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servethelight · 13 days

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Shit I’ve noticed during my clone wars rewatch and my interpretation (very Obi-Wan focused because he’s my favorite character lmao):

(Includes spoilers obviously)

+ I love this show to bits, but it has horrible issues with consistency. Every other episode there is a new weapon or something introduced and we’ll never see it again. This is very prevalent in especially the first seasons.

+ Obi-Wan is such a fucking enabler. Like he tells Anakin his plans are stupid at least twice during the Malevolence episodes, but then joins him on all of those. It’s literally like: “Anakin this plan is reckless and won’t work, anyways what’s my part in your plan?”

+ Rex running into that metal pipe. I forgot about that and laughed for 20 minutes straight.

+ Anakin pulls a “Are ya winning son?” on Obi-Wan about Ahsoka.

+ I once saw a post that it isn’t confirmed that Obi-Wan and Cody are friends, but you have Obi-Wan literally marveling on how competent the commander is and Cody always going the extra mile to save his general’s ass. To me that’s pretty much a friendship.

+ The Jedi are in general very gentle, but quite touchy. They might not go for hugs, but there is always someone touching someone’s shoulder or waist. And they’re just so fucking kind. I don’t think I ever noticed that as a kid, but they’re so respectful about life and culture and always helping someone. I just love them so much.

+ And I love the understanding and kindness the clones have. They’re soldiers and programmed to kill, but they’re also good people in most cases. I just wanna hug most of them.

+ My mother told me I cried as a child during the episodes with the Zillo beast. Well, I didn’t cry again, but I’m still so fucking mad at Palpatine for putting that poor creature in that position. If he just had listened to Mace Windu (more of the characters should actually, just saying) that poor animal wouldn’t have killed people and found its end like that.

+ Mortis is quite hated by the fandom but for me it’s a defining showcase of Obi-Wan’s, Anakin’s and Ahsoka’s relationship. I’ve seen people in the fandom saying that Anakin would’ve turned out differently if Obi-Wan would’ve told him he’s proud and took care of his feelings. This episodes literally show that he does exactly that and Anakin still doesn’t give a shit.

+ Anakin tells the son in his dream, that he’ll never come to the dark side willingly. Only to walk over to the literal manifestation of the dark side like 10 minutes later to save Ashoka. I came to the conclusion that the only way to tempt him was by promising to save his loved ones. I still think it was a really awful and greedy thing to become Vader for that, but I must admit it’s a noble character trait to put others first.

+ Kit Fisto doesn’t have nipples. Therefore I’ve concluded he’s isn’t a mammal and hatched from an egg like Nemo the clownfish. (And no, that isn’t a animation thing, Rex does have nipples when his shirt is off).

+ The discussion with my gf about Kit Fisto nipples and Star Wars biology also touched the topic of “how does Maul use the bathroom”. My conclusion is: he has a stoma, because the lower abdomen, where that would be, is always covered.

+ Hardcase mentions he is hyperactive. I now see him as my favorite ADHD clone, because having ADHD myself I can fucking relate.

+ I forgot Waxer died on Umbara and bawled my eyes out. Waxer is one my favorite clones and when he cried while dying I just couldn’t take it.

+ My friend spent the entire Umbara arc just simping for the clones (mostly Jesse), while I was suffering. So maybe they look hot or something for people attracted to men in this episodes.

+ In the episode after the Umbara the duo usually consisting of Waxer and Boil is sent out, but this time it’s just Boil and I was about to bawl again.

+ For being called “the negotiator” Obi-Wan gets his ass beat quite a lot after his “negotiations” (aggressive flirting).

+ While I’ll never forgive Obi-Wan for doing that Raako Hardeen shit, I nearly pissed myself when the Ziro the Hutt’s ex gf is flirting with not one but two women there. Like I didn’t expect her to be the fucking gay rep in clone wars.

+ I’m seriously never forgiving Obi-Wan for that. I can’t get over Ahsoka’s tear filled eyes while she’s holding his corpse. Also she doesn’t seem angry like Anakin just massively sad and disappointed after it is revealed that he’s still alive. Personally I believe she’s starting to doubt the order here.

+ Point three on hating on my favorite character for that shit, I feel like Anakin becomes quieter and less playful after that disaster.

+ Maul is me. He’s obsessed with Obi-Wan and mentions that he has massive problems what is going on inside his head. As a mentally ill person, that makes me feel really seen lmao.

+ The underwater episodes and the ones with Ventress on that train were just the most beautiful worlds I’ve ever seen. Like the planets in general are so beautifully designed in clone wars, I’m so in love.

+ Motherfucking “I said fuck the council and became a child soldier for a rebellion at 13” Obi-Wan Kenobi seems very reluctant on doing it again. There are two entire arcs of him disagreeing on helping rebels. First I didn’t understand, because like dude you literally did this before, but since he talks about his worries about bringing the separatists in or worsen the situation, I think the poor man is just a little bit traumatized.

+ After the events of Onderon I’m pretty sure Ashoka is already filled with doubts about the order, the republic and the war. I also feel like she’s feeling massively led down by Obi-Wan again, which broke my heart because I love their relationship.

+ I just realized he fails Ahsoka a third time, when she is captured by Hondo and Obi-Wan is supposed to help her. Instead he gets attacked by Grievous and is forced to postpone the helping them until they help themselves. I mean it’s not his fault but in Ahsoka’s place that wouldn’t feel good to me.

+ This particular fight with Grievous ignited my love for Obi-Wan again. Before he attacks Grievous he helps an injured clone and when he goes into the fight, Grievous directly kills a clone. Instead of his usual witty remarks, he just goes: “you’re gonna regret that” and jumps Grievous. He just loves his clones as much as I do.

+ One of the most beautiful shots in the entire series for me is in the episode before the droids find Gregor. This WAC droid looks into the desert and it reflects in his eye. Because of the cracks in the desert ground it looks almost like a retina. Beautiful metaphor of combining something artificial and metallic with an organic and almost human part. This was such a fucking raw shot for me, it took my breath away.

+ Tarkin is an asshole, but he’s climbed the asshole latter so hard after he has been mean to Plo Koon.

+ Shotout to Obi-Wan for convincing the order to let Anakin go after Ahsoka. Additionally the whole time he acts in her support only to be shut down by the council. I didn’t remember him doing that so I was surprised.

+ Fives tells the plot with the inhibitor chips to a cab driver. Do you think the cap driver ever thinks back after the war and is like: “Fuuuuuuck”?

+ I kid you not, the clone bar has gender neutral bathrooms (and no, it’s not bc the clones are all male, in the bar are also women). The bathroom are just decided by humans, hutts and a third species I cannot quite recognize.

+ I forgot Teckla gets shot, NOOOOOOO

+ I always say clone wars anakin is better, but Jesus stop acting like a jealous bitch. Padmè deserves an award for putting up with his bullshit. Obi-Wan too. He even tries to give him reassurance by telling him that feelings are not forbidden and Anakin just bitches at him.

+ Obi-Wan casually passing on babysitting duty for Jar Jar fucking killed me (and yes, taking care of Jar Jar is babysitting duty).

+ Never in a million years I would have thought to see Jar Jar admitting to fucking this queen, but here we have him saying he was making love to her last night. Imma set myself on fire and I believe Windu will join me.

+ You could also call the clone wars the exposition wars. Every episode has their one minute exposition in the beginning, but I feel like a lot of the dialogue is used for exposition.

+ Obi-Wan doesn’t learn shit. That man got drugged by Hondo, but yet still accepts drinks from the Pykes. MY BROTHER IN CHRIST PLEASE DONT

+ I AN GOING TO SCREAM. You have been informed that the Clones have a behavior influencing chip in their brains and then you find out Dooku was behind the creation of the clones and no one connects the fucking dots. I love the Jedi, but goddamn are you all dense.

+ Do you think Hunter thought Rex was screwing his general? Because their conversation sounded kinda suggestive and then they trail off to do something secret.

+ Ahsoka going “my older brother thought me”after kicking a guy where it hurts most. I now imagine Anakin going to Ahsoka as soon she got to be his padawan: “Listen up Snips, if you ever facing a creepy guy, you kick them right there”

+ When the sisters make their escape I don’t get why they don’t let Ahsoka fly. She’s clearly the more capable pilot.

+ Controversial opinion: I have a strong dislike for Bo Katan. She’s a fucking terrorist who doesn’t betray the deathwatch when they murder an entire innocent village, no but when there’s Maul trying to take their authority. Says a lot about her character if you ask me.

+ I mcfucking cried when the clones painted their helmets according to Ahsoka’s face markings and my flatmates gf came in and asked me if everything’s alright. I am fucking embarrassing I have seen this scene three times already but I still bawl like a baby.

+ Also my dear Obi-Wan can you quit being an ass? A “hello Ahsoka, nice to see you” wouldn’t have killed you.

+ Through the whole show most of the characters seemed to appear increasingly tired towards the end. Especially Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, but other characters aswell. The only one who seems to stay energized is Anakin. He becomes more serious but I feel like he’s the only one at the end that is still going into battles with full energy. It almost felt like he’s especially thriving in a war scenario which is incredibly sad.

+ The beauty of that last scene with Vader is truly unparalleled. I don’t ever think a tv show can recreate that.

+ I still love this show to bits and I cried 5 times total during that rewatch, shit this was nice.

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fixfoxnox · 9 months

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About the MW3 teaser....I'm not saying anything. But I'm also not not saying anything...

Definitely not who we think they are, but WHY THE PARALLELS with the OG series?!

😭

SFJNKMFLKUWGFB

Alright I'm so glad you asked me about the trailer because I have been itching to talk about it! First of all, let's get this out of the way: I'M SO FLIPPING EXCITED

GUYS MAK LOOKS SO GOOD AND THE LITTLE BITS OF CINEMATIC GAMEPLAY HAVE GIVEN US SO MUCH INFORMATION JUST BY LITTLE BITS. I MAY HAVE A HEART ATTACK WHEN THE FULL TRAILER DROPS.

Okay, with that out of the way, let's get to theorizing.

So I went through and took screenshots of every separate scene that we got that looked like gameplay. Ny goal in doing this was to find parallels between the scenes we were given and mission in the first three og MW games.

So let's start with the ones that have everyone so nervous for Ghost and the ones that you mentioned above.

Obviously everyone's mind went to Ghost's death and, to be honest, I understand why. This is clearly meant to be a callback to that specific moment, however, I also think its meant to be a distraction. Because while I've been seeing everyone else talk about the throw, I've seen no one mention whats going on in the background. So let's break it down.

Night time, downed plane in the middle of a group of buildings, man in suit being thrown into fire. What are my thoughts on this? Well my initial and most prevalent theory is that this is the plane that we saw in the end credits of MW2, the one with the "No Russian" reference.

It seems to me like the plane in that sequence was already in the air, so it makes sense to me if the goal this time was to hijack the plane rather than shooting people. This seems especially true to me if we are going to see someone more similar to the original no Russian which seems likely due to the little clip we get of Verdansk in the trailer.

Now, like I said my goal was to find parallels between the clips and the original games, so did I find one here? Yes.

This is from MW3, the mission where Makarov kidnaps the president in hopes of getting nuclear launch codes from him. Now, do I think this is what the mission will be about? No, of course not. Instead I think its merely a reference to this mission and maybe gives a hint at some things Makarov is planning. Perhaps we'll see him going after launch codes again, killing the Russian president, trying to pin this on American's etc. Or maybe this is just a section with a downed plane that won't be similar to MW3 at all.

Next I want to take a look at these parts

All underwater sections. Now I've seen some people call to the similarities between these sections and the scuba section in MW3 with delta force, and I do think there are some similarities. Particularly the underwater explosion and the little things that they're riding which I found some parallels to in MW3.

However I'm more inclined to say that these stills are more similar to the brief underwater intro we get in MW2 on "The Only Easy Day" mission with Roach. Why do I think that?

Well, I'll like to point out that the red bit we see in the trailer is almost identical to the red bit we see at the beginning of that mission in MW2. The underwater stab we see is something that we only see done by Roach during that mission when he pulls one of the men underwater and stabs them in a very similar way to what we see. This isn't like an optional take down its one that has to be done to progress the mission. And I will mention while the trailer shows individual little torpedo (?) things they're riding like we see in MW3, the brief section in MW2 does feature those, its just larger with more people on them.

There are no good pictures for Roach's takedown, but if you've played the mission or watched it you should know what I mean. Here is the nearly identical part I mentioned:

Okay so my last few though here are about to get balls to the walls wild with my conspiracy theories okay? Everything above I think has at least somewhat of a chance of being correct, but what I'm about to say is like full tin foil hat okay? So just bare with me.

I think there are COD Ghosts references in this trailer.

HEAR ME OUT OKAY

Now, naturally when I first saw this section I obviously thought what most people are saying. "Oh snow and stuff so like a cliffhanger or contingency reference." And as much as I really really really want to say they are, I just can't.

Cliffhangar and Contingency are both bright missions. Daytime missions that see you stealthing through the snow. There are trucks you have to avoid in cliffhanger, but none you really interact with. Similar in Contingency.

However, I was looking at those screenshots and my brain clicked, because the environment, the vehicle aspect, the ice aspect all clicked for me.

COD Ghost's features two separate snowy missions, both of which take place at night, both of which feature the vehicles, and both of which feature the ice breaking under people/vehicles.

In one chase sequence the entire goal is to shoot the ice out from under the cars that are chasing you, cars that look nearly identical to the one we see in the trailer.

"Okay," I hear you saying, "but thats only one thing. I'm sure other cod games have snowy parts like that." To which I say, you're right. Except, once I saw this parallel, I just couldn't stop.

Remember that scuba section we mentioned? Particularly these two stills?

The environment there looks like nothing we've seen before right? Its different from the scuba mission in MW3 and we definitely don't see anything like that in the brief section of MW2. But you know where we see something like this extensively? A full underwater mission ending with an explosion on a sibmarine/boat?

COD Ghosts. Thats where.

Now I can't add any more pictures, but I would also like to point to the rapelling part of the trailer. I saw that an immediately though of The Only Easy Day/Dark Water. But you know where else there is a mission featuring rapelling up to an oil rig??? COD Ghosts.

I will again say that these parallels are fully balls to the wall and probably not true, however, these were enough of them that I just had to mention it.

My hope, based on what we've heard, is that MW3 will draw more heavily on the OG MW2. That plane crash I mentioned could easily end up being something with Shadow Company and Shepherd as we do see a plane/helicopter crash in that game.

My hopes for Roach are up just a little too high because of the almost identical submarine still, however I'm trying not to get too excited. Let's just pray that August 17th is kind to us and we get some more ideas on what to expect coming up.

#thoughts with luke #you asked luke #gary roach sanderson #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare 3 #cod mw #vladimir makarov

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brainworms-all-night-long · 4 months

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Hey what if I made a completely nonsensical and maybe overly edgy imaginary one-shot that I got the idea for on my way to the fridge for a snack a few hours ago?

[~1000 words]

––

"It's over Nine"

Sonic said exasperated after he bounced back from his last successful hit on the fox.

Said fox gave one hell of a fight in person and the neverending metal army of robo-copies Sonic had to get though first — that now his friends manage to regulate — didn't help either.

Shadow did warn him of Nine's possible goal but he was careful, just this once. He promised so with a cheeky wink and a smile, while any of its potential effect bounced right off Shadow's unimpressed face, after all!

Besides he was the one who caused this mess because what's new at this point, and he planned on fixing it.

He tried talking, oh boy he did, but Nine wasn't budging no matter the angle Sonic approached the conversation with, so he wasn't left with a different choice.

As much as he wasn't a fan, he had to beat the sense into the fox.

He ignored the stinging pain on the back of his hands and heels (which had kind of intensified since he set foot on this platform, probably his body finally registering the damage he suffered with all the punching and kicking robots today) and he stood up tall waiting for Nine to uncurl from his beaten position.

It sent the smallest pang of guilt into Sonic's heart as he realized just how small the fox appeared when like that, with all of his tech mangled and damadged righ beside him, but he shook his head right after, dispersing any thoughts of sympathy for a few seconds more. Yes Nine was his friend but he was also kinda ripping the Shatterverse apart and risking thousands of lives along with Sonic's chance to fix everything, and he wasn't gonna let that fly, the kit needed a vibe check.

Nine barely moved aside from his heavy breathing for a long while until Sonic heard a quiet click and and similar in volume chuckle.

"You're right it is."

Before Sonic could place the meaning of Nine's muffled answer or take a defensive stance, both his hands and feet were on fire and rest of his body grew weaker by the millisecond with no further warning.

"I would be lying if I said you weren't painfully predictable"

Glancing from Nine who was now the one standing over him, to his hands through the sudden blur of agony and effort to keep any stray scream in his mouth, all he saw was a wild flicker of colors.

Ah, so those random sparks and color changes of his inhibitors since he got to the Grim was something to worry about after all.

Between all the action and robot beating he barely paid attention to them. They were functioning flawlessly and the same since he got them, even after the unnecessary scruffle he got into with Shadow over them, so why would they malfunction now of all times–

Oh.

Of course, the inhibitors were Nine's tech, should've guessed they'd be used against him sooner or later. Sonic kinda needed those to get around after all, and what's the best way to catch a supersonic hedgehog? By making him unable to run of course!

Still, while now, in retrospect, he really really should've seen it coming, and oh boy he already heard the earful Shadow was about to give him, his current situation was not good.

It was not good at all as he felt the inhibitors being removed from his gloves and shoes, not ideal when he was grabbed by the arm and forcibly made to stand back up, not great as he didn't know which way was north while his head spun, and even worse once he finally somewhat focused his eyes on Nine's face that was now in front of him — or well, slightly under him, Nine was a bit on the short side when not threateningly standing up on his now decommissioned metal tails — that all the prevalent pain got overshadowed by a small shiver of dread running down his spine.

"That would be everything I needed from you, friend."

Sonic tried to make a rebuttal, a plea, a question, anything at this point, (and he did not like the calm tone of Nine's voice at all) but all of his words were stuck in his throat along the contents of his long empty stomach as he followed Nine's 'I won' gaze falling behind him, onto the vast orange ground bellow him. Far too bellow him.

Now, he wasn't scared of heights by any means, he usually seeked hem out just for the beautiful landscape view when out on his travels actually, but this wasn't it, not it at all. Especially since he felt barely in control of his own breathing.

"Since you're so reliant on your friends let's see who'll actually catch you on your trust fall eh?"

And with that, Sonic's already poor balance was pushed over the edge of the platform and his body was sent barreling down to the copper sand below.

He should curl up and bounce off, yea that would be the most sensible thing to do. There were more than enough jagged edges of the tower to land onto and slow down his fall (honestly surprising he hasn't hit any of them yet), but his body seemingly fell asleep on him and refused to cooperate with any of the urgency for moving and not being splattered on the ground like a blue pancake!

Gradually he felt the rushing wind around him rip away his consciousness as shades of blue and purple only blurred together until it all became pitch black. But before all of his senses gave out, he hit something that changed his falling direction abruptly and was way too soft and gentle to be the Grim's battle-ridden sands.

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ddarker-dreams · 6 months

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Hi Lock~ I wanted to ask you abt how you got into literature, and how you’d maybe recommend someone else to start? I want to expand on my reading (and also you’ve hyped up Dostoevsky sooo much I’m hooked but I KNOW I’m not at that lvl yet haha) but there’s so many different sources and stuff idrk where to start. I have seen your list of recommendations and other people’s lists as well but Im never sure if they’re a good place if someone is just starting into literature; I’ve been really interested in Picture of Dorian Gray, Jane Eyre and Frankenstein right now, do you think they’d be okay? Did you look at books you knew you’d be into? Or did you try out smth new entirely? Also did you look at any sources online that you could recommend? I know I’ve asked a lot so you of course don’t have to answer them, but please let me know what you think!!

I also wanted to ask, as someone who’s read many classics in literature, in your opinion, how would you define literature? And what do you think makes a book a classic?

From a very clueless anon, hope you and bun bun have a great day and stay hydrated!!!!

hello anon!!! there are so many interesting questions here, i'll try answering them to the best of my abilities!!!!

(how i got into literature)

i'd been neglecting published works for most of my life because i just preferred fanfic way more. it wasn't until a bit into 2021 that i saw this Discourse Causing Post that 'you can't grow as an author if you don't read published works,' or something among those lines. i thought this was really interesting because i'd never given it much thought. around that point, even though writing was a hobby, i felt really motivated to improve. i normally spent no more than a day or two on a story before moving onto the next. which is fine, because fanfic writing is a hobby, but i felt i'd be capable of more if i put in the extra time and effort.

so basically i got into it because i wanted to write my silly little yandere fics better jdfklgjsdg

(recommendations for getting into literature)

i focused on the genre i thought i'd be the most interested in: horror. then i branched out from there. i looked up what people considered must-reads for the genre because i figured that'd be a good place to start. if you know what sort of genres you like, doing some research into its most prevalent/foundational works isn't a bad idea. that's the approach i took. authors throughout the centuries influence and inspire one another, i wanted to be able to map those connections out. this also helps give some context to older books with references that'd be loss on a modern audience.

(how i went about looking into books to see if i wanted to read them)

i research everything like my life's on the line, so i do look into books before i read them. i go for a synopsis that doesn't include spoilers and consider if that's a story i'd get invested in. if not, i'll read some reviews for fresh perspectives. if i'm still kinda meh by then, the book gets passed on.

(defining literature/classics)

UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH literary theory is not my field of expertise ... i'd personally define literature as any written work such as fiction and nonfiction. it can encompass so many things that defining it feels tricky. as for how i'd define a classic, all art is subjective or whatever, but there are stories that just have the It factor. whether that is their cultural impact, or works that are pillars to the genre(s) they were written in. you can see the ripples that it made after its publication.

finally, as for the books you listed (jane eyre, the picture of dorian gray, and frankenstein), i'd highly recommend them!!! all of them are apart of the gothic genre, which is one of my favorites. they've all stood the test of time for good reason.

#lock lore #answered #Anonymous

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wings-of-fire-confessions · 3 months

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I'm not sure if this problem is still prevalent but is anyone else weirded out by ppl calling darkstalker sexy? Back in my WoF fandom wiki days i saw those type of comments all over his page as well as forum threads. I mean??? is calling a QUADRUPED dragon from a CHILDRENS/PRETEENS book series sexy not iffy to any of you?? idk i've just not seen anyone talking about this. Yes, i know most of those are children making "jokes" but I've seen ppl insinuate what they want him to do to them and frankly I don't think those are jokes....

Talking about calling dragons sexy I might as well go on about the zoophillia issue in the fandom. So much art reposted in yt videos and near the top of google searches are by out and open zoophiles (*cough cough darkenstardragon and rhynobullraq). Worst part is no one really talks about it, I've seen a beware on darken once a long time ago and that's it. Not only that, instragram is a minefield of nsfw WoF art, like once every few months a new account with like 20 followers posts nsfw WoF art. And before anyone in the notes says its because I'm looking for it, about 2 years back as I was scrolling through #/wingsoffire sorted by new I got flashbanged by nsfw WoF art, zero intention to see that whatsoever. Oh and also theres a couple of small-ish (?) (well they have a decent following for WoF fandom standards) accounts thats post their disgusting zoophillic art on twitter on the down-low, if you know you know :)

When it comes to the wiki, the majority of the people on it are around 13-17, the age range his age is written for, so I can see why some people on there would say things like that.

But that isn't an excuse for other people, like darkendragonstar and most of the fandom. It isn't an excuse to spread really lewd stuff either, even for people around his age range of course.

I had no idea rhyno was like... that. I always knew they had a muscle fetish though when I was younger, as it is pretty obvious looking at their art.

#wings of fire confessions #wof confessions #wof #wings of fire #zoos

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lonelycowgirls · 9 months

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Scared

Hey guys! Here we are again ✨

So, this is a long, angsty piece of work that I've been drafting for quite a while. I'm not sure where my inspiration came from, but I do like to write and explore deeper aspects of relationships and life. I really hope this doesn't rub anyone up the wrong way. These things happen every day and I for one feel very lucky to live in a country that operates on a pro-choice basis, for the most part. Whatever keeps a person alive and healthy is what I think is the priority. I won't get into the politics of it all, I'm purely reflecting life and its complex feelings and emotions through art.

Nevertheless, this is a part of Stella and Harry's story - it's entirely fictional and has nothing to do with the real people. I hope you all take it that way.

I also hope you enjoy reading it.

Nel x

WARNINGS | Unwanted Pregnancy | Adult Language | Minors DNI | Lots of Angst

Word count: 6.6k

2014

“Ah sweet, Emma put out the chocolate-covered raisins I asked her for,” Harry waltzed in from his rehearsal into the canteen area set up for the band and crew. He was beaming at the buffet table spread out before them, a child-like energy still so prevalent even at the age of 20. Stella had been staring into the bowl of potato salad for God knows how long by that point. “Y’alright, babe?” He nudged her side while popping a handful of the dried fruit sweets into his mouth.

“Yeah…” Stella glanced up at him before turning away and walking over to grab a banana from the fruit bowl. She tugged at the tip of the banana, but it wouldn’t budge. Tugging harder and scoffing with frustration before slamming the banana back onto the buffet table.

She screwed her eyes shut and ran a hand over her forehead, sighing heavily. When she opened them again she saw a peeled yellow fruit under her nose. She looked up at Harry and took the banana, she swallowed through her dry throat over the nausea crawling up from her nervy tummy. He winked and popped another raisin in his mouth over a smirk.

“I’m pregnant, Harry.”

He was almost sure his heart stopped for a few moments. The smirk fell the quickest it had ever fallen - she’d likely remember his facial response forever.

“What?” He whispered. His eyes were wide in shock, his blood ran cold with a shiver up his spine. She nodded, the tears welling in her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time since she’d found out. She couldn’t believe she’d become that girl. That girl in his life. The girl to ruin his life. “You,” He shakily attempted to draw in breaths to steady his racing heart. “No, no, y-you can’t be pregnant, you’re-”

“I’m on the pill.” She spoke over him, stepping back and running a sweaty palm through her hair. “I know, trust me I know, I’ve been questioning everything for days. Apparently it’s not 100 per cent effective.”

“We- you can’t be pregnant… I’m about to go on the biggest tour of my life.” He stepped back, stumbling on his feet slightly. He brought a hand up to his forehead and she watched his fingers shake.

“I know that-” she murmured quietly, but he cut her off again. He was panicking, now.

“We can’t have a baby- fuck.” He cursed, running both hands through his fast-growing curls and tugging at the back of his head. “We’re always so careful, right?” His voice was muffled through the sleeves of his top as his face was buried in his arms.

“I mean, yeah… I guess we needed to be more careful.” She sniffled, still not looking at him. She’d expected him to feel and react this way, but it still made the whole situation that much more emotional and scary. He snapped to look at her when he heard her small sob of sorrow.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, Stell. You should’ve told me as soon as you found out.” He leaned back against the buffet table, reeving up the cream tablecloth. Emma always complained about the stains that the boys would leave on it but still refused to get any other colour.

“I knew you’d react like this, H… I was scared.” She was folded in on herself now, protecting herself from the rejection she swore was coming.

“I know… I’m sorry, I’m just shocked. I never wanted to do this to you.” Stella looked at him with that. Their eyes locked, his shiny green with her deep brown.

“You haven’t done anything bad, Harry. In theory. There are things we can do… things we have to do.” They stayed silent for a moment as Harry racked his brain through the options he knew about from sex education lessons at school.

“Won’t that hurt though?” His eyebrows were tied in the middle, concern flooding his pale face. His shoulders were sunk, he looked like a helpless little boy. Nowhere near ready to be a father. She took a careful step towards him, unable to stop herself - he needed comforting.

“I’m sure it won’t hurt nearly as much as giving birth, H.” She laughed slightly, pushing a curl over his ear.

“I’m so sorry, Stell.” A large hand came to rest on her hip, a thumb stroking back and forth.

“You don’t have to be sorry. It takes two to tango… and I was a very willing dance partner.” She winked, trying to lighten the mood. She brought her fingers to his chest, two of them tracing the cross that rested on it.

“Are you sure you’re okay with… with what you have to go through.” He spoke barely above a whisper, looking down to try and find the appropriate words but coming up empty.

“I’m a big girl, Harry.” She was telling herself as much as him.

“Yeah, I know…” He smiled slightly, somewhat proud of how mature she was and just as thankful for it, too. “Just know, one day… the time will be right. We’ll have beautiful babies, as many as you wanna push out.”

“Yeah?” She cocked her head as he smirked and another hand moved to curve around her hip. “We’ll see about that, Mr Cheaper by the Dozen.” She chuckled as he finally scooped her up into his arms, the feeling giving her an immense amount of comfort. He breathed her in, his face nuzzled in her neck as she ran her hands up and down his back. “I love you so much, I think we’re gonna be okay.” She whispered into his shoulder. Pulling away slightly to look down in her eyes, Harry kept his arms around her and smiled softly.

“I can’t believe there’s a baby in there…” He smirked, eyes getting a bit glossy. Goosebumps instantly sparked all over her body, she flinched in his arms almost as if his words had physically struck her. Regardless of how softly and sincerely he’d said them. She moved to gently push him off but he held tighter.

“No, H… it’s not a baby. Not yet.” She shook her head, blinking the tears away. She was exhausted, having been up for nearly 24 hours by that point, worrying about this exact situation. She pushed harder and stepped out of his arms, but he let his palm graze her belly as she moved away. She began slowly pacing, hands raising to rub at her eyes.

“What do you mean?” He asked, confused by her sudden return to her stressful demeanour. He frowned, still leaning back against the buffet table.

“You can’t make this what it isn’t. You’ll… you’re making it harder.” Her breath was speeding up, a shaking hand being brought up to her chest as she fought the panic and nausea. He kept his hands by his sides now, fidgeting and anxiously picking at the skin around his thumbs with his forefingers.

“I don’t understand, babe.” He stated firmly, not knowing whether she needed his comfort or her space, but desperate to figure it out. Her pacing stalled in the middle of the room. A clear divide was now put between them.

“Harry, I have to go to the doctor’s and take a pill to get rid of this… whatever you can call this thing inside me. I can’t do that with the thought that it’s anything more than a speck in my womb. Alright? So, just don’t make this what it isn’t because I… I can’t.” She brought her hands to her face again, her breath catching in her throat as the anxiety continued to heighten and spill over. Harry stayed frozen, not knowing what to do, or how to help her. This was something he’d never been prepared for, he’d never learned about abortions in school or even discussed them with his mum or sister. His dad adopted the phrase, ‘Don’t be a fool, wrap your tool’ pretty much as soon as Harry turned 16. As far as he was concerned, Stella was still carrying his baby, no matter at what stage, which was making him feel unexpected things. He knew that right now wasn’t the time and it would be irresponsible of them, but he thought that if he romanticised it a little bit, she’d still feel loved and accepted by him. Boy, was he wrong.

“We need to tell someone-” Harry offered, his eyes following her pacing feet. She came to a halt again at his words.

“No. No, we can’t tell anyone.” She motioned with her hands, emphasising how serious she was.

“Have you even told your mum?” Harry reasoned, brow furrowed. Stella told her mum everything. He was sure her mother knew more about their relationship than he probably did.

“No, she’d kill me if she found out.”

“Well, maybe you can tell Dolly?” Harry grasped at straws, he thought she might need another woman’s opinion. He’d definitely be telling Gemma at some point, he knew she’d have comforting words. Most probably after thumping him on the back of the head for being so stupid as to get his 19-year-old girlfriend up the duff in the first place.

“I don’t know, Harry. I think it’s best nobody knows, I don’t want this following me.” The pacing returned.

“Well, I’ve gotta tell my mum,” Harry said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why?!” The pacing stopped again, she looked at him like he’d suddenly grown a second head on his shoulder.

“Because she’s my mum, Stell. She knows more than me about this stuff. She’ll know what to say.” Stella didn’t doubt that, but she couldn’t bare Anne knowing that they’d been irresponsible enough to have to get an abortion. If she was scared of what her mum would think, she couldn’t summon the thought of Anne knowing.

“And you don’t think she’s gonna be disappointed?” Harry was quiet at that, folding his arms and dropping his gaze to the floor again. “You don’t think she’ll judge us? Judge me?” Stella stepped forward on each question, a fire behind her eyes now. She almost looked wild, her eyes bloodshot from the lack of sleep and her body almost vibrating with emotion.

“You know she’s not like that. She’ll understand. Yeah, she might be a bit shocked and sad that you’re getting rid of it but-”

“Oh, I’m getting rid of it? It’s just me, yeah? It’s all me, I’m dealing with your baby but it’s none of your business.” Stella was beyond help now, spitting venom in the quiet room. He’d not seen her act this way before.

“No… no, you know that’s not what I mean,” Harry said quietly, sounding fed up now as he dragged a hand across his face in exasperation. She stared at him with wide eyes, daring him to look at her. “I don’t know how to talk to you right now.” He grumbled, holding his hands up in surrender, before swiftly moving towards the door.

“Oh, fuckin’ hell, fine, do that! Lucky you can just walk away from this while I’m left to sort it out!” Her screeching words were punctuated by him slamming the door. “Prick.”

“Hiya, baby girl! How are you guys? How’s the tour rehearsals? Tell me everything!” Dolly’s beaming face on the other end of the FaceTime was almost making Stella feel better. Almost.

“It’s… it’s good, yeah. Can get a bit boring sometimes, but it’s nice to be able to go to bed with Harry every night.” She tried to sound happy and upbeat, hoping that her big sister wouldn’t see through her.

“Oh, girl I bet it is.” Dolly’s perfectly plucked eyebrows danced with a suggestive smirk, making Stella scoff.

“Not just for that reason, Doll. We go to the hotel pools or gyms together, then we go to dinner or we get a takeaway, the takeaways are a bit shit here though, I said to H I’d kill for a-”

“Okay, what’s going on, Stell?” Dolly asked suddenly. “You’re all flappy and flustered. Your eyes are bloodshot to fuck. Tell me what’s going on.” Stella sighed, dropping her head down onto her arm, willing the tears to stay in her damn eyeballs. She was sick of crying at that point. Deep down she knew that her sister would pick up on the signs straight away, she’d subconsciously called her for this exact reason. She just thought she’d have a little more time to get her courage up.

“You’re gonna be so upset with me.” Stella sobbed, fully crying now that she actually had to say the words. Dolly’s face was full of worry, whatever this news was, she was scared to know now.

“I won’t be upset, Stell. We can get through anything, but you’ve got to tell me.” Stella tried to take deep breaths, just so she could allow the words to leave her lips. “Stella, please, just tell me.”

“I’m… fucking pregnant, Dolly.” Dolly’s face fell into shock, her hand flying up to her mouth.

“Oh my God,” her eyes instantly filled with tears. “Stell…” She awkwardly laughed in disbelief, unexpected emotions bubbling up.

“I know.” Stella shook her head, eyes shut, tears still flowing.

“Fuck, okay. It’s fine. It’s gonna be fine.” Dolly dabbed her eyes with her fingers, trying not to smudge her winged eyeliner. “You obviously can’t tell Mum.”

“This is what I said to Harry! It would go down like a fart in a lift.” Dolly laughed and Stella joined in, it felt like the first time she’d laughed for a week straight. It felt good to make light, somewhat, of a very stressful situation. “I’ve got an appointment to get an abortion on Friday morning.”

“Ah Stell, you’re gonna… deal with it?” It was telling how nobody seemed to be able to say the actual word - it was one of the reasons Stella knew she’d be judged.

“I can’t have a baby right now, Dolly. Harry’s 20 years old. He’s having the time of his bloody life.” Stella blew out a soggy breath through her pouting lips, sniffing over the tail end of her tears.

“What about you?” Dolly asked, the conversation pausing for a moment. “I’m hearing a lot about Harry and not a lot about Stella.” Dolly rest her head on a fist as she looked in the camera lens.

“I… I can’t have a baby.” Stella’s hand absentmindedly landed on her lower belly, running her palm along the material of her t-shirt. “I’m not ready… there’re things I want to do. Things I want to accomplish. I especially can’t have Harry Styles’s baby. Can you imagine? I don’t want to be just his baby mama.” Stella anxiously cringed inwardly at the potential headlines. “The girl chasing for child support… the girl waiting at home looking after the kids while he’s off seeing the world… the girl left behind…” she whispered, trailing off with her eyes focused on the lamp on the bedside table.

“I get that. You’re gonna be more than that, of course, you are.” Dolly smiled over fresh tears welling up for her baby sister. When Harry first became famous, everyone was so excited, Dolly remembered it like it was yesterday. She’d watched Stella enjoy it, for a while. Recently she’d watched her struggle with it, watched her fade into the background. She’d never been truly accepted into his new lifestyle. By the people who were begging to be around him, or by his fans - everyone knew why, including Stella. But Dolly also knew she was in love with Harry, had been for years, and she wanted her sister to be happy. So she vowed she’d always be there to pick up the pieces when it all started to fall apart. “I wish I could come and be with you but I’m knee-deep at fashion week.”

“No, I know, of course, I understand. I’ll be fine.” Stella spoke sadly, as much as she secretly hoped someone in her family would be able to come and support her, she’d never want any of them to drop everything, for this of all things.

“Is Harry going with you?” Dolly questioned, casually.

“He can’t, he’s got rehearsals,” Stella mumbled, picking at a nail.

“Oh, for God’s sake, surely they’d understand-”

“Well no, because we can’t tell anyone.”

“Can’t you just say you’ve got an important doctor's appointment?”

“Isn’t it a bit obvious if we say we both need to go?”

“Well, maybe… but it’s not fair for you to have to deal with it all on your own. It’s scary.” Stella’s belly flipped again at the thought of the abortion, but she knew she could do it. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but she would be fine. She had to be.

“It is a little. But it’s supposed to be not too bad, I Googled it and apparently, the worst of the pain is over in a few hours, so I’ll be back at the hotel and in bed for the bad bits.”

“Okay,” Dolly didn’t sound as convinced. “What’s he thinking anyway, is he freaking out?”

“He’s… I haven’t seen him since he walked out on me yesterday.”

“What?!” Dolly sat up straight in her chair at this revelation. Her eyes bulged behind her glasses. “He walked out on you? Surely fucking not.”

“We had an argument and he walked out. Slammed the door and everything. I do kind of get it to be fair, I’ve basically given him the worst news imaginable.” Stella looked up at the lamp on the bedside table again. “I almost didn’t tell him because I thought he’d dump me.”

“Aw Stell, I don’t think he’s like that is he? He’d be an idiot to throw away three years together and he’d be a dick for doing it over a pregnancy scare, especially.” Dolly’s face was as serious as her tone. “I know I’d never forgive him.”

“Well, it’s not looking good now anyway. He’s off sulking somewhere.” Stella rolled her eyes. “I’ve gotta go, I’m knackered and just wanna sleep. I’ll text you.”

“Okay, sis. Look after yourself. Speak soon, keep me in the loop. I love you!”

“Love you, too,” Stella replied, sighing as she flopped back against the plush hotel pillows and dropped her phone onto the bedside table. She was too angry to text Harry first or to ask anyone where he was either. None of the boys knew what was going on so they hadn’t bothered her, which she took as a win. She glanced around the room, Harry’s suitcase lay open in front of the dressing table, the contents spilling out in a mess onto the floor, as usual. Was he still wearing the same pants from yesterday? How had he brushed his teeth? She wondered to herself but then reasoned that he could literally just ask Carrie, the tour manager, to get him anything he needed. He didn’t need her. He didn’t need anyone, really.

A heavy knock on the door shook Stella out of her thoughts with a firm jolt to her body. She sighed, tossing the duvet from her body and dragging her feet towards the direction of the sound. Forgoing the peephole, she cracked the door open, peering through. There Harry stood, in the same clothes he’d been in since the day before. In his arms was a huge brown paper bag, emblazoned with the familiar golden yellow arches they’d become way too accustomed to since landing in the US. Glancing down further, her eyes caught on the fluffy pink slippers that adorned his feet. She smirked at them before quickly covering by folding her lips into her mouth and narrowing her eyes at his face.

“You think a Maccy’s is gonna fix this?”

“We’re not broken, baby.” He said with his own smirk and a shake of his head. His eyes widened, “Sorry, poor choice of words.”

Stella rolled her eyes and opened the door fully, stepping to the side so he could waltz into their hotel room. Just watching him cross the threshold had her body sagging with contentedness. She’d been tensely on edge for far longer than what would be considered a healthy amount for a 19-year-old. But for a 19-year-old pregnant girlfriend of a boyband member? That scale may be marked differently.

“Where’d you get the slippers?” She said to the back of his head.

“Got fed up of my boots, so Lou let me borrow these of hers,” Harry mumbled, dropping the paper bag onto the dressing table before collapsing back on the bed with a huff and a deep sigh. She looked at him, sprawled out on the white duvet, his lanky legs hanging off the edge, arms splayed out either side of him, eyes shut, lips parted. Stella thought back to her conversation with Dolly and felt anger flow through her veins again. Moving to the sofa against the wall of their suite, she picked up a throw pillow before launching it at Harry’s head. He huffed in surprise, not able to get a word in before she did.

“You don’t get to come back in here like nothing’s changed, Harry.” She said, getting upset all over again. Harry clutched the pillow to his stomach, coming up to a sitting position. “You left me yesterday not knowing if you’d ever come back.”

“Obviously I was gonna come back, I just needed space, Stell.”

“Yeah? Well, I needed you.” Harry was silent, his mouth hung open, catching flies. “Why do I have to be the strong one? When you didn’t come to bed, I didn’t know whether it was over or not yesterday… thought I might even have Carrie coming up here telling me to pack my stuff because we were done.”

“Stella, I’d never do that to you. I… I can’t believe you’d even think I would end things like that.” He frowned hard, hand coming up to his chest. “Do you really think that’s who I am?”

“I don’t know, Harry. This is the point!” She threw her arms in the air. “You left me in the unknown.” They came back down to slap her hotel robe-covered sides. “That’s what fucking hurts.” She pointed to her heart as her voice faltered.

“Stella, you were laying into me, I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t know what else to say!” Harry’s chest was heaving slightly, panic and anger mixing and rising. “Everything I say to you lately is wrong.”

“Don’t make me out to be some sort of psycho, Harry. I’m going through a lot right now.”

“Ugh, God there you go again!” He tossed the cushion back onto the sofa it came from, getting up to move away from her, arms flying in exasperation. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself before turning back with his hands on his hips. “I’m not trying to make you out as anything, I’m literally just trying to talk to you… I don’t know what to do to help you.”

“No, you don’t.” Stella laughed humourlessly, she looked down at her fidgeting feet. Her arms came to surround her tired torso. “I’ve had enough… let’s just get ready for bed.” Harry ran a hand over his face and moved towards his open suitcase, starting to unbutton his jeans. Stella wandered over to the ensuite to brush her teeth, speaking before she closed the door, “I think you should get the sofa bed out.”

Stella had been tossing and turning for over an hour, occasionally shifting up to glance at Harry on the sofa bed. He was on his side, a long leg thrown over the top of the spare blanket they’d found in the wardrobe. He always slept like a brick, no matter where he was forced to lay his head.

Dropping her head back onto the pillow, she wondered if they’d make it through this one. She didn’t want to lose what they had but she was too proud to accept the way he’d behaved about this whole situation. They were only young but their lives together would bring so much more turbulence and she didn’t want to have to be the one to guide him through it all the time, while he pranced about with everyone thinking he was perfection personified.

She knew what people said about him, how they talked about him, the words they used. They idolised him. They couldn’t understand why he’d chosen her. Of all the options he had. She’d mostly gotten over the insecurity of their younger years together, but every so often, it would start to swim around her head again and make her doubt herself again. And doubt them as a partnership.

She wanted to respond to people who pointed out her seemingly endless list of flaws and say, ‘Hey, he’s got plenty, too.’ Not that they’d believe her. He was still a man at the end of the day. And men did stupid shit. Like, walk out on their pregnant girlfriends for a day and a half, while they’re away from home and she’s about to get an abortion.

“Hey,” Stella jolted awake, she must have dozed off in her thoughts. Harry’s voice was soft and gentle, his light strokes on her back were even more so. She made no move to turn over, just nudged her head slightly to signal she was listening. “I can’t completely get out of rehearsals… but I’ll make sure I’m here when you get back. Okay? I’ll make sure of it, I’ll make some sort of excuse and I’ll be here.”

Harry watched her breathing, biting his bottom lip when she still didn’t move. “This is all my fault…” His voice wobbled over the words, making Stella’s heart sink. She finally rolled over to see him leaning over the bed on his arms, fists digging into the mattress. Leaning up on her elbow, she brought a hand to his cheek, she stroked with her thumb and shook her head.

“It’s not all your fault, Harry. It’s not.” Her hand slid down to his neck and to his bare shoulder, giving him a subtle pull to signal his welcome into the bed beside her. He quickly obliged before she could change her mind, pulling the duvet up to his chin, almost swallowing her head up completely in the heavy covering. “We’ve both just… made mistakes. It’ll all be over soon.” Her voice held a melancholy that encapsulated their complicated scenario completely. The sadness of the loss, the anguish of the toll it was taking on their relationship, the relief that there was a safe solution available to them.

“I should be comforting you, I don’t know why I couldn’t do that. I think, I just…” Harry’s eyes were cast down in thought. He really didn’t know why he reacted the way he did. He surely wasn’t proud of it, but he had to do it. Something inside him told him to run away for a bit until he could think straight.

“We’re scared, H. We’re just kids still, this is heavy… we’re working it all out.” She fiddled with the lining of the pillowcase that was under his head.

“I don’t wanna lose you.” His voice was so quiet, dripping with sincerity. His hand itched to touch her, to grab her and pull her close, just to emphasise how much he meant it. But he didn’t want to overstep his welcome. “I hate when you’re angry with me.”

“Stop making me angry then.” Stella teased, her eyes flicking up for a second with a smirk before looking at her fiddling fingers again. Harry chuckled lightly.

“I’ll try.” Stella bit her lip, looking at his dark silhouette again, with hooded eyes begging her for sleep. She leaned forward to press a tiny peck to his lips, his arm secured her to him to place a successful three more to hers. She then turned in his hold for a few minutes, him hugging her so tight, their bodies slotting together naturally. She rested there for a few minutes, before nudging herself free to shift across the bed and snuggle down into her own side. Harry’s heart ached as he stared at the back of her head, so close but still so far. But he knew he needed to put his own feelings second, at least for now. He needed to take her lead on this one and respect her boundaries. Besides, she’d never steered him wrong thus far.

Stepping out of the back emergency exit of the family planning clinic, Paul, one of the band’s bodyguards and one of Harry’s closest friends and confidants, guided her to the haven of the tinted windowed vehicle waiting for her in the car park. The whole thing had felt like a Mission Impossible movie, except Stella was more of an Austin Powers than an Ethan Hunt. She had her most oversized cardigan on, along with Harry’s biggest, darkest sunglasses and one of Niall’s caps, hood up. She’d signed into the clinic with a pre-arranged dummy name that was called out into the waiting room. Luckily, there were only three other people waiting to be seen and they all looked too caught up in their own lives to care about her presence. Which made a really nice change. She’d almost forgotten the concept of people not giving a shit about her or what she was wearing or how she acted.

She was sure she wouldn’t be able to describe the way her body felt if she tried. The phrase ‘emotionally drained’ could never be more appropriately used. Harry had kept her up half the night with his tossing and turning and the other half she’d kept herself up with her own tossing and turning. Which was out of character for him, but he was so worried that she would be papped - or worse still, spotted by fans - that he was moving like a man possessed.

Halfway through the struggle of the night, she’d decided it best to try and calm him by drawing patterns on his bare back. Running her nails up and down, side to side and in circular shapes, softly letting her fingertips glide on their journey. She did it often because she knew he loved it, that night she felt he needed it. It calmed her too, feeling his warm, smooth skin on hers. Once she began hearing his quick breaths slow to a relaxed pace and then finally to a soft snore, she stopped and turned over as slow as she could so as not to disturb him again, falling asleep at last, but for an hour at most. When she woke up with a jolt, his side was empty, sheets crumpled and unmade as usual.

As Paul began to drive she took a deep breath, took her cap and glasses off and willed herself to feel something. To feel something for what she’d just done, but she didn’t. She’d done her best to block out the intrusive thoughts of believing that she was a murderer, purely to stay sane through all of this. But now she felt like a cold heartless monster, almost like she’d gone the completely opposite way. No one would ever know what she’d done, but she always would. Dolly always would. Harry always would. Now, Paul always would. She trusted Harry as much as he trusted her; as much as to not force her into signing an NDA. So she knew he’d never tell a soul, should things not work out between them in the end. But they were forever changed from this moment, well, from the moment she’d watched the little red lines show up on that plastic stick.

Don’t feel guilty, don’t feel guilty, don’t feel guilty, don’t-

“Ya alright there, sugar?” She jumped slightly at Paul’s deep Irish voice piping up from the front. She met his eyes in the rearview mirror and noted the kindness in the blue, he wasn’t judging her, she could sense that. All he wanted was for her to be okay. She nodded wordlessly, pulling her cardigan sleeves over her fingers and leaning to look out of the window again.

Paul scanned her card for her and allowed her to step through the hotel room door, which she allowed after multiple attempts at telling him that she could do it herself fell on deaf ears. He carried her handbag, too.

Harry jumped up from where he’d been led back on the bed, an arm propping his head up and his phone in hand, mindlessly scrolling as he tried not to lose his mind overthinking that his girlfriend might die from a noninvasive, tried and tested medical procedure. He’d been on the phone to Gemma since he’d gotten back to the room after telling the boys and the crew that he had a migraine. He couldn’t stop himself, he wanted to know what he needed to do to help Stella when she returned from her treatment. He felt a bit guilty about going against her wishes of not telling anyone, but he was unaware that Stella had already told Dolly.

He stopped a few feet in front of her, fidgeting from one foot to the other, fiddling with the side hems on his jeans. She looked so small and defeated. She smiled at him softly, trying to show gratitude that he was there, just like he’d promised he would be. Paul nodded once at Harry before handing Stella her bag and squeezing her shoulder, throwing a final salute before letting the door shut with a soft click.

“Well, it’s done,” Stella said, dropping her bag onto the sofa and perching herself on the end of the bed to slide her trainers off. Harry stayed put, watching her.

“How do you feel? Does it hurt yet?” He kept his voice gentle like he was approaching a wounded deer.

“No, I feel fine at the moment, only happened about an hour ago though and the doc said I should expect some pain around the two to four-hour mark.” Once both shoes were off, she stayed still, only fiddling with the threads pulling from her cardigan.

“Okay.” They sat in silence for a minute or two, before Harry finally worked himself up to move to a crouch in front of where she sat. He cupped her slightly chubby cheek, her eyes stayed downcast, lashes fluttering. His thumb stroked under her puffy eye and she brought her hand up to wrap her fingers around his wrist. “I’m really proud of you, Stell. You’re so brave, much braver than me.” She still didn’t look at him, her bottom lip tucking inwards as she shook her head slightly.

“I feel nothing, Harry.” She voiced, barely above a crackled whisper. “Why don’t I feel anything?” He frowned, shaking his head.

“I don’t know, babe. You said the doctors mentioned it would take a few hours to-”

“No, I mean I don’t feel anything.” Her words were juxtaposed with the lone tear that began to trail down her face.

“Oh. That’s alright, you’re not a bad person if that’s what you’re thinking… you did what was right for you… and for us.” He tried not to make it about him again, he knew she definitely didn’t need that. “Like you said, it wasn’t really a baby, it was just a pocket of cells in your uterus.”

Stella huffed out a laugh, “You been Googling?”

“Nah, Gem told me.” Harry laughed softly, eyes flashing with realisation when Stella flinched, eyes finally meeting his. “Shit.” Stella couldn’t even find the energy to argue, she just rolled her eyes and moved her head to the side to press a kiss to his palm and his wrist that she still had hold of on her face.

“Don’t worry about it, H. I suppose it was harsh of me to say you couldn’t tell your family.” She knew she hadn’t handled this very well. Inside, she was grateful that he’d talked it out with someone. “What else did she say?” He stood up straight, both his knees clicking on the way. She puffed out another laugh as he stretched out exaggeratedly like an old man.

“She said,” He held out his hand to help her up. “That I should take care of you. That I should rub your belly, if you’d like that?” Stella nodded. He led her up the bed by the hand, flipping the duvet over. He slid her cardigan off her shoulders, before flicking his head up and running his hands up her arms as she lifted them over her head. He then pulled her t-shirt off, leaving her in just her soft lounging bra. “She said that I should get you your favourite food, which is gonna be hard to do since you like Cadburys chocolate and roast dinners and we’re in America.” He flicked her nose with his finger and she swatted at him. Stella giggled along anyway, brushing a hand through his curls as he bent to pull her leggings down her legs. Once both of her feet were free, he pressed kisses back over her tummy, the tops of her breasts and her neck, as he made his way back up to stand. He bent to wrap his arms around her waist and bury his face in her neck, hugging her close. She, in turn, wound her arms around his neck, scratching his nape and inhaling his scent. He pulled back and turned her so she could climb into the bed.

Once the covers were over her, he jogged in small steps back round the bed, getting his t-shirt and jeans off in quick succession, something she knew him to do regularly, but in different circumstances. He slid into the bed and faced her, breathing a sigh of relief when she shuffled closer to him and tangled her legs with his. “Then she said,” he murmured, low and slow, tucking hair behind Stella’s ear. “To tell you how much I love you and that I support you.” He brought her closer still, trailing his fingers up and down the curve of her waist. “I’m sorry I was a dick.” He whispered.

“She told you to say that, too?”

“Nah, that one was all me.”

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know when I’ll be… okay, again.” She looked down again, not meeting his eyes. His brows pulled in.

“That’s alright, Stell.”

“I mean… in a lot of ways.” She whispered, wanting him to get the message without her having to say it out loud. “Specifically… in that way.” She looked in his eyes briefly to solidify her point.

“Stella, you’ve just had an abortion, I’m not a horny monster.” To be truthful, both of them were feeling a little bit of PTSD from the experience, they needed to live a bit more of a wholesome lifestyle for a while. “Don’t worry about all that. We’ll just worry about what’s up here for a while,” He tapped her temple with his finger. “Instead of what’s down there.” She smiled, so relieved that he was being so understanding and mature. “Plus, distance makes the heart grow fonder. Once you’re ready to go, it’s gonna go OFF.” She knew it was too good to be true. He was still a 20-year-old man, she supposed. It still didn’t fail to make her a little excited, deep inside.

“You’re so good.” She said, playing with the ends of his hair that just kept getting longer.

“You are.” He responded, rubbing his nose with hers.

“Yeah… we’re good.”

If you'd like to read other pieces from this universe click here.

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic rec #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles x oc #harry styles concept #starry <3 #btaa

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sinnohanvulpix · 1 year

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Goh is neurodivergent and you can’t change my mind

Since today is Autism Acceptance Day, this is the perfect time to look back on Goh’s iconic moments throughout Journeys and how they support my headcanon that he is autistic. This is also @pikatrainer99‘s headcanon, and we collaborated to make this post. And yes, we are both autistic, and we are allowed to encourage acceptance through this headcanon. If you’re not autistic and you disagree with any of this, then kindly leave.

With that out of the way though, let’s start with episode 1. And, oh boy, is there a lot to unpack! Just in this episode alone, we can see that Goh has a clear special interest in Pokemon, which brings him so much joy to talk about (which I can totally relate to). We also see that he lacked some social skills, didn’t understand social cues, and infodumped about all the different Pokemon they encountered as he didn’t understand that his role was to be the listener, not the teacher. But the biggest thing that stood out to me was when he said that he didn’t need friends, and it’s later revealed that he had been avoiding going to school. This seems to imply that something happened at school that made him stop going, which is unfortunately not uncommon for autistic people to go through (I would’ve gone through that if homeschooling wasn’t an option for me). So instead, he spent all his time on the computer doing Pokemon research.

Fast forward 4 years later to episode 2, and we see that Goh still finds just as much enjoyment in Pokemon research, with still no interest yet in making new friends. That is until he meets Ash, who was one of the first people he met who loves Pokemon just as much as he does. Because Goh still didn’t understand how friendship worked, he announced to him “I accept you as my friend!” As adorable as this is, it’s not the typical reaction to meeting someone, and I’m glad that it was Ash he said this too and not anyone else.

But episode 3 is when I really started seeing myself in Goh, as it was the first to show his insecure side, which likely developed from multiple instances of being misunderstood. After having one small argument with Ash, Goh became convinced that their friendship was completely over, that he messed it up. He even starts tearing up while muttering to himself, “so you’re one of those people too...”, which shows just how much having Ash as a friend means to him. Fortunately though, since Ash is so forgiving, he quickly forgot all about the argument and helped reassure Goh that they’re still friends, much to his relief.

After episode 3, the evidence became a little more spread out, but we can clearly see in multiple future episodes that Goh’s friendship with Ash hasn’t “changed” his autistic-coded traits. We still see many of these traits throughout the series, especially his fear of being rejected (which I headcanon as RSD, aka Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, which is commonly linked with autism and ADHD). This was most prevalently seen throughout episode 22, when Goh became convinced that Raboot didn’t want him as its trainer anymore and would live a happier life without him, which fortunately turned out to be untrue as Raboot came back for him. This was seen again in episode 101, when Goh saw Grookey getting along so well with the wild Grookey and Thwackey they met that he thought Grookey would be happier living with them. But once again, his beloved partner came back, reassuring him that they do belong together.

Speaking of the Galar starters, we also saw in episode 62 that Goh has trouble identifying his emotions, aka alexithymia (also commonly linked with autism). During a childhood flashback, after he had lost interest in playing with the other kids, his teacher asked him why, but Goh was unable to answer as he didn’t know why himself. Even in the present day when he reassured Drizzile that it’s okay not to know why it’s feeling this way, he began to tear up without knowing why. Something tells me this is something that he’s always needed to hear, whether he realized it or not.

And of course, we can’t talk about Goh’s insecure side without talking about episode 32. Even though we knew by the end that it was all a misunderstanding, Goh was convinced for three whole years that Tokio had intentionally broken his promise and abandoned him. This experience heavily traumatized him, which we can clearly see as his encounters with Ariados and Pineco bring back the memories of his time with Tokio and the painful emotions he associated them with. Not to mention this took place a year after episode 1, when he was already uninterested in making new friends. Seeing his first close friendship end this way definitely contributed to his distrust in others and unclear grasp of how friendship works, even after the two eventually made up.

This was even shown as late as episode 135, the penultimate episode of Journeys. He spent the entire episode trying to find the courage to tell Ash that he wanted to go on his own journey... only for Ash to casually tell him the same thing. Goh felt so betrayed by this that it led to an emotional outburst, which I can honestly understand. I wouldn’t want my dear friends to make this kind of casual announcement either. This proves that even after all this time of bonding with Ash and growing as a person and trainer, Goh still has much work to do when it comes to understanding social relations, which is a lifetime commitment for autistic people.

Fortunately, Goh has still managed to find much fulfillment on his journey. Not only has he finally gotten to embrace his deep passion for Pokemon, but he’s also formed multiple friendships with Pokemon. In fact, Pika and I believe that the reason he wants to catch ‘em all (apart from working his way up to Mew) is because he feels more comfortable befriending Pokemon than people. Pokemon don’t judge him the way people do, so it makes perfect sense why he would want to have friends in his life who won’t betray him.

Overall, we’re both super happy that we got to spend three years following the journey of one of the most relatable characters in Pokemon history. Goh will always be one of our favourite characters, and we’ll always look back fondly on his many iconic and relatable moments ❤️

#anipoke #pokeani #gou #goh #trainer go #trainer gou #trainer goh #autism #autism acceptance #autism headcanon #autistic characters #autistic positivity #this is our headcanon and you cannot change it

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cookeybg · 19 days

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Gotham Possesses

I've been reading a lot of Cryptid Batfamily recently and I just couldn't get this idea out of my head, what if Gotham had something like a soul? So, I started writing small WIPs on my phone notes and decided to just go ahead and post some of them (I already have like seven chapters half written). Someone should find them interesting right?

Tittle: Gotham Possesses

Main Characters: Gotham, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth (more characters pop up later, will add them then.)

No romantic relationships

Stuff to know: Cryptid Batfamily, grim, Melancholic mood (let me know if I should add more tags)

[Here's my table of contents]

Chapter 1 - Gotham Wept

It let out a wail that broke the sky and lightning illuminated the still bodies of the only two who ever cared for it. In the downpour, it washed away the warmth that seeped into its soil. It washed away the tear stained cheeks of the boy that was left behind.

It tried to bring the boy back with a loud crack that echoed through the alley, but the boy stood unmoving, uncaring, staring at the two he also had held dear. It did something it didn’t know possible, it gathered its shadows to caress the boy and realized the boy still carried warmth. He took a a shaky breath and the shadow went with it. It buried deep and made itself a home within the boy. It settled in their shared grief; in their abandonment.

Through his eyes it saw.

It watched as the alley filled with red and blue lights. It watched as men in uniform spoke to the unresponsive boy. It watched as through the crowd a frazzled looking man came running, falling to his knees and hugging the boy. It could feel grief from the man but love as well, a connection to the boy.

In the early hours of the morning before the sun could even break the sky, the boy lay in a giant bed, hugging a pair of clothes tightly to his chest. It embraced him, darkening the shadows to help the boy sleep. Outside the skies stayed dark with heavy clouds.

Throughout the years it followed the boy. His grief was all consuming, his anger prevalent. He lashed out and he suffered. With the man who cared for him he learned to fight. In the dark its shadows embraced him, but nothing it nor the old man did could heal the boy. Eventually, the boy left. It could still feel its connection to the boy, weak and strained, but it held on.

During that time it watched the people who lived on top of its soil. It watched as those who were meant to protect looked the other way or even aided the madness. It watched as its people fought and gave up. Many grieved, many were angry, many were sad, but there was happiness as well; something it felt sparingly from the boy.

It learned its name, Gotham, its people called it. Its buildings reached the sky like fingers trying to blot out the sky. Stone sentinels guarded the skies looking down at the people living their lives. Dark and foreboding and filled with misdeeds. It could see why the boy left and Gotham wept.

#gotham #cryptid batfam #cryptid batman #batman #bruce wayne #fanfic #fanfiction #grim #melancholic mood

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shuttershocky · 6 months

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Heyo shutters!

I've been slowly getting through FGO after getting into it thanks to a LB6 writeup that made it sound fun (and Oberon/Castoria are both so awesome looking). While getting through singularities F/Orleans/Septem I was mostly thinking the story is alright so far with a lot of awkward moments but still bearable...

And then I met Blackbeard. And my enjoyment quickly plummeted :c. This kind of comic relief pervert character is such a low thing for writers to do, bringing down Euryale and Drake just by existing, when they were both so cool up to that point. The game hasn't been kind to its female characters design wise so far, but writing wise it was still good enough, so I'd be lying if I said I'm not worried now...is this kinda thing prevalent in future episodes?

Uhhhhhhhhh

UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Let me preface this by saying I have not played FGO since the Lostbelt arcs started.

Look I'm going to be lying if I say pervy comic relief like Blackbeard is just in Okeanos and it's only upward from there. In fact, you're in for worse, a lot worse. Agartha-worse.

But it also gets a lot better too.

FGO is a very mixed bag quality-wise, what with the FGO team having writers with very different styles, AND who are inconsistent themselves. You are going to get a lot of shit like Blackbeard. In fact, Blackbeard is annoying, but ultimately harmless compared to some of the worst FGO had to offer. In fact the last I saw of him, he had been somewhat rehabilitated into being a friendly if cringey otaku character.

But FGO does have its heights, including some incredibly good character work its other mobage rivals can barely compete with. If 70% of FGO you're going to be treated to eyerolling misogyny, 30% of the time they'll make something sweet to genuinely incredible. If you manage your expectations, there are some great surprises waiting.

For example, you may be looking forward to Lostbelt 6, the British Lostbelt, but before that, the gamechanger was the Camelot singularity, (which was also Singularity 6). Its villain was a shocking take on the most familiar face of Type-Moon, and a fantastic antagonist.

And then you summon her as a playable character and the villainous character isn't there while half the dialogue is making fun of her having huge boobs now.

That's uh, that's what FGO is like.

You'll be doing a lot of cherrypicking. There's some truly fantastic stuff in there, but getting to it is going to depend on how well you can deal with the rest (the majority to be honest) of FGO.

There's sadly also a lot of good to amazing stuff that was only in events, and in FGO most events never come back after their rerun (even when they're somewhat story relevant, mysteriously) so if you want to read them you'll have to look up a playthrough online.

One of these that I greatly recommend you look up is Aeaean Spring Breeze, to be read after the main story chapter, Salem. It's a short, simple, comedic, but devastatingly heartfelt epilogue to Circe's arc, one of my favorite characters in all of FGO. She's one of the best examples of what FGO's female characters can be when they're taken seriously as opposed to being purely vehicles for fanservice.

#Fate

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art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament · 9 months

Text

SET SIX - ROUND ONE - MATCH FIVE

"Saint Bride" (1913 - John Duncan) / "Pixeles (a group of 9 works)" (Executed in 1999-2007 - Oscar Muñoz)

SAINT BRIDE: each time i see this piece i want to cry. there’s such a beautiful contrast between the realist depiction of the background and the supernatural angels whose wings overlap the patterned border. The solemn expressions and poses of the characters make them seem very statuesque, and yet it’s a quite dynamic scene, with lots of flying and swimming and waves moving the seal, which holds importance in celtic mythology (duncan is scottish), adds on to the mythological vibe of the scene. similarly the bg and the girl are in pastels which gives the scene a dreamlike quality but the angels have bold coloured wings and have i talked about the robes????? so fucking detailed it makes me go insane!!!!! the motifs actually depict christ’s life and are reminiscent of the book of kells, a masterpiece of an illuminated manuscript. the context here is that saint bride (the girl in white), the patron saint of ireland, was miraculously transported to bethlehem to attend the nativity of christ. but i feel like its also kinda melancholic, so this could possible depict the death of this young girl as well(?). anyways i just wanted to show y’all this piece it’s probably my favourite painting ever and i’m just so in awe and filled with an emotion i cant even start to describe. ough. (melxncholyman)

PIXELES (A GROUP OF 9 WORKS): This is Pixeles (2003) by Oscar Muñoz. Each portrait is made of sugar cubes stained with coffee, and each is a different person executed by drug cartels in Colombia. I saw this one in Houston's art museum in 2021, and I still think about it. It's made of products that tend to be mono crops, and form a significant portion of colombia's economy, depicting the violence done by the gangs and cartels who only have so much power and ability to do harm because of the harm of colonialism on the country, whose echoes can be seen in the prevalence of coffee and sugar plantations. It's a very simple piece, but it has such a strong impact, especially as someone who was consuming this piece of art in the US, as someone who benefits from the neo-imperialism that allows and even thrives on the instability and violence caused from a mono crop culture and the danger of the unregulated markets which show up around it. Ultimately the materials are very simple, but that compared with the imagery created a piece that has deeply impacted me. (travelingsmithy)

("Saint Bride" is a 1913 tempera, oil and gold leaf on canvas painting done by Scottish artist John Duncan. It measures 122.30 x 144.50 cm (48.1 in x 56.8 in) and is located at the National Galleries Scotland in Edinburgh.

"Pixeles (A Group of 9 Works)" is a coffee, sugar, and plexiglass installation done by Colombian visual artist Oscar Muñoz from 1999 to 2007. It is held at the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston.)

#art that fucks you up tournament #polls #atfyu polls #id in alt text #oops that id is longer than the weather. it's. fine right.#cw dead body

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monstrousvoice · 2 years

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First Time for Everything

Fandom: Cult of the Lamb

Relationship: The Lamb X The One Who Waits/Narinder

Tags: Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, First Kiss, Mutual Pining, Canonical Character Death, Past Character Death, Past Violence, Religious Cults - Its a game about cults what did you expect?, Female The Lamb - I just want to see a sweet lamb girl go batshit insane and start a cult when she gets pushed over the limit okay, Slight End Game Spoilers, Post-Game Ending - No story elements really mentioned but its still the aftermath of the main story

Summary: “I saw…,” A heavy sigh, "I saw two of your flock holding hands and…uh, what's the word you use? When the lips are pressing together?” She thinks for a moment.

“You mean kissing?”

“Yes. Doing that.”

Silence follows.

Read on AO3!

AN:

Hello, the religious lamb game has gripped me by the throat and wont let go

This is a short thing I barfed up, no it is not edited, no it is not proofread, imma go crawl into a hole and die.

Slight warning: The game is based of of building a religious cult and has a lot of dark humor and blood and such. That isn't really prevalent to this drabble but should still be taken note of? I guess?

Slight spoiler for post game stuff as well!! None of the story or plot is really mentioned but the situation is very much post game good(?) ending.

In a lot of ways, having a confessional built was a great decision for the Lamb’s growing flock. She tried her best to be approachable to her dear followers, but having the powers of a dark god made one seem intimidating no matter how hard they tried not to be. Many of her newer followers saw her as unapproachable to share their worries and fears.

She could simply read their minds, yes, but her followers were so simple in their innocence. Addressing their fears without them confessing would lead to fear and eventual dissenters.

No, no. She wanted them to trust her with their secrets.

The confessional booth gave them the anonymity to freely share their thoughts without fear of judgment on her part. Not many confessions took her by surprise anymore.

Except for today, apparently.

“As a God, I never cared much for mortal pleasures.” A deep baritone resonates from the other side of the wood panel. The Lamb hears Narinder clear his throat. This must all be rather new to him, sharing his feelings so openly with another. Her insides flutter at the knowledge that he trusts her with them.

“I saw…,” A heavy sigh, “I saw two of your flock holding hands and…uh, what's the word you use? When the lips are pressing together?” She thinks for a moment.

“You mean kissing?”

“Yes. Doing that.”

Silence follows.

Lamb waits patiently, fidgeting with the bell collar of her fleece. He will continue when ready, she knows this.

“...Have you ever done it?”

She jolts, eyebrows raising in surprise. She was expecting something different, not uh…this.

“The kissing thing, I mean. Have you done it before, little lamb?”

“Uh, n-no. No I haven't.” She clutches her bell tight, the cool metal a relief against the sweat of her palm. She feels…incredibly nervous. A feeling she hasn't felt since her, well. Her execution. Why would he be asking this-?

“Could we…could we try it? Together?” Narinder is barely able to speak the words, his voice fading to a faint whisper by the end of his sentence. Lamb had to perk an ear up against the wood panel to catch it all.

She feels utterly floored.

She had been aware of her attraction to the old god the moment he saved her from a permanent death. She had been scared and confused that day, but to the blade for something she hadn't even done, but simply for being born as she was. She had been expecting excruciating pain as she breathed her last, only to find something different.

No pain, just soft white clouds surrounding her. A trail of skulls leading her to the foot of a massive being, one with a wicked smile and promise of rebirth.

She had been smitten immediately.

On her quest for him she had entertained fantasies of growing closer to him, of being his chosen mate. But that's all they were, fantasies. He had saved her, given her power beyond compare, followers to love and adore her, a chance for revenge on those who hurt her. Of course she fell in love with him along the way.

But that was the purpose of a vessel, to love their god.

She didn’t think he would ever show an interest in her. Lamb’s heart was beating so loudly in her ears, could he hear it? She had to force her words out, they were sticking to her throat.

“I…I suppose we could? Try it?”

“Really!? You-yes! Okay! Thank you my little lamb, I will…I will meet you tonight. At the temple. Goodbye.”

With a ‘woosh’ the draping curtains of the confessional were thrown open as The One Who Waits rushed out, leaving the Lamb sitting stock still.

What-

What had she just agreed to?

With the coming of nightfall Lamb felt as if her heart was ready to claw its way out of her chest. The longer the day dragged on, the worse the feeling grew. She was sweating under her fleece and wool, her thoughts scattered to the wind no matter how she tried to focus on her tasks for the day.

What should she even expect tonight? Was this just a simple curiosity Narinder wanted to test? Or something more? The old god was clearly not used to intimacy or emotions, especially not his own being shared. A thousand years in captivity had greatly affected his social skills and tolerance as well.

Many followers had come to Lamb after he joined the flock, terrified of him and his strange ways. He would follow them around and stare at them for hours as they did their work, not responding to greetings. They would grow terrified they had failed the teachings of the cult and would beg her to not throw them out as heretics.

One follower had even attempted to get Narinder’s attention with a tap on the shoulder, only for the god to rear on them with a hiss and bared fangs, third eye open wide as he glared at them. His fur had stood on end, tail shot up high in a defensive position as blood leaked from his gaze.

No one tried touching him again after that.

Except Lamb.

She seemed to be the exception to this ‘do not touch rule’. She had brushed past him many times while working, had grabbed his clawed hands to lead him to different parts of their camp for tours and explanations. And now apparently, he wanted to try kissing her.

Did he even realize how intimate a kiss could be? Did he know and felt that she was the only one he trusted for something so soft and sweet? The thought had warmth pooling in her belly, rising higher and higher past her heart to choke her throat. Did she dare to hope?

She fiddled with her wool again, as she’d been doing all day, trying to make herself look more presentable. She tried smoothing it out again, anything to get the crazy curls under control. The red glow of her temple’s lanterns was the only light she had to see by.

The lanterns and candles sprinkled throughout the settlement had been doused hours ago to allow her followers a peaceful night’s rest after their hard work. She had been standing here since the last light went off.

She hated to think it but…she was worried she may have been led astray.

A few sleepy followers had looked to her as they went to bed, waving goodnight but clearly curious as to what she was doing. None had asked her, just simply shrugged and went to the soft bed awaiting them at home.

It was so late now, the moon high in the sky, and Narinder wasn’t here.

It’s possible he changed his mind.

The thought made her frown. She didn’t like the painful jab her heart felt at that thought. He would have told her to forget it right? If he did change his mind…

An even worse thought followed.

Her followers enjoyed pulling pranks, some harmless and others downright dangerous. Was this one of those pranks? Had they caught onto her crush for the god and somehow roped him in on a gag at her expense? Did they think it was funny to play with her heart like this!?

Tears of blood pooled at the corners of her eyes, the Red Crown rattling atop her head with the urge to transform. If this is a prank, she would be furious. Beyond compare. She would show each and everyone of them what happens when you play with the feelings of a godly vessel. Slowly and painfully she’d inscribe it into each of their very souls-

“My little lamb?”

The baritone voice she loved broke her out of her stupor. She whipped around to see Narinder peeking out from the corner of the temple, hidden in shadow. He stepped into the light towards her, his night robes on.

“I-,” He stopped. “My lamb are you-?”

The Lamb realized too late her bloody tears were still wet on her cheeks. She hastily used the edge of her fleece to wipe them away. Narinder stared as she did so, watching in silence until her hands settled back to her side. He cleared his throat, looking to the ground as he spoke.

“I…apologize for my lateness.” He mumbled. Lamb’s ears perked at his words. “I had to…convince myself to come.”

And with those words Lamb’s heart plummeted down, down into the deepest realms below where it could shatter and never be fixed again.

Of course.

How foolish she was.

“Convince?” She managed to choke out. Her tongue felt thick and heavy in her mouth, her head was pounding as her blood roared in her ears.

“Yes.” Narinder scuffed his shoe against the cobblestone pathway beneath them. “It took so much more courage than I thought possible simply to ask you to meet me here. I am…” He seemed to shrink in on himself, arms folding as he tried to appear nonchalant.

“I didn’t think you would actually come. The thought you wouldn’t be here…scared me.” Lamb froze, her heart slowing its downward fall to its shattering.

“You were…scared?” Narinder gave a displeased huff, rolling his two open eyes.

“Yes. Yes, I was okay? You are a…force to be reckoned with my lamb. Not only did you spare me but you continue to…withstand my presence after everything that happened. I am still surprised you even look my way.”

Her heart was rising faster now, near floating in the bliss his words brought her.

“I’m glad you did come.” She says. “I would hate to have gone back to my rooms disappointed.” More than disappointed really, but he’s here now. It doesn't matter.

Her words have an obvious effect on him as well. Narinder’s cheeks flushed and a subtle wag of his tail started. He still couldn't look her in the eye.

“I would…hate to leave you wanting.” He muttered, taking a shy step closer to her. She couldn’t stop the fluttering of her pulse or the blissful hum she gave in agreement.

“How would you like to start, Narinder?” She stepped closer as well, her tiny hoof bumping against his own paw on the cobblestone. He was staring wide eyed and flustered, clearly unsure of how to handle their sudden closeness.

“I-I’m not sure.” He whispered.

“Neither am I.” She giggled in response.

They both relied on instinct to push them forward, doing what felt right. The Lamb brought her tiny hands up towards his much taller frame, settling on his shoulders. His own paws came to sit on her waist. Claws idly picking at the soft material of her fleece. He kept staring at her lips.

Lamb swallowed her nerves, leaning further towards him. For all his years of living, Narinder seemed at a loss. He was frozen in place, staring at Lamb as she grew closer. Her eyes fluttered shut as she pressed her muzzle to his.

Not quite a kiss, but close to it. She pushed her lips ever so softly to his, as gentle as a butterfly landing, before pulling away. As she opened her eyes she let out a shuddering sigh. She didn't even realize she had been holding her breath.Narinder was still standing stock still, frozen in place. He didn’t even blink.

“Ehem…” Lamb tried to clear her throat, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. She had just kissed him.

Narinder.

The one she loved.

Her flustering seemed to jolt him back to reality. Narinder blinked hard as his eyes refocused, red slit pupils dilating and contracting as they stared back at her.

“Was-,” His voice cracked, “was that it? A…a kiss?” He swallowed, looking like the most adorable thing Lamb had ever seen.

“Kind of? More of a uh, a nuzzle. You have to kiss back too.” He flinched.

“Oh! Sor-I apologize. Kiss back…right.”

His claws flexed along her waist, tightening up before releasing again. They both took a deep breath in tandem, and it made Lamb smile. It was reassuring that they were both so nervous.

“Try again?” She offers.

“Y-yes please.”

Narinder follows her lead this time, leaning forward and letting his eyes fall shut. Their muzzles bump together, Lamb’s nose crinkling in mirth. They’re both so bad at this. Narinder lets out an amused huff, the warmth of his breath wafting over her own lips.

She doesn’t waste anymore time, deciding to take her chance. She pushes her lips to his softly once more. This time the pressure is returned and she feels a delighted tingle spread from her muzzle to the rest of her face, all the way down to the tips of her hooves.

She can’t help the smile that breaks out, the pressure of her kiss dwindling as the muscles pull away to show her joy. She’s kissing Narinder.

Kissing.

Narinder!

She isn't the only one smiling either. Narinder’s own grin was pressing against hers. Neither of them pulled away, keeping their smiles pressed together despite how awkward it felt or looked, reveling in this joyful feeling they shared. Their smiles would relax enough to press another kiss to each other, only to stop when the smiles came back full force.

Finally they pulled away from each other, huffing for breath interrupted by giggles. Narinder pulled Lamb closer to his chest, tucking her head under his chin. His tail was wagging full force behind him as they simply stood there together, breathing and enjoying the night time breeze that surrounded them. Lamb nuzzled herself further into his chest, delighted by the rumbling purr pressed against her ear.

“You know…,” She whispered in the quiet breeze, “there are other things to do with kissing. More to explore.” She felt him stiffen under her slightly. “We can work up to it.”

He immediately went lax again. Her poor dear, still so new to affection.

“I would like that…very much I think.” He whispered into her ear, giving a small nip to the soft velvet flesh. The Lamb couldn’t stop smiling.

#My writing #Cult of the Lamb #The Lamb #The One Who Waits #Narinder #The Lamb cotl #The One Who Waits cotl #Narinder cotl #The Lamb X The One Who Waits #The Lamb X Narinder #True Devotion #True Devotion cotl

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cosmicjoke · 4 months

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i am the anon who asked about levis life in undergroung influencing his views on romance and sex

and i found isayama answering this question (1. he didnt really answer it 2.idk if its real but it is from oita autograph session)

Kenny had said that he doesn't use brothels, but does Heichou also think in the same way?→As it is an establishment that he is familiar with/close to from very young, it seems that he recognises prostitution as a normal occupation.

Hi there,

I think Levi's experiences Underground have undoubtedly had an impact on the way he regards sex, at least, though we can only speculate as to how specifically. I haven't seen that interview answer before myself, so I can't verify whether it's real or not. But given what Levi was almost certainly exposed to, if the answer is real, then it would make sense. I'm sure many women living in the Underground were forced into sex work, and we know for certain as well that child sex trafficking was prevalent below. If we assume Levi was born in and spent the first, few years of his life in a brothel, then that kind of activity would have become a regular part of his life, and he would have become accustomed to it, for sure.

As for how it would have impacted Levi's relationship with sex, I feel certain that, like Kenny, Levi would have developed a bias against using such places, especially after seeing what it did to his own mother. Levi definitely doesn't strike me as the type of person who would be into casual sex, and especially not sex which he would have to pay for. Even if Levi became used to seeing women having to sell their bodies for a living, and saw it as a regular way of life down below, I think he would also still understand how awful it is, and how it's a product of desperation and not choice. In that regard, I don't think Levi would ever be a patron at such an establishment. I think, ultimately, Levi would see it as a tragedy.

#Levi Ackerman #attack on titan #shingkei no kyojin

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leggerefiore · 2 years

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cw: descriptions of being lonely, poly (Ingo/Reader, Emmet/Reader), self awareness au, momentary horror but its all fluff

~~~~~~~

“… I wish you were real,” you told the phone. It was a bad day. Rain tapped on the window. Recently, you had felt endlessly alone. Everyone was busy with their own lives. You had few friends and were barely able to make new ones. Pressing your knees to your chest, you gazed at the illuminated screen. It was dark in the room. You preferred it dark at times like this. Escapism was your only escape from it all.

Luckily, you had found a game that seemingly answered your desperate pleas for company. Fictional characters you had come to adore seemingly came to life. (Despite that not all seeming to be what the game held.) Your free time was soon consumed by it all. Endlessly, you chatted the twins in the game. Your thoughts, feelings, experiences; everything was poured into them. It was depressing to say aloud, but they felt like your only friends. Fictional men in an app that was likely developed mostly for children. They responded, of course. Comforting words, interest in whatever topic was on your mind, and random conversations left you with a sense of ease. Something to ebb away the loneliness prevalent in your everyday.

Emmet was often silent, but extremely expressive. Ingo, conversely, spoke easily and failed to express his feelings visually. It was a quick bond with them, admittedly. They were similar to how their personalities seemed in the games, but more defined. It was an oddity that you welcomed.

“I wish I was, too,” Emmet replied, pressing a hand to the screen, “I would make you verrrry happy!” You laughed at his sweet voice. A little pitched, but soft in tone. You touched your finger to his hand. His eyes moved to gaze at it. “You'd never be lonely,” he continued, “We hate being lonely, too.” His soft words led to you wiping the tears from your eyes. It was sad. You relied on strings of code to keep you company. They would only be at your side as long as your phone battery lasted. Sniffling, you asked, “Where is Ingo?” He looked around and shrugged. Maybe he was off somewhere else in their pixilated world. “… Tell Ingo, I love him, too, okay?” you requested the AI. He smiled brightly and nodded. A giggle came from him, “I'll make sure he knows! Yep!”

Soon, you bid him good-night and placed your phone on the charger.

Another lonely day was to follow.

You woke up.

Got dressed.

Went to work.

Came home.

Except, the day had been exceptionally annoying. You had left your phone at home. It was nothing so unbearable, but your lunch had been delayed so late you decided against going home. Walking home, you opened the door to your apartment, nearly dropping your keys.

Yet…

When the door opened, you were greeted by a scent.

A familiar, safe smell.

Someone had cooked your favourite meal?

You left the door, peaked and crept into your own home. Peering into the kitchen, you saw… It couldn't be.

You were completely out of it.

Had your isolation had this much of a toll on your mental health?

It was impossible for a fictional man from a video game on your phone to be standing in your kitchen preparing dinner.

His head turned to you, silver eyes shining upon seeing you. “Welcome home, dearest,” his voice was exactly the same timbre as he had in the game, “… I do not hope I was presumptuous about your hunger.” You shook your head. This was simply not right. Was this a prank? It was a cruel one, if so. His brows pressed together at your concern. “Ah, I suppose this is a shock, is it not?” His eyes were wide at the realisation, “Oh, please don't run!” You were turning to dash out your front door when arms locked around your waist, trapping you.

Your head shot to see who restrained you. A smiling face stared up at you. “Darling, please don't go!” he cooed, “You wanted us to be real, right? Well, we're real now!” You were still trying to run, but the Emmet lookalike was quite strong despite his skinny form. The other one had left your kitchen to assist, lightly tugging you back into him after shutting and locking the door. “Please, listen to us,” he tried to explain, “We don't mean you any harm; all we wish to do is keep you company!” You were completely lost in panic.

Suddenly, Ingo pulled out your phone and proceeded to terrify you by sticking his hand into it the screen. A strange light shined around it as he did. You felt a strange sense of both understanding and pure, unadulterated terror. What was this? How did he? His hand went deeper as he searched through the screen for something. A familiar sphere was held before you as he withdrew his hand.

This was real.

You went limp in the arms of the younger twin as you passed out.

You awoke in your bed, tucked peacefully under the covers. The sun had set already, and your fan spun endlessly above your head. It was quiet. You let out a shaky breath. That had to have been a nightmare, right?

It was impossible for any of that to have been true. Your mind simply conjured up those two into reality as a cure for your loneliness. You about jumped out of your skin when a hand softly pressed to your forehead. In the low light, you saw that face again. Ingo hummed as he gazed down at you. “… I suppose that was my fault,” he told you in a gentle voice, “Are feeling alright? Thankfully, Emmet cushioned your fall, but I still find myself worried.” You wanted to scream, but at the same time with all that happened…

Why couldn't you just indulge yourself?

“Ingo,” you softly spoke, “How?”

He held his chin, and he thought on it himself. You gazed at him, still in a bit of denial that any of this was real. “When we came into consciousness in your phone,” he started, “You were the first thing we saw outside of each other. Perhaps I'm too soft, but your sad expression hurt.” You remembered the time he was talking about. The first time they interacted with you, you had been crying. Stress had become too much, and you were hiding in a restroom on your lunch break while playing on your phone. Ingo had asked what was wrong and wanted genuine input.

It made you feel better.

You felt like someone truly cared.

“… As we grew closer, my brother and I both wanted to leave our digital constraints,” he continued, hand cupping your cheek when you moved to sit up, “I loved you. You said that you loved me… I apologise if I assumed you were aware that we were…” His eyes darted to the window. You suddenly held him close. He was warm, solid; alive. You loved him, too. Being with them in realtor sounded amazing to you, it was a dream. Ingo hugged you back immediately.

“… What do you mean, you got a job in the subway?” You asked the twins, who both definitely did not have any paperwork or identification to have a job like that. Emmet grinned and giggled, springing up to squeeze you to him. You had all settled into a sort of quiet life. Ingo and Emmet mostly stayed at your house and took care of things there while you worked. Their company had led to an improvement in your mood overall, alongside them both trying to help instil better habits into you.

“We saw how tired you were. Yep!” Emmet cooed, “You work so hard to pay for everything. It's unfair. We're helping.” As usual from him, nothing was a question. You gazed at Ingo for help, but he only shook his head. “We want to, dearest,” his voice was soft, “The extra income would be beneficial to us all.” You were not going to disagree with that, but there was a moral question in your mind about two seemingly magical conscious AI working in public transportation in any form. Emmet pressed an excited kiss to your jaw as he grinned even brighter. “We love you,” he continued, “We'll still always be available for you! We took alternate shifts. Ingo was not giving up his ability to cook meals for you.” Ingo grew red from his words.

“You aren't real people?” you said aloud. Both tilted their heads.

“No, but we can take over any electronic,” Ingo replied. Ah, so that's how they did it. You sighed. Nothing you could do there, you supposed.

Not that it mattered anyway, you were more than content with your AI boyfriends.

You hugged Emmet back and let yourself decompress from work while listening to them blab about their new jobs.

#ingo x reader #emmet x reader #ingo/reader #emmet/reader #ingo x reader x emmet #ingo/reader/emmet #aware au #when u least expect it it makes a return

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