#see at first I was certain this was Ashton

[iwanttobepersephone]

You’re good at boosting my confidence in myself just by being confident yourself

I'm so glad!! Everyone should be able to feel confident ^^

[samcarter34]

Since people seem to once again be having trouble remembering the order of operations, let me just remind everyone:

The ability Laudna possesses to feed Delilah is Hunger of the Shadow. In the fight with Bor’dor, Laudna used that BEFORE Orym’s head nod. Bor’dor attacked them and her response was to do the thing she knew would give power to Delilah. Matt even makes the sound of Delilah’s heartbeat.

The spell she used after the head nod? Whither and Bloom. The same spell she later attacked Orym with, which isn’t even a warlock spell.

And speaking of the head nod, you want to know what’s it’s prefaced with? ‘Laudna you can do whatever you want.’ And Marisha responds by saying that Laudna is ‘barely present’ because she’s having ptsd flashbacks to all of the times something horrible happened to her and she couldn’t do anything about it. So she kills Bor’dor because it makes her feel in control of the situation.

And yeah, the 4SD where Liam says Orym thought Delilah might come back. Except y’all somehow took that and made it seem like he’s the one who shoved Laudna over the edge when what actually happened is that Laudna flung herself off it because betrayal is triggering to her.

And the sword. The sword which apparently wasn’t triggering enough that Imogen contemplating whether the Vanguard were good guys didn’t cause any reaction. Or for that matter, make her object to Ashton’s ‘this is permission statement.’ But she saw Orym wearing it, got uncomfortable and then all it took was one sentence from Delilah for her to decide to steal it. Delilah, who mutilated her, murdered her, has been possessing her for decades, and who basically held her soul hostage when BH wanted VM to resurrect Laudna. But what Delilah didn’t do? Tell Laudna to steal the sword.

I wasn’t around for campaign 1, but in campaign 2 I definitely noticed a trend that people who were all ‘I love women! Female characters rock!’ would, the second one of their alleged faves did something controversial (or just something they didn’t like) would find a way to shift the onus onto someone else so she could remain blameless. And that is definitely continuing this campaign, and if anything is getting worse (which, not to get into speculation, but I wonder if it’s because all of the female characters this go round are more traditionally feminine than last campaign.)

I think the reason Orym’s been getting raked across the coals so hard by certain parts of the fandom is actually because of this. Because Imogen’s repeatedly gone ‘what if the Vanguard have a point’ and Laudna agrees with everything she says, whereas Orym’s been pretty consistently ‘no, the murder cult that murdered my family are bad guys.’ And well, can’t go around admitting that our faves did something wrong.’

And so we have a situation where Laudna attacks Orym, but somehow that’s Orym’s fault because the possibility of Laudna doing something wrong ruins people’s lesbian cottegecore fantasy. But the thing is, that whole thing was all Laudna. She chose to listen to her first murderer when Delilah said ‘maybe it’s cursed’ and then she chose to blanket the room in magical darkness (sorcerer ability, not warlock) chose to cast an area of effect spell to destroy the thing Orym was using to sheath the sword (sorcerer spell, not warlock) and, upon hurting Orym, chose not to drop said darkness, which meant Orym couldn’t see who attacked him. And when she got caught, she tried to downplay what she did, tried to say that because she didn’t mean to hurt him it didn’t count, refused to apologize for actually hurting him, kept shifting her argument (and even low key got called out on it by Imogen when she asked Laudna why she’s want its power inside her if she thinks it’s so evil.)

There is an alternate universe where Laudna wakes Orym up and they have what probably would have been an intense discussion about the sword (and that might even have been what Marisha was aiming for before Delilah got involved) and THAT truly would have been the ‘both sides are equally right’ scenario, but that’s not what we got. And you can say Orym shouldn’t have taken the sword unilaterally (but somehow Laudna’s allowed to unilaterally steal and absorb it?) or that she’s being manipulated by Delilah, but the fact is that Laudna’s an adult and is responsible for her own decisions. Yes, Delilah is a powerful and malign presence that they all downplayed/ignored, but, to use Marisha’s addiction metaphor, making amends with those you’ve harmed is a part of recovery for a reason. Because ultimately, you are the one who did that. Yes, it does immensely suck for Laudna that she’s been handed the cards she has been, but it’s up to her to make the best play she can.

Wow this got long, but my overall point is that Laudna is a character with her own agency and makes her own decisions (well, Marisha makes them, but at this point y’all should know she’s not conflict averse and is willing to have her characters make controversial character choices). And really, take all that away, what’s left? How much onus can you take from a character before you might as well go look at a painting?

[pawthorn]

It’s kind of funny how certain Ashton is that knowledge of what really happened at the fall of Aeor is going to overturn society.

I think that expectation comes from the classic Taliesin PC Pride (affectionate.)

Ashton has always mistrusted authority. Ashton has always believed the gods weren’t really interested in helping the little guy. They figured it out a long time ago, because they understand the world better than all these normies.

And now, here’s proof for all the normies that the gods don’t care about mortals as much as they care for their siblings— even the evil ones. And Ashton thinks it’s totally gonna blow their minds and rewrite everything. People won’t know how to handle it!

Which, even within their group is demonstrably not the case.

Ashton is so certain of his unique perspective being truer and clearer because of their trauma (and that’s… not really how trauma works) that he can’t fathom that people of faith may have already grappled with the fact that the gods are messy. That seeing what happened in Aeor might be heart wrenching, terrifying, but ultimately will likely still fit into most people’s view of the gods.

After all, the fate of Aeor and the gods’ role in its downfall (lol) has never been a secret. The new information is how oppressive Aeor was, how much the choices of its wizards contributed to the total loss of life there; the flight of the Cognoza and Selena’s Wish, specifically.

But Ashton has a deep sense of superiority toward the faithful, as well as a very specific value system that doesn’t take into account the values of others. (Hell, of the ten gods whose will was active in Aeor, only three were even “Good” aligned. Saving people was never gonna be this group’s priority.)

Not everyone in the world is concerned with individual freedom and wellbeing first and foremost. Many will see the collective good that came from Aeor’s fall and conclude that the ends justify the means.

[caeslxys]

I’ve mentioned this elsewhere but it feels relevant again in light of the most recent episode. Something that’s really fascinating to me about Orym’s grief in comparison to the rest of the hells’ grief is that his is the youngest/most fresh and because of that tends to be the most volatile when it is triggered (aside from FCG, who was two and obviously The Most volatile when triggered.)

As in: prior to the attack on Zephrah, Orym was leading a normal, happy, casual life! with family who loved him and still do! Grief was something that was inflicted upon him via Ludinus’ machinations, whereas with characters like Imogen or Ashton, grief has been the background tapestry of their entire lives. And I think that shows in how the rest of them are largely able to, if not see past completely (Imogen/Laudna/Chetney) then at least temper/direct their vitriol or grief (Ashton/Fearne/Chetney again) to where it is most effective. (There is a glaring reason, for example, that Imogen scolded Orym for the way he reacted to Liliana and not Ashton. Because Ashton’s anger was directed in a way that was ultimately protective of Imogen—most effective—and Orym’s was founded solely in his personal grief.)

He wants Imogen to have her mom and he wants Lilliana to be salvageable for Imogen because he loves Imogen. But his love for the people in his present actively and consistently tend to conflict with the love he has for the people in his past. They are in a constant battle and Orym—he cannot fathom losing either of them.

(Or, to that point, recognize that allowing empathy to take root in him for the enemy isn't losing one of them.)

It is deeply poignant, then, that Orym’s grief is symbolized by both a sword and shield. It is something he wields as a blade when he feels his philosophy being threatened by certain conversational threads (as he believes it is one of the only things he has left of Will and Derrig, and is therefore desperately clinging onto with both bloody hands even if it makes him, occasionally, a hypocrite), but also something he can use in defense of the people he presently loves—if that provocative, blade-grief side of him does not push them—or himself—away first.

(it won’t—he is as loved by the hells as he loves them. he just needs to—as laudna so beautifully said—say and hear it more often.)

[cameronspecial]

I Heard That Rafe Sent Someone To The Hospital, Y/N

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  Mentions of A Bad Fight

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Summary: Daisy has heard some rumours about a certain somone causing trouble at a party.

Masterlist

Everyone knows about Rafe Cameron. He rules the campus with an iron fist and most people fear his rage. Girls hunt for his attention, while most men try to deter it. He is known to set the law and if someone breaks it, Rafe lays out the consequences. Rafe isn’t very close to his sister, but he follows his father’s motto that family comes first. So when Ward insisted that Sarah visit her brother for the weekend, Rafe couldn’t refuse. This leads to his campus-wide hands-off rule for his sister. Anyone seen touching her would have to deal with him. He may be protective for Ward’s sake, but he wasn’t going to spend the weekend babysitting his fifteen-year-old sister.

——

Y/N sits in the booth of the cafe, looking over her notes for her elective psychology class. Daisy slides in across from her with a serious look on her face. “Did you hear the news?” Daisy asks, leaning in with her elbows on the table. Y/N shakes her head, “No, I haven’t had time to watch the news because of class. What happened?” Daisy rolls her eyes and sits back in the booth with her arms crossed, “Not the news news, but did you hear what happened at the Alpha Epsilon Pi party this weekend?” “No. Daisy, you know I really don’t care what happens at those things,” Y/N reminds, going back to her notes when she realizes what her friend is talking about isn’t that serious. Daisy leans forward again and closes Y/N’s laptop. Daisy’s eyes bore into the other girl’s, “You should. I heard Rafe someone to the hospital, Y/N.” This causes Y/N to look at her friend with wide eyes. “Who was it? There’s no way that you haven’t asked around to find out who that someone is,” Y/N provokes, not appreciating the suspense she knows her friend is trying to build.

Daisy’s pride is reflected with a smile, “Of course, I know. He beat Ashton to a pupil. I saw some pictures on Insta and Ashton was so bloody. They say that Rafe was high and drunk.” “As aggressive as Rafe can be, I highly doubt Rafe got into a fight with Ashton for no reason,” Y/N points out, always wanting to know the full story, unlike some people. 

 “No one seems to know the full reason, but it has something to do with the edict he made last week.”

“Wasn’t it about staying away from his sister?”

“It was.”

“I mean, I don’t condone violence, but knowing Ashton, I would be pretty angry if someone was preying on my fifteen-year-old sister.”

Daisy’s head tilts and she takes a second to think. “Oh, I never thought about it that way. It is a little creepy. Ashton was probably flirting with Sarah.” “Exactly. Daze, you have to stop judging people based on half of the story. I know Rafe shouldn’t have sent Ashton to the hospital, but Ashton wasn’t exactly an innocent party either,” Y/N argues. Y/N returns to her work while Daisy goes to get something to eat. Even before they started dating, Y/N has always been quick to make people see the full picture with Rafe. What she doesn’t know is that she is going to be spending the rest of her life doing that and she can’t say that she wants to complain about it. 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

[tangent101]

Laudna and Apologies

It was quite telling that Laudna did not apologize during the events of the last game. But there is also a certain... how to put it? I understand the mindset of Laudna in not apologizing... and that is the mindset of the addict and on not wanting to admit fault for her actions.

However, there are two things that happened that I think are going to change things. First, Laudna got her hit. She was given the dagger and sucked it in and sated Delilah's hunger. She gave in. And now the need is... lessened. Delilah will want more, don't doubt that for one moment. She will continue to try and erode Laudna's will. (I have to wonder if the next Will save will be a 19 or 20 to resist, seeing she empowered Delilah.)

Much more importantly, Imogen confronted her. She confronted Laudna not with accusations... but with love. And the look on Imogen's face even as she told Laudna "I love you" just shocked Laudna so immensely because this isn't the first time Imogen has watched Laudna succumb to her addiction. And the first time it happened, Imogen said "You lied!" and fled from Laudna, leaving her alone on the deck of the airship.

Look at what happens in that scene. You see Laudna go from defensive and hostile to panicked and scared at Imogen's actions. She was truly scared she had just lost Imogen. (And Imogen's words... when Laudna asked, almost plaintively, "Do you still love me?" and she responds with "I'll always love you, Laudna. I just don't know what to do with it." Ouch. This was just so... tragic and beautiful and delicious.)

She tries to... downplay it a bit. She tries to... handwave things away, saying "I've always been a lot." Imogen says "Fun scary" and after a tiny bit... I think Laudna caught something in the tone. Or Imogen's facial expression. "Still more fun than scary though, right?" And Imogen's "uh huh" just... didn't quite hold true. Laudna had to ask "Yeah?" and that pause before Imogen said "Yeah." Not supportive. Not handwaving away Laudna's scarying. No. There was thought there. There was the fact Laudna scared Imogen.

That's when Laudna broke. "I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it." Imogen doesn't respond, just holding her close... one last "I didn't mean it" with Imogen finally responding "I know." The desperation. The need. I think this broke through to Laudna. This was the moment she truly realized what she has to lose.

People comment on Laudna hitting the bottom before she can start to climb out. I think she just did. I think that she's realized at this moment the complete betrayal she did. She was so angry at Ashton for what he and Fearne did. (She wanted that Shard. She needed that Shard. And she was refused it.) She felt he betrayed them all. And then what does Laudna do but steal the blade that she herself stated was Orym's to do with. She hurt him in her hunger. She acted as a thief and refused to accept responsibility, she blamed Orym for what happened rather than her own actions.

And Imogen just broke through that denial, that need. She did this with her love. She did by supporting her and in doing so reminding her what she could truly lose if she followed this path.

Something in me suspects that Laudna's going to apologize at the start of the next game. It's needed. But it's not needed for Orym. It's not even needed for the Hells. It's needed for Laudna herself. It's said that an addict cannot start to recover until they realize they have a problem. (I know this from personal experience with a spouse who was a high-functioning alcoholic.) And while an apology won't be what fixes everything, while Laudna is going to continue to struggle with Delilah... she just had a huge scare here. Imogen never threatened to leave. But Laudna was suddenly petrified that every time Imogen said "I love you" that there was a "but" attached, that Imogen was going to leave.

(Orym made a Pact with the Fatestitcher. He openly admitted to this to everyone. Might not Imogen be the next to make a Pact, to have Nana Morri replace Delilah as her Patron... but not as a selfish and greedy Patron, but one that is perhaps more... whimsical and less demanding? I was quite surprised Laura didn't approach Nana Morri or ask her what could be done. Then again, she might very well have felt Laudna could handle it.)

tl;dr - Laudna's likely going to apologize at the start of the next episode thanks to Imogen just loving her and not pushing her away while also not condoning her actions.

[carryonafi]

where did the party go.

ashton irwin x reader; ANGST

a/n: heyyy lovers!! 2 posts in a row (almost) whaaat!! i’ve been working recently because i just went through my entire google docs and sorted everything out 😭 this is something i’ve been working on for quite some time now and requires a little bit of backstory. there will be another part to this series, and possibly a third? let me know if you want to hear about some of the key moments in the 2013–2016 period! so without further ado, this is part one of “where did the party go.”! 🤍

content warnings: sexual innuendos, heavy drinking, smoking, mentions of declining mental health

words: 2.4k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

background: Your relationship with Ashton has been public ever since the beginning, starting in 2013 and continuing to flow and experience the life of 5 Seconds of Summer all the way until the band went on a break at the end of 2016. During those years, you took on the struggles that Ashton and the rest of the band faced which left them all having you as a permanent resident in their life. However, your relationship becomes rocky when Ashton refuses to communicate until the very moment he can’t take it anymore. His impulsive decision leads to you moving out, yet still being in his life because of the others and their friendship with you.

— POV: Ashton —

I could see nothing beyond her. Of course she would be here… of course. Heart stuck in my throat, I turned my attention away from her as soon as she started to look in my direction. We had ended. Months ago, yet I still couldn’t pull myself out of the mindset that she was still mine. I was still waking up next to her every morning, head on the fluffy pillow she claimed when we first moved in and hovering over the shadow of her figure in our bed. Yes, it was still our bed. It would always be. Everywhere I went she followed me whether it be the scent of the hair mist which stuck to the bathroom tile, the fluffy blankets she had chosen for the house, a few products left behind like she was coming back… she wouldn’t.

The music was bass heavy, rattling the table which in turn shook the floor and bounced off of the walls, reverberating in the guest’s ears. In the house I was suffocated, wanting and feeling like a beggar when I so much as looked her way.

“It’ll be like the iHeart Radio night all over again!” Michael made the comment, the rest of the group lightheartedly laughing despite the known tension. I left the circle almost immediately after that, not being able to bear hearing her sickeningly sweet giggle as she clung to any one of my friends besides me. I secretly wished the same, just over a year ago we were sharing smiles at each other and trying each other’s drinks, unable to separate as we made our way to the escort and back to the hotel in a blur.

The back porch brought an odd comfort to me, it was a change of pace from all of the lights inside. Calm, soft, warm yellow lanterns and fairy lights above proudly grown ferns. Although I did feel like an asshole for exiting at a time when people were talking to me, I just couldn’t handle the voices that weren’t her’s. I couldn’t handle her’s either. The vast green soothed me and the euphoria of a deep breath from a joint hit quickly, the blue smoke wandered together, then parted once hitting a certain point in the air. When it couldn’t carry the oxygen anymore. Familiar… Maybe. Maybe that’s why there were now tears obstructing my vision.

A sudden rush of consciousness and self pity struck my senses, cutting deep and forcing me to stand up off of the porch and make my way back inside the house within seconds. Hours felt like seconds and once enclosed, nothing was real. Not the people, not the music, not the house which was once our’s and now holding me alone, not the slow drift of which my rationality began to slip.

“Come on, Ash…”

She was real, though. Touching me, feeling for the stairs with her high heels, whispering words that I couldn’t understand— I went weak. I let her hold my weight, and her soft touch was replaced with a mattress. Clouds. Heaven. She was down with me, pitifully listening to me stutter apologies through tears and a lack of sobriety, begging her to let me hold her one last time before she found better. I mumbled with full confidence that I loved her. I loved nothing more than my weakness.

“I… I can’t.” She uttered those words which was the only blur I remembered hearing, it had to be the worst of it. Not her reassurance or her hushing my pathetic tears, I had to remember what she had pledged herself to. She wasn’t coming back.

Her dress was in my arms during the hours until I woke up, like she had vanished with all that was left being her clothing and a sweater missing from my closet. Everything came creeping in pieces, coming back with each step I took down the party soaked stairs. One led me to her hands, the next led me to her voice, breathing my name and encouragement to help me, then my knees led me to the hardwood of the living space. It was impossible to exist without thinking of her, from the moment I’d wake up it would be torture right away. I wasn’t lying next to her figure. I wasn’t waking up and rolling over to the side, her small, warm frame snuggling up to mine making soft hums and mews in her sleep. The smell of her hair, the freckles lightly dusting her cheeks and nose. All for me, just for me. Her morning voice, mumbling my name into my neck and chest as she desperately tried to get closer to my comfort. My arms enveloped her until she disappeared, then I remembered she wasn’t here again. She couldn’t.

When I walked around the house I imagined her happily skipping alongside me, dragging me over to the couch just to cuddle and burrow in the soft blankets for the rest of the day until one of us had to eventually finish a task.

No more fleeting kisses, no more shoulder rubs, no more long nails tracing my shoulder blades while my fingertips gave the same treatment to the dimples on her back and the dips in her hip bones. No more of her cheek pressed to my chest, arms wrapped around me in a tight embrace because she just didn’t want to let go. No more of the stubbornness which kept me smiling at how ridiculous she could be.

When I got home I would expect a long hug, she always stood on her tiptoes to hug me so her lips could meet my cheek.. or my own. Always warm, everything she possessed was warm. Her giggles, her lips, her voice, everything. Without her everything was just cold. I never rested comfortably because it was so, so damn cold.

I could feel her. Right there. The rise and fall of her chest, hips flush to mine as her soft, pink pout glossy with need stared up at me as a way to beg for attention. Her doe eyes, big and wanton silently telling me how much she needed my love, for my hands to trace her skin and plush valleys. For her small ones to grab mine tightly, tangle in my hair, whisper against my lips about how I needed a haircut before I shut down the sense of coordination for her thoughts with my hips meeting her thighs.

The days lulled by slowly without her there, I thought back to the night she left every single day. My words were not the right choice, she was willing to be there. She was willing to help me, but I didn’t think that something already broken could depend on something else the way I did to her. I had nightmares about the sounds of her heart wrenching, yet gentle sobs as I told her my thoughts. The promise ring still sat on my bedside table on her side just waiting for the day that I could really pull myself together and face her. My only weakness. My only reason, which could have been mine from the beginning if I was smarter. If I had worked harder.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“Looking dapper, aren’t you?” Michael had noticed that I’ve been emptily staring into a mirror for what felt like forever. The abrupt sound of his voice pulled me from my thoughts as I blinked, looking at his reflection behind me.

“Oh, totally. Just can’t get enough of myself.” I replied in a sarcastic tone of voice, rolling my eyes as I smoothed a hand down the front of my suit. Award shows were fun, for the most part. A lot less stressful if we didn’t have a performance, we didn’t have to worry about becoming presentable once again. What can I say? We put our all into anything we play.

Michael grinned in a silent laugh at my reply, scrolling through his phone while Calum did the same and Luke was idle in front of the other mirror. He’d started wearing a lot of eye makeup, not that it was a bad thing. He was getting incredibly good at it, just to think a few years ago he barely felt comfortable putting on some chapstick in public. “Listened to Y/N’s new single yet? Pretty dope.” Michael hummed, nudging Calum’s shoulder to show him something on his phone which was presumably the cover or something… because he nodded in approval and made a comment that I didn’t hear. The sound of her name made me shiver, I took a deep breath and pulled myself away from the mirror to sit across from the others. Their conversation made no sense to me as I was still quite caught up in my own mind, my world of thoughts surrounding me about what this song could sound like. Would I ever listen to it? No, to save myself, probably not.

The one thing missing from this was her by my side again, squeezing my hand and holding on through the swamp of cameras and flashing lights. I could always remember her being the only thing I felt, in all of the chaos. I hadn’t even registered that we had made it out to the car and were sitting in the back already, I snapped back into reality again.

“You good, dude? You’ve been sorta spacey today.” Calum did the same as Michael did to him earlier and nudged my side, I defensively nodded and silently dismissed his worries. If I talked about it, I feared that it would all come out at once without being able to put a filter on my thoughts. Soon enough, we were back in that atmosphere again. Hopping out of the car and putting on an attitude towards the cameras but a different comfort for the fans who just wanted to see us up close, another car rolled in behind us after our driver had gone but I didn’t look. I started hearing her name again, hushed in comparison to all of the other desperate shouts and calls for attention. Fuck, wasn’t I lucky? I just had to keep moving, smiling, waving, making jokes and avoiding the mention of the girl haunting me.

This night was slow. So fucking slow, I just wanted to sit through this and get out of the venue as quick as possible. I wanted to go back to our bed, hold her knitted crop top up to my face and breathe in her scent which was long gone by now. However, we had to mingle. We just had to walk around and talk to people, I couldn’t leave by myself… it was worth a shot to try to enjoy the last few hours of the event. So far, I had been holding myself together pretty well and Luke stuck by my side to make sure I wasn’t left alone in my head. I knew he would do this for me, he wouldn’t hesitate to help me when I needed it. Even if I never vocalized it.

– POV: Reader –

There it was, the movie moment. The prolonged eye contact before an invisible pull drew the two closer to each other until they finally met in the middle, though that didn’t happen. You saw him from afar, shuffling alongside Luke and unable to hold eye contact. His hair was tame, but you knew it at its best. Thick, messy curls, damp from a shower, hanging over his lustful eyes at your favorite times, pushed back into one of your clips so they weren’t disrupting his focus. You knew the best of him, and you needed to see that again. It wasn’t you that ended things, but the chase after he realized his mistake hadn’t stopped until 6 months after you two ended. Bad idea, maybe? Your heels clicked along the tile, drowned out by the natural sounds of people laughing and congratulating, drinks flowing, claps on the back. You was drawn to him the minute Luke had pressed a hand to his shoulder and left his side.

“Hi.” One word that spoke a thousand all at once, Ashton turned with a look of… fear in his eyes. It didn’t go away when your eyes met, but his expression definitely softened.

“Hey, stranger.” He breathed, the soft ring of honey around his iris and between the forest green majority shrinking as his pupils dilated out of love. That was it, from the moment he spoke you knew that the pieces were already mended. There was healing. You bit your lip to hold in your smile, but you just couldn’t. It was contagious, Ashton shared a hesitant smile back with relief. ‘Are you upset with me? Have you forgiven me for making one of the biggest mistakes of my life?’ He wanted to ask, but better yet, your eyes told him more than enough. “I loved the song.” Ashton lied, he hadn’t listened to it.

“Oh, yeah?” You stared up at him, from the trouble he seemed to be having with eye contact earlier, he sure wasn't having any now.

“Yeah, you really deserve that nomination.” He mused, pupils darting up and down from the tip of your toes all the way up to your done-up, hairspray and product doused hair.

“I appreciate that.” You gave a warm smile, hands knitting together neatly in front of yourself. It wasn’t until you made eye contact again that you realized you were wearing his favorite color, his favorite cut– a nice baby blue tight around your hips and fanning out around your frame. Time was cut short, the award ceremony was starting in less than 10 minutes now.

Ashton cleared his throat, checking his watch. “We should… probably get to our seats.” He said softly, still lingering like he didn’t want to leave you behind.

You simply nodded in agreement, bidding him an awkward goodbye before stepping away and letting that invisible string loosen its hold.

The interaction left you slightly lost, even more lost than the moment you actually ended your relationship. It felt like walking away from an opportunity, the real embodiment of stepping away from a chapter in your life. Were you at peace? Maybe, but it was unfinished. You couldn’t sit through this award show, with performance after another the wait was getting more and more unbearable to handle

You needed to speak with Ashton, burn the bridge or rebuild it.

Where did the party go?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Part 2

[utilitycaster]

On the heels of your critique of C3's pacing and the sludginess of it all—something I have been contemplating lately is how the perceived need (certainly ICly and seemingly OOCly) for BH to move at a breakneck speed from event to event has had an effect on inter-party discussions and bonding that I find really pretty tragic. I can't help but wonder, would we be dealing with the indecision and rehashed circular debates we're seeing now if the party had been able to take the downtime they needed to really get to know themselves and each other, and to better define what's important to them? I often see people expressing frustration about how badly certain characters "need to TALK to each other!!!" but to date, I just don't know if the pace of the campaign has created many opportunities for that. And that's the thing I miss the most about the previous campaigns, just having more breathing room to let the characters and their relationships develop organically. I dunno. Increasingly I feel like these are interconnected issues.

I think I've talked about this before so I don't want to get too in the weeds but: yes. I think at this point Matt is like...making space deliberately for them to talk in-game, but at this point the party has spent so long not really talking and we're so late in the game that no one really takes him up on it or when they do it's the old Gods Debate again.

I really think the problem is once again what I've been saying for like, well over a year now. I don't think the cast was given as much direction as they were for campaign 2, nor was the campaign deliberately tailored to this party, so it has always been ill-fitting. Even some of the pre-planned elements have fallen flat (I have innumerable reservations about the Laudna book, but I do want to read it if only because I still could tell you basically nothing about her and Imogen's time together pre-campaign - it's one incident in Gelvaan, helping Zhudanna one time in Jrusar which wasn't even pre-planned but rather their "session zero", and apparently they saw someone with boob tassels one time). Things like Ashton and Imogen's relationships with the gods feel tacked on after Taliesin and Laura realized that having some sort of pre-existing opinion on the gods was in fact deeply relevant to this campaign; I do genuinely want an answer from both of them of whether "I had prayed to the gods and they never answered" existed in their backstories more than 5 minutes before it came up in game because I'd bet good money it was "no, I threw that in on the fly." So you have characters that are a little more broadly sketched, which would normally be fine (I mean, I don't think most of Vox Machina in the original birthday party one-shot had a terribly deep backstory to start), except for the fact that they never had to take watch, they had a patron giving them jobs and a generous stipend from the start of episode 2 until his demise in episode 38, and both Imogen and Laudna; and FCG and Ashton already had apartments in the city so no one needed to bunk up with anyone they didn't already know. The party did not need to take watches; they did not need to decide on a direction; and they didn't have to learn to resolve conflicts and make choices as a collective group. And yes, the pace has been pretty breakneck throughout, so there wasn't space early on for the cast to feel out their characters and what motivated them and how they'd act. I think the first time I saw a large number of people in the fandom going "MAKE A FUCKING DECISION ALREADY I DON'T CARE WHICH ONE" was with the party doing a similar endless handwringing about Dusk in episode 29, and I don't think they've really gotten better. Like, I do think episode 29 is already on the late side anyway, even for a long-running campaign with a lot of wiggle-room; for a long-running campaign with some very specific plot beats planned, this really needed to be done in character creation.

So now that there is more room to debrief and talk, because in-character they're still on a deadline and the world's been ending all campaign, and because that groundwork wasn't laid, they don't talk about anything except the task at hand. Like...I think a defense I've seen of this campaign is that it's about a group of people who really aren't suited for what has been laid before them, but the problem is that's kind of every D&D campaign that starts from a low level and this is a particularly weak example thereof. Vox Machina didn't show up ready to kill dragons nor Vecna, and the Mighty Nein are still Wildemount's best kept secret; both of them grew into their current hypercompetence. Bells Hells don't really belong to their story, nor does it to them, so yeah, hard to talk within that framework.

[biorusted]

So, trying to wrap my head around it all.

The lesson learnt here was ‘Do the risk, but tell the group first.’ Which is interesting because I did not understand that as the source of the issue.

I thought the source was letting hubris take flight and going after a larger power that one felt like they ‘deserved.’

Ashton felt he deserved the fire shard because of his family history with the hishari and the tragedy that marred him for the rest of his life. BH seemed to have a problem with this hubris and ignoring the (obvious to some) signs that the power didn’t ‘belong’ to him.

Which directly relates to Imogen and Laudna’s hubris. Imogen believes it’s her destiny/power etc to pursue the red moon and control that magic, while Laudna has leaned into her patron for the power she can provide. These powers can destroy them but they feel like they can and will control them. This relates because it is pm Ashton’s whole deal.

Power that relates to them: power that they can control and is thus theirs.

Ashton even mentions that the Witches’ idea that Fearne deserves the fire shard because of her natural power and the power of her biological parents is the same flawed line of thinking as him, but they seemingly ignore that, implying that hubris/power grabbing is not the ladies' main concern.

So the signs that I thought were leading to ‘do not think that this strange power is for you just because you think you can control it’ became ‘control the power, but tell the group that you’re going to do it first.’

I believe Ashton sees the disparity, but Imogen and Laudna do not (not sure about the rest of the party.) And that’s why Ashton said ‘it could have been any one of us’ because the lesson they took from this was still to take the risks.

Which is interesting because it implies if Ashton told the group what he wanted, they would have been semi okay with it, even if it led to Ashton dying or almost dying.

I also think it’s interesting because hubris always goes well in a dangerous situation (sarcasm.) Imogen is very quickly sliding down a slippery slope of pradathos’ powers and relying more on sneaking into her friend’s minds to control the situations around them (her words were more specifically ‘If I knew what Ashton was planning I could have stopped it’) which still does not insinuate communication and trust in the group, just an invasion of privacy and control.

Laudna’s lines of herself and Delilah are becoming more blurred, and while Laudna is scared, she also has leaned into this power as well, even comming up with plans if it becomes too much (for Imogen to kill her)

But both of these are ‘okay’ with the group because they have told the group.

Note that they have not *discussed* it with the group, only told them. Whether or not the group feels okay with these certain growths in power and hubris we do not know. I think Orym has certain feelings about it, and as mentioned I think Ashton does too now that they’ve been humbled significantly, but whether either of them speak up about it… Well Ashton has illuded to it and Orym’s goal is to keep the group together long enough to subdue the threat/ complete their missions.

So overall, the lesson that the majority of BH understood was ‘tell the group before doing the risky thing.’ Which while I was surprised and a bit disappointed, I also recognize that it is extremely in line for this group. I think will have some consequences for not being ‘don’t let hubris tell you that the power was made for you.’ and I think their communication needs to improve over all (not just Telling the group before something goes awry, but letting it be a discussion) but at least they understand to talk to one another before something explodes (like with FCG going murderbot this last ep)

TLDR: The lesson that BH took away from their therapy session was ‘do the risk, but tell the group’ which will have major consequences.

[immeasurable-depths]

I’m having some feelings about Fearne. Fearne who doesn’t usually worry about consequences, who always wants to do the most chaotic, the most fun option without a second thought. Who in making that choice and going along with Ashton’s secret switching plan, had a front row seat to exactly how dire and catastrophic those consequences can be. And having to immediately deal with them, to be the one to literally hold Ashton together while they break and combust in front of her, to witness first hand someone she deeply cares about getting torn apart because of a choice she helped make. And how it seemed neither of them had fully considered just how wrong it could go - how making the fun, chaotic choice doesn’t always end well.

And then thinking about what would have happened if Fearne hadn’t been the one to help him - if she’d been outside Allura’s force field, if she hadn’t been close enough to cast Aura of Life, Ashton didn’t have a chance. Being both the cause and last desperate hope of salvaging the disaster - thinking about destiny, and being the granddaughter of The Fatestitcher…

What gets me most is this was one of the most honest and vulnerable we’ve seen Fearne (except at certain points with Orym, perhaps) - opening up to Ashton with her doubts about taking the shard herself, bringing up the ‘sister’ comment to find out what it meant. Earlier in the day, we saw this and then saw her run away after expressing that she thinks Ashton is hot - this was a new timidness, a vulnerability we so rarely see with Fearne. And then later, right before they do it, she’s once again open and honest for the first time, expressing her concerns, reconsidering that maybe this isn’t a good idea, that they should stop and think - a forethought we so rarely see with Fearne, she is met with a confusing kiss (the only one you get - what the fuck is up with that, Ashton?!), let’s herself go with it anyway, and it almost immediately blows up in her face.

I just really need them to have a serious chat afterwards. About trust, and vulnerability, and being allowed to change your mind if something doesn’t feel right. Because I think Fearne, sweet, loving, carefree Fearne, is going to feel responsible in some way, and she got a brief glimpse into how awful it could have been. I think this guilt thing that she has only recently discovered is going to eat away and consume her if she doesn’t get the chance to be mad, to be upset, to feel guilt and regret and come out the other side with the support of her friends.

Basically I really want there to be consequences from this. I hope Ashton sees what a horrible situation he put Fearne in (not that it was entirely their fault, but they definitely played a big part in persuading her and then didn’t listen to her concerns) and reckons with that, lets her be mad or angry or whatever that feeling is rather than being arrogant because it worked (entirely thanks to her).

Wow this ended up long! Also please note I say this as someone that didn’t like the choice Ashton made or how he went about it, but I am so here for the giant shift in relationships and group dynamic that should come from it. I just need them to talk about it properly and not just gloss over the trauma it caused Fearne and the rest of the group.

[irwinsblender]

hi!!! i saw your neurodivergent fic with ashton and absolutely loved it! this is totally okay if you don’t wanna write another one , but could you possibly write one about neurodivergent s/o and having a meltdown one day and he helps you through it and its very fluffy and cute:(

totally okay if not!!! i love your blog so so much:)

thank you for sending this in! i’m sorry for taking so long to get to this request! i slightly rushed this one because i really wanted to get it out and i’ve unfortunately been dealing with writers block again, so i apologise if it’s not the best.

—

meltdown

pairing: ashton x nd!reader

summary: things are busy when ashton comes home from tour and you get overwhelmed, but ash is there to help you through it

warnings: autistic meltdown, autistic overstimulation

word count: 3.5k

✩ ✩ ✩

for the most part, you handled your autism just fine. ashton had become used to it, learned what your triggers were and how to help you out of being overwhelmed from certain things.

however, there were still days that things became too much for you and even comfort from ashton didn’t always help at first.

today was one of those days.

you had been trying to stay positive for ashton’s sake, he came back from tour a mere three days ago. as much as you loved him being back home with you, it had shaken up your routine big time.

the same as when he first left for tour, you were uncomfortable for a few days while trying to navigate a new schedule without ashton being there. it took a while of phone calls and texts, trying to find a way for you to deal with the change. you got there in the end.

you’d hoped that when ashton came home, it would just be you and him for a while. you’d mentally prepared yourself for that to be the only change, having him back home within your schedule again. of course, things weren’t that simple.

the band had decided they wanted to continue making music whilst on tour, jotting down ideas while on the road, figuring they’d meet up once back home to do more writing and recording at the studio.

this meant a different thing happening every week, a different thing almost every day. it was a lot for you to get used to.

some days you’d wake up snuggled together with ashton, get up late, have breakfast together and enjoy each others company all day. other days, ashton would be up early, the guys would come over to work in the home studio, additions of other friends would be there to help with music. sometimes people you’d never met before would be there, catching you off guard. it was a lot to adjust to.

today was another busy day. you were woken up with ashton kissing your cheek, whispering that he loved you and that breakfast would be ready in the kitchen once you wanted to get out of bed.

you heard some noise not long after that, the front door slamming shut, lots of talking and laughter, what sounded like the tv in the living room, before footsteps going back and forth between the home studio and living room.

it was a good two hours before it stopped. that’s when ashton decided to come upstairs to check on you, to see if you were awake or not to let you know about new plans for the day.

he quietly walked inside the bedroom, seeing you were awake, laying on your side in bed with the blankets still covering you. he smiled softly, making his way over to you.

“afternoon, baby,” he kneeled down next to where you were. “how are you doing?”

“i’m okay,” you reached towards him, running your hand through his fluffy curls. “had a lot going on already today?”

“oh, yea, sorry about that,” ashton sighed, he’d hoped it hadn’t been bothering you. “i told them to keep it down multiple times, i didn’t meant to wake you up.”

you shook your head, telling him not to worry. “that’s why i wasn’t gonna come down until i knew they were all gone,” you shrugged. “knew it was the guys anyway.”

ashton stood up, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to where you were laying. placing his hand on your shoulder to run it up and down your arm soothingly. he took a breath, as if preparing himself for the next words to leave his mouth.

“we were thinking about going out for an early dinner tonight, if you felt up to it?” he asked.

“we? as in not just the band? me as well?” you needed to make sure that’s what he meant. on such short notice too.

“i know i'm not giving you much time, and if you don’t want to go, i’ll stay home,” he reassured, not wanting to leave you here alone. “it’ll be the guys and their girlfriends. that’s all. just a little post tour celebration that they thought might be nice.”

you didn’t say anything for a few minutes. thinking things over in your head. it’s still morning, you had until tonight to prepare yourself. it would be you, ashton, the guys, their other halves, everyone you knew. most likely at a restaurant you’ve been to multiple times in the past. it shouldn’t be too bad.

“where?” you questioned.

“that semi fancy restaurant in the middle of town,” he confirmed. “the italian place.”

“okay, um, sure, yea,” you hesitantly agreed. “just let me have a shower and then i’ll come down for some late breakfast.”

late breakfast, as in your routine is to get up, shower, then have breakfast. you always had a shower before breakfast, so that would stay the same today. you needed one thing in your schedule to be the same as it always is.

“are you sure?” ashton asked. not wanting you to feel like you had to do this.

“yea, it’s fine,” it really wasn’t fine. “just give me like… thirty minutes. i’ll be quick.”

“alright,” he leaned down, kissing your forehead softly.

after he left the room, you got to showering right away. finding your towels, undressing in the bathroom before switching the shower on to try and get it to the exact temperature you liked it at. warm, but not too warm. if it was too warm, it almost felt like it could burn, but if you felt any ounce of cold water you’d have to get out of the shower and practically start over.

once you finished up, you got dressed into your loose fitting jeans along with a plain brown tee which you left untucked. you picked up a pair of socks from your drawer, going downstairs with your hair still wrapped in a towel. it’d air dry by the time you have to leave for the meal out.

when you entered the living room, ashton had a warmed up croissant and a cup of coffee ready for you on the table, smiling as you walked inside. he patted the couch beside him, inviting you to sit down.

you sat there, unmoving for a moment as you took a deep breath in, calming yourself now you’re here and ready for this only part of your routine to be the same.

“thank you for warming this up,” you picked up your plate, croissant cut in half for you to eat.

it took a few times for ashton to remember, but if you were going to eat a croissant, it had to be warmed up. just enough for it to still be soft, not crispy. if any of it flaked off, or if you got crumbs stuck to your hands, you absolutely hated it. with it soft, that didn’t happen as often. you appreciated it every time.

“of course, baby,” ashton sat back, holding his arm out for you to lean against him.

you started to eat your croissant, ashton’s arm around your waist while you leaned on your side, always happy to be close to him like this. although, with time ticking by, your mind couldn’t help but focus on the event happening not so far away.

“how loud was it in that restaurant last time we were there?” you asked.

“the music is normally pretty quiet,” ashton reassures you. “and the time we booked is normally quieter than later on, so it should be okay.”

you went quiet again, ashton was for a second before sharing an idea, “we can bring your headphones just incase—“

“no, no, it’s fine,” you shook your head. “i don’t like having to wear them in front of everyone, it’s embarrassing.”

“baby, it’s not embarrassing,” ashton sighed, sitting up to look at you properly. “it’s nothing to be ashamed of, it’s okay for you to need them to help make sure you’ll be okay and not get overwhelmed.”

you knew he was right, but it’s still taking you time to warm up to wearing them around your other friends. there’s nothing wrong with it, it’s just hard at times.

“i’m sure i’ll be fine.”

ashton accepted that you wouldn’t bring them, hugging you softly before he stood up, “i’m gonna go get changed,” he told you. “i’ll be down in a while.”

that while definitely went fast, as well as the time flying by before you’d be having to leave the house. your hair was dry, having been out of your towel to air dry for long enough. ashton was dressed, hair with his curls hanging slightly over his forehead, wearing black jeans and a button up shirt.

you’d be leaving for your early dinner in around thirty minutes. you had become slightly worried for this meal. you didn’t want to ruin things if the environment was too loud, too busy. that had happened too many times to count, and as much as ashton tried to tell you it didn’t matter, you felt like it did.

sat in the car, you couldn’t help but fiddle with your hands, watching where you were driving to. you knew the restaurant well enough, not entirely sure you wanted to be going there.

when you reached the parking lot, you didn’t move. you didn’t reach to take off your seatbelt, didn’t go to open your door. you sat bouncing your right leg up and down after seeing the amount of cars around you. why was it so busy, it’s not normally this busy.

ashton placed a hand on your knee, stopping it from bouncing as much, caressing his thumb back and fourth for comfort. you looked at him, chewing on the inside of you lip in the process.

“it’s gonna be loud in there, isn’t it?” you had a fearful look on your face, ashton sighed

“maybe we should go home,” ashton suggested. however, you shook your head. you weren’t about to let your autism ruin everything again. “why don’t you wear your headphones, baby, it’s what they’re for.”

he reached to the backseat, holding the headphones you’re sure you told him not to bring.

“everyone will stare, ash,” you leaned your head back against the headrest. “just— i’ll be fine. i’ll be fine.”

he took one last breath, nodding his head as he placed the headphones down. he was first to get out of the car, walking around to your door to open it for you. he took your hand after locking it, starting to walk over to the restaurant.

the second you stepped foot in the door you could hear how loud it was. music laying, almost completely full. a long table filled with people celebrating a birthday party. they were causing most of the noise. why today of all days.

ashton squeezed your hand, making you look at him, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you took more and more steps through the restaurant, finding the table where the band were already sitting at.

you didn’t greet them, didn’t even look at them, you couldn’t focus, your mind was racing. they understood that you didn’t deal well with loud noise or busy spaces, so this was not ideal for you at all.

the waiter brought everyone over some glasses of water, asking if you needed more time to decide on food. ashton answered for everyone, telling him you’d need more time.

you stared in front of you, whoever was there you were too overstimulated to care about that at this point. you were about to take a deep breath, when the loud noise of a group starting to sing happy birthday to someone at the table behind you started.

that was the last straw.

your hands started to sweat, your vision becoming blurry as tears welled up in your eyes. you couldn’t handle this. why did you ever think you’d be okay after so many things in your life changing over the past week. you had to get out of here, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“i can’t— i can’t be here,” you whispered, voice almost breaking. “i have to go.”

you frantically got up from your seat, trying not to lose your balance as your legs carried you to the door leading to the garden area at the back of the restaurant, hoping it would be quieter out there.

thankfully, it was, closed off to the public for whatever reason. you didn’t care right now. there were tears streaming down your face as you paced back and fourth on the wooden deck, hands locked into your hair as you tugged at the strands. something you did when you were way too overwhelmed.

you were mumbling to yourself, incoherent sentences that even you didn’t understand. your mind was racing, barely in control of your own actions.

it wasn’t long before ashton appeared outside to find where you were. seeing you, he walked over cautiously, leaving space as you continued to pace, the tugging on your hair getting worse as you cried out. he didn’t make any sudden movements, sitting himself on the seat nearest to you.

“i shouldn’t have suggested coming here, i'm sorry, baby,” ashton apologised whether you could hear him or not. “your headphones are in the car, and there’s a weighted blanket in there too.”

as he spoke, your mind started to calm, ashton was the only person who had ever been able to get you to settle in these situations. however, you shook your head as your feet slowed down for you to almost stop walking back and fourth.

ashton held his hand out in front of him, giving you the option to take it when you were ready. you managed to remove one hand from your hair, placing it in his. he squeezed softly, trying to give you some pressure to focus on.

“it’s okay, love, we’re gonna get you home, okay?” he calmly spoke. “can you give me your other hand? i don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

your hand tugged a couple more times, eventually you calmed enough to stop. but you didn’t place your hand in his, instead you took a step back, causing him to release your other hand. all you did was hold your arms out, making grabby hands at him. your way of asking for a hug when you weren’t able to verbally ask.

he stood immediately, slowly and gently wrapping his arms around your shoulders, resting his head on top of yours as he held you tight. you placed your arms around his torso, feeling his body enveloping you was one of your favourite feelings, one of the only things that could help make you feel better.

ashton felt your chest rising and falling at a fast speed, knowing you still needed some time to calm down. sometimes it took a while, sometimes it would be fast. he wasn’t sure how today would be.

“can you breathe with me, sweetheart?” he asked. “in and out, feel what i’m doing.”

as he took the first breath in, holding it for a few seconds before releasing, he thankfully felt you copying soon after. taking as many deep breaths as he did. when he realised you didn’t seem to be calming down, he knew he’d have to try and get you back to the car.

“we should get you back home, baby,” ashton kissed your head, letting go of you to take your hand instead.

he pulled you along with him, around to the front of the restaurant where the car was parked. he opened the door, helping you inside. leaving your door open, he found your weighted blanket in the back, grabbing it out to bring to you. he draped it over your legs, pulling it up to cover to your shoulders.

he rushed around to the drivers side, wanting to get back home as soon as possible. the drive was stressful, he knew it would be. you cried, gasped for air in your state, it pained him that he even brought you out. he rested his hand on your thigh above the blanket until you were pulling into the driveway, knowing you’d be inside soon.

“we’re home now,” ashton switched the ignition off, turning to you. seeing you were much calmer than before. “ready to go inside?”

you nodded, letting him wipe away a few tears from your cheeks. he helped you out of the car and up to the doorstep, unlocking the door in front of you. walking to the sofa, ashton helped you to sit down against the pillows, getting you comfortable before doing anything.

“do you need anything, baby?” ashton asked, kneeling down in front of you. “your headphones? or i can get you one of my hoodies to put on too?”

you didn’t reply for a moment, but nodded your head, not speaking. but he’d asked two questions, about to ask if you meant the headphones or hoodie, when you answered quietly.

“hoodie,” you mumbled.

ashton stood, rushing upstairs to find your favourite hoodie of his. he brought it down to you, helping you to pull it over your head and slip your arms into the sleeves. he adjusted your top underneath, making sure it wasn’t twisted or caught up in a way that would make you feel worse again.

finally, he sat down next to you, pulling you to lean back against his chest with his arms wrapped around you. your weighted blanket covering you, keeping your mind occupied with the feeling, ashton squeezing you helped too.

you sat in silence for a while, not sure how much time passed, but it was more than it normally is. a mixture of ashton having to leave for tour, and then him coming home from tour to make more music, all causing your routine to change too much for you to cope with.

ashton felt bad. he always hated when you became overwhelmed like this. he hated it even more that he felt it was his fault. he knew how you were with your schedule, and yet he asked you to come to dinner anyway.

you started feeling better, ashton never letting you go until you told him to do so. you leaned your head back to look up at him, smiling softly. he leaned down, pecking your lips a couple of times.

“i’m sorry,” you apologised. mostly for ruining dinner but also for the way you reacted.

“baby, you don’t need to apologise, there’s nothing to be sorry for,” ashton shook his head. “after so many things going on since i came home, i shouldn’t have asked about going out, we should’ve stayed home.”

you shrugged. you didn’t want him blaming himself. it’s not his fault that you get overwhelmed over the most simple things. he shouldn’t have to change the way he does things because of you.

“you got home, made some music,” you started quietly. “not a lot has happened really.”

“we’ve talked about this, my love,” ashton tucked your hair behind your ears. “it’s okay if anything becomes too much, i don’t mind taking things slow until you’re used to me being home again.”

“you shouldn’t have to.”

“but i will,” he told you. “as long as you need, it’ll just be me here from now on, whatever you need or want to do, just let me know, okay?”

“okay,” you mumbled.

you turned onto your side, snuggling up to ashton beside you. he kissed your cheek, holding you as close as he could. he’d do anything to make sure you’re okay, he just wished he’d realised from the start that he should’ve waited longer for you to adjust.

“how’re you feeling now?” he asked.

you shrugged at first. still not feeling like yourself. mostly tired, exhausted from being overwhelmed with too many things going on.

“how about we watch a movie?” ashton suggested. “try and distract yourself a bit more.”

“tangled?” you asked.

“course, baby,” ashton shuffled himself, reaching for the tv remote.

he knew you’d pick that movie, he would put anything on for you if it meant you’d feel a little better. tangled always made you feel better, one of your teenage comfort movies which carried with you as you got older.

as soon as the movie started you were fully engaged with it, fiddling with ashton’s hand in yours at the same time to give you more to do. your weighted blanket helped too.

you leaned your head on ashton’s shoulder, feeling tired after a while, closing your eyes. you let out a breath, finally letting yourself relax.

ashton looked down at you, glad to see you were finally able to get some rest. he kissed your cheek, noticing you’d dropped his hand into your lap, clearly having fallen asleep quite fast. you needed this and he’d let you sleep as long as you needed with him here.

“i’m sorry for today, tomorrow will be better, i promise,” ashton whispered. “i love you.”

✩ ✩ ✩

taglist: @hexsdexs @conspiracy-ash @oliviah-25 @superbloomrry | if you would like to join my taglist, please comment here or see this post

[arclundarchivist]

Not me thinking about the intimate power of love in this campaign.

Not me thinking about how Imogen’s reaction following the first kiss solidifies that she has likely been pining for Laudna for some time and never thought she’d reciprocate.

Not how these two women fighting being puppets in maniacal mages games look to each other and find stability amongst the ever worsening storm.

Not thinking about Ashton and how he claims he doesn’t give a shit about anything. But he does about them. He *does*. He loves them. Each of them have wormed their way past his worn, barbed exterior and even he is baffled at how much he missed the ones that were gone. One, a thief of many things and a giver of something so hard to steal back, possibly burrowing even deeper than the rest.

Not thinking about the three “unromancable” PCs finding love.

Not thinking about the Murderbot finally finding a true reason to live, and solidifying his faith through another wander lost in the world just like him. That literally took off the mask and showed him the truth lying underneath.

Not thinking about the old wolf who despite how he acts, had it in his heart that he never amounted to much and his future was quickly shortening finding a light, a core light of his life returning to him by the whim of luck and the Gods and seeing him for *all* he is, all he’s been, all he can be and telling him: “I love you.”

Not the hanged woman, the stand-in, the lone witch seeking true connection, finding it in the woman who can see every single part of her, and find none of it wanting. An intimate tether through storm, and death and madness and grief, something to rush back to. A true *home*

And not about our little lone soldier, his love gone, clutching to the memory so tightly it scalds his palm and burns his heart.

And not about how he clutched a certain stone in much the same way.

And not how the Chosen of Death itself returned come hell, high water or screaming torment to save the life of the woman who became his entire world. I don’t think he regrets it.

Love is Transformative. Love Holds Us Together. Love Sets Us Free.

Love is.

So don’t go forgetting it now, ya hear?

[thecavernsabove]

okay now i just want to talk about my expectations versus why i have ended up liking certain characters because i am just so intrigued by everything these people and characters do. for bells hells, i went into it knowing i would love ashton because they are the reason I started watching, i didn't think i would really latch onto any other character, apart from maybe fearne because she's a satyr and i am particularly partial to satyrs, and imogen because i mean it's laura bailey!

but what actually happened, is that yes i did get super attached to ashton of course i did, but my top three quickly became ashton, orym and laudna (and as someone who started being able to watch live at the split you can imagine how devastated i was). and recently chetney is really creeping up there. i do love all the characters dearly though.

ashton just reminds me of myself so much, apart from the fact that they are much braver than i could ever be, and blunter too. i wish i could be them and also see all my faults in them. its a lot.

orym was my first introduction to liam o'brien and his devastating little guys (more on caleb later), and just his backstory and the way he deals with people intrigues me so much and i want to see him happy so bad.

laudna oh laudna. marisha ray you have ruined me. even going into this with my minimal knowledge of the briarwoods, her backstory reveal was so intense and it hurt. also, creepy unnerving girlies stick together! she's iconic.

chetney is so wild to me i love him so much. he is so intensely gender as well i love him so much. i love gruff and grumpy characters that are actually nice once you are more friendly with them.

imogen. i will say it took a little bit for her to grow on me but i do love her. i think the bassuras dusk stuff really helped me like her more. also her immense power and lightning scars are pretty cool if you ask me.

fearne. i love how sweet she is and the stuff like being bad at lying and also just stealing little things here and there was really fun. but what made me like her more was when she got more serious and i didn't expect that (foreshadowing for later!)

fcg. now, i still have, mixed? feelings for fcg. in a sense of i dont hate the character but i think the character arc is not something im too interested in, but i do still like them. the stuff with frida was very nice, and i do like the bits that they do - but i think there still feels like there is something missing for me somewhat.

now, with the mighty nein, i had an inkling on who i would like. i thought caleb certainly because we seem very similar, molly maybe because i liked ashton so hey i might like this taliesin character too! and that was it really. going into it though, because i had seen so much of jester (talking about her and cosplays mostly) i thought that she would be probably my least favourite because her personality didn't seem to really gel with what i usually like in characters. but here i am, on the other side with my favs being caleb, fjord, and jester! it was so much watching everything for the first time, even with knowing the big spoilers and then looking at more minor spoilers so i knew somewhat what would happen - but i do that with a lot of things, its different knowing what happens versus actually watching and experiencing what is happening.

caleb. caleb widogast is such an intense character and i loved every minute i spent with him. i spent so much time checking when i would finally see the nein sided tower of his and watching liam describe everything for an hour was so incredible i was in awe. i truely love that dirt wizard so much.

fjord was a truly unexpected character for me to fall for. the first time i realized that i was going to love him though was when they were in the one politicians house early in the campaign and he held his sword to caleb to make sure he wasn't fucking with them. then seeing his growth, the accent change, and just his whole deal i was enraptured. i do miss the southern eldritch blast though.

jester oh my goodness did she creep up on me. i think her initial cuteness that i had experienced throughout just existing on the internet put me off for some reason but i don't know why. however i did quickly fall in love with her, when she had one of her more sinister/serious moments early on. i don't remember what it was but i remember thinking oh. /oh./ okay. i love her. and then her relationship with her mama, and artie, gosh i just loved watching laura bailey do literally anything. the cupcake bit! also the sprinkle bit is quite funny. i also just love doing her voice when im talking to myself. she is also the reason that i take a decent amount of damage spells with my current cleric.

beau. i think i thought that i would have liked her more than i did (don't get me wrong i liked her a lot but she is not in my top three), but she is incredible. as a fellow monk pc i do love going the extra mile with those stunning strikes, and also seeing her relationship with yasha blossom was so lovely. and her bro relationships with fjord and caleb were also some of my favourites.

yasha. after starting with campaign three, it was really hard to not see ashley all the time and i remember having to look on the wiki while watching to check when she would come back every time she left. i think i really started to like her more after her she got taken, and went through that big arc, and we were around her more often. i loved watching her dreams. i loved watching her so much.

veth was so unexpected are you kidding me?? i will say i have yet to have a sam character be in my top three but god he knows how to throw an emotional punch and i love that kind of stuff. i love her relationship with caleb, the detective agency, the chaos crew. i love her arc of getting herself back, of seeing her family again. ough. im a big lover of families.

caduceus. goodness gracious me what a character. i just absolutely loved the aesthetic and caduceus's whole relationship to how he approaches death. he is also the reason i started playing a grave cleric in a newer campaign. but truly, has made me think differently about death - which was especially needed for me this year.

mollymauk. i knew he was dead. i knew he would die. but that didn't make me any less upset when it happened! i think about him often, what could have been. especially since i was so sure he took the wrong amount of damage in that fight and should not have quite have been knocked out at that time. but his whole maximallist aesthetic is something i very much enjoy, and i love the through line of his cards with jester.

wow okay this has gotten to be very long but i need to get my thoughts about everyone out somewhere!! if you've read this far im so sorry this is so much of my own ramblings.

[souperbloom]

hey, i had an idea for a fic where reader is part of the band and is dating ashton. she originally wrote 'english love affair' and it gets chosen on the dice while on tour, and ash gets jealous about her performing it coz she wrote it about someone else so he gets moody - mostly angsty, but kinda smutty towards the end?

the face i made when i first read this, omg. friend, you are a GENUIS. YES.

enjoy, you little genius. <3

————————

my english love affair [A.I.]

🎲 boyfriend!ash x bandmate!reader

after rolling the dice and performing a song about a girl you used to see, Ashton gets jealous over the fact that he’s not the one you’re singing about.

a/n: the boys have nicknamed you ‘peanut’. no reason, just thought it was cute and have been dying to use it :3

CONTENT WARNINGS: angst, tension, angry Ash, ref. to past hookups, strong language, ref. to weed, teasing (sexually & literally).

WORDCOUNT: ~3.9k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

"Thank you, London! Goodnight!"

You watch with wide eyes as your frontman, Luke, blows kisses into the arena, at fans that had been reaching out to the stage since the moment the curtain fell.

A rush of adrenaline washes over you, faced with yet another insanely energetic crowd that had poured nothing less than their hearts out to you.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," You mouth out to them, your hands clasped over your chest in pure adoration.

Above all the screaming, a thunderous drum rollout plays you off; the familiar, rhythmic tapping sounding off like sirens in your head.

It extends for a few minutes longer than normal, as your bandmates throw gifts into the crowd.

You can’t help but look behind you at the drum kit, something you always find yourself doing no matter when or why. For your lover is the one behind those tubs; the one providing you with one of the most wicked bow outs of the century.

Your eyes quickly find the flurry of sweaty curls and drumsticks, anticipating his cymbal crashes as you’d learned them like the back of your hand.

As he destroys the final beats, his eyes glance up to you; a frantic, rage-fueled expression adorning his face with the final cracks at his cymbals.

The crowd grows louder, catching your attention— you take your eyes off of him for a moment, as the rest of the boys start to huddle around you.

"You fuckin’ killed it tonight, Peanut." A broad hand grips your shoulder, Michael ducking down to whisper in your ear beyond your ear piece.

"You too, Mikey."

Another hand wraps your back, Luke coming up to your side to give you a gentle squeeze.

As moments pass by, you and the rest of your bandmates get in order for the final bow. With Michael on your right and Luke on your left, you lean forward to watch Calum join the line.

Your brows then furrow when you notice a certain somebody taking a few extra minutes to toss his drumsticks into the crowd.

"What’s up with him?" Luke leans into the side of your face, gesturing towards your boyfriend with his eyes.

All you could do is shrug, before plastering a smile on your face and speaking through your teeth.

"Who the fuck knows."

Ashton seemed off, to say the least. You weren’t quite sure where his head was at since the second Luke sent that damn dice into the crowd. But the most you could do in this moment was grin, filled with overwhelming happiness at the reception of this incredible crowd.

"He’s coming," Luke mumbles, before switching whatever monotone face he had on into a smile.

"Finally."

You watch as Ashton joins the line, trying to sneak a glance at him over Luke and Calum’s bodies.

But he doesn’t even look up. His lips were painted into a straight line as Calum bends down to initiate your bow out.

You thought to yourself, as your bodies bent down to face the floor:

Whatever the fuck’s gotten into him better have a damn good explanation.

After the final bow to close another sold out show, you and the rest of the boys had made your way offstage.

Being the only girl in the band had its perks— you got your very own dressing room 90% of the time, one decked out with all of your favorite fixings and beverages.

But the best perk of all, was that the afterparties always happened in the boys’ room.

"What a fuckin’ show!" Calum pumps his fist triumphantly, as he is the first to lead you all into the room. He jumps up, smacking the top of the doorframe with his palms and letting out a hoot.

The rest of you funnel in, filled to the brim with adrenaline and post-show excitement.

"God, I know— The energy… fuckin’ electric, man…" Michael still seems in awe of it all, with unkempt pink locks that had been disturbed by him tossing off snapback.

"I feel like I could run a goddamn mile," Luke blurts, jogging in place.

You and Ashton are the last two to enter the room, Ashton still having barely spoken a word to you, or anyone else, since in your fifteen minutes of being off stage.

"You guys want anything to drink?" Calum asks, while Michael and Luke make their way to the couch.

"I’ll take a coke," you shrug, trying to ignore the elephant in the room that just so happens to be your brooding boyfriend.

"Really, Peanut? After a show like that, you’re settling for a can of coke? How about we put some Jack in that bitch and call it even?" Michael looks at you with teasing eyes as you wait for Ashton to find his seat.

Post-show parties and conversations were a ritual for you as a band— each of you needing your own times in the spotlight to debrief, and let off steam.

These gatherings you shared were like a perfectly thought-out routine. Mike and Luke sit down on their couch, Cal grabs the refreshments, and you make your way to your assigned seat on Ashton’s lap. Sometimes, Ashton would roll up a spliff for the four of you to share, especially if the show was one like tonight’s.

But Ashton lingering on his phone in the doorframe was never part of this routine. You didn’t like it one bit.

Michael, Calum, and Luke begin to talk amongst themselves, leaving you standing and watching your beau with worried eyes. His knuckles were practically going white as he anxiously ticked, mindlessly clawing at the pocket of his dress pants.

A snapping sound grabs your attention from across the room.

"Hey, lovebirds— the fuck’s up with you guys?" Luke quizzes, his brow quirked as Calum hands him a can of spiked seltzer.

You shake your head, "Fuck if I know."

Your words make Ashton’s head snap up from his phone; sending a bothered glance in your direction. But you just ignore it. You didn’t want to risk ruining a perfect night over some trivial bullshit.

"Well? Gonna’ take a seat, Ash? That chair’s got you and Y/N’s names all over it."

You stifle a giggle at Michael’s reference to you and Ashton’s routine, your eyes bouncing back and forth between your pink haired friend and your unamused boyfriend.

"C’mon baby, sit down," you coo, walking over to the brown leather arm chair that has been deemed your throne, "Let off some steam."

Ashton lets out a huff, causing the general chatter of the room to grow quiet. The rest of you watch in solace as Ashton shoves his phone in pocket, and walks towards you.

He brushes past your shoulder coldly, before sitting down with a loud sigh.

"Dude. What’s going on with you?— Lighten the hell up."

Calum’s jab only earns a nasty look from Ashton, but you just remain still, standing above him while he leans back comfortably in his arm chair.

There’s an awkward silence surrounding you all, before Ashton’s fingers start rhythmically tapping on his thigh.

"Well? I’m sitting," he says dryly, the first words he’d spoken in a while, "Happy now?"

Luke and Michael toss each other a look, before Calum walks over to you with your drink.

"I’d be happier if you put a smile on that face," Calum says, leaning down to be parallel with Ashton’s steely expression. You try your hardest to remain stern, putting your poker face on lockdown.

As much as you hated to see your boyfriend so solemn and serious, you found it a bit amusing.

Ashton was one of the least serious people you had ever come across, which is one of the reasons why you worked so well as a couple.

He’d tell jokes, you’d laugh, then fire one right back at him. It was just one of those indescribable instances that made the two of you perfect for each other.

But seeing him so stone-cold, so inexpressible, you were sure it was some sort of joke.

You test your luck, shuffling between his legs and fluttering down into his lap. Usually, his hands would instantly grab ahold of your waist, before chatting up a storm. But instead of that, his hands completely dodged your body, folding them into his lap with his elbow resting on your thigh.

"Should I play music? Not gonna lie, I fuckin’ hate the vibes in this room right now…" Michael breaks the tense, ongoing silence.

"Oooh, can you play some Zeppelin?" Luke requests.

"Queue up some ‘Sabbath while you’re at it," says Calum.

As the other boys bicker about what songs to play, you’re left staring down at your lover. His blank expression had yet to dwindle, and you were certain that if you had stood in front of him, he’d be able to shoot daggers into your back with his stare alone.

"What’s the matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?" You ask the question quietly, ducking down into his ear. Your hand travels up to toy with the baby curls that sat at the nape of his neck, which he normally goes crazy for.

But even with you asking, he didn’t move a muscle.

"Okay," you shrug, helpless, "fine. Don’t say anything then."

A pinprick tugs at your heartstrings upon Ashton’s refusal to speak. But you try to push that worrisome feeling down with the rest of your intrusive thoughts, hoping to focus solely on having a good time.

Dazed and Confused by Led Zeppelin starts to roll through the speakers behind the ambiance of conversation, with Calum and Luke now aiming the discussion towards the show.

"Can we just talk about how Luke’s fly was down the entire time? Like, from curtain fall—"

"Fuck you mate," Luke defends, the heated little argument grabbing your attention, "I swear I pulled it up! Must’ve fallen down— ‘er something…"

"It’s true, I saw him do it," You interject, raising your drink in the air.

"Okay, but how did it manage to fall down by the second song of the set? That’s gotta be a record or something… is anybody keeping track?"

Michael practically spits out his drink at Calum’s observation.

"Oh, ha ha, veeery funny. Let’s all laugh at the amount of times Luke has gone out on stage with his fly down… I swear, it’s like Peanut is the only one who actually gives a shit about me." Luke leans back into the couch, looking down at his fly before taking a sip of his own drink.

"Speakin’ of Peanut… dude, what the actual fuck was that?!" Michael shoots up from his seat excitedly, his eyes going glossy at you.

"What was what?" you ask.

"English Love Affair? You haven’t performed it in a while. Not like the way you did tonight, at least. How’d it fuckin’ feel?"

"Singin’ about your mistress in her hometown must’ve been a real culture shock, huh." Calum mumbles.

You can’t help but laugh, "It wasn’t that extraordinary… But, I’ll admit, it’s a damn good song. I did write it for that reason—"

"Don’t be so humble, Y/N." Luke jokes.

As you and the rest of the band go back and forth, you notice Ashton’s leg out of the corner of your eye. It had started feverishly bobbing up and down, with him still not speaking a word throughout this entire conversation.

"The crowd was eating it up, too— you were like a fuckin’ machine out there."

Your cheeks flush pink at Michael’s compliment, "You don’t mean that."

"Oh, but I do. God, I can’t even describe it… When you sing that song it’s like you get possessed ‘er some shit."

Calum snorts, "Yeah, possessed by some good pussy."

That comment seemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back, for Ashton is suddenly shooting upward in his seat, sending you flying with him.

Your head whips to face him, his cheeks glowing red hot. He only utters four words, before guiding you off of his lap and standing up himself.

"I need a fuckin’ smoke."

The lot of you watch in shock as Ashton angrily barrels out of the room, slamming open the door and making it hit the wall with a loud crash. You all jump, before passing each other confused, worried glances.

"What— what the fuck was that?"

You let out an angry huff, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers. Luke only chuckles, before tossing his hands in the air.

"Well, Y/N— looks like it’s time for you to do your thing. Go tame that raging bull."

Your eyes land at least once on all of the boys, each of them giving you a ‘you probably should go out there and get him’ type of look.

"Why does it always have to be me?" You sigh, but Michael sucks his teeth.

"I think you already know the answer to that one, Peanut."

After the boys had shooed you out of the dressing room, you set off down the halls to look for Ashton. You checked every corner, every bathroom, every area with a chair to sit and ponder in; but the angry mess of a dirty blonde mullet and dress pants was nowhere to be found.

You contemplated giving up after circling the same hallway for a third time, your legs feeling like wet noodles as you trudged along the dimly lit corridors—

But you then felt your shoulders relax when you noticed a rock propping open the outside door.

"Ashton?" You call out, pushing the steel-clad door just enough for you to pop your head outside.

And sure enough, there he was.

"Ash," you say again, a bit louder this time, stepping over the rock timidly and snaking your way through the gap.

He was leaned against a lamppost that lit up the parking lot, with tense shoulders and his brow furrowed. He stared off into the abyss, taking a pull from his joint.

You felt as though you were walking on eggshells, trying your hardest not to go into panic mode and start screaming your own head off.

Or, apologizing profusely for something that you may or may not have done.

"Baby?" you try your hand at sweetly grabbing his attention, one last time.

"What?"

"Are you alright?"

"I’m fine."

He ashes his joint, before taking another pull, the veins in his neck practically popping through his skin. You take a step closer, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Are you sure?"

He blows out smoke through the side of his lips, "Yes."

"Don’t lie to me. You’ve been acting like such a brat all night," You warn him, finding the stern, coldness in your voice, similar to the one he’s been firing off at you and the guys since he stepped off stage.

There’s a brief moment of tension in the air, lingering lowly above your head. You hold your breath for a moment, before Ashton is tapping his joint with his eyes glued to his shoes.

He hadn’t looked up at you. At least, not yet.

"If you don’t want me acting like a brat, then don’t call me a fucking liar." He mumbles to the ground, an angry baritone rumbling through his voice.

"I didn’t call you a liar. I just said, don’t lie…" you drop your hands to your side, taking another step towards him.

"…Now tell me what’s wrong with you before I smack that joint right out of your fuckin’ hand."

Your threat brings Ashton to lock eyes with you. You’re finally able to get a good look at the angry crimson hue that surrounded him; with shaky pupils and a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead.

"You really wanna know what’s wrong with me, Peanut?" He mocks the endearing nickname like poison rolling off of his tongue.

"Well, I—" You stutter, taken aback by his serious tone. He then chuckles dryly, lifting the joint and resting his hand on his chin.

"You really have no idea, do you?"

"Obviously not, asshole." You hated to sound so brash, but you were still residually upset by his ignorance.

He takes a moment to collect his thoughts. Only to say the stupidest thing you had ever heard in your life.

"You think I enjoyed watching you parade around onstage tonight— all smiley and giggly— singing about some girl you fucked one time? A time so memorable that you went off and wrote a goddamn rock ballad about?!"

Your eyes widen in dismay.

The rumors were true, you thought, Ashton had finally lost it.

"Oh my god— you’re joking… You’re joking, aren’t you?" Your face melts into pure, sadistic amusement. But Ashton’s face hadn’t faltered.

"Do I look like I’m joking?" He ask the question seriously.

"You cannot be serious, Ash. You’re telling me that you’ve been moping around all night because of a fucking song I wrote eight years ago?! Meanwhile you were the one who suggested putting it on the fuckin’ dice!"

He finally finishes his joint, flicking the roach to the ground and stomping it out with the toe of his boot.

"If I had known you’d perform it like she was actually there on that stage fucking you, I probably wouldn’t have suggested it at all."

A shaky chuckle flies past your lips. "God, you are such a baby! I cannot believe that you’d stomp around and make such a fuss over this! You’re really serious right now, Ash? Like, really?"

"As serious as a goddamn heart attack, Y/N."

The only emotion you could process at the moment was anger. You were completely baffled by his behavior, unable to muster up even a sentence that would aid in your argument.

"…What’s mine is mine, baby. It’s as simple as that. Can’t blame me for gettin’ a little jealous sometimes." His tone of voice had softened, significantly.

Knowing him well enough by now, after almost four years together, you had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to hold a grudge.

And, of course, you were right. As always.

"Ash, it’s been eight years. You’re gonna have to get over it eventually."

"Well— what if I don’t want to get over it?" He blurts, still stern.

Before you reply, you step even closer to him. Close enough to feel the sizzling hot anger radiating off of the both of your bodies and creating a spark between them.

You hated when he was angry. He hated when you were angry.

But something about that anger made your stomach twist in knots. In the best possible way.

You decided to test your luck. To push his buttons. Get under his skin, a bit.

"Then I’d say you’re being a brat. A whiny, fucking brat."

Ashton chuckles, rather dryly, before lifting himself from his slouched position resting on the lamppost. He towers over you, straightening his posture to show off his much larger frame.

"Takes one to know one, sweetheart."

You could sense the obvious switch in dynamic of this situation. Now clouded with sexual frustration, as opposed to just the regular kind of frustration.

You cross your arms over your chest, swallowing back the newly formed lump in your throat. "You don’t scare me, y’know."

All he does is shrug.

"Don’t think I need to scare ya’ to make you scream. Thought we’ve been over this."

That comment only riled you up more, but you tried to hide it beneath a playful glare, "Is that a threat, Ashton?"

"No no no, baby— not at all…"

He shakes his head, slight sarcasm falling over his tone before he’s snaking his arms around your waist, digging the tips of his fingers into your back.

"…It’s a fuckin’ promise."

The speed in which his lips found yours seemed almost impossible. From the way he had gone from blatantly ignoring your existence, to feeling you up like you were the last thing he’d ever touch.

"You’re mine. Y’know that, right?" He presses you against his torso, clasping his broad hands at the small of your back.

"Mmmmhmm," You sigh into his kiss, as he roughly sinks his teeth into your bottom lip.

He then takes one of your thighs in a handful, lifting it up to rest it gently on his hip.

In the midst of the commotion, you realize that you were still dressed completely in your stage clothes. Clad in an oversized, striped sweater that was stolen right from Michael’s closet, and a short black tennis skirt.

You were fully aware of just how short your skirt was. And to be totally honest with yourself, you loved wearing it.

You loved the way it floated around you as you danced, the way it complimented your platform boots and knee high socks…

But you also loved the absolute chokehold it had on your boyfriend.

You catch your breath as Ashton pulls away from your heated kiss; only for a moment. To admire you, as his hand slowly snakes its’ way up your skirt to grip your bare asscheek.

"This ass," he grunts, digging his fingers into your flesh, "is mine."

"Mhm." You nod again. Affirmative. Your bottom lip was still trapped between your teeth with helpless, puppy dog eyes.

"This face?" He removes his other hand from your back to cup your cheek, "This gorgeous gorgeous face? Is mine. All fuckin’ mine. Ya’ hear me?"

You nod at him, trying to ignore his hand creeping towards the hemline of your panties.

"Need ‘ya to use those words, beautiful. Like the ones you used to write your song, yeah?"

One thing about Ashton was that he never failed to piss you off— but he was also damn good at turning you on.

"…Wanna hear one last bit of your poetry before the only word you’re able to say is my fuckin’ name."

"Ash—" You go to speak, but your mouth clamps shut as he traces your inner thigh with his fingertips.

"Go ahead, Y/N, tell me. Tell me who’s really ‘all you ever think about.’"

His head dips down to your neck to leave a trail of wet kisses, all the way to the base of your collarbone. Your hand finds his hair, tugging at the roots gently with each gentle kiss.

"You. You’re all I ever think about… All I’ve ever wanted—"

Your breath hitches as his teeth bite into your skin, his hand finding its way back to the outside of your thigh to anchor your body against him.

"—All I’ve ever needed."

In a swift motion, Ashton is dropping your leg from his hip, bringing you to teeter on your shaky legs and look at him with desperate eyes.

His head pops up from your neck, pupils wavering and twinkling with lust.

And suddenly, your mind is clouded. All of the things you’ve ever needed in a person was right at your fingertips. Any syllable of a song lyric, any chorus of every single song you’ve ever written.

It was him.

"You wanna’ write songs about getting fucked ‘till you can’t speak, sweetheart?"

At this point, you were too needy to care about whatever words flew past your lips. "Yes, Ashton. Please—"

His eyes darken, a sultry smile climbing across his cheeks for the first time all night.

"Allow me to provide you with some inspiration, then."

In a second, he’s lifting you up by the back of your legs, tossing your body effortlessly over his shoulder. You let out a laugh, slapping his back, his arms, anything you could get your hands on.

"Hey! What the fuck—"

Your ass is fully exposed to the parking lot around you, as Ashton begins to walk. You couldn’t see much, but the most you knew was the direction of your shared tour bus.

He leans his head over to you, whispering a little something in your ear that sent chills down your spine.

"You wanna make music with me, baby? I’ll give you somethin’ to fuckin’ write about…"

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

[a-forest-in-her-bones]

Ok, I’ve sat on this for too long…

We’ve got Team Wildemount who we’ve been following for the last few weeks, and I know everyone (including myself) is anxious to know what’s become of Ashton, Laudna, and Orym. First thing, I think the extended stay with Team Wildemount is partly due to Christian and Aabriya’s schedules, but also because of Creator Clash. We may be hopping over to (what people have been calling) Team Marquet soon, now that the pre-recorded episodes have caught up post-Creator Clash, but we’ll see. And that brings me to my second and main point:

I don’t think they’re in Marquet.

I think they’re in Tal’Dorei, specifically at the Pools of Wittebak. Check out Matt’s description of where Team No Healers ended up at the end of episode 51:

“you see yourself kind of sitting on the edge of a rocky cliff almost. The smell that hits your nostrils is kind of sulfurous and acrid, acidic almost... and you look around you and there are these pools of strange colored liquid… you both see this almost chasm like space below you. You can see these little bits of natural geysers kind of *poof poof poof poof* poofing steamy water… as you scan the horizon, in some distance you see, just above the cloud line, the red moon Ruidus standing, and a singular red beam that just vanishes below some far off mountain line… you are in some sort of odd valley-like chasm.”

Now check out the Pools of Wittebak page in the Critical Role Wiki:

“The Pools of Wittebak are located in the Cliffkeep Mountains, between 100 and 120 miles east of Terrah… The pools are a series of large, mineral-rich geothermic puddles across the mountainside…”

So I’m not saying… I’m just saying…Geothermic puddles… near (ish) Terrah, where spooky Earth Elemental Plane portal stuff is apparently happening. And may perhaps be related to a certain Punk Rock’s backstory…

[starvinginbelair]

dude you have just baffled me a little what is your take on iwct? being sex positive? (important) or maybe about unmasking and being positive about all the other things we're ashamed for and think we'd 'fall from grace' if anyone knew? (like i made a joke once about walking into walls from being clumsy/spacing out once that that was what the song meant but i didn't think it actually did) please tell me i am So Confused

personally? i see it as sort of a petty sort of song? with all of the stuff that was happening with luke at the time, and his relationship was falling apart very very publically, it feels a lot like "if these walls could talk, you wouldn't be talking the shit that you are online, because you're just as bad as me". which i think, with ashton being a writer on it translates to "i have so much shit on you but i'm not going to talk about it out of respect to my friend"

the falling from grace part i think connects to public reception/reputation at the time. because before everything with luke and his ex, the bad was generally, big emphasis on GENERALLY, seen as squeaky clean, next up and coming "boy band" after 1d. and when luke and his ex got together, that's the first moment where a lot of the fanbase started to sort of realize that Oh the people we're being marketed are totally different from the people they actually are (which is valid and i'm not saying it's dumb for the guys to want to break out of that image). but i think that "grace", means going from being heralded as these angelic, nice sort of guys, to the reality of being growing young adults who maybe just want to have a good time.

at the same time though, i think my interpretation is very literal and grounded in a lot of how events unfolded in their lives. a lot of their songs are not really that way, and i think, especially with the verses, iwct leaves a lot of room for interpretation. imo though, youngblood and 5sos5 are the ones that are easiest to connect to their lives, and easiest for me to see how certain themes align with specific things that happened during their writing process