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souperbloom · 5 months

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Hiiii! I had an idea for a fic where reader is part of the band and is dating ashton. After their performance since their adrenaline is so high they get high and have high sex 🤭

fucking obsessed with this one. had a blast writing it too. soup nation hath spoken, so sativa you shall receive (sorry it took so long)

enjoy <3

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sativa. [A.I.]

🍃 boyfriend!ash x bandmate!reader

after the curtains close, you and Ashton let out that post-show adrenaline the best way you both know how.

a/n: i’m picturing black hair ash for this, but feel free to picture any era you’d like!

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut!, weed/smoking, strong language, pet names, oral/faceriding(f!receiving), switch!ash :3

WORDCOUNT: 6.1k

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Tonight was a night like no other. You and your band had just bid adieu to yet another incredible crowd, the lot of you filled with so much energy that it left you feeling as though you were about to burst.

"…Fuck yes, dude!"

"Who has my bag?!"

"Your shoe’s untied, mate! Slow down!"

You and your bandmates barreled through the parking lot of The Kia Forum, buzzed out completely on vibes. You had been running so fast, and for so long, that you had completely forgotten what you were running for.

It wasn’t much longer than a few minutes before you remembered, and reached, your destination— the tour bus, which was parked all the way at the back entrance of the arena. Each of you stopped accordingly, catching your breath.

"Why did we even start running?" Your bassist, Calum, has always had a gripe with running.

"Who fuckin’ cares?! That shit was awesome!" Michael blows out a breath, resting his hands on his knees.

"I like running… but not in these shoes… Dear God—" Luke had found himself on the ground, letting out a long, and loud groan.

"I could go again. Fuck it! Who wants to race me?" Your boyfriend’s voice pipes up from behind you. You whip your head around to see him jogging in place with a smile.

You let out a giggle, still breathless from the strides you had taken to keep up with his pace on your initial run into the parking lot.

"Nobody’s racing anybody, Ash," Calum huffs, stretching his legs, "We’ve gotta pack up our shit on time before they leave us here like last time."

Ashton blows a raspberry, "You’re no fun."

"I’ll race you," you shrug to him, still completely clouded with adrenaline. The running barely made a dent in the energy that was coursing through your veins.

He wraps a broad arm around your shoulder, hugging you into his side.

"You say that now, baby— but the last time I beat you in a race, you didn’t talk to me for like, a week."

"Hey," you scoff, "I had good reason! You teased me about it every time I opened my fuckin’ mouth!"

"She’s right, Ash," Luke finally pipes up from his resting place on the concrete, "you bullied the shit out of her."

"You clearly just don’t understand my comedic repertoire."

Michael and Calum laugh, each patting Ashton on the back as they walk by to step onto the tour bus. You glance over at Ash, who had been staring at Luke on the ground.

"You alright, Lu?" You ask, slithering out of your boyfriend’s grasp.

"Yeah, yeah— I’m fine. Just— give me a second." He holds his hand up in the air, almost surrendering to the cold, hard ground.

"C’mon, mate. Let’s get you on this bus. It seems like Y/N is the only one matching my energy tonight."

Ashton takes Luke’s hand, pulling him up by his torso. You watch in awe at how effortlessly your boyfriend hoists him up, the butterflies in your stomach still floating around just as they did when you first got together with him.

"Okay, I’m good now." Luke blows out a breath, adjusting his heels in his boots.

Ashton, Luke, and yourself all make your way back onto the tour bus, each with your own respective bags and belongings. By the time you had stepped on, Michael and Calum had already found their seats on one of the couches. They were browsing their phones, occasionally showing each other something and giggling at the screen.

"Got room for one more?" Luke asks, moving Calum’s spread out legs to make a seat for himself.

"There’s a whole ‘nother couch, mate," Calum huffs, so entranced by his phone that he hadn’t even looked up.

You and Ashton had made your way to the other couch in question. Your eyes find Luke’s, his find Ashton, as you each toss each other a knowing glance.

"Nah, I think I’m alright sitting here. Why, you don’t want my company?"

As the other three bicker, you and your boyfriend find a comfortable position on the couch. Your head is resting on his shoulder, his arm extended over the top of the couch and resting along the back of it. He pulls out his phone to check the time.

"It’s half past eleven and I’m fuckin’ wired." Ashton mumbles. You feel his body vibrate with the words he speaks as you rest your head onto him.

"Me too," you admit, your leg starting a cadence of bobbing up and down, "I’d usually be down for the count by now."

"Y’think it’s the adrenaline rush? I’m not sure why but— I feel like I could scale a goddamn mountain right now."

You shrug, trying to close your eyes as the bus starts to move, "Could be. But— it’s hard to believe we’re the only ones feeling it."

Ashton’s hand was gently lingering around the nape of your neck. He then started to toy with your hair, resting his head on top of yours.

Your leg had continued to bounce, still feeling as if you were about to pop off into the sky like a fucking bottle rocket.

It was only about a 20 minute drive from the venue back to the hotel, but the anticipation of getting there was absolutely killing you. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to stand sitting quietly, especially now that Ashton’s hand had traveled to your shoulder.

He twists his head, planting a kiss on your temple before whispering in your ear.

"Why’s your leg doing that?"

"Dunno’. Just energized, I guess."

Your boyfriend nods in understanding. "Isn’t being on this bus right now just the worst?"

"Don’t remind me," you say, as Ashton is removing his arm from the back of the couch.

He puts his arm back at his side, yet his hand finds your leg like a magnet. His fingertips creep towards your inner thigh, your leg still bouncing impatiently.

"Really wish we were back at the hotel…" He then dips down slowly to be level with your ear.

"…’Wanna put all this energy to good use, no?"

His words send a shock wave down your spine, similar to the ones that had been coursing through you all night long. You knew exactly where his head was at, but whether or not you wanted to acknowledge it while the rest of the band was three feet away from you was a battle you did not want to fight right now.

"Ash, knock it off," you whisper sternly, pressing your hand down on his in order to keep it from inching any closer to its’ destination.

"They’re not even paying attention. Look at ‘em." He gestures towards the boys on the couch, all either buried in their phones, or passed the fuck out.

"Still— If they saw anything I’d fucking kill myself."

Ashton’s tongue juts out to wet his bottom lip, now looking at you as if you were a dessert waiting to be devoured. You roll your eyes, trying your best to seem unbothered by his gaze.

"Fine."

The rest of the trip was uneventful. Ashton would occasionally squeeze your thigh, or his knee would knock against yours when Calum let out a particularly loud snore. You had finally made it back to your hotel, and were filing out one by one from the tour bus

"It’s amazing how you fast you can fall asleep," You hear Michael poke fun at Cal, who had been yawning and stretching as if he had gotten a full night’s sleep.

"The art of the power nap, my friend."

"Even after all these years, you still snore like an animal," you giggle, reminiscing on the many nights you’d spent on the road together.

As Calum opens his mouth to retaliate, Luke is stepping out of the tour bus and joining the conversation.

"Everyone has their shit, right?" he asks, hoisting his bag over his shoulder.

"Yup."

"Mhmm."

"Yes sir."

"Good. Now get out of my sight. All of you. Don’t wanna see your faces ‘till tomorrow morning a nine." Luke teases, wagging his finger at the rest of you.

You each gave hugs and said your goodnights, all while Ashton was glued to your hip. His body radiated off an aura that you couldn’t quite put your finger on— you didn’t know if it was just the energy, or the fact that the tension between you two was thick enough to cut with a pair of scissors.

But you knew full and well that you were feeling it too.

"That was the longest bus ride of my fuckin’ life," Ashton huffs, fumbling in his pants pocket for the keycard to your suite.

"I know— I feel like I should be tired," you shrug, "I probably won’t be able to sleep for a while though."

As Ashton pushes open the door to your shared hotel room, he tosses you a smirk over his shoulder. You blush, adjusting your bag strap and trying not to make too much of a face.

"We should stay up all night."

"Do you really think that’s the best idea?" Now, his eyes were wide and glassy. Your boyfriend’s energy had skyrocketed at an alarmingly fast rate.

"No, not at all. But— I think it would be fun, don’t you?"

The thought of staying up all night made you tired in itself, but you couldn’t push past the adrenaline still rolling through your veins.

You think for a moment, mulling over the pros and cons.

It’s already after midnight. Call time for tomorrow was at 9am. What’s 8 and a half more hours gonna change?

"It would be fun… But what would we do for that long?" You drop your bags on the carpet with a sigh.

"I could think of a thing or two," says Ashton, wiggling his eyebrows. He rifles through his bag on the floor for a moment, while you flop down on the king sized mattress.

"Like what? ‘Cause I’m not about to just sit here and stare at you."

"I don’t see a problem with looking at your gorgeous face for eight hours straight," Ashton chuckles, "but that wouldn’t be realistic…"

He digs down into one of the pockets of his backpack, pulling out a small rolling tray, a pack of papers, and a jar of bud.

"…So how about I roll up and we see where it takes us?"

You can’t help but bite your lip at the thought of Ashton rolling up for you. He always gave you the princess treatment when it came to smoking, and tonight was no different.

"I’m down for that." You hum, shifting yourself up on the bed and resting your arms on the pillows.

"Perfect. It’s settled then."

You watch with patient eyes as your boyfriend stands with his belongings. A rolling tray, papers, and a grinder in one hand, the bud, and a pack of filters in the other. His gaze drops down your body, landing on your torso.

Without a word, he finds his way onto the bed on his knees, a sly smile sprawling across his cheeks as he moves around you slowly.

"Whatcha’ doin’, baby?" You ask innocently.

"Nothin’."

His timid reply made your stomach flip, not long before he’s reaching his leg over your body to straddle you. He rests himself gently onto your thighs, putting his rolling supplies down at your side.

"Gonna roll up now, mkay?" He finds your approval with his eyes, as he slowly starts to dip his body down to lay flat onto you. Confused, you lift your brow, but you’re immediately shut up when he starts tugging at the hemline of your shirt.

"Ash, what—"

"Shhhh," he whispers, before pulling up the spandex material of your stage shirt and leaving a gentle kiss on your belly.

Your heart flutters at his simple gesture, just watching in awe as he starts to lay out his rolling supplies on your stomach. You were still very confused, yet you didn’t have the heart to question him.

Now with a rolling tray, papers, and a grinder all splayed across your body, Ashton starts his routine. He takes out a nug from the jar, popping it into the grinder and using his elbows to keep himself hovered over your body.

"What am I, a table?" You giggle, the movement of your stomach causing the rolling tray and other things to move around.

"Your giggling is fuckin’ up my work station, baby. Try to hold still f’me."

You clamp your giggly mouth shut with a straight face, still oddly amused by this strange scenario. Ashton had never used you as a rolling tray before, so pardon you for seeming weird about it.

Once he was done grinding up the weed, he grabbed a filter, all while balancing himself over your body. He made his next moves tediously, laying out a paper flat onto his tray and sprinkling the plant onto it.

Your first instinct was to hold your breath, but something about his face of concentration was making you want to bust out laughing. He’d occasionally glance up at you, those green, honeypot eyes tossing you warning stares.

"Almost done—" He says, now folding up the corners of the paper and actually starting to roll it.

What you loved most about watching Ashton roll was the pure concentration that overcame him, every single time. His eyes would go narrow, his tongue poking out slightly between his lips. It took everything inside of you not to sit up and start showering his face in kisses, but you held back.

For the sake of the joint.

"She’s a beauty," you say, watching Ashton tongue the rolling paper and leaving you with nothing but intrusive, sinful thoughts.

"Mhmmm," Ashton hums in return, before giving the paper one more lick. He twists up the end, finally getting to admire his handiwork.

"Your belly makes one hell of a rolling tray, baby— might have to try rolling up your tits next."

"Yeah, right. Good luck with that one."

You both laugh as Ashton starts to remove his supplies off of you, haphazardly tossing them to the side.

He then pops the joint into the corner of his mouth, and uses his fists to crawl up to you. He stops at eye level, fully straddling you with the jay between his lips and a devilish gleam in his eye.

"What are you looking at?" You ask, already knowing the answer.

"You." He mumbles through the side of his mouth, the joint stuck to his bottom lip,

"Yeah, no shit," you laugh, "But why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like there’s something on your mind."

He cocks his head, "Well, there is this one thing…"

Feeling daring, you pluck the joint from between his lips, taking it between your fingers.

"If ya’ tell me what it is, I’ll let you take the first hit."

"Psh," he scoffs, "like I wasn’t gonna do that anyway."

A bout of confidence rolls down your body, absolutely entranced by your boyfriend’s floppy black curls. He looked absolutely ravishing. The gaze in his eye flicking from innocent to lust fueled, just with a blink.

And if there’s one thing you always knew, it was exactly what he wanted.

"You fuckin’ wish… Tell me what’s on your mind, pretty boy."

Your nickname for him made him close his eyes, taking in a deep breath as you ran the back of your hand along his cheekbone.

The joint was still dangling between your fingertips, but you were debating putting it down after the way he had sighed.

"You always know how to get me, don’t you?" His voice was quiet, and sultry.

"Contrary to popular belief, Ash, I know a lot about you. Enough to know what you’re thinking about."

"You’re such a fuckin’ tease," he grumbles.

"Hey, you started it. Just trying to match that energy from before, y’know?"

"Trust me, it’s still here, darlin’. It never left."

Your mouth pulls to the side, watching his eyes flick between your lips and your chest.

"Oh, really?… You catch your bottom lip with your teeth.

"…Prove it."

In a flash, Ashton is flipping you over, bringing your hips to straddle his waist with your calves digging deeply into the hotel mattress. The action practically knocks the wind out of you, all with the joint still dangling between your fingertips. But you used Ashton’s broad chest as leverage for your palms, so you didn’t fall.

"I’ve got the time to prove it… and a lighter."

Ashton reaches over to the bedside table, practically knocking everything off of it as he reaches for his black Zippo. It was like a piece of him— never leaving his sight for more than a few minutes.

And on the rare occasion in which it wasn’t on him, it could be found right in your back pocket.

"Well then, if you insist— light me up, baby."

You place the joint between your lips, making a sly effort to dig your hips downward and grind into his crotch. A shaky hand approaches you, the heart shaped ink on his wrist reaching out to you with a burning flame.

He toasts the end of the joint as you inhale, the crackling, earthy feeling funneling down your throat while you take the first pull. Those golden fern eyes surveyed your every move; from the inhale, to the exhale.

"Y’look so pretty smokin’ my weed."

"Do I?" You hum, now feeling his hands as they palm at your thighs.

"Mhm."

Your cheeks flush pink, going in for another hit of the joint as Ashton just watches you; like he was in some sort of trance.

But as the smoke travelled down into your lungs and left you feeling a bit fuzzy, something inside of you perks up. A yearning to be in control; to tell Ashton whatever perfectly fucked up words were left in that adrenaline-doused brain of yours.

"You look even prettier under me."

His eyes flutter closed, and you’re left with a cheeky, prideful smile.

You loved getting under Ashton’s skin, more than anything. Calling him pretty, pretty boy; it was like a drug to you. You craved the rush that came with the change in his demeanor. It was something he tried to deny enjoying—

Yet he always came back for more.

Without another word, you pass the joint to him, placing it between his plump lips and allowing him to take his first pull. He sighs to himself, still clawing at your pants like he would strike gold by digging his fingers into them.

"Fuck— that’s great."

"Isn’t it? She's a beauty."

"Mhmm… tastes nice."

The residual smoke clouds the air above you, as you continue to pass the joint back and forth between your lips and his.

It wasn’t long before you started feeling high; and the same went for Ashton. You shared glances through heavy, bloodshot eyes, completely entranced by one another.

"Told you this was a good way to pass time," says Ashton, whose hands had become a bit more fidgety down at your sides.

The fog in your mind was clouding your senses. It had come to a point where you felt like your voice wasn’t working— you’d open your mouth, but nothing would come out. Just a puff of air, or a soft little whimper as Ashton’s hands danced around your calves.

"Baby?" He asks you, shifting his hips beneath you with a twinkle in his eye, "You okay?"

You wanted to reply, but you were too mellowed out to even utter a word. Shooting him a soft smile, you toss your head back, and run your hands down your chest.

"I’ll take that as a yes."

Ashton was an avid smoker. You, not so much. But on the off chance he was willing to roll and smoke you up, it was very rarely that you’d say no. Ash loved to smoke with you, you loved to smoke with Ash.

It was a match made in heaven.

"Whatdaya’ think the guys are doing right now?" Ashton always blurts whatever the fuck is on his mind. High, or not.

"Mmmh, I’m not sure… Probably sleeping." It took you a minute to gain the moisture back in your throat in order to reply.

"Fuckin’ losers. They don’t know what they’re missing. I wonder if any of ‘em are staying up late…"

You can’t help but let a dreamy sigh fall past your lips, before leaning over to put out the joint over your shared bedside ashtray.

"I don’t know much about them, but I know about me n’ you."

While Ashton’s hands are dead-bolted to your waist, yours roam his torso, toying with the black button-down he had slipped on after leaving stage. You fumble with the buttons, mess with the collar, all with your bottom lip stuck between your teeth.

"Can I help you?" Ashton sighs, rather sarcastically, starting his own trail of greedy fingertips.

"You know what I want."

"I'm not sure I do, my girl. Need you to be more specific..."

"Don't play dumb, pretty boy," your hands find the first button of his shirt, "I want you."

It isn't long before all of Ashton's buttons are undone and your lips are leaving a trail of sloppy kisses, making headway towards the buckle of his jeans. He whines beneath you, hands wandering along the motions of you as you shift down his body.

"Fuck me, you're an angel," he sighs dreamily, but you just smile between kisses, already feeling the wetness pooling in your lower half.

"Am I?"

"Mhmm, heaven told me so."

With his words, you shoot up to his eye level, giving him a good stare down before slamming your lips onto his. He melts into the kiss, as do you, still writhing beneath you for any inch of release.

His tongue explores your mouth, searching for something sweeter than the feeling of his own stoned mind. Your hands caress his face; his cheeks feeling much softer than usual.

"Oh, Ashton—" You whine, not long before his teeth are sinking viciously into your bottom lip.

A hiss falls past your teeth, his blistered palms gripping your exposed sides for dear life and pushing you down onto his growing erection.

His direction of kisses starts to lead towards your jaw— then your neck, then your chest.

"Want me that badly, hmm?" You coo to him, somewhat condescendingly. All he can do is hum beneath you, absolutely mesmerized by the taste of your skin.

"You know I fuckin' do."

As he works his way back up your throat, he leaves hickies in his trails. Also known as, a story to tell the band tomorrow.

"Hey, Dracula— knock it off. We've got a show tomorrow." You giggle, as Ashton pops his head up with wide eyes. He still looks entranced by you. Could’ve been the weed, but you swore you could see little cartoon hearts bursting within his irises.

"You’re right, you’re right—"

Ashton begins to toy with the hemline of your skirt, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as he practically undresses you with his eyes.

"Want this off?" You ask, motioning towards the article of clothing in question.

He thinks for a moment, rolling his mouth inward on itself and seemingly picturing the whole ordeal before it’s even began.

"Nuh uh. Keep it on— I like it."

"Can’t really argue with that," You shrug casually, as if being high and now horny wasn’t already causing the both of you enough grief.

Ashton clears his throat, grabbing your attention away from his wandering fingertips.

"Hey, wanna try somethin’?" he mumbles, his tone a bit whiny. Needy.

"Hm?"

"Want you to ride my face."

Your eyes widen, face flushing of color as your mindless hip rocking comes to a slow. You can barely compute what he had just asked of you, let alone find enough saliva in your throat to reply.

"Wh—"

"You don’t have to— If ya don’t wanna. Just thought it’d be fun, y’know, since we’re lookin’ for ways to pass time."

You chuckle lowly, regaining your confidence as you watch his eyes shimmer just from looking at you.

"Baby, I don’t think that’d pass much time," you sigh, stomach lurching at merely the thought of it.

A smile spreads across Ashton’s cheeks, "Why not? Don’t want me to tease you with my tongue ‘till you can’t take it anymore? I’d say I could get a good thirty minutes out of that."

"That— that’s unfair!" You screech, the butterflies in your stomach dancing along and making you shiver.

"Don’t think so. Especially since you hogged the joint. Smoked all my fuckin’ weed. I’d say we’re equal."

"Kiss my ass, Irwin." you bite back.

"God, I’d love to."

You and Ash have tried a lot of things as a couple, but this opened a completely new door. At this rate, as late as it was, you were willing to do just about anything to get your hands on your pretty boy.

"Y’know what? Fine… Let’s fuckin’ do it."

You finally give him the reply he’d been waiting for. His eyes practically shoot out of his head when he hears it.

"Really?"

"Mhmm."

Ashton tosses his head back into the plush pillows, running his hands up your waist and finding himself beneath your spandex shirt, "Gonna' make a meal outta you, baby. Promise it'll be worth it."

With his words, you're dipping back down to kiss him, feeling his hips eagerly bucking up into yours and revealing just how hard he was beneath his jeans.

"Need you," he whispers into your lips, "please. Soon?"

His incoherent babbling was already telling you everything you needed to know, his breathing picking up with the slight feeling of release he was getting by feeling you through the confines of fabric.

"Sit tight, pretty baby. Let me get situated." You part from his lips, planting one last kiss on his cheek before you're de-straddling yourself from his hips.

Your eyes zone in on his, reaching beneath your skirt to meticulously dance your way out of your lacy panties, as per his request for your skirt to stay on.

He watches through hooded eyes, discreetly moving his hand to palm himself through his jeans. You catch him out of the corner of your eye, as you partially undress yourself.

"Slow down, tiger. Save some for me."

"You're not making it any easier, ya’ tease." He grumbles, the corners of his mouth coming to a catty point.

You decided that a strip tease was enough, already feeling bad for making him wait this long. A nervous swirl settles in your stomach; having never done this before, you weren't sure what to expect.

But you knew that whatever was about to happen, Ashton would make it worth wild.

"C'mere," Ashton calls to you with two fingers, and you oblige, straddling his lap once again as his hands find you like a magnet.

"Where do you want me?"

"On my face."

You scoff, "Well duh, Ash."

"I'm serious. Don't know if I can go another fuckin' minute without your thighs as my earmuffs. Get up here. Now."

"Yes sir," you joke, shifting upward on his body. Your bare core was hovering over his chest, and he was practically drooling at the sight of you.

He gives you a quick asking glance, eyes wide and glassy as they had been since the second you two stepped off of the tour bus. You could tell how elated he was merely from the size of his pupils.

"Ready?" He asks gently, noticing you lingering.

"Think so." You suck in a deep breath, finding comfort in your boyfriend's eyes.

"Gonna start nice and slow. Nothin' to worry about." He runs a hand up your thigh, pushing up your skirt and exposing your body to him a little more.

"What makes you think I'm worried?" you quip.

"I can just see it in your eyes, baby."

The room did feel like it was spinning, but you were more bashful than nervous. But you could tell that Ashton didn’t care about the semantics of it all.

He just wanted to taste you.

After taking a moment to regain your confidence, you raise your hips. Ashton shifts down below you, peeking under your skirt at the mess you’ve already made of yourself.

"So wet, already? Damn Y/N, I’ve barely even touched you yet."

"You talk a big game for a man who practically melts when I call him pretty."

Ashton rolls his eyes, "Less talking, more ‘sit on my fuckin’ face, please’."

His hands cradle the backs of your thighs, which makes you sigh. You loved the feeling of his weathered palms; and how tenderly they scraped against your skin. Being high was only furthering that euphoria, enough to distract you from how antsy you were.

You finally let yourself lower onto his face, immediately feeling his nose nudging against your clit.

"Shit—" you hiss, for Ashton wastes no time in licking a healthy stripe up your slit.

Your muscles start to relax as his tongue moves within you, paying attention to your sounds and the jolts of your hips. He braces himself on your thighs, as you look down to see his face engulfed by your flesh and the fabric of your skirt.

"Can— can I watch?" You ask through shaky breaths, only for Ashton to knock his nose against your clit once again and release a moan from the back of your throat.

When he hums in response, a course of electricity shocks your veins. You knew that meant he was saying yes, but the feeling of him vibrating against your core brought your heart rate to double.

You start to rock your hips slowly, feeding into the motions of his tongue chipping away at you. You reach your hands down to lift your skirt, only to reveal two bright green eyes staring back at you between your thighs.

The sight of him beneath you, so eager to please you, could’ve had you cumming right on the spot. But you were enjoying this far too much to let it end right now.

"Ash, oh my god—" You whimper, the combination of his pleading eyes and nimble tongue having you doubled over in ecstasy.

You’re too busy staring down at him to notice how he’d closed his eyes and started to move faster. The speed at which his tongue was lapping against you brought your hands to fly to your chest. You started to pinch your own nipples above your shirt, but Ash was quick to notice.

His arm shoots up to knock against yours, moving it out of the way so that he could get his greedy hands on your tits.

"Fuck— please, please," you beg, although you weren’t really sure what you were begging for. It was taking everything in your power to hold off on your orgasm and enjoy this for as long as possible.

You look down at his face again to see the tip of his nose glittering with your arousal, sweaty black curls stuck, and rearranged to his forehead.

You can’t help but smile, letting out a few more whines and whimpers as you grind your hips. He was still toying with your nipple, but made the executive decision to slide his hand beneath your shirt.

He pinches your nipple between his fingers, receiving pleasure merely from the sounds slipping past your lips. Your entire body felt like it was set ablaze, your core warm and fuzzy from the weed and attention you were receiving from your boyfriend’s tongue.

"Ash, please—" You plead again, as Ashton’s hand switches to massaging your entire breast, still working up into you and lapping at your clit from time to time. "—Gonna cum’ soon."

A muffled groan could be heard from beneath you, sending a course of electricity through your veins. He was letting you know that he heard you loud and clear, but he wasn’t quite ready to give in just yet.

When the feeling of your impending orgasm gets to be too much, you start to panic.

"Wait— I—"

Without thinking, you lift yourself off of his face, instantly whining at the loss of contact from his mouth and the feeling of accidentally edging yourself.

“Baby, my God," he sighs, breathlessly, “don’t stop. Need— need you t’ cum on my face.”

His cheeks are slick with your arousal, lips glistening as he darts his tongue out to clean some of it off.

"Are you sure?" You mumble in return, still slightly dizzy from the whirlpool happening in your lower half. But Ashton then anchors his hands on your waist, giving your flesh a gentle, pleading squeeze.

"Yes please, baby. Fuckin’ soak me. Let me taste you while you cum for me."

He’s nodding frantically, reciprocating that energy of never wanting this moment to end.

"Ashton, I--"

"Keep saying my name, darlin'. Sounds so fuckin' hot comin' out of your mouth."

You can’t shake the feeling of your orgasm being on the brink for any longer, so you waste no time. His heavy breathing and bloodshot eyes has your stomach in knots.

You re-mount his face, starting your rhythm of rocking hips once more in time with his tongue.

That wave of bliss hits you again, picking up right where you had left off. You’re whining and groaning, still feeling his fingertips digging into you and holding you stable.

"Oh, Ashton."

He groans beneath you at the angelic sound of his name rolling off of your tongue. For extra stability while you grind into him, your grasp flies to the headboard, holding on tightly as you ride out your high.

"I’m so close, Ash… keep— keep going… fuck!"

Your body was shifting into overdrive, your head tossing back to let out a guttural whine from your chest.

”I’m— I’m cumming… Fuck, Ashton!"

The knot in your stomach finally snaps, sending a wave of chills rumbling down your limbs and practically taking the headboard off of the wall with the sheer force of your orgasm.

You whine as the sensation rolls out, gradually slowing down your rhythmic hips above your boyfriend, who was as stiff as a board.

"Ashton, holy fucking shit," you giggle, letting out a long sigh. But he was unresponsive. You look down between your thighs again at those glowing fern eyes, pupils large and wavering.

"You good, pretty boy?" You move to sit on his chest, his head resting between your knees and revealing that slicked face for a second time. His shocked, lust-fueled expression morphs into a wicked smile, before he runs his hands up and down the tops of your thighs.

"You're fuckin' crazy."

You shrug, "What can I say? You bring out the best in me."

He laughs again, taking a moment to breathe and run a hand through his sweaty charcoal curls.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N," he breathes, still admiring your body as if he hadn't just sent it into shock.

"What? You asked for it."

"Honestly, I could go again."

"I know we've got time but let's not get too ahead of ourselves," you tut, taking a hand to grab his cheeks, still between your legs, "A warm bath would definitely be nice, though. I'm still a kinda high."

He nods, "I could do that, yea... But the question is whether or not that tub is big enough for the both of us."

"Who said you were invited?" you joke.

"After what just happened on my face? Baby, I think ya' owe me one."

Your head was still a tad foggy so naturally, you found yourself giggling at everything coming out of your boyfriend's mouth. He smiles up at you warmly, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip.

"Hey, what time is it anyway?"

"Not too late for you to run me a bath, if that's what you're implying."

He scoffs, using his broad hands to shift you down onto his lap so that he could sit upright.

"It's never too late for a bath, darlin'. I just wanted to know if I killed some time." He turns his head to glance over at the alarm clock on the bedside table, as do you.

"1:30." You say in unison.

"And only..." he looks at his wrist, acting as if he has on a watch, "...seven and a half more hours 'till call time."

Both you and Ashton laugh, while he's still tracing little heart patterns along your legs. "What if we took a seven and a half hour bath?" You suggest, feeding off of his teasing energy.

"We'd come out looking like fuckin' prunes."

"I'd say it's worth it...if it meant seven and a half more hours with you."

He moves his wandering hands to cup your face, cocking his head subtly to the side. You felt the sparks practically flying off of his fingertips as he looks at you with a beaming grin.

"Seven and a half hours doesn't mean a thing. We've got all the time in the goddamn world."

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

#ashton irwin #ashton irwin smut #5sos #5sos fanfic #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton 5sos #soupster requests

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chaotic--nat · 1 year

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Can I have Ian Malcolm x reader where they both stay awake with each other after nightmares and fluff smut ensues,?

Ian Malcolm x Reader !

content: smut, fem!reader, fuck idk Ian body worship era, og jurassic park Ian, scientist reader, implied relationship

small summary: you and Ian had an eventful night after he gave you an on-hands demonstration of chaos theory

word count: 504

You and Ian were both respected scientists and as you worked together on numerous experiments, an all nighter in either one’s lab was destined to happen; luckily you were prepared with blankets, coffee, and various snacks! You enjoyed working with Ian because he always managed to keep you on your feet, his charming ways always had you surprised..especially this evening! Although you were an experimental psychologist and Ian was a chaos theorist, your work with him always made sense, which is why you're currently struggling to find the words to explain what predicament you're in, maybe he just left you speechless..

It all started with you sitting beside Ian as he showed you how chaos theory worked with water, his coarse hands delicately held yours as he poured the water in your hand. You did your best to pay attention as his hands played with yours, his hands were so gentle as he guided yours to make the water move around. As he moved your hand around, you couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of his fingers just making you a mess.. just the thought of Ian pleasing you and fucking you just with his fingers made you needy.. you weren’t sure if your fantasies were obvious but you were sure snapped back into reality from your dirty thoughts when Ian dried your hand up!

As he did, he couldn’t help but ask “Did I lose you there? You started turnin’ all glass eyed.” He let out a small chuckle and you quickly nodded and laughed “yes I'm okay! I just had a few thoughts..for our next..experiment-! Though it’s a rather embarrassing idea” Ian couldn’t help but look at you with such an intrigued facial expression,, his face, his lovely, handsome face. His eyes were beautiful, you could stare and melt into them almost instantly! He leaned forward with a small chuckle to give you a quick peck on the lips “please, enlighten me dear. I'm sure it’s not embarrassing.” You couldn’t find a way to bring yourself to tell him that such a small thing gave you such a horny idea!

He could tell by the way your cheeks flushed that there was no way in hell you were going to say anything.. Within an instant, Ian leaned forward and gently kissed your cheek, as he pulled away with a smirk he stated “if you’re so interested in something being studied, then my god, give me the opportunity..to study every inch of your body..” before you could process his question,, well statement, he had already pulled you into a sloppy kiss. You couldn’t help but whine as his movements, only encouraging him more to fuck you right this moment. Ian grabs you by your waist and sets you down on a nearby table and he instantly wipes the table clean, your brain was getting fuzzy already so all you could do was giggle..I think Ian enjoyed that too much, making your pretty little head go all fuzzy…!

author’s note: lmfao this took me too long to post, my wife helped me write this, I'll probably continue it later 💃🏻

#jurassic park #ian malcolm #dr ian malcolm #ian malcolm x reader

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bellascarousel · 6 months

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Okay! So, my writing goals for 2024 (dear fucking Gods, how is it almost 2024 already?) is to get my damn Urban Fantasy revised, and to write and revise at least one of the Romance novels I've got percolating. 2024 is gonna be the year I become a published author, dammit! Anyway... to that end, I'm gonna ask you guys to help my ADHD addled brain pick a writing project to actually fucking stick to. So, first up, some brief rundowns of the stories I have the best handle on and can see myself actually finishing, if I would just stop letting myself get distracted and wander off to start something new:

Married At First Sight - A Regency-era arranged marriage. Andrea Sinclair is a spinster whose father is dying. Worried about what will happen to her when he's gone, he decides she NEEDS to marry this season. And he's willing to take matters into his own hands, if need be. Matthew Beaumont is the second son of a marquess. His father needs him to marry because his older brother's wife is dying without providing an heir, and with Sarah and James having been a love match, odds are against James being willing to remarry. Lord Beaumont and Mr. Sinclair decide to marry off their two problem children to each other. Andrea and Matthew like each other well enough, but there's a problem. Andrea agrees because she WOULD like to have children and she needs a husband for that. Meanwhile, after watching both his mother and his mistress die in childbirth (the mistress was birthing his daughter, so he feels responsible), and his beloved sister-in-law spend years wasting away from some illness that seemed to have been caused by the birth of her daughter, Matthew has taken a personal vow of celibacy because he can't bear the thought of being responsible for another woman's death. Obviously, their main conflict is going to be between Andrea's desire for children and Matthew's utter refusal to risk it. (I am NOT going the Simon and Daphne route with this. Matthew will not become the pull-out king, he's gonna stick to his vow of celibacy - which just causes further issues cause it plays into Andrea's insecurities. And Andrea is not going to try to... ahem... force the issue. I have plans for this that I think will be interesting.) It's going to be the first in a trilogy. I have plans for Matthew's younger sister Kitty, and also to give James a second chance at love.

You're Still The One - a Regency-era second chance romance. Four years ago, Evelyn and Lucas fell in love. But, her stepfather intended to marry her to an associate of his, using her dowry to pay off a gambling debt. Evelyn takes one night for herself and sleeps with Lucas before running away. Four years later, Lucas has a bad riding accident and in his moments of semi-lucidity the only coherent thing he can say is Evelyn's name. So, his older brother tracks her down. When he finds her, he also discovers that she has had Lucas's baby. He drags them both back to London. When Lucas finally actually wakes up and finds out about their child - and about the fact that her stepfather and fiance are still looking for her - he realizes the only way to protect them is to marry her. Of course he kind of hates her for what she did, and never mind her reasons.

His Brother's Wife - a contemporary enemies to lovers romance. Ethan Sullivan hasn't seen his twin brother Connor in almost twenty years - not since they got into a drunken fistfight at their mother's funeral. In that time, Ethan married a friend to give her medical insurance (and some modicum of respectability in her parents' eyes) when her FWB got her pregnant and then left her, he has since been widowed and is raising his stepdaughter alone - though only the two of them know that he's not her father. Meanwhile, Connor had a drunken one night stand that resulted in pregnancy. He married Lydia, also for the insurance. They are raising their daughter together, but have an open marriage. Ethan and Connor are forced back into each others' lives when their father dies, and his will stipulates that in order to inherit anything, his sons have to live together in the family home for a year. So, the five of them all end up living together. Ethan and Lydia slowly fall in love. But, it's all complicated by Heather's biodad coming back into the picture and suddenly wanting custody.

So, I'm putting up a poll. Which of these stories would you most be interested in spending a good chunk of 2024 reading my writing progress updates about?

#bella talks writing #writeblr #married at first sight #you're still the one #his brother's wife

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dizzyduck44 · 2 years

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All Is Not Well At Alpine

So I think it’s time we talk about the French Elephant in the paddock. Alpine/Renault

It can no longer be ignored. Something is terminally wrong at that team and has been for a while.

I’m old enough to remember the Renault team the first time round and their questionable antics, however either rightly or wrongly I have always laid the blame for that era at the feet of Flávio Briatore. However the writing has been on the wall since 2016 and finally we are out of excuses.

Let’s start with the revolving drivers. Palmer, then Sainz, then Hulkenberg, then Ricciardo, then Ocon, now Alonso and Piastri. If you have been a fan of any of those drivers you will probably feel that the team treated them poorly, threw them off at the first opportunity, or if a “better” option appeared. Netflix caught it perfectly, the toxic production line the team had going. And how many times have we excused them for it, “oh he’s under performing” “well of course you would take that driver if he became available”. It still breaks my heart thinking of Carlos being binned off and just looking broken having given up his Red Bull ties for Renault to be booted out a year later. They were literally playing God with people’s F1 career.

As an engine supplier. The split with Red Bull was messy and public. The signing of Daniel Ricciardo felt more like a middle finger to Christian Horner than actually looking to Daniel’s best interests. Isn’t that evident that after a single year, he was on his way out of there through choice? I remember Paul Di Resta saying in 2020, “when Daniel leaves the team I hope he tells you what he’s done for that team, because it’s unbelievable”. As far as I know, we never found out.

Then the partnership with McLaren. Everyone seems to place the switch to Mercedes engines with Seidl, but as I recall at the time, with McLaren beating them in the championship engines had started to be a little slow in delivery or mid season, amazingly, couldn’t be saved or fixed for the papaya team meaning grid penalties. Again we all smiled and chalked it up to gamesmanship.

To sabotage your competitors is one thing but then we discover that Esteban has mechanics he really doesn’t get along with. Now each to their own on Esteban as a character, I’m not going to tell you what to think*, but to sabotage your own driver in such a way. I can’t think of a single reason why you would do that.

Then 2021, the big money star driver is off to your rival and then out of nowhere bye bye Cyril. That was probably the first WTF are they playing at moment.

Let’s talk the young drivers academy. They had collected a wealth of young drivers into their academy to fight for an F1 seat. To date, have they placed any one other than Romain Grosjean? Zhou left and went to Alfa as there was no way in, Lundgaard went to Indy same reason, Piastri has walked away from them now. If you look at what happened with Max Fewtrell, what as an academy did they do to support their drivers following the death of Hubert? I think at this point the Alpine Academy is a failure and a huge waste of money. At least Red Bull and McLaren have their juniors and “finds” dominating the grid. Even Ferrari legitimately have placed 2 drivers. It kind of breaks my heart that is where Abi Pulling is, as I think she is young enough and talented enough to punch through, but sadly is at the wrong team.

Then we need to discuss Alain Prost. Not only to leave the team, but do so with such scathing criticism of the organisation. Alain is respected up and down the paddock and if there was any doubts left something was very wrong, this was the tipping point.

So then we arrive at what has transpired over the last two months. Alonso saying that the threat of Oscar taking his seat was constantly being used, Oscar believing there was no seat for him. I don’t think he’s even got to do the two FP1s he was promised.

Don’t get me wrong, I have never been Fernando’s biggest fan. The damage he did at McLaren in 2007 and then the unnecessary public outbursts during 2017 are still raw, but he is clearly one of the top 3 drivers in the sport at the moment with Lewis and Max. Charles, George, Lando they can’t cope with him yet. So why make him think his seat was ever in doubt? Open the cheque book and ask how much for how long. It’s not hard!

Then to allow Otmar to go out there (and I honestly believe he believed what the team told him) and belittle Oscar’s integrity, for us then to find out Alpine had no legally binding contract with Oscar at all, has to be the final nail in the coffin.

There are no more excuses. This is a team that has been free falling for a while. They treat everyone connected to them appallingly and when you step back and look at it, people have been fleeing that team for a number of years now. Including press officers!

As much as I want Gasly to get a real shot outside the Red Bull programme, if I were a fan of his I’d be screaming “no, don’t do it” every time a move to Alpine is mentioned. I really don’t want Daniel to go back there. The fact he paused for so long before saying yes he would go back speaks volumes.

I’m sorry Alpine. No more free passes, no more excuses. We see you for what you are.

*For the record, I personally have no issues whatsoever with Esteban.

#alpine #alpine f1 #renault f1 #fernando alonso #oscar piastri #carlos sainz junior #carlos sainz jr #nico hulkenberg #daniel ricciardo #esteban ocon #f1 #formula one #f1blr #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #sorrybeenthinkingaboutthisawhile

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strangeswift · 2 years

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hey girlie! what are ur head canons for the party as adults?

!!! Okay last time I did college ones so I'm gonna do just after graduating college.

Lucas and Max move to California. They live by the ocean. Max teaches Lucas to surf. She's not amazing at it, but she can at least stand up on the board. But after they practice, she quickly improves, as does Lucas. He will never stop saying "toootally tuuuubular" every time he catches a wave though, and sometimes he wipes out because he's looking at Max to see if he made her laugh.

El lives in NYC with Mike and Will and they're roommates!! They have a small 2 bedroom 2 bath. They have a cat. She's El's cat but they all take care of her. Mike pretends not to like the cat but he lets her sit on his lap while he's writing and absentmindedly pets her.

Will and Mike have the starving artist/writer thing going for a while but they both eventually make it. But their starving artist era breeds some good memories.

El is still in her lesbian heartbreaker era (she respects women and is sensitive to her feelings it's not her fault they keep falling in love with her when she's trying to keep it casual 🤷‍♀️) and she has a new girlfriend like once a month. Mike finds this hilarious and encourages it, while Will is a little concerned that she should probably be finding someone to "settle down with" but El tells him not everyone has to he whipped like him. Then Mike laughs at Will until El tells Mike he is even more whipped than Will.

Dustin and Suzie sort of elope because her parents don't approve of her dating much less marrying a non-mormon. They crash with Eden and Argyle?? until they get the funds for their own place. And yes, they still call each other Dusty Bun and Suzie Poo. All of the party is at their wedding, and the party surprises them by serenading them with Never Ending Story during the reception.

#silly headcanons #asks #byler #lumax #lesbian el hopper #duzie

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avelera · 1 year

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🌟

Hmm, so since this basically a "blank space" for the fanfiction writer meme around what we want to talk about, I think I'll use it for a question to dicuss the differences between Giving Sanctuary and "Come live with me", as I see them.

Both stories are quite domestic in their way. They both revolve around different variations on Dream and Hob being married, living in a house together, and sharing something adjacent to a normal human life together.

Now, there's some pretty big variations based on one taking place in their 1689 era and the other taking place in their 1789 era (well, 1818, cuz Hob needed to make some amends before I'd write a long form romance about him, of course). They approach these relationships very differently in each fic as a result of their respective premises, for example, GS Dream respects Hob from the outset but is very hesitant to broach the subject of a physical relationship. GS Dream also tells Hob about Death being the true source of his immortality right away, as part of that respect, because he can't move forward in good conscience without telling the truth about this.

In contrast, CLWM Dream jumps feet first into a physical relationship with Hob (post 1789, Dream is very aware that Hob is interested in one!) but he doesn't really respect Hob just yet, so he's much more secretive, and once he does begin to respect Hob, he's not hesitant about sex he's hesitant about telling Hob the truth about the source of his immortality, for fear of losing him.

One huge difference between these fics which is quite relevant to CLWM in the long-term, which is Dream's discussion with Death in ch. 3 of GS, when he learns that Hob is truly an immortal, not just a mortal with an artificially extended life span. That means Hob is safe if Dream does want to expand upon their relationship. CLWM Dream has not had a discussion like this yet, not one he trusts anyway, and that is indeed informing a lot of his interactions with Hob now and later in the fic.

And finally, while I do try to keep GS and CLWM clearly siloed in my head, there have been a few more references to 1689 in the last few chapters of CLWM that I've posted which could be considered bleed-through. It was, in part, because I was coming down from a pause in CLWM to write a bunch of GS. Now, CLWM and GS obviously don't take place in the same universe, but I think after jumping back into CLWM from GS I began to see a bit of a tragedy in that.

I started writing CLWM first and really intended it as like a fun, light-hearted quippy romcom, whereas GS is my heavier emotional catharsis piece, very internal with a lot of angst. But there is a brittle sort of angst lurking in the background of CLWM that I think getting to the catharsis of GS sort of brought forward for me, which is that GS didn't happen in this universe.

Dream and Hob in CWLM didn't bond over the loss of their sons. They're both carrying that pain around with them and at this point, they probably won't ever talk about it with each other with the depth and sensitivity they did in GS. The moment has passed. It's been 200+ years for Hob since he lost his family, he's moved on, insofar as one can. Likewise, Dream has further calcified into cruelty, his outer shell of ice is even dense now after another century of just sitting with his pain. He really did approach this year with Hob as something of a booty call, figuring that so long as he gave Hob the physical relationship he learned that Hob wanted back in 1789 (and that Dream wants too) that would be enough to make Hob put up with him for a year and continue to feed off the barest scraps of information Dream gave in.

Dream doesn't fully respect Hob yet in CLWM, not until after the dinner party, whereas in GS they began from the perspective of Hob having things to teach Dream about managing grief, things Dream wanted to learn from Hob and that he was humbled to realize Hob knew more about than he did. That's only sort of barely happened in CLWM, mostly Dream just realized Hob might leave him if Dream continues to be a prick, which isn't quite the same thing as seeing Hob as better than him at some things, someone worth learning from.

So CLWM is more fun, yes. It's more snarky. They're banter and jokes and domesticity and dancing and flowers and all that good stuff. But there is sort of this underlying iciness and pain that was never addressed, wounds that were never lanced, that make Hob and Dream just a little colder with each other, just a little more wearing masks around each other, just a little more focused on wit and cutting banter than on truly seeing one another and being focused on caring for one another, unlike GS, where that's the focus of what they cared about. And in a way, there's something just a little bit sad about that, for both of them.

#1689 fic #giving sanctuary #giving sanctuary bts #arranged marriage au dreamling #clwm bts #come live with me and be my love

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chthonicgodling · 4 months

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For those qs: Hypnos 2, 14 and 18!

thanks!!! this got craaazy long cause of course it did so. bbbeeehind the cut I go-

[send me a question from here with an OC from here!]

2- Did you design them with any other characters/OCs from their universe in mind?

the world Known Now as the Elysium’verse began with me messing around one million years ago specifically Maci, Seph, and Meli - then Fenixe and I met, Tory got involved, and SPIRAL. but Hypnos was actually floating around in that weird pre-Elysium era to then transition into a cameo character in the early days! (Actually Fenixe and I used to pass him back and forth before I retained custody fgkfkf). However… Hypnos was made AFTER Thanatos. oops! they were a set pair from the get-go but Hypnos came about cause like, well I couldn’t have one without the other—

so yes, his entiiiire design was born solely from selecting opposite details from his twin brother - the opposite color scheme, softe hair, angel wings. everything about Hypnos - tragically terribly - has revolved around thanatos forever….. even his character design rippp

14- If you had to narrow it down to 2 things that you MUST keep in mind while working with your OC, what would those things be?

I love this question bc as we know the Elysium’verse is RP based and so this is like my constant notes to self while cycling through characters esp when a pile of ALL MINE end up talking to each other. Hypnos, despite his important history with Maci, IS in canon mostly appearing still as side cameo character or often used for brief plot Purposes (can zap anyone to sleep)/ for comic relief (can barely get through a sentence without falling asleep). yet in the back of MY head his two defining core features anytime I’m writing him is:

number one! that Hypnos has spent more time than literally anyone else with Thanatos breathing down his neck. for thousands and thousands of years. since BIRTH. they’re TWINS. even after Than was “stopped” in the Maci Days - he just receded to Hypnos’s side like up until Thanatos was arrested WHEN NEO WAS BORN A MERE SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO, Thanatos was harassing Hypnos! Luckily for him, Hypnos is married to the goddess of anti-anxiety and like. has coped healthily with her help and guidance all things considered but it’s his defining trait for sure. Hypnos is skittish and meek and prone to cowering - this was the way to Survive his brother and because of this it’s his defining and core personality trait. (how is he more functional than Maci is literaly tho lmao)

number two, though- is that Hypnos is NICE. He’s very deliberately purposely nice, again because he grew up with Thanatos, usually literaly at his side while Thanatos bullied his way through the underworld for years and years. And there went Hypnos slinking behind him apologizing quietly and trying to pick up any pieces he could (while being too afraid to confront him - but if he could make up for Than’s intense cruelty and general… asshole personally by counteracting with niceness then!! maybe that helps!!) hypnos’s single act of wrath was secretly cursing Chal with eternal insomnia out of sheer desperation (thanatos kept hurting icy what was he supposed to do!!) and even before he knew Chal was able to be redeemed he felt guilty about it every day. But Hypnos is an opposite balance to Thanatos AND to Maci, his best friend! he’s a foil! HES A FOIL!! Calm and nice with the respective most explosive and the meanest gods spending the most time at his side dfkfkfkf

18- What is the most recent thing you’ve discovered about your OC?

idk the last time Hypnos appeared or did anything in canon lol I think back when Chal got knocked up with N and was hysterical constantly Hypnos got called to put her to sleep a few times?? )you see this is his primary role lmao). BUUUT

Hypnos’ “newest” developments came during the dionysus adventures last year since deciding that Di was Pasi’s father meant, retroactively, that Hypnos and him surely had to have to interacted. WE ALLLL SAW THAT COMIC

So this led to the revelation that Hypnos is absolutely AND TO THIS DAY completely terrified of his father in law. Does Di realize this!! I think it’s actually infinitely funnier if he has no idea but realistically he probably knows - everyone SHOULD be afraid of him, of course, cheers ;) ok no but really Di reminds him of a more unhinged thanatos which. is. aahhhhh. AAAAAAHHHHH. AAAAAAAA—

the end sorry I wrote soo Much lmao!! if u made it t the end yayay ily

#asks #oc talk #AHHHHHH #abuse cw /#Elysium essays

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tiger-moran · 2 months

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Hiiii Tiger can I ask for you to tell me more about your ideas and thoughts surrounding Kitty? I love how you write Kitty and she's so important to me. I'd love to know. Victorian or modernized interpretation or both?? (Also you're one of my favorite writers so hii) -B

Hi! You can!

I love Kitty so much and I think she needs to be used far more often in things.

For the Victorian character at least there's usually this tendency to assume Kitty is this 'fallen woman' who was basically a 'respectable' kind of woman until Gruner seduced and discarded her which is not how I tend to see her. I think in any universe Kitty is probably going to be a sex worker of some kind anyway, I mean before Gruner turns up in her life (in the modern day that's probably going to be more in the videos and online stuff line of sex work though not so much face to face physical stuff). I think also, she's not ashamed of that. And she likes sex and she likes dominating people sexually too so it would seem to her that if she can make money (and quite a lot of money probably) out of these things that she does enjoy then she'd be a fool not to do that.

I think she is young but has kind of had to grow up very quickly, so she's been very mature for her age for a long time, maybe because her family was very poor, maybe because they disowned her, and she is very self-confident, very outspoken, very tough, but she's still kind and caring; however hard her life has been that kindness and compassion has not been burnt out of her.

I think an element of Kitty's characterisation in the Granada episode where it was revealed that Gruner had injured and disfigured her has some merit - it may not be exactly like for like, what she does to him, but I think he probably did do something to her first that left her physically scarred, I really don't think Gruner is just this upper class guy who likes 'ruining pure women' by seducing them, I think he is basically the closest thing in the canon (when ACD couldn't actually be too explicit about it) to a serial killer (and I do believe completely ACD did base him on a real multiple murderer and possible serial killer), and that she disfigures him rather than trying to outright kill him does suggest that he disfigured her in some way first.

I do always love that Kitty helps bring Gruner down and helps stop him from harming another young woman even though that woman is very unpleasant, but she also has her own revenge on him with the acid. For her to commit an act like that which is so horrendous, I think he's done far more to her than just seduce her, it was something much worse than that. But she is a survivor not just his victim.

Kitty does get the most interaction with Moran in my stories and I think they are very good friends and practically consider each other family. Their relationship has been a sexual one sometimes but I think they're not romantically compatible - I think Kitty is aromantic and she doesn't want a committed partner, I think she doesn't even like sleeping with someone else, she likes sex a lot but after that she wants her own space and to not end up being tied to someone in a way that would feel stifling to her. (I also love the idea that she's one of those aromantics who gives great advice about dating and romantic relationships.)

I like the idea too that even though she's younger than he is, she acts almost like Moran's older sister sometimes and in some ways is a lot more 'street smart' than Moran is, because Moran has come from a background that was all private school, university, army, all these institutions where he was quite sheltered from 'ordinary' life, even though he has been through immense hardship himself and has rebelled against all of that a lot, he does have a sort of naïve quality to him and probably in the modern day even more than the Victorian era I think he does struggle with fitting in ordinary life. But Kitty didn't have that same privileged background and she knows a lot more about ordinary life and how to survive it and I do see her as finding Moran by accident and being the only person who takes any notice of him and realising how much distress he's in (in my story he's literally having a panic attack when she first sees him) and she helps him and looks after him and he adores her from that moment on really and they become very protective of each other.

I don't want her to be just like a 'tart with a heart' character where her decency is there to be kind of ironic because she's an """immoral""" woman. It's clear from the canon though, Kitty is not someone who is considered a 'respectable lady', but even there she is treated with respect by the major characters including Holmes. And also she has been through a lot but her vindictiveness towards Gruner is very much justified (even Watson, who seems especially horrified by what she does to Gruner, seems to think she was justified in doing it) and she is still a decent person in spite of whatever Gruner did to her, her actions aren't really portrayed as just malicious, it is definitely implied that he did something terrible to push her that far.

I do like that in the canon Holmes interacts with her and seems to like her and support her even after she throws the acid on Gruner. I always love the idea of her interacting with Moriarty too though and him being very impressed by her and liking her when Moriarty is not really a man who is easy to impress and he doesn't like many people. In my story too she's definitely suspicious of Moriarty's motives and concerned about whether Moran is safe with him and I do see her wanting to check Moriarty out herself. I do think Kitty to some degree has to do the kind of thing that Holmes does, that Moriarty too does - she has to be able to read people and read the subtle signs and clues about them, because as a young woman and as a sex worker she can be very vulnerable at times and there may be moments when her safety could depend on her reading the most subtle of signs about someone. So with Moriarty, she probably does see through him faster than even Moran does, she sees that he's not just a maths professor he is something else, something realistically much worse, but I don't think she's actually ever afraid of him (Gruner I think would frighten her, though somehow or other she does end up too heavily involved with him later and of course comes to regret that).

Also I was joking before about giving Moran a Chihuahua but I have given Kitty a Chihuahua in my story, I think she is the type to have a small feisty dog like that (but that is well trained and well behaved).

(Thank you)

#Kitty Winter #Sebastian Moran #James Moriarty #Sherlock Holmes

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woolmasterleel · 10 months

Text

Understanding the Unknown

Decided to write a little something about Pandora's first encounter with Galvarium!! Plus a bonus at the end (～￣▽￣)～ It's a little violent?? Nothing too graphic is described, but a warning just in case!

“King Romirr, this is unnecessary. I am surveying land for the new graves…”

“Nonsense, Pandora. If your work dirties your hair, I’ll just wash it again.”

Pandora sighed, pushing away the king’s advancing touch. “Thank you your majesty, my hair will surely be disturbed by the wind.”

Romirr pouted, “fine, fine. Promise me you will come right back here once you’re done.”

“No, King Romirr, I-“

Romirr gently held onto her shoulders, “never mind making a promise, that is an order.” He smiled, standing up. “Let me walk you out.”

Pandora ignored his outstretched hand, briskly walking toward the door, “with all due respect, King Romirr, I am not a queen, I am not royalty. I am simply an executioner. I dirty my hands every other day. I am not fit for your affection.”

“You are such a stubborn woman,” Romirr laughed, “of course you are.”

Pandora drove her teeth deep into her tongue, fighting the urge to argue further. Without a word, she began walking swiftly toward her place of work. She knew Romirr would never follow her to her room.

She gently closed the doors, hauling the giant iron latch down to lock it. Pandora moved to her study, piles of hastily gathered stacks of paper greeted her. She sat at her desk, flicking through her journal.

Symbols of various magics sprawled the pages. Notes on the light, the dark, angels, demons. Even the little information on eldritch species found a place among the pages.

Concepts of deities she would be willing to form a pact with flooded the book; sketches of the most grotesque entities to the most graceful of beings all had a home there. She turned the page. Her favourite page.

Several detailed sketches of a being taking a feminine form, more humanoid than the other deities featured. Pandora traced her fingers along the grand horns which crowned the being’s head, she stared intensely at the sharp eyes. The smile made her feel safe.

Pandora slowly flipped to the next page, “kill the king,” she recited. She turned the page.

“Kill the king.”

Again. “Kill the king.”

After countless pages repeating the phrase, Pandora opened to a blank page. She lifted her ink brush, bringing it down, repeating the pattern of words on pages before.

She stared at the words.

“He’s stopping me from pursuing so much,” she hissed, slamming her fist down on the desk, “I hate you.”

Not waiting for the ink to dry, she slammed the book shut, hiding it away once again. She stood, exhaling slowly, dusting herself off. She grabbed her coat, throwing it on as she left to round up her survey team.

~~~

“Men, our objective out here is to find proper disposal grounds for the executed,” Pandora announced to the group before her,” we cannot have it located too close to the ocean, so stay away from the shore. Rope off any location you deem fit, I trust your judgments. Is everything clear? There is no need to start digging today.”

The men replied in unison, “yes ma’am,” before each separating to perform their given task.

Pandora watched them disperse, eventually turning to begin searching herself.

She kicked around small rocks, her thoughts straying from the task at hand. She started off at the horizon. Why did something feel off?

She touched the back of her head. It felt as though her brain was struggling to make sense of what she was doing. She was surveying the land, she knew that, yet her mind struggled to make any sense of it.

Pandora gazed around her, all of the men had vanished from her sight. She shook her head, removing rope from her belt. She then stood still, her ears ringing.

“Uoy era ohw?”

Pandora abruptly jerked her head behind her. “Who’s there?” She demanded, withdrawing a small blade.

“Ereh suoregnad si ti.”

Pandora narrowed her eyes.

“Em raeh uoy nac?”

“I…” Pandora rubbed her eyes. “No, I must be going crazy.” She quickly scurried off toward her men, the sound vanishing from her ears. Surely it was last night’s lack of sleep causing this?

She glanced back at the area she moved from. There was nothing, no trees, no shrubs, just flat land with a sizable rock resting on the ground. She squinted.

The rock seemed to start moving, or rather, began flickering. The grey mass began to appear distorted, as did the small area surrounding it. Certainly, there was something there. Pandora did not want to stick around to find out what it was.

She tried distracting herself with surveying work. While she did manage to complete her task, she could not get those strange murmurings out of her head. Night began to encroach on the team as they rounded up to head back to the castle.

Her head was spinning. What had she seen? Or rather, heard? Pandora opened the main doors to the castle, dreading seeing the king again. Of course he was standing there, the man couldn’t even sit on his throne and wait for them.

“Welcome back!” He greeted each of the returning men, his voice so soft yet cheerful. It made her sick.

Pandora avoided eye contact, quickly moving beyond him. She ignored his calls to her.

Finally in the safety of her room, she let herself fall onto her bed. She stared silently at the ceiling.

“What was that…” she asked herself, rubbing her eyes aggressively. Pain began to set in.

She grabbed a pillow, screaming into it. It was like a massive claw was crushing her head, pain crawled all over.

She balled herself up. And the rock? Something was standing there, yet she couldn’t grasp what it was.

‘Uoy era ohw?’

The noise repeated itself in her mind. She began mouthing it.

“Uoy era ohw?”

“Who are you?”

Pandora slapped a hand over her mouth. Was that it? She threw herself out of bed and rushed over to her desk. Grabbing whatever empty paper she could find, she began writing.

“Uoy era ohw means ‘who are you’.” Her eyes lit up upon realizing, “it’s backward human speech…”

She recited the other words she heard, “Ereh suoregnad si ti… ‘it is dangerous here’.”

Then the last set, “Em raeh uoy nac?” She stared at the words, “can you hear me?”

Pandora leaned back in her chair. Whatever it was she encountered didn’t seem aggressive, rather it was curious or protective. She flicked back through her information of various deities. She didn’t have any records of beings who spoke human language backward, let alone ones who barely existed in a physical form.

No, this was something new.

Her fear was replaced with excitement. She hadn’t seen any inhuman beings since her childhood, not since King Romirr made it forbidden for anyone to pursue any kind of magic. Finally, she could have some sort of out of the suffocating pride of humanity Romirr constantly sang about.

Pandora closed her book, placing it in her inside pocket. She pulled her hood over her head, grabbed a lantern, then began her trek back out to the field. She was going to find out what was out there.

~~~

It was dark. Of course it was, it was the middle of the night. Pandora held the light up as she moved toward the rock, slowing as she reached her destination.

“Hello?” She softly called, “I apologize for running off without any words, it was very rude of me.”

“Ereh kcab emoc dlouw uoy?”

Pandora blinked. Now she felt a presence, though she couldn’t see anything. She recited the words in her brain, deciphering them.

“Yes, this land is to be used as a disposal ground, it is my job to ensure that it is fit.”

“You would come back here… in the middle of the night?”

Now the words began to make more sense. She could understand.

“Well…”

“I’ve watched countless children play around here. Yet they always run off when the sun begins to fall. I assume night is a time of danger, yet you’re here.”

“It can be, I suppose, but we don’t have any demons here… they’re not allowed to reside within the kingdom.” Pandora explained.

“And demons are the only source of danger?” The voice seemed to laugh, “angels are hardly any more comforting.”

“I suppose… who are you? Or… what are you…?”

The voice laughed again, “I asked you the same earlier, then you scurried off in such a hurry. Frightened, were you?” The voice hummed, “it is impressive that you can understand me, most find me difficult to comprehend.”

Pandora cleared her throat, “I am Pandora Gladiolus, King Romirr’s…”

The entity waited patiently, static fizzing around Pandora’s head as she struggled to speak.

“King Romirr’s…? Personal maid? Private chef? Queen, perhaps?”

“N-no, absolutely not, never.” Pandora shuddered, “n-no, I’m his executioner.”

“Oh! So you’re the one those little ones chat about.” The being laughed, “they act out such gruesome scenes… from what I gather it’s rather inappropriate for a child to know such violent happenings.”

Pandora winced slightly as static whizzed through her head.

“You know, I’ve learned a lot about humanity just from observing the ones who wander out here. They talk about all sorts of things… until they wander too close here, then their brains cease to work.”

“Excuse me?” Pandora stepped back, “you kill them?”

The entity chuckled, “no no, they simply run away, too much brain pain I suppose. I am still learning many things about your kind… given that you are here now, holding a conversation, why don’t you teach me some more? It is absolutely fascinating that you’re able to understand me.”

Pandora sighed, “I… I’m still trying to figure out what is happening… If it’s so hard for people to understand you then… what are you?”

The entity hummed, “I am neither angel nor demon, I am not a god, yet I stand above them all.” The static positioned itself on the rock.

Pandora narrowed her eyes. Were those legs? The entity seemed to slowly form its static appearance into that of herself, sitting properly upright, one leg folded over the other.

“Ever wonder why angels and demons haven’t annihilated each other yet? They very easily could, if it weren’t for my existence. How much do you know about their respective magics?”

Pandora blinked, quickly pulling out her journal, “it is forbidden to study any of it here, however… I’ve managed to learn quite a bit from the resources I was able to get my hands on. Most of it is written here.”

“Ah, that’s right… A few children have attempted to play pretend games involving languages of magic, yet their guardians scold them. I am rather curious as to why this king of yours is so stuck on forbidding anyone from learning the ways of magic… from what I have heard, and seen, angels and demons can become quite close with humans. That’ll be a story for another time, I will tell you mine first. Would you like to take notes?”

“O-oh, I would! If that is okay with you, of course.”

“Not a problem, only you will be able to read them, after all. Now then, listen closely. Not all angels or demons are happy with the existence of humanity… nor are they particularly fond of each other. Should dark magic outweigh the power of light, or the other way around, the world would be thrown into disarray. Depending on which side has the upper hand, the experience humanity feels would be wildly different. Any deity who is responsible for throwing off this balance is to have their own magic revoked, to restore the balance. That is my purpose. Any questions thus far?”

Pandora stated bewildered at the faint form before her, “so… they’re all at your mercy?”

The entity laughed, “yes.”

Pandora let out an airy laugh, “I… I had no idea… this is spectacular…”

“Would you like to know more?”

“Yes please,” Pandora lifted her charcoal.

“It may take you a moment to understand what comes next, give yourself time to understand, guide yourself to think in a new way. There exists a place which transforms deities to entities closer to humans. This place is called-“

Pandora squinted her eyes.

“Ah, I figured as much. The human brain acts to protect one’s self from unwanted info hazards. Let me say it again, tell yourself you are allowed to understand.”

Pandora nodded.

“This place is called Obmil.”

She scribbled what she heard down in her book, “say it again… I think I understand.”

“Limbo.”

“Limbo?”

The being clapped its now-formed hands, “yes! Oh how wonderful you understand!”

Pandora listened intensely as the entity described Limbo, making as many notes as she could. The pain and fuzzy feeling in her mind began to vanish the more she came to understand.

“So… you don’t have a physical form? Is that why you can’t be affected by Limbo’s environment?” Pandora inquired, scribbling down more information.

“I do not think that is the reason. On a few occasions I have assumed a solid form of existence, yet it remained unchanged. The changes the environments bring upon a deity are a result of time progressing. However you define the concept of time, I am not affected by it.”

“That is fascinating…” Pandora breathed, “you’re some sort of temporal independent entity…” she laughed, “that means his majesty cannot scold me for conversing with you.”

The entity hummed, “if it isn’t too private of a matter, I’m curious as to why he is so against you studying magic.”

“It isn’t just me,” Pandora began, “the whole kingdom. Personally, I think he is afraid of being overthrown… he has a way with words, but is severely lacking in physical strength.”

“So his rule is all through mental manipulation?”

“I… didn’t say that.”

“Oh but the way you speak of him, it’s obvious that he does not treat you with the respect you deserve.”

Pandora fell silent.

“Make me understand how he makes you feel.”

“I… I don’t know how to explain it.” Pandora lowered herself to the ground, “I hate him, he never leaves me alone, constantly whispering to me how… how much he loves me. But then he turns around and starts talking about how we don’t need to be at the mercy of angels or demons. Whenever I try to argue that knowing how to use their magic can protect us, he just…” she pinched the bridge of her nose, “he knows magic is something I want to pursue. He always tells me no. Then he thinks getting close and acting sweet will make me like him more…” Pandora sighed, “I’m sorry, I am not making any sense.”

“You are,” the being said quickly, “he is hindering you.”

“He… yes you’re right. He constantly showers me with gifts, most of which are weapons… I can only imagine it is to prevent me from going after dark or light arts.”

“I may not know everything about humanity, however…” the entity reached out a static hand, “I think you should leave him.”

“I want to,” Pandora rubbed her eyes, “I want to do bad.” She flicked through the pages of her journal. “I…”

“Kill the king.”

Pandora looked up at the entity, a familiar smile on the static-like figure.

“Let’s make a deal.”

~~~Bonus: 1 year later~~~

Pandora quietly closed the door as she snuck back into the castle. The guards outside couldn't care less about her outing, however she knew a certain someone would be waiting. She hoped he was asleep.

She turned the corner, peering out to the throne room. No sign of him. She turned around, silently stepping down the hall, towards her room.

“Late night stroll again, my dear? I can only excuse you from the curfew so many times before I have to do something about it.”

Pandora halted. She looked over her shoulder, catching Romirr’s amber eyes staring her down.

“You’re the king, you can excuse me as many times as you please.” Pandora said, resuming her stroll down the hall.

She heard his footsteps behind her, “I can, yes.” He grabbed the hood of her cloak, dragging her back into his chest. He gripped her arms, “But I am tired of you sneaking out every night. Don’t think I don’t notice.”

Pandora gripped her cloak, resisting the urge to kick him, “let me go.”

Romirr narrowed his eyes, “why should I?”

“Because I did not consent to being manhandled,” she spat. Romirr released his grip.

Pandora continued down the hall, ignoring Romirr’s presence. He continued to speak, his words simply flowing in and out of her ears. She made sense of nothing.

Finally, she reached her room. She reached for the handle, only to be met with resistance.

“Your lock was rusted, so I had it replaced.”

Pandora stared daggers at Romirr, who had positioned himself next to her.

‘If he moves any closer I’ll break his neck.’ Pandora hissed to herself.

‘I think you should do so regardless.’

Ah, there she was.

‘Thank you, Galvarium, but… no, there will be a more appropriate time later.’

Romirr unlocked the door, waiting for her to walk inside. Pandora gazed around the room suspiciously. Everything seemed normal.

“Your keys,” Romirr said, holding them out to her.

Pandora carefully took them, avoiding his eyes. Making eye contact with him made her want nothing more than to scoop them out of his head.

“Thank you,” she said flatly, turning away. She waited for the door to close.

It didn’t.

“You can leave,” Pandora raised her voice slightly.

The door finally closed, however Pandora could still feel Romirr’s eyes staring into her back.

Pandora jerked her head around, “you never come in here. Get out.”

“Pandora, are you forgetting who you’re speaking to?”

“No,” she crossed her arms, “now get out.”

Romirr’s eyes flicked around, eyeing the various axes and blades that adorned the wall. Pandora could tell he was nervous, despite his voice.

Romirr returned his gaze to her, “so you do keep the gifts I give you.”

“What else am I supposed to do with them?” Pandora carefully removed her cloak, ensuring her journal stayed hidden.

Romirr hummed, wandering around her desk, “you keep your work area quite clean. How admirable.”

“Romirr…” Pandora hissed, “leave.”

The air stung with silence. Pandora felt Romirr next to her once again, his hands holding her shoulders, “no.”

‘You have every right to kick him now,’ Galvarium hummed, ‘darling, don’t you dare let him touch you.’

‘But what if I’m exiled…’

‘So what if you are? Pandora, you don’t need this position. You can leave. We have more important matters to attend to anyway.’

By now Romirr’s grip had loosened to an unwelcome embrace.

“King Romirr,” Pandora cleared her throat, “release me. We are not lovers, never will be.”

Romirr simply sighed into her hair, “we’ve found a way to execute angels and demons, Pandora.”

Pandora felt her heart skip a beat.

“After years of simply chasing them out, performing rituals to release humans from their pacts… we can eliminate them.”

“Romirr-“

“No, Pandora, this is amazing. Finally we’re closer to being free of these deities.” He tightened his embrace, “I want you to be the one to carry out these executions, please…”

“Absolutely not.”

Romirr drew his head back, “excuse me?”

Pandora pushed her elbow into Romirr’s rib cage, causing him to stumble back. He glared at her sharply.

“Romirr I am sick and tired of… all of this! The affection I never asked for, the obsession you have with keeping everyone away from magic, this… idea you have that humans are the perfect entity…” Pandora grabbed a knife from the wall. “I’m only here because I don’t know where else I would go if I left… but I realize now I’d rather be wandering out there than being stuck dealing with you.”

Romirr stared at her, his eyes watering slightly, “I don’t understand,” he whimpered, “Pandora, we can finally live without fear.”

Pandora stared at him, “are you serious?” She laughed airily, “you, great King Romirr of Coldera, you live in fear of these deities? Do you realize how easily we as a kingdom can learn how to harness their magic to protect ourselves? Not every angel and demon wants to kill humans.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You haven’t The slightest clue Pandora. You laugh, but I’ve been protecting you from these vile creatures.”

“Protecting me? Or hindering me… all of us?” Pandora drove the knife into a nearby table, “Romirr, you've done nothing to ‘protect’ the people of this kingdom… you’re just afraid people will overpower you.”

Romirr furrowed his eyebrows, “how dare you?” He stepped closer, “after everything I’ve done for you?” He quickly seized her collar, pulling her closer to his face, “I love you, Pandora,” he whispered, “why must you reject me?”

“I do not care about your feelings,” Pandora hissed. Seemingly without control, she pushed him away.

“Pandora… let me, just this once?”

“Absolutely not,” Pandora spat, “I am done. Done with you. I am leaving.”

“But you don’t have anywhere to go,” Romirr smiled, “you know that you’re safe here-“

“Would you shut your mouth? I am sick of you.” Pandora slammed her fist on the table, “Leave me alone. Don’t ever contact me again.”

Romirr cleared his throat, “fine. If you’re going to be like that,” he stood up straight, “I order you to stay put. Tomorrow you will be escorted to the holding cells. You will be tried for committing treason.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t take orders from you anymore.”

“Pandora if you do not listen to me-“

Pandora slammed her fist into the large mirror next to her, shattering their reflections. The shards pierced her skin, blood dripped from her fingers. Romirr shrank back.

“Get out.”

Romirr swiftly collected himself. Within seconds, he was gone.

#OC #original character #Writing #Leel's stories #??? What do I even tag this #Pandora Gladiolus #Galvarium Alkaheidra #Romirr Kagami

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matan4il · 2 years

Note

Hey, this is probably a wildly unpopular opinion right now and maybe you disagree too, which is fine, but I respect your blog and thought you’d be a good person to bounce this off. I truly, unequivocally do NOT think Buck needs a breakdown arc. It seems like some fans want it just because Eddie had one, and to be blunt, the mere thought of it annoys and bores me. Looking back, there have been plenty of moments that focused very much on Buck’s state of mind, from the ladder truck to his family secret; each time, I felt sympathy because he is one of my favorite characters. Also, he has also shown tremendous growth over the past season, from being a good friend to Eddie (who’s always been a good one to him) to ending a toxic relationship on his own terms. Also, his sisters back and there’s no proof in canon that he stopped therapy; the finale of season 5 set up what could be a positive era in which he continues to thrive. So I just think writing him having a breakdown would be repetitive, derivative, and a disservice to this wonderful character. I’d like to see him continue growing into the good man he is, maybe realize a specific calling within firefighting or adopt a pet (maybe a kid, it could happen!) If anything, I’d rather see Hen or Chim get a mental health storyline like that this season! Anyway, thanks if you’ve read this far and have a wonderful day! 😁

Hi Nonnie!

You are always welcome to tell me whatever you want to. I’m not one to care much about what is and isn’t popular, I just enjoy talking to you lot, hearing what you think and sharing what I do... So thank you for sharing! *hearts*

I think a breakdown story worked in s5 for Eddie because on the one hand he has endured so much trauma, and just as importantly, on the other hand he is so repressed. Because he was taught to be so repressed. He’s not someone who can easily come forward and say he needs help. Even when he says it, he’s not really sold on it, meaning that his walls are still up. Like when he went to therapy in s3. He did it because Bobby kind of forced him in that direction and he did it for Chris, but he still wasn’t convinced that he personally would be better off thanks to it. That why it had to be something drastic to crack him open, it had to be a breakdown to get him to realize he can’t go on like that.

Buck, on the other hand, isn’t shy about opening up, asking for help, sharing his emotions, or seeking out therapy. He’s endured a lot of trauma as well, but he’s not quite as repressed as Eddie is. So it doesn’t feel as right for him. And more than that, right after Eddie’s arc in s5, if Buck has a breakdown arc in s6, it would feel like a repeat. Now don’t get me wrong, there’s a lot of parallels there, so that if the show decided to go down that lane, I’m sure they would play off them brilliantly. And if 911 decided to do a breakdown for any character, regardless of their background, I’m sure the result on our screens would be great. So I can very much see why some people want to see it. Because our show is really that good, no matter what challenge it takes on. Yet, I agree with you that for both of the reasons mentioned above (who Buck is as a character, as well as the timing right after Eddie’s breakdown), I tend to think 911 is less likely to go in that direction in s6. Which doesn’t mean we’re not going to see the show delve into his psyche! He’s a main character, a young (attractive and loved) one, he’s newly single, there is no chance in hell that 911 isn’t going to dedicate a lot of time to him in the new upcoming season. We’re going to see him change and grow without a single shred of doubt!

Thank you again for sharing, hope you have a great day! xoxox

(If you're looking for my ask replies, here is my ask tag! xoxox)

#buddie #911meta #buddie meta #911 meta #9-1-1 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #edmundo diaz #evan buck buckley #ask #anon ask #911 speculation #fandom love #911onabc #911 on abc #911abc #911 abc

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notalkingbusiness · 2 years

Text

Confession time – I never really paid that much attention to individual showrunners before Season 11 because I watched the show in my own little bubble. I knew that Darabont was screwed over by AMC but that was about it. I just knew what I liked to watch, and which seasons were weakest. But given TWDU’s bewildering direction of travel, I’ve found it helpful to look back at each showrunner’s era more closely.

It will come as no surprise that my biggest gripes with the show fall under Gimple’s tenure as showrunner because . . . that’s the general consensus. Viewership tanked under the Gimple years (nosediving in Seasons 7-8) and the viewing figures only started to recover under Kang’s premiership.

We lost Darabont and Mazzara years ago. We’ll lose Kang after TWD finale as she’s moving on to bigger and better things. As Chief Content Officer, Gimple’s the last man standing. And I’m wary of what’s to come given Gimple’s record as showrunner.

A few problems immediately spring to mind . . .

1. Gimple’s pacing leaves much to be desired. Even the stronger seasons (4 &5) felt very meandering to me. I rationalized the poor pacing in Season 4/start of Season 5 as the characters were scattered and homeless, but it started to wear extremely thin by the time they got to Alexandria. When Season 6 rolled around, I remember thinking, “What even is this show? Why are we randomly in black and white? Should I stop watching here?”

I very nearly gave up on TWD in Season 6. There’s no way I would have carried on watching if the whole series hadn’t been available to watch on streaming services. I think that the Darabont, Mazzara, and Kang eras are all much more tightly written, and I’ve never been tempted to abandon ship during their respective tenures as showrunner.

2. Unfortunately, I get the sense that Gimple is easily bored and/or distracted as a showrunner because threads are dropped all the time. He’s more interested in showing things go BOOM rather than emotionally driven storytelling. To give credit where it’s due, I liked all the visual clues in Season 4 and the beginning of Season 5 that Terminus was not what it seemed. The Holocaust imagery was effective. I particularly liked the prominent sunflowers in the Terminus yard - sunflowers = false riches in the language of flowers. But Terminus was the start and end of Gimple’s consistent thematic motifs/parallels – I’ve never been able to see anything beyond the surface level with his other villains. This couldn’t be more different to Kang’s intricate work with the Whisperer conflict = post-apocalyptic cold war.

3. A tale of two CDC references.

No one likes Dr Jenner as much as Gimple lol. I’ve already covered this in a previous post, so I won’t labor the point. But why on Earth would you use Dr Jenner as the key to TWDU? Why would you pour the last 11 seasons down the drain?

Compare Gimple’s approach to the CDC episodes to Kang’s. Having Daryl remember that Carol was claustrophobic in Season 10 after she mentioned it in the CDC bunker in Season 1? That’s gold, pure gold. It proves that Daryl was paying attention from the very beginning. It’s a character driven callback, not a gimmick.

4. Sexual assaults – there are multiple references to rape/coerced consent in each of Gimple’s seasons. In fairness, Mazzara also included rape/sexual assault in Seasons 2-3 and so did Darabont in Season 1 – I didn’t like it when they did it either. It’s worth remembering that Kang hasn’t used rape or sexual assault once during her time as showrunner. Writing is all about choices and Gimple is choosing to subject his characters to the threat of sexual violence again and again and again. And every single incident misses the mark because it feels like they’re thrown in with very little thought. None of the assaults were handled with the sensitivity that they deserved.

5. Everything about the Anderson storyline was off. I won’t get into everything here, but something that always sticks out to me is the lack of interaction between Jessie and Carol. You’d think that it would be worth exploring the dynamic between characters with similar histories. Like how Kang set up the bond between Daryl and Lydia (two victims of child abuse with complicated families). I’d take a Carol conversation with Jessie over a confrontation with Pete any day of the week. But I guess we’re just left with what happens when you prioritize your male characters above all else.

6. Gimple prefers shock over substance. To me, it feels more like “Bet you didn’t see that coming!” rather than going with what would be best for the story. Take Denise. She got Abraham’s comic death and Abraham was killed in Negan’s lineup instead. So, Denise’s death was a shock, Abraham was spared for a while, and we were supposed to be shocked again when Abraham got his brains bashed in. Thing is though, when people talk about Negan’s line up, they only tend to talk about Glenn. Abraham tends to be added as an afterthought. Killing Glenn was shocking enough, Abraham shouldn’t have died in the lineup – he should have had his comic death. That way, the impact of Abraham’s death could have been felt fully and (more importantly) Denise would still be alive – the bury your gays trope could have been avoided.

Obviously, the biggest shock over substance moment was Carl’s death (another Gimple style deviation from the comics). This was a huge mistake because hope, legacy, and inter-generational transfer are key elements of post-apocalyptic convention. Carl was still a child when the world turned upside down and becomes a man in the new world – he straddles these two worlds more than any other character. Let’s just say that those “look how far we’ve come” monologues in Season 11 would make a heck of a lot more sense coming from Carl (born and raised in the old world for the first decade of his life) than Judith (born and raised in the apocalypse). And that’s before we even get into the ethics of Chandler Riggs being written out before his 18th birthday. Big yikes.

I’m not saying you can never deviate from the comics, far from it. Sometimes deviating from the source material results in a better story. Take the pikes in Season 9. In the comics, Ezekiel’s head is in on the pike. In the show, we get Henry’s head on the pike. Kang made the right call. Kang avoided killing off yet another black male character in a brutal fashion. After Henry’s death, Carol has the power to choose her own future and she decides to leave her marriage. Carol would not have this agency if she’d been made a widow by the whisperers – she wouldn’t have been able to choose Daryl over Ezekiel.

7. For me, Gimple’s era is characterized by missed opportunities and wasted potential. I kept waiting for all of these important conversations to happen and . . . they never did. Don’t get me wrong, we’ve got some great Caryl moments in Season 5, but I basically spent my first viewing chanting, “Please, please, for the love of God, just talk to each other!” the entire time. I finished Season 5 and I thought, “It’s okay, I’m sure they’ll talk about Lizzie and have a meaningful heart to heart in Season 6”. And then Season 6 came and went. And then Season 7. And then Season 8.

So, when we were blessed with so much Caryl content and Lizzie references in Seasons 9 and 10, I thought, “Finally! We’re getting somewhere! We’re going to have all those conversations that we should have had years ago!”. Seasons 9 & 10 were consistently good quality and Caryl centric. In another timeline, we’ve got a Season 11 that’s in line with S9/S10 quality and the Caryl spinoff – oh, to live in that world!

Anyway, thus concludes my thoughts on Gimple (for now). There are some great episodes in Seasons 4-8 but overall, the bad outweighs the good tenfold. It remains to be seen if Gimple’s grand plans for TWDU help or hinder AMC’s streaming ambitions. Personally, I wouldn’t bet on Gimple.

#scott gimple #angela kang #caryl

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