a rolling stone carries no moss @stoneasher - Tumblr Blog

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have you seen ( asher stone, he/him )? They look a lot like ( milo manheim ). The ( 28 ) year old ( indie music producer ) is so ( goofball, charming, hardworking ) but I heard they can also be really ( sarcastic, never serious, impulsive ). Can you believe they’ve been in town for ( their whole life )?! They live in the ( Manchester Park) neighborhood and kind of remind me of ( late night coffee runs, headphones around your neck, texts asking if you made it home, humming absentmindedly without noticing ). If I was asked, I’d guess that they were ( most likely to start a band ) in their yearbook for the class of ( 2015 ).

#about: asher

1071thetea

I saw Harriet McLaughlin and Asher Stone grabbing coffee and they looked awful cozy together when they left. Are they bumping uglies now? Good for him. Hope he can handle her.😏😉

"Did Asher Stone finally lock it down? I mean you'd think he'd want to do better than Carroll's Ice Queen Harriet McLaughlin, but maybe he thaws her out. They have to be fucking, though, right? I mean what does Harriet do that's interesting otherwise? Besides kissing her best friend's Dad of course. Must be why no one's seen her at the hospital visiting him yet. She must have been cast out. Could that be why she's clinging to Asher's light? She lost the Reynolds and doesn't have any of her own?"

@harrietmclaughlin @stoneasher

stoneasher

#about: asher #( asher x harriet: i find you in every song on my playlist )#you just gave him an idea #thanks brit!!

1071thetea

Teddy and Matt, bet, you gonna sing a whole song about how rock hard this man is? They are gonna be so hot, too hot to not fall in love !! What about Asher and Vera our Brad and Janet? Chemistry through the roof. Oooh how bout some understudy romance? Claude and Evie look real comfortable together already in that bed.. and Nathan and Ruby have been.. making a lot of props

I bet there's more, spill people spill

"Oh... oh these are juicy. Idek if in have anything to add. Teddy Robshaw and Matt Whitlock-Holmes would be wild. Vera Cowen better watch it for Harriet McLaughlin if she's gonna make moves on Asher Stone. Evie Fields and Claudio Rojas cute and sexy. Oh I love everything about this."

@theodore-robshaw @chaoticmattwhitlock @stoneasher @thexcarrollxtimes @angstfactory @eviescore @harrietmclaughlin

stoneasher

#about: asher #the utter confusion #he's like i have chemistry with everyone?!

defendingtheice

int. ryder house pregame - late afternoon, before wedding reception, May 9 @angstfactory (claudio, fitz), @stoneasher @aggierobshaw and ruth discord

Ashton "ha, you should see the way Ruth's medal display holds against mine, can't beat that," Ash chuckled to Claude pointing in the general direction where the two's proof of accomplishments still hung in the hallway in their family home, helping to put out the goods they bought from the grocery store before coming back home for them to snack and drink while they got ready. Ash hasn't changed yet, waiting for Asher to arrive at least before they all got ready together. He called out to Ruth and his mom letting them know they were back home, before turning to Claude, "got your clothes to change?"

#( ashton: 007 )#( aggie: 004 )#( claude: 008 )#( ruth: 003 )#( fitz: 007 )

who: @harrietmclaughlin where: beach!! date: july 18, 2026

asher had packed a basket for him and harriet to take to the beach, complete with a blanket folded neatly on top and enough food tucked inside that it probably counted as overprepared. he picked her up from the orchard on his motorcycle, trying very hard not to look too pleased with himself when she climbed on behind him. the ride out was warm and easy, the road stretching ahead of them, the town falling farther behind with every mile.

that had been intentional. asher wanted somewhere quiet. somewhere people were not going to stare, whisper, or decide their date belonged to everyone else before it had even really begun. he had picked a stretch of beach he figured would be mostly empty, and when they arrived, he was relieved to find he had been right. there were only a few people scattered far down the sand, distant enough that they barely mattered.

asher parked the bike and cut the engine, grinning as he pulled off his helmet. the ocean air moved around them, warm and salty, and for a second he just looked out at the water like he was proud of himself for getting them here then his gaze turned to hattie. “looks like we have plenty of spots to choose from,” he said, smile softening. “we can spread the blanket out on the sand, if you want.” he tilted his head, glancing toward the picnic tables nearby before looking back at her. “or we can eat at a table like civilized people.” his grin tugged wider. “i’m going to leave that choice up to you, though.”

#i found a zombie sort of beach one where he didn't look 12 :)#( asher x harriet )#harrietmclaughlin #( harriet: 012 )

harrietmclaughlin

in her ever so limited experience, dates usually meant a table at a nice restaurant or drinks at a trendy bar. she'd listened to aspen tell her about the variety that the reynolds sisters went on with something of a cool distance. it was all something awkward, familiar, like a bad pantomime of a movie. this was not that kind of date, starting with the fact that she'd had to find the pair of sneakers in her closet for whatever he had planned.

she knew asher had been looking at her. there were plenty of parties, school hallways, walks to coffee, to prove that he'd been searching for her among all the crowds in their lives. watching to catalogue her coffee order, her drink order, what song she wanted to listen to next. walking into the non-descript building, she immediately understood this was different, it was an acknowledgement of the worst parts of herself she'd let him glimpse.

it was the broken picture frames on the wall of her house, the hallway vase she tipped over on a holiday. the reynolds barn burned down, the branch on a tree pulled off until the bark rubbed her hands raw. it was the glass she'd thrown down in front of him slicing across her shin, the equipment she broke at work cutting into her palm. this choice wasn't indicative of someone who had been looking at her, it was someone who'd seen.

she took in the different signage, before landing back on his face, and the optimism that found itself waiting for her own opinion on the idea. "you thought of everything." she said finally, taking in his explanation for the longer trip out of town, the sudden feeling of anonymity that washed over her. she let him take the lead, quietly listening to the instructions and signed waivers, all the while her gaze kept sliding back over to asher with a curious half-smile.

so— it wasn't a surprise that she had such tendencies just under the skin, but she hadn't thought it was the sort of activity he took part in. as she stepped into the coveralls they offered, they finally had another moment, "how did you find this place?"

stoneasher

four words were enough to make asher’s smile beam. she loved it and that sent a bright, excited buzz through him as they listened to the rules. he nodded along to the instructions, the do’s and don’ts, the waiver details, the safety reminders, all while trying not to look too pleased with himself. he filled out the paperwork quickly, still buzzing from the fact that he had actually brought harriet mclaughlin on a date to a rage room and she seemed into it.

he was zipping up his coveralls when she asked her question. asher reached for his safety glasses, then turned back to her with an easy grin. “google,” he answered simply. the grin lingered for a second, but then it softened. he picked up another pair of safety glasses for her too, turning fully toward her now. “but, uh…” he glanced down at the glasses in his hands, thumb brushing over the plastic edge. “after rowan died, i had all this anger in me. not at him. not really. just at everything.”

his throat worked around the words. even though he was getting better at talking about rowan, this part was harder. uglier. less romantic than the love story, less clean than grief people knew how to comfort. anger had made him feel strange in his own body. like something sharp had moved in and did not know where to go. “it felt unfair that he was gone,” he said quietly. “unfair that i was still here. unfair that i had to keep waking up in a world where he didn’t.” asher took a breath, then looked back at her. “someone took me to one of these.”

his mouth tugged into a small, almost sheepish smile. “and it helped. not permanently or magically. i didn’t walk out fixed or anything. but for an hour, i got to put all those feelings somewhere. i got to break things without breaking myself.” he stepped closer and held the safety glasses out to her. “i thought you’d understand that.” his gaze stayed on hers, open and gentle, because he did not mean it as an insult. he meant that he saw her. he meant that harriet carried things too, and maybe she also deserved a room where she could stop being composed for a little while. then his smile returned, warmer now, a little brighter. “besides,” he added, “it’s fun as shit to take a sledgehammer to some walls.”

#harrietmclaughlin #( asher x harriet )#( harriet: 009 )

harrietmclaughlin

she nodded once in response to his own comment on luck, a light sparked in her eyes which hinted that she found the whole endeavor amusing. if the three rings went sailing over the bottles and they walked away to another booth, she would find another prize. even as the first toss went long, her bemused expression didn't falter. there were two more tries, after all, and the chance to be a first time winner was still on the table.

as he turned back to her to make sure that she was still paying attention, she was. it was a quiet fascination with the intensity that he'd suddenly decided that he was going to win the game. and he would, she could see it in the shift of his posture, straightening his aim for the very noble goal of plastic rings landing on wooden bottles.

"i did." she acknowledged, words that were carried with the same bright tone that he used to show her the little bug that was now their companion for the rest of the day. she held the ladybug aloft, as though it was something that could have made a difference in the outcome of the game. she had a feeling it was more to do with the years of practice that he'd mentioned. she tucked it under her arm, a small protective gesture, "very lucky of you."

stoneasher

asher grinned when she said she had seen him win the ladybug. “good,” he said, looking very pleased with himself. “i just wanted to make sure there were witnesses.” then she tucked the stuffed ladybug beneath her arm, and something in his expression softened. it was such a small thing. ridiculous, maybe. a carnival prize from a ring toss booth that had almost defeated him immediately. but seeing harriet hold onto it made his chest feel warm in a way he did not know what to do with.

when she called him lucky, his smile turned gentler. “or i had the right motivation.” he leaned in and kissed her lightly, soft enough to be sweet, lingering enough to make it obvious he wanted to stay there longer. when he pulled back, he found her hand again and slipped his fingers through hers. “so,” he said, leading them away from the booth, “what are you going to name the ladybug?” his grin widened as he glanced over at the prize tucked under her arm.

“is it too cliché to name her lady? or bug?” a beat. “or are we going with something wild and dignified, like cynthia marie michael hastings the third?”

#( asher x harriet )#harrietmclaughlin #( harriet: 011 )

defendingtheice

"Should I read up on their music? Impress them?" Ash had to joke, a nice way for two of Asher's worlds to collide, and he wanted to make sure it went fine. "If they're your friends, I bet I'll love them," the people that gravitated towards Asher were always good people. Ashton will could blinders on ignoring Aspen being his friend, but he didn't judge it. Aspen and him had a.. strangely civil Ferris wheel ride, even if she annoyingly forced herself upon getting in the ride with him. "Don't think British people will be very impressed by a hockey player though, right?" Ash laughed gesturing to himself. Ironically feeling nervous, not because they might've been famous, but because they surely mean a lot of Asher.

Ash frowned slightly at the way he puts himself below his siblings, though he understood that humble move very well. He didn't skip a beat with a counter point, "well, then you're the hotter Stone then, if they're cooler." To Ashton, his friends were more important to him, even if it was true that his family is way cooler or more impressive, Ash's perception won't change of his close friends being the coolest he knows of. He mocked a dramatic look of insult as Asher continued about the battle of the Ryders, before breaking, "okay mom is very cool. But she'd hang with you if you asked." His mother had known his friends as long as he did, the Ryders household had always been happy to host, open to friends and strangers alike, easiest to run to after school ended. Varina had been such a young mother too, and was just like a best friend to Ashton too alongside his peers of close friends.

Saying that out loud felt like letting go of a breath he had been holding for a really long time. It felt painful, but also like he could then take the next breath. Or take his next chug of whiskey. He appreciated Asher stopping and coming to sit with him, as uncomfortable as the full attention was on something that felt embarrassing to admit, it was the first time he felt like he told anyone about it. He poured himself a refill in his glass doing the same top up for Asher, filling the silence with something to do when he didn't know what else to do. Ash tried to think back at their conversations, some more private than others but still he shook his head, "I'm a lil too scared to," before changing his train of thought to a shrug, "I mean.. we've talked a little, about everything, the NHL press, the long distance plans, how we felt about everything.. but- I didn't wanna assume." He didn't want to know if it was true.

He brought the glass to his lips, the Amber liquid slipping past his lips once more,like as if the answer would be at the bottom of this entire whiskey bottle. "You really think I should talk to him? ..like, what- hey are you not feeling good about us anymore?" His voice trembled even as the sound of the sobering question itself. Didn't sound like a good idea when Ash put it that way. But the warmth growing across his body from the alcohol was making anything sound like a good idea. "..you know, people are taking bets online. Who's gonna break up with who first, when it'll happen, who's cheating on who, how long it's gonna last." Ash didn't care about all of it, but he couldn't help but wonder if it was affecting March.

stoneasher

asher laughed and nodded. “i’m sure they’d love having another american fan,” he said. “that would make two, including me.” when ashton said he was sure he would love them because they were asher’s friends, asher looked over at him with a grin. he hoped that was true. pale harbor meant so much to him, and even though things were different now, even though rowan was gone and there was someone new singing the songs, they were still some of the most important people in asher’s life. “they might be excited to meet you too,” he said. “it is very impressive, what you do.” his grin turned playful. “you beat people up on ice. they’re probably going to have so many questions.”

asher could not help wiggling his eyebrows when ashton called him the hottest stone. “oh, you think i’m the hottest stone?” he asked, leaning into the tease immediately. “have you been checking me out, ryder?” he had never seriously considered hanging out with ashton’s mom before, but now that the thought existed, maybe he would have to do it one day just to make ashton laugh. besides, varina was easily one of the coolest moms in the friend group. “well, give me her number,” he said, lifting his glass. “i’ll ask her to hang out, and then i can make an informed decision.”

asher silently thanked him when ashton topped off his drink, then settled into listening, really listening. he took a sip of whiskey as ashton spoke, feeling the warmth of it settle in his stomach and fuzz slightly at the tips of his fingers. when his friend finished, asher stayed quiet for a moment, shaking his head. “don’t listen to that shit, man.” his voice was firm now, the teasing gone. “people who live on the internet like that don’t know you. they don’t know march. they don’t know anything except how to take little pieces of someone’s life and turn them into something ugly because they’re bored.” he rolled his eyes, anger flashing on ashton’s behalf.

“do you know how many times i’ve seen people i know end up in tabloids or gossip threads? they rip them apart, guess how long they’ll last, act like they understand an entire relationship from one picture or one rumor. it’s ridiculous.” asher shook his head. “you don’t need to be looking at that. it’s not information. it’s noise.” then he pointed at ashton with the hand holding his glass, brows lifting like this next part was important. “and, yes, you should talk to march about it.” a beat. “i’m always one for open and honest communication.”

which was maybe a little funny, considering how many things asher had recently failed to communicate openly and honestly, but the whiskey had made him sincere enough not to immediately undercut himself. “if we were dating and you were feeling like this, i’d want to know,” he said. “i wouldn’t want you sitting there, hurting and spiraling and deciding what i felt without giving me the chance to tell you myself.”

his expression softened. “because that’s what being with someone is supposed to be, right? you’re on the same team. and being scared to talk to your teammate is not great.” he tilted his head, watching ashton carefully. “what if the roles were reversed? wouldn’t you want march to talk to you?”

#defendingtheice #( asher x ashton )#( ashton: 005 )

harrietmclaughlin

she'd said yes and she meant it so honestly, without hesitation. she meant it with the willingness to let herself be placed back against the wall while he paused again, checked again, making sure that she was okay. even now, with her shirt pulled up revealing the black lace band of her bra, her heart so loud in her chest it might as well have assisted the baseline they could both hear, she meant it. in the shiver that ran up from where he found her bare skin underneath her shirt.

there was still something so gentle in the way he traced her edges, slow enough that he could feel how her breath sped up by each lingering touch. teaching patience in each of the so that he could hear the smallest gasp that left her as he held the bare skin of her waist, keeping her in place so that she could answer him again.

"i don't want to stop." she said, the words hazier this time, catching on the inhales that came sharp against his elaboration as he pressed his forehead to her. each new gesture so dizzyingly intimate, fit together in tender ways that she hadn't considered possible. she looked back up at him when his eyes found hers, nodding to his elaboration, her hands slowly finding their way from his neck to his jaw so that she could pull him back into another breathless kiss. her emphasis was in action, but she could still listen to what he needed, "i don't want to slow down."

"i want you." just like this, undone, the two of them with still too much fabric in between them for the thoughts that spun through her mind at the statements he was making. the feeling ricocheting between them in how she repeated them back so that he was sure that she would give him anything that he asked for. if he was stupid with desire, then she was a close second, as any attempt to be clever evaded her. she couldn't think of anything else she might say, there was no hiding how badly she wanted him.

even in the middle of the store opening, especially now. while he looked at her like she was the only person in the world, despite the fact that they could both could hear that wasn't the case. she almost kissed him again, she could feel his lips on hers waiting for the sign, and her words were quiet but no less true for it, as she continued, "so, take my shirt off."

stoneasher

asher listened as harriet made herself clear. she wanted him. she wanted this and god, he wanted her right now. the certainty of it hit him like something physical, hot and low in his stomach, burning through every careful thought he had left. he kissed her again, deeper this time, his hands gripping her waist as he pulled her closer against him. not hesitant. not waiting for the next instruction. she had told him what she wanted, and asher believed her.

so he stopped holding himself back like wanting her was something he needed to apologize for. when she told him to take her shirt off, he nodded once, already reaching for the hem. his fingers caught in the fabric, tugging it free before dragging it up and over her head. he dropped it beside them without looking, because once she was in front of him in that black lace, he couldn’t look away. his breath caught then his own shirt felt unbearable.

asher reached behind his neck, grabbed the back of it, and pulled it over his head in one quick motion, letting it fall with hers. when his gaze found hers again, there was no hiding what was in his eyes. want, need, and something almost reverent underneath both. his hands returned to her sides, rough palms settling against warm skin, and he looked down at her like he was trying to survive the sight of her and failing beautifully. the black lace. the soft line of her stomach. the top of her shorts. his fingers followed the path his eyes had taken, tracing slowly down her ribs, over her waist, to the place where fabric met skin.

“hattie,” he breathed, her name rough in his mouth then his eyes lifted back to hers. he kissed her again, passionate and hungry, pressing her back against the wall of the production booth as the music downstairs pulsed faintly through the floor. his hands moved over her like he had been trying not to imagine this for years and had finally lost the argument with himself. waist. ribs. back. the curve of her hip beneath his palm.

he could not stop touching her. he did not want to. kissing her was not enough. nothing felt like enough when she was this close, when her hands were on him, when her body moved toward his instead of away. he trusted that if she wanted him to stop, she would tell him. he trusted her. he trusted the yes she had already given him. still, his mouth brushed against hers as he murmured, low and warm, “tell me if you want me to stop.” his hand tightened at her waist, pulling her in closer. “otherwise, i’m going to keep touching you like i’ve been thinking about it for years.”

his lips moved from her mouth to her jaw, then lower, finding the sensitive place beneath her ear as his hand slid up her back. his fingers found the strap of her bra, grazing along it before moving to the clasp. he didn’t pause like he was afraid. he paused because he wanted her to feel it. because he wanted her to know exactly where his hands were, exactly what he wanted, exactly how close he was to losing the rest of his restraint.

“do you like this?” he asked against her skin, voice rougher now. his fingers worked the clasp open, and the lace loosened between them. asher exhaled like it had hurt to wait even that long. then he kissed her again, one hand spreading over her bare back, the other dragging slowly up her side as if he could learn her better by touch than by sight. he pulled the bra down and off of her, and the first press of her bare skin against his nearly took the breath from him. there was nothing distant or careful about the wanting now. it gathered low in him, heavy and undeniable, his body hardening from the simple, impossible fact of touching her like this. his mouth was hot against hers, his body pressing closer, every careful part of him giving way to the desperate truth of wanting her.

he wanted harriet. not quietly from across a room, but now and here. with the soundboard glowing behind them and the music downstairs shaking through the walls, asher touched her like she was the only thing in the world he had ever been this sure of.

#harrietmclaughlin #( asher x harriet )#( harriet: 008 )#usfw #ish???

ruthellerymd

she would have done anything her friend asked of her, whatever it took to make the vision for today come to life. that's why she had gotten up early, asked davin oh so politely as though manual labor counted as anything like a date. if the plan changed a few times and now she was on sound-check, then she was happy to roll with it. she and davin had been the first to arrive, bringing an infectious good nature that she'd come to associate with the two of them setting their mind to an idea.

"the piano." there was one still sitting in the living room of her house at least. from when she thought she'd wanted to learn an instrument, as though there had been enough free time for that alongside everything else she thought she'd wanted to do. "well, it's been a few years." longer than that if she was being honest with herself, considering her apartment in new york had definitely not hade one. "maybe the traingle is better."

she waited for him to point towards what she needed to test, "you're going to introduce me to everyone, right?" there was the priest, and the bandmates, and so much more live music. she loved everything about the idea, any excuse to go to a gallery opening or a live show was what she was looking for. she loved the arts through sheer willpower of finding the time to. "i've got to get autographs."

stoneasher

asher nodded when ruth picked an instrument, his grin brightening. “perfect. test out the keyboard for me, please.” he laughed, shaking his head as he moved toward the drum kit. “no, the triangle doesn’t fit your vibe,” he said. “but piano does. very classy. very elegant. very you, my friend.”

he picked up the sticks and gave the snare a few careful taps, listening for the tone, but stopped when ruth asked her question. his expression softened immediately. “yeah, i can introduce you.” there was no hesitation in his answer. if anything, he looked pleased by the idea, like all of his favorite people existing in the same room was exactly the kind of thing good frequency had been built for. “i talked about you guys all the time when i was working with pale harbor, so i’m sure they’ll recognize names.” his smile widened. “and you know me. i love when my friends come together.”

asher returned to the drums, testing the snare again, then the cymbals, listening closely as each sound rang out. once he was satisfied, he moved smoothly toward one of the amps, adjusting the settings before plugging in and checking for any crackle or hum that should not be there. while the amp buzzed softly to life, his gaze slid back to ruth. “so,” he said, far too casually, “davin seems nice.” his brows lifted, and then came the eyebrow wiggle. “is he always this helpful, or is he trying to impress you?”

#ruthellerymd #( asher x ruth )#( ruth: 002 )

harrietmclaughlin

if all she had for the night was the knowledge that he trusted her, then she would have taken it. she would have let him unlock the record booth and go back down the music, the people waiting to congratulate him. she had sworn to herself that she could be patient, she could understand the importance of the evening outside of her own aching, waiting question. she didn't ask it when she saw him in the morning, she didn't now, pressed against his chest.

she looked up at him, nodding at his really? taking the peace for everything she could before they returned to the racks of vinyls and the white wine gone warm in plastic cups. and then he kissed her, the syllables she might have been forming lost in one sharp inhale against his lips. shock, relief, the immediate desire that found its way into her veins as she let him guide her back against the wall of the studio.

the position was familiar, though she did prefer the sound-proof walls to the tree bark that had pressed against her back weeks before. she returned his kiss with all of the confusion, and honesty, and grief, and every other emotion he had given to her to hold. she kissed him hard enough to prove that she was still there, and whatever they were, whatever this was, she needed it just as badly as he did.

his arms kept her in place while her own hands wandered up his chest, catching on the edge of his shirt before he broke the kiss, leaving her paused, the only movement her chest as she breathed in shallow, and desperate, trying to contain just how much she wanted whatever he was going to say next. her thoughts were in a mixed order, almost rearranged when he asked her the question. not one she'd been waiting for, but one that sent desire through her in a way that she'd never felt.

it was heady, a fire stoked with such a sudden intensity that she almost almost bypassed using her words. but, as she looked up at him, waiting so sincerely for an answer, his voice low and quiet, his eyes on her she realized she liked being able to respond as such, the word still hadn't gotten old to say out loud. not teasing, not convoluted with meaning, just direct.

as she looked up at him placing her hands around his neck, she said it, "yes, asher. you can touch me." her body taut as she held herself carefully, tracing over each of the words. so that he knew her answer, clear and re-confirmed. so that if they were going to do this, there was no doubt how much she wanted it. "don't stop."

stoneasher

asher waited with bated breath. his gaze stayed on hers, dark with want, but steady enough that she could still find him underneath it. he wanted her. god, he wanted her so badly it felt like his whole body had been tuned to one note, vibrating with it, aching with it, barely holding itself together, but if she said no, he would stop. he would step back. he would breathe through it. he would take her hand and bring her downstairs and listen to the rest of the bands like his heart was not trying to beat its way out of his chest. they could go slow. they could come back to this later, or not at all, and he would survive it because wanting harriet did not matter more than listening to her.

then her hands slid up to his neck. the touch sent goosebumps down his skin and when she said yes, when she told him not to stop, the last thread of his restraint snapped. asher kissed her again, harder this time, a rougher sound leaving him as his hands finally came off the wall. they found her waist first, careful for half a second before the permission really sank in. then he pulled her closer, fitting her against him like he had been trying not to imagine exactly this since the first time she kissed him. his hands moved over her sides, over the fabric of the shirt she wore tucked into her clothes. his shirt. good frequency across her body like she had walked into his life wearing proof that she wanted to be part of it.

he broke the kiss just enough to look down at her. there she was, flushed and close and breathing unevenly, wearing his store’s name like it belonged on her. something in his expression shifted. hungry. reverent. ruined. his. not in a way that meant ownership. not in a way that took anything from her. his like a song stuck in his head. his like a secret trusted into his hands. his like the girl he had wanted for half his life was finally looking at him like she wanted him back. “hattie,” he breathed, and it barely sounded like a warning.

his fingers found the hem of the shirt and tugged it free from where she had tucked it in, slow enough that she could stop him, but she did not. his eyes flicked back to hers, checking again, always checking, and when she stayed with him, he slid his hands beneath the fabric. the first touch of her bare skin nearly undid him. his palms were warm, a little rough from years of instruments and cables and carrying equipment, calluses catching softly against the smoothness of her waist. he felt her inhale beneath his hands, felt the tiny shift of her body toward him, and it made his head dip, mouth finding hers again because he did not know what else to do with the sound that almost left him.

he kissed her like he had been waiting years and was only now realizing exactly how long that had been. downstairs, the band kept playing. the bass moved up through the floorboards, low and steady, making the production booth feel like it had a pulse of its own. lights glowed across the board behind them, little red and green signals blinking in the dim, while asher pressed her gently back against the wall and touched her like he was learning a song by ear. slowly at first. then less slowly.

his hands moved over her waist, her ribs, the soft line of her back beneath her shirt. every inch he was allowed felt like something holy and dangerous all at once. he wanted to memorize her this way. not the idea of her, not the old high school ache of her, not the impossible version he had carried around for years, but harriet. real and warm and breathing against him. he pulled back only when he had to, lips brushing her cheek, then the corner of her mouth, then lower, along her jaw. “tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmured against her skin, voice rough and low.

his hand tightened carefully at her waist. “tell me if you want me to slow down.” he kissed just beneath her ear, breath shuddering as his forehead dropped briefly against her temple. “because i want you,” he whispered. “so much it’s making me stupid.” then he looked at her again, eyes dark and open and full of something softer beneath the heat. “but i don’t want to take anything you’re not giving me.”

#harrietmclaughlin #( asher x harriet )#( harriet: 008 )#he just likes hearing her say yes to him

aspenreynolds

Her mouth fell open at his words, a sharp, pained anger rippling in from the edges as defensiveness took hold. "I was distraught." She hissed at him. "If you haven't forgotten, she'd kissed my dad and it got spread all over town." Voice low so it stayed just between them she looked at him with incredulity. "I already apologized for that. I know it was stupid and selfish. But I was trying to get to her, and it was horrible of me not to think of you, okay? I know, and I'm sorry. But isn't it a shitty thing for her to do as a best friend, too, to go after my dad? Or does she get a pass because she's Hattie and you've been in love with her since the beginning of time?" The fear that she'd be cast aside and thirded by her friends romance rearing it's head even through the ache of everything else.

"This is how Hattie and I have always worked. One of us does something to upset the other, we get our lick backs and we're even. But my dad was too far and I just-... I self destructed a little bit, okay? I was in Rome, alone, staring at that picture. And I was so... I was so...." The emotions started to well up again as that now avoided picture appeared in front of her eyes, forcing those hurt-angry tears back to her eyes, though she did her best to blink them back with a hard swallow. "I was so upset. I reacted without thinking." Turning back to him the fight went out of her with a deep sigh. "Now this, you guys. I'm really happy for you, I am, really. What happens when I come back next time and there's no room for me with you two anymore? I don't actually have that many friends, Asher."

stoneasher

asher’s jaw set harder as aspen dug her heels in, still trying to explain why what she had done to harriet was somehow justified. “and need i remind you that the town didn’t only talk about your dad?” he asked, voice tightening. “they talked about her too.” he set his drink down because he was not enjoying it anymore. not the wine, not the conversation, not the way aspen kept circling back to her own hurt like that erased everyone else’s. “or are you too self-absorbed to care about that part?” the second the words left his mouth, he knew they were harsh, but he did not take them back.

“do you honestly think hattie and i haven’t talked about it?” he continued. “of course we have. but that’s between her and me.” and they had talked about it. that night, after everything came out, asher had gone to her orchard. he had stayed at her place and they had talked through gus and holden, through him and evie, even though there had never really been a him and evie. not in the way people wanted to make it sound. that was exactly why he felt justified standing here now, giving aspen a piece of his mind because hattie had already let him see how it hurt.

“that is not how friends work,” he said, sharper now. asher took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but it did not do much. maybe back in high school, he had not understood the shape of aspen and harriet’s friendship. he had been on the sidelines then, watching from a distance, too young and too in love and too hopeful to see all the ways they cut into each other, but he was almost thirty now. he had lived. he had loved. he had lost someone. he knew enough to know this was not what healthy friendship was supposed to look like. they were toxic to each other and he was tired of pretending that was romantic or dramatic or just the way they were.

asher scoffed, hurt turning into frustration. “stop making everything about yourself, aspen.” his eyes stayed on hers, stern now. “your sentence should have ended at, ‘i’m really happy for you, really.’ that’s it. that’s where you stop. not questioning what happens when you come back and feel left out.” he shook his head. “harriet and i like each other. we’re going to have a relationship that exists separately from you, because it has to. that doesn’t mean we’re not still your friends. it doesn’t mean anyone is abandoning you.” his voice lowered, but the edge stayed. “but you don’t get to turn us being together into something we’re doing to you.”

when she said she did not have many friends, something in asher’s expression hardened again. “and whose fault is that, aspen?” he looked at her, disappointed more than anything now. “because we all know you’ll never take the blame yourself.”

#( asher x aspen )#aspenreynolds #( aspen: 003 )

aspenreynolds

"For sure." Yeah right. Not that she'd be rude on Asher's day, but Aspen had never cared but about Claude one way or the other outside of the damage she'd caused them and Ashton all those years ago. No, she was here for Asher and for Hattie and that was all that matter. Really, in that moment it was all she had the focus for.

"Nope. Neither of you tells me anything anymore." The look that followed as pointed, brows lifted as she tapped her cup on his just a teeny bit harder than she really needed to.

For once the twinge of jealousy that twisted her insides was ignored, the tender bruise of her lack of her own love life now denied it's usual resulting outburst because it wouldn't suit the time, place, nor occasion. "I'm stuck all the way out there in Rome and all these huge things are happening and no one tells me anything. When your entire world changes, Asher, you tell your best friends about it. Especially me! I have been the biggest advocate for the SS.Hater since, oh, only forever."

stoneasher

asher tilted his head, eyes flicking from aspen’s cup to her face. that tap had been a little harder than friendly. at first, he tried to read it as a joke. maybe aspen being aspen. sharp around the edges, dramatic when she wanted attention, the kind of person who could make a toast sound like a threat if she was in the right mood, but the look on her face did not feel playful. his gaze shifted briefly to harriet, then back to aspen. was she mad? jealous? hurt? he could not get a clean read on her, and that made something in his chest tighten. “maybe we didn’t want to talk about it, aspen,” he said, trying to keep his voice even.

until recently, he had barely talked about it at all. not clearly. not in a way that did anyone any good. that was part of what had blown up with ezra this week, wasn’t it? keeping things too close. letting silence become confusion. letting confusion become hurt. it had forced him to make a choice and he had, but he was not announcing that in the middle of a festival food line because aspen had decided to poke at him with a plastic cup.

then she said she had been rooting for them, and asher actually laughed. not because it was funny, but because he was startled. “you have?” his spine straightened a little as he looked at her, waiting for the punchline. waiting for her face to shift into something teasing, something exaggerated, something he could roll his eyes at and move on from, but she looked serious. completely serious. the humor drained from his eyes. “oh,” he said, jaw setting. “was that before, during, or after you texted me to come to rome to fuck you?” the words landed harder than he meant them to, but once they were out, he did not take them back.

his grip tightened around his cup. “because as such a big advocate for us, and as someone who’s apparently so happy for their friends, i’m not sure where that fits.” his voice lowered, but it did not soften. “especially because if you’re my best friend, like you keep saying you are, then you should know me better than that.” asher’s eyes stayed on hers now, hurt and anger mixing in a way he clearly did not know what to do with. “you know for a fact i don't do that, so you did it for what? to get a rise out of me when i didn't do anything? or to hurt hattie?" his gaze hardened thinking about aspen hurting harriet. "either way, how fucking shitty of a best friend to do."

#( asher x aspen )#aspenreynolds #( aspen: 003 )#oops you made him mad

harrietmclaughlin

history and english. it made sense, in the same way that the states might have impacted the sound that was emanating from the stage. something more than the technical knowledge of the instruments, created by the backgrounds of the people. it wasn't just the notes, it was what they sounded like when they worked together. though really, she didn't know anything more than that she did like it. they sounded good live, in the middle of the crowd. she liked being able to find the answer to any other question she might have had about the change in songs.

even though, it was clear asher was busy, he stayed by her side, letting her track the rhythms through the way he shifted, the loose motions that seemed to always predict the next riff of a song. his movements natural and easy in a way that she didn't know she'd ever felt. and then he kissed her hand again, asked to show her something upstairs. she could feel the pit suddenly back in her stomach, the pinched nerve of uncertainty at how warm she felt in the moment with a comfort in her hand that she had yet to fully understand. how it slowly drained as he turned to her at the end of the set and asked for her to go upstairs.

her nod was simple, trying not to rush to any judgement, though it certainly crept up waiting in the back of her mind. she didn't even know if the second floor was empty, until she saw the mural, the couch, the scattered remains of what had been people. now it was theirs alone, and doubled again, secured by the locks on the studio doors closing behind them. if he wanted privacy, he'd found it. if she knew what it was for, then she wouldn't have been stood in the middle of the room, her hands waiting at her sides. there was no cue for her to follow, she only watched him turn the boards on with his back to her.

his words took time to reach her, building up with extra details that he always added. as though he was trying to pad the world around her before telling her what he really wanted her to know. an extra precaution that she'd started to associate with care, because he did care. she reminded herself those words as though they would do anything to prevent whatever was coming next as he faced her.

she knew there had been a secret somewhere in the years that asher was gone. she'd tried to run at it directly, assuming a break-up, a fight, boredom, losing money. she pried at first, because she hadn't cared if it hurt. she'd only wanted the satisfaction of knowing that she was right. travel the world and back again to find that carroll contained just as much and as little as anywhere else. but eventually, she'd stopped trying. she'd let him have his peace in exchange for the smaller moments of what their relationship had become. the brisk closeness they'd slipped into when no one else was sitting on this second floor to watch them.

and now there was still that bitter twist. she was right. there had been a reason she could solve, a secret she could pull out of him. he'd played it so close to his chest, unlike her who told him one of the simplest things about herself because she'd had too much champagne. she'd spilled arson, loneliness, nothing at all. if it had all stopped there, if she had learned this a month prior, who knew what she might have done with it.

a four year relationship, falling in love with someone brilliant and magnetic. rowan, who changed the tenor of a room by walking into it. she imagined the void in her where something would crack open, and declare her own thoughts sharp and to the point. but now, right now, she was looking at asher, the obvious hurt that already bloomed with every relived detail that he added to the story. there was no draw to that old habit, pressing on the bruises that revealed themselves. she'd spent so long searching out the matching wound in people, trying to find her pair. it'd never gotten her close to any answer. so, she stayed silent. she stayed still, she let him continue from luminous start to bitter sudden end.

a car accident. she'd worked on those, removed the glass from peoples' loved ones, catalogued the damage that could be done in a sheer matter of seconds. she had typed up the words that asher stated now, signed over belongings and moving on with her day. the standard questions pushed through now: who was driving? who was at fault? the neat boxes to check and the diagrams that were ready to be drawn on. her work could protect her from some of the surprise, it could temper her reaction to the story, but it couldn't help what happened to him next.

because there was no timeline for grief. people still showed up at the police station, at the medical center, to yell, to rage, to cry. demand answers, get one last memory even if it never existed at all. two years was nothing when it was someone who mattered, who was really truly loved. she'd done so much work to see if such a feeling could be numbed, if there was a way to understand loss. whether through the lens of the clinical or something else that she couldn't think of on her own. it still didn't lessen seeing it across from her now, hearing the same beats played out in an echo of the past.

she nodded, a tremble in her chin as she tried to process the turn which brought them into this building. not just responding to his sadness, how he wanted her to meet someone who existed to her only in the quiet words of this room. but her own at the sudden depth of how much she cared that it hurt this much, too. how he'd fought to get back to the version of himself that was in front of her now, even if it took years to do it, even if no one else knew. an asher stone could share a secret with harriet mclaughlin of all people, and know that she was going to keep it. that she would stand across the room from him and listen to each step in the journey without interrupting, fighting, her weapons laid down.

her words wouldn't have made a difference, she couldn't bring rowan back. the best, the only, thing to do was acknowledge grief where it was. she could feel the tremor in her hands at the sudden desire to do something more. but wiping away tears wouldn't remove the feeling, saying some platitude would ring hollow immediately. this wasn't a sympathy card, it was asher's life. one which she now knew better than most. one which would be missing a piece forever that she could never fully understand, but she could grow around knowing.

the reasons for the shop wasn't just the music itself, the records, the stage. it was the hope that there was a love story, not a ghost story, to be found after everything that had happened. the weight of such hope was in the room, the tears that slipped down his face, continued to punctuate what it had been to carry it without sharing. death happened, and happened, and those who stayed living— what could they do? they endured and endured, and set a new frequency for the future.

she looked at his hand, the movement pulling her attention away from his face. she still hadn't said anything, hadn't moved. there was an influx in every direction, of every emotion, all there for her to process. he had loved and lost, and drank and wanted to die. and she had been down the block, up the street, she'd been creating a place to belong, though that didn't sound right either. but she wanted it to be, she so desperately wanted to be something good for this moment that she believed him.

"i can do that." she said finally, her voice soft, cracked from where she'd been holding on to the emotion of what he'd told her, nothing careful in the expression that found him. it was all just as raw as her words in the cascade of emotions from what was being asked of her. because he'd asked this before. you can say something, sing something, threaten someone— whatever she'd wanted, waiting to be captured. and she hadn't then. she'd refused point blank, unable to see through the request for what it had been. what it now was.

she wrapped her arms around him, hugging with a fierceness of someone who didn't know the gesture well, but wanted to give it all the same. as if it could convey half of how sorry she felt that he'd spent every conversation with her keeping all of this pushed down. every time she'd taken a careless jab, not knowing, not realizing, and he smiled back at her all the same. her cheek rested against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart which kept on steady and sure.

it nearly swallowed her voice against the fabric of his shirt as she said, "the store is perfect." dream, memory, tribute. something pulled together from the sheer vibrancy of loving so hard, and being loved right back. she couldn't say what rowan would or wouldn't have liked, she didn't know the vision between two artists with any clarity. she only knew what she felt now, with tears and truth, and the quiet of the booth still keeping them safe. "it's the perfect home."

stoneasher

“really?” asher’s face lit up when harriet said yes. not just politely. not casually. it opened across him, bright and stunned and almost boyish, like he had not fully let himself believe she would agree until the word was actually out of her mouth. she would be on the song. her voice, her story, whatever piece of herself she wanted to give him, woven into the track with everyone else he loved in carroll. everyone who had helped bring him back. when asher returned months ago, he had felt like a half-remembered version of himself. like the person who came back to carroll was wearing his face and using his name, but something important had been left behind somewhere overseas, in studios and hotel rooms and grief he still could not always look at directly.

he had not found his way back alone. he had done it little by little, through his friends. through claude sleeping upstairs and helping make the shop real. through fitz sitting with him in the booth while rowan’s voice filled the room. through ashton showing up with coffee and pastries. through every person who had heard him say he wanted to build a record shop and studio, and instead of questioning it, simply asked what they could do. they were not just his friends. they were family and for the first time in a long time, asher was glad he was here. not just alive. not just surviving. here, in this room, in this town, in this life that had somehow kept unfolding after he thought the worst thing that could happen had already ended him.

when harriet hugged him, asher wrapped his arms around her immediately. the emotion he had been holding in his chest spread through him all at once, warm and aching and impossible to contain. he felt the way she squeezed him, heard the softness in her voice when she complimented the shop, and his heart thudded harder like she had reached inside him and touched something directly. he kept his arms around her for a moment longer. downstairs, the next band had started. the vibrations traveled up through the floorboards, faint and steady beneath their feet, a pulse under the quiet of the production booth.

asher pulled back from the hug, but not far. his arms stayed around her. for a second, he only looked at her. his heartbeat picked up as his gaze moved over her face. the slight furrow between her brows. the mouth that had ruined him more than once already. the softness she did not offer easily, but had somehow let him see. the way she looked at him now, close enough that the rest of the world felt muffled behind the walls. his face flushed. he cared about her so much it scared him.

more than a friend. more than an old crush. more than some unfinished thing from high school that had followed him home. his feelings had been complicated for both of them, tangled up in timing and fear and ezra and silence and all the things asher had kept too close to his chest because naming them meant he could lose them, but he did not want to keep this close anymore. he wanted her to know. he had chosen her.

he opened his mouth, ready to tell her he had spoken to ezra. that he had ended it. that he could not keep standing halfway between two people when it was harriet he thought about when he woke up, harriet he wanted to tell things to, harriet whose voice he wanted on the song, harriet who had somehow inspired him to finish a mural before she even knew she was part of it, but then she was right there.

her scent filled his lungs, soft and familiar and devastating. close enough that he could not smell the dust of the records or the old wood or the warm electric hum of the studio equipment. only her. only harriet. his gaze caught hers. something low and warm pulled tight in his stomach and whatever sentence he had been about to say disappeared. asher leaned down and kissed her. he did not ask this time. he knew he should have. he usually did. he liked asking. he liked giving her the choice out loud because harriet deserved to have one, but this kiss slipped past his restraint, urgent and heated, his mouth finding hers like he had been holding himself back for weeks and his body had finally decided it was done being patient. he hoped she would forgive him for that.

his arms tightened around her waist as he walked her backward, slow enough to let her stop him if she wanted to, but sure enough that his want was impossible to miss. when her back met the wall of the production booth, asher followed, pressing in close until she was caught between the wall and the length of him. he braced one hand beside her head, then the other, caging her in without trapping her. giving her space to move. giving her the chance to push him away. praying she wouldn’t.

he kissed her like he had been starving for it. like every almost, every wait, every look she had ever given him had been stored somewhere inside his ribs and was now trying to break free. his mouth moved against hers with a kind of reverence that did nothing to soften the heat of it. if anything, it made it worse. made it deeper. made it feel like wanting her was not separate from caring about her, but part of the same impossible ache, but his hands stayed on the wall. not on her. not yet.

and that was the thing that finally pulled a rough sound from the back of his throat, because it was not enough. kissing her was not enough when she was this close, when her body was warm against his, when he could feel every breath she took and still wanted more. he wanted—

god, he wanted.

asher broke the kiss just enough to breathe. his forehead hovered near hers, his lips still close enough to brush hers when he spoke. his eyes were dark, his voice lower than before, rough around the edges with the effort it took to hold himself still. “can i touch you, please?” one of his hands curled slightly against the wall beside her head, like he had to physically stop himself from reaching for her before she answered.

his gaze searched hers, open and hungry and heartbreakingly earnest all at once. “tell me yes,” he whispered, breath warm against her mouth. “or tell me no, and i’ll stop.” a beat. his voice softened, but the want in it did not. “i just need to hear you say it, hattie.”

#( asher x harriet )#harrietmclaughlin #( harriet: 008 )#the glow in this gif is how he feels inside

eviescore

Evie laughed, the sound easy and bright, shaking her head as she followed his glance around the shop. ❝ Only four times? Wow. Look at you, embracing restraint. I'm so proud. ❞ Her smile lingered, softer this time, because she did know how impossible this had felt in the beginning. She remembered the semi-empty space, the ideas and whether anyone would actually come. She knew people would, without a doubt for Asher. It was Asher. Now the place buzzed with conversation, people flipping through records like it had always existed. ❝ It stopped being a miracle the second you refused to quit on it. Everyone else just helped you get to opening day. ❞

His nudge earned him a playful bump back. ❝ Oh, a discount? I feel so honoured to be part of your elite customer loyalty program. ❞ She wandered toward one of the bins, fingers idly flipping through the sleeves before looking back over her shoulder with a grin. ❝ But if you try to give me one for free because we're friends, I'm putting cash in some kind of tip jar when you're not looking. This place deserves customers, not freeloaders. But definitely American Heartbreak by Zach Bryan or Rumours by Fleetwood Mac that's been catching my eye. ❞

stoneasher

asher nodded, looking far too proud of himself when evie congratulated him on the restraint it took not to reorganize the records for a fifth or sixth time. honestly, it had been difficult. he had carried so much nervous energy in his body before the shop opened that he had not known what to do with himself. apparently, what he did with himself was rearrange the same bins over and over again until claude probably considered staging an intervention. but after the fourth time, asher had decided this was the best possible organization. hopefully.

his gaze moved around the shop, landing on his friends one by one. all of them scattered through good frequency, talking and laughing and helping make the place feel less like a business and more like something alive. evie was right. he had needed them. maybe more than he had realized. he had needed every person who showed up, every hand that helped, every voice that told him he could do this when his own nerves got too loud. “i know i couldn’t have done it without everyone else,” he said, softer now. “my friends are truly the most important people to me.” then he looked back at evie, grin returning as he gave her a wink. “you’re included in that, by the way.”

he followed her to one of the bins, watching with interest as she flipped through the records and considered what she might spend her discount on. asher could not help laughing when she threatened him with a tip. “fine, fine,” he said, lifting his hands in surrender. “but you’re getting the discount.” when she narrowed it down, he glanced between the two records and nodded thoughtfully. “oh, those are both good choices.” he made a face like this required serious professional consideration, then tapped the fleetwood mac record. “i’d have to give it to fleetwood mac, though. that’s more my vibe than zach bryan.” his grin tilted warm and decisive. “so, as your very qualified record store owner and personal music consultant, i think you should get rumours.”

#( asher x evie )#eviescore #( evie: 002 )

harrietmclaughlin

waiting— certainly she’d done that. an easy week of painting, a cold week of indecision. here now, an answer to the question that she didn’t need to ask. he’d had to take time, consider options which included her. no matter how many times jack tried to insist that there was no choice at all, it hadn’t been the truth. it was difficult, yes. it had been nauseating to think that she had finally realized what she wanted, only for it to be too late. he might not have needed to hear thank you, but she had to say it nevertheless. a balance restored, an apology that she waved away the same.

she felt the warmth of his touch on his skin, the easy immediate reaction that she could feel low in her stomach. it wasn’t too late. it was the promise fulfilled, because she’d asked for the do-over. and it was her, her, her. her, who’s face he was tracing over, her barely there restraint as she tried to be patient, instead of leaning in immediately at the sight of his eyes lingering on her mouth. her answer was immediate again, sure and confident, “of course.”

stoneasher

there was no hesitation this time. the second she said yes again, asher leaned in and kissed her. his arms wrapped around her waist, drawing her closer until there was barely any space left between them. he kissed her like the answer had loosened something in his chest, like he had been waiting too long already and did not want to waste another second pretending he could be calm about harriet mclaughlin saying yes to him.

asher was sure he could never get tired of this. not if he got to kiss her once. not if he got to kiss her a hundred times. not if he spent the rest of his life learning every way her mouth could soften against his. the warmth in his chest spread through him, glowing and ridiculous, and when he finally pulled back, he only went far enough to rest his forehead against hers. his eyes were bright as they searched her face, dancing with that impossible happiness he could not seem to hide from her anymore. “and,” he murmured, still a little breathless, “i think i have the perfect idea for our date.”

TIME SKIP! - two days later

asher had picked harriet up on his motorcycle and refused to tell her where they were going. not because he wanted to be annoying, but because he wanted it to be a surprise. a good one. something that felt like her, or at least the version of her he had been lucky enough to see in flashes. sharp edges, hidden tenderness, all that feeling she kept tucked away until it had nowhere else to go. he hoped she liked it.

he also drove them out of town on purpose. the last thing he wanted was for their first date to end up on the tea before they had even made it back to his bike. carroll had too many eyes, too many mouths, too many people who thought seeing two people together meant they were entitled to every detail. asher wanted this to be theirs for a little while. just theirs. so he took them to the next decent-sized city, weaving through unfamiliar streets until he finally parked the bike outside a nondescript building that looked, from the outside, like it could have been anything. storage units. an escape room. an accounting office with questionable signage.

asher cut the engine, pulled off his helmet, and grinned at her. “i know it doesn’t look like much,” he said, holding out his hand to help her off the bike, “but just wait.” once the motorcycle was secured, he kept her hand in his and led her toward the door. inside, the building was much louder than it looked. distant crashes echoed from somewhere down the hall, followed by laughter, the shatter of glass, and the unmistakable sound of someone taking a baseball bat to something breakable. several rooms branched off from the main lobby, each one muffled behind heavy doors but not enough to hide the chaos inside.

at the front desk, a bright sign read: smash your heart out! rage rooms! asher glanced at it, then back at harriet, his smile turning hopeful and a little proud of himself. “i got us our own room,” he said. his thumb brushed over her hand. “private. no audience. no one from carroll. just us and a bunch of stuff we’re legally allowed to destroy.”

#harrietmclaughlin #( asher x harriet )#( harriet: 009 )

defendingtheice

Even with just a small third party glimpse, there was enough love overflowing to graze over him as well, "I wish I had the privilege to meet him in person, but this is certainly the next best thing." To be a loving memory of the person who loved you the most, Ash doesn't take those memories lightly. "If you ever think about him, and wanna share.. I'm always happy to hear." Ash offered, grief came in waves, nothing will ever cure it, it'll live with them forever, but he can try to make it easier when the wave does come crashing through. "The other band members are coming, right? I'm looking forward to hearing more stories of Rowan from them too."

He hummed and pretended to ponder for a long long time as if debating all of his siblings and family members of the Stone family before finally shaking his head decisively, "nope, still my favorite Stone." He felt like with the age differences he's always more of know of his siblings rather than actually know them. Asher was the one he's truly known as a friend since school days. However with his lack thereof knowledge of the business, the hefty name of the family never really affected his perception of Asher. Asher was always just Asher to him, Stone was never a factor in this friendship. "Aw thanks," Ash grinned genuinely as a warmth grows from simply hearing that, it was simple, but it meant a lot, "glad that I don't have other Ryder siblings to fight for the spot." Ruth was a sibling through and through but it made no sense to have to legally change her name unless she had wanted to.

A sigh escaped knowing Asher had caught it and won't let it go. He should not have drunk so much, the whiskey bottle halfway through and he was really feeling the effects of the neat shot earlier. "Well- ..you already seen my biggest heartbreak so far," Ash sulked like a child, his friends had probably seen the worst of him before, and he's been trying to move past that, never go back there. ..if things fall apart he doesn't want to go back there. Ash only replied to the question with a turn of his head to a side, cheek on his folded arms to avoid eye contact, he won't be able to say no to his friends if he had to look them in the eye, especially Asher when he came to him with that much sincerity and concern. He knew his friend meant well, alcohol clouding his judgement on the decision, and also slowing down his decision making skills.

He only looked up to Asher when his friend spoke again with a gentle push, blues deepen and watery when they flickered back to the other who had stopped painting. Still, he had the ability to make Ashton laugh, sitting back up straight, "soundproofing walls for the studio right? Smart," he chuckled and drank more from his glass, taking the long silence as if mentally preparing to say a thought he hasn't ever spoken into existence before, those were the scariest ones.

"I'm scared March is starting to regret it."

The words came out so softly, almost inaudibly even, scared to believe it now that it's left his head. He didn't even know where to go from that admission, how to elaborate, what he even meant by that. "I- I don't know, I didn't really see it before, but I think the whole Britney thing, and the NHL, and the forced outing- something's changed." He shook off the thoughts and reached over for the whiskey bottle nearby to them now, "I don't know what but- I just.. really don't know."

stoneasher

asher’s face brightened when ashton said he wouldn’t mind hearing about rowan. not for the first time, asher was struck by how glad he was to have ashton in his life. and he knew ashton was not just being polite. he was not offering because it was the kind thing to do or because grief made people awkward. he genuinely wanted to hear about rowan. that was nice. no, more than nice. it was healing, in a way asher had not expected. to be able to say rowan’s name out loud and have someone lean in instead of flinch. to talk about him like he had been real and brilliant and loved, not just tragic. “yeah, they are,” asher said, his smile turning bright and earnest. “you’ll like them.” and he meant it. he missed pale harbor more than he had let himself admit. he did not know their new lead singer well yet, but he was excited to. excited to hear them again. excited to be around people who had known rowan as something other than a ghost in asher’s chest.

he decided not to mention rowan’s parents. not now. not when the mood had softened into something almost joyful. they were not coming. he knew that. the phone call had made that painfully clear. asher had gone into it nervous, but hopeful and he had hung up with his face hot, his stomach tight, and the awful knowledge that they blamed him for rowan’s death sitting like a stone in his chest. he had not even known they felt that way until he called. his face warmed again at the memory and he pushed it quickly from his mind before it could drag him under.

instead, he let out a laugh at ashton’s next comment. “thanks,” he said. “i would be disappointed if i wasn’t your favorite stone.” then, because he was incapable of taking a compliment without redirecting it somewhere, he added, “although my siblings are much cooler than me.” he meant it too. seb, viv, remy. all of them. terrifyingly talented, ridiculous, brilliant people. asher loved them with his whole chest and had spent most of his life thinking they were the coolest people in any room. his grin returned, crooked and playful. “well, it is stiff competition between you and your mom, actually,” he told ashton. “but she doesn’t want to hang out with me, so you’ve got the advantage.”

asher chuckled when ashton played along with his joke about the walls, then took another drink while he waited for his friend to say whatever had been sitting heavy in him. he watched ashton gather himself. then ashton spoke, and asher’s smile faded. he had not been expecting that. ashton was scared march regretted being with him? asher’s brows pulled together, not in judgment, but in concern. the idea sounded impossible to him at first, because he had seen march look at ashton. because ashton was one of the best people he knew. because love did not always look easy, but that did not mean it was a mistake.

but ashton kept talking, and asher did not interrupt. he only moved closer, sitting down in front of him so ashton would not have to say any of it across the room. so he would know asher was there. really there. when ashton finished, asher stayed quiet for a moment. he wanted to say the right thing. wanted to fix it, if fixing it was possible. wanted to hand ashton something solid enough to hold onto, but the only thing that came to him first was a question, so he asked it gently. “have you talked to him about this?”

#defendingtheice #( asher x ashton )#( ashton: 005 )

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