congrats ash :)

sevianfrangipane: In 2012 you graduated high school. Shortly after you came up with this idea, this plan, this dream that seemed so out of reach that taking it serious was hard. Fast forward 5 years (3 in the business) and you’ve accomplished so so much. Thank you for being such an amazing friend and role model and it’s nice to know my sister has the number 1 album in the world right now. Beyond proud of you ash. Congrats and here’s to #1

“A Little Party Never Killed Nobody...”

@amusewonderland continued from x

“….” He paused as he moved, his actions slow, methodical.. He was.. strange.. His back rested to the other a while before pulling the ropes a bit tighter, ensuring he could struggle and loosen them enough to slip out. He’d returned to Haruhiko.. They hadn’t seen each other in.. years… Azami hadn’t aged a day. What had changed.. something about him.

 He’d been friendly, catching up, swapping stories and drinking as they used to do it hadn’t seemed strange.. till Haruhiko woke up.. bound.. tied up.. somewhere.. it looked like some abandoned basement.. there was hints of someone living on an old mattress in the corner and an array of garbage littering the place. mostly empty bags and boxes.. cans.. food.. not enough to feed someone but.. enough to keep them alive… 

Once he was satisfied the other was secure to the pipe behind him he seemed to wander back enough to sit down, cross legged in front of the other. His eyes– oh gods– Like glowing orbs.. they hadn’t looked like this yesterday… what the hell happened to him?

“Exactly as I said, Hiko-chan… I’m not letting you go.” He spoke so dryly, empty in comparison to the night before, laughing along and trying to dance with the other… repeatedly. He’d seemed like himself before but now.. now it was like Azami wasn’t actually there to begin with..  “You’ll stay here… with me.” He watched him, eyes shimmering with no clear sign as to where he was looking… “want some pudding?” 

Greek Week-Part Four

A/N: So I hit 6k! To celebrate I’m posting a part tonight and tomorrow! Hope you enjoy this part, thanks for all the feedback on the others!

Prologue, Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Epilogue

word count: 1449

The text was waiting for you when you woke the next morning.

Please tell me I didn’t blow my trial x

You smiled, typing out your response that he had nothing to worry about before getting out of bed, moving to grab your clothes before your phone ringing interrupts you.

“Morning Sunshine.” You sing down the phone, the answering groan from Calum making you laugh. “I look forward to hearing all about your outstanding poetry later.”

“You’re not going to be there?” You don’t miss the disappointment in his tone, despite the fact your phone is hanging precariously between your ear and your shoulder as you rifled through your wardrobe.

“I’ve got the Maths Race.” His sigh shows you he understands, but you can tell he’s still unhappy. “Someone has to show Luke he isn’t God’s gift to the mathematics world.”

“True. Although I do need him to beat you.” Calum chuckles, the sound bringing another smile to your face at the prospect he’d cheered up. “Guess I can always read it to you later?”

“Sounds like a date.” You agree. “I’ve got to get ready, don’t cry too much when you lose later.”

“Don’t take it too personally when you only get second place.”

You hang up with a roll of your eyes, throwing your phone back on your bed. As you got ready however, you couldn’t stop thinking about how dejected Cal had sounded on realising you wouldn’t hear him at the Poetry Slam, and it made you wonder why it was so important to you that he heard it.

Most of Omega Chi were already out of the house when you left, scattered around campus at their various competitions. The maths race only required one competitor from each house, but Sara and Orla had accompanied you for support, neither of them being part of the day’s activities. You separated once you reach the building, the other two heading for the spectators’ seats whilst you registered and headed to the competitors area.

“Y/N.” Luke grins, dropping into the chair beside yours, the Alpha Sigma Phi hat on his head reminding you Calum’s was still in your room. You were waiting for the divisions to be announced, the room full of chatter. “Ready to lose?”

“You know Hemmings, arrogance doesn’t become you.” He snorts as you turn to face him, his own snapback reminding you that Calum’s was still in your room. “How’s your head?”

“Fine and dandy.” He smirks. “Can’t say the same for your boyfriend.”

“He isn’t my boyfriend.” You repeat last night’s words, and Luke’s smirk only grows before he does the same.

“Not yet.”

The announcements start then, and you’re distracted by the competition. Luke moves off to his own heat, sending you a wink as he does. You both win each heat from that moment, moving forward in your divisions and closer to the final. Maths had always been your strong point, even from a young age. Doing the formulas and calculations today didn’t faze you, racing through them each time with a smug grin as you hit the stop on your timer. No one was surprised that the final ended up being you verses Luke, excited murmurs rippling through the crowd about who would win.

You got it a fraction of a second before he did.

The cheer was closer to a roar as it was announced you were correct. Luke rolled his eyes playfully before shaking your hand, muttering about lucky breaks. You wink at him before going to find your sisters, his grin showing you his ego wasn’t bruised too badly.

Rox hadn’t been so lucky.

Apparently Calum hadn’t been joking when he’s said being hung over would give him the advantage. According to Gemma, everyone had been speechless for a good two minutes when he’d finished. It wasn’t a secret Calum wrote poetry, but it was rare anyone heard it. The way everyone was reacting just brought your thought from earlier this morning back to the forefront of your mind; why was it so important you heard what Cal had written?

You didn’t have to wait long to find out.

He called you less than an hour after you’d returned home, as soon as the results had been announced and you’d discovered O Chi were back in the lead. Calum begrudgingly congratulated you before inviting you over to the Alpha Sig house, and you promised you’d be over soon. The following day was the Greek Olympics, and you needed to ensure that your sorority was prepared. Once however, you were satisfied with your preparations, you bid farewell to your sisters and left for the biggest frat house on campus.

“Evening Y/N.” Ashton grinned as he answered the door, gesturing for you to enter. “Congrats on today.”

“Thanks Ash.” You smiled at the art major. Ashton and Roxana had been friends with benefits for nearly a year, and you were more than used to the golden eyed senior. “I hear you deserve congratulations too.”

“It was just a painting.” He shrugs, referring to his piece which had won the Art Show earlier. “Is Rox in?”

“Yeah, she’s free.” You roll your eyes when he winks at you, waving before heading out the door. “Hey! Where’s Cal?”

“Here, Angel.” You spin to find the Maori boy at the bottom of the stairs, arms folded across his chest with a smirk. “Ash off to see Rox?”

“Who else?” You grin, taking his outstretched hand and letting him pull you into his chest. His other hand laces your fingers together as you raise your feet to stand on your toes, brushing your lips against his. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He hums back, lips chasing yours for another kiss. You smile against him, eyes fluttering shut briefly before he pulls back again. “Want a drink?”

“I’m good.” You assure him, Calum grinning at you again before leads you up the stairs. A flash of blonde hair catches the corner of your eye, and you turn your head to shout. “Hey Luke!”

“Hey Y/N! You kids have fun now!”

Calum rolls his eyes, tugging you into his room. Your eyes wander briefly, noting the various posters that littered the walls and the trophies and photos that filled his shelves. His hand drops yours as he goes to close his door, and you run your fingers along his desk before you notice an instrument in the corner.

“You play bass?” You ask, turning to look at him surprised. He shrugs, nodding before sitting back on his bed. You go to sit beside him, but he pulls you into his lap instead, however you place your fingers on his lips before he can kiss you. “I was promised poetry.”

He rolls his eyes, one hand falling from your hip to grab a notebook from his bedside table. He thumbs through the worn pages before finding the most recent entry, eyes darting up to yours briefly and tongue swiping along his bottom lip before he begins.

“I want to breathe you in like a vapour, I want to be the one you remember. I want to feel your love like the weather, all over me, all over me. I want to print our hands in the pavement, savour your words I won’t ever waste them. Look in your eyes and know just what you meant, so lie to me. Just lie to me.”

You daren’t say anything when he finishes, not wanting to break the moment he’d just created. You knew Calum was good at poetry, everybody knew that. It was just you had no idea he was able to cause such raw emotion to stir up inside you; no idea that he was able to paint a scene so beautiful with his words. So instead of responding, you just stare at him in awe, Calum’s eyes still locked on his notebook.

“You hate it, don’t you?” Calum’s words shock you, and you have to take his face in your hands to force him to look at you.

“Cal…you…it…I…” Your thoughts were scrambled as you desperately tried to tell him what you felt, each second watching his fear grow. “You wrote that when you were hungover?”

“No. Not that one. I’ve had that one written for a while. It’s alright if you hate it, I don’t mind-“

You cut him off by smashing your lips to his, stopping him from his self-depreciating speech. Calum automatically responds, throwing the notebook back onto the bedside table as his hands grab your sides to pull you closer. He hums against your lips, and you playfully bite his bottom lip when you pull away, Calum’s lips twitching up into a smile.

“It was beautiful.”

anonymous asked:

HIII ASH CONGRATS ON BECOMING AN ADMIN I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE YOUR WORK AND TO HEAR THINGS FROM YOU! NICE MEETING YOU!! -[Insert nickname] anon

AHHHHH THANK YOU SUPER NICE ANON I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE MY WORK EITHER (Cause I’ve just spent 30 minutes drawing a face !) BUT SUPER NICE MEETING YOU !!

- ash

Crying (Ashton)

MASTERLIST

idontneedaprincecharming said: “wHeRE iS ThE Ashton vErsIoN oF cRyINg i NeED iT pLEaSe”

hello dear friend I love your username! and yes, I’ll write it for you!! xx

idk if you’ve seen the movie “whiplash” but I got inspiration from there (it’s amazing and I recommend you to watch it as soon as possible)

the other boys’: CALUM  LUKE  MICHAEL

______________________


You always knew that Ashton wanted to be the best drummer in the world when he was growing up and you also knew that he was talented and that if he really wanted something then he would do absolutely anything until he got it. You’ve been friends with Ashton since childhood, and you can remember when he got his frist ever drum kit on his seventh birthday and how happy he got. Though it wasn’t until years later that things got serious. You knew that it took a lot of practise to get where Ashton wanted to be, you just didn’t know how much practise it would take and that something as silly as an object, a thing, could come between your alive, living friendship. 

“Ashton? Are you home?” You call out and your voice echoes in the big, seemingly empty house. He hadn’t answered the door when you knocked, but after noticing that the door was open you let yourself in. 

You toe your shoes off by the front door before you walk further into the house. You stop for a second when you recognize the familiar sound of distant thuds. Of course, he’s drumming.

You sigh and walk toward the stairs that lead down to the basement where he keeps his drum kit. His parents had made the entire floor soundproof so he had somewhere to drum without driving anyone insane. He used to have the drums in his bedroom but it didn’t take more than a couple of days before his father had threatened to throw them out the window if he didn’t stop making so much ‘noise’. Almost every person in the whole neighborhood had complained.

As soon as you open the door to the basement your hands fly to your ears. He is sitting in the corner behind his drums, eyes closed and sweat dripping down his forehead. His hair is plastered to his skin and you can see him counting to himself as he hits the drums. He is playing so fast that you can barely even distinguish his hand, everything is just a blurry mess. 

“Fuck!” He suddenly yells, hitting the cymbals once really hard and you can see the drumsticks flying away in the air and land on the other side of the room not far away from you. “FUCKING SHIT!” He says, breathing heavily with his head hanging low.

“Ashton?” You say carefully, your voice sounding very quiet and pathetic compared to what the room sounded like just a minute ago.

He looks up, startled, and his eyes land on you. “Y/N? What are you- oh my god…” his eyes widen and he cuts himself off in the middle of the sentence. 

“Yep. You’ve done it again, Ash. Congrats on being the worst best friend in the history,” you say sarcastically, sighing. 

You can see him standing up and walking towards you. 

“I am so sorry, I totally forgot about you. What time is it? Did you wait for long?” He rambles out the words, a hand scratching his neck and a guilty expression on his face. 

You had decided that you were going to see the new Jurassic World movie together and that you would meet outside the theatre at eight, but Ashton didn’t show up. You are not one to be mad at someone if they’re late to a date or forgets something once or twice, but when it comes up to five, six, seven times you can’t help but be a little tired of getting ditched all the time. 

“It’s ten,” you say without meeting his eyes. 

“Shit, that’s like… two hours? Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he apologizes and reaches a hand out for you. “I was drumming and I just can’t get the right tempo, and I guess I just lost track of-”

“Jesus, Ashton you’re bleeding!” You exclaim suddenly, grabbing his hand but he quickly pulls it away from you. 

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” he mumbles, hiding his hands behind his back. 

“What do you mean, nothing? Your hands are bleeding, you’re not fine. Maybe you should take a break from the drumming for a while and-”

“What? No, I can’t do that. You know I can’t do that,” he protests. “You don’t get it, I need to get the tempo right or he will kill me. You know that we have that competition with the band next week, I can’t fuck up,” he explains frantically, looking more and more frustrated as he slowly backs away from you. 

“Okay, I’m sorry, Ash. I know how important this is for you and I’m here to support you, always, but not if it’s risking your own health. I won’t just stand by and watch while you hurt yourself,” you state. He has become so different since he started drumming on this level, since he got a place in that stupid, fancy, band on that stupid, fancy school with all those stupid, fancy kids. He always forgets things, he loses his temper more than often, has lost tons of weight, he always looks like he hasn’t slept in a month and now that you think of it, he always has bandages on his hands. He is not the same Ashton anymore. 

“Then don’t,” he says. 

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t stand by then. I’m not forcing you to be here or look after me. You can’t stop me or decide what I can or can’t do. Or what’s a ‘risk’ for my health. Get out of here if it doesn’t please you anymore.” He says it like it was the easiest thing is the world like he doesn’t care at all. “I didn’t even want to see that stupid movie. Go get yourself some friends and leave me alone.” He turns his back to you and walks over to the drum kit again. “Now if you would excuse me…” He says, looking between you and the door. 

Ouch

“Fuck you,” you say before you turn around and leave through the same door you had just walked in through, making sure to slam it shut. 

-

It’s been a week since you heard from Ashton and tonight is that competition he’s been talking about for months. The one he’s been practising so hard for. 

You shouldn’t care. You really shouldn’t. Especially not after how he treated you last week. But no matter how much you really shouldn’t care, you find yourself not being able to focus or concentrate on what’s on the tv screen late at night because you keep wondering how it went. If they won and if he managed to get the tempo right. Nothing Gordon Ramsey says makes sense and it doesn’t matter how many cups of coffee you have, your head doesn’t get any clearer.

Later when you have shut the tv off after giving up on getting your mind on other things, and you are just about to head towards your bedroom, you hear a faint knock on your door. 

Your parents have taught you not to open the door to strangers late at night, especially when you’re home alone, but even before you look through the peep-hole you know who it is, and it is far from a stranger. 

“I fucked up,” is the first thing that he says as soon as you open the door. His head is hanging low and the night is dark and cold behind him. 

You step aside without saying a word and open the door for him, waiting for him to step in before you close and lock the door. 

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, “I’m so, fucking, sorry…” 

Blood is covering his palms and there is some on his neck and arms too, but you guess that’s from his hands. 

“It’s alright,” you say and grab his wrist, “I forgive you.”

You pull him with you to the bathroom to clean his wounds. He sits down on the toilet lid while you pull out the first aid kit from a cabinet. 

There lies a tension in the air between you, and apart from the sharp intakes of breath or the occasional hissing from Ashton, it is completely silent. 

You sit down and manage to rinse his sore hands and put bandage over his wounds before he opens his mouth again. 

“Please don’t make it so easy for me. Scream at me. Punch me. Call me names. Just anything, please,” he pleads. You look up at him and meet his eyes for the first time in a week. He looks so tired, absolutely exhausted and nothing like the Ashton he used to be. 

“I’m not going to do that, Ashton. You were a dick but I forgive you because that’s what friends do,” you explain simply and stand up. You expect him to follow but he remains still. Soon his shoulders are hunching up and down and he lets out a broken sob that has your heart twisting. 

“I fucked up s-so bad, you have no idea. And now I have nothing left, everything I’ve worked for was for nothing and-”

“Shh,” you cut him off, placing a hand under his chin and making him look up at you. His eyes are blood shot and his eyelashes are spiky with tears, lips trembling. “You have me. You’ll always have me, no matter how badly you fuck up. I’ll always be here, we’ll be alright,” you say with a weak smile on your lips before gesturing, “come ‘ere.”

Ashton stands up and lets you wrap your arms around him, squeezing him tight. 

“I- I don’t des-serve you,” he stutters, pressing into your neck, sobs wrecking through his whole body and making him lean almost all of his weight on you. 

“Shut up. You’re great Ashton, you just got off track for a bit, okay? I love you and you’re going to be just fine,” you mumble reassuringly against his ear. “Come on, let’s go to the bed instead.”

You kiss his cheek once before you pull away, take his hand in yours and go towards your bedroom instead. 

“Do wanna stay the night?” You ask, turning around to see him nodding. 

“Yeah, please. If it’s not too much trouble,” he breathes out, squeezing your hand. The stream of tears is slowing down and he can finally breathe properly again.

You make sure to get another pillow and an extra blanket for him before you change into your pajamas and crawl into bed next to each other. 

“I need you to know that I’m really sorry, and that you were right from the start. I shouldn’t even have started playing the drums,” Ashton mumbles into the dark after you’ve both settled close to each other underneath the covers. 

“Don’t say that. You love drumming, and you are really good at it too. I don’t think you should stop, just maybe play less. And more for fun instead of, like, obligation,” you explain, running a hand through his curls. 

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“Either way, everything is going to work out sooner or later. You’ll be alright.”

“I know. As long as you’re here, which I know you are, I think I’ll be fine.”

Even though the lights are off and it is dark in your room, you think you can glimpse Ashton’s small smile and his twinkling eyes and that is enough to make your own lips tug upwards, knowing that your best friend is finally back and that everything will go back to how they used to be. 

_________________________

A/N: I hope you liked it! thank you for reading <3

#271: Victory (Athlete AU)

Ashton: You jump up with the rest of the crowd, cheering loudly as Ashton and the rest of his teammates rush out of the pool to form a group hug with their coach. Everyone rushes down to congratulate the team so you slowly make your way down the bleachers, letting a few people leave before Ashton spots you. He leaves his teammates and rushes towards you with a wide smile, picking you up and spinning you around as you both laugh. “I can’t believe we fucking won!” Ashton exclaims. “I’m starting to think you really are a good luck charm.” “Congrats Ash,” you roll your eyes, kissing him as he sets you back down. “I got your shirt wet,” he mumbles as he leans his forehead against yours. You look down and laugh when you see wet spots on your clothes before of Ashton and you just shrug. “It’s just water.” “Do you think I could get the rest of you wet tonight?”

Calum: You jump in your seat on the couch when you hear the front door slam, looking up to see Calum standing in the doorway of the living room with his shoulders slumped forward and an annoyed look on his face. “Bad practice?” you ask, holding out your arms as Calum drops his bag and quickly makes his way over to you. “The worst,” he groans, curling up next to you and brushing his nose against your collar bone. “It was like Oliver had never played football in his life and James was so hungover.” “What did the coach make you guys do?” you ask, urging him to continue and let it all out. “Too much,” Calum sighs. “I’m just happy I’m now. Unless you make me run; then I won’t be happy.” “Don’t worry, I won’t make you run,” you reassure him. “Do you want me to get you anything?” “Let’s just cuddle for a while,” he shakes his head. “And maybe a massage before bed please.”

Luke: “I’m nervous,” Luke quietly confessed after you ask him what was wrong. “There are a lot of good surfers out there and-” “And you’re even better,” you reassure him, taking his hands in his and smiling softly at him. “You’re going to be great, babe, trust me.” “I do trust you,” he nods. “I just don’t trust me.” “Did you wax your board?” you ask. He nods and you continue, “Did you put your wetsuit on the right way?” Luke nods again with a small smile and you end with, “Did you practice yesterday?” “Alright, I get it,” he rolls his eyes. “You’re as prepared as you can be and whatever happens- well, it happens,” you shrug. “Thanks babe,” he mumbles, kissing your cheek appreciatively. “Besides,” you smirk before he goes off to talk to some of his surfing buddies. “If you win, you won’t be the only one getting wet today, Hemmings.”

Michael: “Oh thank god,” you gasp in relief when Michael walks through the front door. “I thought you were in the hospital.” “Why would I be in the hospital?” Michael asks with a chuckle, dropping his bag before going into the kitchen with you. “I was asking your coach for updates during the boxing match and the last thing he said to me was ‘gotta go, the ambulance is here’. You need to talk to him because that is not how you end a conversation. And when I tried calling both him and you, you wouldn’t answer your phones!” “I’m sorry, darling,” Michael apologizes, bring his hand up to your cheek as he gazes at you sympathetically. “My phone died and I guess Kyle was busy. But someone in the audience passed out, that’s why the ambulance was there.” “As long as you’re not dying,” you shake your head, going off to get the first aid kit.

A/N: Tomorrow’s the last day of AU week, can you believe that? Our prom is tomorrow so it’s going to be a pretty busy day for me, but I’ll try my best to make sure tomorrow’s preference is actually uploaded tomorrow (or at least before like 1am-2am). But yeah, I hope you guys enjoyed this preference and please like it if you did, we really appreciate it. Requests are always open! -Isabelle xx