Discover Top Posts Tagged with #for jally

can someone please stop jally's raggedy ass from sending me pictures of calum at this late hour I have class tomorrow @grindingoncalumm

#for jally #pretties

“I just couldn’t hit the fucking marks, Y/N. I could not stay on beat for shit today.”

Ashton has really worked himself up, his face flushing red and his long fingers sifting through the soft, short blonde hair. His skin warms up underneath your fingertips from where they rest on his back underneath his t-shirt and he is upset. He inches away from you slightly, sliding closer to the car window and breaking contact with you.

You won’t ever admit it to him, but seeing Ashton angry, especially at himself, is one of the hardest things for you to witness. It makes your chest tight and your heart upset and you want so badly to help him and hold him and calm him down but he always gets too far into his own head you can’t even think of trying.

“Honestly, what the fuck happened today? I fucked up in the studio so badly. I don’t understand how we got anything done today because I blew it.”

“Ashton, it’s-”

“Don’t tell me it’s fucking okay, alright, Y/N? You know it isn’t so don’t tell me that bullshit.” Ashton snaps, opening the window and staring out. You don’t try to console him any further, instead opting to pull out your phone and at least try and make it back to your place without a fight with your boyfriend.

Moments pass and L.A. traffic has you backed up on the highway and Ashton keeps mumbling to himself about how upset he is and how pissed he is and all of these things and instead of your normal approach, soft words and longing looks, you reach over and feel out his hand, gripping it tightly and kissing his knuckles gently.

“I know you’re upset, baby. I get that. But you did your best, right? And it was one out of like, a million sessions in the studio. You’ll do better next time and the time after that and those are the things you should be focusing on right now. This album is going to be great and you are going to sound great on it, Ash. I know you will.”

You eye him warily and the grin on his face is a respite from his unusually cold demeanor. He unbuckles his seatbelt, giving a wary look at the Uber driver before resting his head in your lap, his eyes drifting closed as he hums softly. His fingers form their own rhythm on your thighs as the traffic picks up again.

“’M sorry I snapped at you, my love. Didn’t mean it.”

“I know you didn’t, drummer boy. Of course not.”