#also only kinda counts as a shifting diary post but again - enough

[slvtforasht0n]

Jealousy, jealousy

title inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s track on Sour

.✦ || Boyfriend!Ash x Reader

.✦ || This is your first time being a stagehand at your boyfriend and his band’s show. Even though you couldn’t watch him perform, a particular interaction between him and a female fan piqued your interest. You couldn’t help but look, ought to see what’s happening. Instead, jealousy gets the better of you once you see what’s really going on, your mood permanently shifted. At least, that’s what it felt like.

A/N: first half is highly based on that one interaction that happened in the 5SOS diaries. forever jealous of that girl lol. anyway, i hope you like what i’ve brought out for you for my first post ever. kinda always wanted a tumblr account to post every idea or blurb i get, but ya girl can be very very lazy sometimes.

inspired to write smut ever since i had wattpad. saying this loud and proud. loved duplicity, stall and malignant so there’s that random fact (turn it up for all the other harries/directioners reading this)

i don’t write that much so i’m still trying to improve wherever i need to. ps. english isn’t my first language, so if you do spot grammer/vocab mistakes, it’s not on me sista, still learning:3 sooo i guess i’ll just finish it off by saying this; sit back, relax and enjoy :^)

CONTENT WARNING: fluff & smut, praise kink, oral (m!receiving), spitting, sliiiight dirty talking

WORD COUNT: 5,2k

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As much as you hate your boyfriend in this moment— he wriggled his way to here. His hands all over your frame, reaching to every spot he can find, almost as if his hands have a mind of their own.

His kisses grow more impatient, needy and full of want. Drawing gentle circles against the small strip of bare skin on your back, making you both break the kiss apart with a small gasp.

You weren’t sure of your emotions. Did you want to continue and make him have his way with you? Or did you want to push him away and strangle the living hell out of him?

A faint whimper escapes your lips in between the kiss, his hand traveling down to the heat between your clothed legs. That feeling alone begs to differ. As much as you don’t want to admit to it. You still have that small abhor, but also intense jealousy from what happened prior to all of this.

He breaks the kiss apart, his eyes finding yours. The hazelly green forest almost dispersed into his black pupils, blown out and primed. Fuck… you think to yourself. He looks so provocatively striking, like an erotic sex-god, which is enough to drive you wild— both in a good and a bad way.

“Let me make it up to you, amore mio.” He prompts, his hands finding your waist again to pull you in closer, showing you how induced he is, the want and need inside of him written all over his face.

—

This day has been…chaotic, booked, a haywire of physical and mental exertion that drove you into madness. Almost. You only had a 20 minute break before going back to work, crew following along, five different people guffing into your earpiece that just rubs you the wrong way. Being irritated isn’t even slightly nearing to what you’re actually feeling.

Finally, you walked inside the venue, a moment of calm before the storm. Happy you can let your guard down for another minute or two. You take a deep breath, moving scenery and props along with two other crew members, joining in after your one true moment of silence.

Being a stagehand at a show of your own boyfriend is uncommon, just something you’re not really used to. You’re not sure if you’re able to keep your cool seeing Ashton on stage, beating those drums expertisely, face etched into pure concentration. You always found it to be a work of art, to see your boyfriend practicing at home or somewhere that isn’t on a stage.

But hey, you bite the bullet once it’s showtime, having to face away from the stage, meanwhile he’ll be there to steal the show.

The crew had cued that the band arrived several moments later, and as much as you want to run away to find him, you’re still stuck planning, discussing and arranging tonight’s act.

Hours have passed on and exhaustion seemed to get the better of you. The small gig now filled with a couple of thousands of fangirls, boys, moms, dads, you name it. Two thousand to be exact. You’re not sure if it makes you intrigued, or uncomfortable. Either way, you find yourself lucky you’re not in that crammed crowd.

Playing more intimate, smaller shows was out of the ordinary for the band, something they wouldn’t have done a year ago or two.

The show has started not long after, and your back is facing the stage, eyes on all of these screaming fangirls for their idols in front of them, hands in the air, phones recording, but mainly their loud screams that’s luckily muffled by your in-ears. All you could do is focus on the beat of the drums, imagining his every movement of prowess, how trickles of sweat is already forming on his forehead.

You don’t have it in you not to look, so you do. Just the smallest of sneak-peak. Though, his eyes immediately found yours, like all of his focus was on the back of your head this whole time. Your heart starts to pound faster against your chest, turning your head back to the crowd ahead. Just keep your cool… keep your cool— You have to remind yourself every minute. Or rather every second.

You’re glued to the spot, making sure everyone’s safe and sound. However, there’s a small interaction going on between a fan and… Ashton. His voice being heard through the microphone gives you some sort of solace, your focal point on every pronunciation and syllable on the words that falls from his lips.

This particular interaction is focused on the fan’s cardboard sign, stipulating that it’s her twenty first birthday and now legal to drink, suggesting Ashton a shot. They expeditiously agree and brought the stunned girl up stage. Your eyes followed hers, turning around to look at the stage ahead. You didn’t have the heart in you to dismiss this and act like nothing’s going on.

Ashton’s change of demeanour, presence next to this fan, and just the overall vibes he’s got going on throws you right off the wall. It’s like he’s throwing her a curveball of coy behaviour, something that doesn’t sit right with you. It’s either that or you’re overthinking it. But then again, you might not be, especially having your eyes glued on him right now, watching him unfold into someone he’s not.

You hate it. You hated every second of it, watching the scene ahead. She gets to be the one giving your sweaty boyfriend a hug, a prolonged hug. Sharing a shot, looking into his eyes- him looking into her eyes. It’s like hot steams are blowing out of your ears by how much you hate seeing this with your own eyes. If it were possible, you’d throw Ashton’s drum kit right to his head out of spite and anger. You can’t believe him.

You’re definitely not overthinking, since you’ve picked up on him being ‘the man of the show’. Trying to seem more charming and appealing, in all the wrong ways. You know he loves getting this type of attention, boosts his ego in the wrong way and you’d love to just kick him right in the nuts.

Once the show’s over, you’re finally in your own privacy, changing your uniform to your day to day outerwear. A knock is heard on the door, catching you out of your hazy thoughts, while also feeling jealous and incensed. You open the door and you’re immediately knocked down with a feather.

“What are you doing here?” you utter, laced in a grim tone, not expecting to see his cheery face. Ashton stands in front of you, eyebrows raised by your surprising outburst.

“Checking in on my girlfriend. What else would I be doing?” He responds nonchalantly, entering the small room without needing to ask for permission. Of course he wouldn’t.

He runs a hand through his damp curls, looking around the room before looking back to you. It’s like he struggles to read you and why you’re not responding to him, why you’re facing away from him. “Hey…” He starts off, walking up to you and placing his hands on your waist, making you turn around to face him.

You push his hands off your body almost immediately, his eyes on stalks. “Baby, what’s wrong?” he counters, his eyes searching yours.

The more he acts this oblivious, the more you want to give into the idea of kicking him in the nuts and walking out of this room. You decide to just tell him before he’s going for the the well known question ‘are you on your period?’.

“The fuck was that up stage?” you angrily mutter, crossing your arms over your chest.

He seems confused, which is one more reason to be angry at him. How can he be so painfully heedless? You desperately need to just knock some sense into that thick skull of his.

“What?” he raises his arms in an ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ motion.

“Oh, so now you’ve got memory loss? Great.” you roll your eyes, facing the other way instead of him. Again. How can a human being manage to piss you off this much? It’s inane.

“Amore… tell me.” He waits for you to say something, anything at all, but all you do is stand there and glare, causing him to take a step closer to you. “Was it the girl who I did a shot with?”

Bingo.

You can’t help but roll your eyes again, as if it wasn’t that obvious why you’d be mad at him about that in the first place.

“Oh come on… Nothing happened, alright? Just did her a favour and probably made her whole night.”

“Yeah, right.” You bite back immediately, not buying any of the bullshit he’s spitting. You can’t even look him in the eyes. You’re deranged in anger, but also so confused and hurt. He’d never gone this close to a girl before in all the months you’ve been dating, so he surely needs to understand why you’re acting the way you are.

“Why are you making a big deal out of this?” he murmurs, managing to boil your blood to the point you could burn anything you touch into ashes.

“Are you kidding me, Ash?” you poss in vexation, glaring through his soul. Words can’t express how tense you’re getting and how much you want to wipe that foolish smirk off his face.

“Babe, you can’t be serious, can you?” He sneers, his eyes giving you a once over. You only let out a frustrated sigh, turning your back to him a third time.

You don’t know what he deserves more, a sucker punch right to his jaw or the infamous silent treatment. Maybe both could give him a well-earned reality check.

“Are you seriously mad about some measly fucking interaction? Really, Y/N?” he huffs, seeming more annoyed than amused this time. Which makes you, on the other hand, infuriated by even more rage.

The way he acts so unbothered is insufferable. You turn on your heel, facing him, an angry etched expression on your face he certainly can’t dismiss now. “You were flirting with her, you ass! Right in front of me!” You bark back, sick of his apathetic state. Just utterly sick of him.

“I wasn’t, Y/N! Why would you even think that?” he retorts, his obliviousness turning into annoyance, his arms now crossed over his chest as well.

You don’t respond, only letting out a spiteful scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I really don’t see what’s wrong here. You have no reason to be mad at me. None.” he mutters, which is just the cherry on the cake, isn’t it? You let out another angry huff before turning on your heel and leaving him in the room, despite it being yours.

However, you’re not as quick as you thought you were as he catches your wrist, wrapping his hand around it and pulling you closer to him.

“Don’t run away from me, baby. None of that bullshit. Talk it out with me, curse me out, just don’t ever shut me out, okay?” he calmly explains, his eyes trained on yours with his eyebrows creased together in concentration on you. Only you. You take a deep breath, flicking your eyes in between his.

“Why were you flirting with that girl?” you ask after a long pause, your eyes focusing on that one curl that fell on his forehead.

“I wasn’t.” He responds, and it just made you feel even more obscured from this ridiculous situation that brought tension between you two.

You’re starting to think you might be overdoing it. Might be a bit of the jealous kind and just making this ought to paint you to be dramatic.

“Is that all you have to say?” you mask getting offended by his short, incoherent reply, just by answering repulsively back.

“What more can I say then? You’re making a mountain out of a molehill here.” He crosses his arms again, and it just messes with your head on what type of emotions and feelings are coursing through him. What his thought process is, ‘cause he’s doing everything he can to dismiss the issue. Dismissing your feelings that are as valid as can be. At least that’s what you wanna think.

“Never mind.” You pull away from his grip, sitting down at the nearest couch. You’re done trying to argue to a wall, because that’s the position you feel like you’re in, feeling trapped in a loophole if he continues to act this clueless.

He looks over at you, no remorse whatsoever, and that somehow rises more anger out of you, though you make sure you keep your poker-face. There’s no point anymore if he won’t try to understand you.

“Are ya really just gonna sit there and stare?” he asks. But after a long pause, he just knows there’s not going to be a reply.

“Silent treatment won’t solve anything, love.” he adds, looking at you across the room, his eyebrows furrowed as he runs his hand through his hair again.

“Y/N…Just quit it already, will ya?” he grows more annoyed and impatient by your attitude. However, nothing will make you utter out a word again. Not when he at least attempts to apologise.

“Fuck’s sake, Y/N… I don’t have time for this. I’m sorry, alright? I wasn’t flirting with the girl- would never do that.”

You think to yourself you might have overexaggerated on wanting an attempted apology, cause it just pisses you off even more.

“Talk to me…” he prompts, taking a few steps closer to you.

You don’t respond, and he takes it as some sort of indication to stride closer. He takes your hands in his, pulling you up to your feet and cupping your jaw, making sure you look him in the eyes. “Please?”

You hate him. You hate him so much you’re becoming a tough nut to crack, and he’s fully aware of that. He knows how stubborn and jealous you can get over the smallest things. Still, you don’t know where his mind is.

He pulls you in for a kiss, connecting his lips with yours, catching you by surprise. His hands are trailing down your body and reposing on your waist, pulling you closer than before.

If this is how he ventures his way out to say sorry to you, when you can’t take it as a simple word, you’re not…entirely against it.

You stare profoundly into his eyes after he breaks the kiss, his eyes searching yours—But your feelings are very conflicting. You so want to give in, but you’re still mad. And you still hate him. Well, you’re trying to make yourself hate him.

It feels like it’s been ages since you’ve uttered out a word, but that’s none of your concern as you pull him in for another heated kiss, your hand finding its way through his tousled hair, earning a soft groan on his end. His tongue slips out and swipes at your bottom lip, asking for permission to enter your mouth as you oblige immediately.

He has you fully wrapped around your finger. You can’t even be mad at him anymore, even if it’s play pretend.

His hands are on your waist, but it didn’t take long before one hand slips between your legs, making you instantly weak in the knees.

“Let me make it up to you, amore mio.” replays in your mind over and over when you brought him in for another desperate kiss, pouring out all of your feelings and love for him. The way he said it, the desperation in his voice and his dilated eyes— you can never say no to that. You need him.

You’re a hot mess, letting out huffs of pleasure as he continues to palm you through your jeans, like an attempt to hear you, even if it’s not through articulated words.

He pulls away from your lips, traveling his heated series of kisses down to your pulse-point, eliciting another hot whimper out of you. You’re dazed and all you want is more. More of him. Just more.

He hoists you up, your legs immediately clinging around his hips as he leads you towards the small couch, laying you down and hovering his body over yours.

He’s such a sight for sore eyes, carrying the grace of dawn and the mystery of dusk. Your eyes wandering over every feature of his face, just taking him in. He bites back a smile, his eyes lingering on your chest, then back to your eyes. “Want me to make you feel good, yeah?” his voice is ragged with desire, low and husky that has such a toll on you.

He goes back in for a fervent kiss before you could even respond, pouring out all of his love for you that makes you forget the anger you once had a thousand times more. Your hands wander over his shoulders, all the way down to his hips, pulling him in closer, trapping him in between your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist.

He lets out a low grunt in between the kiss, his hips grinding against your heat, drawing out another small sound out of you. His hands that has a mind of its own fondling your breasts through the thin material of your shirt, like he couldn’t get enough of you and he physically needs more. You want more of him too, totally entranced by him, the heat of desire pooling in between your legs with an intensified want to have him in ways that’s unrefined. He moves towards the crook of your neck again, marking you up as his.

You’re already impatient as is, your uncoordinated fingers fumbling with his belt, like you can’t stand seeing him in clothes for another wasted second. He lets you, still immersed in marking your neck up, making sure there are angry marks left behind.

Once you’ve found the zipper of his tight jeans, you tug the material down, his hands coming in rescue and helping himself out of his jeans. In an instant, he pulls at the hem of your shirt, dragging the material over your head and throwing it somewhere in the room. Your eyes have wandered off to the door behind him and suddenly you’re too aware that someone could walk in easily.

“Babe… this room has no lock.” you mention, evoking a small smirk on his face. “Don’t you think it’s more fun that way? No one’s gonna come in.” He teases, eyes shamelessly staring at your bra, like he’s trying to smog up the power to disappear things with his mind.

“But-“ he’s quick to pipe you down by a kiss on the lips. “No ‘but’s’, you’re safe with me, amore.”

You pull him back in, sick of prolonging this any longer and seriously needing a good fuck if he’s gonna make it worth the while. If this is his way to at least attempt to apologise, then he better makes it good. Not that he has ever disappointed you in that division.

He hovers over you again, faces inches from yours, his hand snaking under your back to unclasp your bra in what feels like a nanosecond. He pulls the material off your body like it’s some sort of pest- like he’s been wanting it off since the moment he had laid eyes on you. He nips and sucks at your skin, hands exploring every inch of you. He licks a stripe right above your boobs, staring up at you with a well-known grin, eager to have his way with you.

He swipes his tongue over your sensitive nipple, lapping you up and then latching you in between his lips, paying great attention to you with his mouth, suckling and nibbling on your flesh. His other hand wanders to your untended breast, his fingers playing with the other nipple. You let out a soft whimper, already captivated by his fervent skills, your fingers threading through his soft curls.

Your eyes catches his, a sultry grin appearing on his face that has you overdriven with more arousal, more desire for him.

He moves to your other nipple, giving it the same, equal attention, drawing even more sounds and pants out of you.

All you really want is for him to hurry up. Your mind can’t get off of that damned door that has no lock on it, and he’s about to undress you intimately, which has made you apprehensive. He quickly catches on by your stiff demeanour and he lowers himself down, licking a long strip down your bare stomach- trying to make you forget about the door.

You lull your head back, your breath ragged and uneven as you tug at his golden strands tighter than before, earning a low grunt from him. He sure knows how to make you forget about stuff in an instant.

He has his hands on each side of your hips, trailing them towards the button of your black jeans. He works his way to get you out of your clothes, fast and determined, pulling the fabric down your thighs as you help him kick off the material.

“So gorgeous f’me, amore.” he grunts, quickly discarding his shirt off of him, accentuating his perfect, sweaty body to you, the sculputred abs and delicious pecs staring right at you as we speak. You sit up straight on the couch with only the flimsy laced underwear you’re wearing covering three percent of your body at most.

His eyes widen the moment you drop down to your knees in front of him, head-level with the black boxer briefs clung tightly on him. It highlights the swell of his tent that’s covered by the thin material of his Calvin Kleins. Your doe-eyed expression seems to get the better of him, already biting his bottom lip from your sight.

You waste no time, hooking your fingers under the material of his boxers, sliding them down ‘till they drop to his feet. He’s quick when it comes to stepping out of them, eager for you.

You’ve seen him like this before, plenty of times even, but right now— it’s like his arousal is as painful as it seems. His tip an angry shade of pink, pre-cum glazing down to his shaft. His breathing is laboured, his eyes concentrated on you, like he’s trying to moderate himself, keeping everything under control before he snaps.

You wrap your hand around his cock, the smallest of touch already making him hiss in pleasure. With deep shared eye contact, you start to pump him slowly, collecting the pre-cum that’s spilling out of him, whirling it over his tip, eliciting another desperate whimper from his agape lips. His eyebrows are creased, the purity in his eyes completely gone- reciprocated into something more coarse and obscene.

“Baby.. open your mouth.” he demands in a breathier tone, and you instantly oblige. With that, he cups your jaw with both of his large hands, his eyes intensely staring at yours. You don’t know what to expect, but he stars to hover over you, his face significantly closer to yours. He gives you that snarky smirk you know all too well, and then makes sure to lift your jaw a little up higher as he spits into your mouth without caution. Your eyes widen a little, his spit landing right on your tongue.

“Now swallow f’me, amore.” he orders, and you do exactly as he says.

Jesus…even in times like these— he still tastes divine.

His one hand threads through your hair, his other leaving the underside of your chin. “Show me what you’ve got…be my good girl.” he growls, standing up straight. You’re completely gone off guard by this small interaction between you and him, but you quickly shake it off, your trembly hand going back to where it was before.

You lick a strip up over his shaft, swirling your tongue on his tip that has him already writhing for more. You finally take him in your mouth, wrapping your lips sweetly around him and taking him inch by inch, a swall groan leaving his lips in exchange.

You set up a space, sucking him as you wrap your hand around the part that doesn’t fit in your mouth, his hand threading in your hair expeditiously. Low grunts and groans escapes his mouth, totally entranced by your ministrations as he couldn’t help but thrust forward, meeting your pace and rhythm all. He hits the back of your throat at every thrust, tears already brimming in your eyes that eventually seeps down to your cheeks. You couldn’t help but suck him with more precision, eyes deeply concentrated on his breathtaking face.

The desperation and anguish is written all over him, like he couldn’t bear this and needs you in ways where it’s humanly impossible to describe. Sweat already trickles over his forehead, eyes pleading for you, in a way that makes you believe his pupils are contorted into spelling your name- his want like a screeching howl that blares through your eardrums.

In a quick motion, he pulls out of you and you take your time to catch your breath, heaving them out like you’ve ran a marathon, quickly wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He pulls you to your feet, hands on your hips and instantly pushing you backwards on the couch as your back hits the cushions, laying flat on the surface. Hovering over you, he delicately scans his eyes over your whole frame, taking in every detail from your tousled hair to your almost naked self. He traps himself in between your spread out legs, his length making contact with your lower abdomen, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

His arms are on each side of you, a few strands of his curls hanging over his forehead. “Need to fuck you, baby. Need you right now.” He murmurs, his voice hoarse and his tone laced in pure lust.

You bite your bottom lip as he positions you, hands firmly grasping your hips in desperation. “Please…” You utter out, the only thing your lips can form as a sole word, while your mind is going a million miles an hour with how much you have to say.

The warmth of his palms are soon replaced by the cool air hitting your hips, his hands sliding down to your thighs as his fingers prudently play with the lace of your underwear. “So beautiful…” He murmurs in almost a whisper. “I only have eyes for you, you know that right?” He adds, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, examining him. “I know...” you reply in a soft mumble and his lips quirk up in a lopsided smile.

You glance down his body, and the sight alone has you as weak as water. He pumps himself a few times, eyes still trained on yours. He pulls at the laced material of your panties, prodding his length right under the fabric as he teasingly begins to rub himself against you. You let out a stifled moan, eyebrows creased upwards in simple pleasure. He’s fervent with you, fastening his pace ever so slightly that drives you insane. “So wet f’me, yeah?” he grunts, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss.

Your soft moans are muffled in between the kiss as his hand that rested on your hip is now gripping your thigh, quickly hooking it over his shoulder. He positions himself at your entrance, gliding himself inside you fervently with your panties now pushed aside. A soft gasp escapes your throat, head already lulled back by how full he’s making you feel once he’s fully inside. After making sure you adjust to him, he begins to set up a slow pace, hovering over your body even closer as this new profound feeling intensifies, hitting you in all the right places.

“So fucking pretty for me, baby… Let me hear you, yeah? Moan f’me…” he praises, and all you could do in response to that is grow louder- despite still being in a semi-public setting. There’s a small chance someone could walk in, or even hear you through the door, but your mind is elsewhere. It’s on him, totally engulfed in pleasure he gives you.

“Taking me so well…” He pants, heaving out breaths as his thrusts start to become rougher, dragging out more moans out of you. “So good for me, aren’t you? Gonna fill you up so well...” He continues, his hands trailing over every inch of your body, fingers lightly pinching at your nipples, eliciting another whimpery moan from your lips.

He continues to thrust into you deliciously, hooking your other leg over his other shoulder, this newfound angle hitting your sweet spot delightfully over and over again. Moans spill out of you in an overwhelming sensation, that’s probably music to his ears by the way he’s thoroughly captivated by you.

His own moans fall from his lips once your hips buck up to match his rhythm of his thrusts. “I’m so close...” you heave out, eyes rolling to the back of your head. He takes this as a sign to fuck you harder. Rougher. Like he wants to break you in half.

He adds his thumb to your sensitive clit, drawing out louder moans, that has no way of becoming less when it’s only pitching up higher in decibels. “You’re so fucking hot, baby…So perfect.” he praises you, totally wrapped up in utter pleasure, the slapping sounds of skin on skin echoing through the room.

“Please…” you plead in a high whimper, not really sure why, but you’re completely overdriven in ecstasy, his thumb on your sensitivity never leaving you which adds to more pleasure, egging you on.

“Yeah, amore mio? Gonna give it to me, aren’t you? Show me… Show me how good I make you feel.” he groans completely out of breath, his chest glistening with his own sweat. He leans down, folding you in half like a damned pretzel, hitting you even deeper than before. He nips on the skin at the crook of your neck, humming against you.

“Making me feel so good…” he murmurs against your skin, his thrusts piercing more moans out of you, knowing how much you enjoy his rough side.

The bubbling feeling inside your lower abdomen intensifies by the minute, exhibiting that you’re nearing the finish line. He knows by your desperate pants and graphic sounds as he strives to get you to the pinnacle point of pleasure, picking up on his thrusts, fucking you harder against the cushions with fervor.

Your brain starts to feel like scrambled eggs, moving from left to right in a stirring pan as his lips finds yours in a sweet quick kiss, pulling away to look at you. His hands grip your waist as tight as ever, definitely leaving a mark behind. His whimpers like a melody you can never get sick of, no matter how many times you’re willing to repeat the same tune.

A few more thrusts in and you hear the familiar ringing in your ears as you near the edge completely, your climax washing over you like a tidal wave. You scream out his name in the process, clenching sweetly around him as he follows right behind you and finishes, trails of curse words falling from his lips in heavy grunts—filling you with his cum.

He unhooks your legs from his shoulders, pulling out of you with a small gasp. He crashes down next to you, heaving out hefty breaths. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, keeping you close to his glistening body. “See? You’re safe with me, just like I told you.” he breathes, letting out a soft chuckle.

You turn your face to look at him, a genuine smile formed on your lips, despite being completely out of breath. “Mmmh, never said you were wrong.”

He chuckles in response, planting a sweet kiss to your temple. “You felt incredible baby, definitely needed this after the show.”

You smile, all the anger and jealousy from before completely wiped off of you. “I always do.” you counter with a smug grin, giving him a bit of a tease.

“A win-win situation for me, eh?” He eyes you, eyebrows raised with a cheeky smile. You laugh, shaking your head. “Definitely.” You agree, a small giggle followed after.

“So… I take it that you’re not mad at me anymore?” He asks, his voice laced in a sincere tone.

You had almost forgotten about how immensely infuriated you were before this happened. “I forgive you.” you murmur, glancing at him.

“I mean it when I told you I only have eyes for you.” he utters, pulling you even closer than before, pecking the top of your head.

This was definitely a way to end the night, after a very small gig took place and how the man of your dreams next to you can have you riled up in anger as well as desire in the span of two seconds. You’re not complaining about it at all. You wouldn’t have him any other way— even if it means all the ups and downs that comes with it.

————

[diaryofanormalkid]

I need to vent, but there is no one to vent to so here I find myself using my online diary as my source of releasing all this pent up rage I guess?

So I have this coworker and from the very first moment I met her, my intuition told me not to trust her. This is when I was still considerably new to Tim Hortons, but I’d been working there long enough to know how everyone acted and was.

So just to fill you in on my work and the people I work with, literally all of them in my section are Filipino, except 1. And currently the one who is Filipino is on vacation, so it’s basically just me there as an outsider.

Now I learned the hard way that being an outcast or “other” meant that you were automatically going to get treated differently than the rest of them since they’re all Filipinos. It didn’t matter how nice you were.

So as nice as I was and could’ve continued to be, I decided it best to distance myself from them or at least just not talk to them unless they talked to me.

Which was fine for me, it worked and all I needed to do was last through my 8 hour shift and dip. I wasn’t invested in them or creasing deep relationships with them anyways. They were very exclusive in that sense.

I didn’t see a point in trying to make deep relationships with all of them when I knew some of them didn’t necessarily like me and they could easily just talk badly about me behind my back.

They speak their language very often, which is actually not allowed in the work place at all but since they’re all Filipino, it’s not like they’re going to taddle-tale on each other, so they get away with it easily.

And if I were to ever say anything about their conduct about speaking their language while I’m in the premises, well they would get the idea that it’s only one of two people and that would expose us so I’d rather not report it.

However, they do talk about me in their language. And as of late, it’s beginning to bother me. I remember in the beginning when they would speak, they would ask me if I’m okay and if it bothered them.

They said previously there had been a different coworker that asked them if they could only speak English while at work because it made them uncomfortable when they would talk it. And it serves that person right.

I wish I would’ve said that to them at the time they brought it up because now that it’s later down the line, I regret not saying that it does make me uncomfortable. Now.

Before it didn’t make me uncomfortable because I would ignore it and I wasn’t really caught up on them. But now they speak it so often that it can even affect our productivity in the workplace.

That’s when I say it has become a problem. It’s leaves me as the only one actually doing my job and they’re all just standing there looking away from their cash where customers would come.

It’s so awkward for me because I don’t want to be ‘that person’ that tells them “can you break it up and help the customers?” But it’s not like my managers know that this is what they’re doing so idk who should be the one to tell them?

It’s really conflicting me. Sometimes I think they do it on purpose so they have less work to do. Idk, it just seems as of late they’ve been slacking HARD. I feel like I get no help and they’re just making me fend for myself.

Meanwhile they’re always helping each other. Like, sometimes I’ll be doing a whole big order by myself and I can’t help but think, “Are they purposely not helping me?”

Like before they dynamic used to be different. But as of recent, there’s been like a weird tension in the air. Almost this underlying animosity. For what? Idk. I’ve never done anything and I don’t do anything.

I am literally the most peaceful person and instead of allowing passive aggressive-ness to continue I’d rather just let things be water under the bridge and move past any misunderstandings or disagreements.

But I find myself asking between what time did I have any disagreements, misunderstandings, etc with anyone? There was only one coworker who from the very beginning didn’t like ME.

And that has nothing to do with me not liking her, she just decided as soon as I started working there that she wanted to make my life living hell. And that she was going to make there extra hard.

And look who’s not working there anymore? Her. She relocated to a different section in my work, so now I never have to put up with her. But now it appears all the others are slowly catching up to her.

Siding with her and deciding they don’t like me also. That’s what I mean when I say, they all talk about me in their language. Whether it’s outside of work or inside, it’s clear that there’s a change in the atmosphere at work.

And honestly I couldn’t care less if they like me or not, because I remember distinctly walking in there with no intentions of making friends anyways. The only thing is, if you don’t like me, don’t let it affect the work environment.

But that’s exactly what they’re doing. They’re stunting productivity because of their hatred or whatever it is they have towards me. I’m not sure when all of this underlying animosity became about, but it was recently.

I think it was all when we started getting these ‘employee of the month’ gifts every month. When that one coworker who hates me still was there, she was the one handing out the ballots of who we should vote for.

I personally didn’t like the fact that she was in charge of collecting the ballots and sending them down to where they were gonna be counted. But what completely irked me the wrong way is when she told me who to vote for.

For one, the problem wasn’t the person who she was telling me to vote for. Because I was actually in support of who she was telling me to vote for. It was the fact that she thought she could influence who i was going to vote for.

That didn’t sit right with me because I couldn’t help but wonder if she expected me to listen to her for the next vote, and the next. So I didn’t vote right away. Installed so I could go away in peace and vote for whoever I wanted.

The thing is, she kept pushing the voting thing that whole day since apparently it was the last day to hand them in. So I wasn’t going to get my time alone to vote. And I ended up just voting for who she said, which happened to be the person I wanted to vote for anyways.

So then comes the next time to vote, and y’all remember how at the very beginning of this post I said from the moment I met her my intuition told me not to trust her? Yeah her. Well this time around it was her telling me who to vote for.

So get this, she was trying to get me to vote her the whole day. It was such an awkward day for me because I felt like I couldn’t even get a word out without her saying “okay make sure you vote for me!” And then she would turn it around going “I’m just joking, britney. Vote for who you want.”

Obviously though she wasn’t joking because you could tell since she was so persistent on this matter. I was really turned off by that and instead of holding off and trying to wait until the end of the day to vote for who I actually wanted to vote for, I just ended up voting for her to shut her up.

I felt like she was watching me the whole time until I voted. The entire encounter just made me uncomfortable even talking about it. Because votes are usually private.

And the fact that all my other coworkers were there in the open hearing that I made up my mind to vote for her probably rubbed some people the wrong way. I felt like I didn’t have the privacy for myself to decide who I wanted to vote for.

The BIG sign that made me start to really watch her is one day when she made this comment like “wow, britney really wants employee of the month!” And I kinda just stopped and was like “what in the actual heck is she talking about?”

I literally had no idea what she was referring to because I wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary or doing anything extra of what I would usually do. And from that day on I realized she was watching me REALLY intensely. She had been for a while probably.

Literally though, from that day on she’s been WEIRD. Like just really passive aggressive. Watching me make my lunch when I go on break. Sometimes not saying goodbye in the evening when I leave.

Even making unnecessary remarks sometimes. Just litttle little stuff. But it adds up in my mind. And I’m watching her. Her body language and attitude has changed towards me so obviously that doesn’t go unnoticed in my mind.

The thing is, she only just now notices how much I help everyone else around the work place but before she didn’t notice because there wasn’t an ‘employee of the month’ to work towards.

Like, that pisses me off SO much because I’ve BEEEEEN DOING ALL OF THIS. I am literally the most selfless worker I think THERE aside from one person MAYBE, but even that one girl sometimes she gets caught up doing her own thing which is OKAY.

However the fact that she even called me out on my hard work as if I haven’t been doing this the whole time makes me so mad because it’s like she’s saying “oh Britney’s only working this hard because she wants ‘employee of the month.’”

UM NO girl, I’ve ALWAYS been working this hard. I’ve ALWAYS been like this. You’re just too self absorbed in your own language and world to notice. Like now that there’s something to work towards and compete for, NOW she notices my hard work huh?

NOW? Like girl, seriously? First of all, your claim that I even want the ‘employee of the month’ is false because 1) I don’t want it because I already know NONE of y’all are going to vote for me.

There are way too many of you Filipinos and that makes them biased to vote for their own. And they can’t tell me that that’s not true because I’ve already seen it happen with my own eyes 4 times 🤷🏾‍♀️

2) even if I did want it, i wouldn’t get it because no matter how hard I work it would just be overshadowed with a different Filipino coworker since again they’re biased and they would just vote for their own.

3) they think I’m only working this hard because I want ‘employee of the month’ yet I’ve always been like this? If you couldn’t even notice that this is how I’ve always treated you guys before, then they’re not going to ever think my actions are genuine and deserving of an ‘employee of the month’ anyways, so so be it.

Like they didn’t even appreciate how much effort I was giving before being as selfless as I am and doing things out of the ordinary to help them out, so it’s not like my same character is going to make them feel like they need to vote for me.

So I’m not bothered with never getting an ‘employee of the month’. I’ve already prepared myself to not get one and if I ever do, I’ll genuinely be surprised because there is literally only 2 ppl I can imagine POTENTIALLY voting for me and even then, I feel like it would be out of pity and not actually deserving it.

Anyways so for that specific coworker who told me to vote for her and that I said my intuition told me not to trust her, YEAH, SHES A CHRISTIAN. Idk if I should say that and make an embarrassment of my religion or expose that this is not how christians are supposed to act?

But like, yeah she literally acts like a bully and she’s a full ass grown adult. Literally 40... like they’re all pretty exclusive since they’re all Filipino, but she takes it to a different level.

Like she’ll literally start speaking Tagalog in front of me, everyone will laugh or respond and then not explain what they just said even though that’s what they used to ALWAYS do. And sometimes I’ll hear my NAME?

And I’m like in my head, “so you said my name so you’ve officially made it my business. Can you please address me directly since you wanna say my name out of your mouth?” Idk she’s soooo fake.

Also, because they’re all Filipino, they’re all supposedly really close outside of work also. So they always hang out. It wasn’t until some months back when a couple of coworkers tried inviting me out that I realized they ALL hang out together.

Like literally all of them 🙃 so when they invited me I was hesitant because 1) I was already an outsider at work so wth did I look like trying to hang out with them outside work?

2) they all speak one language that I do not, why would I want to put myself through that??? I wouldn’t even be able to communicate with them......

3) pretty sure the invitation was half-assed anyways? Like she didn’t even sound like she had plans to follow through with it but the guy did? If it was the guy asking I feel like he would’ve actually followed up with an actual date and time, but she was the one who invited me out so I wasn’t even gonna follow up on that.

So now, anytime they invite me, which I’ve been invited somewhere a total of 4 times out with them, it’s not that I decline but I feel like they already know I’m most likely gonna decline.

Either way though, sometimes I’ll hear about their weekends or times they went out with it each other and I can’t help but feel sooo left out. Like it’s the fact that I wasn’t invited that makes me feel left out.

And I find it so disrespectful when they either make plans in front of me or they talk about what a fun time they had with each other when I wasn’t there and had no part to do with it.

That’s something I’ve learned to just let go because I feel like it’s better off that I don’t get close to them since 1) i feel like half of them don’t even like me (or black ppl) anyways, 2) I don’t have plans to stay at that job my whole life 3) they’re shady anyways.

Back to the coworker who I can’t trust though , before she would be so ‘nice’ but I could tell it wasn’t pure or genuine and that any little mix up might cause drama. And I was right. All along.

I’ve BEEN telling my mom, she’s one of the iffy ones I need to look out for. I’m just glad she’s finally showing me her true colours. Because now I know not to get close to her again. Or try to talk to her anymore.

Before, like in the beginning I remember that’s how it was anyways. The only reason I started talking to her was because she started talking to me. I still don’t necessarily even start convos.

Now i only start convos if it has to do with work because I don’t care to ask about her personal life anymore. She turned me off one too many times and I think I’m about done entertaining her bullying antics.

She’s too passive aggressive. Like I remember one time I was playing music. GOSPEL music to be specific. Gospel music that she LIKES and that she’s previously played before at work.

So all I hear is a bunch of noise playing in the background of ppl taking their orders. So finally when I get a moment away from the customers after the line is gone, I’m listening and I realize, there are TWO phones playing music rn.

MINE and HERS. So here I am thinking... “ummmmm okay IK she didn’t just start turn on her music while mine is playing AND it was the same exact music. AND she’s christian? HMMMM.”

I was so bamboozled like I kid you not I just turned off my music because I was not about to get into no fight about music... 🙄 But c’mon like really how petty is she? She couldn’t just tell me, “britney I’m gonna play my music now if that’s okay?” Or ask, “can we play my music now?”

I would’ve respected that WAY more than her just deciding to play her music over mine! The thing is, her music wasn’t even different....... so like I just don’t understand why she wanted to make a conflict out of nothing. This is why you can’t just be befriending every and any Christian.

Some of them are so problematic and I actually had to question God like am I the one in the wrong because if I am then please correct me? I can’t read people’s minds and I don’t know what she’s thinking or what I did to her and why she acts like this towards me...

But anyways I’ve learned my lesson to stay away from getting close to her because she’s fishy and has been acting suspicious for months. I’m just gonna trust God and keep my faith alive and hope for the best.

Honestly like that was a goooood rant because this has been bothering me for MONTHS. My mom is on night shifts this week so I don’t see her for long enough periods of time to be able to rant to her about it. And then my sis wouldn’t care to listen

And anybody else I would even think to talk to this about would be like “that sucks” and I would literally get like half assed responses from them and then they would change the subjects onto themselves and I would have to pretend like there’s not so much more I needed to say but whatever this is the best it’s gonna get.

I’d rather vent on here than to ppl because the people I have in my life apparently don’t care enough about me to even fricking listen to me explain ONE thing that bothers me.

I swear literally any time I try to tell anyone something that bothers me in the SLIGHTEST they talk about it for 2 seconds with me and then change the subject and bring their attention to their own problems and needs

It’s not like anyone would be willing to listen to all this anyways. It’s so LONG. However it wouldn’t have to be so much for me to vent about if I could vent every now and again.

Honestly I’m soooo over everyone like I need better people in my life that actually care enough to talk to me if I need to vent like wow no wonder I have so many undealt feelings just piling up inside of me 🙄 some ppl are so selfish

[dinodrifterdarsh]

Star Versus the Forces of Evil: A Timeline and Analysis of Star’s (and some of Marco’s) Feelings, Part 1

With the S3 movie a little over a month away, I figured I might as well post this. Star Versus the Forces of Evil does a good job of building up the relationship (platonic and non-requited romantic) between Star and Marco, and it also shows how Star and Marco can suck at dealing with (romantic) emotions. They suppress and lie about them, or are just plain old clueless about them, which is pretty standard for 14 year old kids (speaking from personal experience here too). So this makes for some darn good writing material. Originally I posted the bare-bones framework of this on /co/ and it was received well, so I beefed it up proper and decided to share it with others. Here, I’ll try and give a timeline for at least some of the big hints or events that happen which show the kind of romantic feelings that exist-or don’t exist (YET)-between the two.

Season 1: There’s a decent amount to unpack here. Already, great posts have detailed how Star may have started falling for Marco in Sleep Spells, etc. I’m lazy, so I’m gonna focus on the most prominent episode in S1 that deals with romance. To nobody’s surprise, that’s Blood Moon Ball. In Season 1, I think that Marco develops some small unconscious degree of feelings for Star. She's attractive, the coolest girl he knows, etc. But they're not conscious and he still has the pedestal for Jackie, so Marco isn’t exactly making moves on Star. The events of Blood Moon Ball hint that Marco has some degree of attraction to Star, which Marco himself doesn’t actually realize until the episode itself. Marco’s initially defensive of Star around Tom because he genuinely doesn’t trust the guy, and when Marco first proposes going with Star to the Blood Moon Ball, there’s no hint of romantic intent (in the voice acting or music), just genuine platonic concern. But that changes when Star reveals her outfit to Marco.

Dude’s verbal and physical reaction to Star’s dress are pretty clearly not just a “AH YES, MY TOTALLY PLATONIC FRIEND I HAVE NO FEELINGS FOR LOOKS SO GOOD I WAS JUST AWESTRUCK, PLATONICALLY” and the background music certainly lends to that feeling. After this, Marco attempts to ride down with Star (sounding a little more than just a concerned friend), but gets kicked out. When Marco hears the voice of the Old Sea Captain say “The Moon of Lovers,” that gets Marco to get up and eventually ring the bell for transport himself. The fact that the Sea Captain said “The Moon of Lovers” is relevant simply because from a writing perspective, the juxtaposition of that statement and Marco going after Star hints at Marco having some degree of feelings (probably not too consciously) for Star.

Let’s skip to the end of the episode for a bit. Marco thinks he’s done Star a favor by rescuing her from Tom, and that he was in the right to help her, but Star’s reaction clearly wasn’t expected (side note: the really healthy and awesome dynamic between the two in this scene, with the understanding and actual apologizing, is fantastic). Star ends up saying the (in)famous words, “I don’t need a hero, I need a friend.” I think it’s pretty heavily hinted (through later actions) that Marco and Star see this statement in two different ways. Marco, who at this point likely has some unconscious degree of attraction to Star, (mis)interprets Star’s words as “I’m only interested as you in a friend, not romantically.” Star’s words shut down that small flame-Marco may still find Star attractive but any attraction to her at this point would be well and truly unconscious and comparatively minor. We see this change reflected physically in Marco’s look, which changes between the above and below pictures.

Marco definitely looks a bit more downtrodden in the second picture, and I don’t think it’s solely because he feels like he didn’t believe in Star enough. This change in Marco’s feelings is also reflected in the fact that it is only after Blood Moon Ball that Marco seriously attempts to act on his long-standing crush on Jackie (I’m not counting “Marco looks/makes an awkward noise at Jackie” as a serious attempt because they’re really not). Yes, the events of Freeze Day also played a big role in it, but the positioning of that episode immediately after Blood Moon Ball is not coincidental.

Star on the other hand likely interpreted her words literally: she didn’t need (or more importantly, want) some person/dude to just save the day for her because they think she’s not capable of saving or handling herself. This is a recurring theme with Star (Banagic Incident, etc.). She didn’t necessarily mean “Marco I am only interested in you as a friend” but intent and perception are two different things, and neither Star nor Marco can really be blamed for their interpretations (because they’re non-malicious interpretations and I feel blame is a bit of a loaded word in this context).

But what Star says and what (part of her) feels are not necessarily the same thing. So let’s break down Star’s feelings towards Marco in Blood Moon Ball a little bit more. Specifically, her initial reaction to him when the dance starts. Now, the actual effect of the Blood Moon (or at least the light of it) is completely unknown, but I’m gonna assume it doesn’t actually mind control or influence the characters because (a) no evidence of that has been shown (the Blood Moon is also shining at the end of the episode yet Star and Marco’s interactions during that sequence are entirely in character and there’s no hint of manipulation by the blood moon) (b) it’d be more than a bit creepy if there wasn’t free will in all of this, and (c) her reaction is consistent with later ones.

Anyways, Star’s pretty darn entranced by Marco, and this is really obvious to the viewers, although perhaps maybe not to Marco because the dude can be an idiot when it comes to emotions. However, once Marco reveals himself to Star, she’s shocked and the overt attraction disappears, a shift that’s reflected in her eyes, which go from glassy back to normal. This is interesting to note, because it indicates that Star does find Marco attractive and/or romantic, when she doesn’t know it’s Marco (i.e. this scene conclusively establishes that Star can find Marco attractive in a non-platonic manner, period). This is likely because Star has consciously only thought of Marco as a friend, and any attraction to him prior to this scene she could pass off as “I think he’s cute, but I think a lot of things are cute!” which is a line that should sound familiar. Star’s reaction here is also semi-repeated later on in Running with Scissors, when Star goes goo-goo over Marco (although by that point the audience knows for sure that Star has a crush on Marco, and Star herself is starting to become aware of that).

Season 2 (Episodes 1 and 2): Star likely found Marco cute and funny but may have actually developed a small crush on him by the time of S2. My New Wand features Star’s diary, which contains an interesting tidbit. Since we don’t actually see much of the diary’s contents, there’s only so much we can infer, but that’s not to say there’s nothing to be gleaned. I think that in the “My thoughts on Marco” section, Star wrote something along the lines of “I think Marco is kinda cute,” probably post-Blood Moon Ball (which is when Star first really gets swept off her feet by Marco). I say that Star wrote something along those lines (i.e. something that would make a 3rd party go “huh Star has/had a small crush on Marco?”) because of her reaction to Marco finding that chapter. Specifically, Star dipping down. Previously, Star dipped down in Storm the Castle when Marco’s life was in danger. Later on, Star dips down during her attempt to rescue Glossaryck. Dipping down for Star (at the beginning of S2) is not something Star can do easily (or even voluntarily). The previous time she dipped down was during a situation of high emotional stress. Keeping that in mind, note how Star doesn’t dip down when Marco is reading the other parts of her diary. Yes, she’s frantic and yelling at Marco to put the book down, but she’s not sufficiently emotionally stressed (or worried or motivated) enough to dip down. But the second Marco finishes reading the title of “My Thoughts on Marco” Star involuntarily dips down again. This signifies that whatever Marco was about to read, Star REALLY did not want Marco to read (at that point in time). Given that Star has had 0 qualms about expressing how much she values Marco as a friend (verbally, through physical intimacy, and through saving his life), the implication is pretty heavy that Star’s writings had some degree (likely minor) of non-platonic thoughts/interests in Marco (mind you, I’m not saying Star wrote “STAR BUTTERFLY IS IN LOVE WITH HER BEST FRIEND AND HIS NAME IS MARCO DIAZ”). It’s also entirely possible, and in fact likely, that whatever non-platonic thoughts Star wrote about Marco were in the past tense (I’ll elaborate on this shortly).

Also, the above magic key that Star unlocks the secrets closet with is pretty telling. Yea, the heart is technically just the same heart that’s on Star’s cheek but I think the color (pink-ish) and the fact that it’s unlocking a door behind which Marco is reading Star’s diary that has her thoughts on Marco...I mean the symbolism is there.

In Mr. Candle Cares, when the guidance counselor asks Star if she has a secret crush on Marco, Star’s response is interesting: she says "He’s my roommate. We’re just friends.” Technically, that’s not “no” but I think it’s more of a hint that Star isn’t consciously aware of her feelings for Marco as opposed to “HAHA STAR IS LYING.” This ties back into the contents of Star’s diaries, and the Season 2 finale, Starcrushed. I’m gonna lay out a rough timeline of Star’s feelings towards Marco by this point in Season 2. Through the course of Season 1, Star started developing some very minor romantic feelings towards Marco, mostly consisting of “I think he’s cute/funny/nice/etc.” and these feelings became obvious to Star and us, the viewers, in Blood Moon Ball. She writes these...uh, observations, down in her diary. However, Star ignored those feelings for the most part because they were about Marco, her best friend, and no way could she ever have a crush on her best friend/roommate, that’s just crazy (hint, she can). Fast-forward to Starcrushed, when Star says she had a crush on Marco once and then says that she doesn’t anymore. I’ll go into more detail in Part 2, but basically, I think Star is referring to roughly this point in her life when she says that bit in Starcrushed: thus, it’s not technically a lie she’s telling everyone either.

Anyways, I’m tired and I think this a decent enough (or at least not god-awful) ending point for Part 1 of this timeline/analysis. Next time, Sleepover, Bon Bon the Birthday Clown, Just Friends, and Starcrushed!