#Retired Rockstar Ice

[torchflies]

Tom loves listening to Janis Joplin; he has since he was seven years old, riding high on his Daddy’s shoulders at the Avalon — before everything.

Before a passing conversation with a photographer who noticed a particularly photogenic child, before six years of non-stop movies on a Disney contract before puberty hit and made him unmarketable, before the inception of Tommy, before he was drinking his breakfast, lunch and dinner: taking uppers to get through the day and downers to sleep — just, before.

(Ice struggles with the person he used to be and tries not to join the 27 Club).

[eddiernunson]

Ice Cream, Bikinis, and Other Ways to Torture Him | Older Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Harrington!Fem!Reader | 18+ | PREVIEW

Part 1 is now Posted

Summary: The stories of Eddie Munson, front man of Corroded Coffin and his music filled the Harrington household, his albums on shelves and picture frames hung of your dad and him, young and dumb. You're home for the weekend, which so happens to be the same weekend Eddie is in Hawkins on a personal errand. The longtime crush on him bubbles to the surface as you meet him, giving into the temptation of small summer dresses and bubblegum gloss for the fun of it. Until your dad is called in to an emergency work meeting. Then the fun of torture becomes temptation.

Warnings: Older Rockstar!Eddie, Harrington!Reader (Steve's daughter), multichapter build up, excessive use of nicknames, no use of y/n, use of marijuana, perv!Eddie

Describes: long hair, shorter than Eddie by a few inches, reader is described to look like her mom (can be ANY race) with Steve's freckles. No skin colour, body shape/type

(Unedited) Excerpt Here:

The smell of his Irish Spring soap hits the kitchen before he does, walking into the kitchen mid yawn and fresh from his shower. Eddie’s shirt clings to his lithe torso like a second skin, showing off just the hint of a tummy with his sweatpants sitting low on his hips. You allow yourself one second to gawk at him and the hairs that peek out of his shirt until you reshift your focus back to your toast, panicking when you notice the jam that has dripped on your hand. Oh, shit again?

“What’s with the fancy get up, dude?” Eddie asks, pouring himself a cup as well.  

“Before we get to that, Sunshine has put some toast in for you.” Steve gestures with his coffee cup.

Eddie’s brows lift, looking just the littlest bit delighted as he turns toward the toaster. “Oh, thanks!” He snaps his fingers into a gun with his thumb and pointer finger, sending a wink your way. You’re mid-‘clean-up’ on your hand, rushing to finish before you nod to acknowledge his thanks. 

“Alright. My partner called,” he means work partner, “he needs help to close this deal. He’s having a really hard time doing it himself.”

”Who did you send?” You ask, knowing a little bit of his work drama. 

Steve hisses, wincing as he says, “Warner.” 

You roll your eyes, shaking your head as the toast pops out of the toaster. “Well no wonder!” 

Eddie has been watching this like a tennis match, completely out of the loop but entertained nonetheless. “What, what’s wrong with…Warren?” 

“Warner,” you correct him, cleaning up yet another spill of jam off your thumb. “The guy sucks. Why Warner, why not Tommy?” 

“Wait, why does he suck?” Eddie asks as he spreads butter on his toast, looking way too entertained about this.

“Because he’s a 22-year-old fuckwit that doesn’t know how to close and only got this job because his dad gave it to him when he retired,” you huff, not at all distracted by how Eddie is eating his toast; like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted, savoring every bite. His tongue occasionally pokes out to lap at the butter on his lips, his eyes closed as he muffles sounds at the back of his throat. 

He makes eating toast look depraved.

“Sunshine, you’re 22,” Steve squints, lifting his cup towards you accusingly. 

You scoff. “Yeah but I’m not an entitled dickwad who thinks just because his daddy had a job ‘oh, that’s my job one day!’. He has no experience versus his father who was in the game for 25 years.” You’re very passionate about this, more so than you had even anticipated. “Seriously, why him?” 

“He’s the only one who didn’t take the Fourth of July weekend off because he’s a 22 year old fuckwit with no family.” He takes a large sip of his coffee before setting it on the counter. “Well in any case, you are right. He has no experience and we need this account, so I gotta help him out.” 

“When do you think you’ll be back?” Eddie asks, giving you a fresh whiff of his soap when he walks behind you to sit on the other side of the island. 

Steve crosses his arms and leans against the table, mentally preparing himself before he disappoints the two of you, “Not til Sunday.” 

“Shitty,” Eddie sighs sympathetically. 

“Dad I can only take one week off,” you sigh, having only gotten two days with him. “When you get back I’ll only have one more day.” 

“I know, I’m sorry.” He does genuinely sound remorseful. You know he’d stay if he had any other choice, but he doesn’t. 

“You know anyone else in town who could…” Eddie starts, obviously reminding your dad of something he forgot about. 

“Shit. Hmmm.” Steve’s eyes flicker to you, “Sunshine can do it.” 

You pause mid-bite in hearing your nickname. “Sunshine can do what?” 

“I don’t wanna bother her on her vacation.” Eddie states, dismissing Steve’s offer. 

Your dad saved him off, “I’m sure she’d be happy to help.” 

“What am I doing?” You ask more assertively, finally grabbing their attention. 

Eddie finally speaks first, “Oh, I asked your dad to help me pack up my uncles things. It’s a tedious process, I can get—“ 

“No, she’d be happy to help,” Steve offers again, looking at you and jerkily nodding his head towards Eddie. 

You’d be happy to help, you’re just thinking about the amount of time you’ll be alone with Eddie. Your plan was to keep a safe distance from him, allowing a free show in your best summer clothing while enjoying the hot weather. The close quarters your dad is sending you into sounds dangerous, butterflies erupting into your ribcage as you picture the deafening silence surrounding the two of you knee deep in his uncle’s things.   

“I’m happy to help,” you tell him, getting up to put your plate away. 

“I don’t want to force her into—“ 

“My dad can’t force me into doing shit,” you scoff, ignoring your dads own scoff. Now Eddie on the other hand could demand you to bark and you would. Down on the ground, on all fours. “Besides. You two wouldn’t have gotten any actual organization done.” 

“Thanks,” Eddie lifts his mug, giving you a wink. Your neck hair rises, scanning his arched nose and the rebelling stubble already growing in despite having freshly shaved. His aftershave is intoxicating, the sound of a glass mug clinking as it lands on the counter snapping you out of your daze.   

“When are you leaving?” You suddenly remembered your dad’s presence in the kitchen, funny how fast you forgot about him. 

“I should get going within the hour,” he states thoughtfully, grimacing apologetically when you give him sad eyes. You know it's not his fault, but you’re not the adult here, and the disappointment you feel can’t help but twist your features. 

He puts his hands on your shoulders, petting them with his thumbs. “I do feel better knowing I’m not leaving you all alone in this big empty house.” 

You tense up, avoiding his gaze as you attempt to smile. Being left all alone with Eddie in the big empty house is precisely what is worrying you. Your dad’s constant presence alone is the thing that has prevented you from even being tempted into going any further than elongated stares and late night fantasies. 

“I’ve been alone in the house before,” you say, tilting your head. “You’re about to be alone for the rest of the month.” That sentence just makes you feel sad. 

He smirks, shaking his head playfully. “I meant at least if I’m ditching you for work, then at least I’m not leaving you all alone. I was trying to alleviate my own guilt.” 

“I’ve already forgiven you, old man,” you tell him. “Go, rescue those poor investors from Warner’s slippery hands.”

He pulls you in for a hug, his heartbeat familiar as he leans down to place a kiss on your forehead. Your head is swung back abruptly as he pushes on your shoulders, leaning in conspiratorially. “Hey, there are worse people to leave you alone than the man that was once on a poster on your wall, hey?” 

That poster was stared down many times, finally taken down when you were about to move away, kept only because of the autograph in the bottom corner.

Regardless, your dad is having too much fun with this. You wonder who would have more fun if Eddie ends up bending you over the couch like you kept envisioning. Said rockstar currently bending over the couch to grab something jolted you back to the present. 

“And who gave me that as a gift after introducing me to his music?” You shoot back, meeting those chocolate brown eyes across the living room. 

“My ears are burning,” Eddie grins, walking around the couch to plug in the amp. 

“Are your keys burning, because I need a ride to the airport.” Steve interjects, smirking at your widened eyes. 

Eddie sits on the couch, one foot resting on the coffee table as he starts playing his guitar absentmindedly. “I am your noble steed at your service, Harrington. Just tell me when.” 

Steve answers with something, probably somewhat sarcastic before climbing the stairs to finish packing. You probably would’ve heard it if it weren’t for how absentmindedly his fingers were moving, individually plucking the strings as his other hand shifts easily to each corresponding chord. 

He is delicate with the instrument, expertly working her and zoned out as the guitar’s gentle tune fills the house. His many years spent playing is evident through how easy he plays the melody, getting lost in the song with his hands working idly. If it weren’t for his eyes being shut for the whole time, you would’ve probably pretended to go on your phone. 

His effortlessness of plucking the strings sends a thrill down your spine, has your thighs squeezing tightly together as your mind starts to picture his fingers expertly working you apart. 

“Ow!” 

Eddie’s yelp snaps you out of it, making you jump as you hurriedly switch your glance back to your phone. He chuckles as he sucks his sore thumb, the very same one the guitar string snapped on. “Sorry, did I scare ya?” 

“No,” you answer, sounding not at all convincing to yourself. Eddie lifts his brow to you, his face comically twisted as he continues to tend to his wound. “Okay, maybe a little.” 

He chuckles, smirking as he adjusts the guitar on his lap again. “Poster in your room?” 

Fuck, you were hoping he didn’t hear that, despite him being in earshot. 

“Well it was signed and it just so happened to be one of my favorite albums.” Despite your nerves tickling the surface right under your skin, you do your best to seem unfazed by his magic fingers.  

His brows furrow, delicately playing a soft rock melody. At least, you think it's soft rock. “Which one?”

”Hell’s Angels,” you answer candidly. You do like the songs of Freak! More, but you specifically requested a poster of Hell’s Angels because of the dark look in Eddie’s eye while he’s looking directly in the listener. 

There may have been a night where you placed it perfectly on the wall so it appears he’s between your open legs to make it easier to picture him glancing up at you while he—

He tilts his head dismissively lifting one side of his upper lift in a sneer. “Not my best. If I had to pick a favorite, and don’t tell anyone I said this, it’d be Freak!” 

You blink in surprise, grinning to yourself as you listen to the gentle strum of his guitar. 

“I do remember sending that poster off though, Steve never mentioned who it was for, I just figured It would earn him some serious brownie points for a girl he was chasing.” It feels so weird to hear about your dad dating, even after all these years. 

“Nope,” you shrug. “Just his favorite daughter.” 

“Shit,” he laughs, a hiccup in his guitar play, “if you wanted an autograph you should’ve just asked. Only takes me two seconds.”

Your mind buzzes with the offer, probably a throwaway comment of his, but just the offer alone is enough to send you almost on a mental spiral. 

-

I'd add more but the first chapter is only at 5k or so

if you'd like to be tagged, please let me know! (if you're on my taglist you will be tagged for the post)

I'm aiming to post at least once a week but that might be ambitious. Aesthetic pictures will be updated with each chapter!

[anamelessfool]

A Naming (part 4 of 5)

Rated Teen, Papa Emeritus II’s Son and Family

Tags: Halloween Hijinks, Eldest Kid anxiety, Suburban Dad Secondo, Disabled Secondo, Post-Retirement Life, Magic Rituals, My AU with Secondo being Papa from 2001-2008

CW: Underage Drinking, Strong Language

Secondo arrives in the hearse from the family’s memorial home.

Dedicated to @kissingghouls thanks for cheering me on you’re my little Hell Pumpkin 🎃 I;m on AO3 same name with all my other fics but this site gets mad at me when I post links. Check out #anamelessfool Halloween tag for prev chapters, comments include prev chapters and start link. #anamelessfool Halloween start is the beginning of this fic.

At first, Paul’s fear from the rocks’ continued harassment was overshadowed by the slow march of his father over to the picnic spot. The man was in no hurry as he picked his way over the unsteady ground, the crutch that supported his withered leg feeling for solid spots as he approached.

“Just…wait,” said Paul. “It’s my dad.”

“Mr. Leider—?” The corpse-grinder. The man with dead folks on ice. The retired rockstar Hell Priest of Satan. Paul’s dad.

Paul’s friends froze in place, now ignoring the small rocks bouncing off their heads as Secondo approached with the Eye uncovered and shining silver-white. The light from the hearse headlights reflected off his bare scalp and down the side of his carved head. To anyone outside his own progeny the man was a terrifying pillar of relentless severity, but small tells hinted to Paul that a river of stress was flooding its banks. For one, he did not bother to conceal his monstrous Eye. And two, he was chewing on a toothpick. Paul knew they were going to be rescued, but he had no idea the cost.

Secondo reached into his jacket and pulled out a lighter, igniting the flame. His whole face curled into a deep sneer, a wrathful expression moments before a bite. He opened his mouth, teeth glinting, brows intensely furrowed, Infernal Eye blazing.

And then he gave a shout. Except it didn't sound like a true shout. Paul heard the first rough syllable, then his hearing blanked out despite feeling the roar. It was loud, menacing, but not in the air. Instead it tugged at his mind. At once his father’s mouth closed as his face relaxed back into its usual sternness.

And the tension in the atmosphere was gone.

“It's rebuked,” said Secondo, reaching once more into his jacket. He replaced his older toothpick with a new one at the corner of his mouth. “It's surprised I'm here.”

Paul found his voice and exchanged tense glances with his friends. “What…was…”

“Look,” said Secondo.

The rocks started up again but this time slowly, avoiding the teens as they stood rooted to the floor. Watching them materialize and then fall as if puppeted by invisible strings was more terrifying than the random drop above their heads. Paul hadn't conjured up the rocks. Something was responding, actively tormenting the kids with careful gestures.

“What is it….doing?” Paul asked.

“Trying to impress me.” But Secondo's stony face looked far from impressed. Secondo stood beside his son and Paul avoided his eyes while feeling the stares from the other kids burn across his back.

“How did you…even know?” But Paul didn't need to really ask.

Secondo dropped an item in Paul’s hand, shocking him with the temperature. It was a small vial of fluid, inexplicably frozen solid. “Now what page did you use.”

Paul hastily leafed through the journal and brought the circle up to his father's eyes. Secondo studied it for a few moments, expressionless. “Money attraction?”

So completely the wrong one. “Uh…it rained coins for a few minutes, you know,” Paul joked nervously. Behind them another shower of gravel scattered on the floor right in front of Tiff's face and she let out a scream.

“Tell your friends the screaming makes it worse,” explained the old magician.

“Yeah but I'm sorry please help us please! Dad!”

“I can't. It's tied to you.” Secondo leaned down and positioned his expression closer to Paul’s own. “You called it. It wants you.”

“But what do I…what do I do….”

“I could frighten it away again but it would come back. It would follow all your friends home and be bolder without me watching.” A muscle tensed in Secondo's jaw. “No. No you have to be the one to exorcise it. Now. While it's young.”

Whatever controlled the rocks now changed its tactics. The gravel materialized, floated down to a foot above the ground and then slammed hard onto the concrete, bouncing in all directions. The amount of control it had over matter was astounding. Not to mention the chokehold it had over Paul and his friends. “Everyone stay calm,” said Paul, and in other circumstances the kids would start arguing with him. Instead they clumped together struggling not to cry.

“Name. Contain. Release,” continued Secondo. “That’s how it’s done. However you want to do it.”

Paul screwed up his eyes tight and realized he wasn’t breathing. He let out the air in his lungs in one slow sigh, feeling the tide of emotions in their spin cycle. He had to pull them apart, give them a name like his father taught him to do. As always he imagined himself picking them up like small animals, pressing his hand down on their heads as he sorted. Fear, shame, confusion. Humiliation.

And there was something else, just outside his perception. Something there, a buzzing energy concentrated in the far left corner of the picnic area. It wriggled as much as his own fear, pulsing with an independent excitement. Is this what Secondo meant? Is this what he had to name?

“I…I feel something but I don’t know what to do,” Paul whispered.

Secondo’s voice was a low murmur right by his ear. “Continue on. Things called to you have a name. It’s there.”

It wasn’t human, so it made sense for the thing to not have a human name. It had to be something strange. Paul reached out with his mind, his hand following in the direction he felt the roiling presence. The space had a temperature now, ice cold, and the entity rustled and grew in excitement, all at once stamping a phrase directly into Paul’s brain.

Paul opened his eyes, pulled out his chalk and wrote what came to mind on the concrete.

XIRRZARCHEMENT

“Contain,” Paul said. He drew a circle around it. “Release…” He looked up, the kids around him still mesmerized with what he was doing. They were too terrified to comment or judge or joke or smile. Every few seconds a rock would fall beside one of them; a reminder of their paranormal harassment. Paul pointed at a corner of the awning, ordering, ”Bring that trash can over here.”

One of the boys finally budged, carrying the metal can over to Paul’s work on the floor. As Paul expected the can was left out in the rain from the previous day and so had a good two inches of sludgy water at the bottom. He knew enough about Secondo’s work that destruction was a part of it. Destruction by the elements: fire, water, earth, air. The thing enjoyed rocks so earth was out of the question. Fire…he had no idea how to destroy it with fire. Fire was Secondo’s primary way to destroy ritual things: fold it up in a piece of paper, burn it on the family grill. No grill here. And waiting for air to gently blow something away was not fast enough. But water…

Paul dumped the water across the encircled chalk name, scraping his foot to scrub out the words with force.

There was nothing but silence once again. That buzzing, that cold form beside him was gone.

“Well done,” said Secondo gently.

There were a few silent minutes where they waited for the rocks to return, but the air was still again. Tiff and Dana finally peeled themselves from each other, tears drying on their faces. The boys began to wake up from their terrified stupor to secretly glare at Paul, as if he hadn’t just saved them from something beyond all of their understanding.

“But…my car…” Dave started up his whining again now that he felt safe from unexplainable paranormal forces.

“Act of God,” Secondo replied. “And you all had better sober up before I drop you off at your houses. Come now.” He didn’t wait for them to take a hint. He turned and walked back to the parking lot knowing full well all of them would follow along. And they did, cautiously wandering across the grass to arrive at the hearse.

Secondo swung open the back door, and the pristine white curtains adorning the window drifted softly into place. “Truck can't fit all of you,” stated Secondo. “Now get in.” Nobody moved. Secondo blinked. “It's empty. Get in. I'm taking you all home.”

The kids exchanged nervous looks then clambered into the back, huddling amongst themselves like refugees. Secondo put a hand across his son’s shoulder. “No. You're in the front. With me.”

���Right,” muttered Paul. And he’d be the one to get out of the car and open the hatch for each and every one of his friends, half-staring into their face as they would exit. Paul slid into the passenger seat and crank-rolled the window down. They would be driving the ancient hearse at an agonizing twenty-five miles per hour, stopping for too long at every stop sign.

The driver door opened and Secondo steeled himself to get into the car. Paul didn’t want to watch his father lower himself gingerly into the driver’s seat and prop his crutch beside him. Secondo landed on his seat and squeezed his hands on the steering wheel, his eyes closed, breath coming out in a rattling exhalation. He recomposed himself for a minute, then slammed the door. The engine coughed to life. The bench seat of the converted Buick felt massive, his father nearly a football field away on the other side of the car quietly enduring pain just so he could pick up Paul and his delinquent friends after a night of conjuring demons from stolen materials. Secondo never said a word, but Paul felt its weight. The shame was ready to drown him.

Secondo shifted to look in his side mirror. “Paul, we clear?” Was all he said. The hearse had a massive blind spot, and the rod in his back kept his neck from turning as well as it used to. Despite Paul’s lying, his transgressions and the risks he took tonight Secondo depended on him. Trusted him. Whatever paternal discussion on moral failings would be had later, tabled because his father needed him for something larger right now. Paul stuck his head out his window, finding his voice again.

“Yeah, you can go.”

Like it? Reblog it thank youuu

[inkedover]

some Block Tales headcanons that are canon to Playerswap (to substitute for me not posting a chapter in 9 hours, oh the horror.)

these basically don’t ever show up in the fic and I don’t think they’ll ever actually he important lmao, they’re kinda just fun facts.

long post under cut!!!

Lorenzo and Player are twins. Builderman loved both of them equally and attempted to get them both to become sword guardians (eventually), however Lorenzo felt like it just wasn't his calling.

Mayor Monty was originally the guardian of the Ice Dagger, however due to his old age and the Ice Dagger's passive frigid decay effect he needed to pass that duty onto somebody else. that somebody else just so happened to be his nephew.

…yes. that does mean Player murders Mayor Monty's nephew in cold blood. RIP.

most Noobs/Noob variations work for Noobador. this includes Nooblets.

Gemi baked the apple pie himself. he would never admit this and would rather say he stole it like the epic ninja he is (not).

Rockstar is insanely popular. he has a fanbase and regularly makes music. like, he has his own merch and shit. every teenage girl ever loves him because he makes that edgy "my dad is a helicopter parent" type of music and they eat that shit up. like, "OMG HE UNDERSTANDS ME SO WELL!!!!!!"

surprisingly enough I don't anticipate myself mentioning this until way later, so I may as well write this down now: Accountant Jim dies. he dies trapped under the debris in the mineshaft during the blizzard, as he tries to call out for Player to save him but they pick up the dynamite and ignore him. RIP my boy Jim. he will come back as a ghost when I write the manor scenes, though, I swear.

Banished Knight actually dies as well. he's one of the many knights that dies attempting to defend Blackrock Castle against the whirlwind of pure malevolence that it Player. he fails knowing that he had fulfilled his knightly duties to the King. Benevolent King is devastated since Banished had actually been one of his favorite knights, realizing he had been killed in duty makes him want to cry.

Varrick continues selling ice cream through the blizzard. the other knights continue buying his ice cream through the blizzard. literally nobody knows why and Benevolent King is definitely going to give them a long lecture on why that was a stupid idea.

Annoyed Looking Guy was originally a fighter in an underground fighting club to make extra cash. he's retired now, the cards he sells were cards that the club gave to him to make fights more entertaining.

Gene Tai plays D&D. huge TCG card collector, only selling his extras so that he can keep his shop up and running.

…anyway. have fun with these! feel free to use any of them for your own headcanons or AUs, I don't mind at all! do tag me, I like reading things .]

[theyareweird]

Five Nights at Freddy's: Security Breach - Ruin DLC, Glamrock Bonnie —Aesthetic

Glamrock Bonnie's Fate

Bonnie appears in the gondola ride in Gator Golf, where he's part of the Glamrock band before retiring and giving up his position to Monty as the lead base guitarist. This was the staff's way of explaining his disappearance. However, behind the Ice Cream Parlor's closed-off stage is a small room. It's reminiscent of the Rockstar Row rooms, which belonged to Bonnie. There, Bonnie himself can be found if every Wet Floor Bot is deactivated. Deactivating each Wet Floor Bot results in one spawning in Bonnie Bowl. Finally, deactivating it opens up one of the bowling isles. Going through the vent allows the player to find Bonnie's destroyed body, surrounded by multiple Wet Floor Bots. It's then revealed Bonnie was destroyed one night by Monty in Gator Golf out of jealousy. Deactivating the Bots around him result in his glowing eyes to turn off.

[bow-chicka-wow-wow-wow]

10 Most Evil GTA Missions

“By The Book” (GTA V) - Also known as the “Torture Mission,” Trevor is tasked into torturing Mr. K for information while Michael must locate a possible “threat to national security” and pick him off with a sniper rifle. Right off the bat you could tell how much the sociopathic Trevor enjoys this act. The icing on the cake is that you as the player are the one who’s actually carrying out the torture. Rockstar, you sick fucks! Like the infamous Reservoir Dogs torture scene, this is not for the faint of heart.

“Hot Dog Homicide!” (GTA 2) - Imagine this scenario. You get to a diner around the corner from your house, and their top seller is their hot dogs. What’s the secret ingredient? In the GTA universe, it’s the unsuspecting civilian… WHAT THE FUCK?? Yeah, Claude Speed (NOT the same character as the GTA III protagonist, who’s also named Claude) is tasked with driving bus loads of people to a meat grinder and they get processed into hot dogs… At least the PSone version changed it to rival gangsters, but that doesn’t make the mission much better!

“Treacherous Swine” (Vice City) - If you want further proof that my favorite 3D-era GTA game is based on the 1983 crime film Scarface, look no further! Tommy is tasked with killing Gonzalez, who’s fat mouth blabbed to Diaz about the coke deal at the beginning of the game, causing the kingpin to ambush the deal. Here’s the Scarface reference: Colonel Cortez wants you to use a chainsaw! Of course, you CAN use other weapons, as doing so will not fail the mission, but the game still wants you to cut that bastard up with the chainsaw, a la the infamous chainsaw scene in Scarface.

“Bringing The House Down” (Liberty City Stories) - This won’t be the only time this underrated game has an entry on this list! Billionaire Donald Love is looking to get his fortune back after an unfortunate election campaign by redeveloping the Fort Staunton district. The only way it’ll be his is by tasking Toni to blow up the whole Forelli controlled neighborhood. No, I’m not making this up! You literally blow up the whole neighborhood by planting explosives along the subway tunnels!

“Deconstruction” (San Andreas) - Look, I wouldn’t appreciate some asshole construction workers harassing and insulting my sister either, but I sure as hell wouldn’t kill the foreman in the worst way imaginable! First, CJ destroys the portable huts, then as soon as the foreman steps out of the porta-potty, and sees how much you’ve destroyed the sight, he decides to have none of it and retreats back in. This causes CJ to push the portable restroom into a hole and fill the hole with cement, burying the foreman alive. Wow. You’re slowly suffocating and covered in shit. I hope for his sake the shock gave him a heart attack, cause I’d rather have a quicker death…

“Friend Request” (GTA V) - Look, I don’t like Mark Zuckerberg any more than anyone else. But I still don’t think he deserves to have his head blown off. Which was exactly what happens with his GTA counterpart, Jay Norris. Michael is tasked to rig a prototype LifeInvader phone, and then watch the keynote unveiling the device, in which he would call Jay personally, which triggered the explosive, killing him instantly. Jesus! Michael is just as shocked as we all are!

“Flatliner” (Chinatown Wars) - Say the head of the Liberty City Triads is about to retire, and he’s got three contenders that could take his place. How does one Zhou Ming gain the boss’s favor? By tasking Huang to intercepting an ambulance carrying a prisoner on medical leave and bring him back to Zhou. Only for Zhou to rip his heart out. Ironic since his medical discharge is due to his heart condition!

The Eddie Low Encounters (GTA IV) - I can’t believe I’ve been playing GTA IV for nearly 15 years, and only just now discovered this twisted character. This random encounter only happens at a certain time of night, where this serial killer asks you to “drop off a friend,” a euphemism for “dump off body parts of his murder victims.” The next time you encounter him, he’ll pull a knife in you, forcing you to kill him in self defense.

“Have A Heart” (GTA IV) - Say a mission giver of yours is not having a good time dealing with the fact that she’s about to get busted and get 400 years prison time. The paranoid Elizabeta snorts line after line of cocaine, right before Manny Escuela busts in her door and starts harassing her. Right when he questions why Niko is there, she shoots both Manny and his cameraman dead. Even then, Niko makes a snarky comment about Manny, saying he’s always wanted to bust a dealer. Niko takes the bodies to a black market organ harvester, and even at that moment Niko makes one last sarcastic comment about Manny. Guess he finally gets to help the streets after all!

“Dead Meat” (Liberty City Stories) - As Vice City based its story on Scarface, Liberty City Stories takes its story from HBO series The Sopranos. If you want proof, here’s the relationship between the protagonist of both stories and their heartless mothers. (And the fact that both their names are “Toni,” or “Tony” in the case of the TV show. In Ma Cipriani’s mission thread, she’s constantly berating her son Toni for being a “real man,” like his father. She contrasts him to perverted deli owner Giovani Casa, saying she wished Toni “had Casa’s guts.” Does she mean courage? Of course not! Toni took her advice literally and killed Casa by chopping him up with an axe, processed his carcass and had him served at his own deli! Jesus, what is it with GTA and serving human meat? All this just to prove yourself to you mother, who still ends up calling a hit on you a mission later?? Another parallel to the Sopranos, as Liv Soprano calls a hit on Tony.

[the-slighty-improved-you]

Decoding Our Inner Weirdo: A Guide to Breaking Bad Habits

Let’s be honest, we humans are a walking paradox. We crave routine yet yearn for spontaneity. We love cake but hate the gym. We know we should be saving for retirement, but that new pair of shoes is just so tempting. Why are we like this?! Why do we do the things we do, even when we know they’re not good for us? (Asking for a friend… who may or may not be currently elbow-deep in a bag of chips).

The answer, my friend, lies in those sneaky little devils called habits. They’re like that catchy song you can’t get out of your head, except instead of a catchy tune, it’s eating an entire pizza while watching reality TV. Our brains are wired for efficiency, and habits are the ultimate life hack. They’re mental shortcuts that allow us to function without constantly analyzing every single decision. Think of it as your brain saying, “Look, I don’t have time to think about whether or not you really need another cup of coffee. Just do it and let me get back to more important things, like figuring out the meaning of life… or what that weird smell in the fridge is.”

But here’s the good news: habits, like bad haircuts, can be changed. It takes effort, yes, kind of like trying to assemble furniture from IKEA instructions, but it’s totally doable. So, how do we break free from these self-imposed shackles of routine?

Don’t let those habits boss you around any longer! Head over and check this audio book for more tips and tricks on habit change

1. The “Wait, I Do That?” Revelation: First, you have to acknowledge the habit’s existence. This might involve some serious self-reflection, or perhaps just noticing that your “clean laundry” pile has somehow morphed into a Mount Everest of crumpled clothes.

2. The “What’s in it for Me?” Inquiry: Next, find your “why.” Why do you want to ditch this habit? What glorious reward awaits you on the other side? Will you finally be able to fit into those skinny jeans? Will your stress levels plummet? Will you stop getting weird looks from your cat?

3. The “Baby Steps” Ballet: Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither will your new habits be. Start small. Instead of vowing to never eat sugar again, try swapping that afternoon candy bar for a piece of fruit. Instead of aiming for a marathon, try a brisk walk around the block (without stopping for ice cream, you rebel!).

4. The “Oops, I Did it Again” Acceptance: You’re going to slip up. We all do. It’s like learning to ride a bike — you’re gonna fall a few times before you find your balance. The key is to not throw a tantrum and chuck the bike into the nearest ditch. Just dust yourself off, hop back on, and keep pedaling.

5. The “Woohoo! I’m Awesome!” Celebration: Every victory, no matter how small, deserves a happy dance. Did you manage to resist the siren call of the snooze button? You’re a rockstar! Did you actually cook a healthy meal instead of ordering takeout? You deserve a parade! (Okay, maybe not a parade, but at least a pat on the back and a delicious, guilt-free dinner.)

6. The “Find Your Tribe” Quest: Surround yourself with people who support your goals. They’ll be your cheerleaders, your accountability buddies, and your fellow warriors in the battle against bad habits. Plus, misery loves company, so having someone to commiserate with when you inevitably slip up is always a bonus.

7. The “Embrace the Weird” Mantra: Let’s face it, we’re all a little weird. Embrace your quirks and find ways to work with them, not against them. If you’re a night owl, don’t force yourself to become a morning person. Just adjust your schedule to fit your natural rhythm.

8. The “Laugh at Yourself” Remedy: Don’t take yourself too seriously. Life is too short to be a perfectionist. Learn to laugh at your mistakes, your quirks, and your occasional lapses in judgment. After all, laughter is the best medicine (except when you’re choking, then maybe try the Heimlich maneuver).

Changing habits is like trying to teach a cat to fetch — it’s challenging, unpredictable, and often hilarious. But with a little patience, persistence, and a healthy dose of self-deprecating humor, you can actually rewire your brain and become the magnificent, slightly less messy human you were always meant to be.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a very important meeting… with my couch and a stack of unread books. Some habits, it seems, are just too cozy to give up entirely.

[arnoldjaime13]

Blog Tour- REFLECTIONS ON THE BOULEVARD by @authorlambrosio With An Excerpt & #Giveaway!

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the REFLECTIONS ON THE BOULEVARD by L.J. Ambrosio Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!

  About The Book:

Title: REFLECTIONS ON THE BOULEVARD (Reflections of Michael Trilogy #2)

Author: L.J. Ambrosio

Pub. Date: April 27, 2023

Publisher: Film Valor

Formats: Hardcover, Paperback, eBook

Pages: 195

Find it: Goodreads, https://books2read.com/REFLECTIONS-ON-THE-BOULEVARD

Michael's story continues from "A Reservoir Man" (2022) where we find him teaching at a university ready to retire. He unexpectedly meets a young man named Ron who becomes his protege and journeys in a haphazard adventure with him throughout America and Europe in Michael's final journey in life, each twist and turn of the road bringing unexpected adventures. The journey taken is one of joy, friendship and discovery.

Grab book 1, A RESERVOIR MAN now!

  Excerpt:

“How long will the trip last? I thought I would be in Transcendental amazement by now.”

Michael was a little shocked. “Ron, we have only been driving for 2 hours.”

Michael explained to him that they would drive US 80 until they reached the borders of Nebraska and Wyoming, so he had to settle in. The corn fields were right down the road. Passing the corn fields, Ron observed how peaceful everything was. Michael suggested they pull over and park the car for a while.

While just sitting in the car, Ron saw two figures in the field, a man, and a woman. They suddenly disappeared among the corn and, from above, you could see the corn stalks shake violently. Ron chuckled.

“Oh God, looks like those people are doing it! It almost looks like he is doing it to the corn stalk!”

Michael tried to change the subject, “Look at those birds” he said, quickly. Ron was still caught up in his imagination. A few moments passed as Michael tried to rest his eyes and prepare for the next stretch of road. Suddenly he heard Ron crinkling a wrapper to a candy bar, which jarred him back to the moment. Michael sat listening to Ron crunch; he nearly threw it out the window.

“Can you not chew so loud, Ron?” “Sorry. I love these things.” A moment passed; the corn stalks were calm now. 

    About L.J. Ambrosio:

Louis J. Ambrosio ran one of the most nurturing bi-coastal talent agencies in Los Angeles and New York. He started his career as a theatrical producer, running two major regional theaters for eight seasons. Ambrosio taught at 7 Universities. Ambrosio also distinguished himself as an award-winning film producer and novelist over the course of his impressive career.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | Tumblr | YouTube | Goodreads | Amazon | BookBub

  Giveaway Details:

1 winner will receive a 20 Amazon Gift Card, International.

1 winner will receive a finished copy of REFLECTIONS ON THE BOULEVARD, US Only.

Ends August 8th, midnight EST.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tour Schedule:

Week One:

7/24/2023

Rockstar Book Tours

Excerpt/IG Post

7/24/2023

Jaime's Book World

Excerpt/IG Post

7/25/2023

Two Chicks on Books

Excerpt/IG Post

7/25/2023

The Book Junkie Reads . . .

Excerpt/IG Post

7/26/2023

Sadie's Spotlight

Excerpt/IG Post

7/26/2023

A Dream Within A Dream

Excerpt/IG Post

7/27/2023

Cara North

Excerpt

7/27/2023

Rajiv's Reviews

Review/IG Post

7/28/2023

@secretrhs05

IG Review

7/28/2023

The Momma Spot

Review

  Week Two:

7/31/2023

Nerdophiles

Review

7/31/2023

Fire and Ice

Review/IG Post

8/1/2023

@enjoyingbooksagain

IG Review

8/1/2023

OneMoreExclamation

Review/IG Post

8/2/2023

@allyluvsbooksalatte

IG Review

8/2/2023

Review Thick And Thin

Review/IG Post

8/3/2023

Country Mamas With Kids

Review/IG Post

8/3/2023

A Blue Box Full of Books

IG Review/LFL Drop Pic/TikTok Post

8/4/2023

@froggyreadteach

IG Review

8/4/2023

Brandi Danielle Davis

IG Review/TikTok Post

[spoiltizzy]

maybe stede’s birthday is coming up and he’s drunk and miserable and for some reason, blackbeard, local rockstar nobody’s really heard from in years, presumed just not in the public eye anymore, retired or something, has some old business enquiry email or facebook page (idk when this is taking place, the future? lol?) and stede just…

messages. it’s his birthday soon. nobody’s coming, he doesn’t have any friends, but. he wants it to be a good night at his bar, maybe just.

he’d pay anything, really. maybe blackbeard could show up.

i mean as i mentioned, ed was blackbeard, now he’s just ed in a band. stede never connected the dots

ed has a soft spot for stede, as upset as he is. plus, the idea stede doesn’t have any friends and nobody’s coming to his birthday, that makes him sympathetic.

he manages to juuuust squeeze into his old leathers.

shows up. performs a couple songs. stede, who recognises him now, runs off like halfway through the set. ed finds him crying because…. he found ed, and ed was perfect, but he can’t have ed.

and it turns out ed was his first crush too, the one man stede had ever spent nights wishing he could be with as a 20-something closet case

and that’s even worse

because he’s wanted ed for so long and he can’t have him?

ed’s absolutely floored, really, to find stede crying on his birthday maybe through spoonful after spoonful of ice cream

in the kitchen in the back

because why is stede upset? hasn’t he got a wife and a family? ed’s the one who’s all alone and can’t have what he wants.

until stede admits tearily that he’s been alone his entire life, nobody’s loved him the way he needed and he’s never loved anyone the way he needed either. except for ed. but he can’t be with ed.

and eds like “fuck that” and kisses stede

they kick everyone out, close early, and sit on the floor of the kitchen eating random stuff from the fridge until they’re all sleepy and comfortable, and cuddle

oh, stede inviting ed back to his place. cooking more for them even hough they’re both already full.

modern AU where…. ummmmmmmm…. stede owns a dive bar? because his family owns a bunch of bars and hotels and restaurants but he wanted something that felt…. individual and human… but he’s shitty at it cause honestly it’s meant to be a dive bar but it’s too fancy for that and it sells food, too. and ummm…. ed has a rock/punk band thing going on. with all his leather and eyeliner. and he plays there sometimes. maybe he used to be somewhat famous when stede was younger or something. stede doesn’treally connect the queen anne band to blackbeard, hasn’t really figured it out. that’s just in the background. maybe stede’s old blurry poster of ed was his gay awakening as a youth

but like

idk, maybe ed plays with anne bonny or something. and stede thinks ed’s straight.

or. ed’s got izzy breathing down his neck and stede thinks ed’s unavailable

plus ed never wants to get drinks with stede when stede offers

stede reckons ed’s just

disgusted by him

totally uninterested

ed just doesn’t like being around people when they’re drinking, unless he’s performing

he’s had a complicated relationship with alcohol, so he likes to just leave as quickly as possible and doesn’t wanna drink with stede stede sits there all night every time ed performs, eating food from the kitchen his bar really shouldn’t have but he’s extra so of course it does.

eating his feelings over pining for ed

[secretbondsandloveconfessions]

If I wrote a fic about the acotar characters as major celebrities would any of you read it?

The basic premise is that Feyre (an assistant at Spring Records) goes to work for Night Talent Agency as an assistant to Rhysand, who owns the company but manages the three biggest talents on his own: Cassian as an retired/injured professional football player turned YouTuber, Mor as a oscar winning actress, and Azriel as a rockstar. After impressing him, Rhys allows Feyre to take the reins on his three precious talents while he runs his company.

It won’t cover every plot line in the books but it will cover:

*Feyre’s ptsd and growth

*Rhys’ sexual assault from Amarantha

*Feysand getting together + Tamlin’s anger

*Mor’s bisexuality/homoromanticism

*Mor and Andromache

*Elriel (they are NOT endgame, sorry)

*Archeron sister drama, then bonding

*Nesta’s depression/ptsd and alcoholism

*Azriel’s mental health situation (childhood trauma + the stress of performing worsening ptsd and subsequent anxiety, maybe selective mutism)

*Cassian and Azriel being roommates for a while (literally best friends tho)

*Friendship (and lots of it!)

*Nessian

*Feysand wedding

*The Valkyries training with Cassian

*Gwynriel :):):) (I love what I have planned for them)

*Memorie

*Nyx + pregnancy plot (but without the trauma)

*more Az angst (childhood trauma never quite leaves)

*Gwyn’s SA and the death of her sister

+10 more things I can’t even remember

It won’t be like one of those monster 300k fics (I’m in college and have no time) but more like each character having a little novella/novellas with feysand chapters in between each story. It is IC centric, but I will still explore Elain, Eris, Nesta, Lucien, Gwyn, Emorie, and Tamlin through the eyes of the POV characters—or maybe, t he’ll have a few of their own chapters who knows.

Anyway…is literally anyone interested?

[jennibeultimate]

do you have a favourite figure skater? just wondering… also, whats your fave program of theirs? can’t wait to know! your blog is always so entertaining!

Thank you for the compliment! Glad you like it! ❤️

My favorite currently competing skater is Shoma Uno. My other fave who just gone pro recently is Yuzuru Hanyu. (Though on this blog you won't find much of either of them, but on my sideblog @myjunkisyuzuruhanyu)

Anyone that knows me or follows me for a while isn't surprised by that I think 😅

I like a lot of skaters currently competing and retired. I am actually not against anyone at all, there are just some I like a lot less than others. I also watch all disciplines currently my heart is dying for Pairs as the level dropped to the ground ugh 😭

I will list a few more of my faves currently competing otherwise the list would be too long.

Men: Roman Sadovsky, Junhwan Cha and Kazuki Tomono

Women: actually all Team Japan ladies especially Mai Mihara, Rika Kihira and Kaori Sakamoto and the Korean girls Haein Lee and Yelim Kim

Pairs: Sui/Han and Peng/Jin

Ice Dance: Maria Kazakova/Geory Reviya and Marjorie Lajoie/Zachary Lagha

As this would turn far too long if I include all of the favorites programs of those mentioned skaters, I just include one per discipline and one extra for Yuzu and Shoma each 😁

Shoma - it varies a lot depending on my mood, but the one that is currently my fav and that was just brilliant live in the arena is Oboe Concerto SP Worlds 2022

Yuzu - Let's go crazy SP Worlds 2017 (It's just my get go when feeling down, always lights up the mood, also I love rockstar Yuzu)

Men - Junhwan Cha Fate of the clockmaker SP 2022 Olympics

Women - Rika Kihira The Storm NHK 2018

Pairs - Sui/Han Rain in your black eyes Worlds 2019

Ice Dance - Kazakova/Reviya In the end JGPF 2019

I could name a lot more programs I love, also from retired skaters but I leave it at that for now. Thanks for asking! 😊

[torchflies]

OK brain rot got me. I can fully see ice there like "do it for freddy do it for freddy" when asked to do the tribute show, he dyes his hair black and put on the makeup as a small attempt to retain anonymity, he has long debates about weather or not he should wear his old style of slutty outfits cuase he's no longer the starved thin rock star he's the properly proportioned fighter pilot and thus some of his tattoos have been mildly warped by the muscle and fat. All of this is completly unfounded as everyone everywhere thinks this returned older kiaro is hot as fuck, becuase he looks healthy, becuase he's put on weight and most importantly at a time like that becuase he lived, the fact that he lived and looks healthy is so fucking hot (on top of him having awsome stage presence and the rest).

The press try to interview him afterwards and he only says "I'm doing it for freddy not you" then dissappears removes all his piercing and makeup gets changed and blends into the crowd seemlesly once more

I’m so happy you have brain rot!!!!!

Oh, Ice definitely doesn't want to do the Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert at first. He tries to talk his way out of it multiple times. But he ends up going because he owes it to Freddie and the rest of Queen. In fact, most of the rock legends all know each other, they run in similar circles and they all know that Kairo Jett ran off to have a normal life. They respect that 100%. But when one of their own dies, well, that's different.

Also, Ice’s rockstar singing voice is based on Adam Lambert’s and hearing him sing The Show Must Go On destroyed me, so that's what Ice sings at the concert. The song that Queen put together and recorded while Freddie knew he was dying.

Yes!!! You touched on his body issues perfectly! Ice can barely stand to look at old interviews of himself because he looks so bad. But he feels unsure of himself as a healthy grown man who has layers of muscle and fat on his body. But everyone loves it.

Yes, yes, yes — I'm doing it for Freddie, not you.

The only time I can see Ice coming out of retirement is maybe a few voice acting gigs for movies or putting out a new album in a completely different music genre. Those rockstar days are over. 🥁🤘

Also, linked under the cut is Adam Lambert singing The Show Must Go On and please cry with me.

[goikytown]

Who has a job and what job do they do?

Gonna copypaste this directly from the doc just for you anon

# = UNEMPLOYED 8-Ball: Works at a casino Balloony: Gas station Barf Bag: Social WorkerBasketball: PE teacher Blocky: Ex-Youtuber, Has a podcast # Bomby: Construction worker Book: Works at library Bracelety: # Bubble: Life Guard Clock: At Cloudy’s collector store Cloudy: Collector store (w/ Clock) Coiny: Malewife # Donut: Teacher at a k-8 school Eraser: Smoke + Snack shop Firey: Dogwalker/Babysitter Flower: Clothing line, small store in the town Foldy: Skydiver Gaty: Interior designer Gelatin: Steakhouse chain/Diner + Works occasionally at Leafy's store Golfball: Mad scientist Ice cube: Twitch streamer Leafy: DJ + Has a record shop Lightning: Designs shoes + shoe model Lollipop: Saleswoman Loser: Housewife, Ex-Rockstar/Celebrity # Marker: # Match: Got fired from a Burger King # Naily: Animal Trainer Needle: Self Defense Trainer Nickel: Work out Coach Pencil: Got fired from a Burger King as well # Pin: Tattoo Artist Profily: Announcer's secretary Puffball: Gets money from commissions # Robot Flower: # Roboty: Helper Robot (but sucks at helping) Ruby: Model Saw: # Snowball: Ex-Truck Driver, Retired # Stapy: Works at the Bank Taco: Also works at the Library Teardrop: Popular Rhythm gamer/streamer Tennisball: Golfball’s assistant TV: Be TV Woody: Woodworking Yellowface: Owns the Yellowface Warehouse, Bartender/Owns the GAY BAR just cuz It was his dream (Rich motherfucker) (Filthy 1%-er)

Grocery Store: Cafe: Pie & Tree Re-stocking: Blackhole & Pen Cashier: LIY & Pillow Janitor: Bottle IT Junk/Computer Person: Remote

Diner/Gelatin’s Steakhouse:

Owner: Gelatin Cook(s): Fries, Spongy Waitresses: Bell, Cake Janitor/Cleaner: Fanny

[oalpa]

Sing 2: Alice in Wonderland, my version (Part 1)

The moon was shining bright as a bus drove through the gloomy dark night, inside sat koala Buster Moon and his theatre gang, who had finished their show called “Out of this World” at the Magestic theatre and were headed back home to Calatonia. The group had visited Redshore City to take their performing skills to the next level, and after a lot of misshapes they could finally relax and go back home to take a break. They met some new friends along the way, Porsha, wolf daughter of former head of Crystal Entertainment and famous businessman, Jimmy Crystal, who was later arrested for committing attempted murder on Buster and other crimes. Nooshy, a street lynx dancer who was brought into the group by Johnny, who was going through abuse by his assigned choreographer, Klaus Kickenklober, a top choreographer in Redshore City, and met Nooshy hoping to get some dance lessons from her, and he did. Alfonso, an elephant ice cream vendor who Meena met and fell in love with, after being assigned to do a romantic duet with Darius, an award winning self centred yak. And finally, Clay Calloway, a retired rockstar who gave up on music and singing due to the loss of his wife, Ruby. Soon, after meeting Buster and his friends, he was able to step back into the spotlight.

Now there was everyone, headed back to Calatonia, along with their new friends, Porsha, Clay, and Nooshy. The ride was long one, almost a dozen miles, and Buster, who was sitting at the back of the bus, was getting a little bit tired. Some of the crew had already fallen asleep, but he felt like staying up a little longer, so if they got back home sooner, he could wake them up and let them know they were back.

Soon he felt his eyes drooping as he laid against his seat and stared out the window, thinking about everything that happened in Redshore City, it really had started taking a toll on him, but he ignored it, hoping that if he did, it would go away. Soon, he was becoming more and more tired by the minute, as a soft yawn escaped his lips.

“Maybe a short nap wouldn’t hurt” Buster thought to himself as he finally let his eyes close and fell into a deep sleep. Meanwhile, Porsha, who was sitting next to Buster at the back of the bus, looked beside her to see Buster asleep. She smiled softly and very slowly reached out and took him in her arms, who didn’t wake up due to the sudden contact. She laid his head down on her lap and gently stroke his furry head. As she did so, he smiled softly in his sleep making Porsha smile warmly as she stared down at him. After a few minutes, she turned her attention away from him and stared out the window. Unbeknownst to her, when she turned her gaze away from him, his smile slowly faded away and was replaced with a frown as he groaned in his sleep. The dream he was currently having was not exactly a sweet one….

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Partying and Poker Faces

Criminal Minds x Supernatural

Word Count: ~3350

Warnings: Errbody gettin drunk. Terrible zamboni puns. 

A/N: No, seriously, it’s just random drunk conversations. They are ridiculous. It’s fun. Thanks to @stunudo​, @fookinghelljensensthighs​, @lastactiontricia​ and everybody else in the Slack chat who listened to me ramble and helped with Nutcracker jokes/Winchester band names. Hair clip scene inspired by this post. 

Part 6 of the Rockstar AU! 

-

-

The “Wayward Sons” World Tour: Pre-Tour Kickoff Party

. . .

“Okay, seriously though, my friend found all these pictures of them at Bonnaroo walking around with a girl with blue hair, right? So she did a side-by-side analysis and she swears it’s Harry Styles in a wig. Like, honest to god.” 

“Who’s Harry Styles?” Spencer asks, putting his book down and rubbing his eyes as he comes out of his reading trance.

“Only the love of my life,” Penelope tells him. 

“Penelope,” Emily interrupts. “You are not allowed to ask him if he’s really friends with Harry Styles.” 

Penelope deflates slightly. “But -”

JJ tells her, “You are definitely not allowed to ask if you can have Harry Styles’s phone number.” 

Penelope rolls her eyes. “Apparently there’s a whole group of crazies who think he and Sam are actually dating. There are conspiracy theories and everything.” 

“Let’s just outlaw the subject of Harry Styles altogether,” JJ says hurriedly. “Okay?” 

“Oh my God, I wouldn’t actually ask. Are you ready yet, Em?” 

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Emily replies, glaring at her reflection. She’s been trying to even out her wings for like half an hour now. “I look like a raccoon.” 

“So… normal then?” Spencer asks, with his cheekiest smile. 

“Uh oh, we’ve got Sassy Spence tonight,” JJ says. She grabs Emily’s arm to tug her away from the mirror. “You’re gorgeous. Let’s go.” 

“Forward, march!” Penelope orders. “To Suite 202!” 

. . . 

“So then Sammy asks if she’s his daughter,” Dean finishes. 

Hotch and Spencer laugh; it makes Hotch look about ten years younger. 

“What did she say?” Spencer asks, tucking his hair behind his ears again. With his legs crossed in his ratty Chucks, he looks too young to be drinking. 

“Just said ‘I’m his wife,’ ice cold, and walked away.”

“You should’ve seen the look on Sam’s face,” Cas adds. He settles down next to Dean, handing him a fresh drink and sitting close. For a moment Dean forgets that they’re allowed to be close, that he’s not in public any more, and then he puts an arm around Cas, smiling to himself. 

“What about you?” Dean asks. 

“I haven’t gotten starstruck since Kurt Cobain,” Hotch answers. “But you should ask Spencer what happened when he met David Byrne.” 

“Spencer, what happened when you met David Byrne?” Cas asks with a smirk. 

“Well… you know how Freud talked about seeing the Acropolis for the first time? The feeling of derealization?” 

“No,” Dean says, raising his eyebrows. “Should I?” 

“What you have to understand is that my mom was playing me the Talking Heads while I was in the womb,” Spencer continues earnestly. “Remain In Light, mostly, because it came out that year, but — anyway. Research shows —“

“David Byrne is his Acropolis,” Hotch translates. “He didn’t speak for almost two hours after they were introduced.” 

“And I get the feeling there aren’t many things that render him speechless,” Cas says dryly. 

. . .

“Hey there, hot stuff,” Penelope says, and she sits in the empty spot next to Derek on the couch. She almost kicks Spencer as she does so; he’s sitting on the floor in front of the couch, hunched over one of the acoustic guitars that everybody’s been passing around. 

“You know there’s another chair, right?” asks Sam, who’s sprawled out in one of the armchairs opposite their couch.   

“Trust me, it’s pointless,” Derek tells him. “He hates chairs.” 

“That’s not true,” Spencer says absent-mindedly, tucking his hair behind his ears. “I like the ones with wheels.” 

“Wait, you play keys, right?” Sam asks, watching Spencer pluck out a quick, dexterous open-tuned thing that Penelope is pretty sure he’s improvising. 

“And synths,” Spencer says, pushing his hair out of his eyes again. “But also… a little bit of everything, I guess.” 

“Guitar, bass, drums, violin, cello, saxophone, clarinet,” Derek rattles off proudly. “What else? There are some weird ones.” 

“Didgeridoo!” Penelope adds. 

“She calls it my didgeri-don’t,” Spencer says, and it’s true; it’s her least favorite instrument, which is unfortunate because it’s one of her favorite words.“And there are a few things I built, I guess, but haven’t really named yet.”

“That’s awesome,” Sam says, looking suitably impressed. 

“You need a goddamn haircut, Pretty Boy,” Derek says, as Spencer tries to get his hair out of his eyes again. 

“Don’t listen to him,” Sam tells Spencer, running a hand through the shampoo-commercial situation he has on his own head. “And don’t let my brother start in on you, either.” 

Penelope rummages in her purse for a second and pulls out a neon green butterfly clip. She combs some hair back from Spencer’s forehead, twists it, and secures it so that the butterfly is right on the crown of Spencer’s head.

“Thanks, that’s much better,” Spencer says, giving her a quick smile over his shoulder. Sam stifles a laugh. 

“Hey,” Derek says, in an undertone. “Got any more of those?” 

“I love the way your brain works,” Penelope stage-whispers back. She digs around until she has a whole handful of aggressively colorful glittery barrettes (some are shaped like flowers, some have pom-poms) and passes half to Derek. She leans down and starts to braid a little section of hair near Spencer’s temple. He doesn’t seem to notice. 

. . . 

“You’re new, aren’t you?” Hotch asks, as he starts mixing himself a drink. “I don’t think we met at the surprise show.” 

“Jack,” the kid says, with a sweet smile. He’s all fresh-faced and earnest. Hotch has concerns. 

“I’m Aaron, but everybody calls me Hotch,” he says. “What‘s your part in this whole circus?” 

“I’m their guitar tech,” he chirps. “Cas is my uncle, also. He’s the one who got me the job.” 

“Uh-huh. First tour?” 

He nods. “I’m excited! This is going to be great.”

Hotch has a feeling this is going to be trouble. 

Jack has a hand on the whiskey bottle when Hotch notices and asks, “How old are you?” 

“He’s twenty,” Charlie interrupts, snatching the bottle from Jack’s hand. “Down, boy.” 

Jack shrugs, not seeming particularly bothered, and wanders away with his soda. 

“Good to know,” Hotch says wryly. 

Charlie gives Hotch an apologetic look and says, “I feel like a spoilsport. Like, let the kid have some fun, right?”

“So you followed all the rules when you were his age?” 

“Well, no, not so much, although I wasn’t into drinking so much as… um. Mild felonies.” She wrinkles her nose expressively. “But I have strict orders from Cas. He might look like a teddy bear, but Cas can be scary.” 

“Felonies,” Hotch says, trying to keep a straight face. Charlie nods. 

“Hacking, mostly?” she says tentatively. “There was some… environmentally focused cyber-terrorism, I guess you’d call it.” 

“You should talk to Penelope, she used to do that sort of thing as well.” 

Charlie looks over dubiously at Penelope, who is pulling up the hem of Derek’s shirt and showing off his abs, Vanna White style, for Sam’s benefit. Sam looks shockingly unaffected, so odds are he is straight, in which case, Rossi owes Hotch some money.

“Really. She was actually contacted by the FBI, they wanted to hire her, but.” Hotch smiles at the way Charlie’s mouth falls open. “She has a whole… sordid history. They used to call her the Black Queen.” 

“Are you… what?” Charlie asks incredulously. 

“I know, it’s a ridiculous name, but —”

“No, that’s — I can’t believe it,” Charlie stutters. “Really?” 

Hotch raises an eyebrow. “Really. Does that mean something to you?” 

Charlie shakes her head, eyes wide. “You don’t understand, she’s a legend. She’s like a frakking rockstar.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“No, like an actual rockstar,” Charlie insists. “Not that you’re not a rockstar, I didn’t mean — holy crap.” 

“Would you like me to introduce you?” Hotch offers. 

Charlie goes pale. “I don’t — um.” 

“I think you’re the first person who has ever been intimidated by Penelope Garcia,” Hotch muses. 

Charlie does a quick shot of whiskey before nodding. “Okay, I think I’m ready.” 

. . . 

“I am so fuckin’ glad I don’t have to deal with this every night,” Bobby says gruffly, with an expansive gesture at everyone in the room and their varied levels of inebriation. “We’re too old for this shit. Don’t know how you still want to go out on the road.” 

“Of all the groups I’ve managed, believe it or not, this one’s the easiest.”

Bobby looks across the room to where JJ is passing around shots and Emily is talking everybody into a game of Truth or Dare, as a “bonding exercise.” Spencer is clinging to Morgan’s back like a gangly white Yoda; Morgan, who’s serenading Sam with “Wonderwall” (Sam is covering his ears and looking pained) doesn’t seem to notice his weight. 

“I don’t believe it, actually,” Bobby tells Rossi, who shrugs. 

“They take care of each other, really. No ego involved, with any of them, which is rare enough in this business.” Rossi pauses as Penelope shrieks; Hotch, who is standing between her and Charlie, looks vaguely alarmed, but nobody seems to be in any real danger. Rossi adds, “They may act like a bunch of assclowns sometimes, but they’re much smarter than they look. I told you, didn’t I?” 

“Fair enough,” Bobby says. He’d called Rossi on a whim, looking for an opener for Dean’s surprise show and hinting about “discretion” and “liberal types,” trying not to give too much away. He’d expected Rossi to put him in touch with a friend of a friend, or something. He didn’t expect this to work out so well.

Bobby’s not used to things working out well. It’s a nice change. 

“Good to see you again, anyway” Rossi says. “You’re coming out to a few more shows, right?” 

“Course. I’ll be around here and there.” 

“Bet you’ll miss them soon enough. I was bored stiff when I was retired,” Rossi says. 

“Yeah, well, you didn’t have to get those two through their teenage years,” Bobby grouches. “Just about put me in an early grave.” 

“They seem like good kids,” Rossi says. “I don’t think I’ve seen you since they were… how old?” 

Bobby can’t help but smile at that. “Yeah, they’ve got good heads on their shoulders. They grew up. Just in time, too. I kept tellin’ them, success is going to change things, but I don’t think they believed me. Idjits.” 

Rossi nods knowingly. “Cheers to success, then. And old friends.” 

“I’ll drink to that.” 

. . . 

“Pastor’s son, in the church,” Emily says. 

“Twins,” Dean replies smugly. 

“Nice.” Emily gives him a fist-bump. “Backstage during a performance of The Nutcracker.” 

“I’ll be very disappointed if there were no nut jokes.” 

Emily smirks. “Well, there were no actual nuts involved, but the fairy did, in fact, taste like sugar plums.” 

“Yeah, okay, not bad,” Dean says. He clinks his beer bottle against hers and they drink. “On top of a zamboni.” 

“You mean zam-bone-y?” 

“Thank you! Sam rolled his eyes so hard I thought they were gonna fall out when I said that.” 

“The Roxy.”  

“Green room? C’mon,” Dean scoffs. “Amateur hour.” 

“Nope,” Emily says triumphantly. “In the crowd, during a Guns N Roses show.” 

“Okay, that’s fuckin’ awesome,” Dean laughs.

“It really was.” 

Dean’s eyes flick across the room, following Cas, who just deadpanned something that’s making Hotch double over with laughter. Dean’s eyes go crinkly at the corners as his smile gets even brighter — a full-on megawatt movie star smile — and his expression is so sweet and soft and utterly adoring that Emily melts a little bit. 

“Gross,” she says, elbowing Dean. He elbows her right back. 

“Shuddup,” he mutters. 

“No more twins for you,” Emily sing-songs. 

“Worth it,” Dean says firmly, and even she can’t think of anything snarky to say to that. 

. . . 

JJ can only understand about one in five of the words Penelope and Charlie are chattering to each other, so she gives up and leaves them to it. She’s slightly concerned they’re plotting to take over the world, or something. They don’t seem to notice her leaving. 

Dean and Emily are side by side on one of the couches, both slouching, with their feet up on the coffee table and beers resting on their stomachs, giggling about something as if they’ve been lifelong friends. The whole tableau is unexpected, but not in a bad way. 

There’s something about Dean that JJ just didn’t like, at first. It’s mostly that he’s too likable. In every interaction they’ve had, he’s been incredibly charismatic, warm, polite, funny… but it’s not him. 

JJ is an expert at getting people to trust her without ever showing her hand. She recognizes a bluff when she sees one. 

She’s been watching Dean, whenever he thinks she’s not paying attention. He lets his guard down, sometimes, when he’s with his brother or Cas, but there’s a well-disguised wall that goes up when he talks to anyone else. It’s defensive fortifications camouflaged as charm. 

Apparently Emily’s shoved through whatever wall Dean usually puts up when he’s around strangers. Emily can do that to a person, though. JJ knows that better than anybody. 

Emily’s clearly teasing him about something. He’s grinning, boyish and bashful and genuine, and JJ likes him a hell of a lot more, suddenly. 

She heads over to join them on their couch, sliding over the armrest to sprawl halfway over Emily’s lap and cuddle in close. 

“Are you two still playing Truth or Dare? This doesn’t look very daring.” 

“Debauchery pissing contest,” Emily informs her. 

Dean is watching her, and his walls are up again: pleasant smile slapped on his face, eyes calculating, playing it close to the chest until he figures her out. 

She raises an eyebrow and prompts him: “Well? Aren’t you going to ask me?” 

He looks suspicious, but he goes with it. “What’s the craziest place you’ve had sex?”

“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell,” JJ says primly, and for a second Dean’s actually thinking about taking her seriously. She rolls her eyes. “Kidding. Middle of a Guns N Roses show.” 

He looks confused for a second. Then Emily and JJ high-five, and Dean barks out a laugh. 

“I didn’t know you —” 

He hesitates. 

“Swing that way?” JJ supplies. 

“Yeah, that.”

“Most people don’t, and we’re gonna keep it that way. Understood?”

Dean seems surprised by the sudden sharp edge in her voice. “Gotcha.” 

“I used to think she was crazy for not coming out publicly,” Emily tells Dean, but she’s looking at JJ with a little half-smile on her face. “But now that people are starting to give a shit about us, sometimes I think she might’ve had the right idea.” 

“Don’t lie, you love being an ‘inspiration to the youth,’” JJ says, with mocking finger quotes. “And you’ve been disappointing your mom for years, she’s used to it. Mine would probably have a heart attack.” 

“Yeah, but the number of times I get that fucking ‘Does that mean you’re attracted to pans?’ bullshit, I swear to God…” 

Dean’s looking at JJ again, but this time it’s less calculating and more admiring. He nods slowly like something just started to make sense.  

“Helluva poker face,” he says approvingly.  

JJ grins. “Yours isn’t too bad either.” 

. . . 

“I gotta ask,” Spencer says, slurred and slow. “How’d you choose the band name? The Ceiling Fires?”

Sam shrugs. “It was a recurring dream that Dean and I both used to have.” 

“Weird image.” Spencer makes a face as he undoes one of the tiny braids Penelope left in his hair. “Not that — weird isn’t a bad thing. It’s memorable.”  

“Yeah, I guess so. Dean called it that as a joke, to start with, I think, but...” Sam rambles. He’s right at that point of drunk where words just keep rolling off his tongue. “Feels like a long time ago. I mean, I did not in a million years think we’d end up here.” 

“Linear time,” Spencer comments. 

Sam waits for him to finish the thought, but apparently that’s it. 

“Linear time,” he repeats agreeably. “It’s not just… time, though, you know? It’s the whole deal. Success, I guess. People listening.  Expecting you to look a certain way, or… I don’t fucking know.”

Spencer nods pensively, combing his fingers through his hair again. “We did a magazine photo shoot the other day and they wouldn’t let me wear any of my own clothes. I like my clothes. And people keep asking if I’m dating anybody.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been getting that question too.” Spencer doesn’t know the half of it. Sam laughs to himself, rubbing his forehead, and takes a big gulp of his drink. 

Spencer pulls out another barrette with a grimace. “I mean, why would anyone care if you’re dating… who was it? Harry Styles?” 

Sam chokes and spits whiskey everywhere. 

“Who —” he wheezes, and has to stop to cough. “Fucking — how did you know?” 

“Wait, really?” 

“What?” 

“Penelope said it was just a stupid rumor,” Spencer says. He’s squinting at Sam like he’s seeing double. 

“Shit.” The adrenaline rush is going a long way toward sobering Sam up. He shakes his head and tries to pull himself together. “Shit. I just… shit.” 

“Is that a big deal?” Spencer asks, with a mild sort of confusion. “Penelope made it sound like a joke. She called it a conspiracy theory.” 

Sam stares at him, open-mouthed, before dropping his head into his hands with a groan. “Yeah, let’s just keep calling it a conspiracy theory, okay? I already owe his publicist a fucking… fruit basket, or maybe just a lot of wine.” 

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t actually know who that is,” Spencer offers. Sam laughs weakly. “No, really, I won’t tell anybody. Even Penelope. Especially Penelope.” 

Sam studies him for a second. He looks earnest enough, in a boozy, unfocused way, but Sam’s learned the hard way that most people can’t be trusted. 

Still, worth a try. 

“If you could — yeah. Please? Just… please don’t tell anybody.” 

“Believe me,” Spencer says. “I know how it goes. If you let people see the things that matter…” He trails off, his eyes sliding to a point somewhere over Sam’s shoulder, and his voice gets unexpectedly clear and fierce. “People can be vicious. I wouldn’t give them a weapon like that.” 

Sam’s pretty sure he shouldn’t feel so reassured — Spencer still has a glittery butterfly clip sticking out from behind one ear — but he is, somehow. 

“Thanks,” he says quietly. 

Spencer shrugs, like it’s nothing, and settles the guitar in his lap again. “Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.”

“Oh hell no,” Sam grumbles, and throws a couch cushion at him.  

. . .

“Okay,” Hotch says decisively. “Everybody have their room keys?” 

“Aww! He’s like the world’s cutest drill sergeant,” Charlie says. Hotch scowls at her, but he has a feeling it’s not very intimidating. She just giggles.

“Rossi?” Hotch asks, looking around and doing a quick head count. 

“Went to bed an hour ago to listen to the latest episode of his fucking true crime podcast,” Emily says. 

Hotch frowns. “Without me? Sneaky bastard.” 

“Of all the weird fucking hobbies…” JJ mutters. “Hey, Morgan, is it my turn to be the jetpack?” 

“Fuck no. I am way too buzzed to be carrying any of you home tonight. You can walk.”

“I’m not sure I can, actually,” Spencer says morosely. He looks like a rag doll, sitting on the floor, propped up by the side of the couch. 

“Somebody come get Schroeder,” Dean mumbles, from where he’s curled up on the couch with his head in Cas’s lap. 

“We got this,” Penelope says determinedly. She grabs Spencer by the wrists and hauls him to his feet, and they lean against each other heavily, somehow managing to stay upright. 

Sam opens the door for them, smiling bemusedly as they all start to trail past: Morgan first, uncharacteristically wobbly on his feet; Emily and JJ, with their hands tucked into each other’s back pockets; Spencer and Penelope, staggering dangerously; and finally, Hotch bringing up the rear.

“Thanks,” he tells Sam, and waves at the others. “See you tomorrow.” 

Before the door closes behind him, Hotch hears Dean say, “It’s gonna be a fun tour.” 

.

.

.

[chemiste]

Foresight ~ ch.8

a/n : oof, i’ve been a bad writer! i didn’t update my story for a month, sorry y’all. please stay safe during quarantine and if you go to a protest, wear long sleeves, close toed shoes, nothing with brand logos, gloves and have a MASK!! covid is still here and spreading so be safe :)

masterlist

The jet was beautiful, and you expected nothing less for the rockstar in front of you. 

Everyone had thankfully gotten through the security lines without a flash fan mob (bless sunglasses and big hoodies). Because you were taking a private jet, the group of y’all had to walk out onto the actual terminal and hop on an airport golf cart. Which sucked because it was still slightly dark out at 7am and 18 F/-10 C outside! 

As another cart loaded up your suitcases to put them into the plane, your cart started to drive off towards the plane. 

“Oh, Y/N?” Jeff turned to you has he was the one you sat next to in the flurry of events getting to the jet. 

“Hm?” You looked up from your phone, having been scanning through some of the comments on your latest posts. 

“I got a call from the intern and your extra luggage should be meeting up with us in Sweden.” You let the tension in your shoulders fall away from the good news. 

“Thank you so much, it’ll be great to have a fresh set of clothing to choose from.” He gave you a smile and the cart slowed right in front of the high class air mobile you’d soon be in.

Everyone loaded up and before you realized the wheels had left the ground and you were on your way to Stockholm. Squishing into the comfy window seat you’d claimed, happy to be warm again, you pulled your laptop out of your backpack hoping to get through some pictures from the previous show and check up on your emails.

Harry and the band had dispersed throughout the plane, Sarah and Mitch sitting next to each other with the arm rest up so they could snuggle, Clare in the window chair facing opposite them with her book resting on the shared table between them. H was chatting with Jeff and Hélène in the seats in front of yours.

Ding!

1 New Email : Professor Clemet

Hello Y/N,

In regard to your recent email, I’ve spoken to the administrative board and because of your ‘certain situation’ we’ve decided to grant you impromptu abroad study. Please make sure to keep up with the assignments I post to the college online platform, as there are only a few left I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding a good source for photos.

Best of Luck,

Prof

You did a little fist pump in the air as you finished reading the email. You thanked the stars your teacher was okay with you basically missing the rest of the school year. 

A body plopped down into the chair next to you. “Whatcha so happy ‘bout?” Harry asked. 

“My Professor sorta just told me she knows I’m with The Harry Styles and that she doesn’t live under a rock so its fine that I do school online while we tour.” 

He laughed, hitting his head back on the soft headrest.

 “Well, that’s great news love.”

The rest of the flight was uneventful, basically just a bunch of tired musicians taking the couple hours they had to relax before the hustle started again. 

A perk though was that you were all served a breakfast of toast, fruit, and yogurt. It definitely helped having something on your stomach before you had to brave the cold again. 

As you all piled into the SUV Jeff had rented for time there, you turned to Harry who was sitting next to and offhandedly asked, “When do we get to the Air BnB?” 

He looked at you with a confused expression as the car drove out of the airport.

“Huh what ‘re you—“ 

“Great news everyone, I’ve got a surprise!” Jeff said from the passenger’s seat, Hélène driving and paying attention the GPS on the dock.

“I’ve booked an Air BnB for the nights we’re here! It’s a big house that everyone will get to be hang out together in.”

The band cheered and Harry just chuckled, “That’s still so cool Y/N” he said looking up into your eyes again with a grin.

Jeff kept to his word, the house was big and very pristine.

The ceilings were high and boarded with white wood panels. When you entered the house, the living room was to your left; it had a glass doors instead of windows so you could open them all and walk out onto the wrapped around porch. The were two black couches, a large coffee table, and a fluffy cream rug. 

About 15 feet in front of the door was a staircase to the second floor and them to the left of that the entrance to the kitchen. It had a bar that separated the living room and kitchen but space flowing as you could still see anyone from both rooms. The kitchen had a white marble island, the stove was to the back of the wall, the sink was the left wall under a cute window that had small white shutters. 

To your right at the front door was a large glass dining table that had 8 glossy black chairs. 

On the right side of the staircase was a hall way with a sliding door to cut off the living room from the rest of the house. The nearest door was open to a bathroom and them a few more doors that you concluded were bedrooms.

In conclusion, your jaw may have opened when you entered the home.

“Girls call the upstairs bedrooms!” Sarah yelled out, earning a few groans from the boys and patted up the steps with her suitcase in tow.

You followed her as she turned right at the top, taking the first room to the left. You went to 2nd door and rolled your luggage in. 

It was a lovely room, the theme was a soft pastel purple but not too much that it gave you retirement home vibes. The tall ceiling had purple wood panels, the walls white. The white wooden poster bed was against the right wall, it was laid with a violet duvet and pillows with to small matching nightstand on either side.

The opposing wall had an antique dresser and a tv propped on top. To left was a small closet you guessed and to the right of it there was a sliding door to the en suite (that had a claw foot tub!!!!) and at the back wall were glass balcony doors cover with sheer white curtains. 

The last piece of furniture was a desk on the left side of the balcony doors, set with a lamp and some pens in a mason jar.

You flopped on to the bed after you moved your suitcase to the other side of the bed. You took a couple seconds to yourself before sitting up and taking your boots off and hanging your wool coat in the closet then headed downstairs. 

You heard the guys chatting to each other from their rooms, something about if Chelsea boots were superior to Doc Martins? You shook your head and went into the kitchen, you ran your hand across the sleek island counter. 

Then an idea popped into your head.

What if I cook for everyone tonight?

A smile to hold of you face as a plan started to form in your mind. You pulled your phone out and connected to the wifi at the house (thanks to a little sticky note on the fridge with the router and password) and searched up the stores around and what you could probably scrounge up for 7 hungry people. 

You raced upstairs, wrote the address and your grocery list down on a spare piece of paper with one of the mason jar pens. You changed into jeans and threw on a long sleeve undershirt and then black turtleneck, tucking them into your pants. You slipped your wool coat back on, buttoning it up and tying the belt. You tucked your gloves into the pocket with your phone and wallet. 

As you exited your room and entered the living room, you were met with Sarah, Clare and Harry propped up on the the two couches, watching…

“Is that Twilight?” You asked, a bit of a laugh in your question. 

The brown haired boy turned to you at the sound of your voice, “Yes it is, yo’ve got a problem wit’ it?” 

You shook you head, a smile on your face. “I’m going to the market up the road to pick up fixings for dinner tonight, I thought I could cook for everyone as like a big thank you.” 

Sarah cooed at your happy exclamation, “Thats so sweet Y/N, I’ll think I’ll come with you if that’s okay?” 

You nodded, “The more the merrier!” 

Clare stood up from the couch, “Me too, we’ll make it a girls outing.” 

The girls started chatting and headed up stairs to get ready. You turned to the boy in front of you, now wearing a childish frown. 

“What about me?” He whined, flopping back to starfish the couch. 

“Sorry Styles, your hair needs to pass your shoulders, but since you’ve cut yours your out of the girls squad.” 

He shot up from his seat, giving you a loud hey! as you doubled over laughing. Harry stood up and took his wallet out of his pocket, pulling out a sleek black card and tried to hand it to you. 

“If I can’t come, at least let me pay for the groceries.” 

“Harry no! I can’t let you do that, this is my treat!” 

He thrusted it into your hands, “The treat is you making it, I don’t expect you to pay for 7 peoples worth of food as a college student junebug.” 

You blew a raspberry, knowing he was right. “Fine, thank you.” 

He clasped his hands in front of him and bounced on the balls of his feet like her was a kindergartner showing his mothers the macaroni necklace he made for her, “Not a problem lov’.”

The girls and you found the market easily.

You loaded up with zucchini, squash, some chicken breasts, lime and basil minute rice, and some yams. You grabbed a good bottle of wine as well. 

Clare brought over some croissant and chocolate cookie dough, depositing both into the shopping cart. 

Sarah grabbed cheese and crackers, as well as a tub of vanilla ice-cream. 

The three of you checked out and bags in hand, headed back to the Air BnB. It was great time shopping with them, you felt like you got a bit closer to them both which was nice since besides Hélène (who had opted out of the shopping trip in order to look at photos) you were the only girls in the main traveling group. 

Once back at the house, you unloaded the food, putting it away before slicing up the cheese Sarah had bought. You spread some crackers out onto the chopping board you had been using. 

“Where is everyone else?” 

You asked taking your coat, turtleneck, and boots off, then siting down on the couch next to Sarah and Clare. 

The drummer grabbed a piece of cheese from the board while flipping through channels, “I think everyone is catching up on sleep, taking naps or working through emails, that sort of thing.” 

You hummed and snuggled back into the cushions, watching whatever Sarah had set the tv to. The 3 of you watched a few episodes on HGTV, then stumbled upon The Golden Girls, which had you laughing till you sides hurt, and finally switched to The Prince and Me, commenting throughout the movie on the characters and situations they found themselves in. 

As the credits rolled and the girls decided to turn the tv off and head upstairs to take showers, you checked the time. It was around 5:30, so you got up to start cooking. 

As you marinated and seasoned the chicken, you looked to the stove to see where the timer was and instead saw something else that piqued your interest. 

“Surround sound speakers? Hmm.” You tapped the panel that was on the left of the stove, which lit up and read ‘connect via bluetooth’. You grabbed your phone and hooked it up. 

You scrolled through Spotify, debating what to play. 

An idea popped into your head and you nodded to yourself, then clicked play on your playlist.

Hey, hey, hey, hey

Hey, hey, hey

Hey, hey, hey, hey

Hey, hey, hey

You started singing to yourself, setting the timer once you found it and popping the chicken and yams into the oven. You chopped the freshly washed zucchini and squash, clicking your heels together and bopping your head to the beat. 

Sarah, accompanied by Clare and Hélène, came into the kitchen.

Simmer down, simmer down

They say we're too young now to amount to anything else

But look around

We worked too damn hard for this just to give it up now

If you don't swim, you'll drown

But don't move, honey

You put the knife down and picked up the spatula, using it as a microphone and pointing to Clare.

“You look so perfect standing there

In my American Apparel underwear

And I know now, that I'm so down

Your lipstick stain is a work of art

I got your name tattooed in an arrow heart

And I know now, that I'm so doooooown!”

You sang, twirling her around as she laughed. 

“Hey Y/N, can I pop this wine?” Hélène asked. 

“Go for it.” 

Sarah found some glasses as the resident photographer got the cork popper.

Hey! Hey, hey, hey, hey

Hey, hey, hey

Grabbing a pan and cover, you turned a stove burner on and put the zucchini and squash with a glob of butter plus salt and pepper in to cook. 

The girls sat at the bar, so you came over of the kitchen section to parade around the foyer/living room area.

Let's get out, let's get out

'Cause this deadbeat town's only here just to keep us down

While I was out, I found myself alone just thinking

If I showed up with a plane ticket

And a shiny diamond ring with your name on it

Would you wanna run away too?

'Cause all I really want is you

Before belting, you checked to see if the hallway door was slid closed, thankfully it was so you turned back to your audience and gave the performance of a lifetime.

You look so perfect standing there

In my American Apparel underwear

And I know now, that I'm so down

I made a mix-tape straight out of '94

I've got your ripped skinny jeans lying on the floor

And I know now, that I'm so down

Hey! Hey, hey, hey hey

Hey, hey, hey, hey

You look so perfect standing there

In my American Apparel underwear

And I know now, that I'm so down

Your lipstick stain is a work of art

I got your name tattooed in an arrow heart

And I know now, that I'm so down

During the song, you paused your jamming to see from your peripheral vision the sliding door open. 

A just woken Harry came out in jeans and a t-shirt. 

“Ohmylord, the food smells delicious. What’re you up to?” 

He asked, watching you dance around him. 

You smiled, “We’re singing!”

“Couldn’t you at least be singing one of my songs?” He huffed.

Hey! Hey, hey, hey, hey

Hey, hey, hey, hey

Hey, hey, hey

You look so perfect standing there

In my American Apparel underwear

And I know now, that I'm so down (hey!)

Your lipstick stain is a work of art

You checked on the food, putting your make shift microphone down. 

“Y/N can you turn the volume up for next song?” 

Sarah asked while Harry snatched a sip of her wine. 

“Sure” you said and moved the dial up, making the end of the song louder.

I got your name tattooed in an arrow heart

And I know now, that I'm so down

“I can’t believe you listen to this Y/N, I’d never pegged you as a boy band type of girl.” H laughed. 

You walked back over to the group as the ending notes of the song died out.

“Hopefully something better comes on.” He quipped.

You're insecure

Don't know what for

Everyone froze. 

Harry’s back was to you as he had started for the couch, you were scared he might not be to happy to hear one of his pervious band hits. 

You could see the girls at the bar waiting with baited breath.

You're turning heads when you walk through the door

Don't need make-up to cover up

Being the way that you are is enough

You saw him take a big breath and you immediately started into an apology.

Everyone else in the room can see it

Everyone else but you

“Harry, I’m so sorry I’ll go turn it off—“

“Baby, you light up my world like nobody else

The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed

But when you smile at the ground it ain't hard to tell

You don't know, oooooooh ooooh

You don't know you're beautiful!”

You gawked as Harry bursted into song, all the girls’ shoulder’s sagging in relief. He came dancing over to you, twisting his hips to the song.

If only you saw what I can see

You'll understand why I want you so desperately

Right now I'm looking at you and I can't believe

You don't know, oh oh

You don't know you're beautiful, oh oh

That's what makes you beautiful

You both sang to your hearts content, holding hands and twirling each other underneath your arms.

So co-come on, you got it wrong

To prove I'm right, I put it in a song

I don't know why, you're being shy

And turn away when I look into your eye-eye-eyes

Everyone else in the room can see it

Everyone else but you

Baby, you light up my world like nobody else

The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed

But when you smile at the ground it ain't hard to tell

You don't know, oh oh

You don't know you're beautiful

If only you saw what I can see

You'll understand why I want you so desperately

Right now I'm looking at you and I can't believe

You don't know, oh oh

You don't know you're beautiful, oh oh

That's what makes you beautiful

“Na na na na na na na na na na… Na na na na na na…” He sang into your face with a scrunched nose, making it sound high pitched and squeaky. 

You sang the same thing back to him, the same sort of strange sound coming out of your mouth.

Baby, you light up my world like nobody else

The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed

But when you smile at the ground it ain't hard to tell

(You don't know, oh oh)

You don't know you're beautiful

Harry turned and bounded over the coffee table, hoping up onto it and belting the chorus.

Baby, you light up my world like nobody else

The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed

But when you smile at the ground it ain't hard to tell

You don't know, oh oh

You don't know you're beautiful

Grabbing your phone, you snapped a picture of the crazy rockstar on the table top to post later.

If only you saw what I can see

You'll understand why I want you so desperately

Harry made eye contact and pointed to you dramatically, serenading you with this specific part of the song.

Right now I'm looking at you and I can't believe

You don't know, oh oh

You don't know you're beautiful, oh oh

You don't know you're beautiful, oh oh

That's what makes you beautiful

The song ended and applause erupted in the room, but you both held eye contact, breathing heavily from all the movement. 

It was, strange, it’s like you seeing him in a new light all of a sudden. 

A hand on your shoulder pulled you out of the trance, “That was fantastic! Oh gosh Harry you scared us for a second—“ 

Sarah went onto chat about the band and you shook your head slightly as you walked back to keep cooking.

Whatever that was, it’s over now so don’t dwell on it.

A half hour later, the food was served and the whole group was seated to dig in. You received a few mmm!s and Oh how I’ve missed home cooked meals, suffice to say: they liked it.

After plates were half empty, people started to chat a bit more, taking their time to finish. 

“So Y/N, We about your crazy powers, can you tell us a bit more about you?” 

Clare asked. You eagerly nodded and patted your mouth with the napkin before starting.

“Well, I’m in my senior year at NYU, studying Photography & Media Arts with a minor in Creative Writing.” 

“That’s so cool! NYU?” Sarah commented. 

You nodded and took a sip of water, “Ya, moved to Larchmont as a kid and got residency in New York and then worked my butt off to send a good portfolio in. But some miracle that accepted it and I got a scholarship on top of it which, not gonna lie, I bursted into tears on the subway when I read the email.” 

Jeff scoffed, “I bet the superstar across the table couldn’t get into community college now if he tried.” 

The table laughed at Jeff’s nudge to Harry and the offended expression he wore. 

“Hey, I think I’d do pretty well! Even NYU!” 

“Oh my Harry darling,” 

You leaned on the table to get a bit closer, 

“No Gucci loafers aloud.” 

The group bursted into laughter as they watched Harry’s antics of waving his arms around in an X shape and mouthing NO. 

You continued, 

“I’m afraid you’d either get eaten alive by the business majors or absorbed into the philosophy department and never talk to anyone else again.”

The boys offered to clean up after which you were grateful for. 

You took a shower and changed into new pjs!!! As your suitcases had been delivered to the house from the flight they came over on. 

You came down the stairs in your dark navy long sleeve and legged satin ensemble (don’t forget the fuzzy socks!) to see what everyone was up to. 

The dishes were done and care was busy making the cookies she had bought.

 You flopped down next to H, it was like second nature for the both of you; while he watched Clueless he opened an arm up for you and you snuggled down into his side, propping you phone up on his stomach to post the picture you’d taken. 

“What do you think?” You held the phone up to his face.

“I look good, post it.”  You nudged him with you shoulder and smiled. 

You did have to admit, he did look good.

The concert was amazing, of course. 

You were sad to be leaving the Air BnB, but alas you had to go. 

Jeff and Mitch loaded the last of the luggage into the SUV and you all climbed in at the early time of 5:30 to get to the tour bus that was still parked at the arena.

“Bye Stockholm.” 

You whispered as you looked out the window of your bunk bed in the tour bus, inner curtain closed and ready to sleep again. 

You took one more glance, and then closed the window curtain.

<3

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