#he had such a longgggg face in the silver age

[sisaloofafump]

Idk if there’s anything else to say except: Oops! All Superman! (Silver Age Edition)

(Lois is the actual one who’s supposed to be in the middle, I just thought this would be funny and then spent way too long on it)

[sugarcoated-pain]

Heavy Rotation Part One

Here comes my first ever 5SOS fanfic! This series is a collaboration with the remarkable @sublimehood and we are super excited to finally share it with all of you! Let me know what you think! (unless you hate it, then keep that shit to yourself :P) 

Quick synopsis: New Girl meets Empire Records. All the boys are in this one, but with particular focus on Ashton <3 

Warnings: I cuss a lot *shrugs* . Also, this shit is LONGGGGG haha. 

Heavy Rotation- Part One 

Nothing had ever looked as beautiful as the city lights that lay ahead as the Greyhound sped toward Los Angeles. It wasn’t the lights themselves that appealed to me. Growing up less than two hours outside of New York City, it would take much more than that to impress this girl. No, it was the absolute freedom and opportunity for a whole new life that this magical new city held that had me glued to the window with excitement. I pulled one ear bud out to listen to the driver’s announcement with arrival details as I began gathering my belongings I had scattered across both seats in my row, as well as the row across from me. Books, notebooks full of song lyrics, my acoustic guitar, food wrappers, random articles of clothing and all kinds of miscellaneous shit were strewn all over. Sixty five hours was far too damn long to be cooped up in a moving vehicle, despite stopping several times. I had just gathered the last of my things at the very moment the bus came to a stop at the station.

After collecting my checked bag from the bus’s underbelly, I stopped for a moment to take it all in. The sun was just starting to rise and wash over the city with a soft, warm glow. Knowing nowhere I needed to be would be open this early, breakfast at the McDonald’s across the street from the station was sounding pretty damn good. I sat alone in a booth surrounded by the only possessions I owned that mattered anymore, and scrolling through musicians forums online on my cell phone. One particular neighborhood, Silver Lake, kept coming up in discussions and I just knew that was where I needed to start my search. If I were a normal, sane human, I should be utterly terrified of the fact that I just moved across the country with about two percent of a plan for my future, but I am not, in fact, a normal or sane human. It was exhilarating to not have a clue where I was sleeping that night, and to know that if I wanted to get anywhere in this city, I had to bust my ass to do it.

I let a couple of hours pass until it seemed like I might actually be able to accomplish something, hopped in a cab, and instructed the driver to take me to his favorite spot in Silver Lake, which turned out to be this killer little locally owned coffee shop. Don’t mind if I do! Dragging my few belongings along with a latte in hand, I begin my hunt for anything that looks like it involves music and might be hiring. I couldn’t possibly have expected this to be easy, right? Every recording studio, indie radio station and music store for at least a mile was extremely quick to kick this East Coast girl with way too much shit in her hands right back to the curb. That mildly uneasy feeling in my stomach, that probably would have started for anyone else back at the bus station in Jersey, began to creep up on me. I had enough cash in my beat- up handbag to get me maybe a week in a seedy motel, but what happened after that if I didn’t find a job IMMEDIATELY, I am not ready to start thinking about yet.

This situation requires more coffee. I make my back to Mr. Taxi Driver’s favorite coffee shop, order my drink, and skim the bulletins next to the counter while waiting. Somebody, somewhere must be hiring and/or looking for a roommate, right?

“Large cold brew, coconut milk and a shot of espresso.” the barista calls, setting my drink down. But at the exact moment I reach for it, someone else does too. A large hand accidentally covers mine, and I instinctively look up to see who it belongs to. The most gorgeous hazel eyes I have ever had the privilege of seeing lock with mine. His curly dirty blonde hair falling casually in his face, that chiseled jawline, that dimpled smile- holy crap. This is one seriously beautiful human being. Something inside me vaguely in the vicinity of my stomach decides it wants to be a gymnast all of the sudden and begins performing somersaults. I feel my cheeks flush slightly and finally remember to pull my hand away.

“Sorry. I assumed it was mine, but please. Take it.” The handsome stranger insists.

“Thanks,” I reply. “Pretty unusual order. I’ve never met anyone else who drank this.” I state, awkwardly. What the hell. Who even am I right now? I am NOT awkward. Pull yourself together, bitch.

The barista calls the same order once again, and Mr. Beautiful grabs it with smirk. “Cheers.” he says, holding his drink in the air in my direction. I playfully clink my plastic cup against his, and then I notice his eyes flutter to my guitar case on my arm. “Are you a musician?” he asks.

“Aspiring. You?” I answer, avoiding looking in his eyes to regain my confidence and for fear of never being able to stop.

“Also aspiring. I work for a recording studio part time but I’m also in a band, which is completely LA cliche, but they are some of the best musicians in this city. You should check us out sometime. Oh, I’m Ashton, by the way.” He says while flashing that mesmerizing smile once again and holding his hand out to shake mine. I reach for it. Dear god, those hands. The kind of hands that make you wonder what they’re really capable of…

“Emma,” I reply, regaining my composure and flashing a flirty smile. “This recording studio you speak of wouldn’t happen to be hiring by any chance, would it?”

“Hmm, I don’t think so, but ya know, it never hurts to ask.” he replies, as he reaches over the counter to grab the barista’s sharpie and a small napkin. I’m incapable of pulling my eyes off this flawless creature as he jots something down. “Here’s the address. Go in through the record store and ask for Liz. She should be there after 1pm today.” he adds as he hands me the napkin.

“Thanks! I didn’t think I’d run into someone so willing to help around here.” I reply excitedly, taking it from him a little too slowly and deliberately rubbing my fingers against his again.

“I’ve gotta get back to work, but hopefully I’ll see you around.” Ashton says with another goddamned smile as he walks away.

What the hell just happened to me? I feel like I got punched in the gut. I pick my bag up from off the floor, and drag it with my guitar and drink to the nearest table. Checking the time on my cell phone, I realize it is only 11:30am. So, looks like I’m sitting here daydreaming about what just happened for the next hour and a half. But that’s it though, that nagging voice in my head insists. Just daydreaming. No man is getting in the way of my music.

“UGH I know, I know.” I sigh to myself out loud. The elderly couple next to me turns to me with puzzled expressions on their faces, and I simply smile back at them and turn back to my phone.

The walk to the record store wasn’t far, so I gathered up my things and decided to go there shortly after one o'clock. The black sign above the door read “Heavy Rotation” in an edgy, handwritten-looking font. I take a deep breath and enter the record store Ashton had written on the napkin. An attractive guy around my age with electric blue hair is sitting on a stool with his feet propped up on the counter next to the cash register flipping through what appears to be a rock n roll magazine. He doesn’t even blink when I walk in. “Welcome to Heavy Rotation. Let me know if you need any help.” He says, in a somewhat disgruntled tone, still not looking up.

“Hi,” I greet him as I approach the counter, “I’m looking for Liz? And also, I like your hair.”

He glances up and looks me up and down, as if appraising the situation. “Thanks, I like yours too.” My fire engine red ombre look wasn’t properly appreciated in small-town New Jersey, but I knew LA would understand.“Gimme a sec, I’ll go get Liz.” Blue-haired guy walks to the back of the room, and I take the opportunity to glance around. It’s perfect. A little dark, very “offbeat”- retro but with a cutting-edge vibe; low ceiling, eclectic lighting, rows upon rows of records, vintage and new alike. The store itself is much larger than it appears from the outside, as it stretches far back into the building. A deep purple velvet curtain covers a doorway on the right side of the room, separate from where Blue-Hair went into, and I have a sneaking suspicion the recording studio lies beyond. A thrill creeps up my spine. Solely over the concept of being so close to where music is actually produced, and having absolutely nothing at all to do with the fact that the flawless man from the coffee shop is most likely behind that curtain.

Blue-hair comes back with a blonde lady, whom one could deduce is Liz. I approach her with my hand outstretched. “Hi, Liz? I’m Emma. I met Ashton at a coffee shop and he thought I might be able to talk you into a possible job around here?”

She shakes my hand while looking me up and down, eyes lingering for a moment on my guitar. “I bet he did.” she replies with a small chuckle. Not really sure what the hell that’s supposed to mean… “It’s nice to meet you, Emma. I’m sorry, hon, but we aren’t hiring at the moment.”

“Please. I’m sorry to sound pushy and desperate but I’ll do anything you need. There has to be SOMETHING I could do here.” I press, attempting to keep the panic out of my voice.

“Well, what makes you think you would be a good fit here?” Liz asks, eyeing me interestedly.

I take a deep breath. “I have wanted to be a musician for as long as I can remember. I’ve been singing since before I could talk and music has always been my number one passion in life. I know more about music than most people twice my age. I just graduated from music school and realized the east coast scene wasn’t right for me and that I needed to get away from everything there, and hopped a Greyhound bus four days ago to come here and be close to the music. I just want to work a job with music while I work toward my dream. And, not to judge or anything, but looking at this place you’ve got here, I’d say you seem like the type of person who can appreciate that.”

Liz studies me once more, and then slowly answers. “Well, I think we could use a little help with cleaning and organizing between the store and the studio. I won’t be able to give you a ton of hours, and the pay won’t be much. Still something you’re interested in?”

“YES! I mean.. Yeah I think I could make that work.” I reply eagerly.

“Alright then. Come back to the office with me and we can sort out all the details and legal crap.”

Thirty minutes later, I follow Liz out of the office for her to give me the grand tour. Realizing I’m still lugging around everything I own, I ask, “..you wouldn’t happen to know anyone in the area who is looking for a roommate, would you?”

Blue-hair perks up from the behind the cash register, “did you say roommate? Are you looking for a place to stay?”

“Mikey… I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.” Liz chimes in immediately.

Glancing back and forth between the two of them, I turn back to Mikey, “uh, yeah I am. Do you know a place?”

“I live upstairs with my friends and we currently happen to be looking for a roommate!” he replies enthusiastically.

“Well that sounds almost too perfect… can I see the space?” I ask, ignoring the look of disapproval on Liz’s face.

“Liz, mind if I abandon my post for a minute to run her upstairs?” Mikey asks.

She sighs, and then nods.

I stash my stuff in a corner of the store and follow him up the stairs. The building is pretty old, but in the cool, artsy, vintage way and not the nasty, dilapidated old. When we reach the second floor landing, Mike pulls out a set of keys and unlocks the front door. One could definitely tell that only guys lived there, but that they appeared to have attempted to straighten up a bit. Growing up with 3 brothers, none of this phases me. The architecture was naturally gorgeous but there was really no other decor. Mismatched couches and chairs surrounded an extremely nice and unnecessarily large TV which was surrounded by various video game consoles.

“So, this is the living room. The kitchen is over there. Uh.. there’s only one bathroom, so that kinda sucks, but it’s right here.” Mikey says as he gestures me through the space. “And this here, is your room.”

It was a small room with just a twin sized bed and a small dresser already furnished. Nothing fancy, just the basics, which is exactly what I need at this moment. “How much is the rent?” I ask him.

“Uhh.. so we hadn’t really talked about it yet but considering that Luke’s parents own the building, we pretty much just each pay what we can…” he answers.

“Luke?”

“OH, yeah he’s one of my roommates and Liz’s son, I think he’s home actually, I can introduce you. HEY LUKE!” he shouts across the apartment. Moments later, a tall, good-looking blonde boy steps into the living area. “Luke, this is Emma.. your mom just hired her downstairs, and she needs a place to stay so I’m showing her the extra room.”

“Oh, hey. Nice to meet you, Emma. What do you think so far?” Luke answers, walking over to us.

“Hey,” I answer. “I think it’s perfect actually.” I bite my lip to try and hold back the smile that threatened to expose me. Was every single person who has anything to do with this building good looking?

“Can I ask what brings you to LA?” Luke asks.

“The typical, aspiring musician. But it’s everything I’ve ever wanted. I met Ashton at the coffee shop, he thought you guys might be able to help me out.” I’ve probably said too much.

“I hope so. When can you move in?” Luke asks, and Mikey gets overly excited beside me.

“I um...right now?” I laugh a little awkwardly.

“Perfect.” Luke flashes a smile that would make any girl weak in the knees. But it’s nothing compared to the dimpled one I had the pleasure of witnessing on Ashton’s face.

Things might be going my way a little too conveniently. OR maybe this is the universe’s way of telling me this is exactly where I belong. The guys offer to give me a tour of the recording studio, which I jump at since it’s basically all that’s on my mind right now. When we get back downstairs, they introduce me to a pretty dark-haired girl by the name of Georgia who works in the record store.

“Oh thank god! We need more girls around here!” she sighs with relief as she shakes my hand. She and Mikey both get back to work as Luke leads me through the curtain I had seen earlier toward the recording studio. This is it. This is what I came here for. Excitement starts building, and I’m going to pretend it’s exclusively over the possibility of finally being able to make music, NOT because I know the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen might also be somewhere behind that curtain.

The recording studio is everything I ever imagined and more. Dark walls, sleek black furniture and decor, framed awards and photos of celebrities lining the walls.  When we enter, Luke introduces me to Calum, their tall, dark and handsome ‘other roommate’ who also happens to be Georgia’s boyfriend. I mentally answer my previous question- yes, every single person associated with this building is drop-dead gorgeous.

“Other roommate?? How many people live up there?!” I ask, half amused, half concerned.

“Don’t worry,” Luke assures me, “you get your own room. We worked out a system for the rest of us….”

“.. I don’t wanna know…” I say darkly.

Both guys laugh. “Don’t worry, it’s just us, Mikey and Ashton.” Calum replies.

I choke on air at his last word. “Ashton? The guy I met at the coffee shop? HE is also our roommate??”

As if on cue, Ashton comes into the main area through a door to the left. “Hey! Emma, isn’t it? Looks like you found the place!”

“My mom hired her to help out around here, and she’s also gonna take the spare bedroom upstairs.” Luke adds.

A look passes over Ashton’s face, just briefly. What is that look? Surprise? Disappointment? Concern? It’s gone before I can even register what the hell that might be about, and his winning smile is back. “Wow! Awesome! Well, welcome.”

Just as I’m about to reply, a thin, fake-tanned girl with long blonde hair struts into the studio like she owns the place. “Hey babe, are you off work yet? You said you’d be done an hour ago.” She whines, making her way over to Ashton and wrapping her arms around his waist.

I try hard not to show any signs that my stomach plummeted through the floor at the sight of them together. Let her have him. You didn’t sit on a disgusting bus for sixty five hours to meet guys. You’re here for music. He would only distract you.

“Camille, this is Emma. She’s gonna be working with us and also renting out the spare bedroom upstairs. Emma, this is my girlfriend, Camille.” Ashton introduces us. Is it just in my head or was there something about the way he said the word ‘girlfriend’?

Camille eyes me up and down, clearly debating whether or not I might be a threat. I make the first move. “It’s great to meet you! Nice to know I won’t be constantly surrounded by only guys..” I extend my hand to shake hers. She hesitates before taking it, and doesn’t say anything. So that’s how it’s gonna be.

Ashton and Camille leave the studio together. Everybody else goes about their business, so I head back to where I had stashed my belongings in the record store and take them upstairs, to my new home. I look around as I enter it again, taking everything in. When I get to the bedroom, I toss my stuff on the floor and collapse on the bed. I made it. I did it. I am actually living in Los Angeles. Now, to survive.

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight