#every weekend he takes all the band members on the car to the gym and stays there longer than anyone else
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Okay I have no sketches fuck this, but I have silly sims screenshots instead. The time has come again eventually.
#the sims 3#pink floyd#roger waters#rick wright#syd barrett#richard wright#sims 3#sims 3 screenshots#the first two photos actually connected#roger just couldn't stop criticising rick and he gave him side eyes instead#I just give them free will and surprisingly they always act canonically so I don't even need to interrupt#btw roger became sport freak even without sporty trait#every weekend he takes all the band members on the car to the gym and stays there longer than anyone else#my internet died so all I do and can do is playing the sims I'm not some freaky nerd toesucker please#also I should stop killing families to squeeze pini floi members in the houses made for little kids and build my own#instead I'm building huge tormentor schools in style of brutalism stalinism oh yeah#I need a therapist
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i still stan capra chapter 4 so hard it literally lives in my brain nonstop,,,, you should totally share those deleted scenes if you ever are up to writing them,,, 🤫🤫🤫
Living in your head rent free :)
And... hah, well since you asked so nicely, here’s a little bit of the Rostock gang. As a treat
Edward blinked. “Run that by me again?”
Mr. Carcido toyed mindlessly with his cargo. “I’d like to know if you want to—“
“No, I got that part.” The blond interrupted, his eyebrows starting to climb upwards in confusion. “But why can’t you just take it with you?”
The man sighed. “There’s a good chance it’ll get ruined in the luggage car anyways, and it’s old... I would’ve needed a new one anyways.”
He paused to give Edward a hopeful look. “D’ya want it?”
“Uh, yeah. Yes.”
There’d be no harm from that, right? He couldn’t think of anything trouble lest it was leaping from an adventure novel.
Mr. Carcido smiled at him and handed Edward the case. It was lighter than he expected, rattling lightly.
“Don’t break it!” The man called as he backed away. Edward rolled his eyes like an omelette in a pan and huffed.
“Ye of little faith...”
-
“It’s left handed.”
Noah tilted her head, chin resting on her palms. “Can you still use it?”
He nodded. “It actually might be better. I won’t have to get any more callouses.”
-
Dev dragged Edward down the steps with the strength only held in his pinky. “It’ll be fun!” He assured, as if he would be giving Edward a choice anyways. “You’ve been working on that propeller fuel—“
“Propulsion fuel.” Ed corrected. Dev shook his head with a tireless smile.
“That. It hurts just looking at you all bent over day and night.” They reached the main floor. Noah trailed behind with Percy resting on her shoulders, diligently trying to figure out how to braid her hair whilst not fall flat on his face.
His balance was wavering, but Noah managed to keep him from loosing a tooth via intimate-stair-acquaintanceship. If a tightrope walker could see, they’d be rolling out a red carpet for her with praise on the lips.
“He’s right, Ed. You’re practically a hermit.” She said lightly, in an act of absolute betrayal. Dev kept an arm looped through Edward’s, practically skipping down the from steps and into the street, adored with the honey-glow of dusk.
“Hey! I took Percy down to the boat show, didn’t I?” He protested. From the corner of his eye, Edward saw Dev holding a battered case, swinging it causally with his steps and he had half a mind to snap at the older man to be more careful.
“That was two weeks ago.” Noah reminded him Edward sighed and resigned to being hauled down the road, stubbornness never letting up. They marched down the old walkway like a band of merry fools, two sets of lips happily using Edward as target practice for their loving jabs and teases. He grabbed each projectile and fired back in turn. It was their act.
“They just want you to hear you play.” Percy told him with his head cocked to the side. He was the poster boy for puppy eyes and Edward’s remaining resolve was snatched up and tossed into a nearby sewer drain. He grumbled and shot a glare to Dev, who was smirking like a fiend.
He sighed. “You all suck.”
At least the pub was only a few blocks away. It flooded the rapidly dimming street with ringlets of light and screamed with laugher and gossip.
He couldn’t deny that it was infectious.
Dev dropped Edward into a seat and started shoving tables aside to a chorus of gleeful, half drunk cheers. Edward shook his head and let Percy jump up onto his knee. Noah chattered politely with the patrons and took them by the arm, leading them to the open space and pointing to their feet. It was the same look she wore on weekends when she managed to convince (on occasion blackmail) Edward into a square-step, but just a bit brighter.
A staff member wandered over to Ed as he fiddled with the pegs and Percy seemed to forget the blond wasn’t, in fact, a jungle gym and was hanging from his shoulders.
“Aye, what’ve you got there?”
He glanced up to find a pair of curious eyes framed by crows feet. Edward felt an involuntary smile tug at his lips. Maybe a little bit of smugness found it’s way into his tone “Mandolin.”
The man nodded thoughtfully. “Well can you play?”
“I can.”
He hummed. “Good. We’ve been needing some music ‘round here.”
Edward saluted him and exchanged a look with Noah. She’d grabbed every willing participant and positioned them like pieces of chess on a board.
He spewed The Sailors Hornpipe over the pub and watch people spin, tangling into knots so dense it would take tweezers and a magnifying glass to sort it out. Noah led the charge, battle ready and beaming with Dev close behind.
A fiddler appeared out of nowhere and strung out notes so rapid and warm it made the night feel lighter than the day. An old man padded over and sat crosslegged on the floor, chanter in hand.
“What happened to the rest of it?” Edward asked over the noise.
“Nothing,” He gave a toothy smile, “I just didn’t want to blow the walls down.”
Edward scoffed. “Fair point. How do you feel about Sweeney’s Buttermilk?”
They took off soaring and somehow he managed to keep his head screwed on and mindlessly play well into the night, gracelessly leaping from improvisation to old tunes, somehow blended seamlessly with the sounds of swaying footsteps.
So yeah, maybe he’d spent some free time working through chords and pilfering music books from a second hand shop.
He watched from the benches as a the massive group skipped and bustled. They ran from side-steps into a Circassian Circle that doubled and tripled in sized until the floor shook and the space was too small.
Percy looked like he was having to time of his life, giggling and handing on to people’s hands, being practically tossed in loops.
Dev sauntered over to kick Edward out of his seat and take up vigil cause apparently he’d picked up a few songs here and there. “Go put those left feet to use Goldie.”
“You,” Edward started, “are the worst.”
“Don’t I know it.”
Noah went diving for his hand, snatching his wrist and dragging him into an eightsome reel and fucking hell did it make him dizzy. It also made him laugh like an idiot and grin.
#capra fma#I promise most of the delete scenes are just shenanigans and fun#a couple are a wee bit sadder but like..#MOSTLY just vibing#anyways.. I really wanted in include 'ed plays a thing' but when I wrote it in it just felt too cluttered#feel free to take it as Capra canon though! no one will stop you#I certainly wont#in encourage you to!#cece writes#I need a tag for asks so bam#Rostock gang#fma#fma 03
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Born To Love You [Part: 3]
summary: When Gwilym ropes you into a lie, the truth becomes painfully obvious. When Joe makes things harder, there's no telling if he even has a clue.
a/n: Forgive me for taking a while! Life has been properly wild. And I was taking my time with this story anyway, I really want each chapter to be special... So I hope you lot dig this one! All the feedback and love continues to overflow my little old heart! 💖
w/c: 6k
Part 4
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
If you got to have it your way, you'd avoid going on set and gladly greet Gwilym every night and odd day off. But if Gwilym wouldn't take no for an answer, you did your best to hide out in his trailer, avoid suspicion and keep your fake husband happy all the same. But because Gwilym had made such fast friends of his co-stars, some invitations were unavoidable. When Ben called you both to join him and the others for lunch in some posh garden lodge, you slapped on a big grin and agreed.
The lodge was back behind a mess of trees, it's sign faded by the sun that shone down on the place like it was on display by the heavens. You followed behind Gwil on a gravel path. And before you could reach the steps that lead to the eatery, a voice called out from the opposite fork in the trail.
"Hey!" Ben's recognizable timbre echoed from behind a row of trees, as you whipped your head to see him waving from the bench of a weathered picnic table.
The rest of the cast had taken over a small jungle gym. Rami claimed the only swing, its rickety bubblegum poles threatening to uproot. Lucy and Joe were squealing on opposite ends of a seesaw. And when Joe noticed you and Gwilym had joined the picnic table across the way, he practically launched Lucy off of her end of the equipment in his hurry to come and greet you.
And there it was again; that look. The one Joe gave you when you met. The one that made your heart stir just thinking about it. If his gaze painted your daydrems, meeting his eyes in real time was spellbinding. This was why you stayed away. Because you couldn’t help but stare.
Olive cackled in your arms as Lucy cursed Joe's name from the place she'd fallen in the mulch. All at once everyone passed around warm greetings, then hurried back to the play place, arguing over turns to help Olive down the slide like antsy siblings on the first day of recess.
"Alright, I invited you all here for the food! We can have fun later. I'm starving." Ben coxed, waving for everyone to follow him indoors at last. You had just beaten Rami at a rain worn hopscotch game painted on the path that led inside. He kept walking to follow Ben, and when you turned back, you spotted Joe lifting Olive up and pointing to a pair of sparrows settled on a branch near the play place.
The only thing that stopped you from melting into a puddle was catching Gwilym's eye. There was a smile behind his expression and a look in his gaze, a little like a warning, but more like a dare.
"Joe, I would ask if you want children one day but the answer seems pretty obvious." Lucy laughed on her saunter toward your side.
"You should really be asking Rami these kinds of questions, Lucy," Joe said, causing Gwilym to laugh hard. Lucy linked her arm with yours, leading you away from the scene and toward a steadier heartbeat, you hoped.
The lodge was made up of a couple of dozen miss-matched tables and chairs, occupied by a few other chilly looking patrons sipping warm drinks. There was even a small gift shop in the corner, where most of your crew scattered toward.
You followed Gwil to a cozy little table and left Olive in his lap while you took his order to the counter across the room. A sweet young girl with warm curls and the perfect smile was happy to hand you a couple of pastries and informed that someone would bring out the hot drinks you ordered. You thanked her and eased to rest across from Gwilym and your girl.
You mindlessly noshed on sweet blueberry bread when your drinks came but you failed to ignore when Joe flirted with the girl behind the pastry counter. Gwilym wasn't helping. He offered no distractions, or conversation as you listened in on Joe's sickening exchange with the girl who had just been as nice to you.
"A large vanilla frappe and a complimentary cinnamon muffin because you're so sweet." The freckle-faced girl giggled, repeating back his order with a special modification of her own.
Joe was genuinely thankful at the gesture, a treat from the universe. He lingered in front of the counter a little longer, but you had to block out the continued chat. Something like this seemed to happen every time you'd wound up near Joe.
You noticed when he got free muffins, favorite songs on the car radio, pennies on the sidewalk. He cradled these gifts and called them his own, because they were. And it was a precious sight to behold. You couldn't shake the wish splintered within you; that you might be one of those things he held onto so dearly.
"Hey!" Gwilym actually threw a raisin at you. It bounced from your brow onto the floor as you turned back in shock.
"Stop staring you look like a sad puppy," Gwilym warned through his teeth, holding Olive in his lap as she reached for the cup of tea he lifted to his lips.
You let out a sorry whine as a memory of your arrival at the top of this hill flashed across your mind. Joe's shimmering eyes locking onto yours while something electric buzzed through his glare. You slumped your head onto the marble tabletop and continued to pathetically groan like Tina from Bob's Burgers.
"Am I... interrupting something?" Joe's stupidly recognizable voice cut through your self-pity. You just lifted your head with a neutral smile.
He pulled up a seat from a mismatched table, setting his drink down. You reached for your own and leaned back, pretending to be preoccupied with your coffee. Joe cast a curious look to Gwilym who was sharing apple slices with his daughter.
"Must be nap time." Gwilym stretched a silly smile across his face looking to Joe.
"Ha ha." You mocked.
"You guys gotta try this muffin," Joe demanded.
You let out a hopeless chuckle while Gwilym shook his head at you with a sorry grin. It was such an unfunny, funny little predicament you found yourself in. Maybe laughing about it was good. Maybe you were getting through this...
"There's a bar upstairs!" Lucy chirped, skipping over to settle between Gwilym and Joe, bringing along a chair, it legs scraping on the hardwood. The other boys followed...
"And there's a band playing in an hour." The girl was making plans, casting big eyes to the boys who knew the question behind her statement. Lucy explained that Rami had already planned to sleep the rest of his weekend off and that she was desperate to have a little fun. Joe had plans with Ben, and Gwilym was exhausted, too.
"I'll pay for our drinks and our ride back." Lucy turned her big sad eyes your way.
"You should stay! We can manage, just us two, done it before haven't we?" Gwilym spoke up, bouncing Olive in his lap. It was a sweet offer but the way he alluded to being on his own with Olive made your heart clench. It was almost like he wanted someone to find out you weren’t so often around each other. You noticed a look on Ben's face, pushed in brows at the sound of Gwilym's tone.
"Are you sure?" You asked, almost reminding him that you were supposed to be acting like you'd never spent a day without each other since your made up honeymoon.
"Yeah, of course," Gwyilm assured, softer now. And whatever worry had sprouted in you, was settled with the nod of Gwilym's head. You took note then of how he always knew just how to put you at ease, even if he hadn't realized he was the one who caused your apprehension.
///
Upstairs was made up of fairy lights, a well stocked mini bar, a small stage where an old married couple sat strumming guitars, and very few audience members. And while you and Lucy did your best to clap after every song, you just wound up getting lost in conversation.
Lucy was on her third cocktail. You stuck to water after your second. And between drinks, you laughed over nothing in the way that made your heart ache with melancholy for the day moments like this were only memories.
When there was more ice in her drink than alcohol, Lucy started in on some monologue about life, and love, and Rami. She rambled about how she felt about him, and how she was sure he must have felt about her.
You had no doubt that they were close to perfect for each other. But Lucy headed into chattering about their first fight, and how petrified of losing him she was. How she wanted to shower Rami with love, but was afraid she wasn't good enough for the job.
"Did you feel that way with Gwil at first? How are things now, after so long together?" Lucy seemed to plead for her own clarity.
You let out a humorless chuckle. "Things with us have always been... complicated." You thought, choosing your words carefully even in your happily buzzed state. Lucy kept her gaze zeroed in on you, waiting to hear more.
"Even now. We've never been better... or worse. All at once." You gave a shrug, and Lucy raised her brow in obvious surprise.
You and Gwil always talked about things before diving into them together. That changed when he missed the opportunity to take back his usually forgivable lie. But the talking stopped. Life with Gwyilm became uncomfortably familiar. You'd never shared so many wordless looks.
"Well, better is good, yeah?" Lucy gently suggested, more like she was hoping for herself.
"Yeah, I guess so." You decided, because that's all you could do. That seemed good enough for Lucy, as she sat up with a new speech in mind.
"I want the rest of this year, this time we all have together, to be nothing but fun." Lucy pointed, stringing her words a little closer together than anyone with a clearer head might have. The pretty girl rambled about how her sister was opening a gallery the first of the new year, and how she was inviting you and Gwil and neither of you could back out. Saying something about how if you all started the new year out together, then you'd be surreptitiously inclined to be the best of friends for the rest of all time.
"But I'm getting ahead of myself." Lucy giggled, grabbing onto your arm, shooting you a look that warned she was scheming. You grinned back, turning to face her all the way, setting your glass of water aside.
"Joe's birthday is soon and I'm planning something big. Something we can all do together, for him." Lucy declared. You felt every muscle in your face automatically reacting to pull your smile into a frown. But with every bit of sober strength you still had, you put on your best poker face and reached out for your drink you'd only just abandoned.
"What did you have in mind?" You asked, hoping you sounded more curious than cautious. Lucy burst into a laugh as you sipped your drink to keep from panicking out loud.
"I don't have a single clue yet." Lucy laughed with a sigh. "But it's going to be great."
///
As you sneaked back into your Airbnb you felt grateful for the night of fun with Lucy. It was the first time you'd been away from Gwil and Olive since this whole big thing started, and as the night went on you'd found yourself missing their usual constant presence. You'd get that in the morning, with a catch. Joe.
Gwilym had planned a big day out, buying tickets to the aquarium and talking about how excited he was to roam around for a day, no schedules or work to worry over. He'd invited Joe knowing the guy had no plans all weekend, no family nearby, nothing better to do.
When the morning came, and Gwil gushed over breakfast about what he was looking forward to the most, you let that be enough. You let Olive’s claps of the agreement be your fuel for gearing up to go out.
And when Joe knocked on your door wearing a withheld grin and a warm jumper, you stepped back to let him in, turning your eyes toward the carpet so he couldn't see you blush. Maybe he noticed though, because when you looked back up, Joe was still waiting to meet your gaze.
Gwilym was quick to greet his friend, ushering everyone out of the door Joe had only just entered. Today was going to be a good one, you told yourself so.
After parking the car, you watched Gwil wrestle to unfold a new stroller. Joe chuckled when his friend denied help, insisting he had to figure it out on his own. Eventually, he did, buckling Olive in triumphantly. The effort must have exhausted your fake husband because he made a b-line for a coffee shop around the corner while you and Joe took shots at poking fun at Gwil.
You stood guard next to Olive in her brand new ride while Gwilym raced to patiently wait in the long coffee shop line. Joe stood near you, debating on joining Gwil, but decided against ordering anything.
As you distracted yourself by checking your cell, you heard Gwilym's warm chuckle from across the room. The sound was familiar enough for you to gaze up curiously, finding the guy with his arms crossed, leaning closer to listen to some woman in line speak just to him.
Gwilym was kind to everyone, always keen to listen. Everyone loved Gwilym. And whether you were near or not, plenty of people had taken their shot at flirting with the handsome man. You were hardly phased in those cases and were usually quick to poke fun at his attempts to flirt back. But when the girl in front of Gwilym kept spinning in line to gaze up and bite her lip as he spoke, you rolled your eyes. When he reached out to nudge her to keep the line moving, a faint bout of resentment threatened to wash over you.
You quickly decided that it was because Gwilym had done such a marvelous job at testing your nerves this week, and the feelings you'd been trying to push away were looking for an excuse to creep back up. So you started to bring your phone closer to view, but then your eyes swept over Joe.
His gaze was unsettled, watching Gwilym shamelessly flirt back with the girl, even after she ordered her coffee and lingered too close while he ordered his.
"Uh..." Joe uttered, starting to look back at you with a troubled frown.
"It's okay." You quickly shut down whatever Joe might have wanted to say next. You hadn't expected him to accept this with a shrug, but you needed Joe to stop looking at you like he was. You realized that anything you might have said next would probably worsen things , so you just gave Joe a small shake of your head, silently asking him not to worry about it.
That's when Gwilym approached, seemingly clueless of the thin ice he'd just skated away from. You shot him a look on your way back outside and managed to shift into a comfortable chatter as you led the way toward the aquarium. So far the morning was just as awkward as you feared it might have been, and with that thought, you decided you could manage. You'd learned how to attach yourself to Gwil, and how to save your swooning for Joe when you were alone at the end of the day.
As you approached the aquarium, Gwilym's phone rang. He groaned when his agent's name flashed across the screen, excusing himself a few feet away to answer.
You settled onto a bench as Olive pointed toward your bag, babbling in a way you understood. You reached in and revealed a small stuffed elephant much to your daughter's delight. When you handed the thing to her, she held it right back up,
"Joe!" The kid caught your guest's attention as he sat next to you, taking the toy from Olive with overblown thanks.
"You sure you wanna spend your day entertaining her?" You asked Joe through a warning laugh. Now that she had his attention, she'd likely long to keep it that way.
"Gladly." Joe looked at you as he answered. Luckily, Olive called out his name again so you both had a reason to look away.
That's when you noticed Gwil approaching while his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.
"They want me and Ben to come in right bloody now." He huffed, gazing up to the entrance of the place he'd made big plans to spend the day exploring.
"For how long?" You wondered.
Gwilym didn't know, lulling his head back clearly at a loss. He had to go, but what about you? You couldn't just not take Olive in with the way you'd been promising her this adventure all week.
"I'll email you guys the tickets to get in... I'll try and meet back up soon. Unless you want a ride back with me, Joe..." Gwilym offered, knowing there was no reason the guy had to spend his afternoon with his best friend's fake wife.
"I'll stay..." Joe decided, but hesitantly. "If that's alright?" He looked at you, seeming to realize, or at least recognize for the first time, that this was strange.
You nodded to the man with fossils for eyes, and made a mental note to scold Gwilym later. After a rushed goodbye, Gwilym sulked off. You felt bad that he was suddenly called away, knowing how excited he had been for this day. But then there was Joe. He seemed happy. And you weren't about to take this sudden change of plans for granted, no matter how your guts twisted up on your walk inside, alone together.
///
Olive was purely enchanted by the sea life. Giant radiant fish glided above your heads in expansive tanks. It was like stepping into another dim, quiet world.
"Bird!" Olive pointed up to a slow-moving sting ray. You figured she'd like the aquarium based on her fascination with things with wings, but this wasn't exactly the same.
"No, fish." You corrected, pointing up.
"No, scary." Joe joked, pointing to a larger, more intimidating looking sea creature. Your eyes searched the plaque on the wall that told what types of fish swam through the tank you stood near.
"Oh my God, look." You laughed, stepping closer to the wall. "It's called a Guitarfish." You pointed to the display and looked back into the tank at the skinny, oddly shaped stingray that you now recognized as half-shark. Joe shared in your laughter and stepped closer to take a photo of the plaque.
"Thanks for inviting me to this death trap." Joe laughed, as you three eased into the shark exhibit. It was a bit jarring, surrounded by walls of water where ancient monsters floated just feet away from you.
"They're just dinosaurs, ya know?" You mused, setting Olive on her feet and watching her shuffle closer to the glass where a sand tiger shark floated right by her face. You noticed another plaque and spun toward Joe with a smile, pointing to the fish behind his back.
"That one's name is Bungle. See? Loveable and harmless."
"It says here you can swim with them," Joe smirked, stepping closer to read what you just had.
"Okay, well maybe that's taking it a little too far." You laughed.
"Why? They're harmless dinosaurs, right?" Joe chuckled. You watched Olive watching the sharks glide by as Joe spun off into a story about Jurassic Park. Families cruised through pointing and chatting as you stood against the wall, listening to the guy you'd been avoiding until now.
When Olive ran back toward you pair and reached her arms up to Joe, he scooped her up without missing a beat and kept on telling his story. You laughed and listened and let yourself become completely entranced by the daydream you were living.
This was it, you decided. As good as it gets. When today was over, you'd let yourself have it, and then you'd move on. No more yearning. No more hopeless gazes right in Joe's direction. This was it.
The turtles were a big hit, and you were personally taken with the octopus exhibit. But the room full of penguins obviously took the cake.
"These are birds!" You excitedly chirped, probably a little more excited than Olive about the scenario. She clapped her hands together, all the same, dashing toward the glass. You sat on the floor next to her and watched a group of penguins waddle toward where you sat. Olive waved and pointed and squealed accordingly. Even though you had to remind her to use her inside voice, you felt just as overjoyed that this experience was a win.
"We can leave if you'd like." You assured Joe when he appeared next to you after another family cleared the area.
"Absolutely not!" Joe demanded, sitting on the other side of Olive who was glued to the glass of the exhibit. "This is obviously our reward for making it out of the shark tank alive."
You sat there forever, watching Olive travel back and forth when the penguins would jump in the water. Then came the gift shop. Olive picked out a plush penguin, and Joe corralled you both to the storybook section where he put on a dramatic reading of a magazine about jellyfish.
You left the aquarium and stepped out to the golden hour. The afternoon was still new, but your eyes felt heavy after all the fun had been left inside the aquarium.
"I think I'd like to find that coffee shop again." You spoke up, rubbing your eyes as they adjusted to the new light.
Joe insisted on buying your drink since you'd treated him to today's grand adventure. You eventually obliged upon arrival, settling into a cozy booth by a window. Olive had curled up in the curve of the booth next to you, with your jacket bunched under her head, fast asleep.
You praised God that naptime had found its way into the afternoon schedule and took some time to send James and Andy photos of Olive pointing at giant sharks. That's when Joe reappeared with two plastic cups of coffee. You greeted him with a grateful thanks.
"These photos turned out so well. I was just sending them to my roommates." You explained, clicking your phone off altogether.
"You have roommates?" Joe wondered, sipping his own latte and leaning across the table with his head propped in his hand. Oh, shit. You and Joe had grown increasingly comfortable with each other during your aquatic escapade, but you surely weren't dumb enough to slip up so carelessly.
"Used to." You falsely corrected. "Lived together so long, sometimes I forget." You let out a breathy laugh, wrapping your fingers around your warm styrofoam mug and thanking Joe again for being so kind.
His hair was a little windblown, and his eyes seemed tired. The warm coffee shop was certainly a change of pace from walking the chilly London streets. But the conversation was just as easy as it had been always. Joe texted you the photo of the guitarfish plaque and you spoke about things that you each marveled over as children. When you started cracking up over some silly joke, Olive sat up and was ready to party all over again. You started to brush back her matted curls, but she clamored away from you and toward Joe, around the curve of the booth.
"You don't have to put up with her, ya know?" You reminded as Olive climbed into Joe's lap before you could stop her. But Joe welcomed the baby's embrace, sipping his coffee all the same.
"I really don't mind. We're like, best friends now. Right?" Joe looked down at Olive, who responded by wrapping her tiny arms around Joe's neck. Oh God, you should have never come to London.
But soon your coffee's were gone, and Olive was clearly ready for dinner. Without much discussion, you ended up in a small bistro with a friendly atmosphere. Olive demanded orange juice, and some came in a novelty sippy cup.
"That's way too fun. I'm so about to get one of those for myself." Joe decided, laughing over the boldly designed sippy cup. He really did order one for himself and kept pretending to steal Olive's and forgetting his own, making her laugh like crazy. You were just about to take a photo of the scene when your phone rang. It was Gwilym.
"Hello?"
"Hi," Gwilym greeted seeming sorry.
"Good day?" You wondered, unsure what else to say as a pang of strange guilt crept up inside of you.
"I'm just about to leave the city. Do you need a ride home? Should I pick up dinner?"
"No, no, wait where are you?"
Gwilym was literally a street away from where you were. So you demanded he come and enjoy the last half of your adventure. Joe was happy to hear your party was growing in size, and a kind waitress brought Olive a set of crayons and some paper to keep her from going crazy while stationed in a high chair.
That was about the time Gwilym showed up. He shouldered past a few patrons and laid eyes on you and Joe in an instant. Olive was holding out a crayon to Joe, babbling to him while he listened intently.
Gwil should have been jealous, or oddly territorial, right? He wondered if he should have even pretended to be. But Gwilym only felt a huge swell of happiness, watching you all laugh. He felt happy to see you happy for once. Because for a while now, your smile had mostly been for show.
When Gwilym approached your table, you couldn't even hold back your cheesy grin, while you rested your crayon and greeted him. Before he sat down, Gwilym gave you the strangest look. As if he'd just watched the end of a very satisfying movie. Like he'd just seen something unexpected come together.
Gwilym sat next to Joe, and the two made a show of reuniting. Then you both got to telling of the fun you had while Gwil was away, and even though a lingering sadness pulled at you, knowing Gwil was sad to have missed out, he seemed charmed by your stories. For the rest of the evening you all spent together, you kept crossing your fingers behind your back every time laughing at Joe's jokes seemed easy. You kept wishing this would somehow become as normal as it felt.
///
The weather was worse than dreary, the sky black with rain and fog clouding your view out of every window. Gwilym had been extra busy after the weekend break, so there wasn't much of a chance for you to visit him on set. As a result, Olive was going a bit stir crazy.
You did your best to keep the girl entertained with the children's channel permanently playing on the flat screen, attempting to build a fort in the living room. But it wasn't enough for Olive. She started tossing toys away with frustrated whines and wailing when she didn't like the breakfast you cooked, even though it was her favorite. And the crying got worse as you wrestled her for bath time and offered teething toys she just didn't want.
Going on day three of her never-ending tantrum, you were exhausted. And even though you barely slept, you were out cold when Gwilym made it home, and you hadn't heard him leave before you woke up. Your morning started when Olive wept from her cot, hardly soothed by your attempts to cuddle her frustrations away.
By the middle of the afternoon, you sat on the edge of the sofa, waiting for your poor daughter's next big breakdown. This time, it came with a warning. Olive stood on the opposite side of the coffee table, staring right at you as she reached for a cup full of juice.
You called out her name, warning her to be careful, giving her a chance. But the kid tossed the cup to the floor, the lid falling off, red seeping into the rented shag rug. She wasn't two yet. The days weren't supposed to be so terrible. You called out her name, standing to stop her from crawling away. The babe burst into upsetting cries, knowing she was in trouble. You placed her in the playpen across the room, taking her favorite toy bat as the only punishment you could think up in your frazzled, fatigued state. And while you rushed to clean up the stain to the tune of your daughter's sobs, you cried too.
Maybe Olive missed home. Maybe you did too.
"Hello-oh." Gwilym dropped his bags by the door and cautiously floated toward where you slumped against the coffee table. Olive was still wailing, and you were practically despondent and equally as tear-stained.
"Hi," You mewled as Gwilym held a hand out to. He shot you a sorry frown as he guided you to sit on the sofa.
Olive remained wailing, and you both knew something had to be done quickly or the baby would go permanently insane. Gwilym spun on his heels, noticing Olive's favorite toy bat on the coffee table. He picked it up, you thought, as an easy fix for her crying.
"Wait!" You plead. Gwilym looked to you in confusion as you hurried to explain yourself. "She's in time out. If you give that back, you'll be the good guy. I'll be the bad guy and I can't be the bad guy while I'm alone with her all day." You were panicking. You felt the walls closing in. You had to come back from this.
Gwilym listened as he slowly walked back toward you. Olive's cries were somehow dulled as she watched the two of you interact.
"She spilled juice all over the rug. I tried to clean it up but it's still kind of there. That's not even the half of it, though." You slumped forward, running your fingers through your hair.
"Then here, darling." Gwilym knelt before you, placing the plastic bat in your lap. He clasped one of his hands over your knee to get your attention. "You give it back to her, later."
Just the simple act of expressing your pent up frustration was a load off your shoulders.
"We'll run to the store for carpet cleaner. We'll even take the long way home so you can have a bit of quiet." Gwil assured.
"You don't have to take her, I know you've had a long day and-" You started.
"I'm gonna." Gwilym chuckled. He took your hand, placed it over the toy bat in your lap and gave a decided nod. "I'm sorry I've been away. And I'm sorry the week has been so hard. But I'm very glad you came to stay, for what it's worth."
You nodded, furrowing your brow. "Thank you Gwil."
With another small nod, he stood to collect your daughter, and you stood to go draw a bath. This might have been your only chance to relax for the rest of the foreseeable future. As you rounded the corner, before the door shut behind him you heard Gwilym talking to Olive,
"You've got to stop causing your mummy so much trouble. That's my job."
You wanted to laugh, but you knew you'd only cry. Because he made you want to shake his shoulders and sense into his head. But you really couldn't believe how much you relied on him. You considered this during a steam-filled bubble bath, and crawled into bed for a nap when you just couldn't think any longer.
///
You woke up to dull thuds of rain against the window, the smell of food in the air. Your daughter was babbling in the other room, and the sounds of pots and pans rattled you all the way awake.
You rubbed the sleep from your eyes to find Olive flipping through big picture books in the low lit living area. A little further away, Gwilym was shutting the oven door when he noticed you.
"Hello! I got the stain out of the carpet and picked up some extra bits for dinner." The guy smiled kindly, turning back toward the stove when steam started to billow. You took a beat to watch on in wonder before thanking Gwil profusely for going above and beyond saving the day- the week rather.
Everything was back to normal, with a little help from the father of your child. "Oh, and I've got a surprise for later!" Gwilym echoed as you eased further into the kitchen.
Right when you were about to ask what the hell Gwilym was on about, a Facetime call from James lit up your phone screen. You answered in a flash, greeting your dearest friend like you hadn't spoken in years.
You settled onto the floor next to Olive who was just as pleased to see your roommate on your phone screen. You only stood when she kept threatening to chew on your phone case, and floated toward the kitchen where Gwil was happily working away.
"And how's the happy couple?" James jeered like usual, as you propped your phone against the counter. But instead of laughing, or giving some exaggerated answer like you always would, your face fell. Gwil shifted from the stove, noticing your expression as he turned down one of the burners.
"Tell him." Gwilym softly suggested, stepping closer as if to encourage you. You'd never planned to tell anyone. You weren't sure what to say, but you wondered if getting this lie off your chest to someone who it hardly affected might help, somehow.
"Uh, guys..." James pipped up.
"Actually, allow me to begin." Gwilym stepped further into the frame as you took his place string dinner on the stovetop.
"Oh, of course, our third wheel! Was I crazy in expecting this video chat date to be a one on one?" James wildly drew. You chuckled from behind Gwil, watching him lean both arms against the counter.
"Where's our fourth wheel?" You jeered from across the room. "This car is running like shite." You laugh. You missed Andy, and the comforting chaos your two roommates provided.
"Listen" Gwilym brought the focus back to the matter at hand. "I wanted to start by saying that I messed up and I really wish I hadn't. And every time I suggest making things right, your darling Y/N stops me."
Gwilym was obviously immensely regretful, but you were both in too deep. You had been long before he perpetuated the lie. But he still should have cleared the air from ever becoming even more sticky.
He went on explaining the whole situation to James, who listened without piping up once. James was never speechless. You must have really fucked up.
"You guys. I'm going to ask you something and I'm gonna need the honest, raw truth." James wasn't being funny anymore. You drifted closer into the frame, watching your best friends pixelated form lean close.
"Do either of you have feelings for each other? At all?" James questioned.
He'd asked this before, in a much more lighthearted manner. You and Gwilym had always been sickeningly doting to one another, giving the circumstances. Like one morning, very soon after finding out you were pregnant, you pleaded for Gwilym to spend the night simply to keep you company. The morning after, you both burst into a fit of giggles over breakfast, waking James from his bedroom down the hall. "Are you two shaggin' again?" He groaned. "God, no." You laughed.
"They bang, or whatever." James once said when introducing Gwil and a very pregnant you to some of his coworkers at a party. "We don't, actually!" You corrected. But Gwilym's hand was already splayed across your shoulder. James coworkers fixated their stares on your pregnant stomach and looked back up to you as if to prove a point. And you spent the rest of the party explaining that even though you used to bang Gwil, didn't mean you still were or even wanted to. Because you didn't. But you wanted to want to.
"No!" You sighed in frustration, after considering all of that. James' digital eyebrows rose as if to give you a second chance.
"Look. She's telling the truth mate. I don't think I have romantic feelings for her either. But I do love her and I feel like shite for making her put up with this, especially because-" Gwilym halted, ran his hand through his hair, and sighed. You knew exactly where he was going with this.
"Because...?" James prodded.
"It's not my place to say." Gwilym turned to look right at you.
"Y/N. What's going on?" James called. Right on cue, Olive cried from the other room, it must have been time for a change.
Gwilym stopped you from turning away and insisted he go. And when he drifted into the other room, you let out a deep sigh as your friend spoke up again.
"Now that he's gone... is there anything you need to confess?"
"I don't know what's going on James." You admitted, bringing your phone closer as you moved to lean against the door frame of the patio.
"You sure about that?" James squinted.
"I was so pissed at Gwil. But then I thought we could make it work. And I've been spending all week trying to think up exactly how to fall in love with my baby's daddy. And I just fucking can't." You gestured pitifully.
"You're sure? Love isn't a crush babe. Do you think of Gwil when he's away?" James wondered gently. "Do you feel at home when you look at him?"
And then all at once, there was a traffic jam in your heart. Something inside you stopped and caused all your other feelings to halt. Your realization was so massive that there was nowhere else to look but the cold hard truth.
"Not... not Gwilym, no." You spoke slowly, in a hush. That was what you'd always wanted. To feel like someone was your missing link. You wanted to feel sick with love. You'd longed to be looked at the way you'd seen in movies.
Joe's face blinded your vision, and it made you sick alright. Sick with the realization that no matter how badly you wanted Joe, you seemed to need Gwilym.
"Oh." James hummed like he'd read your mind. And with how closely bonded you two had become over the years, you didn't doubt the possibility. "I see."
"James I can't talk about this tonight." You realized, noticing Gwilym guiding Olive to crawl toward the kitchen for dinner. You feared if you started unraveling your tangled feelings that whatever the messy web was holding back would break through. And you couldn't let that happen. You promised James you'd fill him in soon, and hurried to hang up.
But before you could lock your phone and finish making dinner, you noticed an unseen message in your notifications. With a held breath you opened it,
Joe: Forgot to send you this! See you soon?
Below his simple statement was a photo you never knew existed. It was of you crouched next to Olive at the London Aquarium's penguin exhibit. Your silhouettes were illuminated by radiant blue light and you and your daughter were looking at each other, instead of the birds crowding near. Your heart swooped in your chest at the thought of Joe snapping the candid.
You let out a sigh and sucked your feelings way deep down in one giant breath, leaving your phone on the counter as you turned to unveil dinner from the oven.
Gwil quietly asked if you were alright in a way that sounded like he already knew the answer to that question. You convinced him everything was fine, that everything had to be fine. Then there was a knock at the door.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
taglist: @sonic-volcano @imtheinvisiblequeen @redspecialty @itscale @stardust-killer-queen @joemazzelo @dancetohotspace @kiwi-hardy @joeneslee @borhapqueen92 @im-an-adult-ish @johndeaconshands @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @beepbeephardy @slutforbritdick @joemazzmatazz @almightygwil
#joe mazzello#joe mazello x reader#joe mazzello fanfic#joe mazzello imagine#gwilym lee#gwilym lee x reader#gwilym lee fanfic#gwilym lee imagine
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DESIRE
Part 34
Sunday was another lazy day where Joe and Paul slept on and off until noon. They both went down to the hotel gym to get a work out in and then ordered lunch to the room.
After food, Joe jumped into the shower to freshen up while Paul did his usual admin. For the first time in a while, he was feeling content. This weekend with Paul was not expected at all but it was perfect. He hummed to himself as he dried off.
“You’re in a good mood.” Paul commented, appearing in the door frame. Joe smiled at Paul’s reflection in the mirror, watching him come closer.
“I feel good after that workout.” Paul stood behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist. “I can think of more workouts that’ll make you feel good.” He smirked before nuzzling the side of Joe neck. “Bet you could,” Joe turned around and kissed him, dropping his towel to the tiled floor. His erection rubbed up against Paul’s leg. “You’re ridiculous.” Paul smiled looking down at the hard cock edging against his leg.
“I can’t help it.” He said with puppy dog eyes. “Well you’re going to have to wait baby. I have to go over some drafts for Raw and get them back this evening.” Paul smooched him on the lips and left the bathroom.
Joe went out to the balcony to have a catch up with his mother while Paul kept himself busy on his laptop. He always had so much going on and Joe never questioned it when he never had time for him. He knew what his position demanded of him. It was going on 6pm when Joe finished up his call, when he went back into the suite. Paul was still at his laptop, on his phone. He passed a glance. Joe could tell something was up. He looked annoyed.
“I need this sorted.” He said sternly. Joe proceeded to the bedroom in order to give him some space. “I don’t give a shit what Vince says, It’s not happening!”
He sounded angry now. Joe swallowed. He rarely heard that tone. “I’ll speak with him myself.” He said before ending the call and going out to the balcony, sliding the door closed behind him. Joe decided to wait it out in the bedroom. Paul came in after about 20 minutes. “You OK?” Joe asked with concern from the bed as Paul entered. “Just trying to make some changes for Raw.” He climbed onto the bed and lay next to the young man. “Sounds pretty serious.”
“Maybe I’m over reacting…” He started. “What is it?” Joe asked. Paul hesitated and looked Joe in the eyes. “It’s gonna be rough for you. I’m trying to get them to change it.” Joe sat up on the bed, Paul followed. “What have they got in mind?”
“Drew”s gonna jump you from behind with a steel chair when you’re doing a promo and he’s gonna put you through the announce table.” Paul felt bad telling him that. He could see the look of dread come over Joe face. “Raw before Summerslam.” He said, deflated. “That sucks.”
“I don’t want to jeapordise you getting hurt. It’s too risky. I’ve made my feelings clear to Vince and creative so just waiting to hear back.”
“If nothing changes, don’t worry about it. It is what it is. I’ve gone through worse before.” Joe said, trying not to sound too bothered. “Thanks for trying though, appreciate it.”
“They can be such jerks.” Paul commented, lying back down, taking hold of Joe so he was lying at his side. “Just gotta think of the bigger picture.”
“That’s right baby. Can’t wait to see you with the title again. You’ve worked your ass off for it. I just don’t want you getting hurt.”
“I’ll be OK.” Joe looked at him re-assuringly. “Things are different this time around. I feel so protective of you.” Paul said running his hands through Joe’s hair before Joe leaned in and kissed him. Paul rolled onto his back while Joe mounted him. He trailed kisses down his neck and abdomen. Gripping the waist band if his cut offs and boxers, Joe slid them down Paul’s legs and gave him a dirty smile as he took hold of his hard cock. “Aww baby,” He lowered his mouth over the head, his tongue sliding out onto the under shaft. Paul let out a moan above. Joe took the length in his mouth and started bobbing his head up and down. “Fuck….feels so good.” Paul said running his fingers into Joe’s scalp as he spread his legs out further. Joe came off his cock and pumped the shaft with his fist more before taking it in his mouth again.
He started sucking harder and slower this time. Paul’s pleasurable moans only spurred him on. Without warning, his cum spurted into Joe mouth. The older man shuddered from above as he came hard. Joe lapped up every drop, much to Paul’s satisfaction. Joe crawled up to him again and lay at his side, spreading his right arm across his chest and putting his right leg over Paul’s.
“You’re incredible.” Paul wrapped his arm around Joe shoulder and kissed him on the forehead.
The next day, Joe arrived at the Pepsi Centre in Denver around 4pm. Paul would be arriving in a little later as he had a couple of conference calls for NXT. Their weekend had been perfect and things were on the right track. Granted, Paul was still pissed about what was going down tonight but it was out of his hands. Vince wanted a good buildup for the Summers biggest event. Not only would Joe be getting attacked by Drew but Bray, Braun, Eric and Luke would also be coming to wreck havok on both himself and Drew. Of course, Joe didn’t find this out until he got to the venue. He didn’t know if Paul would be aware yet and he didn’t want him getting worked up again. He just knew this was going to suck.
Joe waited in gorilla position five minutes before he was due to go out. Drew was waiting around too but he was talking to a couple of crew members. Paul was sat next to Vince in front of the monitors. He looked troubled. Joe wished he could go over and just take him in his arms. He glanced over into Joe eyes with a look that told him to be careful. His music hit. Joe inhaled deeply, nodding at Paul and walked through the black curtain. As usual, the reception was mixed as Joe made his way to the ring. He started his promo telling everyone how sick he is of being overlooked and that WWE needed him as their champion. He then went into how he couldn”t wait to get his hands on the Scottish Psychopath on Sunday and also his “old friend” Bray Wyatt. In the middle of his trash talking, the atmosphere erupted and unbeknownst to Joe, Drew had entered through the crowd, grabbed a steel chair and hit him across the back. Joe fell to the ground, reaching towards his lower back. He whaled on him a few more times as the crowd erupted. Joe tried to slide away but Drew grabbed him and threw him out of the ring. Joe could hear Michael Cole shouting “Drew McIntyre is just ambushing Roman Reigns!” Drew quickly removed the cover of the announce table and threw it on the ground. He pulled Joe up by his hair, picked him up as the crowd roared in delight and slammed Joe through the table.
The chants for Drew echoed throughout the sold out arena as he shouted in Joe's face “That’s what you get! I’m gonna destroy you again on Sunday!” Joe started coming around. When he put his hand to his head, he knew that he was bleeding. He could feel light throbbing in his temple. He must have hit something as he was going through the table. Before he could even move, Braun appeared out of nowhere and hoisted him up over his shoulder and threw him into the ring. As planned, Bray and his guys gave Joe and Drew a beat down until security stormed the ring along with about four officials, telling them to leave. The crowd were going wild so it worked well. Drew was able to walk backstage, just about and as always, Joe would refuse any medical attention, just a couple of officials helping him up the ramp. He held a towel to the side of his face when he walked into gorilla.
Paul looked furious. Maybe Vince didn’t give him any advance warning of the Wyatt’s attack? Paul approached him to check how bad the cut was. “I’m fucking pissed.” He seethed, just enough for Joe to hear. “Go and get checked out. I’ll be here when you come out.”
“Joe, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how that happened.” Drew said coming out of nowhere as he was helped to the medic.
“Its OK man, accidents happen. I need to get this looked at.” Drew felt so bad.
Joe ended up having to get 8 stitches in his temple and was told to take it easy. He was lucky he didn’t have a concussion. Paul was nowhere to be seen when he came out of the medics so he went to the locker room.
Colby and Matthew were the only ones there.
“Man are you OK? That looked pretty bad.” Matthew remarked with a look of concern. “I’m getting too old for this shit.” Joe answered, unlocking his locker. He ached all over and just wanted to lie down. “You’re one tough bastard. You’ll be fine.” Matthew let out trying to make light of the situation. He then turned his attention to Colby. “Man I’m gonna head but I’ll see you in a while.” With that, he left. Joe could feel Colby’s eyes on him as he took his bag out of his locker. “You sure you’re OK?” He asked from behind. Joe looked around.
“Yeah, I’ll be alright. I just need some rest before Sunday. How’ve you been?”
“Good, strange not seeing you as much this last while.” Colby started. Joe forced a smile as he took off his vest. “A lots changed over the last month huh?”
“Things OK with Paul?” He asked cautiously. Joe set his vest aside and opened his bag. “Yeah I’m happy. We’re in a good place.” Colby’s heart sank at Joe words. “That’s good man. You know I had my doubts but your happiness is what’s most important.”
“Thanks man, means a lot coming from you.” Joe's phone rang. It was Paul. “Speak of the devil.”
“Hey, where are you?” He asked. “Just getting my things in the Locker room. I was gonna shower-”
“Babe, I’ve got a car waiting for you right now if you just wanna get to the hotel. I have a keycard at reception for you. I can’t get out of here until about ten so I’ll see you at the Hilton?”
“Sounds perfect. See you soon.” Joe turned to Colby. “Sorry man.”
“Nah its fine, looks like you’ve got somewhere you need to be.” He observed. “He makes such a fuss sometimes…in a good way. I think he forgets I’m a grown man.” Joe laughed.
“Well I’m gonna head on but I”ll probably see you Sunday.” Joe nodded. “Good to see you again man.”
It was 9:45pm when Joe collected the keycard from reception. He knew that Paul wouldn’t be far behind. Again, he had picked a lovely cosy looking suite with soft beige tones and dark wooden decor. It was higher up so the view was amazing. He left his bags by the wardrobe area and kicked off his Nikes. He stripped off and went into the bathroom. It was such a relief to step under the shower. His neck, shoulders and back ached. He would have to see his chiropractor when he got home to Tampa. With each movement, he felt something creak. He dreaded to think how he’d feel after Summerslam. He shut his eyes as he lathered up his hair, gently massaging it in. It felt silky soft when he rinsed it off. When he opened his eyes, he was startled to see Paul standing by the sink watching him wearing only a pair of boxers.
“I didn’t hear you come in.” Joe said, sweeping his wet hair back. “I just wanted to take a moment and enjoy the view.” He shamelessly eyed Joe cock as he slipped off his boxers and moved towards the shower. He stepped under the spray, taking hold of Joe wet body. “How do you feel baby?”
“So sore. It was worse than I thought. I don’t wanna talk about it right now though. I just wanna be here, with you.” This lead Paul to nod. He’d had a tough night so he wanted to make him feel good.
“Turn around baby.” Paul said lowly. Joe obliged before Paul leaned in and kissed him tenderly down the back of his neck, placing his hands on his waist. He could see the bruises forming on his back from earlier that night but he didn’t want to say anything. His right hand moved down towards his ass cheek, which he squeezed. Joe moaned, lowering his head. His fingers found their way into his hole.
“Aww fuck,” the young man let out as Paul fingered him gently. It wasn”t long until he was fucking him, Joe steadying himself against the tiled wall. “I want you so bad,” Paul growled thrusting into him. Their moans and groans echoed throughout the steamy bathroom until Paul came hard. He held onto Joe, pulling him into his body so he was balls deep as he came. “Christ!” Joe let as Paul buried his face onto his wet hair.
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Welcome to the Family - Chapter 6
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Word Count: 3,049 (Total Word Count: 15,010) Read on AO3
Story Summary: Lance had been excited about his family taking in a foster kid, eager to get to meet his brand new little brother or sister, who would surely adore and idolize their super cool Big Brother Lance. What he got instead was a sullen, quiet, temperamental teenage housemate with a criminal record and a disastrous haircut.
The days leading up to the beginning of the school year were both too long and not long enough. Too long because there wasn’t a whole lot for Keith to occupy his time with. That was, admittedly, at least a little his own fault, as he spent the vast majority of his time in his room rather than downstairs where things were actually happening.
But it was easier on him this way. The TV in the front room was usually taken, and he didn’t want to interfere with anyone else’s use. Even when it wasn’t, the room was right there adjacent to the stairs and the basement entrance and the front door, all which were constantly trafficked. No way would he be able to relax amidst all that. And there was a family computer in the basement, but it faced outward into the room at large, and Keith hated the feeling of people looking over his shoulder while he was online, no matter how innocuous his browsing may be. Besides, Rachel had brought her trumpet home from summer band on Friday to practice it over the weekend, and the basement was her prefered practice space, so that was.
Tania, after noticing just how much time Keith spent hibernating in his room, had ordered a small used television for it online - despite Keith’s insistence that it wasn’t necessary, and hadn’t she already blown enough money on him over the past few days anyway - but they still had to wait for the delivery.
So the meantime was whiled away by re-reading his books and cautiously trying out the art supplies Tania had bought him for school. He didn’t think much of his artistic abilities, but it was one of the only creative outlets suggested by past therapists and social workers that actually clicked with him. He wouldn’t normally have asked his foster family for supplies, but Altea High required every student to take at least one year of a fine arts elective, so registering for art class had actually been a reason to need them.
The days were not long enough, though, in that, in spite of the way time had dragged, Keith still hadn’t managed to properly make himself feel ready to return to school by the time Monday morning rolled around. He woke early in the morning to a knocking at his door and Manuel’s voice telling him it was time to get up, and went downstairs to an unusually elaborate first-day-of-school breakfast, which Lance and Rachel both ate rather robotically, still adjusting to the waking world after a summer of sleeping in.
He threw on his clothes for the day - some dark gray jeans and a short-sleeved flannel that had formerly been Marco’s and which, to Keith’s surprise, had actually fit him pretty much perfectly, and were in better shape than most of Keith’s own clothes anyhow - and managed to get to the bathroom to finish his morning routine before Lance got to it. He had already managed to learn just how elaborate Lance’s ablutions were, and true to form, he kept Keith and Rachel waiting impatiently downstairs for twenty minutes in order to get his hair and face ‘perfect’. Even though when he finally was satisfied and came to join them, Keith could swear Lance looked exactly the same as he always did.
Rachel led the way out the door, slipping into the driver’s seat of an old scratched-up LeSabre parked at the curb. “You can take shotgun if you want,” she said to Lance as he opened the door of the seat behind her.
“God, no thanks,” Lance said. “I’ve seen you drive. I’m sitting where I’m most likely to survive when you inevitably crash us headlong into the auditorium.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Oh, whatever. Keith will sit up front with me, right, Keith?”
“Uh, sure,” Keith said, opening the door and carefully sliding into the seat.
“Do what you want,” Lance said. “But don’t be surprised if you’re the first to go.”
“Shut up, Lance,” Rachel said as she turned the key in the ignition. She shifted the car into drive and started down the road.
“Tell Keith how many tries it took you to pass your driving test.”
“I passed it eventually, it doesn’t matter.”
“Five tries. And on the third try she ran over a - ”
Rachel cut him off by speeding up and then braking hard at the stop sign on the corner, sending Keith lurching forward and Lance’s face knocking into her headrest. “Oops,” she said flatly. “Sorry, Lance, guess I’m just a bad driver.”
“Vete a la mierda,” Lance muttered, rubbing his forehead with a scowl.
“I’m telling Mamá you’re teaching Keith bad words,” said Rachel.
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
Keith managed to tune them out not long into the drive. He pulled his feet onto the seat and his knees up to his chest, letting all his focus drift to the buildings and trees and street signs they passed as he stared out the car window, trying to familiarize himself with the new surroundings, look out for landmarks that would make the route easier to remember if he needed to walk to or from school any time soon. Occasionally certain foster families of the past would forget to take him to school or pick him up. Or maybe do so intentionally. He could never be certain.
Lance and Rachel managed to keep up their light bickering all the way up until they pulled into the student parking lot, where Rachel had to try twice to park between the lines of her selected parking space, to Lance’s amusement. Despite Lance’s elaborate morning routine, it seemed they had still managed to arrive at school earlier than most, since the majority of the parking spaces were still empty. That was good. Keith still needed to stop by the front office to pick up his finalized schedule, and the last thing he needed was for that to make him late on the first day of school.
He parted ways from the McClains at the entrance, where they set off to their lockers and Keith to the front office. It was fairly crowded when he entered, students and a few parents trying to get some last-minute arrangements made before classes began. Keith hovered near the doorway, not wanting to barge past anyone or draw undue attention to himself by going to the receptionist.
In the midst of debating how he was going to go about asking for his schedule, his thoughts were interrupted by his name being called. The door to the guidance counselor’s office, adjacent to the front office, had been flung open, and Mr. Smythe stood in the entryway, waving him over.
Keith let out a breath and hurried over. Mr. Smythe was a recognizable presence, if a rather overwhelming one. He was a difficult person to forget, between the shock of bright orange hair on his head to the elaborate matching mustache, from his shoulderpadded blazer to his distinct accent. He’d certainly left an impression when Keith and Tania had met with him a few days prior.
“Keith, my boy, good to see you again!” Mr. Smythe said, beckoning him toward the office. “Come in, come in, I was just about to get your schedule printed up for you.” Keith followed him into the little office silently. He wasn’t sure how long this would take, so he opted to keep standing rather than take a seat in one of the chairs along the wall by the door.
“Now,” Mr. Smythe said, plopping himself into his own chair and turning to his computer screen. “I fit you into the art elective you wanted and made room for you in one of the Spanish 1 classes that fit the rest of your schedule. We also managed to get a gym uniform in for you in your size in time for you to be able to participate in your Phys. Ed. class today, so you can let Señora McClain know she needn’t worry about that.”
“Okay,” Keith said.
The printer on Mr. Smythe’s desk whirred as the counselor swiveled his chair to face Keith directly. “Regarding your core classes,” he continued. “For most of them we’ve decided to go ahead and place you in the standard sophomore level courses. I understand that there may be a few concepts from freshman courses that may need to be reviewed for you, but I’ve given your teachers fair warning ahead of time, so they’re aware that you may need a little bit of one-on-one assistance. Don’t be afraid to ask for it. I’ve also gone ahead and gotten you signed up for peer tutoring during your study hall block, so that could be a means to help you catch up.”
“Oh.” Keith’s shoulders slumped and he lowered his gaze. The whole situation was embarrassing, him being as far behind in school as he was. He knew he wasn’t stupid - despite what certain foster family members or classmates had told him in the past - but between constantly switching schools, his discipline record, assignments and books gone missing, the absolute joke of ‘education’ that the juvenile center had stuck him with all through last school year, and a decade of intense stress as the icing on the cake, well… he was probably lucky that his grades weren’t even worse.
“The only class that we couldn’t put you in sophomore level for was your Mathematics requirement,” Mr. Smythe was continuing, and Keith shook himself back into the present. “Seeing as the syllabus is much more linear than your other core classes. We’ve placed you in Algebra 1. However, if you put some elbow grease into your studies, Ms. Ryner has said that she would be happy to work with you to map out an independent study curriculum to get you back on track. If you go that route, you can have Pre-Calculus finished by graduation, same as the majority of your classmates. Of course, only Algebra 2 is a required credit for graduation, but colleges will be looking for - ”
“The regular track is fine, Mr. Smythe,” Keith said, immediately wincing afterward when he realized he had just interrupted.
Mr. Smythe, fortunately, didn’t seem to take offense at the interruption, and instead simply gave him a brief nod before pulling the schedule out of the printer tray and handing it to him. “Well, the option is available all this semester in case you change your mind. We’ll be happy to make accommodations.”
“Thanks,” Keith grunted. He accepted the paper and scanned the schedule.
“And Keith?”
“Mm?”
“That doesn’t just apply to classes.” Keith looked back up from the schedule to find Mr. Smythe’s gaze fixed firmly on him, intense and sincere. “If you are having any difficulties adjusting here, any concerns, or if you just need someone to talk to. My job isn’t just schedule planning and test prep, you know.”
Keith narrowed his eyes. “Why… are you telling me that?”
Mr. Smythe shrugged. “Thought I’d make the offer. It’s never easy for a new student to transition, and I know you have a bit of a, ah, colorful history in school settings - ”
“Who told you that?” Keith snapped.
“Your transcripts,” Mr. Smythe replied simply.
“... Oh.”
“Of course, it’s entirely up to you if you want to meet with me or not,” Mr. Smythe continued. “Señora McClain did inquire about it, but doesn’t want to force anything. Just be aware, my door is always open.” He leaned back in his chair and swiveled his gaze to his computer. “Feel free to run along, now, Keith. Wouldn’t want to make you late for your first class.”
“Um, right,” Keith said, hesitating only a moment before backing out the door, pulling it closed behind him.
His next stop was his locker, and thankfully he remembered where that was from the school tour he’d been given last week, and it was close, only two halls down from the administrative wing. The hallway was crowded when he got there, and he clung to the straps of his backpack tightly as he wove his way through the mass of students and to his locker.
He hung his backpack onto the hook and grabbed some supplies for his morning classes. Biology was the first listed on the sheet that Mr. Smythe had given him, located in room 224, which was… he wasn’t sure where. It was a lot to remember after only a single tour.
Biting his lip, he looked around the crowd of students. Lockers were grouped by year, so this hallway should be full of sophomores, which hopefully meant that a familiar face was nearby. After a few moments of scanning, he spotted an orange headband poking up from the crowd, taller than most of the other students around, and he set off in that direction. He recognized that headband, he was pretty sure, and the odds of another student in the same school having that same particular taste in hair accessories seemed slim.
Sure enough, the boy with the headband was the same as the one who had been visiting the house the other day, and Lance was with him, chatting idly while leaning up against a nearby locker, the girl who’d been with them there as well, standing with her arms wrapped around a bright green trapper keeper.
The boy - Keith couldn’t quite recall his name; Hank, maybe? - noticed his approach, and greeted him with a smile and a wave, that got the others’ attention and had them turning to him as well. “Hey Keith!” he said brightly.
“Hey...” Keith said in return.
“Hunk,” the boy supplied. Oh, well, he had been close.
“Right.” He cleared his throat and held up his schedule to the others. “Do, um, do you guys know - could one of you show me - um, room 224?”
“Here, lemme see that,” Lance said, snatching the schedule out of Keith’s hand to examine. “Huh, same bio class as me, so you can just follow me there. Same lunch blocks too, looks like. And English, and computer science… and gym…” He raised a brow at Keith. “You stalking me, man? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered, but - ”
“I’m not stalking you,” Keith said, glaring as he grabbed his schedule back from him. “I didn’t pick the schedule.”
“Relax, I’m joking. Just making sure you’re aware how blessed you are to have me in so many of your classes.”
“I see we’re playing fast and loose with the definition of the word ‘blessed’ this morning,” the girl remarked, and for the life of him Keith couldn’t remember what her name was.
“Pidge here is just jealous of you,” Lance said to Keith. Pidge, then. Keith repeated it in his head a few times to commit it to memory.
“I am jealous of no one,” Pidge said. “I’ve got most of my classes with Hunk, so if anyone should be jealous, it’s you.”
“Aww, Pidge,” Hunk said with a smile. “That’s sweet of you to - wait, what do you want?”
“Your cookie at lunch.”
“No.”
“Then I take back my compliment.”
“All right, well,” Lance straightened up from the row of lockers and stretched. “Come on Keith, I’ll show you where Biology. Let’s give these two some privacy to get their flirt on.”
He made a gesture to follow as he stepped away, as Hunk let out an indignant squawk and Pidge stuck her tongue out at him. Keith hurried to fall into place next to him. “Wait, those two are dating?” he asked.
Lance smirked. “Heh, nah, they just get annoyed when I say they are. So, of course, I say it all the time. Why, you looking to get together with one of them? Because I gotta tell you, I don’t think you’re either of their type - for a number of reasons.”
Keith grimaced and shook his head. “No, I don’t date.”
“Huh,” said Lance. “Guess I’ll have to tell Pidge she was right.”
“What?”
“Here we are,” Lance said, dropping the subject abruptly and gesturing grandly into the doorway of a classroom. “Welcome to the Joy of Biology.”
He moved toward the back to plop into an empty desk, and Keith followed along behind him, staring straight ahead and watching the other students in the corners of his vision. Cautiously he edged toward the desk beside Lance’s. “So, do we just sit anywhere, or - ?”
He paused when he realized that Lance was already striking up a conversation with the occupant of his other desk neighbor, a girl with wire-frame glasses and a thick black ponytail. Deciding not to disturb them, Keith slid silently into the open desk, setting his notebook and folder on the desk’s surface and opting to simply remain quiet until class began.
The teacher, Mrs. Montgomery, arrived right before the bell rang and the students who were still standing as they chatted amongst themselves, presumably catching up after the summer break, hastened into the empty desks that remained. She thankfully didn’t try any sort of first day of school look-what-a-cool-teacher-I-am opening stunt, and instead opened the class fairly dully, dropping a stack of syllabi onto one of the desks in the front row for the students to pass around and returning to the front podium to read out the roll call.
It wasn’t exactly a big social occasion or anything worse being nervous over, but he still rehearsed saying ‘here’ in his head a dozen times over so that he was prepared when she called his name. “Kogane, Keith.”
“Here,” he replied.
He may have messed it up somehow anyway, though, because a kid sitting two desks away jumped in his seat and whipped his head around at the sound of Keith’s voice to look him up and down. He had floppy brown bangs and a sharply angled face, and the moment his gaze met Keith’s, his eyes widened and he quickly turned away again.
Keith narrowed his eyes at the back of the kid’s head. Something about his face struck him as vaguely familiar, just a twinge of recognition in his gut. He wracked his mind, but he couldn’t place it, and he reluctantly let the matter drop from his thoughts when the teacher finished with roll call and started passing out the textbooks.
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OK BUUUUUUUT I don’t have enough high school Destiel in my life lately, so here...HAVE SOME HIGH SCHOOL DESTIEL!
So Dean transfers to Central High School at the start of his junior year, brand new and handsome with the sharp jawline and bright green eyes, and oh-so-mysterious with those brooding stares and leather jacket.
Cas, on the other hand, has been in the county’s school system since pre-school—same classes with the same kids for so many years. There’s nothing mysterious in the least about his wide gummy smiles and bulky sweater vests, always paired with askew glasses and perpetual bed head. Which, on some people would be sloppy, but on him, it’s all kind of...adorable.
Right off the bat, Dean’s earning quite a bit of attention from guys and girls alike, all staring at him with desire or glaring with jealousy. There are, of course, a few people who immediately try to ingratiate themselves to him, but he‘s met these kinds before—they always try to wiggle their way in, bathe in that new-kid spotlight with their too-bright smiles and too-loud voices.
And yet, between all the first-day, back-to-school outfits and makeup and hairstyles, all the flirtatious smiles and overt greetings...there’s one person who stands out to oh-so-cool, mysterious Dean Winchester: the disheveled kid with the gummy smile who grins at him from three lockers away and quickly tosses out, “I’m Cas. Lemme know if you need anything!” before rushing off to his next class.
A friendly interaction that’s not too overbearing is exactly what Dean needs, and he finds himself glancing over at that locker throughout the day, hoping for another moment. Turns out that, even though he never quite catches Cas at his locker, he does see him when he walks into the last class of the day (physics).
Cas already has several other students around him, laughing and joking as they discuss their summers, but as soon as Cas sees Dean, he pats the desk behind him in invitation. Dean smiles gratefully as he settles his long frame into the small desk, surprised yet grateful for the unexpected show of friendship.
They fall into conversation easily, almost as if they’ve been friends for years. But as Dean watches Cas interact with the other students who walk into the room, he realizes that this is just who Cas is, how he actswith pretty much everyone. He’s awkward and dorky, sure, but endearingly so.
Dean finds himself admitting that he’s kind of into music and maybe it’d be fun to be involved in a band of some kind. Cas smiles widely and tells him about Chuck and his band that meet in Practice Room C almost every day after school.
“They’re no Zep,” he admits with a little chuckle, “but they’re the only band we have here at Central.”
Dean blushes and says that he’ll check them out, earning another blinding smile from Cas.
After the final bell of the day, Cas walks with Dean back to their locker block, still as easy and engaging as ever. Dean can’t help but marvel at how many people pause to bid Cas goodbye, everyone from freshmen to seniors, top-rung athletes to low-rung nerds. And Cas is just as friendly and open with each and every one of them.
Once they’ve gathered their books, Cas points Dean in the direction of the practice rooms before heading off to his own Monday-afternoon club (something about recycling, from what Dean catches). Dean does find the practice rooms and the aforementioned Chuck, along with his fellow band members Gabriel and Cain and Crowley. He hears them before he sees them, and he’s surprised at how good they are.
He doesn’t know what to expect when he knocks on the door—in fact he’s pretty surprised that he actually works up the nerve to do so—but Chuck’s already heard from Cas, and immediately invites Dean to sing along with them for the afternoon. By the end of the rehearsal, they’re blending like they’ve been doing this for years, and Dean’s got himself a vocal spot with Aborted Apocalypse.
When Dean spots Cas in the hallway the next morning, disheveled and adorable in yet another bulky sweater, he tries to thank him, but Cas just waves him off with a simple “That’s what friends do.”
And, from what Dean observes over the next weeks, Cas is just as generous with...well, pretty much everyone.
First it’s the giant football player Gordon who runs up and scoops Cas into a giant bear hug bc he finally earned a B in his history class, all thanks to Cas tutoring him in his one free hour.
Then it’s the sketchy guy Sid who usually hangs out behind the gym celebrating April 20 every fucking day, shuffling up to Cas to mutter that he’s “got the stuff in his car.” At first Dean’s taken aback, bc he can’t help but wonder if Cas, well...but then it turns out that “the stuff” is the Tupperware containers that Cas used to pack a bunch of meals when he learned that Sid’s mom was in the hospital for surgery.
Then it‘s Bela sauntering up to inform Cas that their usual girls night at the movies will need to be moved to Friday instead of Saturday bc she’s been asked out on a date.
Then it’s Becky, a freshman who stumbles up sobbing bc her junior boyfriend broke up with her to ask Bela out on a date.
Then it’s some random sophomore asking Cas for a hug and a piece of chocolate bc they failed their world history quiz. Then the frickin school counselor stops by to ask Cas to sit in on an appointment with one of his friends (a term that literally applies to the entire school, as far as Cas is concerned).
And Cas—sweet, adorkable Cas who’s involved in so many extra clubs and volunteer groups on top of all this—just takes it all in stride. Dean can’t even begin to guess when the guy studies or does his homework, but he passes in all the homework that’s due and he aces all his quizzes (at least the ones that Dean grades).
When Dean finally asks Cas how he does it, how he manages to look out for so many people while still taking care of himself, Cas just shrugs and says something about “mom friend” before offering Dean one of the cookies he’d baked over the weekend.
It’s at this exact moment that Dean realizes that he’s falling for Cas. Pretty fucking hard. It doesn’t help that they’re spending more and more time together: studying for physics, hanging out at each other’s houses, binge watching Dr. Sexy, volunteering for events with the animal shelter (Cas’s idea). Cas will even sit in on the band’s rehearsals some afternoons and hum along as Dean flashes him funny faces and flirtatious winks.
And yeah, Dean tries dropping hints here and there, flirting and gentle teasing—everything that’s worked for him in the past. But, Cas seems oblivious? Honestly, truly oblivious. Whenever Dean flirts and tries to compliment his eyes or hair, Cas deflects and makes a joke instead. The couple of times that Dean asks Cas out, it’s misinterpreted as just . . . hanging out. It’s incredibly frustrating, to say the least.
But there are so many hints that maybe Cas does like Dean back? Like the way he always smiles so openly at Dean, with his entire face lighting up every time they’re in the same room. The way he goes out of his way to talk to him and spend time with him, no matte how many other people are vying for his attention. How he attends the band’s gigs once they start playing local venues...He even befriends Sam (which is a huge deal for Dean) bc they’re both in GSA. Which, that certainly sparked Dean’s interest when he heard, but Sam had to admit that he didn’t actually know if Cas was into guys, or just an ally.
It isn’t until Bela sweeps into an Aborted Apocalypse rehearsal on a Tuesday afternoon in November and shoves her perfectly manicured nail into Dean’s chest to ask, “Why the hell haven’t you made a move on Cas?” Which surprises Dean, bc he knew that Bela and Cas were close (an unlikely pairing, given...well, them. Apparently it went back to freshman year with Cas helping Bela through some family stuff) but he didn’t know that she’d take such an active role in trying to get them together.
He offers his entire list of excuses, from “Cas is the same with me as he is with everyone else” to “I don’t even know if he’s into guys.” Bela just rolls her eyes at every single one.
It’s only when she says, “You both can make up as many excuses as you want, but everyone can see how you’re into each other!” that Dean begins to consider the possibility that Cas might actually want him back.
But he still has to be sure. “Everyone can see?” he asks around the ball in his throat. Bela nods slowly, like she’s dealing with an idiot, and as Dean looks around, he can see the rest of the guys nodding along too, all with shit-eating grins. Well, fuck.
It’s then that he has to admit that none of his usual tricks have worked. And Cas is just so fucking friendly with everybody. Dean can’t believe he, of all people, is special to Cas.
Bela just rolls her eyes and drags Dean from the room to another empty practice room. She levels Dean with a stern glare as she threatens to “disembowel you slowly with my pinky nail if you so much as breathe a word of this to anyone, ever.” And then she tells him about Brady.
Apparently, Cas is gay, but his last boyfriend Brady (some dickwad who attends another school across town) spent the entire relationship actively convincing Cas that they shouldn’t ever break up because no one else would ever want him. And then when they did break-up, Brady blasted Cas on all the social sites, and at one point, even vandalized Cas’s car, spray-painting derogatory, hateful slurs across every surface. So Cas is understandably hesitant about starting a new relationship because of how Brady treated him.
But, the biggest reason he won’t let himself show interest in Dean is he still believes what Brady said. Regardless of how many people love and accept him at school and at home, there’s still a tiny part that thinks that he isn’t good enough. When Dean scoffs in anger and disbelief, Bela arches a brow and spells it out: unless Dean makes it super obvious that he’s into Cas like that...well, Cas will never make that leap on his own.
As Dean is just about to head back next door, Bela calls out, “He loves the Beatles, you know.”
Dean smirks back at her, “Give me some credit, Bela.”
That weekend, when Cas arrives at the little coffee shop the guys are playing (with Bela in tow), Dean makes sure to stop at their table before the show and compliment Cas on his new button-down. When Cas smiles up at him, blushing so prettily as he murmurs his thanks, Dean can’t help but brush his fingers over the back of Cas’s hand, sharing a long, soft smile before his giddiness carries him back up to the stage.
They start with their usual set—a couple songs that the guys had written before Dean joined, a song they’d all written together, a couple popular covers—all songs that Cas has heard before. But then, the last song before the break, Dean smiles right down at Cas as he says, “This next song is for my amazing best friend, who’s loved and appreciated by so many people...including me,” he glances down shyly as he admits, “Cas, there’s no one else I could sing this to.” He looks right back up into Cas’s shocked blue gaze, “No one else who I’d want to hold my hand.”
He nods to the guys behind him, and the bass line starts to thrum as Dean sings the first, low lines:
“Yeah, I’ll tell you something. I think you’ll understand, when I say that something: I wanna hold your hand. I wanna hold your hand. I wanna hold your hand.”
The tempo picks up as the others join in. “Oh please, say to me...you’ll let me be your man. And please, say to me, you’ll let me hold your hand. Now let me hold your hand. I wanna hold your hand.”
Cas’s cheeks burn a bright red, but he can’t seem to tear his gaze away from Dean—from his sincere eyes and kind smile—and Dean can’t bring himself to look away either. Everyone else, everything else, fades away. It’s just him and Cas as he sings the bridge.
“And when I touch you, I feel happy inside. It’s such a feeling that my love... I can’t hide...I can’t hide...I can’t hide.”
As Dean sings through the final chorus, he can see it in Cas’s face—the realization and certainty that Dean is singing this just for him.
When the song ends, Dean still can’t tear his eyes away from Cas. Chuck announces a short break, but it’s all background noise to Dean as he hops down from the stage and returns to his best friend. Their shy smiles match as Dean reaches down to intertwine their fingers together. Cas slowly stands and pulls Dean into a tight hug with his free hand, unwilling to release the hands held between them.
“I really do, you know,” Dean murmurs into Cas’s ear.
Cas pulls back just enough to let Dean really see his eyes. “I know. I’ve hoped, for so long, but I just...I couldn’t tell.”
Dean scoffs. “You couldn’t tell? You, who spends so much time looking out for other people—“
Cas rolls his eyes. “Yes, the mom friend.”
“Why do you keep calling it that?” Dean wonders, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Because that’s what I am,” Cas insists. “And no one wants to date the mom.”
Dean arches a brow. “Ever heard of Stacy’s Mom? Or MILFs? Or Mrs. Robinson? Or—“
Cas cuts him off with, “I get it, I get it.” He chuckles, brushing his nose against Dean’s. “I still don’t understand it, but I get it.”
Dean’s eyes drop to Cas’s mouth. “And you get me.”
“I do?” Cas can’t help but tease, but Dean chooses to respond with something that will erase all doubts. His lips meet Cas’s, somehow gentle and fervent and kind and sincere, each giving and taking at the same time.
When they finally part, to the sound of people clapping and cheering, Dean glances down at Bela and nods once. “Thank you.”
Cas looks down at her, his eyebrows arched in surprise. “This was you?” Bela just shrugs as she looks back down at her phone with a bored expression, “I was just so sick and tired of the eye-fucking.”
Years down the road, when Dean and Aborted Apocalypse have hit it big, Cas will use his sparse free time (you know, between his full-time job as a social worker and his classes to earn his second masters degree) to go see Dean and the others perform whenever they’re nearby. And every time Cas is at one of their shows, they play another Beatles song. But they never actually circle back around to “I Want to Hold your Hand” until the night Dean pulls Cas onstage to drop to one knee and ask him if he’ll hold his hand for the rest of their lives.
So I’ve kind of had this idea floating around in the back of my head for a while now (you know, high school nerds falling in love over music). I mean, I’d heard through the grape vine that Jensen could sing, but it wasn’t until I saw this video that I realized I had to write something with musician Dean. The song “I Want to Hold Your Hand” was originally sung by the Beatles, but the version I picture Dean singing here is closer to this slow version from the Across the Universe soundtrack. Anyways, hope you enjoyed! As always, please like and share, as that is the lifeblood for us authors on here. Ok, byeeee!
#yeah i wrote something#destiel#high school au#teenager au#musician!dean#mom friend!cas#new student!dean#beatles music
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113 - Niecelet
Gooooooood eevening, fine citizens. I’m your late night host this week, here to keep you company after sundownn.
Welcome to Night Vale!
As you regular listeners already know, I took over the night shifts this week, because I’ve been spending my days with a very special house guest. Well, more like one and a half house guests. My favorite cousin Sabina is visiting, and she’s 7 months pregnant with what will be my second ever niece. Well, my first ever niece once removed. First ever niece once removed? That takes too long, let’s do – “niecelet”.
My sister’s daughter Janice is a teenager. It’s been so long since I’ve had a new baby in my family so, if you hear a certain knowing, avuncular quality in my voice, it’s because you are listening to an expecting uncle. I’m already getting some of those leather patches sewed onto the elbows of my windbreaker.
All week, Sabina and I have been reading baby books, and I am a veritable expert at this point. A baby at 7 months is as big as an eggplant. She can already get the hiccups and déjà-baby-vu, and has a fully developed sense of comedic timing. I’m holding an eggplant with me here in this studio to practice supporting her neck. Also to make sure I have something to eat when I get home. Sabina’s cleaned out the fridge pretty thoroughly.
Back at my place, Sabina’s been keeping the radio on 24/7, so the niecelet will know the owner of this dulcet baritone already loves her very much. Hello, almost-niece!
Doing all this reading together, it seems crazy to learn just how vulnerable we are, when we first enter the world. Did you know that a newborn doesn’t even have kneecaps yet? That it has a hole in the top of its skull, which must be taped shut so the newborn does not escape through it during the night? It’s amazing any of us survive to the shaming ceremonies at all!
Speaking of rites of passage, the annual Night Vale Science Fair is scheduled for this Monday night. Every fourth grader is expected to report to the Rec Center for a fun-filled evening of free programs and live demonstrations. Organizers say the kiddos will have a chance to make a 1:1 scale volcano, that spews real ash and molten igneous rock. They’ll learn how a pile of pennies can be transformed into a battery, simply by taking those pennies to Walgreens and exchanging them for a pack of Duracell double A’s. They’ll learn about about centripetal force by pouring a bucket full of water, and then filling out a worksheet on centripetal force. They’ll plant a bean sprout in a Styrofoam cup that won’t disintegrate until their grandchildren have set off on exploratory missions to find another planet that can support bean sprouts.
Hmm, what else might be on the Community Calendar this week, you ask? Well, let me work at my own pace over here, OK pal? Like all jobs worth doing, this one takes focus and patience. You can’t just rush through it. As my optometrist says, “measure twice, cut once, then do the left eye.” So I guess that’s really measure four times total and cut two times, but I had an astigmatism so I ended up just sticking with contacts anyway.
Sooo.. [papers rustling] let’s see here. [clears throat] M-h-h-h-hmm, this week’s events. On Tuesday night, head over to the Band Shell to hear a set from Ouroboros, the rock band that only plays covers of their own songs. Wednesday, Ablution in Fresca to celebrate the start of the Andorran New Year. Thursday is Thirsty Thursday. Consume no liquids. You’re gonna get real thirsty! Friday has been indefinitely delayed by weather at O’Hare, and is now pleading with a United representative for a hotel voucher to avoid sleeping in a plastic chair in Concourse C.
Early morning on Saturday, we are in for a rare astronomical treat. The Earth will fully eclipse the Sun, blotting out its light completely, so that only a ring of wispy blue remains visible against the blackness. Now this eclipse will not be observable on Earth, of course, and to our knowledge there is no planet on which this phenomenon could be observed. There’s just nothing on that particular vector in space, but at 4:13 AM on Saturday morning, the total eclipse will occur, and that blue corona will shine softly in the dark, like a delicate smoke ring. And that dim blue halo will represent the entirety of us. Our dramas, dreams, and disappointments. The first ride without the training wheels. Our 8th grade dances. Our double Windsors and our veils, our sleepless nights in waiting rooms. Our rush hour commuters, our dozing through recitals til the one we love goes on. Our crying in the car as the one we love leaves home. Just that thin filament of blue, on which we wage our peace.
The on Sunday, tacos and gun safety with Three-eyed Bill at First Methodist.
Stay tuned, savvy listeners, for in a moment I’ll be sharing Night Vale’s third quarter economic development report. To my knowledge, we’ve never had an economic development report before for any quarter, but the press release looked official, and we all know that new municipal arms of government form all the time. Arms that then pull back to be reabsorbed by the government shoulder from which they sprouted.
But before crunching those numbers, a quick message from today’s sponsor. Equinox Gym. At Equinox, we focus on the whole body. Particularly, the soft and vulnerable parts of that body. Stop by our windowless complex today to meet with a dietician about this month’s promotion, the Zima cleanse. Or for even faster results, nothing torches calories like our calorie torch. Also, new members this week to Equinox receive 60 days of free access to our popular Judgment Spa. This has been a word from our sponsor.
[booming voice] Now to business news. Whoa! Did that sound unusually powerful to you? Ooh, I sorta took myself by surprise there, like I grew a suit or something! [chuckles] [clears throat] The Night Vale Economic Development Board, or NV-ec-dev-B for short and cumbersome, sent a press release at the closing bell of the Night Vale stock exchange. The bulletin said that futures are down, way down. Although the recent past is trading briskly. In response to declining levels of interests, NV-ec-dev-B plans to incentivize consumer spending. At the start of tomorrow’s business day, they’ll launch an abject prompt campaign of xenophobia, branded as nationalism, branded as civic bride, branded as a 2008 F150 Ford truck with satellite radio, air conditioned seats, and a heavy-duty hitch to haul away whatever it is you’re trying to hide.
So make plans this weekend to head out towards the used car lot with your hands in the air and your checkbook in your mouth, to meet with a sales person about financing options. You might be surprised by how few years of indentured servitude can you get you behind the wheel of a Ford truck.
You know what cars make me think of? Well, Carlos. I guess, but everything makes me think of Carlos. And his name is an anagram of “Lo cars”. He’s out of town at Erlenmeyer Flask Con this week, and I miss something fierce! But what I was going to say is that the thought of buying a car reminds me of my niecelet! It’s extraordinary to think that she’ll be a teenager some day, getting her driver’s permit, then her license, then her crossbow - going through all of these phases we all pass through. It’s like there’s a future attached to her already. Inside Sabina, there’s a baby, and seated inside the baby there’s the toddler. And within her are the blueprints for the girl. And soon, she’ll be out here learning to play the sitar and considering vegetarianism, then voting and buying lottery tickets. Well, those are the same thing really. And I’ll get to bear witness to this blooming life. Some day, she might even decide to have a niece of her own.
[tearily] Oh, OK. Um, something is in young Cecil’s eye over here. Ooh! Hang tight, team, I’m just gonna run out and grab a bunch of tissues from the supply closet to remove this bothersome… [key turns in lock, falls down] OK, listeners, I must admit I’m in a state of concerned agitation here. When I tried to open the door of the studio, the handle – came off in my hand and and and and when I went to reinsert it, I found that the hole was (tamped) full of soft hot tar, which cannot be up to code. So now I find myself in a small, soundproof, airtight room with a doorless handle in my left hand and a handle-less door before me. I’m uh… Huh… I’m- I’m I’m uncertain of just how to proceed, uh, I can’t imagine there’s more than a few hours’ worth of oxygen in here, even if the studio’s potted fern works double duty on converting the carbon dioxide.
Oh man and of course, I left my phone in my jeans in the other room, you know, after I changed into my professional radio hosting unitard. I, OK, I need some time to assess the situation.
I’ll leave you to the weather.
[Weather: "If We Live" by Disparition]
OK. OK, OK, alright calm down, calm down Cecil, calm down, and you can beat this. be like the patient viper who does not strike until his prey is upon him. [sharp exhale] Be like the praying mantis whose head is a guitar pick. Keep your heart rate low and your focus steady, and good God, sit down, man. Save your strength. Breathe deep enough to get the air inside your brain and think. What would an uncle do?
Hmmm. Hummmmmmmm. [getting faster and higher] Hmmmmmmmmmmm, hmmmmmmmmmmm-hmmmmmmmmmmmm… Oh! OK, I’ve got it. Easy, I just need one of you to come and open the door. [chuckles] OK, here I am behaving like I’m alone, but of course I’m not alone, ha ha ha ha ha! Oh, I’ve got all of Night Vale listening. Ooh, that is a relief! Come to think of it, I imagine hundreds of you may be on your way already, and I can’t have the whole town rushing over all at once. That would cause traffic jams, hysteria, straightline winds gusting up to 60 knots. [laughs] If you’re on your way, just shoot quick flare into the sky, so that everybody knows you’re the one on the way. M-more importantly so that I know you’re on the way.
You guys, it’s like 8 PM, you’re not all in your PJ’s yet. Just need one person to make the trip. It’s like an 8-minute drive from your apartment, come on! Is… Is no one listening? I mean, the memo from management at the last all-staff meeting did mention low late night ratings but – this is not low, this is talking into a tin can on string whose other end is tied to a fire hydrant at the bottom of the sea, this is utter futility, this is falling in the woods and no one’s there to hear you. This is not seeing the Cecil for the trees, this is – Kafka meets Becket and tells him to talk to the hand. This is – stop, full stop. Cecil. [deep breath] This indignation does me no good at all. Just burns through my oxygen supply, which is running low already. This rate, I’ll never survive until the morning commuters tune in. Just think, Cecil. Think like an uncle.
Ooh. That’s it! There is at least one person listening. Babies never sleep thru the night, right? So you, niecelet, you should be able to hear me. Tho I imagine the sound of my voice may be muffled by the blankets on the guest bed and Sabina’s abdominal muscles. Alright, niecelet, I need you. We’ve got to find a way to wake up Sabina. I need you to kick, brace your little elbows on the soft wall behind you and really kick! Aim for a spot under the ribs, that roof of bone above you. And again. [pants rhythmically] Kick! Good, again! [pants rhythmically] Kick! Good, again! Now give it everything you’ve got this time! Sabina, wake up! This is an emergency! Wake u-
Oh. The station phone is ringing. God I forgot we even had this. uh caller, you’re on the air.
Sabina: Hey, Cecil. The baby was keeping me up and I turned on the station and-
Cecil: Sabina! Oh, thank God you’re awake! No, no it’s not a shtick, listen. I am trapped in the studio and I just need someone to open the door from the outs-
Sabina: Oh OK, I’ll be right there. But I’m starving, I may stop by Subway for a mashed potato and Nutella sandwich.
Cecil: No, please come now! We’ve got snacks in the breakroom pantry.. I think. I’ll set you up with some (gorb and gevilta) fish.
Sabina: Alright. Hey, did you know that there’s a faceless old woman living in your home? She keeps trying to put lotion on my belly, while I’m sleeping.
Cecil: Yeah, she does that. Listen, my spare office keys are by the lucky cat. See you soon, and thank you Sabina!
Sabina: Hey, enough with the lotion, lady!
Ooooohh. And thank you, niecelet! At negative two months old, you’ve already saved a life! And somehow I get the feeling mine might be just the first of many. If you need bailing out of a tight spot some day, you know who to call. I’m the baritone you can count on any time, kid, day or night shift.
Ahhh, man! I can’t wait for that door to open so I can get a lungful of fresh air. Oh, it’s funny how small a room can feel when you’re not allowed to leave. Oh, sorry I [chuckles] forgot who I was talking to for a second. Well, as soon as you’re out here breathing air yourself, I’m getting you a pair of cleats and a pair of baby shinguards and a baby cape, too. I can’t wait to meet you, little hero of a niecelet! But first, I’m making your mother some midnight eggplant parmesan.
Stay tuned next for the sounds of a door opening, a rush of oxygen-rich air, and a wheezing celebration of an overworked respiratory system. Aany second now. Aaaany second. Aaaaaanyyyy secondd.
[long silence]
Today’s proverb: Follow your heart. You need it. Where did it ever learn to walk?
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This One’s For The Girls // Quitt
Who: Brittany Pierce and Quinn Fabray
What: Coffee before Cheerleading Sectionals
When: Sunday January 8th, early morning.
Notes: Cute friend fluff and boy talk
Quinn It was Sectionals day and Quinn was a nervous wreck as she pulled on her cheerleading skirt and tightened her ponytail. The one thing got to keep when she lost her life at McKinley was her car. She loaded her duffle bag into the car, put on her favorite cheerleading mix CD Brittany made her almost three years ago now, and made her way to Brittany's house. When she pulled into the driveway, Quinn left the car on and bounced up to the front door. She knocked before entering and chanting, "Brittany! Brittany S Pierce! Your chariot awaits!" They were close enough that Quinn could just enter her house whenever the girl wanted to, but Quinn was surprised Brittany's parents weren't home yet from their Christmas trip.
Brittany wasn't nervous mostly because this was the least of her worries. During the day she was fine but at night, she was mostly a wreck. Her date with Finn Friday eased her worries a bit since it had gone really well. The reason she didn't want to mention that it was with him was because practically everyone knew how much he liked Rachel and she couldn't help but be a little disappointed when she realized she wanted another date but he'd have feelings for someone else at the same time. Having a weekend busy with hangouts and competitions helped out for distractions. She double checked her bag, lifting her cat off of it every time he crawled on top. She heard Quinn at the door, giggling at her words and carried her bag with her, all set in her uniform as well. "Hello, gorgeous!" She greeted when opening it up and locking it behind her. "Thank you very much," She hugged her before going to the passenger's side.
Quinn Brittany had a way of making each and every one of her friends feel incredible every time she was around them and Quinn was so thankful for that. Quinn returned the hug, squeezing a little extra before letting go and the two blondes bounced to her car. "I'll always be your ride, Britt." Quinn noted as they backed out of the driveway and headed to the Lima Bean. The two jammed out on the short ride there. Once inside, Quinn ordered their coffees and they found a cozy seat by the fire place. "Are you ready for today?" Quinn asked as she tucked her legs up onto the seat underneath herself. "I'm totally nervous. I mean, I think we've got it in the bag, but I'm totally freaking out a little bit." Quinn told Brittany. "Mostly, I think I'm just worried about seeing the old squad again." she confessed between sips of coffee.
Brittany followed Quinn to the fireplace with her drink in hand. The girl much preferred hot chocolate or milkshakes but it was what was keeping her awake. The exception was the sugary flavors. "I am! After all our practices and with your help, I'm not worried." She said and smiled softly at her. "You are the Captain so I'm not surprised you are. Still, don't focus on that too much. It'll go just fine." She let her know, forgetting about the fact that she'd see her old team members. "Do you think they'd like, start fighting with you? You guys couldn't have ended on that much of bad terms. If they weren't good against the new cheerleaders well, that's not your fault."
Quinn just shrugged and thought about it for a moment. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad. "Idk. Sugar felt abandoned when I left. I just assume every felt that way." she said, pursing her lips and thinking about the last time she was in the McKinley gym. Shaking her head and her bouncy ponytail, Quinn tried to push those thoughts away. "Okay. happy things! How did your date go Friday? Will you at least give me details if you won't tell me about the guy?" Quinn asked Brittany, pouting slightly so her friend would give her some details. Quinn was happy Brittany was dating, but she felt like her friend was being very secretive lately and she wasn't sure why. Quinn was hoping she would get to the bottom of that soon.
Brittany laughed lightly as she noticed her pout. She did want to tell her everything. After all, she and Ryder were the two people caring most about her. "Alright, alright. I personally...really liked it. He was sweet, he made me laugh, and trusted me with some stuff he told me. I didn't think I was that into him until we went but still, I don't want to get my hopes up. There is another date though." She smiled and blushed while thinking about it. "How about your date? I still want to know more details on that. And more if there is any."
Quinn Listening intently, Quinn couldn't help but notice the sweet smile forming on Brittany's lips. She hadn't seen her talk about a love interest like this in a long time. "Why wouldn't you want to get your hopes up?" Quinn asked her friend. "It sound like you guys had a great time. You have another date! That's a really good sign, B! What's holding your heart back?" Quinn was concerned that Brittany was going to ruin things before they started, but she didn't want to tell Brittany she was self sabotaging herself. That was too harsh for a perfect unicorn like Britt to hear. "I told you. We got tipsy and watched this great band. Lots of making out. That super cute picture of us that I posted. He came over last night too and we just hung out together. He says he really likes spending time with me and we've basically spent the whole weekend together, if you count tonight. I don't know though... I don't know if we are going anywhere. "
Brittany took a deep breath and wondered if she would reveal too much. She slightly shrugged while tracing the rim of her cup. "Because...I know that he's into someone else. Like, a lot." She admitted and sighed. "I don't know. I wouldn't want to be in the way of anything." It was a chance she was taking but wasn't quite sure what he even thought of these dates. They were fun, no doubt about that but did they mean as much to him as they did for her? "That was an adorable picture! You guys would look cute together." She complimented, hoping that there was indeed more for both of them. They made each other happy which she wasn't sure if people noticed, but Brittany did. "Why don't you know?"
Quinn "Hmmm" Quinn mused while sipping her coffee. She had to think about this one for a minute. She was hoping she would guess who the guy was, but Quinn had no recent memory of someone Brittany had been talking to a lot that could be into someone else, except for Ryder. And she knew that Brittany wasn't going on dates with Ryder. "Well, if this guy is calling it a date and wants to go on another one with you, then I think you have a much bigger shot than you think. Sometimes when you're playing the waiting game for someone, the right person actually comes along and sweeps you off your feet. I bet he's already yours and you're just a little self-conscious about it." It was hard to assess the situation when Quinn didn't know who the guy actually was at this point. "Well, I mean, he makes a point to say that I'm not his girlfriend to everyone. And he says he doesn't want one all the time. So I just don't know... If he wanted to be my boyfriend I'd so be down, but I don't think it's going to get there." Quinn explained her situation with Puck. it was so confusing because they had so much fun together and it seemed like they meant a lot to each other. However, there was a little black cloud named commitment that was rearing it's ugly head.
Brittany Quinn's words helped put her mind at ease. Perhaps Quinn knowing who it was, would change her mind but she was going to enjoy the encouragement for now. "Thank you, Q. I'll remember that. Of course, I'll be sure to update you on my handsome mystery person." She winked before taking a sip of her coffee. "You have to admit that he's not someone to talk about his feelings, you know? You never know how things will turn out. What if, you were the one to ask him? I don't think that's so bad." She wanted her to be happy and truly wondered if Puck would take a chance in being in a relationship. Quinn was a good person and there was no reason why someone else woudn't realize that too.
Quinn "Come on B... not even a hint at who he is?" Quinn joked, poking her best friend to tickle her playfully. 'I don't want to ask him." Quinn said solemnly. "I mean, I don't want to physically be rejected. I would rather live in limbo." she told the girl honestly. "Like, I want the romance part. I want him to ask me. I want it to be cute and to feel all the butterflies and all the good stuff. If he wants to be my boyfriend, he has to ask me. I don't think that is a lot to ask when I've given him... well everything?" Looking down at the table, Quinn sighed heavily. Puck was a high point in her life right now, but thinking about him not being there just made her even more stressed out. "Does that even make any sense?" she asked, looking up at Brittany with some worry in her eyes.
Brittany giggled as she debated it. "Only if you pinkie swear to everything in the world to not bring it up to him. Or bother him about me. It should be his decision." She said to assure her so he wouldn't be pressured or feel weirded out. If he wasn't telling people, that was possibly another sign. "You don't wanna live in a game, Q." She let her know when mentioning limbo. Spotting how clearly Quinn had thought this through, she wanted them to work out. "Yeah, that makes sense." She smiled softly while looking up at her eyes. "I'm hoping he does ask you out. Mostly because even if he says he doesn't want to date, he spends a whole lot of time with you for someone who isn't his girlfriend." She mentioned.
Quinn squealed with delight and held out her pinky. She wrapped it tight around Brittany's and pulled her friend a little closer to her. With their foreheads almost touching, Quinn said, "I pinky swear on everything in the world I will not talk about you to the mystery man or bother him about you." Quinn told her friend. "Unless he asks me!" she added quickly. When the topic was back on Puck, Quinn just nodded for a moment. " i know right? I'm just... I am weary. What if he's spending his time not with me with other girls? What if he's just a love the one youre with kind of person?" she asked genuinely.
Brittany couldn't help but laugh at her reaction. Brittany wrapped her pinkie around Quinn's, squeezing it just a bit to remind her not to do so. "Fine, fine. If he tells you, and reveals that I'm the mystery person, then you can talk about it. A little. But no pushing!" She said and took a deep breath. "It's Finn," She whispered while glancing around them. "I doubt that. He hasn't said anything to anyone about other girls. I'm pretty sure he would be more flirty." She bumped her shoulder with hers gently. "You can't think too much about it like that. Things are looking really good for you guys. If he is thinking on asking you out, he might need time since it's new to him."
Quinn "I just feel like a lot of time has passed and we aren't going anywhere. I'm going to give it a little more time and then make a decision if nothing happens." she told the other blonde. As Brittany got real close, she noticed how her friend scoped the coffee shop to make sure nobody was listening and Quinn couldn't help but think how cute it was. "Oh my GOD! BRITTANY!" Quinn shouted a little louder than she meant to. Quieting down, Quinn grabbed Brittany's hand in excitement. "So you're worried about the fact he liked Rachel right? I really don't think you have to worry about that all that much. Finn is a really honest guy and he wouldn't call it a date if it wasn't a real date. Like, he would just say you were hanging out." Quinn tried to explain but she felt like she was making it worse. "Okay. This is very exciting. When is the next date?"
Brittany pout but understood her hesitance on the subject. "Alright. Good! If he doesn't make a move, you should. And then text me about it." When Quinn shouted she held her hand and squeezed it a bit. "Q!" She giggled while shaking her head, her smile growing when she saw her excitement though. At least she wasn't the only one. "Yeah, I am." She confirmed. "I know, I know. I asked Rachel how she felt too and she said that she didn't mind at all. Besides..the way he talked about her when we hung out? I don't know.." She said softly, not meaning to get so down about it. "It's next weekend at the aquarium. Do you have another with Puck?"
Quinn could see the hesitance in Brittany's face as she mentioned Rachel. "You know how you always do everything for your friends, Britt?" Quinn asked, trying to figure out a way down this path without offending anybody. "I think that this one time, you should think about yourself. And you should do what makes you really happy. And I hope that leads to lots of dates and making out with Finn. But maybe just this one time, it would be okay if you were selfish and you didn't worry about other people and just... go after what you want with no thoughts of other people." She hoped that made sense to Brittany without insulting the girl. She was such a caring soul but Quinn wanted her friend to be happy. She didn't care if Rachel Berry was happy. Laughing a bit as Brittany asked about Puck, Quinn just shook her head no. "He came over last night because he was feeling down about something and we we cuddled and just fell asleep together." she confided in Britt the details of her life with Puck, knowing she could trust the other cheerleader. "And we have the party tonight. He's also coming to the competition today!" Quinn relly couldn't hide her excitement about the boy showing up to Sectionals.
Brittany nodded her head a bit at her question. It was what she did, she wanted to help everyone out and make sure her friends were alright. There was no doubt about hoping there'd be following dates, and make outs as she said. "Thank you." She said before leaning over to hug her tight. "I'll try to remember, I promise. I hope he is happy when we hang out though. Besides, if anyone kisses me, they'll forget whoever they thought they were into." She said to boost her own confidence and laughed softly. "No way! See? He's totally into you. Ugh, it's freaking adorable." She watched as Quinn showed her excitement. "Darn, I should've invited Finn to come. That would have been cute." The fact that Puck was coming made the blonde wish the best for them. "I can't wait for tonight. It's gonna be a blast, no surprise. Plus I'm sure you and Puck are going to be non-stop making out."
Quinn returned the hug with just as much enthusiasm as Brittany. Quinn wasn't much of a hugger, but she would always have a hug for Brittany. "I haven't kissed you, but I know for a fact you're right." Quinn said as she pulled away. While she talked about Puck, she could tell Brittany was over the moon about it. "He was feeling really low last night. He wouldn't tel me anything except that two girls were bitching him out about stuff. I was surprised he actually wanted to just come over and hang out like that, but it was sweet. You can't tell him I told you though! I told him I would never say anything." Quinn laughed and blushed at the thought. When Brittany mentioned inviting Finn, Quinn smiled widely. "I was actually texting him last night, before I knew any of this, and he is coming! He said he was excited to watch me and you cheer... this is all making sense now..." Quinn trailed off, teasing Brittany slightly.
Brittany "That's your loss." She teased her while sitting back in her spot. Last night made Brittany worry about why he got that message but genuinely hoped he didn't believe whoever it was. That and the two girls being upset with him well, she was relieved Quinn was with him to have him feel better. "I won't! I wouldn't want to risk it. Even if it is the cutest thing ever." She giggled. "I'm happy you were there for him though. Both of you are just the sweetest, huh?" When Quinn said that he'd be coming, she blushed once more and couldn't wait to spot him in the stands. "He is?! Awesome!" She shook her head while laughing at her. "Suuure it is."
Quinn "Yeah well, he was there for me when my dad.. you know. So I want to be there for him." Quinn said with a nonchalant shrug. At the mention of Finn, Brittany lit up like a Christmas tree. "You are soooo cute. Your face gets all pink when we talk about him. I support this 1000000%." Quinn told her friend. Looking down at her watch, Quinn noticed the time and sighed. She had wanted to talk about Sugar, but figured that issue wasn't going away any time soon so she wouldn't spoil the good girl talk with family talk. "We should hit the road, my friend. But I'm very happy we had this coffee hour. I needed to relax. Thank you." Quinn leaned down and kissed Brittany's forehead as she wlked over to the trash to throw her cup away. As she watched Brittany saunter over she said, "The Cheerios won't know what hit them,"
Brittany nodded when she mentioned her father. Every time she missed him she wished she could do something to make her pain easier to deal with. "I see. It seems to be working." She smiled while she stood up and shook her head. "It'd cold! My cheeks are going to get pink," She said as an excuse, but more than glad Quinn was supporting her. "Sorry we couldn't do it sooner. I enjoy this all the time." She tossed out her own cup in the trash as well. "Let's goo!"
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The 500-rep Challenge for Bigger Triceps
Ian Spanier / M+F Magazine
Flex Lewis, the reigning six-time Mr. Olympia 212 champion, possesses what is considered the perfect physique—he has full, large muscles, and every body part appears perfectly symmetrical. Sure, you may not strive to be as big or as shredded as Lewis (the look isn’t for everyone, after all), but his approach to training is still sound, and you can learn from it. “I come in every year at the top end of the 212 class, so my goal is to always refine my body parts,” says Lewis, who, despite winning each of his O titles handily, attacks every workout with extreme ferocity. Take his triceps routine of years past as but one example. To Lewis, this 500-rep behemoth of a routine is simply a warmup, a normal occurrence for the 33-year-old Welshman. To you, though, it’ll be a challenge. In his own words, the 212 champ breaks down the origin of his workout and what you can expect. Just don’t expect it to be easy.
THE CENTURY MARK
“In days of old, people saw me doing these 100-rep sets for my triceps— five cable exercises that I did back-to-back for 20 reps each,” Lewis says. “I kinda became known for them. I’d do them three to four times and then go into the rest of my regular triceps workout.”
While the exact moves involved aren’t set in stone (in fact, we switched a few around ourselves), he’d often begin with a rope pushdown, setting up a rope on one side of a cable-crossover apparatus. “I make sure my elbows are close to my body,” he says. “The form itself is not sloppy, it’s controlled, so the triceps never have the opportunity to rest. At the top, my hands come up close to my face for a longer stretch, without letting the weight stack touch down—I envision it as if I’m doing a skull crusher but standing up—and I turn out the ends of the rope at the bottom at lockout.”
After 20 reps, he switches to the V-bar pushdown, taking only about 10 seconds to switch between exercises, and gets right back into his reps. “With all five moves, I focus on the stretch just as much as I do the contraction,” Lewis says. “I’m trying to force as much blood as I can into the muscle.”
PRESSING FORTH
The third exercise is a pushdown variation. (We opted for a banded pushdown to keep tension on the muscle at all times.) Lewis recommends choosing a weight (or, in this case, resistance band) that will allow you to elicit failure at 20 reps. “On the first exercise, you pick a load that you could probably do for 25 or so reps,” Lewis says. “So you’re almost failing, but then you go to a different angle.”
Rest throughout is kept to a minimum, just long enough to go from one move to the next in between exercises. In between circuits, he’ll rest only as long as it takes his training partner to finish his round.
That doesn’t mean, however, that you shouldn’t pause mid-set if you need to. “If you hit failure,” he says, “you can use rest-pause, holding for just a couple of seconds to let your muscles partially recover before continuing.
“By the last exercise,” he adds with a devilish smirk, “your muscles are screaming when you get to 10 to 15—but you have to do 20 reps, I don’t care how long it takes.”
ROARING ENGINE
Using the short, straight bar attachment, Lewis then flips his grip for underhand pushdowns for 20 reps, followed by the final exercise in the sequence, overhead rope extensions.
“On extensions, I’m really focusing on the stretch, and I never lock out on that,” he explains. “My visualization on that last exercise is like a piston in a car, so it’s a consistent motion and speed, not too fast, not too slow, but a lot faster than the other sets because there’s so much blood in that muscle at that moment. Picture it as if you’re stretching the muscle, then punching it out.”
Just once through the gauntlet would be enough for most. Lewis, however, would continue for up to four total rounds, to the point where he could barely bend his elbows. “By the last set of rope extensions,” he says, “there’s already an ungodly amount of blood in the muscle, the fascia is screaming at its limits, the arms are swelled way beyond their normal size—and you still have a lot more triceps work to do.”
JUST THE BEGINNING
Yes, it’s true: That was only his warmup. Lewis then proceeds to do three exercises performed more traditionally: three sets of 10 to 15 reps, pyramiding up the weight from set to set.
“I don’t go into the gym with a set workout or exercises in mind—I’ll mix it up,” he says. “Maybe a seated EZ-bar or dumbbell extension, a close-grip bench, a heavy pushdown, a dip machine. I’m going heavier, but I’m always getting at least 10 reps. To me, I need to have a good working set of 10. If you get to eight, you know you can force out the next two, or you have a spotter there to get that extra two.”
BATTLE READY
In the months leading up to Olympia Weekend, Lewis hunkers down in what he refers to as his “base camp”—a 10,000-square-foot warehouse where he has his business offices and a private, envy-inducing 5,000-square-foot gym stocked with all the tools he needs to keep his 5'5", 230-pound off-season physique in prime condition.
“It’s not open to the public, there are no other members but me, so I have no distractions,” he says of the iron oasis. “Here, I can focus on my job, and that is to defend the 212 title, year after year.”
In the past, Lewis has contemplated the idea of moving up to the open class, allowing his body to grow without restriction instead of whittling down so much muscle as he gets under the class weight limit. Yet, at this moment, anything beyond his attempt at an unprecedented seventh title defense in Las Vegas is firmly not on his mind.
“If my coach [Neil Hill] had his way, I’d be doing open class,” he admits. “But my focus is the 212, and 212 only. I only have eyes for that now. I only focus on the next task at hand. That approach doesn’t set you up for failure, and it doesn’t put any pressure on you. I know what I can control in the 212 class, and that is going out this year and, God willing, it goes according to plan and I defend that title.”
Workout Tip: See any rest time between sets? No? That's the point. If you must take a break, count to 10, then continue.
Topics:
Advanced Workouts
Hypertrophy
Triceps
Build Muscle
from Bodybuilding Feed https://www.muscleandfitness.com/workouts/arm-exercises/500-rep-challenge-bigger-triceps via http://www.rssmix.com/
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I do not like that Adele and the rest of those cry babies. I want to listen to girls that fuck shit up. Oh boo hoo, shut up, get angry, turn that hurt into art, scream, do whatever you want, just don’t be Tori Amos.
You know how it is, you are listening to a podcast about female punk rock singers and it gets you to thinking about what sort of lists there are of singers out there on the intertubes. You hit the google running and land on this gem: a FREE 325 track female-fronted punk rock international anthology. I have not even begun to make a dent in this list, they are all waiting patiently for my next thirteen or so trips to the gym. Actually knowing those ladies, probably not too patently.
A Reference Of Female-Fronted Punk Rock: 1977-89
A Reference Of Female-Fronted Punk Rock: 1977-89
As the title indicates, this is a homemade 12 x CD-R (!) compilation of punk bands fronted by female vocalists from 1977 to 1989.
More like a giant mixtape than a compilation, as only 36 copies were made. You may notice that some of the bands didn’t have a steady female vocalist (The Lewd, etc.) but he still included songs that were sung by another member of the band. This is as international as it gets, with stuff ranging from world famous Blondie or Crass to the most obscure Eastern European cassette compilation veterans.
[UPDATE 4-4-2016] All the links have been updated and should work now. Thank you so much for your interest.
DISC 1: Download link
1. Blutsturz – Schweigen (Demo) (Germany, 198?) 2. Penetration – Money Talks (England, 1977) 3. Pyhäkoulu – Painajainen (Finland, 1986) 4. VulpeSS – Me Gusta Ser Una Zorra (Spain, 1983) 5. The Comes – Panic (Japan, 1984) 6. Suicide Squad – New Kids Army (Australia, 1980) 7. Rivolta Dell’Odio – Altari Del Terrore (Italy, 1984) 8. Sick Things – Anti-Social Disease (England, 1977) 9. Accident (a.k.a Accidents) – True Detective (USA, 1979) 10. Dishrags – I Don’t Love You (Canada, 1979) 11. Último Resorte – Hogar, Dulce Hogar (Demo) (Spain, 1981) 12. The Fastbacks – Someone Else’s Room (USA, 1981) 13. Anorexia – Rapist In The Park (England, 1980) 14. Phobia – Pretend You’re Not Crazy (USA, 1978) 15. Androids Of Mu – Bored Housewives (England, 1981) 16. Sort Sol (With Lydia Lunch) – Boy-Girl (Denmark/USA, 1983) 17. Tappi Tikarrass – Skrid (Iceland, 1984) 18. Flowers – After Dark (Scotland, 1979) 19. The Rentals – I Got A Crush On You (USA, 1979) 20. Pariapunk – Double Face (France, 1987) 21. Amsterdamned – Traditie Amme Balle (Netherlands, 1982) 22. Dr. Zeke – Vild I Skogen (Sweden, 1979) 23. The Lewd – Magnetic Heart (USA, 1982) 24. Au Pairs – Kerb Crawler (England, 1980) 25. Mo-Dettes – White Mice (USA/Switzerland/England, 1979) 26. Stripes – Weekend Love (Germany, 1980) 27. Violators – The Fugitive (England, 1980)
DISC 2: Download link
1. Schund – Schund (Austria, 1982) 2. Wunderbach – Raya (France, 1982) 3. Total Muzak – Någonstans I Sta’n (Sweden, 1980) 4. Liliput – Hitch-Hike (Switzerland, 1980) 5. NJF – Sitting!! Pretty (Canada, 1984) 6. S.I.B. – Listless (Italy, 1981) 7. Manisch Depressiv – Zeitmaschine 1 (Switzerland, 1983) 8. Sheena & The Rokkets – Omae Ga Hoshii (One More Time) (Japan, 1979) 9. Rezillos – Flying Saucer Attack (Scotland, 1978) 10. Sado-Nation – Messed Up Mixed Up (USA, 1982) 11. Lucrate Milk – Fucking Pacifist (France, 1983) 12. Dan – Lust Is Greed (England, 1987) 13. Nasty Facts – Drive My Car (USA, 1981) 14. Life Cycle – Indifference (Wales, 1988) 15. Livin’ Sacrifice – Mentalsjuk (Sweden, 1981) 16. The Brat – Attitudes (USA, 1980) 17. Non Band – Ducan Dancin’ (Japan, 1982) 18. Bizkids – VIPs (Netherlands, 1980) 19. Minus Cway – Gdje Me Vjetar Odnese (Yugolsavia, 1982-88) 20. The Rats – Broken Wire Telephone (USA, 1983) 21. Anouschka & Les Privés – Contrôle (France, 1980) 22. Slits – Vindictive (England, 1977) 23. ICA – Untitled (Netherlands, 1981) 24. Trash – Peace Of What (USA, 1984) 25. Boys Boys – Monley Monkey (Japan, 1980) 26. Honey Bane – Girl On The Run (England, 1979) 27. TNT – Razzia (Switzerland, 1981) 28. Nuns – Wild (USA, 1980) 29. Electric Deads – 30 Years (Denmark, 1982) 30. Conflict – Who Will (USA, 1984) 31. Atims – Women (Netherlands, 1982)
DISC 3: Download link
1. Hans-A-Plast – Polizeiknüppel (Germany, 1979) 2. Usch – LTO (Sweden, 1979) 3. Desechables – El Asesino (Spain, 1984) 4. Ici Paris – Le Centre Du Monde (France, 1980) 5. Action Pact – Suicide Bag (England, 1982) 6. Invaders – Backstreet Romeo (England, 1980) 7. Lepers – Flipout (USA, 1979) 8. Franti – Vento Rosso (Italy, 1983) 9. Out On Blue 6 – Examples (England, 1981) 10. Mr. Kite – Exit B9 (Japan, 1978) 11. De Zweetkutten – Atoomgeweld (Netherlands, 1981) 12. Ideal – Berlin (Germany, 1980) 13. Holly And The Italians – I Wanna Go Home (USA, 1981) 14. Modesty – Kad Srce Radi Bi Bam (Yugoslavia, 1982-88) 15. Delta 5 – Anticipation (England, 1980) 16. Beex – He Obliterates Me (USA, 1981) 17. Kaltwetterfront – Revolverheld (Germany, 1982) 18. Hydra – Ombre (Italy, 1985) 19. Vacum – Är Ungdomar Människor? (Sweden, 1980) 20. Nixe – Man Under My Bed (Netherlands, 1981) 21. Alternative – Seen Through Tear-Filled Eyes (Scotland, 1984) 22. Schematix – Nothing Special (USA, 1980) 23. Eyes – Don’t Talk To Me (USA, 1978) 24. Russians – Anything She Wants (England, 1980) 25. Kontrola W. – Manekiny (Poland, 1982/1998)
DISC 4: Download link
1. Kizza Ping – Den Nya (Sweden, 1982) 2. Strapaze – Tage (Germany, 1983) 3. Glueams – 365 (Switzerland, 1979) 4. Kleenex Aktiv – Hilfe (Germany, 1985) 5. XL Capris – My City Of Sydney (Australia, 1980) 6. Josie Cotton – Johnny, Are You Queer? (USA, 1981) 7. Rakketax – Van Agt (Netherlands, 1980) 8. A-Heads – No Rule (England, 1982) 9. Drustvo Prisjecavalaca Boljih Dana – Sexualna Ovisnost (Yugoslavia, 1982-88) 10. Pink Champagne – Söndagsskolehyckel (Sweden, 1980) 11. Curse – Killer Bees (Canada, 1978) 12. Flirt – Don’t Push Me (USA, 1978) 13. Mizutama Shouboudan – Shinkuu Pakku Toraberu (Japan, 1981) 14. Bizon Kidz – Godsdienstwaanzin (Netherlands, 1981) 15. X-Ray Spex – I Live Off You (England, 1978) 16. Reactors – World War Four (USA, 1980) 17. Klasse Kriminale – Construito In Italia (Italy, 1988) 18. Debils – Maso (Switzerland, 1981) 19. Plastix – Geschlechtsverkehr (Austria, 1981) 20. Avengers – Teenage Rebel (USA, 1978) 21. Hagar The Womb – Idolization (England, 1983) 22. Blitzkrieg – Szene (Germany, 1989) 23. DIRT – Hiroshima (England, 1981) 24. Disturbers – KZ Syndroom (Netherlands, 1980) 25. Andreas Dorau Und Die Marinas – Fred Vom Jupiter (Germany, 1981) 26. Pandoras – That’s Your Way Out (USA, 1984) 27. Lost Cherrees – Living In A Coffin (England, 1982) 28. Learned Helplessness – Vegis (USA, 1982) 29. A-Gen-53 – Stalingrad-Stumpfsinn (Austria, 1981)
DISC 5: Download link
1. Crass – Where Next Columbus? (England, 1981) 2. A.P.P.L.E. – If In Heaven (USA, 1985) 3. Sleeping Dogs – (I Got My Tan In) El Salvador (USA/England, 1982) 4. Asbest – Family Care (Netherlands, 1982) 5. FFF – Arbeit Macht Dumm (Germany, 1986) 6. Gas – World Peace (Japan, 1985) 7. Les Calamités – Toutes Les Nuits (France, 1984) 8. Mother’s Ruin – Godzilla (Switzerland, 1979) 9. Toxic Waste – Traditionally Yours (Northern Ireland, 1985) 10. The Ex – Lied Der Steinklopfer (Netherlands, 1989) 11. NBJ – Dead Porker (USA, 1982) 12. Doll – Trash (England, 1978) 13. ST-37 – Unknown Soldier (Germany, 1985) 14. Jetset – Tot Hier En Niet Verder (Netherlands, 1982) 15. Fega Påhopp – Hålla Masken (Sweden, 1980) 16. Alma Y Los Cadáveres – Confidencias de Nutrexpa (Spain, 1982) 17. Da Stupids – Alien (USA, 198?) 18. Essential Logic – Quality Crayon Wax OK (England, 1979) 19. Beardsley – Summer Holiday (Japan, 1986) 20. Lärm – Pigeon (Netherlands, 1982) 21. Fatal Microbes – Violence Grows (England, 1978) 22. Sin 34 – Not (USA, 1983) 23. Vice Squad – Latex Love (England, 1980) 24. Lord Eva Braun – Week-End à Blois (France, 1989) 25. Ätztussis – Bullen (Germany, 1980) 26. Falange – Falange Suburbana (Brazil, 1988) 27. Bags – Survive (USA, 1978)
DISC 6: [linked removed per request]
1. Conflict – The Guilt And The Glory (England, 1982) 2. Putrid Girls – 1234 (USA, 1983) 3. Nog Watt – Going On (Netherlands, 1984) 4. Suburban Reptiles – 45 Single (New Zealand, 1978) 5. Lost Kids – Alle Taler (Denmark, 1979) 6. Edith Nylon – Edith Nylon (France, 1979) 7. Expelled – No Life, No Future (England, 1982) 8. Tollwut – Seuchen (Germany, 1981) 9. Blondie – Youth Nabbed As Sniper (USA, 1977) 10. Wartburgs Für Walter – More More Anymore (East Germany, 1989) 11. Ref – Soda Bikarbona (Yugoslavia, 1982-86) 12. Chumbawamba – beginning To Take It Back (England, 1986) 13. Mizz Nobody – Smittad (Sweden, 1978) 14. Platzangst – It’s A Light (Germany, 1983) 15. The Pogues – I’m A Man You Don’t Meet Every Day (Ireland, 1985) 16. St. Vitus Dancers – The Survivor (England, 1982) 17. Mary Monday & The Bitches – I Gave My Punk Jacket To Rickie (USA, 1977) 18. DZK – Juventude (Brazil, 1988) 19. Cocadictos – Juan Pablo II Y Amigos (Spain, 1983-84) 20. K.U.K.L. – Dismembered (Iceland, 1984) 21. Petticoats – Allergy (England, 1980) 22. Kalashnikov – Ødelæg Og Hærg (Denmark, 1984) 23. [name removed per request] 24. Indirekt – Shell Helpt (Netherlands, 1985) 25. Namenlos – Nazis (East Germany, 1984) 26. UXA – No Time (USA, 1980) 27. Peggy Luxbeurk – Sueur Froide (France, 1982) 28. Flere Døde Pansere – Midedød (Denmark, 1983)
DISC 7: Download link
1. Toxic Shock – Remote Control (England, 1984) 2. Toxic Shock – Riot Riot Riot (USA, 1982) 3. Zelda – [Japanese Title] (Japan, 1981) 4. Total Chaoz – Oh Beatrix (Netherlands, 1981) 5. ZOI – Psaulme 1 (France, 1986) 6. Tozibabe – Moja Praznina (Yugoslavia, 1985) 7. Xmal Deutschland – Qual (Germany, 1983) 8. Ghost Walks – Fallen Angel (USA, 1985) 9. Life In The Fridge Exists – Have You Checked The Children? (New Zealand, 1980) 10. X – Nausea (USA, 1980) 11. Sacrilege – Dig Your Own Grave (England, 1985) 12. Combat Not Conform – Keep Your Head (Germany, 1985) 13. Typhus – [Japanese Title] (Japan, 1980) 14. Foreign Legion – Trenchline (Wales, 1986) 15. Rough Cut – Danger Boy (USA, 1981) 16. Ludus – Mother’s Hour (England, 1981) 17. The Bastards – Impossibilities (Switzerland, 1978) 18. Rutto – Paha, Kuolema (Finland, 1983) 19. Nikki Corvette – Young & Crazy (USA, 1977) 20. Photos – Skateboard (England, 1980) 21. Last Few – Suicide Commando (Netherlands, 1983) 22. Tyranna – Back Off Baby (Canada, 1980) 23. Screaming Sneakers – Violent Days (USA, 1982) 24. Poison Girls – Statement (Englmand, 1982) 25. Verdun – Günther (France, 1988) 26. Noh Mercy – Caucasian Guilt (USA, 1979) 27. Bow Wow Wow – C30, C60, C90, Go (England, 1980) 28. Götterflies – Empty (Netherlands, 1981)
DISC 8: Download link
1. Post Mortem – The Casualty (England, 1985) 2. Antischism – Evil God (demo) (USA, 1989) 3. Wrong Kind Of Stone Age – Run Amok (Australia, 1984) 4. The Puke – Happy Family (Netherlands, 1981) 5. Teddy & The Frat Girls – Clubnite (USA, 1980) 6. Questions – Take A Ride (France, 1980) 7. 無理心中 [Muri Shinjuu] – Shikyuu (Japan, 1980-82) 8. Rubella Ballet – Something To Give (England, 1982) 9. Die Tödliche Doris – Kavaliere (Germany, 1982) 10. Los Microwaves – Time To Get Up (USA, 1981) 11. Extrém Exém – Eget Liv (Sweden, 1982) 12. Icon A.D. – Fight For Peace (England, 1982) 13. Dago Wops – Big Mac (Germany, 1981) 14. 8-Eyed Spy – Diddy Wah Diddy (USA, 1980) 15. Indian Dream – Insult To Injury (England, 1985) 16. Destroy All Monsters – Bored (USA, 1978) 17. Bluttat – Flying Into Heaven’s Door (Germany, 1985) 18. Raincoats – Adventures Close To Home (England, 1979) 19. Afrika Korps – Buzz Stomp (USA, 1977) 20. M’n’M’s – I’m Tired (USA, 1980) 21. キャ→ [Kyah!] – Slapdash (Japan, 1985) 22. Teenage Jesus & The Jerks – Less Of Me (USA, 1978) 23. Dog Faced Hermans – Balloon Girl (Scotland/Netherlands, 1987) 24. Mydolls – Soldiers Of A Pure War (USA, 1983) 25. Gash – Gash Trash (Australia, 1986)
DISC 9: Download link
1. Berlin – The Metro (USA, 1982) 2. Poles – C.N. Tower (Canada, 1977) 3. Kuolleet Kukat – Vihollinen On Systeemi (Finland, 1984) 4. Joyce McKinney Experience – Armchair Critic (England, 1989) 5. VKTMS – Hard Case (USA, 1979) 6. ゴメス [Gomess] – 地獄へ (Japan, 1986) 7. Charol – Sin Dinero (Spain, 1980) 8. Tragics (a.k.a Misfits) – Mommi I’m A Misfit (USA, 1981) 9. Kandeggina Gang – Sono Cattiva (Italy, 1980) 10. Jingo De Lunch – What You See (Germany, 1987) 11. Vermilion – Angry Young Women (England, 1978) 12. The Maggots – (Let’s Get, Let’s Get) Tammy Wynette (USA, 1979) 13. Brain Death – Personal Affair (Japan, 1987) 14. Squits – Porno Pirate (Netherlands, 1982) 15. Siouxsie And The Banshees – The Staircase (Mystery) (England, 1979) 16. Unwarranted Trust – Honour’s Calling (Canada, 1984) 17. Bulimia Banquet – Scientology Sucks (USA, 1988) 18. Nurse – ナ-ス (Japan, 1983) 19. Secta Suicida Siglo 20 – Virginidad Sacudida (Mexico, 1989) 20. Castration Squad – The X Girlfriend (USA, 1979) 21. Jo Squillo Eletrix – Skizzo Skizzo (Italy, 1981) 22. A5 – Reeperbahn (Germany, 1980) 23. Manufactured Romance – You (England, 1980) 24. Frigidettes – Turmoil (USA, 1982) 25. Capitalist Alienation – Nuclear Trash (Canada, 1987) 26. Sperma – Please Love Me Tonight (Japan, 1985) 27. Mystery Girls – Ego (USA, 1983) 28. Exeroica – Del Apocalipsis (Argentina, 1988) 29. Partners In Crime – I Wanna Drive You (USA, 1984) 30. Dawn Patrol – What My Gonna Do (With Me) (England, 1981) 31. Maps – My Eyes Are Burning (USA, 1979)
DISC 10: Download link
1. Neo Boys – Never Comes Down (USA, 1980) 2. New Walls – No Creation!? (Japan, 1985) 3. Gymslips – Miss Nunsweeta (England, 1982) 4. Loud Warning – Loud Warning (Netherlands, 1986) 5. Vs. – Magnetic Hearts (USA, 1980) 6. Turncoats – Waste Of Time (England, 1987) 7. Agonia – [Unknown title] (Italy, 1985) 8. Demented – Back To The Bed (USA, 1982) 9. PVC – Galehus (Norway, 1980) 10. Girls At Our Best! – Warm Girls (England, 1980) 11. Wilma & The Wilbers – Chronic Alkie (USA, 1980) 12. Cringe – Secretary Spread (USA, 1981) 13. Detectors – La Ciutat No Es Per Mi (Spain, 1987) 14. Suburban Lawns – Gidget Goes To Hell (USA, 1979) 15. Red Scare – Streetlife (USA, 1982) 16. Sofa Head – Invitation To Dinner (England, 1989) 17. 45 Grave – Black Cross (USA, 1980) 18. Plasmatics – Dream Lover (USA, 1979) 19. Not Moving – Behind Your Pale Face (Italy, 1983) 20. Enemy – Want Me (USA, 1978) 21. Potential Threat – Animal Abuse (England, 1982) 22. Anti-Scrunti Faction – Slave To My Estrogen (USA, 1985) 23. Legal Weapon – Hostility (USA, 1981) 24. OXZ – Be Run Down (Japan, 1984) 25. Shivvers – Teen Line (USA, 1980) 26. Donkeys – Wacky Acky I Aye (England, 1978-82) 27. Wrecks – Punk Is An Attitude (USA, 1982) 28. La Souris Déglinguée – Marie France (France, 1983) 29. SST – Autistic (USA, 1977) 30. Anti/Dogmatikss – Estado De Caos (demo) (Spain, 1983)
DISC 11: Download link
1. Abwärts – Bel Ami (Germany, 1980) 2. Even Worse – Illusion Won Again (USA, 1981) 3. F.U.A.L. – Freedom Under Animal Liberation (Northern Ireland, 1989) 4. Nena – Nur Geträumt (Germany, 1983) 5. Gruftrosen – Mörder Von Gestern (Austria, 1985) 6. Sledgehammer – Paramilitary Recruits (Northern Ireland, 1988-ish) 7. Deutscher Abschaum – The German Superman (Germany, 1984) 8. Family Fodder – Debbie Harry (England, 1980) 9. Pink Turds In Space – Eastenders (Northern Ireland, 1988) 10. Die Mimmi’s – Mc Donald (Germany, 1984) 11. No-Song Kutkotz – Telegram (Netherlands, 1984) 12. Ratos De Porão – Nao Me Importo (live) (Brazil, 1985) 13. Martina + Part Time Punx – Mehr Von Dir (Germany, 1987) 14. Frightwig – Only You (USA, 1984) 15. Big In Japan – Big In Japan (England, 1977) 16. Bärchen Und Die Milchbubis – Jung Kaputt Spart Alterscheime (Germany, 1980) 17. Mood Of Defiance – American Love Song (USA, 1983) 18. Virgin Rocks – Get Along With You (Japan, 1987) 19. Ana Hausen – Professionals (England, 1981) 20. Métal Boys – New Malden (France, 1980) 21. Red Cross – Standing In Front Of Poseur (USA, 1980) 22. Dolly Mixture – Been Teen (England, 1981) 23. Morbid Opera – White Flag (USA, 1983) 24. Chin-Chin – We Don’t Wanna Be Prisoners (Switzerland, 1984) 25. Lovedolls – Now That I’ve Tasted Blood (USA, 1986) 26. Compos Mentis – Confused (New Zealand, 1985-ish) 27. Hysteria – Silent Hate (England, 1984)
DISC 12: Download link
1. Pervers – Asozial (Germany, 1984) 2. Hugh Beaumont Experience – Moo (USA, 1983) 3. Inocentes with Meire – Ri Dos Hippies (Brazil, 1984) 4. Ruggedy Annes – Hollow Heroes (Canada, 1985) 5. Blowdriers – Berkeley Farms (USA, 1979) 6. Rap – Accident (Japan, 1985) 7. Decadent – Opposition Proposition (USA, 1982) 8. Warriors – Born To Ride (Japan, 1987) 9. Bambix – Little Miss Sunshine (Netherlands, 1989) 10. Super Heroines – Death On The Elevator (USA, 1981) 11. Cherry Vanilla – The Punk (England, 1977) 12. Hari-Kari – Prey For Peace (USA, 1983) 13. Kleenex – Ü (Switzerland, 1979) 14. Chute De Esperma – No Keremos (Spain, 1984) 15. Revo – Fuck The School (Netherlands, 1980) 16. The Fall – Hotel Blôedel (England, 1983) 17. Der Riß – Images (Germany, 1985)
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New Post has been published on CrossFit 416
March 2017 Athlete of the Month: Jax Mattioli
First of all, tell us a little bit about yourself—where are you from, what do you do outside of the time you spend here, hobbies, fun facts, etc. anything goes! The more the better! What would you like people to know about you?
I grew up in Dundas, Ontario and still consider myself to be a small-town girl living in the city. I am fortunate to be able to spend most weekends at the cottage on Georgian Bay to keep me balanced with the chaos of city life. I love a new challenge, and spending time outdoors – I generally look for new sports to try, but prefer team/social sports to individual. I also love checking out the local dining scene in whichever city I am in, and love finding the hidden gems. I literally have a notepad in my iPhone with a list full of my favourite restaurants and those I still want to try across North America. Otherwise, you can find me playing ball on the beach with our dog Oban, Sailing or Cycling.
Life is extra busy right now as I am counting down the days (and $$$ L) until my wedding, this June, just outside of Charleston, South Carolina. I’m grateful for the support of all the coaches, especially Rachel, as I try to keep focused on regaining my pre-travel body and lifestyle habits, and to look good in my wedding dress of course J.
Tell us a little bit about your fitness history. What were you doing before you joined CrossFit 416? How did you find out about us? How was your first class here? How long have you been coming here? What has been the biggest factor in keeping you hooked at CF 416?
I played competitive softball for over 20 years at a provincial, national, and varsity level. I used to train and play 3-5 days a week, plus up to 8 tournament weekends. It was my life for a long time!!! Until I tore my shoulder playing for McMaster University. I trained and played one more season before deciding it was time to retire. After a year of physiotherapy, it was clear weightlifting was no longer an option, it was going to be a critical part of keeping my shoulder strong and pain free. So I replaced my 3-5 days of softball training with 3-5 days in the gym, obsessively reading about training. I added Cycling, Golf and Yoga and actually came to a place where I was the fittest I’d been since I was a kid.
Things all got complicated when I was promoted to a national role that had me travelling 3-4 weeks out of a month. That’s when I discovered CrossFit. I met a man in a hotel gym training a client; turns out he owned a box in Alberta. After I told him CrossFit wasn’t for me, he invited me to come to his box for a WOD, I declined, but accepted his dare to find a Box in Toronto and give it a shot.
My first class was BRUTAL—thanks, Luke!. Lol. I will never forget the 20 minute AMRAP: Push Ups, Sit Ups, and Air Squats. I remember leaving the class and texting a note back saying: “Thanks, but no thanks.” The next day, when I woke up, and EVERYTHING hurt – I wrote back and said “I think I’m in love…” That was it for me. That was before I fell head over heels in love with the amazing coaches and people I’ve met – of course now I could never leave.
If you could go back to that first class and give yourself some advice based on what you know and understand now, what would it be?
The only person you are ever competing against is yourself. I think any athlete would agree it can be difficult not to feel the nerves and pressure as barbells are smashing down around you and people are moving so fast. Also – mobility. I think I always went through the motions with softball warm ups, but really learned the importance of it in CrossFit – this sport will take your ego down a few levels and highlights every weakness you have!!! Lastly, leverage the coaches. Whether you are new to CrossFit or a veteran, CrossFit 416 is stacked with some amazing people who can quickly assess your form and help you work with your body to get the most out of your workouts and improve faster than you will on your own. Even when you think you’ve mastered it, bad habits are easy to build. Ask for a form check from time to time, you won’t regret it!
What is your favourite movement in CrossFit? Why?
I actually have a love/hate for Wallballs. LOL I hate them while I am doing them, but honestly, I can’t get enough of the pain in my butt and legs the next day. I know they work! Also, I love lunges and have come to enjoy rowing. Did I actually just say that?
Aaaand your least favourite movement and why?
I would trade Thrusters for just about anything else. They are my sore spot for sure. Barbells, dumbbells, doesn’t matter, I have a big time hate-on for Thrusters. Showing up on a Thruster day is hard.
If we could create a Hero WOD named “Jax”, what would it be? Movements, rep schemes, rounds, length of time, etc. all variables are yours to unleash your programming creativity here!
Let’s Tabata all my favourites!!!
8 Rounds of each :20 on :10 off
Overhead Plate Lunges
Ball Slams
Rowing
Toes to Bar/Post
Wall Balls
Ring Rows
Ring Dips
Is that too much? J What is the favourite place you’ve travelled to? Why? Where are you planning on going next?
Gosh, I have travelled a lot but will say there are still so many places I want to see! One of my favourite places, however, is a little barrier Island outside of Charleston, South Carolina called Kiawah Island. It is part of what they call “Lowcountry” and rich with history, architecture, and some of the most amazing food in North America. There is something about Southern Hospitality and charm that makes you feel worlds away, or as if you have stepped back in time.
Kiawah Island itself sits on the Atlantic Ocean, it is a private residential island about with a beach strip 10 miles long. Once you arrive, you can literally park your car and move about the island on bicycle. One of my favourite things to do is ride through the streets admiring the multi-million dollar plantation style homes on the way up to the Ocean Course Golf Club, enjoy a bottle of our favourite wine and some lunch on the patio before letting the wind push us all the way back down the beach on our bicycles.
We love it so much we will be heading back in just a few short months for our own low-country intimate seaside wedding in June. After that I will go back to my bucket list and pick another spot.
How do you like your toast?
I like my toast thick and crusty, golden brown like it’s been meticulously torched by a fine dining pastry chef, topped with crunchy peanut butter and a thick layer of creamed local honey. YUM!
Tell us something about yourself no one might ever guess about you.
I am bizarrely shy and hate being the center of attention unless it’s part of a team, and I’m not big on surprises, hahaha. Yep, my nooners can attest I would kill myself in a WOD just not to end up having a crowd around me cheering me on. I once followed the office crowd into the office they planned to surprise me in for my birthday, and yelled surprise before they even knew I was in the room. The only surprise I liked was when my fiancé proposed, because he kept it simple and private on the beach at our cottage. Trust me, I was still awkward!!!
What are three things we would always find in your fridge?
Multiple Nut Butters, Eggs, Maple Syrup
Who inspires you?
My fiancé Cameron. I met him as he was training for an Ironman Race. A gruelling 140.6 miles of Swimming, Cycling and Running. He encouraged me to run a 13.1 mile half marathon, I don’t think I ever did a single training run I didn’t complain about. I don’t know how he ran a 26.2 mile marathon after 7 hours of swimming and cycling. He never complained when training, just just got up and got it done. It definitely hurt, and it wasn’t easy, so he either has the pain tolerance of a god or the focus and determination of a first class athlete. That is inspiring.
Otherwise, it’s the members at CF 416 who push themselves every day. I would probably take the slacker way out if Coach Derya wasn’t watching and pushing me on my weight selection each day.
What is your proudest accomplishment thus far in life?
Realizing I can survive just about anything and that I can find gratitude even in the worst times. I would have to say I’m also pretty proud of my people collecting skills – I am surrounded by some of the most diverse and amazing people who have been a greater part of my journey than they will ever personally know. I have learned a lot about life, the ups and downs, the ins and outs, but mostly – the importance of people. You never know how you will touch someone’s life, what they struggle with, or how you might affect their journey, be kind, be true, be open. We are all in this together.
What is your most embarrassing childhood/teenage infatuation/trend/fad, etc. that you wholeheartedly prescribed to?
Geez, that’s a tough one. I generally hate fads. I am plain Jane and could probably pull something out of the closet from 15 years ago that wouldn’t truly show its age. LOL But I will admit, I was a boy band kind of girl and sucker for a love song. Still am, hahaha
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