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bluenet13 · 4 years ago

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What's Really Keeping You Awake?

Written for @badthingshappenbingo

Fandom: 9-1-1: Lone Star

Characters: T.K. Strand, Carlos Reyes, Nancy Gillian, firefam (mentioned).

Prompt: Arm in a Sling

Summary: When T.K. gets hurt at work he tries to hide the injury from Carlos. But he should have known his boyfriend is always one step ahead.

Links: ff.net - AO3

T.K's fingers tapped impatiently against his thigh as he waited for his call to get picked up.

"Hi, babe, everything okay?" Came Carlos' eventual greeting.

"Hi, yeah, everything's alright. Just wanted to let you know that I won't be going home tonight after shift. Going with Owen instead," T.K. said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Why?" Carlos asked suspiciously. "Is he okay?"

"Nothing special, no issues with his recovery. Dad's just been feeling it since mom left and then we moved in together," T.K. explained.

"Isn't that why Mateo moved in?" Carlos wondered, "I mean, the guy needed a place to live, I get it. But we both know Captain Strand wasn't the obvious choice."

"Yeah," T.K. said, not able to argue that fact. "But Mateo is staying with Paul for the weekend so I just want to keep my dad company."

"Hmm." Carlos audibly sighed. "Are you sure nothing happened?"

"Yes, of course," T.K. said, forcing his voice to stay calm and collected.

"Are you in the hospital?" Carlos blurted out.

"What? No!" T.K's responded, letting out a nervous exhale.

"Tyler," Carlos said in his best threatening tone.

"I promise, I'm not in the hospital," T.K. assured, pursing his lips.

"Are you in an ambulance?" Carlos asked next, wanting to cover all bases.

"I work in an ambulance," T.K. said simply.

"You know what I meant," Carlos grumbled.

"Stop worrying, Carlos. Everything's okay. Just trying to be a good son," T.K half-lied, chuckling to himself as he silently wondered what it said about him that in this situation Carlos' first thought was that he was trying to hide an injury, unlike most others who would have thought he was having an affair.

"Okay, I will see you this weekend then?" Carlos relented, but his tone letting on that he wasn't happy.

"Yeah, I will call you tonight. Love you, baby," T.K. promised, then ended the call, again, just a little too quickly.

Putting his phone back in his pocket, T.K. sighed and turned back to Nancy. "Sorry, you can keep going."

"Carlos is going to kill you when he finds out," Nancy offered helpfully, "but lucky for you, I don't think anything is broken so you won't have to go to the hospital. At least, you weren't lying about that."

"Yeah, lucky me." T.K. rolled his eyes, doing his best to suppress a grunt as Nancy prodded the area around his shoulder.

"But, on second thought... I have to pop it back in, maybe you want to go to the hospital for that?" Nancy questioned, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"You are enjoying this, aren't you?" T.K. asked with a groan.

"Maybe, a little. Not the injury, tho. I'm sorry the patient knocked you off the ladder," Nancy said sincerely, "but I'll enjoy hearing of Carlos' reaction when he finds out," she added with a grin.

"Well, too bad he won't find out," T.K. challenged, "or I'll tell Tommy that you broke her favorite coffee mug. You know, the super cute, purple one her girls got her for mother's day?" His familiar smug smirk now plastered on T.K's face.

Nancy grunted but said nothing, knowing she was beat. "Ready?" She asked instead, knowing there was no way T.K. was voluntarily going to a hospital for a dislocated shoulder.

Suddenly reminded why he was sitting at the back of their ambulance, T.K. instantly lost his smile and blanched a little. Because no matter how many injuries someone has had, popping in a dislocated anything always hurt like a bitch, especially when you couldn't take any painkillers. But still, he nodded, closing his fist around his shirt and bracing for the pain.

"I'll be quick," Nancy whispered and without warning moved her hands to either side of T.K's shoulder and yanked.

"Son of a…" T.K's yelped, his words cut short by a loud pop as his joint set back into place.

"Sorry, Strand," Nancy said, a guilty smile replacing her previous grin. "I know you won't take anything strong, but can I give you some Ibuprofen?"

T.K. just shook his head, his mouth set in a straight line as he tried to breathe through the pain.

"You're going to be sore," Nancy pushed, gazing down at T.K. with a knowing look as she maneuvered his shoulder into a sling.

"I've OTC painkillers at home, I promise I'll take some if the pain gets too bad," T.K. lied, grunting as the movement jostled his injured joint.

"You mean at Owen's house, right?" Nancy asked (not so) innocently.

"You can really be mean sometimes." T.K. pouted, trying to bite down a grin.

"You just make it too easy. But really, I know you won't take anything, so at least ice your shoulder when you get home and remember to sleep on your other side," Nancy directed, wishing she could offer her partner some relief from the pain but knowing that with T.K's history that simply wasn't an option.

"I'll be okay, Nance. Thank you for taking care of it, I'll be careful," T.K promised, then rolled his neck as he got accustomed to the feel of the sling around his arm.

"And no nighttime activities for you," Nancy said softly, looking at T.K. with a knowing smile, "but on second thought, I don't think that will be a problem now." Her grin turning into full-blown laughter.

"You only say that cause you're jealous," T.K. said, sticking his tongue out. Then jumped out of the ambulance, smiling to himself as Nancy made a face and tossed a roll of gauze at him.

As Nancy finished organizing everything in the back, T.K. sat down on the ambo's bumper and sighed, wishing he could go home to cuddle with Carlos instead of to an empty apartment. But he was tired of the trouble magnet jokes and Carlos saying he was taking years off his life, and this was too simple an injury to worry his boyfriend over. So, he would just have to suck it up.

A few minutes passed with the partners just chatting about everything and nothing as they waited for Tommy to get back after dropping their patient at the hospital.

"You okay, Strand?" Was Tommy's first question as soon as she returned to the ER's parking lot.

"I am, Nancy checked it out and we're ready to go," T.K. said and raised to his feet, trying very hard not to cry out when the movement jerked his shoulder.

"Are you sure you don't need to be looked at?" Tommy was still staring at T.K with a worried expression, even when the question was directed to his partner.

"He will be okay," Nancy explained, "nothing got broken and the joint should heal nicely after a few days of rest. Plus, T.K. is not a liar and he absolutely wasn't at the hospital today," she couldn't help add, the corner of her lip tucking upward.

"Do I even want to know?" Tommy asked no one in particular, shooting a curious look to her two, young coworkers.

"Probably not. Let's go," Nancy said with a chuckle, getting into the back of the ambulance and sitting on the bench. "You can sit at the front, Strand. Just don't go getting used to it," she added as a way of response to T.K's raised eyebrows and silent question.

"Thanks, partner," T.K acknowledged, happy with the sort of truce that he had reached with his new partner, and even more with the way that agreement was slowly evolving into a real friendship.

The ride back to the firehouse was spent in comfortable silence, all three paramedics lost in between their thoughts and the low music coming from the speakers. Tommy did her best to avoid any cracks in the pavement but still shot sympathetic glances T.K's way every time he grunted or winced.

Reaching the firehouse, T.K's ignored everyone's concerned stares and just walked quickly to the locker room. Knowing with the sling taking off his shirt would be a pain, he decided to just leave on his uniform and wait until he was home. He would want to shower and better to go through the hassle just one time.

After promising all his teammates that yes, he was okay, and yes, he would call if he needed help, and no, he didn't need a ride (especially when he was planning to go to Owen's and not Carlos'), T.K. was finally able to escape all the mother henning and quietly get into his Uber.

Going up the stairs and inside Owen's apartment was more difficult that it should have been, with T.K. dropping the keys as he tried to open the door with his non-dominant hand and as he continued to fumble with the strap of his duffel bag, which kept rolling down his shoulder. The ordeal left him winded, and with a very big desire to just face plant on the couch and sleep for the next many hours. But he had worked more than half a shift before he got hurt so he was in desperate need of a shower.

So, T.K. just dropped his keys, wallet and phone on the kitchen counter and walked to the guest room, his face losing all color as soon as his eyes landed on the figure sitting on the bed.

"Hi baby," Carlos said cheerfully, even as his eyes narrowed and his lips turned upward into an innocent smile.

Letting his bag fall to the floor with a thud, T.K. had the sudden urge to turn around and run, instead he tried to give Carlos his best apologetic grin as he looked straight into his boyfriend's eyes.

"Want a chance to explain before I start asking questions?" Carlos said, making T.K. wonder if that's how he started interrogations with the people he arrested.

"What are you doing here?" T.K. asked, ignoring Carlos' question and trying very hard not to squirm under his boyfriend's gaze.

"I asked first," Carlos said matter-of-factly.

"Long, boring story I'm sure you don't want to hear," T.K. mumbled, hoping against hope that Carlos would just let it go for now. Then he tip-toed towards Carlos and tried to wrap his arms around his boyfriend, but Carlos just jumped out of the bed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Whoa there, cowboy. Slow your roll cause you're not getting out of this so easily," Carlos quipped, a scowl now adorning his features too.

"What do you want me to say, Carlos? I got hurt at work." T.K. awkwardly raised his injured arm, trying to emphasize his point, before he dropped both shoulders dejectedly, and turned his eyes to stare at the ground.

"I think that part is obvious," Carlos simply stated, "but I'm more interested in the part where you thought it was a good idea to lie to me and hide the injury."

"I didn't lie, everything I said was technically true," T.K. tried, letting out a nervous chuckle.

"In this case, omitting the truth is the same as lying."

"I'm sorry, Carlos. I just didn't want to frighten you again. I mean, come on, we haven't even been really dating a full year and I've already been shot, kidnapped and knocked unconscious with a concussion. I know you all joke that I'm a trouble magnet, but I also know you worry. And you have enough worries at work to also lose sleep over me," T.K. rambled as he paced around the room, "besides, I don't want you realizing that I'm just too much for you," he finished barely above a whisper, sad eyes moving to Carlos' again.

Carlos remained silent for a few minutes after that, seemingly mulling over T.K's words, before his arms uncrossed and he moved towards his boyfriend, engulfing him in a quick hug before he stepped out of his space again.

"First, I'm a cop, babe, do you really think a dislocated shoulder will really scare me? You know I've seen it all, and yes, it's worse when things happen to you, but I know it's the nature of both our jobs."

"I'm sorry," T.K. whispered, cutting Carlos off and taking a tentative step forward.

"Wait, let me finish," Carlos said, raising his hands to stall T.K's movements. "I won't get mad if you get injured, but I don't like you lying to me. Or emitting truths," he amended before T.K. tried to find another loophole, because sometimes his boyfriend really took to his mother. "You once said we made a pretty good team. And you were right, and we have only gotten better with time."

"In more ways that one…" T.K. said smugly, his eyes going to Carlos' lips, and then further down.

Carlos let out an outward moan, even if he would argue it was more like an annoyed groan, as his lips parted on their own volition and he ended up having to bite down on his lower lip as he tried not to give into T.K's charm.

"Yeah," Carlos easily agreed, his deep voice sounding even huskier. "But don't go trying to distract me, you're not out of the doghouse yet. So as I was saying, I don't care about a dislocated shoulder, but…"

"Wait, how do you know about the shoulder?" T.K asked, "and how are you even here?"

"Will you stop interrupting me?" Carlos said, sounding mildly exasperated, "I called Mateo. I knew you were hiding something, and I know Marjan, Paul and Judd would have been more difficult to deal with. Mateo might be a damn good firefighter but that boy can't lie to save his life. He told me what happened, then I called Captain Stra- Owen, and turns out he thought I was working a shift tonight so that's why you were coming here."

"What have we talked about interrogating my team, Officer Reyes?" T.K. wondered out loud, wishing his boyfriend wasn't so good at his job.

"Well, I wouldn't have to if you gave me another choice," Carlos challenged, eyebrows raised. "But again, as I was saying, we're a team T.K. and I can take anything you, or life, throw our way. You might be high maintenance but you'll never be too much for me," he added, a teasing smile now gracing his lips, easing the harshness that had taken over his features.

"I'm high maintenance? I'm not the one that only eats homemade tortillas, can't get veggies that are not from the farmer's market and forces me to get up at dinner and get the salt because God forbids you handle it to me and doom our relationship forever," T.K. mumbled under his breath, the twinkle in his eye showing that his words carried no heat.

"It's not my fault that Latinos have many superstitions. Or that I need to do so much stress cooking because my stubborn and daredevil boyfriend keeps getting in trouble. Which brings me to my last point, I do lose sleep over you, T.K," Carlos began, stepping towards him and moving his hands under his shirt. "But not because I worry about you. I do, always will. But when I go to sleep, with your body next to mine, I tend to have other things in mind." Pushing, T.K. all the way back until he fell onto the bed, Carlos let his lips hover just above T.K's for a moment before he leaned forward, crashing his already parted lips into T.K's waiting ones.

The moment quickly became more heated as they deepened the once sweet kiss, both their hands now exploring every reachable part of their boyfriend's body. That is, until Carlos let too much of his weight fall onto T.K, making the man gasp and groan as his shoulder took the brunt of it.

"Too bad you're injured and I can't show you the type of things I think about," Carlos croaked, pressing a kiss just on the edge of T.K's lips, before he pushed his body away from the bed, and out of his boyfriend's reach.

"Oh come on, babe. You can tease like that and just leave me hanging," T.K. breathed out, trying to grab Carlos's shirt, but his fingers only brushing a bit of exposed skin along his hip.

"Don't pout, babe. It's not a good look on you. Plus you'll get wrinkles and I happen to love your smooth skin," Carlos said, trying to ignore the electricity coursing through his body starting from the spot T.K's fingers had touched.

Not missing the way Carlos' body just quivered, T.K looked at his boyfriend with his perfected shit-eating grin, his eyes practically undressing the other man, just as his boyfriend silently did the same.

"Lucky for you, I have other ideas to show you how being with you could never be too much. In fact, every moment we spend together is just never enough," Carlos said sweetly, like usual being the first to give in. Extending his arm to his boyfriend, Carlos pointed to the bathroom with his chin as his free hand was already removing T.K's belt and unbuttoning his pants.

"I like the sound of that," T.K. rasped out, barely able to form words. He then took Carlos' hand, letting his boyfriend pull him towards him, as his free arm reciprocated, briskly and awkwardly loosening Carlos' sweatpants, and pulling at the hem of his shirt.

"Good. The hot water will be good for your shoulder. Plus, you're still in uniform, I can only assume you didn't shower at the station. It's only natural that we do that before I get you into bed," Carlos explained simply, "so you can rest your shoulder, that is," he added, but his darkened eyes showed that right now taking care of T.K's injury was the last thing on his mind.

Brain short-circuiting, T.K. only nodded as he let Carlos remove the sling on his arm and the rest of the clothing that still got in between their desires, before he let his boyfriend lead him into the bathroom.

Later on there would be time for T.K. to continue apologizing and explain more about how he got hurt, for Carlos to take care of his shoulder and comfort his boyfriend, and for both of them to further promise that they were it for each other, that they were both in it for the long run and there was never a need to hide things because they would always be a team. But for now, all thoughts of T.K's injury and small lie were out of their minds, and Carlos and T.K. just relished the presence of the other, the feel of their bodies pressed together, as they let the steam of the shower dissolve their insecurities and fears, and just got lost in each other.

"Wait, what if my dad comes home?"

"Too bad you will have a lot of explaining to do. There's a reason I asked you to move in with me," Carlos said, finally getting his chance to be the smug one.

And whatever was said next was lost to the outside world, as the door to the bathroom slammed shut, and only T.K's groan and Carlos' laughter could be heard over the splash of the shower.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fanfiction #tk strand #carlos reyes #tarlos #bad things happen bingo #idiots in love #tarlos fanfic

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shinydelirium · 3 years ago

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MLQC Season 2 Chapter 8 (Kiro) Part 2 [Scramble] & [Bad Signs] Translation [CN]

***SPOILERS*** THIS POST CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS FOR CONTENT NOT YET RELEASED ON EN SERVER!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!***

For the previous translations of Season 2 Chapter 8: Part 1

Enjoy~

[Scramble]

Tomorrow is Kiro’s new song conference.

This will be Kiro’s first public appearance since the “black powder incident”.

There are still many things to prepare and Kiro’s plan to “disappear out of thin air” has been resolved and things are on track again.

Such an ordinary and busy life makes me feel a long-lost sense of peace.

At 7 o’clock in the evening, I opened the door of the office and put my coffee and supper for overtime work on the table, but found that everyone was gathered around watching something.

MC: What’s going on?

Kiki: A large passenger plane almost crashed.

Kiki spoke and pointed to the live video taken by a witness on the screen.

Kiki: I heard that the aircraft was affected by strong air currents which caused the aircraft’s instruments to malfunction. During landing, it almost ran off the runway. Look, it’s so thrilling!

MC: Are there any casualties?

Willow: Although it landed safely, there is probably still some psychological aftermath.

Willow: By the way, boss, didn’t you also go to the airport today? Didn’t you know how serious it was?

I took the newspaper and scanned the headlines that were in bold.

“Fright in the air—Captain Evolver turned the tide and saved 189 passengers”—Was it that serious?!

Kiki: In fact, it is also a good thing. The relationship between ordinary people and Evolvers was so tense some time ago. This news can ease the relationship.

Kiki: Oh yeah, boss, here is the venue layout for the new song conference. You can take a look.

Kiki’s words brought me back to the present, and I took the plan from her.

The company attaches great importance to this event and has specially contracted the central square with the largest traffic in the city center and selected 3000 fans to participate in this new song launch event.

The surrounding LED screens and bus stations were all taken over by Kiro advertisements and even the subway stations printed the promotion of Kiro’s new song release in advance.

MC: Our security measures must be handled well, and there must be no mistakes and follow-up propaganda must be kept up while the iron is hot.

MC: Wait a minute, what’s that webpage right there?

Kiki: Oh, this—

Willow: …Don’t look at it, boss.

I didn’t listen and grabbed the mouse and clicked on the webpage. As soon as I looked, the huge bold words caught my attention.

“Freshly released--11th Annual Lightning Protection Ranking for Media Graduate’s Employment”

Kiki: Boss, your approval rate is only 10%.

Willow: You have to add the votes cast by a few of us to switch back and forth for you.

MC: ….Why are you so concerned about such boring things!

Willow: Hehe, this is not for you to fight injustice.

Kiki: But don’t worry, as long as Kiro stands on the stage, everything will be fine. He is our ace artist.

I clicked on the comment section of “Miracle Finder” and found that there were still many insults against the show and Evolvers.

Kiki: Speaking of, there was a high school student who came to the company last week and said he was looking for the boss. His words were very intense and I didn’t know why.

Kiki: It could also be affected by recent public opinion to express dissatisfaction with our program.

Thinking of countless harassing calls, rumors from the outside world, obstacles and prejudices during the filming of “Miracle Finder”…

I couldn’t help but clench my fists. Then, my heart ignited an unprecedented fighting spirit.

MC: Alright, it’s time to kick away the negativity and theories that have accumulated before!

The cold light from above shines into the empty, confined dim space. The dark grey staircase in the middle continues to spiral up like a snake sleeping in the shadows.

??: Sir, the undercover agents F-45 and U-2 of the Task Force have died.

??: …Also, the young man said that no more medicine will be provided to us during this time. If we want to trade, we need to show greater sincerity.

Thinking of the dark gray-eyed youth, the reporting man showed fear on his face.

??: …The experimental record of the transaction at the auction is indeed fake and it appears to be bait released by B.S. itself.

The man in the wheelchair did not respond and seemed not to care about the news reported by his subordinate.

He only looked at the detailed information in his hand.

“The Inverted Smile Film and Television Company’s veteran variety show “Miracle Finder” has reached a new record. The company and the Task Force have reached a filming cooperation and the crime documentary has been a great success”…

His gaze fell on a line of words, showing a thoughtful expression.

It turns out that the producer who was taken away by the Task Force is also from B.S.

A smiled appeared on his lips and his fingers seemed to tap the handrail lightly in a steady rhythm.

??: Sir, we can’t wait any longer. The organization’s recent actions have been constrained everywhere. We must find the person behind it…..

The man in the wheelchair raised his head and looked at his subordinate gently.

??: Don’t worry, there is still plenty of time.

??: When the fish bites the hook and jumps out of the water, you will naturally see the person fishing on the other end.

??: Right now, we have found the best fish to bite the bait.

[Bad Signs]

With Kiro’s return, my work has been on the right track.

The days seem to blend together and there has been no room for breathing.

Early the next morning, I drowsily walked out the gate of the residence, ready to go to the company.

A newsstand was set up next to the entrance and several people were distributing free newspapers while saying something to the pedestrians passing by.

Enthusiastic woman: Hey, miss, come here.

MC: Ma’am, what is it?

I took the newspaper from her in wonder. My eyes quickly swept across the headlines of today’s news.

“In-depth restoration of airport accident; the flight nearly crashed due to the Captain’s Evol!?!”

I skimmed through the full article and found that today’s news’ explanation of the aviation accident was a big reversal compared to yesterday.

It turned out that the accident wasn’t caused by turbulence, but because the captain’s Evol was out-of-control.

Yesterday’s news was just to quell the recent series of press releases against Evolvers, concealing the facts.

Is that really the case….

Looking at the vicious words above, I frowned slightly.

The people handing out the newspapers yelled the truth about the media’s hidden information while continuing to distribute newspapers to passing pedestrians.

The crowd of onlookers whispered on one side and from time to time, their conversations trickled into my ears.

Passerby A: The truth about yesterday’s emergency landing accident was not what was reported on TV at all.

Passerby B: Obviously this Captain’s out-of-control Evol affected the flight and yet they said he was a hero. I think this kind of person shouldn’t be in this type of industry.

Passerby C: Yeah, Evolvers shouldn’t be engaged in this kind of business when they are responsible for public safety!

The ridicule of Evolvers and the dissatisfaction with the truth about the media hiding things continued on. Some are justified but some are just unfounded.

Hearing everyone’s increasingly violent words, my heart feels weak.

The life that has been calm for a short time seems to have caused waves again.

As soon as I got to the company, my cell phone rang and I saw it was an unfamiliar number.

MC: Hello? May I ask who’s calling?

The other end was quiet for a while, and then I heard a somewhat stiff voice.

??: Cancel today’s event or you will face the consequences.

The person on the other end deliberately lowered his voice but I could still tell that he was a young boy.

MC: Sorry, I don’t understand what you are talking about.

MC: Hello…?

He suddenly hung up.

I was confused and wanted to call back but only the sound of a dial tone was heard.

Getting all kinds of strange phone calls these days, I didn’t pay too much attention to it but I still increased security measures for the afternoon activities.

I put down my phone and looked up at the weather outside the window feeling a little disturbed.

In any case, I hope everything goes well in the afternoon.

On the empty train station platform, a staff member made an announcement, urging passengers to leave.

After confirming that no one remained, he walked out of the kiosk, put a “suspended operation” sign in front of the train and left.

In a corner where no one noticed, the elevator door slowly opened and a thin boy stepped out.

He lowered his head and walked to the car door, slightly raised his hand and the sign was pushed aside.

When he raised his hand again, the train door seemed to be torn open arbitrarily by some force.

The boy went straight in.

The quiet train suddenly rumbled and lurched forward.

-End of Part 2-

Continue to Final Part

#spoilers #mlqc #mlqc spoilers #mlqc season 2 #mlqc translations #mlqc season 2 translations #kiro #kiro spoilers #love and producer #mr love queen's choice #mr love game #koi to producer #mr love dream date #mldd #kira #zhou qiluo

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of-wrens-and-whirlwinds-blog · 4 years ago

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Cakes For All!

Commission for the spectacular @adorkable-m3 ! I added some filling because I didn’t want it to be too short, I hope you don’t mind, and I especially hope you like this! Commission info is here!

Aziraphale was having a lot of fun, but he really did miss Crowley.

It was easy enough to miracle up ingredients, and he truly needed to; his first batches of cakes, biscuits, and muffins were all disasters and took up all his flour. He used just a little bit of a miracle to make his third cake come out well, but it didn’t taste as genuine as the cakes he got from humans. So he frowned and started his next.

He wished Crowley was here to be his taste-tester. For a being who didn’t like eating, Crowley could still put any critic to shame. But Crowley was still napping. Aziraphale sighed heavily and started his next cake.

When he finished a batch of anything, if it was disgusting, he miracled it away to various farms he knew of, to be put in with the animal feed. Pigs and cows don’t care if the sponge is dry, or if the cupcakes are sloppy. If the batch was good, he miracled it to various people in the neighborhood who he knew were having trouble getting food. Surely they would appreciate something filling and wholesome, even if it was just carrot cake.

He got very invested in this hobby, even going so far as to leave off all miracles and simply hope. He tried not to have expectations. As Crowley had discovered first, expectations were almost like miracles for them. So to improve his skills organically, he must force himself to be ambivalent and let the world work.

It was so very hard, though, when he just wanted some nice eclairs for breakfast...

It was June 28th when his phone rang louder than usual. Exasperated, he snapped his fingers to put the oven and the currently-baking biscuits on hold, and left the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron fastidiously. If it was another solicitor or Shadwell or someone equally annoying…

“Hello, Mr. Fell speaking,” he said in foreboding tones when he picked up the phone.

“Hey, angel,” Crowley’s sleep-fuzzed voice said. “Is the world fixed?”

“Unfortunately, not quite,” Aziraphale replied, smiling as his spirits suddenly rose at the sound of Crowley’s voice. He decided not to tell Crowley that he was early. “There’s a lot of other things happening and it’s all quite horrendous.”

“Mmph. What’ve you been up to, baking?”

“Yes! And the odd miracle here and there. Oh, but first I must tell you about my first sponge!”

Aziraphale prattled on quite happily about his baking adventures, as Crowley made appropriate grunts and exclamations. How wonderful, to have someone to appreciate his processes.

“...And you can’t slither out of tasting my devil’s food cakes.” Aziraphale ended firmly. “I’ve been practicing just for you.”

“Oh—thanks,” Crowley replied, sounding puzzled. “When should I come over?”

“I think that’s entirely up to the authorities. But I shall continue practicing! This is a delightful hobby!”

They spoke more, but eventually Crowley declared he was going to read more about the latest scientific discoveries of space and then go back to sleep. Aziraphale sighed, but did not protest overmuch. It was to be expected, really.

The biscuits should be done by now, yes?

Adam and his friends called Aziraphale individually to thank him for the care packages that were entirely sweets, pastries, and jam, all of them sounding quite sincere. Aziraphale was rather touched by their thanks. It wasn’t too hard to put together boxes of treats for them; the hardest part was getting postage, since all the stamps he had were expired. Ah, well. He was glad they enjoyed the packages, especially when Wensleydale let slip that ever since his grades in his physics class had slipped by three points, his parents had been very cool towards him. And Adam—when he was outside of Tadfield, his influence lessened, and the perfection of the area faded; this was reflected in his parents having very tense conversations with him over Face-Time about when he was going to give up his arts degree and get a technology one.

Pepper was quite frank with Aziraphale that she enjoyed the ginger sweets, but her girlfriend had eaten them all, so if Aziraphale was planning to send more, he’d have to double the amount. Aziraphale promised solemnly to do so. Ginger biscuits would be welcome too, wouldn’t they?

Brian seemed to be very sniffly, and eventually admitted that his parents had stopped replying to his electronic mail and it was nice to receive kind words from someone other than his friends. Aziraphale immediately decided to write him a real letter instead of just a warm postcard wishing him well, and maybe bake him a lemon tart.

Anathema called him to chat about witchcraft, and casually dropped her own thanks for the breads and cookbook he’d sent to her and Newt. Newt was extremely happy to do something other than watch Netflix and read and garden, and Anathema was rather glad (meaning also extremely happy) that he wasn’t an anxious mess from being trapped inside. Baking seemed to calm him and he tended to experiment for the sake of experimentation. He’d broken three electric mixers so he’d gone back to hand-whisks and spatulas, but he was always proud to put well-made food in front of his lover.

Aziraphale knew exactly how that felt.

Slowly, Aziraphale’s baking evolved into consistently decent, and occasionally excellent. He was quite proud of himself. It was odd that he hadn’t gotten bored yet, but he didn’t mind. He tried making Russian shuba, but it wasn’t as satisfying as pastries; so he went back to his favored recipes, mostly the ancient ones that he remembered from long ago and which bits of were still surviving and archived. He even submitted careful suggestions to various scientific and historical researchers about how these recipes were made, and received many calls and letters in return about his methods and where he sourced his ingredients and what sources he was drawing from—because he made too much sense to just be making things up.

It was fun, and interesting. On the first of July, Crowley woke up fully, and complained about the continued shelter-in-place, and Aziraphale said cheerfully, “Well, if we can’t visit each other, at least let me tell you about my latest success with French pastries, especially crullers!”

#Good Omens #Aziraphale #Good Omens fic #writing commission

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honeylikewords · 5 years ago

Note

How does out Agent Jack Daniels break out of his nerves and asks his lady love on a date? Or does the natural rhythm of their relationship lead up to it? Xxx thank you :)

Aw, this is so sweet! I’m so excited to be able to answer!

I originally wrote this as a couple of headcanons that followed a general narrative arc that could encapsulate the events leading up to and evolving into his asking her out, but it ended up becoming, well, a 6+k fic-a-rooney. I hope that’s okay!

Without further ado, here we go!

I like to think that Jack’s relationship with his beloved has a long, slow-burning evolution, one that needs to unfold itself naturally and grow stronger over the course of time: as they spend time together and bond over the events that transpire around them, their relationship naturally becomes more intimate and personal. A sort of friends-to-lovers situation, but with a good, hefty dose of mutual (and oblivious) pining.

For as confident a character as he can present himself as being for his job, Jack struggles with a certain grievous anxiety around the mere idea of putting his feelings out there for her to see: what if she rejects him, and he forever mars their relationship? Or, worse yet, what if his confession makes her feel uncomfortable, as if he’s just another man making unsolicited advances on a woman who does not return his interest?

Thankfully, as time goes on and their relationship becomes built on a sturdy foundation of mutual respect and friendship, knowing more about each other, Jack begins to come out of his shell a little, finding himself more relaxed and less afraid of showing affection for her, knowing that she feels safe with him and that his friendliness won’t make her feel off-put.

One way they bond is at the many office-wide mandated functions; “synergy” events are common at the New York Statesman offices, meaning that Jack and his sweetheart end up stuck at some silly corporate event meant to create “office bonding” and “coworker camaraderie”. Neither particularly enjoy the schmaltzy, forced experiences, but they band together to form a team of two and enjoy beating other teams at the teambuilding exercises (Jack and his beloved are absolutely fantastic at charades and Pictionary) and just adore laughing together over some of the more ridiculous activities.

In fact, they owe much of their relationship’s development to these silly corporate interventions; their relationship came to full bloom thanks to one such event.

Corporate decided to send a few of the higher-ups from the Statesman distillation company and their immediate subordinates and coworkers to a ranch out in Arizona for a week-and-a-half retreat meant to “inspire teamwork” and “unification” among the workforce. Jack had absolutely no interest in “bonding” with his coworkers; he became inordinately excited, instead, by the idea of having a pseudo-vacation wherein he could show a more relaxed side of himself to the apple of his eye. He grinned as he read the email announcing the trip and saw her name CC’ed to it: she’d be going along, and he was thrilled to be by her side through the whole thing.

Jack even went out of his way to coyly probe the person coordinating the event into giving the two of them seats next to each other on the plane to Arizona (he chanted “3A and 3C, 3A and 3C” as a mantra to himself giddily over the next few days), and made a point to pack some of his finer clothes in his best luggage to show her that he was a well-dressed and sophisticated man even outside the confines of the office. He had no plans to get involved in any “teamwork”: in fact, he largely planned on slipping away from the conference itself and off into the city with his sweetheart, if he could convince her to go with him. The mere idea thrilled him beyond words: he was going to be able to spend time with her in this unbuttoned, casual setting, and, hopefully, inspire her into wanting to spend even more time with him outside the office.

When the day for the flight out to Arizona finally came, Jack was up long before he realistically needed to be; the flight was chartered explicitly for the company, so the plane wouldn’t take off until everyone had arrived, anyway, so it wasn’t like he was going to miss takeoff. But he simply couldn’t wait: he wanted to be by her side as soon as he could be.

Jack waited in the terminal for nearly two hours on his own, restlessly checking his phone to watch the minutes tick by. Other Statesman corporate workers filed in over time and waved to him, trying to initiate mindless conversation, but Jack largely looked past them and nodded along as they chatted in his general direction, his only contribution being politely humming during lulls in the banter to seem engaged as he watched the crowds milling behind them. He was waiting for her, growing antsier by the second.

After what felt like eons to Jack, she finally arrived, and he’d never felt more floored by something so simple. She entered the waiting area with her rolling suitcase, poring over her ticket intently, barely noticing where she was walking, but Jack couldn’t look away from her, even as she seemed unaware of his gaze.

He had seen her walk into rooms countless times, and while it always made his chest clench, something about the new environs, about seeing her in the real world, away from the office and out here in a space where they weren’t coworkers, just two people, free to be themselves, made the pounding in his heart even more dizzying this time around. Add to that the way she looked and he was doomed.

Jack had become accustomed to seeing her in her office attire, formal and tightly wound, the tones of her clothes muted and respectable, the cuts crisp and inorganic, and while she was beautiful in that fashion, he somehow found her even more breathtaking in her casual wear.

Her hair wasn’t in its usual taut, professional style, but in a loose gathering, a few flyaways and locks slipping down to frame her face organically. She modeled a pair of worn-in jeans and a fairly oversized sweater, the sleeves of which appeared to be too long for her and were thus rolled up to her elbows. He could spy the brown circlet of a hair tie around the graceful bend of her wrist, and found himself, for the first time in his life, envious of a ponytail holder.

Gazing up and down her form, Jack noticed a pop of red and white low to the ground; she was wearing red sneakers. He’d never seen her in sneakers before, and though they were far from traditionally elegant, he felt utterly endeared by the sight of them.

Without his focus keeping it penned in, his imagination slipped free and wrapped itself around him, conjuring for him a fantasy of her wearing such an outfit, carrying brown cardboard moving boxes into his house, her things tucked inside. He imagined her rolling up those sweater sleeves to help him paint their bedroom a new shade, one of her choosing. He saw her sitting between his knees on the couch, eating Chinese food out of the takeout box, her shoes kicked off somewhere, forgotten.

And then she looked up from her ticket and saw him, a smile spreading over her features, and everything melted inside of Jack. She raised her hand, ticket nested between her fingers, and waved at him, swiftly dragging her suitcase and suddenly standing before him, bright-eyed.

“Hey, you,” she smiled.

She was shorter without her heels on.

It filled Jack with complete adoration.

Jack beamed back, half-caught between an urgent, painful longing to hold her cheeks and kiss her as sweetly as the sun kisses her wayward hairs, and between his better senses, the ones rooting him firmly to the floor. He gave her, instead of a kiss, a polite nod of the head, paired with his gentlest gaze.

“Hello to yourself, little lady,” he replied, voice soft. “You look...”

He searched internally for the most flattering yet least objectionable or objectifying adjective he could.

“...Comfortable today.”

Immediately, some part of him balked-- he worried he’d delivered some kind of backhanded compliment, though his intentions had been entirely sincere and adoring-- but she nodded, still smiling, and kicked at the toe of her tennis shoes with demure humor.

“I am,” she said. “You know,multi-hour flight and all; I didn’t especially feel like putting on heels for TSA, either.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jack felt annoyed that she’d had to go through TSA at all; the Statesmen agents all had permission to go through without being screened, and it bothered him to imagine her being patted down by some rough-handed agent. Apparently, his displeasure manifested itself on his face, and she gave him an apologetic, sympathetic look.

“You tired?,” she asked gently, reaching out to squeeze his bicep. He pretended it didn’t send his pulse skyrocketing to feel her hand on him, even though the layer of his button-up and suitcoat. “I know, it’s rough getting up so early--”

“‘M not tired,” he quickly interjected, straightening his posture. “Not at all, darlin’.”

The word slipped off his tongue before he had a mind to catch it, but if she noticed it, she said nothing.

“Well, I am,” she said as she stretched her back, her hand leaving Jack’s arm to support her spine. Jack missed its warmth immediately. “I was up all last night, all... um... thinking about the trip.”

Her voice faded as she chewed her lip, returning to typical posture with her eyes averted; Jack knew she was withholding, dancing around something. He was getting ready to push back and ask her if there was something on her mind when she quickly turned her eyes back to him and switched her expression into a casual smile. He reeled at the hasty shift.

“Anyway,” she clipped, ready to steer the conversation elsewhere, “Where are you sitting? I’m 3A, I think.”

She held up her ticket for him to inspect, finger pointing at her seat number, and Jack couldn’t quite restrain his smile of excitement. From his pocket, he produced his own ticket, finger similarly pointing to his seat number. His beloved peered at the piece of paper held in his tanned hand for a moment, then gave him a bright smile.

“Oh, that’s so great! We’ll be in the same row!”

The moment she spoke that, though, her face fell in apparent disappointment, a little divot of frustration manifesting between her brows.

“But we’ll have someone in between us, won’t we? Someone in 3B...”

He felt his smile spread despite himself; there was something so innocent about her disappointment, something so warming to know she’d have been upset to be separated from him. Shaking his head, he held his ticket out and tapped the seat number twice.

“No, no, hon, seats at the front are in sets of two,” Jack spoke, his voice a low, comforting purr. “A and C are right next to each other. They’re just called that because they’re double-wide and reach as far as an ABC row.”

“Oh! Oh, I had no idea! I’ve, uh, never sat in the front before,” she mused, turning to look out of the vast windows of the airport at the plane they were preparing to board. “The few times I’ve flown, it’s always been, you know, in the tight seats in the back.”

“Well... you’re first-class, today, little lady,” he smiled. “Like you deserve.”

He watched her turn her gaze back to him with bated breath; had he gone a little too far? He scanned her face, but registered no malice, no discomfort: she actually looked sweetly sheepish, a flighty smile making her turn her eyes down towards the carpet. The shyness of it all made Jack ache to take her face in his hands and kiss her, kiss her until she was dizzy. But he abstained, merely squeezing the handle of his luggage a little tighter in absentia of her touch.

“This will...,” she began, trailing off with a distant look, her attention once more turned window-ward. “You’ve flown a lot, right, Jack?”

“Mhm, I have,” he replied. “Why?”

“It’s... it’s always gone fine, right?”

When she turned her eyes back towards him, Jack caught a glimpse of concern within them, a flash of fear.

Something was weighing on her, and Jack was beginning to get worried himself.

Before he could open his mouth and continue, the boarding call sounded. The first-class passengers were invited to board, and Jack and his dearest exchanged quick, conspiratory looks. She gave him a brief smile accompanied by a slight shrug, walking towards the forming line slowly, their prior conversation now dust in the wind. Jack found himself painfully tempted to slip a hand around hers as they walked towards the boarding gate, called to comfort her. He, tragically, did not take her hand.

As they lined up and boarded, Jack allowed her to step in front of him; it was only gentlemanly, after all, to let the lady go first. She acknowledged his gesture by reaching out and touching his wrist appreciatively, her fingertips alighting on bare skin in a way that made Jack’s stomach twist longingly. They were scanned in and boarded the plane, Jack following her along the hallway and up into the plane, his eyes fixed on the bob and sway of her hair, the shift of her gait now that she wasn’t walking in her office heels. He wondered what she was thinking about.

When she crossed the threshold into the plane, she turned to glance over her shoulder, meeting eyes with Jack. His stomach churned as he fretted, wondering if she knew he had been staring. If she had, nothing was made of it; instead, she attempted to hike her suitcase up into the plane, but began struggling with its unwieldy shape and weight, tumbling back slightly. Jack quickly rushed forward to take the handle from her, balancing her with one hand behind her back, clutching his own suitcase, and the other wrapped around her hand on her suitcase’s handle.

Their hands brushed and parted as Jack lifted the suitcase with a strong arm, and he felt a swell of confidence as he carried both his luggage and hers on his own into the plane, even as she quietly tried to give polite protest.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she murmured, following behind him as he stepped forward to push their bags into the overhead compartment. “I-I could have managed.”

“Aw, but it wouldn’t be very polite to let a little lady have to do that,” he replied, making sure to keep his focus on situating the bags in the overhead instead of allowing himself to look at her. “I’d have felt guilty.”

“Well, thank you, Jack.”

His name never sounded so perfect as when she uttered it, and a small tremor surged down his back as he closed the now-full compartment with a satisfying click.

When he lowered his arms and allowed his gaze to return to her, he saw her still standing there. Jack smiled; ever the polite lady, she didn’t want to sit while he was trying to help her. To signify his resolve, he put a hand out and gestured to her seat, silently inviting her to step into the window seat before he took his own next to her.

She nodded and gave him a grateful smile, slipping into the wide first-class seat with a sigh of amazement. She shifted in the seat to admire its spaciousness and amenities, stretching her legs out to their full length and still not touching the seat in front of her. Jack sat down next to her and watched her marvel at the luxury of first-class with a smile; he’d flown first-class many times before and had grown rather accustomed to it, but, through her eyes, was now being exposed to the excitement of it once again.

The footrest of her seat extended out and she made a thrilled giggle, patting Jack’s thigh ecstatically.

“Look!”

“I am looking!,” he chuckled back, putting his elbow on the armrest between their chairs and cupping his chin in his palm, watching her. “You look cozy. Fit right in here, don’tcha?”

“I mean, hardly,” she replied, looking at the panel of buttons on her armrest. She fiddled with a few. “But it’s nice to be able to check this off the ol’ bucket list. Sit in first-class at least once!”

Jack internally logged to himself that if he were ever lucky enough to be able to take her on vacations, he’d make sure to always take her first-class. His imagination, rebellious, summoned a word to the front of his mind; honeymoon. At the thought, his golden cheeks warmed and he turned his eyes away, shifting to sit back in his seat as the last few stragglers headed down the aisle towards their seats, and the flight attendants began their practiced performances.

After a few moments of standard safety announcements and a brief introduction from the captain, the plane began to taxi on the runway, its engines spurring to life with an Olympian rumble. Jack hardly paid it any mind-- he was intimately familiar with the sound of jets, having flown more than a few himself-- but instead looked at his seat partner, who was beginning to curl into her chair, her body bunching up.

He squinted his dark eyes beneath furrowed brows, watching her with growing concern; as the plane began to move faster and rumble louder, her shoulders clenched in on themselves, one hand gripping the armrest nearest him with vicelike strength, the other clutching panickedly at her own chest.

Jack immediately recognized the situation at hand and leaned over to her, his urge to protect far overwhelming any anxiety he harbored about expressing his care for her too intimately. It made him sick to his stomach to see her joy fade so abruptly, and worse yet to see her in such a fearful state; his heart felt bruised, pressed under the weight of her pain, and sinched by his own stupidity. How could he not have pieced it together before?

Without regard for anything but her immediate comfort and safety, Jack placed his larger hand atop hers on the armrest and squeezed softly, murmuring in her ear in his most relaxing, gentle voice.

“You okay there, sweetness?”

“Mm!,” she squeaked unconvincingly.

“...You don’t like flying, right? ‘S okay, dove. ‘S alright, you can tell me.”

She, for a moment, tried to put on a happy, brave face, flashing him an unconvincing smile as she stared fretfully all around the cabin, hearing the plastic casings around the luggage compartments shake against themselves. When a particularly strong burst of jet engine rumblings shook the walls of the cabin, her smile dropped and she let out a meager yelp, turning her anxious eyes back to Jack’s unfaltering gaze.

“I... I really don’t,” she said thinly, her voice wavering as the plane began to rattle as it built up speed for the ascent. Her eyes flickered between his face and the window, spinning wildly as she tried to assess her surroundings. “I hate the noise and I don’t like the shaking and I’m scared of heights and I’m so sorry, this is so embarrassing--”

“It’s alright, honey, it’s all gonna be okay. I’m here.”

Jack laced his fingers with her, allowing himself to admire the softness of her palm, the warmth of the back of her hand; he did not, however, let his desire stop him from staying in the moment, present-minded and intent on comforting her. He rubbed a large thumb in tender strokes across the hills of her tense knuckles, shushing her gingerly.

“What would help you right now, little lady?,” he whispered, lips close to her ear to keep their conversation confidential. “What can I do for you?”

Before she could answer, the plane began to rush forward, the speed pushing back against Jack’s chest. This plane was notably faster than most standard commercial jets, and he could feel an immediate difference; Jack knew that if it was a surprising sensation for him, it must have been terrifying for her. As the pressure built in the cabin, she let out a nervous gasp, and Jack leaned in closer across the armrest, pressing his forehead to hers. Pride be damned, he thought: she needed someone to be her side. He looked into her eyes, calm and steadfast, as she drew shallow, anxious breaths.

“It’s alright,” he cooed, pulsing her hand. “I’m right here, and nothing bad is going to happen to you so long as I am.”

“You’re here,” she repeated softly. “You promise everything will be okay?”

“I promise you,” he said once more. “If anything happens, I’ll be here to help you. But nothing will happen; I’ve flown thousands of times, and flights like these are so safe. You’ll be alright, sweet thing.”

The plane trembled as it tucked its wheels up and began its ascent, shivering through the air to try and attain altitude. Beside Jack, his beloved transferred her grip from her chest to his forearm, digging her nails into his suit as she squeezed him tighter and tighter. He felt no pain as she sank her nails in-- he’d endured far worse-- and merely brought his other hand up to stroke at her clenching fingers affectionately, whispering little susurruses of care. She pressed her forehead flush against his as the plane quivered, a thunderous roar issuing from the engines, and Jack whispered to her as best he could over the tumult.

“I’m here,” he chanted, “I’m here, it’s all okay.”

He kneaded her hand in his grasp, massaging the straining muscles and tendons within, his eyes focused on hers; they were screwed shut, tension contorting her features. Jack’s heart grew heavy at the sight, but that selfsame weight only served to strengthen his resolve to help her. He had to get over himself if he wanted to ever be able to do anything for her, he realized.

“You know what?,” he said softly, a playful, comforting smile on his lips. She opened her eyes to look at him and he nudged her forehead with his, toying and friendly. “How about I tell you what we’ll do when we touch down? Will that take your mind off it, sunshine?”

She searched his face, then nodded softly, giving a nervous jolt as the plane tilted back harshly to properly ascend. Jack reached one hand out and rubbed at the gap between her shoulders, pressing against a knot of aching muscle in her back with a loving hand.

“Well, when we get there,” he began, “I’ll get you right out of that airport. We’ll go rent a car, drive off. No more planes. It’ll be morning there, and we’ll go to some little diner and get pancakes. Just how you like them.”

He used the arm around her back to squeeze her tightly, a half-hug as she leaned closer to him, body slanted across the armrest that divided their seats. Her breaths were coming a little more deeply, and the sight of her muscles unclenching comforted him. Taking these signs as an indication to carry on, Jack continued, still rubbing at the line of her spine along her back as he murmured to her.

“And we’ll just drive, take a look at the town. I bet the mountains will be beautiful, all full of snow; we’ll go anywhere you want, anywhere you’re curious about. And we can just stay out, all day, if you like. We’ll get dinner somewhere fancy.”

“Dressed like this?,” she breathed, half-playful and half-anxious, distracting herself with an airy chuckle. “I don’t think they’d let me in anywhere. You? You look perfect, but me? Not a chance.”

“You look beautiful.”

Jack’s words passed his lips before he could consider anything about them, and he pressed on, ignoring his urge to second-guess himself and overthink. He had to get over himself if he wanted to ever be able to do anything for her, he repeated internally.

“And if they won’t let you in, I’ll... I’ll make ‘em,” he grumbled. “I’ll make ‘em let us in. Or I’ll buy you the prettiest new things in all of Arizona, and they’ll have to let us in.”

She giggled plaintively against his cheek, eyes closed, and shook her head minutely, squeezing his palm.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I will,” he rebutted, indignant at the imaginary slight of the hypothetical waitstaff at this dreamed-up restaurant. “And they’ll have to shut their mouths then, won’t they, darlin’?”

“Hush,” she mumbled. “It’s no big deal. We don’t have to go anywhere fancy.”

The plane’s pressure began to level out, but Jack did not let up. He felt so comfortable, so whole, so right, holding her there; he knew this gesture was not just for her consolement. It was for his own, as well: a comfort to the ache of her absence, a salve to the wound of his failed courage.

A silence grew between them as Jack entangled himself in his thoughts; he mired himself in thinking about all the lost chances, all the times he’d deferred to non-action out of embarrassment and shyness and shame, and how he still labored under the conviction that there was no way for her to feel for him the way he felt for her.

Surely, he thought, this was what hell was like: being close enough to hold her, touch her, feel her warmth, yet held apart by the inability to tell her the nature of his heart, separated by the barrier of an unintimate relationship.

And, more literally, by the barrier of the armrest.

“Jack?”

Her voice broke his trance and he blinked, refocusing his eyes on her face. She had opened her own eyes and was gazing back at him, tentative but intent.

“Jack... when we get there... let’s do all that,” she spoke. “But, at the end, how about we just do dinner and a movie?”

His stomach leapt, heart racquetballing around his chest wildly. Before he could even begin to process this new development, she carried on, raising one hand to brush lightly at the shoulder of his suitcoat, her eyes fixed on her hand to avoid the intensity of his face. Jack felt pained; how could she touch him like this, as if she didn’t know what it did to his poor heart?

“It doesn’t have to be anywhere ritzy,” she murmured, picking at a little wayward lint particle on his suit. “I just... would like to, um, be with you. On our own. I think it’d be nice, you know, to have some time to... calm down, right? And be with someone I like?”

Her voice took on an edge of anxious over-explanation as she fiddled with the seam along the edge of his shoulder, and Jack’s hand rose to capture hers, stilling the motion. Both scarcely breathed, barely moved, as he brought her hand back down and held it between them, his thumb following the lines of her fingers delicately.

“I-It doesn’t have to be a date,” she said distantly. “If you don’t want it to be.”

“And if I do?”

Somewhere in the back of his head, Jack barely registered the voice speaking as his own. Whose courage had manifested that? Surely not his own?

But she shuffled closer, somehow, inching her nose against his cheek nervously, and put their held hands together against her chest, where he could feel the softness of her sweater, her breaths rising and falling against his knuckles.

“Then... it can be a date.”

“Well, then.”

Jack leaned back, sitting up straight. She seemed confused, her brow twisting to express her uncertainty. Why was he pulling away? Jack soothed her with a quick flash of a smile, and knew how odd he must have seemed to her, his demeanor so abruptly recalibrated.

But something inside him had changed at those words-- “it can be a date” rang in his head like tinnitus, shaking him down to his very core, trembling every tendon and vibrating every vertebra-- and brought out the best in him; the confident, comfortable Jack surfaced from beneath his sea of fear with a gasp, a breath, a grin.

He took his hand back from her momentarily, straightened his tie, and smiled at her, his face practically glowing golden with all the joy and excitement and disbelief bubbling out of him.

How could this be?, he wondered to himself. How could everything feel so different, and yet, be no different at all? How could he feel so at home, so equanimous and yet so exhilarated? Jack inhaled a steadying breath, calming his thoughts, then carried on.

He slipped his large hand around one of hers, lifting it to his lips and kissing her knuckles-- an indulgence he’d never allowed himself before, but savored, relished, adored-- before humming gently, and holding her hand in the air between them, like a gentleman asking a lady for a dance at the cotillion.

“I’d be ever so honored,” he murmured, rubbing the little hillock of her wrist affectionately, “If you would accompany this poor ol’ loverboy to dinner tonight.”

Unwilling to deny himself even one more moment of tenderness, lest his opportunity be fleeting and quickly vanish, Jack again kissed her hand; he wondered if she could feel the depth of his devotion through that kiss, the unspoken promise that this was no minor tryst to him, no passing rendezvous, but the beginning of something much more, something he intended to make last, forever and always, if he were so permitted.

“Oh, and a movie,” he added, remembering himself. “Dinner and a movie for my girl.”

My girl. The title floated in the air between them, hesitant, but when she smiled at the sound of it, nodding enthusiastically and squeezing his hands with her own, giddy and giggling and beaming so brightly that Jack thought he’d go blind, he felt, at last, relieved. For the first time in what felt like years, Jack breathed a breath of complete and utter relief; she wanted him. The millstone of anxiety had lifted from around his neck: she wanted to be with him.

“Yes, Jack,” she replied, “I’d be very honored, myself, to accompany you.”

Jack found himself utterly speechless; he managed only a disbelieving, thrilled gasp of a sigh, shaking his head as if he thought that the fog would lift and this dream would fade, since it surely could not have been real... and yet, it was. She did not fade.

The two settled into a blissful quiet, watching each other with intoxicated, lovesick, finally-validated expressions; a silent gratitude filled the space around them, shimmering with loving incandescence, and a promise that soon, when finally alone and in the privacy necessary for it, they’d confess how long they’d each been mutually mooning over the other.

Suddenly, the plane bucked, hitting a patch of turbulence, and Jack tensed: was she going to panic? Was she alright? He reached out, hoping to take hold of her and keep her grounded and comforted, but instead of whimpering, instead of clutching, instead of shrinking, his beloved did something entirely unexpected; the woman at his side laughed briefly, high and clear as the single knell of a bell: the kind of laugh one lets out after bumping into someone, almost self-deprecating and relieved. She held his hand and squeezed tight, as she laughed, then met his eyes as she settled, smiling apologetically.

“I’m sorry,” she explained sheepishly. “I just... with everything, um, between us--” --she gestured a finger back and forth between their chests, giggling slightly-- “--I’d actually completely forgotten we were on a plane.”

Jack couldn’t help himself; he, too, laughed that same self-deprecating, relieved laugh, sighing contentedly.

“Then I guess I did my job, didn’t I, sugar?,” he chuckled, taking her chin in his hand.

He hesitated for a moment, hovering a few inches away from her face as he carefully chose his next words. He made direct, sustained eye contact with her asked his question in a low, soft, serious tone.

“Is it alright if I kiss your cheek?”

After a heartbeat, her expression broke into a wide beam, her eyes lighting with warmth.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Thank you for asking.”

Jack returned her smile, the two of them glowing with an almost phosphorescent affection, and leaned in to gingerly press his lips against the yielding warmth of her cheek. He allowed himself to pause, to drift against her skin for just a breath longer than might have been traditional for a first gesture of intimacy, to luxuriate in the bliss of kissing her, however chastely.

As he pulled back, his hand remained against her chin, keeping her gaze focused on his own, and he could see, clear as day, how flustered and giddy she was at the touch of his lips. Between them, the invisible flower of a promise bloomed: there’d be more kisses to come. That much was certain.

Jack opened his mouth, but a voice from behind overtook him.

“Sir?”

A flight attendant wheeling a large metal cart lined with cups and coffee canteens and cola cans smiled down at the spellbound couple politely, and Jack felt his ears and cheeks flush with red-hot embarrassment. He’d entirely forgotten he was in a somewhat public space; the kiss had wiped his head of any thoughts other than, well, of her.

“Can I get you and your wife anything?,” the attendant asked, tone chipper and genial. She seemed to have no idea what she’d done.

Poor Jack’s heart raced with thrill and fantasy and desire and adoration, a giant smile bursting across his face. Your wife, his mind cheered. Your wife! He refused, entirely, to correct the attendant, and instead looked over at his beloved, beaming like a puppy.

“Can I get you anything, lovebug?,” he asked, lilting and loving and lyrical.

He appreciated the way his darling’s cheeks rose in her own coy smile, but appreciated more that she, also, did not correct the attendant. As she silently shook her head to indicate that she needed nothing, his chest swelled with pride and pleasure; no correction came at all. He turned back to the attendant and cordially shook his own head, still grinning from ear to ear.

“I’ll come get you if the missus or I need anything.” He sat up a little straighter at the use of the word ‘missus’. “Thank you.”

As the attendant rolled on, the lovers looked back at each other, but said nothing of what had transpired. Instead, she laid her head on his shoulder and let out a contented giggle of a sigh, easing into him.

“We still have--” --she reached over and, playfully, tugged down the sleeve of Jack’s shirt and suit coat, revealing his watch-- “--about four hours of flight left, you know.”

“Mm,” he hummed in agreement. “And what would you wanna do to fill those four hours, little missus?”

She glanced up at him as he toyed the nickname, smiling with abject affection. Patting his wrist before gently rubbing her fingers up and down the inner, sensitive skin, she chewed her lip in contemplation. Jack watched her, envious that it was not his teeth plumbing the fullness of her lips, tugging so deliciously.

“I think we should get comfy,” she spoke after a moment, “Snuggle up and watch something.”

One of her graceful hands moved forward to tap at the interactive screens built in front of their seats, pulling up a selection of films and television for their perusal. She flicked through the collections page by page, then gestured widely at the screen.

“You pick, Mister!,” she offered, squeezing his wrist. “I wanna see what kind of movies you like.”

Jack smiled down at her as she nudged into his shoulder, cheek squished against his jacket; she looked just as he’d dreamed she would, there, at his side. He leaned a little forward to squint at the screen and flip through the available films, largely disinterested in many of the new releases.

He scrolled until he found a selection of older films, then tapped.

“Sabrina?,” she mused. “I never expected you to be the Hepburn type!”

“Oh, well,” Jack stumbled, a little shy, “If you don’t like it--”

“No, honey, I do!”

Honey.

His knees felt like the word, gooey and molten and warmed. A saccharine grin lingered on his features as the film began, the two of them settling into their seats and into each other, making micro-adjustments to be as near one another as could be.

As the black and white Paramount logo was overtaken by the names of Bogart and Hepburn and Holden, Jack looked down at the woman on his arm, lost, for a moment, in the depth of his admiration for her. His heart felt as if it had entirely left his body, as if his spirit were high above even the cruising altitude of the plane, and yet he was aware of every tiny physical sensation, every brush of her fingers, every whisper of her breath.

He knew, then and there, early as it was, that he was entirely, achingly, irremediably in love with her.

He’d known for a long time, somewhere in the back of his mind, but had never allowed himself to name it, give it credence, give it power through internal confession. He’d imagined it would have to wither and die inside himself, unspoken and unrequited. But now, with her against him, he could allow himself to know it: he loved her. He would continue to love her.

She blinked and looked up at him inquisitively, having noticed he wasn’t watching the film. She caught his eye, breaking his stare, and smiled, eyes crinkling with mirth.

He nearly burst with love.

And now, many days and weeks and months and kisses and dinners and evenings together and external confessions of love and milestones and anniversaries and moving in together and a ring later, he considers that very morning, on that very plane, leaned against each other across the armrests of their seats and watching their movie on that very small screen, their very first date.

#messages #original #anonymous #jack daniels #agent whiskey #gif warning #kingsman #i CANNOT BELIEVE I TOOK SO LONG WRITING THIS JESUS CHRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIST #anyway!!!!!!!!! enjoy i finally wrote something and it's like... 6.3 k or something? for no good reason??

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mysterylover123 · 6 years ago

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My 12 Favorite BKDK Meta Posts

by mysterylover123

So you might have picked up, if you’re following my posts, that I like BKDK. Katsudeku. Bakudeku. Izukatsu. Whatever you call it. Shipping Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugo. I love this freaking pairing so much, but it’s always difficult to explain to people why that is. That’s why I often will point to meta, written by far more eloquent and organized people than me, to explain what about it interests me so much. So here’s a list (not comprehensive, I can’t read every BKDK meta ever written) of my favorite meta on the two’s relationship, and a shout out to my other lovely tumblr posters, organized in order of when the incident they’re covering takes place, how many spoilers there are, etc.

1. Ryokure “Deku vs Kacchan”

https://ryokure.tumblr.com/post/147489960804/deku-vs-kacchan

Ryokure is one of my favorite BKDK meta writers - great at correcting some of the early mistranslations and analyzing most of the early arcs. The Ryokure meta only go up to about the training camp arc, and for some reason stopped after that. I picked this one as my favorite Ryokure BKDK meta, it’s a rare one that covers the Battle Trial Arc. My favorite line from the meta is the ending: “On this point I’m like 80% sure that Mineta’s existence, Yaoyorozu‘s stupid costume (come on, she’s fifteen! it’s too early to be objectified!), etc are there so people wouldn’t think that this is shounen-ai.”

2. PunkBakugo: “Deku and Bakugo’s subconscious understanding: A Sports Festival Analysis”

https://punkbakugo.tumblr.com/post/169830270570/kacchan-dekus-subconscious-understanding-a

I’m currently rewatching the sports festival right now, and despite this being the big Tododeku and Izuocha arc, it’s pretty impressive how subtly pervasive BKDK still is in this arc anyways. This meta is very impressive, pointing out small details throughout the SF arc that showcase how central BKDK still is to the narrative, the ways in which Deku takes inspiration from BK, how BK fixates on Midoriya, and how they think in similar manners. It’s also quite well-written, and I recommend this poster if you’d like the POV of a non multi-shipper tumblr.

3. The-nysh “Episode 37 Commentary”

https://the-nysh.tumblr.com/post/165680156361/bnha-episode-37-commentary

The-nysh is another great BKDK poster, and I have at least 2 from them. The first is their very in-depth and image-heavy commentary on Episode 37 (they have another one on episode 61 that’s just as good), which provides some nice analysis of BKDK in this arc. The second is this one: https://the-nysh.tumblr.com/post/171252060116/whats-your-opinon-of-kiribaku-and-tododeku , which while it’s mostly about the poster’s opinions on the other two ships, has a few choice snippets about BKDK that I find helpful - one is also in connection with Ryokure, to quote: “Deku is such a super special case that if a fanfic has him and Kacchan in it - no matter the parings - and they don’t have some case of mutual obsession, I actually consider that OOC.” Definitely another good meta writer worth checking out.

4. Osakakitty “Vol 10 Katsudeku thoughts ramblings”

https://osakakitty.tumblr.com/post/167402985369/vol-10-katsudeku-thoughtsramblings

This one is a good analysis of the Training Camp Arc and Hideout Raid. Osakakitty has some very sweet BKDK meta and generally writes very close analysis of them, taking a more emotional stance on the pairing than some of the meta before. There’s a very raw quality to these, a feeling of reacting in time to the story as it unfolds and getting your heart broken. This one does a good job of outlining how deeply personal the Hideout Raid is to Deku, because it was Kacchan who was taken. Definitely worth a read.

5. KiraElric’sInsanity: “What is your favorite Headcanon about Izuku”

http://kiraelric.tumblr.com/post/154543674203/what-is-your-favorite-headcanon-about-izuku

KiraElric was one of the first meta writers I encountered with BNHA, and really helped me get a grasp on the series. She has tons of great meta on the series and a really fine grasp of BKG’s character. There are lots of them worth reading, but this is one of my all time favorites because of how thoroughly in depth it is about Izuku’s feelings on the matter. Since Deku is unquestionably my favorite BNHA character, it was very important for me early on to determine who I shipped him with, how I perceived his relationships. And something about this meta helped me understand exactly why I liked BKDK so much. But if you want more of the other side of things...

6. KiraElric’sInsanity: “My Best Friend’s a Fxcking Nerd and an idiot God he pisses me Off”

http://kiraelric.tumblr.com/post/158423114578/my-best-friends-a-fucking-nerd-and-an-idiot-god

This is BKG’s side of the coin. This meta helps contextualize a lot of BKG’s actions, in a way that made a ton of sense to me. This, and the one before it, both contain spoilers up to DVK2, so if you haven’t caught up just be aware of that. This meta does a great job of spotlighting how important Deku is as a force in BKG’s life, as someone to talk to and admit to feeling weak around, who cares about him unconditionally. These two meta together are great to read for getting an all around feel for each side of the relationship.

7. KrisPNatz “What’s in an OTP? Bakudeku”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ay8TbIzMh-E

OK this one’s a video, not a tumblr meta, but it’s still an analysis on the relationship so I count it. It’s more of a funny one, joking and goofy in tone, but with a very sincere and passionate discussion of the relationship, what it means to ship something, how their interactions have evolved over time, and why the creator of the vid ships them. This one’s less analytical than the others, but still has some good insights into the duo.

8. Makeste reads BNHA: “Chapter 120 A Secret Among Three”

https://makeste.tumblr.com/post/181564960173/bnha-chapter-120-a-secret-among-three

Makeste is my favorite BNHA liveblogger, going over the entire manga (she just posted Chapter 221 today, it’s pretty great). This is her reaction to Chapter 120, which she proclaims right away is her favorite chapter of the series. While it’s mostly a reaction post, it’s also interrupted with a few mini-essay meta on the nature of this relationship, going into some deep analysis of both characters’ feelings from a very attentive and clever reactor, whose absolute favorite character is Katsuki Bakugo. I recommend makeste to BNHA fans, the reactions are absolutely fantastic.

9. CuteIzuku “Izuku Midoriya’s Image of Victory”

https://cuteizuku.tumblr.com/post/178341507379/izuku-midoriyas-image-of-victory

This is a good meta on Deku’s classic “image of victory” comment from DVK2, going into some more depth about how Deku perceives Kacchan and what that means for the narrative. It also helps compare Deku’s perceptions of Katsuki and All Might, how Deku feels towards both, and what the differences are. It’s a nicely written piece and not particularly biased about the ship.

10. Mujoe-girl “The Way They Look at each other

https://mujoe-girl.tumblr.com/post/148453703491/katsudeku-the-way-they-look-at-each-other

Another one that looks at both sides of the equation, parcelling out first how Deku looks at Kacchan, then how Kacchan looks at Deku, and acknowledging both sides and how they’ve changed over time. It’s pretty subtle and touches on various extreme expressions (one of my favorite things about BNHA: how expressive the characters are) from each character and what they mean. Certainly worth a read.

11. Riruru “The Choice of Wording Here”

https://rirururu.tumblr.com/post/181106272152/the-choice-of-wording-used-here-is-something-that

OK, this one is getting into really recent manga spoilers - avoid looking over this, anime onlys. Basically this is a brief, but effective meta about Chapter 210, written after 210 came out and before the reveal about OFA. It talks about Deku’s reaction to Monoma’s dissing Kacchan, and puts it quite well exactly why this is significant to their relationship. This is a really recent development, and something that went over my head the first time I read it - certainly helped me understand more what’s going on here.

12. Makeste “The New BKDK Status Quo”

https://makeste.tumblr.com/post/184123732903/yes-the-new-bakudeku-status-quo-of-excitedly

Another one from makeste to finish us off - this one discussing the current status of BK/DK in the manga, up through Chapter 217. So again massive spoilers. Makeste, responding to a comment, talks about how the relationship is so much healthier these days, how the two have improved and how much better a friend BKG is to Deku now, post DVK2. It’s very sweet and a lovely place to end things off for now.

So yeah those are my 12 favorite BKDK meta out there so far. Any recommendations for more are welcome. I hope you guys enjoy reading these, and special nod to all my fellow posters for being so clever.

#my hero academia #my hero academia meta #bnha meta #bakudeku #katsudeku #izukatsu #bkdk #bkdk meta #katsudeku meta #bakudeku meta #tumblr meta #otp #ship post

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thefreshfinds · 5 years ago

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THE RAW SHOWCASE

By: Natalee Gilbert

The RAW Showcase lived up to its name. Like its tagline states, everybody came to vibe. From a mile radius, friendships were formed, people were singing from the top of their lungs (the old and new bops), and everyone was anticipating to see the “R.eal A.uthentic W.itty” artists do their thing. Those who stepped onstage were S.B, Bindi Liebowitz, Sunliight, Kory Hiii, and Zeke Marlee (who, unfortunately, I missed speaking to.) The show was ran by Vision Society, Najee Lucky and J. Shider. Stepping into the atmosphere, I felt genuine connections. The lighting made the room setting intimate and many were allowed to interact with the artist performing. Those onstage shared common ground. All considered theirselves artist and had an undying passion for music. Their music stood for something, held a message and didn’t lead way to gate-drugs or violence. Some spoke on a personal level, dashing some relatability when telling what they’ve seen or heard. Overrall, everyone came from a good place. One of understanding. The music left others feeling good and at peace. The RAW Showcase came in with the new and left worries at the door. Everyone was having a good time.

S.B:

Every track from S.B doesn’t sound the same. Granted that his sound is constantly evolving, the artist makes music for any vibe, whether it be one that’s happy, confrontational, sad or nonchalant. One thing never changes, however. No matter where S.B steps foot, he happens to garner a new fan. S.B ultimately fits the depiction of a music vet. He’s got the suave stage presence down pat, and lyricism just comes easy. There’s no way to put him in a box. He’s multi-dimensional, to say the least. Since youth, S.B was one with music. At six, he learned how to play the sax and shortly after, S.B taught himself how to play the piano. Eventually, S.B began writing music. Then, everything accumulated. To date S.B has released 6 bangers. His recent, “Didn’t They” comes with gully, slick-mouthed bars that aren’t afraid to leave you with a black eye. “Fire Emoji,” on the other hand, comes with the Jersey talk. Once the alarm blares, S.B says he’s representing Garden State, but addressing the differences between himself and others. Spread over the aggressive back-drop, listeners get an earful of punchlines and entendres, that only bite back through the speakers. His feature, D.N.A matches the energy and comes hard like the natural vet, making sure that each line is not misunderstood. All-in-all both showed that nothing in life should be a gimmick. Be real. His discography also includes his enticing, fun, jungle-fever banger “Finna Get Naughty,” smooth cruising “Fly First Class,” “No Adderralls,” and highly acclaimed, “2 P.M” ft. Ziggy Zombie, This song was the most challenging because it took 2 weeks to figure out the chorus. But after that everything came easy. His word of advice for the upcoming artist and world is to keep growing. Don’t be scared to be different.

Instagram: @remembersb

Spotify:

KORY HIII:

Once Kory Hiii stepped in, the crowds got hyped up. His commanding stage presence came at attention spans with no delay. As Hiii’s words spluttered across the echoey room, it bounced back with an aggressive tone. People were feeling what he was saying. What he said held truth and it’s safe to say the crowd thought so too. Over time, Hii’s lyrics were being chanted back at him. There was even one moment when the crowd became a unit. However, this can be symbolic for many reasons. While interviewing the Union native, I came to know a line that spoke volumes, “I feel like planting the seeds and waiting for harvest/What you expect? I came from the Garden.” which essentially stands for Hiii’s city and state. The Garden, being New Jersey and the rest, “I feel like planting the seeds and waiting for harvest” being Union. Union’s mascot just so happens to be The Farmers. From just this proverb, one can see that unification is one of Hiii’s values.

Hiii considers himself a musician but moreso an artist. His music journey started with his cousin, 2 Honest, whose been rapping since he was young. 2 Honest always tried to push Hiii to rap, but he was playing basketball at the time. However, as Hiii got older and basketball was no longer a reality, he started rapping with his homies. That led to being put into his first song. Eventually, Hiii went on to work with his cousin and landed into Morgan State. Alone with a MacBook, Hiii started making music and getting more into it. Then the rest is history. Before he gets in the booth, he prays and also does so when going onstage. However, the rapper puts God before everything. His sound is nothing but organic. Hiii says he wants people to gain awareness. The message behind his sound is positivity and consciousness. In our interview, he goes to say “I’m just trying to get my sound right.” If you haven’t already bump his song, “The Get Back” everywhere! This song falls a tribute to Hiii’s grandmother and I can vouch for its star-power. Truly, a banger for the books. Hiii’s visual for “The Get Back” also made its way to World Star earlier this month, garnering traction from everyone riding through the city. Hiii also has a project out called Revenge of the Soular Sun.

Instagram: @koryhiii

Spotify:

Bindi Liebowitz:

A woman who can get pass you (especially if you don’t act right), Bindi Liebowitz is a female phenomenon full of charisma, wit and sultry energy. From the beginning of her performance, many listeners broke a sweat. Her stage presence, made jaws drop to the floor. Swaying in with high-knee boots and smokey black eyeshadow, Bindi sung soulfully and tapped into a confidence that made hearts flutter. The topic at hand was love and Bindi did diligence and giving each song a feeling. No denying it, Bindi basked in star-power. The singer/songwriter knew she loved singing since she was 6 or 8 years old. One day she was singing Aretha Franklin’s “Chain Of Fools” for her mother in the car. Once she finished, her mother caught the groove and said “Um, what? Girl, sing it again,” Then, with a vocal snap, Bindi went into a raspy, deep, soulful note range. However, Bindi didn’t know it was a talent. Naturally she felt the words and it was just a skill she mastered well. Bindi loved being onstage. This passion led her to NJPAC at 13 years old. Here, she took vocal lessons and began reading music, etc. Bindi was so into music that she even played the violin and joined chorus’. But she didn’t take it seriously until high school, “From choir, I began auditioning for the shows like American Idol and X Factor.” In 2014-2015, Bindi make her mark on American Idol. One year later, Bindi was on The Voice (Season 11), moving those across the nation. Now, Bindi continues to prosper in performing. No matter the gig, her impact spreads like wildfire. Likewise, the womanist empowers the generation and other woman. “We’re all beautiful and I’m going to let you know so. If you’re dope, the same thing. I don’t believe in giving someone the cold shoulder. I want to be the voice to let people know that we are getting things done, we do have feelings.” she says while adding “My style is based on the mood. I’m okay with that. I let it be expressed while I’m performing. I don’t want to pretend for the people that support me. I want to be real. Honestly, its edgy, bad-ass.” Bindi currently has 3 singles. “Over You” is her first single and one she gets excited performing. “Complicated” was released last year whereas “FaceTime” dropped in July.

Instagram: @thisisbindi

Spotify:

SUNLIGHT:

To describe Sunlight is this very line from his song, “Sunrise,” when they see the shine they know what’s up. His name matches the vibrant energy he possesses. To further put it, Sunlight radiates in all-around positivity. Between rapping vulnerable bars then undeniably hard ones, and singing with tranquility from the heart, Sunlight warms your soul as his voice flows through the ear streams of many. During our encounter, I could see passion shining through his eyes. His words came from a sincere place and I automatically felt at-home with this ambitious, fun-spirited musician. Sunlight started his music journey when he was 12 years old. He says “I always had a passion for it, I always enjoyed it. But I didn’t take it serious because I thought people wouldn’t take me serious. I was basing my performance off the judgement of others.” Thanks to his friends and family, Sunlight kept at it. He says they pushed him to keep going. Now, he’s here. His music’s style is undefinable. It’s something you have to get an earful of and determine. Sometimes he’ll get Chance the Rapper, others Kendrick Lamar or PARTYNEXTDOOR. Essentially, Sunlight makes feel-good music. For instance, the musician says that “Sunrise” is more of a wake-up song that demand you to have a good time whereas “Sunset” is for boo-loving. His project Too a Good Summer puts it to a tee. Alone, Sunlight’s sound gives off a cool, calm and collected vibe. The sunny-side-up artist finds influence in Childish Gambino and Jamie Foxx because they’re versatile. One New Jersey artist he’s like to collab with is Chris Patrick. And we both agree that he’s that dude. Sunlight leaves this word of advice for the upcoming artist: Be yourself. Don’t force a look or persona.

Instagram: @suunnnlight

Spotify:

#soundcloud #freshfinds #music #musicblog #listen #rap #banger #musicians #hip hop #follow #eventreview #rawshowcase #s.b #kory hiii #sunlight #bindi liebowitz

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alitheamateur · 6 years ago

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The Grind- Chapter 26

“You sure about this place, babe? How come you don’t just wanna grab some coffee from The Grind and go back to crash on the couch at home?” I asked as Colton pulled open my passenger side door to walk hand-in-hand with me down the sidewalk.

Luckily, I cautioned Tia’s persistent advice at dinner last night, and limited myself to only three glasses of wine, and one measly shot of Patron. So, Colton’s 7 a.m. feisty bite to the exposed skin of my cheek under the sheet as my wake-up call, wasn’t ruined with a blistering hangover. He was adamant about taking me to some diner he’d heard about from one of the guys at the bike shop to try their German potato pancakes that he was just so certain I’d love, and I was a sucker for a languid, sweatpants breakfast date every now and then.

“It’ll be fine, Livvy. Let’s enjoy some good grub, then I promise we’ll squeeze in a nap before we head to the gym later. Deal?”

He kissed the fingers that were interlocked with his own, then smiled mischievously as we slipped inside, escaping the rustling winds of the morning. We didn’t stop at the ‘wait to be seated sign’, instead Colt scanned the room, peeping over the full booths and tables around the room.

“C’mon, I see an empty table over here, babe.” he pointed, tugging me not so gently to the left of the hostess stand.

“Colton, we have to wai-,” I started to argue with his bullish, bizarre behavior, but before I could state my objections, reality slapped me across the face.

Seated with their backs to us, both sipping on a black cup of the house blend, were two Indiana natives, very far from home. Mom turned around to investigate the bustling approach over her shoulder, and stood to push herself from the seat with an unsure smile.

“Wh-..how did you guys get here? What’s going on?” I babbled wrapping a halfhearted, confused embrace around her neck, searching for an explanation from someone in the party of 3.

“It was all sweet, Colton, Liv honey. He arranged the whole thing. He insisted we come.” mom confessed, admiring Colton with a look of appreciation.

“I wanted ‘em here to see you fight, baby. And to see the house and everythin’. They got here yesterday afternoon, and I got them all set up at Westin, and ate dinner with the both of ‘em last night to get familiar.”

The pieces started to connect then. Why Tia was so snarky with keeping me away from the bottle, why Colton was so incessant about dragging me out of the house before 9 a.m. this morning, and why there was a button-down dress shirt discarded into the hamper when I did laundry after a late return home last night. I internally tipped a hat to his successful undercover moonlighting, though.

“Kid wouldn’t take a dime from us, either. Paid for the tickets, a ride from the airport, and our room, too. Seems we owe this one, sweetheart.” I heard dad say as I took one of the empty seats across the table from he and mom.

Their visit may not have been on my terms, or my timing, but I did feel complete having them here. Although there was a suitcase of nerves that landed on that plane along with their arrival to Pittsburgh, it just felt, right. The four of us, together, all in one place had me swelling with a sense of gladness and completion, all courtesy of the mysterious man in blue seated to my right.

“I can’t believe you did all this, Ritter. I expect a play-by-play when we get home, ya’ big box of lies.” I leaned to kiss him sincerely.

“I’m pretty impressed with myself to tell the truth.”

The meal consisted of bacon all around, mom whining about the cold temperature, those potato cakes Colton was correct about me losing my mind over, and a general calm, steady flow of conversation. I was impressed at how normal, and interested Tony and Liz seemed to be the entire time. Dad never brought up a single utterance of basketball, and mom pounded me with questions about my match, and what it would be like. I felt a connection so genuine that had been minuscule for so many years, and I knew Colton played a tremendous role in the healing psychological wounds.

“You guys should come by the house and spend the afternoon with us. All my stuff is moved in, and it doesn’t look like a construction site anymore. Mom, we could swing by the food market to get what you need for gran’s jambalaya for dinner, too!”

My inner, overly-eager, rambunctious childlike manner took me over, and I instantly began bulleting out an itinerary of events. I’d have to take mom to meet Andrew, and she would die over the Americana at The Grind. And dad, maybe Colton and I could take him to the trolley museum and a PNC park tour in the next couple of days.

“Livvy, we’ve got to try and get to the gym for a few hours today. It’s down to crunch time, babe,” Colt reminded me with apologetic tone. “But, we can check them out their room, and settle ‘em in at the house first, okay?”

Of course, the gym. This week wouldn’t be one of family dinners and touristy adventures with the fight countdown fuse burning low. And now, I had even more work to do down at Temple Fitness with my parents in attendance. The weight of potentially letting Colton, Tia, and the rest of my corner down was sickening enough, now add the weight of Tony and Elizabeth and you’ve got one wound tight Liv. Perfectionism is a weakness not all can relate to, and of that they should be eternally thankful. I failed my Warrior teammates and the rest of my small-town not so many years ago, and that disappointment in itself nearly disconnected me entirely. I may have grown and evolved in many ways since relocating to the Pittsburgh, but the will to please my loved ones was a quality I would undoubtedly live with until my final breath.

“You do whatever needs to be done today, sweetheart. I know these next few days are crucial, so don’t mind us. We’ll take whatever time you can give us.” my mom pats my hand from across the table, and shot and thoughtful smirk.

“We’re just happy to be here, Livvy. You’ve got a good one there.” My dad’s opinion of the man I loved was never considered to be a worry I had, but in that moment, I couldn’t have been more prideful in how truly wonderful Colton had been to them, and to me for organizing this little surprise.

After dragging my parents’ belongings up the front steps of our home, and leaving them the keys to my car in case they got the pangs to explore around a bit, Colton and myself dutifully reported for in for a session down to the gym. The last couple days I had been studying up on a submission move I really wanted to try out. The Omoplata essentially was a move to apply unbearable stress on the arm of your opponent, inevitably resulting in a tap out. Tia, nor Colton had introduced me to the technique, but it was one I had stumbled upon doing some research on my own one afternoon during some down time at the Pilot office. Having never actually seen it done in reality, I only had internet tutorials, and other martial arts circuit fights that had been posted online to educate myself.

Upon trucking into the somewhat crowded parking lot, and settling my duffle into a locker down the hall from the ring room, Tia had called to say something had soured in her stomach, and she wouldn’t be making it in to train with us today unless I wanted to mop up her throw-up. Naturally, I insisted she stay in and recover, leaving me in the hands of Colt.

“Grab the rope, let’s warm up for 10 minutes after you stretch, babe.” my handsome trainer instructed as he downed the settlings of a pre-workout drink at the bottom of his cup.

“Did you remember to tell dad about the construction on Liberty bridge in case they decide to venture out of the house?” My voice vibrated as I bounced with the whip-like jump rope.

“Yep, as we were walkin’ out the front door, Liv. Don’t worry, ‘ight? They’ll be fine. I gotta say though, I wasn’t expectin’ ya’ to be so thrilled about ‘em being here.”

I was fairly flabbergasted myself in that matter, but I had no explanation for my nervous excitement. I guess, maybe it was the common cliché of not knowing how much you in fact needed something, until you had it.

“Thank you, handsome. I really am glad you did all that. Although, I’m a little concerned with all the unsuspected sneaking around you were able to get away with.” I smirked, dropping the braided rope to adjust the tightness of my messy bun.

“It nearly got the best ‘a me lying to you like that, but it was for good reason, at least. Except, them being at the house every night for the next few days may turn out to be a little problem. Seein’ as their daughter can’t keep her greedy little hands off me & all…” he teased unnlacing his trainers to pull of his socks before we moved into the ring. He was knelt on one knee just a foot or two behind where I stood, then inched over in that crouched position to friskily bite the pert cheek of my backside, and grabbed a handful of the other.

I’d never get tired of those stout, mitt-like hands of his touching my body, and I let my head drop backward a bit to sigh into his touch. If by some unfortunate event, things between us happen to fall to pieces again, no man would ever live up to the bar set by the infamous Colton Ritter.

“I can manage a little self-control, you animal. Let’s make a bet on who caves in first, shall we?” I said, stepping over the middle rope of the mat.

“You better be careful playin’ with fire girl. You may get burned.”

We had bounced around, grappling and rolling for nearly an hour already, with just a couple rushed breaks for water, and I still hadn’t built up the courage to try the move I had been so eager to crack at. I welcomed the respect that Colton had to never half-ass me when we did train one-on-one, however always extremely careful to make sure I was never harmed in any way. His insights, and words of wisdom related to the cage were something I considered to be a matchless gift, and I loved him eternally for offering it up.

Just as I was about to weigh the Omoplata to be the impossible, especially considering my mock opponent at the current time, Colton let down a wall, and broke his own most crucial ‘golden rule’ of fighting. He attempted to tangle me, but instead, mistakenly gave me his back, awarding me the perfect moment to pounce. I pinched his shoulder between the bones of my knees, then swung one leg hurriedly over his head. Colton’s arm was trapped between the center of my limbs, essentially hooked around my left thigh as I crossed my ankles. I flattened his chest and face to the mat with speed I didn’t know I had, and swung my legs to the side, easing into a squat with his helpless arm still locked in. The stretching pressure of his muscle grew the higher I raised, and defeated, Colton yelped out with a tap.

Instantly releasing, I tumbled to my back, and laid to rest with exasperating breaths. Executing the technique on an individual with such a powerful strength, was equally as exhausting on the attacker as the victim, and I could feel my blood tingling, and rushing through my veins like the Colorado rapids.

“I sure as hell don’t fuckin’ remember teachin’ you that, 2-1,” my captor said still face planted onto the canvas, almost cackling. “But you pulled it off with damn near perfection. I’m impressed, baby!”

“That one is just a little something I picked up on my own. Coach…” I replied, mounting his back to massage his shirtless shoulders.

Colton flipped, doing a 180 to now laying on his back, with me still atop him with a sweaty, rosy face.

“Oh, so she thinks she can pin me now, huh? Don’t get too comfortable up there, Elliott. You know I don’t do bottom.”

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935 @littleluna98 @mollybegger-blog

#Tom Hardy #tomhardy #tomhardyfanfic #tom hardy fanfiction #tomhardyfanfiction #tommy conlon #elizabeth olsen #thegrind

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secretradiobrooklyn · 4 years ago

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May Day Edition | 5.1.21

Secret Radio | 5.1.21 | Hear it here.

1. Zia - “Helel Yos”

This song has been in our heads in a big way the last few weeks. Zia was my first exposure to pre-revolutionary Iranian rock — sometimes called “psych rock,” though I can’t tell if that’s a designation he would make himself. But to be fair, I have no idea what he’s going for. Nonetheless, those little whistles he does get under my skin and into my brain. I wake up in the morning singing “helel yoza, hella hella helel yoza”… This is from the late ‘60s, I believe. The whole album (also called “Helel Yos”) is pretty excellent, and includes the song “Khofrium” from our last broadcast. A recent favorite and highly recommended.

2. Shin Joong Hyun - “Pushing through the Fog”

Somehow stumbled on this collection of South Korean music, and it has been mesmerizing. Shin Joong Hyun is a great example of something I love discovering over and over again: someone working within a language and a genre, but also expressing a completely unique personal style that extends beyond those general qualities and into startling specifics. This song is from “Beautiful Rivers and Mountains: The Psychedelic Rock Sound of South Korea’s Shin Joong Hyun 1958-74,” which blows my mind, because the tones, and especially the bass and drums, sound so completely of the moment. It’s sold out at Light In The Attic’s store, so we’ll be keeping our eyes out for it in the wild, because these are going to be some crucial liner notes. The brief version on their site describes him as a guitarist, songwriter, producer, arranger, and talent developer. He began by performing for US troops in Korea post active war time, became a bewitching guitarist and songwriter, then started producing other bands in the region, and a string of hits developed. It sounds like his story includes a really harsh period of intrusion and disruption by the government… but as far as I can tell he survived to the current day, and even helped oversee this collection.

3. The Traces - “Je t’aime moi non plus” - “Thai Beat A Go Go Vol 2”

Ummm… I would LOVE to know what words they’re singing. This chummy Thai version of Gainsbourg’s super sensual “Je t’aime, moi non plus” is such a weird listening experience. I think one of the singers is either drunk or hearing the song for a first or second pass. What are they saying?!

4. Annie Philippe - “On m’a toujours dit”

I really love the energy and style of this track and many of the Annie Philippe songs I’ve heard, which makes it aggravating that the first thing one finds online in English about Philippe is a condescending, limp writeup on her by Richie Unterberger that tries its best to ignore how delightful her voice is and how pleasurable the arrangements are — luckily the dude mentions that Paul Mariat worked on her albums, who also arranged Charles Aznavour. I love the florid colors of French pop from the ‘60s with hothouse arrangements and wide-flung voices. The ebullient drums and electric guitar, the confident harmonies and tucked in little organ and horn licks are all pure joy.

5. T.P. Orchestre Poly-Rythmo de Cotonou - “Houton Kan Do Go Me”

While we were in the Illinois woods we received some very welcome records from Germany’s Analog Africa label which included “The Skeletal Essences of Afro-Funk,” a collection of songs by pretty much our favorite band in the world, T.P. Orchestre. These songs that explore some of the facets of the band that “Echoes Hypnotique” and “The Vodoun Effect” — both gorgeous, keystone records — hadn’t gotten to yet. The language is Fon, the style is Jerk, and the composer (though not the singer, I think) is Bentho Gustave, T.P.’s bassist. pretty sure the singer is Lohento Eskill.

- Hailu Mergia & The Walias - “Musicawi Silt”

The Walias is the band that Hailu Mergia was in when he first came to America. I seem to remember a story that they were disappointed with the trip, went home to Ethiopia and broke up, but Mergia stayed and kept developing his keyboard style, which did a few decades later (!) actually win him wide recognition and acclaim. This is some of his earlier work, not in the director’s seat, and you can hear so much of Mergia’s style woven into the band’s arrangements. I love how it sounds like he’s just playing pure electric current — it barely sounds like an organ to me, more like uncut groove tone.

6. “Newsies” clip

In celebration of May Day, we present this inspiring tale of unions forming in the streets of New York.

7. Sexe a Pile - “Pas Méchant”

Another recent record score, this one from our other most favorite label, Born Bad Records in France: “Paink: French Punk Anthems 1977-1982.” One thing I love about this song is that the chorus always makes me think of “High Class” by the Buzzards, a song that never got nearly enough love as far as I’m concerned.

8. The Replacements - “Customer”

Dave got me thinking about the Replacements and before I knew it we were deep into “Sorry Ma, Forgot to Take Out the Trash.” So wild and loose and pissed off and sincere the whole time. You can really hear Westerberg yearn to be great but also sneer at himself for taking something seriously. It used to sound so unhinged to me but now it has become an album about being young and scared of yourself

9. Plearn Promdan - “Ruk Kum Samong”

Well, this was something we didn’t see coming — the Thai music we’ve heard up to now has been more ’50s influenced. It sounds like a four-piece rock band surrounded by a drum circle. This is part of what’s apparently known as Luk Thung underground. There’s been some very good stuff so far, I look forward to finding out more.

10. T.P. Orchestre - “Azanlokpe”

I got a little obsessed with T.P. Orchestre for a while there, and was trying to listen to every single recording that Discogs offered — which is a LOT, because they were super prolific. This is one of my favorite finds so far. I wish I could say which singer this is; it was noted as Melome Clément but I don’t think that’s him. So many talented people in this band!

11. Francis Bebey - “Super Jingle”

Francis Bebey contains multitudes. I’m pretty sure he records all of these parts himself. I think he’s just a master of rhythm — all of the instruments weave a tapestry that he can then cavort upon. The body of the song is so hypnotizing, the lead so akimbo.

12. Dalida - “J’ai revé”

One of the highlights of the 2017 St. Louis International Film Fest was the biopic of her life. This is early Dalida. As far as Paige understands, she’s the French Lady Gaga for people who were clubbing in the ’70s and ’80s. The story of her life has some really sad shit, but this take on Bobby Darin’s “Dream Lover” is full of life.

- “Newsies” reprise

Radical sincerity sometimes requires references to musicals.

- Petch Pintong - “Soul Lum Piern”

I love this track and know nothing about it except that it was collected on “Thai Beat A Go Go Vol 4.” Those collections have turned out to be full of riches!

13. Atomic Forest - “Obsession ’77 (Fast)”

OK, these guys seem really interesting. They’re an Indian psych-funk band, which was apparently totally unheard of there, and they only released a single album — and that one only after they broke up. Because that album is full of great stuff, most notably (at least to me) this track, their story is almost too perfectly suited to the obsessions of vinyl collectors worldwide. Now-Again Records re-released the album in 2011, and we ran across it just a couple months ago. I really enjoy the sense of narrative in the song — what’s happening in the foreground keeps evolving and remaining legitimately interesting.

14. Metak - “Da Mi Je Biti Morski Pas”

I’m proud to say that these dedicated rockers are Croatian, and this track from 1980 rocks like a seafoam T-top Stingray. This is from a 7” with “Rock’n’Roller” on the flip.

15. Mai Lan - “Les Huîtres”

Paige found this amazing playlist on Spotify years ago, and this is finally the way she started getting into more contemporary French music. It sounds like she’s from a musical and artistic French-Vietnamese family. “Les Huîtres” is from around 2008. Kind of feels like

16. VIS Idoli - “Maljciki”

We found a video of this Yugoslavian ska while looking for something else entirely. I did learn that this is political ska, and that they were frowned upon by the government. One account has them being indulged by the government; another has them under threat of punishment. I do love knowing that ska is a political form and not just a genre. I have no idea how they would feel about the Croatian rockers a few tracks back, and I hope none of them did any harm to one another other during the terrible ‘90s.

17. Para One, Arthur Simonini - “La Jeune Fille en Feu” - “Portrait of a Woman on Fire” score

Did you see “Portrait of a Woman on Fire”? We highly recommend it, for a lot of reasons but definitely for the passage of this song. It sounds great here, but at night, by firelight, with all the nuns and farmwomen on the island?

18. The Space Lady - “Ghost Riders in the Sky”

- Sleepy Kitty - “Western Antagonist Reflection”

19. Mikyas Chernet - “Ziyoze”

Marc, this is the song I was talking about stepping into the Teddy Afro position. It’s definitely not the same, but you can hear the modern Ethiopian pop feel running through it. It helps that I first heard it while picking up an order from our favorite Ethiopian in STL, which is also where we first heard Teddy Afro. The dancers are on POINT in the video, and they’re rockin a couple of new styles that I hadn’t seen yet.

20. Nazir Ali - “Lad Pyar Aur Beti”

Listen to the giant smiles in their voices! This is from a very recent compilation. That female voice has to be Nahid Aktar, or at least it sounds just like her; I think the protagonist-sounding male voice is Ali’s. There is a brief appearance from that Oscar the Grouch-sounding guy from last episode’s Aktar song. It’s so cool how the song shifts into new mode after new mode as it goes.

21. Nathalie - “L’Amour Nous Repond”

22. The Fall - “L.A.”

This period of The Fall is surely our favorite — wherever Brix E. went, the songs were great. And now, with vaccines coursing through our systems, we can feel our thoughts casting their way to LA and San Francisco…

23. Akaba Man & The Nigie Rokets - “Ta Gha Hunsimwen”

Analog Africa’s most recent release is “Edo Funk Explosion Vol. 1,” with tracks from the late ‘70s and ‘80s in Nigeria’s Benin City. Akaba Man is described as “the philosopher king of Edo funk.” The whole album is full of good tracks that only get better with repeated listens. This one has a bed of sounds that could happily go on for hours or days.

24. Gérard Manset - “Entrez dans le rêve”

Paige: “If you ever want to hear Lou Reed sing in French, this is the best we’re gonna get.”

- Johnny Guitar - “Bangkok by Night”

We heard the “Shadow Music of Thailand” album a while back but haven’t dipped into it for too long. This Santo & Johnny style reverbed-out dream of the ‘50s lives eternally in Thai psych guitar.

25. David Bowie - “When I Live My Dream”

We do not condone the killing of any species of dragon, and I can only trust that neither dragon nor giant was harmed in the making of this fantasy.

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theguardian911 · 8 years ago

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Top 10 Mistakes People Make When Raising A Puppy You’ll make mistakes as you raise your puppy so being aware of what to do and what not to do will ensure you move forward in a positive, healthy manner. When I promised to write this article, I suggested listing the ten most common mistakes dog lovers make with puppies. My list turned into 30 or 40 points and I realized this article will be the starting point of many more conversations whether it’s in these pages or online. Hip dysplasia, vaccinosis, too many prescriptions drugs, poor bone growth, chronic diarrhea, cruciate ligament tears, obesity, epilepsy, organ failure, autoimmune disease, cancer and premature loss are often the outcomes of well intended deeds and poor advice that people get about puppy care. I hope the following 10 points serve as a springboard to ignite the engine of learning so you can go deeper and your actions will make a huge, positive difference in the life of the dog you love. Enjoy! MISTAKE #1: GETTING THE WRONG DOG We live in times when almost anything you buy can be returned. This has led to certain behaviors when it comes to getting a dog. People see a dog and don’t think about how much food a dog needs, what climate their coat and body can handle, what diseases the breed is predisposed to, how much they bark and how they connect with their people. Some dog lovers go through a harsh awakening when the food bill for their Great Dane is more than their own or they have to wear earplugs night and day because their dog barks like crazy. A Border Collie is not a good match for a couch potato, a Chihuahua is not a great avalanche rescue dog, a Chow Chow is not likely to be tolerant with kids and an Alaskan Malamute is not exactly a dog for Hawaii. Research breeds before you get your puppy. With some exceptions, most dogs come with reliable breed characteristics, which makes it easier to match your dog’s traits to your needs and situation. MISTAKE #2: GETTING A PUPPY FROM THE WRONG PLACE Most people are aware that puppy mills are some of the worst, torturous places for dogs. Many who buy a dog from a pet store or a puppy mill say they “just wanted to rescue the poor puppy” but that only supports the puppy mill machine. The only time you should adopt a puppy mill dog is after a crackdown by local authorities. Puppy mill purchasers only contribute to the misery of many canine generations. Puppy mill operators often advertise themselves as reputable breeders. That makes it increasingly important to check the puppy’s home and ensure you have not fallen for false advertising. Ideally, adopt from a reputable registered rescue organization that aligns with your beliefs and values. Find a breed-specific rescue if you want particular breed. MISTAKE #3: KNOW-IT-ALL SYNDROME Just recently I visited a friend who fostered two puppies. I saw her boyfriend spanking the puppy because it was chewing on his hand and I knew the situation was tricky. If I let him go on spanking the puppy without intervening, I would be letting the poor puppy down. So as gently as I could, I suggested that placing a toy or a bone in the puppy’s mouth or putting him in a crate for a moment would be effective without the spanking. “I know how to raise dogs!” my friend replied. “My parents had dogs and we always spanked them and they turned out alright!” In fact, dogs are not okay when they are physically punished. A dog is much better behaved and happier when we reinforce good behavior and prevent or ignore negative behavior (when it’s safe to do so). MISTAKE # 4: OVERUSE USE OF THE WORD NO Imagine you’re in a restaurant with a friend and you’d like to excuse yourself from the table for a minute to say hi to a person you know. Your friend looks at you and loudly says NO! Or you want to watch your favorite TV show and your partner, who has a different idea in mind, comes and yells at you NO! The truth is that the word NO in a commanding tone makes most people feel uncomfortable, irritated or downright angry. NO is disrespectful and negative. Dogs are no different except they can’t tell a person to treat them kindly. Their only defense is to ignore the word if it is used frequently or get away as far as possible. I remember the words of my behaviorist friend who advised me to treat my dog the same way I’d like to be treated. Kindness and patience generate trust while dominance and use of force create resistance, fear or even aggression. A good example is a situation when a dog is jumping up on people. Yelling “Fido NO!” usually creates tension. Contain your dog calmly, use a neutral tone of voice and put training of difficult tasks aside for later in a setting with minimal distraction or with the help of a positively minded behaviorist or trainer. MISTAKE #5: CHOOSING THE WRONG VETERINARIAN It’s my experience that most of my colleagues are sincere and are there for their patients and clients. However, some veterinarians are unable to separate their responsibility and duty from the idea of nancial gains or losses in their practice. It takes personal maturity and integrity to talk a client out of a $1,000 procedure when there’s a $50 solution. There are several reasons why this is happening. One is that it is extremely hard to run a profitable practice without the sales of drugs, vaccines, surgery and kibble. Another reason is veterinarians are educated by drug and pet food companies and their reps, who frequently visit clinics to teach the staff how to push their products. Before you choose a new vet, read their website, research online reviews and talk to local dog lovers. If you see a lot of negative reviews about your vet, it may be a sign you should go elsewhere. MISTAKE #6: FEEDING PROCESSED FOOD I regularly talk to other dog lovers in dog parks and on beaches and I often hear them say they feed “natural kibble.” It’s true some pet foods are made from better than average ingredients but there are several issues with processed food that may make you rethink your puppy’s diet. The dry foods like kibble or dehydrated foods put stress on your dog’s kidneys because they draw water from the body and may cause a state of dehydration. The fat in processed food can turn rancid fast. It’s common for pet food to sit in a store or warehouse for several months before it’s sold. Often I see the numbers don’t add up when I consider the per pound price of processed dog food and compare it with the price of quality meat and factor in the weight lost from dehydration. And even if your dog’s food is made of the best ingredients available, how would you like to eat the same dry food every day? Perhaps every dog lover who feeds kibble should try eating uncooked, dehydrated camp food for a weekend! Canned food is heated to high temperatures, which makes it less nutritious. Feeding your dog a raw diet, or at least a cooked meat and vegetable diet, is the best for your puppy – but don’t forget to add natural vitamins, minerals, an omega-3 supplement and probiotics. Feeding your dog a raw diet, or at least a cooked meat and vegetable diet, is the best for your puppy – but don’t forget to add natural vitamins, minerals, an omega-3 supplement and probiotics. (Start your puppy off right, start him on a raw diet! Read more …) MISTAKE #7: EXERCISING TOO LITTLE OR TOO MUCH Frequently, people exercise their dog too much because they worry about boredom and weakness. Or they don’t exercise them enough because they worry their young puppy will get hurt. As with most things in life, the truth is somewhere in between. When it comes to exercise, we should try to get as close to the natural lifestyle of dogs (and wolves)as possible. Ample play and socialization in a safe environment with dogs about the same size and age are ideal. If there is a discrepancy in size and age, rough play or injuries and ghts can be very traumatic for puppies and can be the start of reactivity and fear aggression. Ball throwing and too much sprinting, slipping and sliding cause injuries. It’s not natural for dogs to go back and forth for 15 or even 30 minutes. Dogs should mainly play, trot and run but sprint only very brie y here and there. Walking and hiking are okay but introduce your puppy gradually to these activities and use common sense with young puppies. Play and walking are more appropriate activities. If you use a daycare facility while you’re at work, stay with your dog a few minutes a few times to see how she interacts and if she truly enjoys being there. I remember putting my dog Skai in a daycare once when he was a puppy. I will never forget his look when I came back. It was simply too much for him. He also ran away from a dog walker twice because the group was too rowdy. He ended up at the nearest house where he was looked after until we found him. The truth is that dogs are like people. Some enjoy larger groups and others do better with fewer dogs. It’s important to respect your puppy’s comfort zone to keep her safe. MISTAKE #8: USING THE WRONG RESTRAINT I see many people demand that their youngster heel on leash right away. Puppies need to develop and evolve mentally to be able to grasp this challenge – similarly to a two-year-old needing to grow up a little before learning to read. The natural tendency of dogs is to pull and if you use a collar, the probability of your puppy sustaining a neck injury and thyroid gland trauma is very high. Plus, such injuries are often missed and untreated. The neck is vital to your dog’s health. It governs the function of many internal organs and conducts nerves and arteries to the body, head and brain. To keep your puppy safe, use a front clip or a combination of a front and top clip harness. Even if you your puppy doesn’t pull on the leash in general, there are When it comes to exercise, we should try to get as close to the natural lifestyle of dogs (and wolves) as possible. Ample play and socialization in a safe environment with dogs about the same size and age are ideal. The times when she’ll pull because she sees a friend, another dog or wants to sniff or chase a squirrel. I recommend never attaching a leash to your dog’s collar, and never use choke, prong or shock collars on your dog. You’ll be able to avoid serious medical problems. MISTAKE #9: USING A RETRACTABLE LEASH Many people love retractable leashes because they give their dog more freedom of movement. However this comes with a hefty price. In order for a dog to move away, it has to pull on the spring-loaded leash which creates pressure on the neck. A dog wearing a collar puts an unnatural degree of stress on the neck or the shoulders and the torso so wearing a harness with this type of leash is safest. But this is not all. When a dog gets to the end of the leash or when the leash brake is applied, it creates an extra strong jerk that can cause even more serious damage to the thyroid gland, blood vessels and nerves. One of the most common problems related to such injuries is paw licking. Dogs lick their paws because the nerves coming from the neck to the feet are pinched or injured which causes abnormal sensation and licking. MISTAKE #10: LACK OF BOUNDARIES AND SOCIALIZATION I kept this topic for last because if you ensure clear and loving boundaries, living with a dog can be the most rewarding life experience. If you don’t, your dog may turn into a little hell on wheels. Obedience is a sensitive topic but here are a few pointers that make a big difference. Socialize your puppy with other dogs as soon as the titer test comes back conforming antibodies (immunity) against distemper and parvovirus. Don’t take your puppy to a busy dog park until she’s more mature to avoid getting traumatized by rowdy dogs. Teach your dog how to stay put in an emergency in street traffic where you need to maintain control. Never scold your dog if she does something wrong, especially when she comes back to you. This may create fear and hesitation next time. Don’t let your dog beg or give her food when you’re eating at the table. As soon as you reward your dog for begging, the habit is hard to shake and your dog will be unhappy and confused. It can also be difficult if you have visitors for dinner. I see strict table manners as an act of kindness and love, not the opposite. Dogs also love clear boundaries. If you call your dog and she doesn’t come, use the cue “wait” and go and pick up your puppy. Repeated calls will make recall ine cient and put your dog in danger. Personally, I recommend using healthy treats to reward your puppy for good behavior. Wishing you and your puppy many happy years to come!

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