#la junk talks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mostlysignssomeportents · 6 months

Text

“Brand safety” killed Jezebel

I'll be at the Studio City branch of the LA Public Library this Monday, November 13 at 1830hPT to launch my new novel, The Lost Cause. There'll be a reading, a talk, a surprise guest (!!) and a signing, with books on sale. Tell your friends! Come on down!

Progressives: if you want to lose to conservatives, all you need to do is reflexively praise and support everything conservatives turn into a culture-war issue, without considering whether they might be right. Because sometimes…they're right.

Remember early in the Trump presidency, when conservatives all woke up and discovered that America's spy agencies – excuse me, "the intelligence community" – were dirty-tricking psychos who run amok, lawlessly sabotaging democracy? Progressives have been shouting this ever since Hoover's FBI tried to blackmail MLK into killing himself:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/FBI%E2%80%93King_suicide_letter

But millions of progressives forgot about COINTELPRO, CIA dirty tricks and CIA mass spying when this "intelligence community" temporarily set out to wrong-foot Trump. Remember James Comey votive candles?

https://www.usatoday.com/story/opinion/2019/08/30/james-comey-fbi-memo-leaks-trump-inspector-general-report-column/2157705001/

Anthropologists have a name for this phenomenon, in which one side reverses its positions because their sworn enemies have done so. It's called schizmogenesis, and it goes like this: "If they hate it, we love it":

https://pluralistic.net/2021/12/18/schizmogenesis/

Schizmogenesis is an equal-opportunity delusion. Within living memory, white evangelicals supported abortion, because their sworn enemies – Catholics – opposed it. Some of those white Boomer women who voted Trump because abortion was literally the only issue they cared about held the opposite position on abortion not so long ago – and completely forgot about it:

https://text.npr.org/734303135

The main purpose of the culture war isn't immiserating marginalized people – that's its effect, but its purpose is to distract low-information turkeys (working people) so they'll vote for Christmas (the ongoing seizure of power by American oligarchs). For the funders of conservative movement politics, the cruelty isn't the point, it's merely the tactic. The point is power:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/03/09/turkeys-voting-for-christmas/#culture-wars

Which brings me to "woke capitalism." Conservative string-pullers have whipped up their base about the threat of companies embracing social causes. They (erroneously) claim that corporations have progressive values, and that big business is thumbing the scales for causes they despise. The purpose here isn't to sow distrust of capitalism per se. Rather, it's to stampede talk-radio-addled supporters into backing the oligarchy's agenda. Remember when culture war leaders told their base to support being gouged on credit-card junk fees "to own the libs?"

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/04/owning-the-libs/#swiper-no-swiping

That's schizmogenesis working against the conservative rank-and-file, tricking them into taking the side of a cartel of wildly profitable payment processors who are making billions by picking their pockets (credit card fees are up 40% since the covid lockdowns), because (checks notes), Target pays these profiteers a lot to process its payments, and Target sells Pride merch (no, really):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/04/owning-the-libs/#swiper-no-swiping

It's easy to point and laugh at conservative dopes when they're tricked into shooting themselves in the balls to own the libs. This is not a hypothetical example:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/28/holographic-nano-layer-catalyser/#musketfuckers

But progressives do it, too, particularly when they embrace monopolies as a force for positive social change. Remember 2019, when people got excited about playing loud pop music at Nazi rallies in the hopes that the monopoly video platforms' copyright filters would make any video from that rally impossible to post?

https://memex.craphound.com/2019/07/23/clever-hack-that-will-end-badly-playing-copyrighted-music-during-nazis-rallies-so-they-cant-be-posted-to-youtube/

I warned then that if this tactic worked, it would be used by cops to prevent you from recording them when they're macing you or splitting your skull with a billyclub, and yup, within a couple years, cops were blaring Taylor Swift music in hopes of preventing the public from posting videos of their illegal conduct:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/07/moral-hazard-of-filternets/#dmas

Conservatives are (partially) right about woke capitalism. It is a threat to democracy. Concentrating the power to decide who gets to speak and what they get to say into the hands of five or six corporations, mostly run by mediocre billionaires, is bad for society. The moderation decisions of giant platforms are a form of (commercial) censorship, even these don't violate the First Amendment:

https://locusmag.com/2020/01/cory-doctorow-inaction-is-a-form-of-action/

(The progressive delusion that censorship only occurs when the First Amendment is violated is a wild own-goal, one that excuses, for example, the decision by school book-fair monopolist Scholastic to remove books about queers and Black and brown people from its offerings as a purely private matter without consequences for free speech):

https://www.themarysue.com/scholastic-response-to-authors-and-illustrators-on-diverse-books/

Conservatives are only partially right about woke capitalism, though. Here's what they're wrong about: corporations don't have values. Target isn't selling Pride tees because they support progressive causes, they're selling them because it seems like a good way to increase returns to their shareholders. Individuals – even top executives – at Target might endorse the cause, but the company will only durably support the cause if that endorsement is profitable, which means that when it stops being profitable, the company will stop supporting the cause:

https://www.cnn.com/2023/05/23/business/target-lgbtq-merchandise/index.html

The idea that corporations have values isn't merely stupid, it's very dangerous. The Hobby Lobby decision – which allows corporations to deny basic health-care expenses for women on the basis that a Bronze Age mystic wouldn't approve of an IUD – rests on the ideological foundation that corporate personhood includes corporate values:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Burwell_v._Hobby_Lobby_Stores,_Inc.

Citizens United – the idea that corporations should be allowed to funnel unlimited funds to politicians who'll sell out the public good in favor of investor profits – also depends on a form of corporate personhood that includes values:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Citizens_United_v._FEC

There are undeniably instances in which corporate monopoly power benefits progressive causes, but these are side-effects of corporate power's main purpose, namely: taking money and power away from working people and giving it to rich people. That is what monopoly power is for.

Which brings me to ad-tech, "brand safety," and the demise of Jezebel, the 16 year old feminist website whose shuttering was just announced by its latest owner, G/O Media:

https://www.metafilter.com/201349/This-is-the-end-of-Jezebel-and-that-feels-really-really-bad

Jezebel's demise is the direct result of monopoly power. Jezebel writes about current affairs – sex, politics, abortion, and other important issues of great moment and significance. When we talk about journalism as a public good, necessary for a healthy civic life, this is what we mean. But unfortunately for Jezebel – and any other news outlet covering current events – there are vast, invisible forces that exist solely to starve this kind of coverage of advertising revenue.

Writing for the independent news site 404 Media, reporter Emanuel Maiberg and former Motherboard editor-in-chief Jason Koebler go deep on the "brand safety" industry, whose mission is to assist corporations in blocking their ads from showing up alongside real news:

https://www.404media.co/advertisers-dont-want-sites-like-jezebel-to-exist/

Maiberg and Koebler explain how industry associations like the World Federation of Marketers' Global Alliance for Responsible Media (GARM) promulgate "frameworks" to help advertisers automatically detect and exclude real news from consideration when their ads are placed:

https://www.peer39.com/blog/garm-standards

This boycott makes use of scammy "AI" technology like "sentiment and emotional analysis" to determine whether an article is suitable for monetization. These parameters are then fed to the ad-tech duopoly's ad auction system, so Google and Meta (who control the vast majority of online advertising) can ensure that real news is starved of cash.

But reality is not brand-safe, and high quality, reputable journalistic outlets are concerned with reality, which means that the "brand safe" outlets that attract the most revenue are garbage websites that haven't yet been blacklisted by the ad-safety cartel, leading to major brands' ads showing up alongside notorious internet gross-out images like "goatse":

https://www.404media.co/sqword-game-dev-sneaks-goatse-onto-a-dozen-sites-that-stole-his-game/

More than a fifth of "brand safe" ad placements end up on "made for advertising" sites, which 404 Media describe as "trash websites that plagiarize content, are literally spam, pay for fake traffic, or are autogenerated websites that serve no other purpose than capturing ad dollars":

https://www.ana.net/miccontent/show/id/rr-2023-06-ana-programmatic-transparency-first-look

Despite all this, many progressives have become cheerleaders for "brand safety," as a countervailing force to the drawdown of trust and safety at online platforms, which led to the re-platforming of Nazis, QAnon conspiratorialists, TERFs, and other overt elements of the reactionary movement's vanguard on Twitter and Facebook. Articles about ads for major brands showing up alongside Nazi content on Twitter are now a staple of progressive reporting, presented as evidence of Elon Musk's lack of business acumen. The message of these stories is "Musk is bad at business because he's allowing Nazis on his platform, which will send advertisers bolting for the exits to avoid brand-safety crises."

This isn't wrong. Musk is a bad businessman (he's a good scam artist, though). Twitter is hemorrhaging advertisers, notwithstanding the desperate (and easily debunked) stats-juking its "CEO," Linda Yaccarino, floats onstage at tech conferences:

https://www.techdirt.com/2023/10/11/math-problem-for-linda-yaccarino-if-90-of-the-top-advertisers-have-come-back-but-are-only-spending-10-of-what-they-used-to-how-screwed-are-you/

But progressives are out of their minds if they think the primary effect of the brand safety industry is punishing Elon Musk for secretly loving Nazis. The primary effect of brand safety is killing reality-based coverage of the news of the day, and since reality has a well-known anti-conservative bias, anything that works against the reality-based community is ultimately good for oligarchy:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reality-based_community

We can't afford to let schizmogenesis stampede us into loving things just because conservative culture warriors have been momentarily tricked into hating them as part of oligarchs' turkeys-voting-for-Christmas project. "Swivel-eyed loons hate it, so it must be good," is a worse-than-useless heuristic for navigating complex issues:

https://locusmag.com/2023/05/commentary-cory-doctorow-the-swivel-eyed-loons-have-a-point/

A much better rule of thumb is "If oligarchs love something, it's probably bad." Almost without exception, things that are good for oligarchs are bad for the rest of us. I mean, this whole shuttering of Jezebel starts with an oligarch imposing his will on millions of other people. Jezebel began life as a Gawker Media site, beloved of millions of readers, destroyed when FBI informant Peter Thiel secretly funded Hulk Hogan's lawsuit against the publisher in a successful bid to put them out of business to retaliate for their unfavorable coverage of Thiel:

https://www.theatlantic.com/business/archive/2018/02/hogan-thiel-gawker-trial/554132/

This, in turn, put Jezebel under the ownership of G/O Media, who are unwilling to pay for a human salesforce that would – for example – sell advertising space on Jezebel to sex-toy companies or pro-abortion groups. G/O has been on a killing spree, shuttering beloved news outlets like Deadspin:

https://deadspin.com/this-is-how-things-work-now-at-g-o-media-1836908201

G/O's top exec, an oligarch named Jim Spanfeller who answers to the private equity looters at Great Hill Partners, is bent on ending reality-based coverage in favor of "letting robots shit out brand safe AI-assisted articles about generic topics":

https://www.msnbc.com/opinion/msnbc-opinion/ai-articles-disinformation-future-g-o-media-rcna95944

Three quarters of a century ago, Orwell coined a term to describe this kind of news: duckspeak,

It was not the man’s brain that was speaking it was his larynx. The stuff that was coming out of him consisted of words but it was not speech in true sense: it was a noise uttered in unconsciousness like the quacking of a duck.

When investors and analysts speak of "content" (rather than, say, "journalism"), this is what they mean – a warm slurry of platitudes, purged of any jagged-edged fragments to render it a perfectly suitable carrier for commercial messages targeted based on surveillance data about the "consumer" whose eyeballs are upon it.

This aversion to reality has been present among corporate decisionmakers since the earliest days, but the consolidation of power among large firms – ad-tech firms, online platforms, and "brands" themselves – makes corporate realityphobia much easier to turn into, well, reality, giving advertisers the fine-grained power to put Jezebel and every site like it out of business.

As Koebler and Maiberg's headliine so aptly puts it, "Advertisers Don’t Want Sites Like Jezebel to Exist."

The reason to deplore Nazis on Twitter is because they are Nazis, not because their content isn't brand-safe. The short-term wins progressives gain by legitimizing a corporate veto over what we see online are vastly overshadowed by the most important consequence of brand safety: the mass extinction of reality-based reporting. Reality isn't brand safe. If you're in the reality based community, brand safety should be your sworn enemy, even if they help you temporarily get a couple of Nazis kicked off Twitter.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/11/ad-jacency/#brand-safety

#pluralistic #jezebel #publishing #brand safety #adjacency #adtech #media theory #censorship #surveillance advertising #dynamic ad placement #quackspeak #Global Alliance for Responsible Media #garm #debated sensitive social issue #Third Party Safety and suitability #schizmogenesis #woke capitalism #duckspeak

2K notes · View notes

thefastestelementalmasteralive · 4 months

Text

Bianca lives! Pjo au

Imma call this au Pollution

Basically Percy is the one that goes into the automaton or whatever in hephaestus' junk yard. Bianca lives. They can't find Percy's body

Nico can't make contact with percy or find him in the underworld

Time skip

Okay, Jason appears at camp three days after Clarrise La Rue disappears. Clarrise takes Percy's place on the SON.

The seven is now the Eleven

Annabeth, Bianca, Clarisse, Frank, Grover, Hazel, Jason, Nico, Leo, Piper, Reyna.

Nico does hear talk of a Son of neptune in the Roman camp but can never pin down the rumors, much less the name of the kid.

Eventually, the eleven find out one of Gaea's generals is said Son of Neptune. His face, despite any scald or burn scars, is a very familiar one.

#percy jackson #percy jackson au #percy pjo #percy jackson pjo #clarrise la rue #annabeth chase #nico di angelo #bianca di angelo #grover underwood #frank zhang #hazel levesque #leo valdez #piper mclean #reyna avila ramirez arellano #jason grace #camp halfblood #new rome

162 notes · View notes

neonghostlights · 7 months

Text

★ A/N: We've got another flashback! This is nearly a year after The Prom Incident.

★ Series Summary: It’s the ‘90s in LA and you and your best friend Eddie have both made it big. The following is a series of Interviews, News Reports and One Shots showing you and Eddie’s story throughout the years.

★ Chapter Summary: Chrissy Cunningham deserves better.

★ Warnings: Jealousy, Smoking, Cussing, Injury (Eddie is hurt), Fighting/Assault, Blood, Guns (a shotgun is shot), Drugs. 18+ only, Minors DNI

★Wordcount: 2.8k

Series Masterlist

Chapter Eight: That Night Back In '86

March 21st, 1986

You were so ready to be off work.

Your feet hurt, your back hurt, hell even your eyelashes hurt.

Working at the gas station after you graduated highschool was never the plan. It also wasn’t the plan for Eddie to fail senior year.

Again.

You considered this your break year. Your grandma wasn’t pushing you into going to school right away, perfectly happy with keeping you in the trailer with her. You were so thankful that she wasn’t trying to get rid of you like some parents did as soon as their kid had a diploma in hand.

The next shift employees came stumbling in, nearly half an hour late. You didn’t have it in you to argue with them about showing up to their shift on time.

If you did that it meant you would have to waste energy to stay here even longer.

Your car thankfully rumbled to life when you turned the key. It was a piece of junk, something that Eddie had helped you fix up when you bought it from a sketchy guy you met at the hideout. You needed something of your own so you didn’t have to rely on your grandma, Wayne or Eddie to drive you around anymore.

It felt good to have some independence. If you wanted to just go out and get a late night snack alone you could. Not that that ever happened because it was like Eddie had sixth sense for the moment you started your car. As soon as you turned the key he would be running out his trailer door and diving into your passenger seat.

You wondered if maybe he’d want to go get something tonight. You knew he had Hellfire but it should have already ended so he’d be home around the same time as you.

The car bounced with a squeak as you hit the gravel drive of the trailer park. You looked at the trailer across from yours and the spot was empty. He wasn’t home yet but he would be soon.

You parked beside your grandma's car, knowing that she was probably up watching some late night talk shows in the living room.

You decided to wait for him. You leaned against your car, knowing for sure that some of the dust was rubbing onto the back of your black jeans. You didn’t have enough energy in you to care about the dirt or butt print being left on your car. That was what soap and water were for.

You lit a cigarette and took a puff. Smoking was a habit you had picked up since working at the gas station. Eddie hated it. Apparently only one of you was allowed to destroy your lungs with something other than weed.

The way he pouted everytime you lit one up was enough to quit smoking after three months. You were gonna surprise him, hand over your lighter tonight with a promise to your best friend to never touch a cigarette again in your life.

You heard loud music before you saw him. You smiled to yourself softly. The neighbors hated the way Eddie drove and how loud his music was. They had complained time and time again to not only Wayne and Eddie but also you. Like you had some sort of control over what he did.

You couldn’t blame them for being pissed. It was late and it felt like the gravel was vibrating beneath your feet from how loud that guitar solo squealing in the air was.

The yellow headlights flashed as he turned into the drive, gravel flying and a cloud of smoke following the van.

You pushed yourself up from the side of your car, patting your pockets to make sure you still had your money and lighter.

The van jolted to a stop and you watched as Eddie’s door swung open and he hopped out with his arms swinging around dramatically. Typical.

You started walking across to him, twirling the lighter in your hand. You opened your mouth, ready to ask if he wanted a late night Benny’s run or maybe to that 24 hour fast food place right outside of town.

What you weren’t expecting was to see the passenger door open also and Chrissy Cunningham step out. She was in her cheer uniform, a bouncy ponytail in her strawberry blonde hair. She was gorgeous, even under the flickering, yellow lighting of the lamp that hung above her head.

You knew what Eddie had thought about her even though he had never said it explicitly. Plenty of late night talks turned into him mentioning the one time she was nice to him in middle school. You always wanted to shake him, tell him all the times that you had complimented him. But your compliments had never stuck as much as hers did.

You were able to read between the lines when it came to Eddie. You had the sense to know what he was feeling about her even if he never said it.

You froze, gravel rolling underneath your sneakers as you watched her get out and look around nervously.

Eddie heard your feet slide against the gravel and he turned to look at you. His eyes grew wide as he saw the look on your face.

You didn’t know how to describe the feelings you were feeling. It felt like someone had taken your heart out of your body and beat it with a baseball bat with nails sticking out of it. It felt like cold water had been poured down your spine and it made your body react, shivering as you wrapped your arms around yourself to hold yourself together. It felt like you were going to shatter, fall apart and get mixed in with the gravel. They would never find all of the pieces of you to be able to fully put you back together after this.

You thought back to prom and the promise you had made to yourself.

You swallowed, standing up straighter and giving a small wave to Eddie and Chrissy as she approached him.

You heard Eddie say something to her softly as you turned on your heels, walking quickly back to your trailer.

“Hey!” Eddie called as he jogged to catch up with you. “You okay?”

He reached out and touched your arm. You could feel the searing of his touch through your light jacket and all the way to your heated skin.

You didn’t know why you were reacting this way. You just wanted to get in the shower and wash it away, pretend that they weren’t over in the trailer across from you alone. Maybe you should get in your car and drive around town until the sun breaks the sky. How many hours would that be? Six? Seven? You could do that.

You jerked your arm away, meaner than you intended. Eddie looked hurt, wide eyed as he stared at you.

You were embarrassed by the way you were acting and it was even more reason to get away. You fumbled with the door handle.

“She’s just buying from me,” Eddie explained.

He didn’t need to explain because he had no reason to. You had no reason to react this way. It was you. You were the problem here, not Eddie.

You looked up at him taking in the worried expression on his face, the furrow of his brows, the indent formed just above his nose, and the grim set of his mouth. You wanted to reach out and smooth his face, ease his pain even though it was you that was hurting.

“Okay. That’s nice. I’m gonna go and get some food or something,” you said, proud of yourself with how unbothered you sounded. Eddie’s frown just deepened.

“Why don’t you wait? It won't be long and we can drop her back off and go get something when I’m done,” he said, an arm sneaking up and wrapping around your shoulder. You melted a little then, pressing into him. You were close to each other, closer than usual. The last time your faces were this close together was when you were dancing at prom. You pushed down that memory.

You weren’t sure what to do with his nearness so you started to try to unravel a piece of his hair that was stuck to one of the pins on his vest.

Eddie smiled at that, relaxing a little at the mundaneness of the task.

Eddie went to speak again when Chrissy called his name with a trembling voice from across the lot.

He cursed under his breath and shot you an apologetic look. “I’m gonna go make some money and then I’m all yours for the rest of the night. Okay?”

You nodded as he stepped back and with one last look crossed back over to where Chrissy waited for him. You watched as he held the door open to the trailer, saying a joke to make her giggle as she crossed into the threshold.

You found your grandma scrambling away from the living room window when you made it inside. Scrambling might have been too generous of a word. She had been moving a little slower lately, blaming it on the arthritis in her knees. She had been refusing to go to the doctor, stubborn as ever.

She had a pair of binoculars in her hand, pretending to be inspecting a spot on the carpet.

“Were you spying?” You sputtered.

“Hm? Me? No.” She didn’t even try to come up with an excuse, knowing that she had been caught.

You rolled your eyes with a little laugh. Your grandma always had to know the trailer park business and not even you and Eddie were immune to that.

“I’m gonna be in my room. Eddie’s coming over in a second so we can go get food,” you called as you walked back into your room. You fell onto the bed, willing yourself not to fall asleep.

Your bedroom window faced the front of Eddie’s trailer and you reasoned with yourself not to peek out the window like your grandma and wait for him to come out. You sighed and rolled over on your side instead, facing the wall.

You felt your eyes start to grow heavy and shut. You weren’t sure how long you were out for when you heard the screaming.

You jumped out of bed, stumbling and dizzy from suddenly waking up. You shoved the blinds to the side, bending one of the pieces to see Eddie being dragged out of his trailer by some guys in varsity jackets.

You didn’t realize you were rushing out the door until you heard your grandma screaming behind you to stay inside.

You weren’t quick enough to shield Eddie from the first blow. Or any of the hits after that.

Chrissy cried and screamed at Jason to stop but he wasn’t listening. You knew it wasn’t a fair fight. There were too many of them against Eddie. Each time he tried to get up they would just push him back down.

Jason was wild with a crazed look in his eye as he attacked Eddie brutally. Two of his friends held Eddie down by his arms while Jason hit and kicked with no care in the world. Other members of the basketball team circled and cheered while you watched your best friend, the one person in the world you would give your life for, bleed into the dirt.

You dove into the mess of things, ignoring Chrissy’s pleas for you to stay out of it. One of them grabbed you, laughing as he dragged you back away from Eddie. You made eye contact with Eddie from where he laid on the ground and fire flew in his eyes when he realized one of them was touching you.

The fighting felt like it had gone on for hours instead of only a couple of minutes. It was like time had slowed dramatically to a crawl, making everything more painful.

His assailants mocked and laughed at him. Eddie ignored them, his eyes were focused only on the one basketball player holding you as threats flew out of Eddie’s mouth at him.

He thrashed and bucked, doing his best to break free from his restraint. They held onto him tighter when the sound of a loud bang in the air had everyone freezing.

Everyone turned to the sound and you were horrified to see your grandma in her nightgown and slippers at the foot of your trailer steps with her shotgun in her hands.

“Get the hell out of here!” She yelled, positioning the shotgun again.

You and Eddie were frozen while the rest of the group scrambled to the cars that were parked haphazardly around Eddie’s trailer. Jason grabbed Chrissy by the wrist, dragging her with him. You wanted to stop him, to pull her away from him but you knew it would start another fight that Eddie would be the victim of. You’d have to find a way to check in on her tomorrow.

Engines revved as they flew out of the trailer park, bits of gravel flying. A rock kicked off one of the tires and hit the side of Eddie’s vans with a crack.

You didn’t wait for their tail lights to disappear before you were crouched down beside him, checking to see how badly he was hurt.

His nose and mouth were bloody and there was a split on his lip. His skin around his right eye was already turning purple. It would blossom into a nasty bruise tomorrow.

He groaned as he sat up, clutching his side.

“You okay?” Your grandma yelled, still standing where you last saw her with the gun tight in her grip.

Eddie gave a single thumbs up as he pushed himself off the ground, wobbling slightly.

You went to wrap an arm around him to support him but he shook his head as he limped across the drive to your trailer instead of his own.

You followed him silently, making sure both locks on the front door were secure. Your grandma disappeared into her room, giving you both some privacy.

You found him with his backside leaned up against the bathroom sink, waiting for you with his arm crossed against his chest. You grabbed the first aid kit from the shelf above the toilet and set it on the lid, rummaging through it to find what you needed.

You stood in front of him, chest pressed against chest with how little room you had. Eddie winced as you started wiping at his skin with the cleaner.

“Don’t you ever do that again,” he said through gritted teeth and you couldn’t tell if the bite in his voice was from the pain or his anger.

“Do what?” you asked, avoiding eye contact as you wiped at his skin some more.

His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist to stop your movements. You looked up at him finally as he stared down darkly at you. His knuckles were cracked and changing colors from the few hits he was able to get in.

“Don’t you ever jump into a fight like that ever again.”

“But they were hurting you,” you explained. He should know. He should know that you wouldn’t be able to watch him get hurt without jumping in to try to save him. It was like that time those kids were being mean to him at the park when you were younger.

You jumped in then and you would jump in now.

“I don’t care if they’re fucking killing me. You don’t do that ever again. If something happened to you…” Eddie trailed off, eyes focusing on the wall behind you with a far out look.

“Okay,” you whispered to make him happy. It was a lie. You’d dive into trouble for him a million times over if it meant keeping him safe. Even if it killed you in the process of saving him.

He released your wrist with a nod, and you went back to tending his wounds.

You were angry. Not only that this had happened to him but that there would be no justice. No cop in this town would listen to Eddie. And if either of you tried it would just bring unwanted attention to the way he made his money.

Wayne was going to be so pissed when he got home in the morning and heard what happened.

“I don’t think they’re that bad,” you said about his wounds when the silence grew too heavy and the ringing in your ears too loud.

Eddie wasn’t listening though, the wheels were still turning in his head. You wondered what he was thinking about but you were too afraid to ask him.

“I’m gonna fucking show them,” Eddie finally said, his voice dark and determined.

“Show who what?”

“Everyone. This whole damn town. I’m gonna get out of here and prove them all wrong,” he declared, finally looking at you with wide eyes.

You wanted to tell him that he never had to prove anything to you. That you knew who he was and what he was capable of. That you were his biggest fan and you would cheer for him no matter what he did.

You wanted to say that, but you couldn’t. So, you just nodded your head instead and finished cleaning him up.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson series #eddie munson angst #rockstar!eddiemunson x actress!reader #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie munson

194 notes · View notes

vanwritesfan-fiction · 2 months

Text

I've Got A Crush On You

A WMCJ!Jeremy x Reader Fic

Soundtrack: Crush On You- Lil' Kim

The last thing Jeremy wants to do right now is teach a team of 12-year-olds how to play basketball, but when he finds out that the nephew of his gym crush is on his team and practically a basketball prodigy, he'll do anything to get him as a client, especially if it means getting to spend more time with you.

Word Count:

Warnings: language, some shameless flirting and objectification of women

"Dude, you've gotta get a new car. This shits a piece of junk." Jeremy slammed the door of Kamal's pale blue 1995 Honda Accord, the squeak of the hinges piercing his ear drums. "Man, shut up", Kamal sucked in his teeth at Jeremy as he hopped out of the driver's seat, a puff of black exhaust billowing out behind the car. "This is all 'Ni and I can afford right now, and last time I checked, it got your ass around LA just fine. Not everyone can drive Daddy's Porsche. Oh wait." He clamped a hand sarcastically over his mouth with wide eyes, chuckling at the look of hurt on Jeremy's face.

The brunette was quick to straighten up. "First of all, it wasn't my daddy's Porsche, it was Tatiana's daddy's Porsche", Kamal gave him a lazy roll of his eyes as he threw his gym bag over his shoulder, "and second, we broke up months ago, why do you keep bringing it up?"

"Because you call me at least once a week, tellin' me how much you miss her!" Jeremy quickly closed the distance between him, his face in a scowl, voice just above a whisper. "I told you that in confidence, man."

Kamal matched his tone, "Well, I wish you wouldn't tell me nothing at all." He was there for his friend during his breakup, but what Jeremy considered a "healthy processing of emotions", Kamal called "oversharing".

"Besides, I've moved on." Jeremy puffed out his chest, trying to appear as confident as possible. "I've met someone else."

"Oh right. Ms. Flexible." Kamal teased in a sing-song voice as he rested a forearm on the hood of the car. Jeremy wouldn't shut up about this "baddie" (his words) that he saw at the gym he frequented, and you would think Halle Berry was showing up in spandex every week, the way he talked about her.

"Put some respect on her name, man. It's Y/N. I took-well I snuck into- one of her yoga classes at the gym, and she is-", he let out a whistle in awe, "I left her class feeling so Zen." Jeremy wasn't any more limber than before the class started, but he sure was in love. "So what now, you wanna "align her chakras" or something?" Jeremy quickly got the innuendo with a suggestive raise of Kamal's eyebrows.

Jeremy let out a sigh, shaking his head. "Why do I feel like you don't take the ancient and complex, spiritual practice known as yoga, seriously?" You could insult his taste in women, but you couldn't insult his lifestyle.

"Because I don't." Kamal let out a hearty chuckle, but Jeremy was stone faced, failing to find the humor in his joke. "Come on, man. We're gonna be late."

Kamal didn't enjoy stepping foot in his old high school, the memories from his his fall from grace senior year forever in the front of his mind. The only reason he was spending his Saturday in this gym he used to call his second home, was to honor a promise he made to an old friend.

"So where are these prospects you talked about?" Jeremy set his NPR tote bag down the bleachers, surveying the inhabitants of the gym. "There's nothing but some old guys and some kids here, man."

"About that..." Kamal's breath hitched in his chest. He hadn't been forthcoming with Jeremy about what they were doing today, because he knew there was no way he'd come if he knew the truth.

"Kamal Allen?" Kamal turned to see his high school best friend Chris Williams walking up behind him, a bag of basketballs in his hands. "Chris, what's going on man?", Kamal asked as he pulled him into a hug. "How long has it been?" Kamal knew exactly how many years it'd been. There were times when he wanted to reach out Chris, but didn't out of shame and embarrassment for how he left things.

Chris chuckled, "Five years, I guess. How's Imani and the baby?"

"He's not a baby anymore. Drew just turned four."

"Damn, time really does fly I guess." Their was a painful silence between the old friends, so Jeremy stepped in. "I'm Jeremy. I've actually got my own business", he slipped a business card to Chris, who reluctantly took it, a blank look on his face, "I mold basketball players into the the next NBA star with my patented, well it will be eventually, shooting drills and techniques." He gave Chris his signature smile, the elevator pitch committed to memory. "I'm gonna need that back by the way. I only have the one."

"Okay", Chris handed Jeremy back the business card with a confused look on his face, Kamal silently signaled to ignore him. "Anyways, thanks for coming down today. I know these kids are a little misguided, but with some good coaching, especially from one of the best players in our school's history, they can get on the right track."

That caught Jeremy's interest. "I'm sorry, what did you say about kids?" He looked between Kamal and Chris, waiting for an explanation. "You said we were working with prospects headed for the draft, K."

"We are", Kamal avoided eye contact, "I just didn't say what year the draft was."

"Look, these kids are from some rough neighborhoods around L.A. They come here to feel safe, appreciated, and stay off the streets. I need some help getting them together though, I can't coach them on my own." Kamal gave Jeremy a pleading look but he wasn't budging.

"No! Look, that kid is picking his nose", the trio swung their heads to look around, catching a tall, scrawny boy wiping a booger on his mesh jersey, all three groaning in disgust, "and that kid looks like a newborn giraffe." Another kid was having trouble staying upright while he was trying to dribble the ball. "Besides, kids through off my energy. I can't do this." Jeremy collected his things, taking a quick swig of his green juice before throwing it in the bag. "I'll be in the car."

"He made it a couple of steps towards the door before Chris stopped him. "Did I mention the job pays?"

"Alright, everybody round up." Jeremy took in the group of boys in front of him, and realized there wasn't an ounce of talent between them. "This is Kamal and Jeremy, they're gonna help out the team."

"Help?!" Kamal shot a look at a kid with a high-top fade reminiscent of the 80s, couldn't haven been more than five feet tall. "What's an old man and Bob Ross gonna do for this team?" The team snickered and laughed at the joke.

"Bob Ross? You're lucky I don't believe in confrontation or..." Jeremy warned, a scowl on his face.

"Or what? You'd paint me a pretty landscape?" The kid shot back, and Jeremy forgot he was a peaceful soul for a second.

"Alright, that's enough Isaiah", Chris cut in. "This is Isaiah Thompson, our point guard." Isaiah flexed, earning a chuckle from Kamal and Jeremy. "What's so funny? I average 15 points a game. They call me Swisher, because I always make that net swish", he held up his hand in the follow through position, his teammates cheering for him.

"Well "Swisher", they should call you Swiffer, because y'all get swept every game." Kamal's tone was laced with sarcasm. He didn't like going toe to toe with kids, but he was asking for it.

"That's rich coming from you", the tall nose picker stepped in, "last time I checked, you weren't exactly holding any records lately. My dad went to high school the same time you did, and he said you blew your scholarship and now you deliver packages." Kamal's jaw flexed. Somehow, the story of his misgivings had been passed down through generations. He stepped to the kid in a moment of anger, but Jeremy was quick to hold him back. "He isn't worth it." He whispered, and Kamal composed himself.

"That's enough! Now, Kamal is still a legend at this school, and we're gonna show him some respect." Chris let out a sigh. "If we want to be taken seriously at this year's tournament, we need to buckle down and get back to the fundamentals."

"What about white boy over there?" Isaiah pointed in Jeremy's direction. "You don't need to worry about that white boy", Kamal palmed a basketball as he spoke, "he's one of the best shooters I've seen."

"Not with those shoes", Isaiah snickered. Jeremy looked down and wiggled his toes in his custom barefoot shoes. "What's wrong with my shoes? Studies have shown it's better for your body to connect with the ground."

"Its giving...broke." Another kid chimed in from the back of the group, sending the boys into a roaring laughter.

"The only thing its giving is me upper cutting a little kid today!" Jeremy lunged at the kid, Kamal stepping in with a hard push to his chest, making him stumble back. "Watch out everyone, Bob Ross is angry!" Isaiah teased, bellowing with laughter.

"Remember what you said? He's not worth it." Kamal patted Jeremy's shoulder reassuringly, this time the reasonable one. "I'm good. I'm good." Jeremy said with a hard breath out of his nostrils.

The sound of the gym door screeching as it opened made both of them turned. "Dude, you've gotta be kidding me." Jeremy couldn't help the smile that crept on his face when he noticed who walked in.

You were even prettier than Jeremy remembered, and he'd spent a lot of time the last couple of weeks thinking about you. You were out of your usual matching gym set, instead wearing scrubs, and he almost lost it at the thought that you were a nurse.

"Isn't that-?" Kamal pointed over to you, and Jeremy quickly slapped his hand down. "Yes it is. What the hell is she doing here?"

"She's probably here to provide medical assistance if you keep getting killed by these kid's jokes." Kamal let out a humorous breath as he looked over at Jeremy who was in a trance, tracking your every step as you made your way to the bleachers. "You think so? I'd like to get some CPR from those lips."

Kamal shoved his friend, shaking him out of his daydream. "No man. She doesn't even know you exist. One of these gremlins is probably her kid or something." He tossed the basketball to Jeremy, who caught it without dropping his gaze toward you. "Are you coming, man?"

"Yeah, yeah. One second." Jeremy dropped the ball and waved Kamal away. He didn't know if he was gonna get a second chance to have your undivided attention, so he was gonna take advantage of the moment.

You shot off a text and looked up just as Jeremy approached you, planting one of his feet on the bleachers, and leaning in uncomfortably close to you. He was cute, messy curls, a smile that could be used on a dentistry advertisement. His wardrobe, an old tie dye t-shirt that was ripped at the collar and hem paired with basketball shorts and those weird individual toe shoes, was a bit off putting, but you had to admire him being true to his own style.

"Sorry, this is a closed practice", Jeremy said with a smirk. "Oh, sorry! I had no idea", you uttered, quickly collecting your things. "I'm just kidding", Jeremy grabbed your arm gently to stop you from walking away. You glanced down at his hand, making him retract it. "I'm Jeremy. I've taken your yoga class over at Hurston, I'm a big fan." He extended a hand out to you, which you took hesitantly.

"Y/N. I didn't know I had fans", your brow knitted together with a smile, "thank you, I guess?" Jeremy chuckled as you tipped your head to the side. "Yeah, I've never seen anyone hold Warrior II like you do." God, he was rusty as hell at flirting after being with Tatiana so long. He could physically feel the charisma draining from his body. "So are you here waiting for your boyfriend or something?" Jeremy knocked his head back in the direction of some senior citizens going through the motions of a Tai Chi class in the corner.

"Oh no", you grimaced, "hell no, uh I usually pick my nephew up from practice, and I got off of work early, so I thought I'd save myself the drive to Inglewood and just wait until he's finished. He's the shy one over in the corner, Mattias." Jeremy noticed the kid with tight curls atop his head dribbling the ball through his legs. He was honestly impressed with his handling skills.

" Are you one of the coaches?" You noticed the basketball that Jeremy was nervously tossing between his hands as you talked.

"Yeah, you know kids are really my passion. Anything to help", Jeremy was lying through his teeth, but you didn't need to know that. "Children are the future, you know?"

You spent the next 15 minutes talking with Jeremy, and you could admit that he was as funny as he was cute. There was something undeniably charming about him, and the way he spoke so passionately about his business, even if it was a gimmicky juicing endeavor, was endearing.

"Hey, Richard Simmons", Isaiah yelled from across the court, "if you're done bombing over there, we need another person for 5 on 5!" Jeremy cursed under his breath with a roll of his eyes, before turning back to you with a smile. "I'd really love to talk more, but duty calls."

"Yeah, go, go, I understand." You said with a giggle as he jumped off the bleachers and jogged to back to the team. "How the hell does he even know who Richard Simmons is?", Jeremy mumbled under his breath.

To say that the team needed work would be an understatement. Most of the players couldn't even catch the ball without jamming a finger or getting the wind knocked out of them, and dribbling without a travel call was a pipe dream at this point. They could count on one hand the number of shots that made it into the basket during layups. The only player with a little bit of natural talent was Mattias. In fact, he could probably play on JV at his age, and both Kamal and Jeremy noticed how flawless his shot was.

"Are you seeing this?", Kamal whispered to Jeremy, who nodded without needing any other context. "He's good. For 12, he's great. He's Y/N's nephew." Jeremy looked back at you. You were intently watching the team play, and gave Jeremy a small wave, feeling your stomach flip as he returned one back to you. "What's up with that?" Even Kamal could tell there was a spark between the two of you. "All I know man, is when I look at her, my stomach drops into my ass." Jeremy's voice cracked as he spoke.

"Is that a good thing?", Kamal asked with a slightly disgusted face. Jeremy looked just as confused as he did. "I don't know man. I don't know." They both jumped as Chris blew the whistle, the sound echoing through the gym. "Let's get one more scrimmage in before we go home."

"Mattias, take point." Kamal tossed the timid kid the ball, but he caught it with ease. "I'm point guard." Isaiah complained, "Matti's too scared to even shoot the ball."

"No I'm not!", Matti threw back with a frown on his face. "Yes you are. Last game you choked, we could've won!" Isaiah was ever the instigator. "Y'all lost that game by 20." Kamal retorted, waving the paper schedule he had in his hand in the air.

"Yeah, but we could have lost by 18 instead."

Kamal sighed. "It doesn't matter, I'm the coach, and I say Mattias is running point. Now run the play." It ran more like a traffic jam than the play Kamal drew up for them to run, and it was only a matter of seconds before one of the kids missed the pass and the ball went flying into the bleachers.

"Mattias, you need to look where you're passing. Make sure you make eye contact with your teammate before you pass." Kamal ran through the motions before passing the ball back. "Jer, get on the wing." When he didn't move, Kamal looked over to see that Jeremy was practically drooling over you from afar, his back completely turned away from the basket. "Jeremy!"

Hearing his name called a second time caught his attention. "Sorry, man. She's just so beautiful."

"Man, get on the wing", Kamal growled. Jeremy jogged over his spot, but he couldn't take his eyes off you. He wondered what you smelled like, what kind of perfume you wore, what you dreamt about at night. He felt the ball whoosh past his head, but it couldn't tear his attention away from you.

He was so zoned in on you, in fact, he didn't realize the next basketball pass hit him so hard in the head, it knocked him out cold, his body falling to the ground.

"Jeremy. Jeremy, can you hear me?"

Jeremy's eyelashes fluttered rapidly as he came to, and while he couldn't see clearly, he could make out blurry figures hovering over him, muffled voices coming in and out. The first voice to come in clearly was a woman's voice.

"Jeremy, if you can here me, please squeeze my hand." The voice was soft and sweet, like something out of one of his dreams. He gently squeezed the silky soft hand in his grasp, allowing his eyelids to slowly open. "Is this heaven?" He could make out your soft silhouette as the lights got brighter around his head.

You let out a quiet giggle as you moved out of the way so Kamal could check on his friend. When Jeremy's vision was fully returned, he groaned at the sight of Kamal's face in front of his. "No man, this is Compton, not Heaven." He helped Jeremy sit up, and you handed him an ice pack for the ever growing bump on his temple.

"Are you okay?", you gave him a sympathetic smile with a pat on the shoulder. You could tell he was embarrassed, his cheeks and neck a bright pink.

"You should have seen it, the ball hit you in the head, and you went flying. Knocked out cold!", Isaiah exclaimed with a laugh.

"Shut up", Jeremy mumbled, letting out a groan as the pain from the impact finally hit him; his face felt like one giant oncoming bruise. You pulled out the pen light you had in your scrub pocket. "Can you follow the light for me?" Jeremy squinted as you shined the bright light in his eyes but his pupils were receptive. "Well, I don't think you have a concussion, but you should definitely take it easy for the next couple of days."

"Thanks, I'm glad you were here." Jeremy gave you a small smile. "Sorry you had to come to my rescue."

"Don't worry, it comes with the territory." You showed him your nursing badge that was still clipped to your collar. "Here, hand me your phone." Jeremy pulled his phone out of his bag and handed it to you. You put your phone number in his contacts. "Call me if any of your symptoms get worse, and if you start to smell toast, call an ambulance." You gave him one last smile before heading out of the gym with Mattias.

"Wait, so you get a ball to the head, and you still managed to get Ms. Flexible's number?" Kamal playfully shoved Jeremy in the arm. "She gave it to me for emergencies, not to ask her out on a date." Jeremy wanted nothing more then to go on a date with you, but he didn't want to exploit your kindness either.

"Trust me man, I saw you drooling over her. This is definitely an emergency."

That night, Jeremy wore a path in his carpet pacing back and forth in his apartment. He was trying anything to calm his nerves: herbal tea, meditation, even Ashwaganda, but that just made him horny and made it more difficult to hold off on calling you. Kamal wasn't any help either, edging him on as they drove back to their side of town.

He stared at your number in his phone contacts for so long, he had them committed to memory. Maybe he could just pretend that his symptoms had gotten worse. Yeah, maybe he did have a concussion, and while he was sure you'd advise him to go to the doctor, it would at least give him an in.

Fuck it, he was gonna call you.

The phone rang four times before you picked up, the sound of the TV in the background.

"Hello?"

Jeremy cleared his throat, feeling it go dry. The first word came out in a croak. "Hello, this is Jeremy. From earlier today. You know the one that got hit with the basketball?"

You stifled a laugh as you straightened up on your couch. "Jeremy, yeah. Are you okay? How's your head?" You'd been thinking about him all day, hoping that you'd get to see him again, but you honestly weren't expecting to hear from him that night.

"Its okay. Still a little dizzy when I stand up too quickly, but I took your advice and I've been taking it easy. I actually made one of my recovery smoothies tonight, and I can swear its helping." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, waiting for you to speak.

"That's good, I'm glad you're doing okay." You allowed a pause, not really sure what he wanted. "Is there something else you wanted to talk about?"

It was now or never. You were the first person after Tatiana that he actually saw as more as a rebound hookup. He wanted to do this right.

"Actually, I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner tomorrow?" He immediately began to panic as soon as the words came out of his mouth. "I've know this vegan restaurant that has farm to table ingredients." He slapped a hand to his forehead in embarrassment. Good job, Jeremy. If she didn't think you were a weirdo before, he definitely did now.

He perked up as you began to speak. "That actually sounds really nice. I would love to go to dinner with you, Jeremy."

"One second." Jeremy punched the mute button so you wouldn't hear him run around his apartment in excitement, punching the air. He plopped back down on his couch, taking a second to compose himself and catch his breath before he pressed unmute. "Sounds good. 8'o'clock?"

"That's perfect. See you tomorrow."

Jeremy hung up his phone, and placed it on the coffee table as reality started to set in. This was the first date he was going on in five years. He really needed it to go well.

He needed it to go fuckin' perfect.

Tag-List:

@jacks-daycare

@livsters

@katiaw2

@xangelonmyshoulderx

@thatonegirlthatlikesthings

@j0hkiya

@bell3e

@isisosidixj

@caroline334

@lightsoutstyles

@hufflewhore128

@jackscurlyhair

@jackharloww

@brixo

@beautiifulpeople312

@bernelflo

@taniapri

@ageofthebarbarians

@honeyharlows

@aga21

@iheartharlow

@neon-lights-and-glitter

@w1ldthoughts

@jackslilsecrett

@harlowcomehome

@fantasywritersstuff

@exoticr0ses

@iknowdatsrightbih

@itsyagirljaz

@hoodharlow

@bobthe-turmpetman29

@wittyjasontodd

@purecinnamonextract

@fluidsentiment

@jacksuberdriver

#jack harlow #jackman thomas harlow #jackharlow #jackman harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic

138 notes · View notes

fw00shy · 7 months

Text

Accio is the only spell I know

part 2 of Slow Days, Bad Habits because I wanted to know what happened next

When Draco took someone home in LA, there was no cobblestone path, no chirpy doormat to prime guests as they walked up to his door. Instead, they entered through the garage and walked past the shelves of ancestral junk straight into his living room, where he forgot to clean up the takeaway from last night. It felt a bit like exposing all his guts to a stranger, and Draco blushed, plucking a fortune cookie wrapper from the carpet while Harry was distracted by a set of photographs hung up on the wall.

"You were so young in these," Harry said. He pointed to the one in the middle. "This is from first year, yeah? When you had your hair slicked back like a helmet."

"I'll never forgive Mother for that haircut," Draco said. He peered over Harry's shoulder and shivered with disgust. He wished he'd never been that boy.

"Oh come on," Harry turned, grinning. "It wasn't so bad. I thought it looked rather fetching, actually."

Draco raised a brow. "Really?"

"Really — well, I'd never met someone so blond in my life before. The perpetual sneer, however —"

"Let's not talk about the past," Draco said. He crossed the living room to the kitchen, his fingers drumming over the wine rack. "Cabernet? Pinot? Or, I've got a chard in the ice box —"

"Any will do," Harry said. He'd followed him into the kitchen and pulled out a chair from the little table in there.

"Oh," Draco said, watching Harry sit down at the scratched up table. Harry's skin looked sallow under the harsh lighting. Draco had thought they'd be in the living room — he hadn't thought — if he had known, he'd bought better lighting for the kitchen. He hadn't thought this through at all, this was a mistake, truly —

"Is everything alright?" Harry asked.

"Sure," Draco said. "Sure, let me just pop the cork—" he took out his wand — "Accio!"

The wand flew across the room and hit Harry between the eyes. Draco watched with horror as the spot welted up and reddened an increasingly concerning shade of crimson.

"If you were trying to kill me —" Harry started, rather churlishly.

"I wasn't!"

"— you missed. Again." Then he laughed and Accio'd the wine to himself, where he drank it straight out of the bottle.

"That's disgusting," Draco said, but he took the bottle and swigged when Harry offered it back.

"It's lonely in LA," Harry said. He sighed, sinking into the chair. "I've been here four years and nobody knows who I am, which is great for the most part, but then there are moments when I feel — I feel like a part of me's gone missing. Like I look in the mirror and I can't remember who I used to be." He looked over at Draco. "I'm not like you." He smiled. "I change wherever I go. You haven't changed at all."

Draco tensed. "Let's not talk about —"

"The past, I know, I know," Harry said. "Say, you go to that farmer's market a lot?"

"Every week," Draco said.

"Even when it's raining?"

"It never rains here. That's the best part about LA. Sunshine every day whether you're up for it or not."

"And you like the sun?"

Draco wrinkled his nose. "Not really, no."

"You really haven't changed," Harry chuckled.

Draco frowned. "I don't know why you keep saying that."

"Saying what?"

"Saying that I haven't changed. That's — I don't like that. I've changed. I'm not Draco Malfoy anymore—"

"You've changed your name?"

"What? No. You know what I mean. I'm not the same boy who — who was a bully and a snob —"

"Still a bit of a snob. Not that I mind." He raised the bottle. "Snobs serve great wine."

"Are you even listening to me, Potter?"

Harry tipped back in his chair and grinned. "You really haven't changed a bit."

"Look here, Potter, I'm trying to apologise and —"

"Apology accepted," Harry said.

Draco blinked. "What?"

"Besides," Harry continued. "I think you've got my words all mixed up. Which, again — typical Malfoy behaviour. What I mean is you're still the same inside. You've changed your mind but not yourself. Even if you believe different things now — better things, in my opinion — you're still a posh git."

Relief spread warm across Draco's chest. "So you don't hate me?"

"No, on the contrary. Being here's the first time I've felt at home in a long time. And you've still got that —" He blushed, looking away.

"Got what?"

" — nevermind."

"Tell me."

"No, I —" Harry's blush deepened. "It's a secret."

"I can keep a secret," Draco said. He lowered his voice. "Whisper it in my ear."

"Okay," Harry said. He leaned forward, cupping Draco's ear with his hand, his breath hot. "You've still got that cute dimple in your cheek."

Draco sat up, his hands flying to his burning cheeks. "Merlin!" he squeaked. Then he asked, maybe a little too eagerly, "Really?"

"You're so funny," Harry said. "Really."

"I've got a secret too," Draco said.

"Whisper it to me," Harry said, offering up his ear.

"Okay," Draco said. He scooched their chairs closer, his hand on Harry's thigh as he leaned in and said, "You haven't changed either. You still drive me insane."

Harry's eyes squinted in confusion. "So does that mean—"

Draco kissed him on the nose. Then he pressed their mouths together, his hands on Harry's waist.

"I never know what you mean," Harry said, breaking away with a ragged breath. "At least, not at first."

Draco closed his eyes and breathed against Harry's neck. He thought about what Harry said, about how he'd changed his mind but not himself. Why had he spent so many years denying who he used to be? That Draco who made those mistakes was the same Draco who learned from them. One could not exist without the other. Was that so bad?

"But do you know what I mean now?" Draco asked.

"Yes," Harry said. "Do you?"

"Yes," Draco said. Harry's arms came up around Draco. Draco sighed, pulling him in closer. And in that moment, he finally felt like himself again.

#drarry #drarry squad #fwoosh writes #drarrymicrofic #drarry microfic #not sure how micro this is anymore #consider it's 1k #but it has major micro spirit???

128 notes · View notes

seris-circle · 1 year

Text

My Humps

Drew Starkey x femreader

Summary: on his way back from a meeting, Drew finds y/n having a little party.

Warnings: swearing, pregnancy, fluff

—————————————————————————

“Whatcha gon' do with all that junk. All that junk inside that trunk?” Is the first thing Drew hears as he opens the front door. He continued to follow the music to the source, leading him to the kitchen where he found you singing along and dancing. He began recording while trying to keep his laughter hidden behind a tight-knit smile.

“My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump My hump, my hump, my hump, my lovely li-” you’re cut off when you turn around and realize that Drew is standing there. You cue the alexa to shut off and turn your attention to your fiance.

“Hey babe, didn’t know you were standing there,” you said, sounding a bit out of breath. It wasn’t a surprise since you were now 7 months pregnant. You walked up to him, stepping on your toes to reach for a kiss.

“Oh, don’t let me stop you. I liked the little concert.” He said after you pulled away.

“Yeah, just got a burst of energy and decided to clean.” You smiled. “The music just got me going I guess and distracted me from the task at hand” you continued pointing at the still full sink of dishes. You attempted to walk back to the sink but drew trapped you by wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

“You didn’t have to clean, I would’ve done it when I got back” drew responded, nestling his chin on your shoulder and rubbing the bump. He said that because he promised the night before to take care of it because you’ve been feeling sick almost this whole trimester but also because he may feel slightly guilty too. Drew would be leaving for Italy to film for his new movie in a couple days, leaving you alone and pregnant for the next two months. You’ve been ordered for bed rest due to difficulty during the final trimester so far, so going to another country was out of the question. He didn’t know how he was going to do it; being in a different country away from his fiancé, the woman carrying his child, long enough that she could go into labor while he was away. But they have talked it through a dozen times to relieve the stress of the two. You weren't due until the middle of July and drew would be finished by 4th of July, the following week if anything. Your mom is already coming to LA in June, so you won’t be alone and drew already made sure with the directors to leave on the first plane out of Italy at any word of you having contractions, real or not.

“No, I wanted to.” You replied. “I know you said you would last night but this win today felt so refreshing after all the losses the last couple of weeks. I feel alive” you continued, throwing her arms up in the air. Drew released you and you turned to face him.

“You say that now but in a couple hours when little bug here kicks the shit out of you after you just ate another jar of pickles, you are going to be regretting it.” Drew responded , poking your bump. He was right though. Your craving the whole pregnancy has been dill pickles and it has gotten serious, to the point where you’re spending $30 a week on jars. Once you start eating, you can’t stop. Topping a whole jar off in one sitting. Though they were good, the heartburn was crazy. You would feel it rise and the gerd pillow still couldn’t help. It wasn’t until the baby would kick you during this experience that you would get out of bed to chug water. Complaining to drew about how much you are suffering from your own doings would just make him laugh and you get all clingy.

You send him a glare after that remark, “you know what? I think I will stop and let you clean this up just for making that comment.” You said with a cockiness in your tone. He was right which irritated you slightly so you just gave up at this point. “You finish the dishes and make dinner while I burn this energy in another way” you said turning the music back on.

‘Humps’ continued to play and you got back to dancing and singing along. You rubbed your bump to the beat of the part where it was “My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump My lovely lady lumps (lump) My lovely lady lumps my lovely lady lumps (lumps)” You danced in circles around drew, making funny faces to over exaggerate the lyrics. Feeling him up and down as he sat still laughing. As the music kept playing, you got him to join in and you two were dancing in the kitchen. The dishes never got done and you had just ordered takeout instead of drew preparing dinner. You savored moments like this because you knew it would last for a couple of months.

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #obx s3 #Spotify

206 notes · View notes

kayyybenson · 1 year

Text

Desk Duty - Sonny Carisi

I sat at my desk, eating out of a family-sized smart food popcorn bag that Sonny had brought me. It seemed to be the only thing that calmed my pregnancy cravings, that and Soda, any kind, matter of fact, I'll drink whatever is put in front of me. "Y/N, no one is going to steal your popcorn." Amanda joked, causing me to send her a sharp glare. "Okay, point taken, my bad."

"I'd rather be on bed rest than be stuck at this stupid uncomfortable desk." I groaned, throwing the empty bag in the trash. I slowly stood up and waddled to the vending machine to raid it. When it didn't give me what I wanted I violently shook it and kicked it. "Fucking machine!"

"Woah," A familiar voice spoke. "Doll, you should sit down, I'll order you takeout."

"NO! I want junk food!"

"You need to eat balanced meals so the baby is healthy." I swiftly turned to him, I had no idea where this anger was coming from.

"Sonny, you have five seconds to get me my bag of sour patch kids before I break down." There was a moment of silence. "Pleasssseeee." I drawled out, trying to guilt-trip him.

"Carisi, get the girl her sour patch kids before she sets this place on fire." Fin encouraged my childish behavior.

"Doll, you can get your sour patch kids after you eat some actual food, you've been up since 5 am and all you've eaten is popcorn and some old candy you found in our kitchen." I groaned, letting him drag me back to my desk. He placed a whole pile of takeout menus in front of me, "Pick one," I giggled and lifted up a menu that said 'The restaurant'. "Okay, jokester, what do you want?"

"Mhhh, the baby says a salad and ketchup." He nodded and picked up the phone to order.

"I'm glad I'm not the pregnant one," Barba joked, "I'd throw up if I ate that stuff."

"I do throw up. Morning sickness."

"I was like that when I was pregnant with Jessie. Fin thought I had cancer." Upon hearing his name Fin looked up and his jaw dropped.

"Hey, Yo!" I let out a laugh and finished my last sheet of paperwork. Sonny sat the salad on my desk and I immediately started inhaling it.

"She does this at home too. It's to the point where I have to make two meals so she can eat the whole thing." Sonny chuckled. "She ate a whole pan of lasagna last night."

"Guys, we have a homicide, Amanda you stay with Y/N." Olivia walked out of her office, jacket in hand.

"Oh come on! I can't ride with you?"

"No, it's called desk duty for a reason."

"Sonny!" I turned to my husband in hopes he would at least let me out of there.

"Rules are rules." He kissed my forehead. "I'll see you when I get back." I crossed my arms.

"Check your breaks before you leave the lot," I mumbled, just trying to scare him. He stared at me before slowly backing up.

------ DUN DUN ------

Amanda and I were playing card games, trying to pass the time. "Go fish," I mumbled as she groaned and picked up a card. I felt water rush down my leg and splash onto the ground, I brought my legs closer together to hide the mess. "I think I just peed myself."

"Y/N you're in labor!" She moved to grab both of our purses and led me to the car. "I need you to breath." She turned the siren on and started to speed. I let out a pained groan and she reassured me that I'd be okay.

"Call Sonny!"

--- Meanwhile with Sonny:

"Liv, I don't think that's such a good idea." Fin tried to stop the captain from talking to the victim's mother, while I was consoling the father. My phone rang, I ignored it the first two times but answered the third, annoyed.

"What do you need Amanda, I'm busy."

"Too busy to know that your wife is in labor?" I could feel the anger radiating off of her.

"Excuse me?"

"Sonny I'm in labor!" Y/N Now yelled. "The baby is coming and she's coming now!"

"Oh god, we'll be at Mercy Hospital, hurry, I think she's cutting off circulation to my hand!" The line went dead.

"Guys, I have to go. Y/N is in labor, she might kill Amanda if I'm not there soon."

"Go, we'll take it from here and meet you there." I started my car and drove to the hospital.

---- Back to Y/N and Amanda:

I screamed as the contractions got worse. "Just take the damn thing out!"

"I'm sorry ma'am we can't just yet."

"Amanda where is my husband!"

"I'm here doll." Sonny ran into the room and grabbed my hand. "You're doing great baby."

"I want it out!" I yelled again. "Ahhhh!" I screamed once again though this time it was very high-pitched.

"It's coming, push Mrs. Carisi!" I pushed over and over again until I heard crying. "Mr. Carisi, would you like to cut the umbilical cord?"

"Go on." I smiled at him. He rubbed a hand along the side of my face before he went to cut the cord. Once it was tied off and she was cleaned up they handed her to me, I sat up and held her close.

"She has your eyes." I turned to Sonny, who was crying.

"And your nose. She's perfect, little Serenity Carisi." After a while, the rest of the group showed up and swooned over the baby.

"Guys, this is Serenity, Serenity, these are your aunts and uncles." I introduced them.

"Oh wow, she's beautiful." Amanda praised. "Hi, Serenity. She's a mini Y/N."

"Yeah, but she has Carisi's baby blues." Fin pointed out.

"We did good," Sonny jokes around, earning a slap on the arm from Liv.

#law and order svu #svu #sonny carisi #amanda rollins #sonny carisi x reader #Sonny Carisi #Sonny Carisi x you

182 notes · View notes

lesvii · 9 months

Text

Wanted

Steph was in her apartment, this events takes when el sin nombre escapes from her prison jail, but in other circumstances as she looks for somewhere to lay low for a bit.

Original character cause i hate to put Y/N lol.

Also this is a F!reader for now i just feel comfortable writing wlw shit so..

————————————————————————

The door clicks as you open it, Steph was getting out of her third shift from the bar, serving alcohol to drunk and nasty men wasn't an easy job, but hey she got the money. She was so tired from this day, she irradiated a smell of faint tequila from her body, i think some men dropped some on her. Steph just didn't care anymore, getting a shower and getting ready for bed seemed more important than everything by now. As Steph closed the door with her feet, she went and looked for the TV remote in the couches as she found it she turned the TV on, as she didnt care what channel it landed on, she went to get herself a cup of hot water and some herbal tea Steph loved to drink when you felt extra tired. As the noises of the TV mumbles on your head she didn't pay attention to it, her eyelids forced to stay open as she poured the hot water into a cup from her kitchen, she stretched her body to reached the tall drawer up on the wall of her white kitchen to grab the bag of tea, as she pour it into the warm cup. As she grabs the cup to take a small sip, something on the tv catches her attention.

´´Citizens we have an important announcement to make, as you know the biggest drug lord in Las Almas has been captured but in the last 24 hours we been informed that she's now a fugitive, please take precautions, sleep with doors locked, dont go outside alone at this late in the night. As for the military we haven't received any news from them confirming this event.´´

Steph could see a imagine of the said woman appearing on the news, short black hair, brown eyes, intimidate look, she kinda look a little muscular as she find herself staring at El Sin Nombre picture with a smile, she… kinda looked like Steph type honestly, if it weren't for the fact she runs the biggest cartel drug she would for sure into her. Steph looks at the tv unamused brushing it off, probably just the channel wanting to make more views, lately the news has been field with a lot of junk, she grabbed the remote as a call incomes in Steph´s phone.

As Steph looks above her shoulder sitting in the couch she overlooks her phone ringing in the kitchen table behind her, she sighed as she gets up sipping her hot tea leaving it behind a small table besides the couches, she walks to the table as she reads whos calling, as she reads the name she knows its her best friend, what was she doing calling her up this late at night it was past midnight now.

Call Incoming Melanie

´´STEPH– did you saw the news!?¨ Melanie was practically screaming through the phone.

As Steph found her friend's voice irritating she turned the volume a little bit down.

``uh— yeah i guess i just did, what about it?´´She said as she passed through the space of the table to the couch, grabbing her tea as she walked through the kitching resting her body on the kitchen counter.

´´The shit everyone is talking about?!´´ Melanie replies.

´´uhh… elaborate please? I just got off a 12 hour shift. I feel like I can't think straight anymore..``Steph said rubbing her eyes, as she heard a faint giggle from her friend

´´Well i've never seen you think *straight*´´ Melanie said jokingly, as Steph is literally a lesbian.

´´ Haha, you're so funny…No but seriously what about it?´´Steph said as she started to get more curious.

´´The drug lord women???´´ Melanie said practically whispering at the phone, there was a few seconds of silence before Steph spoke again.

´´Oh yeah I heard something about she escaped and shit, but dont worry not even the military base has confirmed anything i'm sure is just fake bullshit´´Steph said as she took a sip of her tea.

It was getting cold by now, all the apartment lights were off and the only source of light was the TV in front of her and the moon shining from a window near the kitchen. There was a faint chuckle on the phone line.

´´ But you know she's kinda hot…´´Steph said giggling on the phone.

´´Oh my god Steph don't even start on this, get your lesbian ass off this WANTED woman and get someone, i was starting to think the guy that came to your apartment the other day was your affair´´.

´´Oh god no– the plumbing guy haha– no of course not… i'm only for women and women only´´. Steph said while she winked on the phone.

´´Hmmm… But you know she's kinda hot i guess´´Melanie said as Steph took a few breaths in and they both burst out laughing, she kinda needed this, Melanie always finds a way to cheer up Steph even in those bad bad days.

´´ I'm telling you… if she came out knocking at my door, the door won't be the only thing open for her´´Steph said chuckling as she whispered the last words. Her and Melanie stayed on line for a few minutes more until the clock hitted at 2:30 A.M. They said their respect goodbyes.

´´Its too late now girl, i should get going… good night dont let the sicaria fuck you in your sleep or you wont remeber it´´´

´´Haha.. So funny Mel, good night talk to you later´´.

Steph was the first one to hang up, with a faint sighed she put the cold cup of tea on the washer as she thought of washing some leftover plates from yesterday, but quickly washed it off as the tiredness started to hit her up with her yawning. She scratched her tired eyes with her hands as she kept yawning and strolls out of the kitchen ready to walk through the leaving room and go upstairs, but she quickly remembers she left her phone back in the kitchen.

´´Ughh…´´ She groaned as she took a turn to enter the kitchen again, and found her phone on the kitchen counter, she quickly grabbed it. She was on her back facing the entrance of the kitchen. Suddenly a harsh move of an unknown body is present behind her, a strong hand covering her mouth to keep her silent. Steph quickly began to panic. Who are they, she thought? She was facing the front view of the kitchen and the person was behind her, she could feel a strong arm wrapped against her face as they kept her silence, and… a chest? Of a woman?.

´´Don't scream, chula´´. A faint whisper came from this woman getting close to Steph's ear as she spoke.

Oh fuck.

#el sin nombre #valeria garza #valeria garza cod #valeria garza x fem!reader #lesbian #cod #call of duty #call of duty valeria #cod fanfic #cod modern warfare #cod smut

93 notes · View notes

akai-anna · 1 month

Text

it's been a while on my rewatch, but i'm watching the fake wedding case and... can we just talk about how shinichi's reaction is so different in the anime compared to the manga?

bland. boring. WHERE IS THE FEELING IN THIS. just. No.

THIS THO

SMITTEN. BESOTTED. A TRUE SIMP. JUST LOOK AT HIM. HE'S A BABY YOUR HONOUR. BABY IN LOVE!!!!

bonus: shinichi peeking at ran with a blush on his face at this bit (and ran blushing too, pretty please)

We Were Robbed.

#detco posting #detective conan #anime #manga #shinran #my beloveds #detco watching #la junk talks #the images are from ep 449 and chapter 535 for anyone who wants to know #i'm OBSESSED WITH SHINICHI JUST. HE'S SO IN LOVE?#HE FREAKING BLUSHED JUST IMAGINING THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE IN A WEDDING DRESS???#me just thinking about his face in topical land as he imagines confessing to ran AND ABOUT TO KISS HER IN HIS DAYDREAM?#NOW THAT IS A BESOTTED MAN. SMITTEN. HEAD OVER HEELS.#it feels like we were ROBBED #sometimes i think the anime does a better job than the manga #but not in this particular instance #the fact that you cannot tell at a glance how much of a simp shinichi is for ran is a crime A CRIME!!!#me on my current reread: i will so make a collage of all his simp moments. I SO WILL. *GNAWS ON LAPTOP*

153 notes · View notes

nicherayyy · 1 year

Note

more la squadra x child! reader requests, you say? I GOTCHU LMAO. ok, how about a scenario were la squadra and team bucci are all meeting up for some mafia business stuff, with the meeting taking place at la squadra headquarters. however, team bucci just so happens to also have their own child who's around the same age as the reader and they brought the child along since they can't afford to leave them alone in their headquarters. so, while the meeting is happening, the reader and team bucci's child meet and begin playing with each other, talking about the teams who pretty much adopted them, and even showing each other their stands (if they have). by the time team bucci has to leave, the two children cry, still wanting to play (the reader even hugs team bucci's child as if to prevent them from having to leave LMAO), but not long before they're reassured that they can see each other again. 🥺

YAS! Our adorable reader needs a friend😭 Any suggestions for their name?

La Squadra’s Reader!Child becomes friends with Bucci Gang’s Child

“Can I come with you? I want to see uncle Bruno.. and play with uncle Narancia”, this was the question you’ve already asked a million times. Honestly, the whole La Squadra was kinda tired of it. You actually just like it when the Bucci Gang gets to babysit you. Uncle Mista and uncle Narancia always hang out out with you, eat with you the junk food Prosciutto would never even let to look at, etc. Uncle Giorno is also funny in his own way. He makes you real butterflies from napkins! Isn’t this incredible? Although his ear trick scares you a bit..

Uncle Abbacchio’s always grumpy. But he lets you do anything you want so that’s ok. Sometimes you can convince him to play a tea party with you, just make sure not to tell others that he wore a pink tiara. Uncle Fugo tries to teach you some serious school stuff. He never even gets angry with you and controls his anger really well. And uncle Bruno is so cool! He’s kind and always agrees to play with you, even if he’s busy trying to sign this boring work related documents.

“Alright”, Risotto sighed, finally giving up “Just make sure to be quiet, it’s an important meeting”. He can’t really say no to you, either can others.

The whole gang became more joyful when they saw you.

“Hello there, Y/N”, Giorno smiled to you, gently patting your head.

“We actually want you to meet someone”, Mista looked behind the living room door, where someone seemed to be hiding “Hey, don’t be shy buddy, come out”

After these words a child about your age came out from behind the door. Woah, you definitely didn’t expect that, anything but that. Your family also looked surprised.

Now you’ve become shy, you hardly ever interacted with children your age. It’s almost funny that you’re not scared to talk to a gangster in his middle thirties, but scared to start a conversation with other children. Well, you guessed that this feeling was mutual. You just looked at each other like “and what now?”. Maybe you would look at each other like that if your thoughts hadn’t been interrupted.

“Why don’t you two play together while we’re discussing something?”, Fugo started while other agreed, now disappearing in the other room. Well, you didn’t have any other choices, you looked at this child again, being silent.

“I can show you my room”, they said nervously, trying not to break eye contact “If you want of course”

“Sure”, you replied, taking their hand in yours “Lead the way”

The first ten minutes together were a little embracing. None of you knew what to say and there was an uncomfortable silence a few times. But after you saw a figure of your favourite cartoon character everything seemed to change. It turned out that you have a lot of common interests. You watched the same shows, read the same books and even liked the same food! After an hour you talked like an old friends. You have never laughed so hard in your life. Now you have a friend, an actual friend! Are you dreaming? And they have a stand too, pretty amazing one. For this few hours you talked about everything, especially your families.

You told your new friend how cool your family is.

“People think they’re scary, but they’re not! For example I’m not scared of them at all”

“I know”, they sighed “Some people are scared of my family too. I don’t understand why..”

Several hours had passed like that and you still had so many topics to talk about. Maybe you two could talk forever if it wasn’t time for you to go home.

“Hey kid”, Illuso looked at you from the mirror across from you “Ready to go?”

No. No you weren’t.

“Can I stay longer?”, you pleaded, almost tearing up. Your new best friend took your hand protectively.

“Sorry but no”, he shrugged his shoulders “Everyone already waits for you”.

In response you hugged your friend, already crying. “I’m not going anywhere without them!”, you whined.

“Everything alright there?”, Prosciutto tired of waiting knocked on the door.

“I don’t wanna go”, you replied, your friend now holding you with stronger grip.

“You two can play tomorrow if you’re so desperate”, now Melone joined the conversation, opening the door.

“Promise?”, you stopped crying.

“Promise”, Mel smiled to you.

Still with suspicious in your eyes, you agreed.

So for now, you’re always together. Slumber parties, play dates and other stuff. You two are inseparable! Now going to the same school and hanging out afterwards, helping each other with homework and projects. Your families truly amazed what a strong bond you grew, but they’re happy for you guys. Maybe this friendship will last for years? Who knows..

299 notes · View notes

noticiasarquelogicasjaponesas · 3 months

Text

Sean bienvenidos, japonistasarqueologos, a una nueva entrega en esta ocasión comentaremos de por qué en Japón se come poca carne, una vez dicho esto pónganse cómodos que empezamos. - Seguramente todos pensemos, que en Japón se come carne y no otro tipo de alimentos, ya que eso sería un estereotipo alimenticio. Para empezar el tema hay que entender que la geografía juega un papel muy importante en todo esto porque hay pocos focos donde los japoneses puedan tener el ganado, por el hecho de que su país es muy accidentado geográficamente hablando, el 90% de la carne es importada como otros muchos productos porque Japón escasean muchos de ellos. - En su territorio crían pollos y la Wagyu que es la más conocida y más cara del mundo, además, Japón es el segundo mayor importador de carne de cerdo del mundo, llegando a importar unas 923.835 toneladas de carne en 2020. Por eso comer carne en Japón es muy cara, hay platos con carne, pero no os creáis que hay muchos, al contrario de los que hay más son de: pescado, arroz, verduras, es decir los brotes de soja, el arroz les sale más barato por poner algunos ejemplos y los lácteos es otro de los productos que son muy caros. Su dieta es una de las más sanas del mundo y eso se ve en su población la más longeva del mundo, llegando a los 100 años, aparte de un gran equilibrio alimenticio, aplicado a una buena filosofía. - En esta publicación no he hablado de la influencia Yankee en Japón, pero qué país no tiene su influencia de su asquerosa comida chatarra, normal que sean el país con más problemas de obesidad del mundo. Espero que os haya gustado y nos vemos en próximas publicaciones que pasen una buena semana. - ジャポニスタ・サルケオロゴスの皆さん、ようこそ！今回は、なぜ日本では肉をあまり食べないのかについてコメントします。 - 日本では肉を食べ、他の種類の食べ物は食べない。というのも、日本の国土は地理的に非常に起伏に富んでいるため、日本人が家畜を飼うことができる場所はほとんどない。 - さらに、日本は世界第2位の豚肉輸入国であり、2020年には約92万3,835トンの肉を輸入する。そのため、日本で肉を食べるのは非常に高価である。肉を使った料理はあるが、その数はそれほど多くない。彼らの食生活は世界で最も健康的なもののひとつであり、そのことは、優れた哲学に基づいた栄養バランスの良さとは別に、世界で最も長寿で100歳に達する彼らの人口にも表れている。 - 本書では、日本におけるヤンキーの影響については触れなかったが、ジャンクフードの影響を受けていない国があるだろうか？それでは、また次の記事でお会いしましょう。 - Welcome, japonistasarqueologos, to a new installment in this occasion we will comment on why in Japan they eat little meat, having said that, make yourselves comfortable and let's get started. - Surely we all think that in Japan they eat meat and not other types of food, since that would be a food stereotype. To begin the subject we must understand that geography plays a very important role in all this because there are few places where the Japanese can keep livestock, due to the fact that their country is very rugged geographically speaking, 90% of the meat is imported like many other products because Japan has a shortage of many of them. - On its territory they raise chickens and Wagyu which is the best known and most expensive in the world, in addition, Japan is the second largest importer of pork in the world, importing some 923,835 tonnes of meat in 2020. That is why eating meat in Japan is very expensive, there are dishes with meat, but do not think that there are many, on the contrary there are more: fish, rice, vegetables, i.e. bean sprouts, rice is cheaper to give some examples and dairy products is another of the products that are very expensive. Their diet is one of the healthiest in the world and this can be seen in their population, the longest in the world, reaching 100 years of age, apart from a great nutritional balance, applied to a good philosophy. - In this publication I have not talked about the Yankee influence in Japan, but what country does not have its influence of its disgusting junk food, it is normal that they are the country with more obesity problems in the world. I hope you liked it and see you in the next posts have a nice week.

#日本 #肉 #食 #ユネスコ #美食 #和牛 #神戸 #県 #地理 #Japan #meat #food #UNESCO #gastronomy #wagyu #Kobe #prefecture #geography #歴史 #history

27 notes · View notes

sea-moon-star · 1 year

Text

La Dolce Vita || JW

Pairing: Jackson Wang x f.reader

Genre: Fluff, Boyfriend!Jackson

WC: 0.5k

Summary: 11.15am (Grocery Shopping)

A/N: Thanks to BuzzFeed Thirst Tweets & Complex Snacked for providing top tier Jackson content hehe. Totally inspired by real events, this is me being accurate af lmao. 🌊🌙⭐️

-----------------------------------------

11.15am (Grocery Shopping)

Dating Jackson meant that you treasured every moment you had together. Owing to his busy schedule, even having him to yourself for an hour felt like a luxury. But often he had chores piled up that needed to be done in that same one hour. And so you'll had made it into a habit to do the most routine things together- from visiting the laundromat to cleaning the house. And he loved doing these domestic things with you, as he was able to shed the skin of being the famous star- Jackson Wang and instead was just Wang Jiaer around you. It meant doing most things together- with puppy Wang following you around everywhere you went. But grocery shopping was the one time you'll split up completely. He turns to the left aisle, you to the right aisle.

Jackson's grocery list

Almond Milk (1 carton)

Pasture raised eggs (2 dozen)

Avocados 3

Zucchini 1

Squash 1

Kale 1

Bell Peppers 3

Broccoli 2

Onions 6

Garlic (more is always better)

Extra lean (90%) beef 1

Salmon 1

Y/N's grocery list

Ramen (nongshim spicy red)

Whole Wheat Bread

Penne Pasta

Parmesan Cheese

Potatoes

Onions

Garlic (more is always better)

Tomatoes

Mushrooms

Chillies

Coke

Clearly, one could see how your food choices could be simply described as veg-junk-spicy and his as non veg-organic-bland. You'll were poles apart, in your palates and had made your peace with the fact. With you, wearing a mask everytime he cooked something that gave off a pungent smell while he rolled his eyes & refused to kiss you when you'd just eaten something spicy that led to your skin feeling on fire.

But before you made it to the cash counter, you smiled at the oppositely laid out carts as you noticed some things in his cart that belonged to you & vice versa. Snacks & desserts held the key to both your hearts. In his cart were your all time favourites- choco pie, lindt & nutella. And you'd curated a list of his childhood treats from China such as rabbit milk candy, shanzha & sunflower seeds.

You knew each other's preferences perfectly & had managed to rub off the taste on the other as well. You could tell in the way he smiled, a grin stretching from ear to ear that he was pleased with your decisions & you chuckled fondly, seeing that he had managed to remember your cravings.

"You do realize we've both picked the cereal and ice cream?" You giggled & said.

"Never too much of those, am I right?" He replied as he shrugged & walked forward to pay the bill as you shook your head & followed him, interlinking your hand into his as he squeezed your hand tight. And while he made small talk with the cashier, you captured a mental snapshot of this perfect little outing, for this was just as joyful and memorable as any other grand date you'd been on. Life with your boyfriend was truly "La Dolce Vita"- a sweet boy, with a sweet tooth & a shopping bag filled with sweets.

"Why so impatient, princess?" He asked as he noticed you tapping your feet & nudging him with your elboe to rush things along. So you smirked & whispered softly in his ear, "I'm just eager to go home & eat some ice cream. Preferably off your abs, like that genius Ahgase suggested in the BuzzFeed thirst tweets video."

"Should've known it was you!! Why go to such great lengths when you could've just asked babe." He crooned back, his gaze so sultrily that you were worried he'd devour you right then & there. And you stood there frozen, as red as the Hawthorne berries in your hand. Waiting & bidding the time, till you finally got home.

Jackson & Y/N's grocery list

Big white rabbit creamy candy

Roasted sunflower seeds (spiced flavor)

Shanzha (dried hawthorne berries)

Lotte Choco Pie

Nutella

Lindt Liquor Chocolates

BR Bavarian Chocolate Ice Cream

Kellogg's Frosted Flakes

THE END. 🌊🌙⭐️

#jackson wang #team wang #ahgase #got7 jackson #got7 #magic man #got7 fic #jackson x reader #jackson wang x reader #wang jiaer #wang puppy #got7 fluff #got7 fanfic #jackson x you #boyfriend Jackson

181 notes · View notes

originallandlockedmariner · 4 months

Text

2023

Pickleball. Generative AI. Lula takes office in Brazil, Amazon Rainforest throws a party. Prince Harry refusing to stop talking about his frozen penis no matter how many times society begged him to stop. UFOs are real. Viral cat dubbed ‘largest cat anyone has ever seen’ gets adopted. Pee-Wee’s big adventure ends. Musk & X. Turkey-Syria earthquake kills thousands. India surpasses China as ‘country squeezing in the most peeps’. Tucker Carlson ousted. Miss USA and her 30 lbs moon costume. Wildfires in Kelowna and Hawaii. Macron tinkers with retirement age of the French. Paltrow can’t ski. Big Red Boots. Bob Barker leaves us. Alabama mom delivers 2 babies from her 2 uteruses in 2 days. Charles III. Ukrainian counteroffensive against Russian forces as the war drags on. Taylor Swift is Time’s Person of the Year. African ‘coup belt’. Flo-Jo dies in her sleep. Chinese spy balloon shot down. Hollywood writers strike. Human ‘nice mugshot’ Shitstain and his 91 indictments. Highest interest rates in 2 decades. The Bear’s Christmas episode. War in Gaza. Shinzo Abe is assassinated. Alex Murdaugh. Ocean Cleanup removes 25 000 lbs of trash from the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. Vase purchased for $3.99 sells for $100 000 at auction. Barbenheimer. A third of Pakistan is flooded. Lionel Messi is the GOAT. Travis Kelce. The Sphere opens in Las Vegas. Regulators seized Silicon Valley Bank and Signature Bank, resulting in two of the three largest bank failures in U.S. history. “The Woman In Me”. WHO declares COVID ain’t a thing no more. Titan sub sinks, rich people die. Matthew Perry drowns. Dumbledore Dies (again). Massive sales of ‘Fuck Trudeau’ flags for jacked-up micro-dick trucks. Everything Everywhere All At Once. June-August was the hottest three-month period in recorded history across the Earth. Tina Turner dies. And the Beatles release a new song?! Wow… You got big shoes to fill 2024.

Archives for context:

2020

Kobe. Pandemic. Lockdown. Koalas on fire. Harry and Meg retire. Toilet paper hoarding. Alcoholism. Impeach the f*cker. Parasite. Bonnie Henry. Tiger King. Working from home. Sourdough bread. Harvey Weinstein guilty. Zoom overdose. Dip your body in sanitizer. 6 feet. Quarantine. OK Boomer. Home schooling (everyone passes). Murder hornets. Dolly Parton. Don’t hug, kiss or see anybody, especially your family. Chris Evans’ junk. TikTok. Glory holes. Face masks. CERB. West Coast wildfires. Stay home. Small Businesses lose, big box stores win. F*ck Bozos. ‘Dreams’ and cranberry juice. Close yoga studios, but thumbs up to your local gym. Speak moistly to me. George Floyd. BLM. F*ck Trump. Phase 2, 3 and Summer. RBG. Baby Yoda. Biden wins. Bond and Black Panther die. No more lockdown. Back to school and work. Just kidding... giddy up round 2. Giuliani leaks shit from his head. Resurgence of chess. UFOs are real. Restrictions. Dave Grohl admits defeat. Monolith. “F*ck... forgot my mask in the car”. No Christmas shenanigans allowed. Bubbles. Alex Trebek. Use the term ‘dumpster fire’ one too many times. Jupiter and Saturn form 'Christmas Star'. Happy New Year Bitches!!!! 2021... you better not sh*t the bed!!

2021

“We love you, you’re very special”. Failed coup attempt at the Capital. Twitter, FB and IG ban Donny. Hammerin’ Hank goes to the Field of Dreams. Bozo no longer richest man but still a twat. Leachman, Tyson, and Holbrook pass. The economy is worse than expected. Kim and Kanye split. Brood X cicadas. Dre has an aneurysm and nearly has his home broken into. Bridgerton. MyPillow CEO is a douche. Covid restrictions extended indefinitely. Captain Von Trapp dies. Proud Boys officially a Terrorist Organization. Richard Ramirez. Cancer takes Screech. Travel bans. Impeachment trial (again?… oh and this was barely February? WTF??!!) Suez Canal blockage. Myanmar protest. Kong dukes it out with Godzilla, while Raya watches. Olympics. Friends compare elective surgeries. F9. Canada Women’s Soccer Gold. Free Britney. Multiverses. Residential Schools in Canada unearth children’s bodies. Kate is Mare of Easttown. Cuomo resigns. Disney and Dwayne cruise together. Wildfires. Delta variants. Musk passes Bezos. Candyman x 5. Capt. Kirk goes to space. F*ck Kyle Rittenhouse. Astros didn’t win. Squid Game. Goodbye Bond. Dune is redone. Angelina is Eternal. Astroworld deaths. Meta. Omicron. Three Spidermen. Tornados in December? World Juniors cancelled. Pills against Covid. School opening delayed. And Betty White dies. 2022… my expectations are ridiculously low…

2022

Wow… eight billion people. Queen Elizabeth II passes away after ruling the Commonwealth before dirt was invented. The monkeypox. Russia plays the role of global a**hole. Wordle. Mother Nature rocks Afghanistan. Hover bike. Styles spits on Pine. Olivia Newton John, Kristie Alley, and Coolio leave us. Pele was traded to team Heaven. FTX implodes. Madonna and the 3-D model of her vagina. Pig gives his heart to a human. Beijing can brag that it is the first city ever to host both the Summer Olympics and Winter Olympics. Uvalde. $3 trillion Apple. Keith Raniere gets 120 years. The Whisky War ends with Canada and Denmark going halfsies. Mar-a-Lago. Nick Cannon brood hits a dozen. Shinzo Abe is assassinated. Inflation goes through the roof (if you can actually afford to put a roof over your head). Volodymyr Zelensky. European heat wave. Bennifer. Salman Rushdie is stabbed on stage, Dave Chappelle tackled, and Chris Rock is only slapped. Thích Nhất Hạnh. Heidi Klum goes full slug. Cuba knocked out by Ian. Liz Truss and 4.1 Scaramuccis. Taylor Swift breaks Ticketmaster. Human shitstain Elon Musk ignores helping mankind and buys Twitter instead. Riri becomes a mommy. NASA launches Artemis 1. Trump still a whiny little b*tch. Music lost Loretta Lynn, Christine McVie, and Meat Loaf. Democracy died at least three times. Pete Davidson continues to date hottest women on the planet (no one understands how?!) Microplastics in our blood. Alex Jones is a c*nt. So is DeSantis. Argentina wins the World Cup. Meghan and Harry. Eddie Munson rips Metallica in the Upside Down. tWitch. Roe vs Wade is overturned by the micro dick energy of the Supreme Court. CODA. James Corden shows he is a "tiny Cretin of a man". Amber (and the sh*t on the bed) Heard (round the world). Sebastian Bear-McClard proves he’s one of the f*cking dumbest men alive. Latin America's ‘pink tide’. Anti-Semitic rants by Ye. Bob Saget. A verified blue checkmark. Godmother of punk Vivienne dies. And, Tom Cruise feels the need for speed yet again. 2023… whatcha got for us?!? Nothing shocks me anymore.

@daily-esprit-descalier

#me #my words #doodles

26 notes · View notes