#to a large portion of people who haven’t watched the show
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Hey, remember when a bunch of assholes who forgot one of the cardinal rules of fandom (i.e. keep your ship nonsense away from the creators of the source material) maliciously misinterpreted an actor from their show when he grouped together the two most popular ships in the fandom in order to gently say that the assholes’ preferred pairing was also not canon?
I’m assuming this is badly referencing that incident, as this was posted without any evidence or clarifying details.
#I’m not nearly as invested in the actors as I am in the characters#so I mostly ignore anything actor-related that isn’t them talking directly about their characters#but jesus fucking christ#people love to twist jarpad’s words#I remember when the finale aired#and some people I respected but who had never watched the show#went and wrote long tweet threads about queerbaiting#and also took hellers at their words about jarpad’s comments shortly after#and this was when I was completely disengaged from the fandom at large#but I know that the perception of spn as The Queerbait Show#and jarpad as homophobic#spread far beyond the fandom#because hellers wanted the show they were watching to be something it wasn’t#and it pisses me the fuck off#d*stiel should be a footnote#not a major part of what the show’s about#to a large portion of people who haven’t watched the show#galatea.txt#this may be wankery
0 notes
Text
Fall into me - Chouji x reader
Song: Fall into me - Forest Blakk
The day that I met you
The world had just spit me out
.
Where you came from, Heaven was promised to those who fell for the cause, but hell was reserved for those who were enemies, traitors, or cowards. It was as easy as that and as difficult. Because where do those go that don’t die?
You had turned to the closest hidden village, hoping against all odds that they would not spit you out.
.
Konoha had been just a name before then, attached to even more names.
Orochimaru.
Sasuke Uchiha.
The Uzumaki Clan.
Just a few steps into the village you saw a group of Shinobi standing together. A woman with blond hair and two men. Your eyes followed them as you walked past, always on edge, always on the lookout.
A butterfly flew past you, tiny blue wings fluttering in the wind.
The bigger one of the two men held out his hand for the tiny creature, let it rest on his fingertip with a smile on his hand.
When he noticed you staring, you turned and fled.
.
Sure I'd never be found
Then you saw me for me
.
It’s not easy finding your place like Konoha.
Everyone knows everyone and gossip is almost as important as regular training.
Two months into your time here you earn yourself the name “ice princess” because you never show emotion.
Don’t they know that it’s dangerous to be vulnerable?
Haven’t they fought too?
.
“Do you want some?” Choji asks from his place by the fire. He offers you some of the stew he’s been preparing.
It’s the first time one of you has broken the silence since leaving Konoha for this mission.
You shake your head and watch him take the first spoonful into his mouth.
He sighs blissfully and smiles, offering you the bowl again.
“It’s not poisoned.” He tells you. “I tested it.”
You dig in this time, shame curling in your stomach at him having found you out. But shame is quickly displaced with the warmth of his food. It’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted, rich in flavor but even richer in meaning.
Despite his size, Choji’s the first to make space for you.
His eyes might not be as powerful as others, but he’s the first one to see you for what you are.
.
You said close your eyes
I got you now
.
You don’t eat food unless you’re sure it’s not poisoned.
You don’t sleep or sit or stand with your back to the door or the window.
You don’t talk unless directly questioned.
And as if it’s nothing to him, Choji has molded himself around you.
On missions, he offers you his food after he’s tried it.
At group dinners he asks if you want to share your portion, claiming that the portion sizes will be too big for you anyway.
On the rare occasions that you have to sleep in a room with the bed placed between the bed and the window, he curls around you like a giant shield.
He asks questions. Just to hear your answer.
.
“Did you prefer the tomatoes or the peppers?”
“Can you taste the curry powder?”
“What does that cloud look like to you?”
“Did you sleep well last night?”
.
Fall into me and I'll catch you, darlin
We'll dance in the street like nobody's watching
.
Relationships used to be for different people.
People who could go to bed without worrying if they’d wake up tomorrow.
But somewhere along the lines friendship blurred into something more, and trust grew into love.
You’ve learned to let go, knowing Choji will be there to catch you.
.
“I’ve prepared some Bento’s.” He tells you in the morning before he leaves for a mission. “Eat the one with fish first. Mother expects you for dinner tomorrow.”
“Why?” You ask, ignoring the looks you’re getting. You’d rather drop dead than not see him leave properly.
Choji snorts. “She likes you. She wants you around for dinner like usual.”
“But you’re not going to be there.” You remind him, old fears rearing their ugly heads again.
He takes your hand in his, his large palm swallowing yours.
His eyes are warm when he looks at you, able to melt the ice around your heart any day of the year.
“I’m not the only one who cares about you. I’m just the one who loves you the most.”
.
I'm drunk on your voice high on the moment
I'd fall for you twice if that's what you wanted
.
Your laughter rings through the room, a carefree sound.
Choji’s snorting in tune, clearly more amused by your reaction than Choza’s story.
After all, he’s heard it again and again.
Your laughter is much more pleasing to him and his hand finds yours under the table.
“Has Choji told you about the time he managed to bring a whole cake onto a mission?”
Chouza asks. “The fifteenth generation isn’t the only one who can tell some stories.”
You shake your head no, still trying to gather yourself after your laughing fit.
Under the table, you press his hand three times and he can’t help the lovestruck smile breaking free.
You haven’t been able to say it yet, words scaring you more than actions, but you’ve told him in your own ways how you feel.
He knows, his parents know, your friends know that you love him, that he loves you.
There’s a ring in the first drawer of his nightstand, a folder of possible apartments he wants you to look at, and your toothbrush in his bathroom at his parent's house.
He’d fall for you twice if that’s what you wanted and he’s able to wait as long as you need.
You’re his and he’s yours and that’s all that matters.
.
I'd give you my life from now 'til forever
I'm falling in love with you
Over and over again
.
Your wedding is a small affair.
Chouza is the only one left standing of the fifteenth generation of Ino-Shika-Chou, unable to keep from shedding tears when he hears your vows.
“I give you my life. From now on until forever. I am falling in love with you, over and over again.”
Your voice doesn’t shake when you speak, your hands secure in his.
You have been through war together.
After this, everything else will be easy.
.
And I knew my heart wasn't mine
On the day that I met you
My whole world came alive
.
You’ve fought a war, learned to survive in situations that would kill anyone else, have won the fight against eating disorders and paranoia.
But parenthood is a different kind of fight.
There are mornings when Chouji sits by your bed and has to beg for every sip of ginger tea you’re forcing down.
There are nights you sneak out of the house to sit with Chouza, wallowing in a fit of survivor’s guilt.
Some days you miss being Anbu, other days you’re afraid of ever going back.
Some days your body grows and your heart seems to shrink until the only thing that’s left is the love for Chouji and Chouji alone.
.
Love doesn’t have to be like diamonds.
It doesn’t have to endure pressure to earn it’s worth.
But when it endures it gains a preciousness never imagined.
You’d given your heart to Chouji years ago, felt it beat in his hands where it was safe whenever he smiled at you.
But the day that you met your child, the world came alive again.
You found meaning in the eyes of those you loved.
“Fall into me and I'll catch you.”
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
(idk who will care about this post but i think long schpiels on extremely specific Thoughts About Media is a major use case for tumblr so you’re getting it anyway) i think i wouldn’t at all have my feeling of disconnect re the rest of fandom’s* interest in Bondord if he had been a woman. this isnt a bizarre critique of some sort its just a funny thought about me and what i like. twisted inversion of motherhood with a mad scientist character feels like, the concept has More For Me than the same with fatherhood and would create more intrinsic interest in the character
*especially ‘my cohort’ — the contingent who seems to have similar predilections like fic/shipping activity and also much of the portion of the fandom that’s, like, adult women — largely those folks are big Bondrode fans and enjoy Guebon and i’m like, i relate to your habits guys but have very little interest in your man. (for those who haven’t heard me bitch about this before: i dont hate him but i have littlr interest in seeking out art or fic of him or anything and I’m kinda sad that he’s the only adult character who ever got like figures and nendo and stuff.)
hopefully no one takes this personally lol. hell, i don’t care if Bon fans think Belaf is boring! that is in fact vastly preferable to people who are randomly mean about my ships. please feel free to just ignore my favorite characters’ existence instead.
anyway like
if he’d shown up as A Horrible Science Woman and then the movie recast her into Also A Loving (But Still Horrible) Mother i’d probably like this chara much more. it’s not like because Ooh Evil Woman Hot or something. actually i think i still wouldn’t find her hot the way most of the aforementioned Bondord Enjoyers do. i pick up a new ‘character i think is actually hot’ very rarely and then they stay forever. i have very limited slots for that tbh. (also this is just me complaining now and no longer relevant but such characters tend to be pretty unpopular lol and have very little r18 content/fic available and generally this drives me to despair. i drew a picture about the top offenders once.)
it’s more..i think the fucked up inversion of motherhood is more intrinsically interesting to me than with fatherhood. it’s just a personal interest thing. i think that sort of thing is neat. if i ever bother to go watch chainsaw man it’ll be because i know that’s a thing that it gets into and many people like what it does there. also there’s how much i dig mapping parts of this show onto other parts (in fact this is already the context in which i do manage to find him interesting sometimes — the Riko Waz Bondird sliding scale of what lines you’ll cross is the one context in which i have a brain cell to focus on this guy lol.) and in that regard motherhood is part of the premise of the show and all and ways it can be inverted and fucked up is a big deal in my favorite arc even if this isn’t *why* it’s my favorite arc. so i think i’d also enjoy being able to make more parallels with it. even though the general parallel of ‘versions of parenthood’ is still available, i think bad mad scientist fathers are just a less intrinsically Oh Cool concept to me than ‘bad mad scientist mother.’ (Yes I Do Like Prospera Btw)
related: even though I love love love Waz and you guys know this, it also took a while for that to click into place after meeting him. but one time I saw Oriole’s girlWaz tenderly cradling one of the Irukos and i instantly realized that if he had been a woman and the visual of him with the baby and a knife had thus inevitably channeled inverted motherhood and dovetailed with the existing examinations of motherhood in the arc and in abyss as a whole, i would have loved him instantly instead of having to let my thoughts on him percolate.
5 notes
·
View notes
Note
I have a question!! So I’m a long-time BSD enjoyer but I haven’t read nearly as much of the manga as I would like. I’ve seen all of the anime though, most of it multiple times through. I didn’t realize until looking at the comments on Danny Motta’s video at how much people fucking hate Fukuchi and his sword. Up until this point I’ve thought it’s cool as hell and he, along with the sword, bring something kinda new and fun to the series.
HOWEVER, I know BSD is FAR from perfect and there’s a lot of dumb shit that faithful manga readers have a better perspective on. Would you mind explaining why Fukuchi and the sword are such a sore point? I hope this isn’t too much to ask. I just really want to know.
Hi anon! Its not too much to ask at all!
Unfortunately the answer to that is best explained in the context of ALL the issues I have with the manga/show so... this is going to be v long... and im done giving this show more credit than it deserves but don't take it that seriously lol I hesitate to even consider my pov to be on par with the average manga reader but ig we'll see how my opinions hold up after i post
And disclaimer: I don't mind answering this but ONLY with the context that this is 100% my opinion (as of late, bsd as a whole has just been REALLY bugging me so im just gonna take this opportunity to explain my gripes since most of them apply to or tie greatly into fukuchi's character/design/motivations/development)
I simply don't want anyone to come for my head bc of anything I say here tho, bc I feel like I may disagree with a large portion of the fanbase but WITH THAT SAID...
***from this point forward there will be a few spoilers from s5e11***
Here are my gripes with BSD...
1. BSD and its "magic system"?
bsd powers suffer from what i like to call a "lack of scope"
granted this could be due to the fact the story isnt complete HOWEVER im sure any anime fan can tell you this story doesnt feel like it is leading anywhere its just... going... (ill get to the awful pacing later)
for comparison sake im going to also talk about The Case Study of Vanitas since it is the world I have the most experience in
what does BSD not have that VNC does?
simply put, the magic system doesnt reinvent itself character to character
in VNC if you have an ability it is EXCLUSIVELY connected to "manipulations of the world formula" which is essentially elemental control (fire, ice, gravity, etc.) based on a sci fi version of chemistry (alchemy, if you will) and this rule applies to EVERY CHARACTER in VNC
its a structure that starts developing from the beginning
BSD however introduces a WHOLE NEW magic system for each character
some character abilities are similar, yes, and can be classified as such, but many cannot be classified
again a magic system doesnt NEED to have strict rules (its actually more boring that way if the rules are too simple) but it DOES need RULES... and solid ones
otherwise its tempting to use the MAGIC system to fill in PLOT RELATED gaps
and if that system isnt defined, well, to me that looks like lazy/sloppy/illogical writing
if you like the whiplash of not knowing whats gonna happen next, fine, (i did for awhile too!) up until the unpredictability started to come from powers that as a whole look like an authors way of trying to write themselves out of their own plot hole
ie: time travel
specifically time travel that isnt introduced FROM THE BEGINNING...
2. Fukuchi and his "deus ex machina" sword
time travel is NOTORIOUSLY difficult to pull off and especially by my standards
I have watched Doctor Who since 2008, before I even knew what tumblr was I was doing my own solo fandom stuff (basically just watching a LOT of youtube video essays) but basically I have high standards when it comes to time travel in stories
Amenogozen has the POTENTIAL to be a great weapon if used in a logical context... but theres one thing the sword (and BSD as a whole) does not follow
RULES
time travel is TRICKY mostly bc it has consequences... in BSD fukuchi gives nothing in exchange for his powers
lets even toss time travel aside for the moment
what is Fukuchi's innate special ability? Mirror Lion... (read below)
its essentially an attack multiplier of x100 at CLOSE RANGE
lets say your average untrained human punch is 150psi (pounds per square inch) which is the pressure equivalent of a point 100m below the surface of the ocean...
with Mirror Lion's multiplier you get 15,000psi which would be 10,000m or 10 kilometers
a pressure equivalent to the deepest part of the ocean (i dont need to remind you how powerful water is... we all know about oceangate)
MY POINT IS HE'S OVERPOWERED AS FUCK
dont even get me started on his motivations too
im glad we got backstory for him in ep 11 and im sure we are just supposed to sum up his motivations into "he was willing to pay the high price for world peace" but tbh royally fuck that
dont TELL me thats what he believes
PROVE to me how you made that conclusion
also the only reason he even dies is becasue he wants fukuzawa to kill him... we dont have any sense of accomplishment for stopping his scheme because NOW the scheme has been PLOPPED right into fukuzawa's lap which fukuchi intended to do from the start... apparently
and this seemingly retroactive decision-making is a problem A LOT of bsd characters have, especially the one and only character i hate THE MOST... *drumroll*
3. Osamu fucking Dazai
oh boy...
I have thought long and hard about Dazai... im not going to lie, after ch109 and ep10 I was about to admit Dazai might actually have grown on me BUT
this was all erased after 6 minutes into ep11 when he was confirmed to indeed NOT be dead
Dazai just *knows* everything thats gonna happen
Chuuya was never a vamp... he knew this... and somehow his ENTIRE escape plan was just hinging on that? bc yknow... hE kNeW fRoM tHe bEgiNniNg
OSAMU DAZAI IS A PLOT DEVICE USED *ONLY* TO FILL IN NARRATIVE HOLES
HE IS A WAY TO FORCE PROGRESS ON A STORY WITHOUT EVER GIVING A REAL EXPLANATION
HIS CHARACTER IS AN INSULT TO INTELLIGENCE
His character is paper thin, with motivations that do not translate to his actions
and frankly... im tired of it...
additionally... if sigma doesn't survive, all of Meursault was literally useless... so why pick him for nikolai's prison break game?
even if he does, it means the ONLY thing we get out of the arc is information about fyodor... as to WHAT information, who knows... but regardless, a villain arc that has been going on for TOO GODDAMN LONG (40 chapters?) should have a resolution that isnt "i knew what was gonna happen all along"
we spent the whole time being SHOWN that fyodor and dazai were of equal intelligence levels... or at least higher than what dazai was used to dealing with
if dazai could just predict shit like this from the beginning why was fyodor a villain for so long? makes ZERO sense, dazai would've defeated him AGES ago... what makes THIS time any different?
also... why is he even suicidal? yeah ok the author was... but like... why make it such a present character trait?... so we can fake kill him over and over? idk
can you tell i dislike him?
4. THEORY vs PRACTICE
I am a "show dont tell" girlie
ALL BSD DOES IS "TELL TELL TELL" ...its infuriating
almost every power/special ability has an element of "trust me bro" ok SOME OF THEM DONT but most of them do
ie: atsushi is a tiger (what does that even mean), kenji gets strong when he's angry (ok hulk?), and THIS JUST IN we STILL don't know how fyodor's ability works... and now he's DEAD?... we also dont know almost any detail about sigma's ability and he might ALSO be dead
but thats only regarding abilities...
when it comes to writing stories using people of high intelligence it is VERY difficult to not get into the aforementioned "trust me bro" mindset which BSD does REPEATEDLY
im not listing off every example but off the top of my head is one scene from s4...
ranpo explains his plan for saving yosano loosely involved "replacing the engine [of an armored vehicle] with an electric motor and playing engine sounds over the speakers so no one noticed" ...and only i can pick this claim to shreds lol (i engineer electric vehicles for a living) but this is so wrong on so many levels...
Internal combustion engines and Electric motors are IN NO WAY EQUIVALENT
ranpo would never be able to power a vehicle the size of an armored truck with a motor that he installed an hour before the truck was put to use... he just wouldnt... the vehicle is too big... ugh *facepalm*
and dont even get me started on batteries...
MY POINT IS
if you want to write some *genius move* at least TRY to do some research to make the action believable
thats like saying "oh yeah i ran out of gas so a threw a couple AA batteries into my gas tank until i could make it to the station"
BUT THAT WOULDNT FLY BECAUSE MOST PEOPLE KNOW THATS NOT HOW CARS WORK
*sigh*
5. Manga Readers' POV
the.chapters.are.too.short
especially for a monthly released manga
i am relatively new to anime and manga... like late 2020, so I am part of the "new gen" I guess you could say so i know i dont have any right to complain about pacing in comparison to like... the dressrosa arc of One Piece
with that said, not enough in bsd BUILDS on itself
it all feels like a self "one-up"
its been too long since any of my large questions have been answered
honestly its rare that any of my questions are ever answered because the narrative rarely follows logical progression anyway and any scenes thats ARE useful are cut from the anime
characters do not *develop* their powers, they just simply ARE
whatever ability you are born with limits what you can do and thats that... which leads me to...
6. Types of Ability Users
the most coherent thing i think i can speak on so this will be short lol
there are 3 types... i think (excluding lightnovels, i have not read 15, Stormbringer, or any others)
(1) natural abilities (ones that can be nullified by dazai or stolen like in Dead Apple)
(2) human/god fusions (chuuya) -> but this can ALSO be nullified???
(3) when an ability isnt an ability (it CANT be nullified) -> ie: whatever the fuck Lovecraft is
Sigma -> ??? (he could be part of the natural ability category but like... it feels weird to put him there)
but... there is never a comparison between these types so im not even sure of this "list" is exhaustive
this is just another way the story is leaving open ways to dig itself out of a plot hole... which isnt fun... bc now there are no stakes... there are no rules... its disorganized chaos where anything can happen
everyone will always be fine because there is a way out of everything
and thats BORING... and for me, downright infuriating
fukuchi likely falls into the first category... but then again he's also using a tool from another ancient ability user... so does he even fit there?
7. Anime Adaptation
rushed
rushed
RUSHED
and i know why...
BSD is so thin on STABLE plot the story would feel like its dragging if Bones wasn't animating at the pace they are (see Manga Readers' POV)
so to try and counteract the feeling that nothing is happening they are cutting "irrelevant" scenes BUT ALSO important portions relevant ones (ie: aku's death)
do all the plot points from the manga happen? by definition, yes... but the nuance the manga has is lost almost entirely
Atsushi doesn't physically throw an injured Aku's arm over his shoulders... Aku doesn't smile upon his demise... Aku doesn't reach out through the fog of the fire extinguisher (the adaptation of this scene was personally my last straw)
and then we have the new anime content...
why did we tack on an additional fight? zero context... didn't even tie up loose ends from fukuchi like...
is sigma alive?
are chuuya/dazai/nikoali still in france? europe?
is fyodor going to return in some way? (we know nothing of his motives, ability, or MOST importantly, what information did he learn from Sigma??? his ability is an EXCHANGE so why even have that happen if they are both dead anyway?) why would you fucking kill off a character like this
WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THIS ENTIRE ARC??? The mere reason I'm asking this question is, in and of itself, unacceptable
we MAY get an answer later... but its been 20 episodes... why the fuck dont we know anything about the arc we just completed? ...ludicrous
Final Thoughts
BSD does not have enough reliable rules in its magic system to form a solid foundation of... anything
Fukuchi is a disjointed character trying to do too many things at once, he doesn't have solid motivations, and his arc provides more questions than it answers
Osamu Dazai is not a character... he is a plot device used like a saving throw in DND
BSD frequently insults my intelligence to cover it's ass in its storytelling
being a manga reader is like taking 30 days to rip off a tiny band aid... the pacing is unbearable
even with the end of fukuchi's arc now known, there was no sense of accomplishment in defeating him bc technically we didnt… he gave himself up... so the sword was just to make him overpowered... it was pointless
the anime adaptation was rushed, scenes cherry picked, and plot narratively thinned into water... there was no depth this season
In my opinion...
There are very few redeeming characteristics about BSD now
The few meaningful scenes we do get in the manga are overwritten by later context that negates any emotion initially associated with the scene
even with the end of fukuchi's arc now known, there was no sense of accomplishment in defeating him bc technically we didnt... he gave himself up
Dazai is the worst written character I have ever read
It is very likely i drop this story entirely
If I seem salty/upset/etc. its because I am. However is NOT directed at you, it is simply a manifestation of my disappointment in this story.
...
And there you have my opinion... in way too many words... thanks for sticking around if you made it this far im impressed bc i am salty as hell lol
fin
#i hope this helps?#In all seriousness you have likely been following bsd for longer than I have (my first manga chap I had to wait for was ch101#before then i was anime only#so like... early 2022? i think... this sideblog was born soon after)#long post#bsd discourse#asks#opinion#my post#bsd spoilers#god ok this was in my drafts for a bit#and this post likely got significantly out of hand#however i think i just needed a place to write down my thoughts#these arent even all of them by the way#i could write a whole post on dazai alone#...and not good things
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ratings and articles about ratings.
Here’s a longer guide to ratings, what they mean and why we shouldn’t panic about them as well as the articles.
During the save campaign a media outlet has reported that renewal will come down to ratings and Magnum P.I. gathering new viewers and better ratings. That statement is a bid of a double-edged sword.
The show has gathered new viewers, mainly seen on social media as new friends slide into the new warm and fuzzy blanket that is the comfort show called Magnum P.I. We also left some viewers behind on CBS, which is perfectly natural. CBS is known to be a ratings giant, in large part to the general audience CBS gathers that simply turns CBS on no matter what is on. Think background music that consist of explosions and gunshots. These viewers are the ones we haven’t managed to bring over to NBC and we weren’t going to be able to bring them over anyway.
But let’s look at some things in more detail.
What are ratings?
Ratings are a measuring system, by which networks gage the audiences interest in their shows. Based on ratings advertisers also decide what ads to place and potentially how much they pay for it, which is income for the networks. The sales demographic (18-49) is specifically interesting to those. Networks as well as the companies have access to far more data than the simple sales
Are our ratings bad?
Simply said, no. For a Sunday show on NBC in our timeslot our ratings are solid. Even the recent ‘drop’ in numbers is just a reflection of the competition currently on. Sundays are some of the weaker days in terms of ratings. At the moment Sundays generally don’t gather stellar ratings across the board. Every show and network suffers from this downturn (Hello streamer competition, anyone?)
Why did we suffer a drop in ratings in the recent weeks?
Simply said: Competition and natural viewing behavior.
March Madness is an event people watch live (as are Oscars, but March Madness much more so). These people record their shows instead of missing the game. March Madness also consistently ran overtime a little. People don’t just switch to other channels to catch half an episode. If they haven’t set a recording they will watch on Peacock.
It’s also somewhat natural for shows to lose a few viewers along the way. The reasons are as many as you can possibly imagine. Some lose interest, some have a different working schedule, lose access to NBC, aren’t in the right mindset to watch, have to go to the hospital, stubbed their toe, die (yeah, people annoyingly do that in which case their rating isn’t counted).
Where is everyone who saved the show and why aren’t they watching?
It’s a frequent complain and one that is perhaps the most stinging to the fans that have become active to try and save the show. It’s also an unfair question. A little over 14000 people signed the petition, only a fraction of those have donated to the fund, a handful have organized initiatives (billboard, anyone). You will have to subtract international viewers here, who have made up a large portion of that number. As you can see those specific fans are around – if they can. The international fans have no way of contributing to ratings other than social media engagement.
What ratings do we need to get renewed?
Impossible for us to tell. Ratings are only one factor in a large grid of data that NBC has access to and we don’t. We like having control, I know, but in this case we don’t have any.
Data we don’t have but that factors into renewal decisions:
Production cost (including rent for stages, compensation for cast, crew and so on)
How much money the ads actually make
How much money product placement in the show brings in
Number of people streaming
Contract requirements for the ads
Social media engagement (beyond the cold numbers) and the value they put into it
Projected ratings and expectations
To make it simple: A show that has high production cost and high ratings can still be canceled if the income the show brings doesn’t match the cost of producing it. Shows with lower ratings can still be renewed if there’s a solid profit.
Why do ratings look so different on a Sunday than a Friday?
Viewer behavior and circumstance. Friday is the beginning of the weekend, a lot more people have time to just kick back and watch TV, whereas Sundays people prepare for the new work week, maybe go to bed early. The reasons are endless, but it comes down to this: Sunday ratings and Friday ratings are wildly different overall. More people watch Friday in general, so our numbers would be higher there, too, but our Sunday ratings do reflect the higher ratings we would have on a Friday, translated to the circumstances on a Sunday.
We would have better ratings on a Friday, why doesn’t NBC put us back on a Friday?
It comes back to the data we don’t have. Yes, we performed well on a Friday, but NBC has analysts who thought it would be most beneficial to have Magnum P.I. on a Sunday. They had a reason to put it there. Also we would have likely experienced a rating drop on Fridays, too. Mainly because, as pointed out, the people who habitually watch CBS, wouldn’t watch NBC now.
CBS has a much higher rating than we do. Should we be worried?
No. NBC won’t make renewal decisions based on what CBS does. NBC makes decisions based on how their own shows do. Ultimately the shows that bring (and are projected to continue to bring) good profit, not ratings, are likely the ones that will be renewed. So don’t look to other networks, we’re not in direct competition with them for a timeslot at NBC, we’re in competition with other NBC shows. And among them we’re far from the worst performer. (And again, we have very little data in order to gage profitability)
Why are articles reporting so negatively about the shows ratings?
It’s simple journalism. Similar to shows, articles have a bit of a rating system behind them: Clicks. Highly clicked articles = more income.
Now as yourself which headline are you more likely to click and which article are you more likely to read through:
Magnum P.I. plummets to a new all-time low.
Or
Magnum P.I. has 0.5mil viewers less this week than last week.
You’re more likely to click the first one, because it tickles your emotions, in this case in a negative way. The same way the content does. This type of language grabs you more, which increases click rates and the chance that you read the entire thing through, which is what they want.
Ultimately they pick the language to manipulate you into a reaction, not because it reflects their opinion or the meaning of the ratings. The content is the same, though: The ratings dropped.
Matt, who almost writes daily articles about Magnum P.I., is a great example for it. I am sure we all remember when he had headlines during the save announcing statements by a star of the show only to click the article and realize it was just talking about a recent social media post by a cast member which we had already seen. The objective here is, like with every other website: Gather clicks. In this case by tickling your curiosity. It’s nothing more, nothing less.
The reason why the articles sound negative is simply to get you to react. They in no way reflect NBCs opinions, nor are they able to tap into more data than we do, which is the ratings. All they have is a bit of experience with previous shows, but when it comes down to that, they consistently point out that Mangum P.I.s ratings are a win for NBCs Sunday line-up.
Why aren’t streaming numbers released?
Internal decision, but maybe this quiets your mind: Procedurals like Magnum P.I. are known to have great streaming numbers. They’re one of the best performing genres on streaming platforms. One of the reasons for that is how easy one can get into the plot at any point due to the stories contained within an episode. Magnum P.I. and all the other procedurals are a show where you can watch an episode without context of previous seasons and still enjoy it due to the mystery of the day. From there maybe the serialized aspect makes viewers go back. Or they continue to watch. But our streaming numbers could very well be good.
Does the drop mean it looks bad for renewal?
No. Right now what you want to look at is context: Magnum P.I. brought NBC the strongest Sunday ratings in years. Our decline is happening within the context of a sport event/natural decline and NBC will have expected it. Other than that our ratings are stable.
We also consistently adjust upward from the preliminary ratings we get on a Monday to the final ones we get the week after. That means something.
Ultimately we will not be able to judge our renewal chances on the ratings alone, due to the multitude of factors (and there could be more) I already mentioned.
There is no point in getting overly worried about ratings. We can’t control them! No matter how much we want to.
What we can control is this: If we can watch it and have our view counted, do. Engaged with the official accounts on social media and enjoy the show. There’s really nothing more we can do.
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
Volume 1 - Post #5: Aren't You Sweet?
Another installment in this ongoing serialized fanfic
Genre: Mandalorian x Fem Reader
Total word count: 2.3K (of 25K total in Volume 1)
Rating: Explicit - smut, language, +18 *NSFW*
______________________________________________
V. “That’s a beautiful smile you have.”
With most of the crowd milling about while technicians finished repairing the disabled platform, you hadn’t noticed this young man sidling up next to you. His armor bore a crest of two wolves, one red, one black, with snouts and scorpion tails touching to form a circle.
“You can’t be from around here because I would remember you.”
He looks at you with a glint in his red eyes—as though you were a particularly rich dessert, and he was still debating how large a portion he should take. “So what do you think of Al-Campur? Enjoying the sights?”
It's clear from the look on his face, this is a none-too-subtle reference to himself. The Chiss is tall, with sharp cheekbones and an angular face that's softened by cascades of wavy black hair. Now that you bother to look, you have to admit he is handsome. Knows it, too.
“Haven’t seen much beyond the spaceport,” you pout, praying to the gods that Mando has turned off the comlink. “My master works me too hard.”
He laughs at that bit of innuendo. “I could show you a good time.”
“Aren’t you sweet?” You reply breathlessly. “But, I’m afraid my time isn’t my own. I just snuck up here to watch while my master places bets with those barbarians.”
Your hand waves vaguely to where the most fearsome looking gangsters hovered around Mighty Barka. The Hutt was seated atop his massive throne amidst the gambling tables and betting counters lining the private mezzanine level.
“Well, I hope you’ll stay long enough to watch me compete." A wide palm snakes up your back to pull you close. “It would give me courage knowing you were waiting to…congratulate me.”
“Careful,” you say, placing a hand against his chest with just enough token resistance to please him. “Or my master will see us.”
“Maybe I should kill your master,” his smile transforms into a wolfish grin, shaking waves of jet-black hair from his blue face. “And take you for myself.”
“You are brave, Har’sho of Taris.”
His red eyes widen with satisfaction. You recall watching him last night in the Arena, where he’d been stupid, reactionary and survived thanks to sheer dumb luck.
“For a body like yours, it's a risk worth taking.”
Behind him, you see Nito returning with what can only be described as ‘lizard on a stick’ and a sour look on his face. “Hey, guy! You're blocking my view.”
Give the Ardennian some credit; he can’t quite maintain eye contact, but he is standing up for himself. Har’sho doesn’t even bother looking down to discover the source of the noise.
“How about a kiss for luck?” He leans in, but you flick your sleeve in time to slide the taser into your palm, pressing the tip under his chin.
“Very brave,” you purr.
“I’ll work you harder than your master,” he whispers into your ear.
“Is that a promise?”
He laughs, “Come find out.”
“That was… yuck!” Nito says, sticking a purple tongue out between his pointed teeth. “I might actually throw up again.”
“Is he gone?” You ask, scooping the kid up before he could get his little talons on Nito’s fried lizard stick.
“Yeah.” He leans back to peer down the row of benches. “Of all the people I’ve seen hit on you, I can’t believe you’re encouraging that asshole.”
“Believe me, that’s why he left. If I ignored him, he would have sat here harassing us and made a scene,” you explain, even though you don't need to justify your behavior to Nito. Or anyone else who might be listening.
He plucks off a crunchy lizard leg and hands it to the kid.
“Don’t give him that!”
“Face it, he doesn’t like your healthy food, Thuli.”
“Alright, then you’re sitting up with him when he’s fussy and constipated.”
“Ew!” Nito snatches back the lizard leg and shoves it in his mouth. ��S’not good for you, buddy.”
The kid blinks up at you both in breathless horror, ears wilting.
“How can you eat that shit?”
“Well, my stomach is empty now. Farrik! Mando’s up again,” Nito announces, pointing to the combatants selected for the next round. “Ha! And he’s fighting your new boyfriend.”
Har’sho’s smug face appears below a Cathar gladiator rounding out the board.
Maybe Mando had heard the Chiss making sleazy overtures through the comlink. Or maybe it was the Raquor’daans emblazoned on his armor. Whatever the reason, the Mandalorian makes a performance of absolutely destroying Har’sho’s face, knocking him out cold with the Beskar helmet.
You feel a little sorry for the guy, actually. The whole thing was spectacularly humiliating, watching his unconscious body being taken on an aimless ride around the Arena by one of the circling platforms.
But, the rest of it? The violence and gore? How could this possibly be entertaining? Seeing firsthand what Mando is truly capable of is unsettling, to say the least. The way he could tear through the gladiators surrounding him, impervious to the blood and screams and brutality.
“So, that’s two matches.”
The Cathar had raked his claws down the bounty hunter’s leg trying to pull Mando off a platform. And despite doing a good job of hiding it, you know the cadence of the Mandalorian’s gait. He's limping.
“You want those air filters replaced?” He asks brusquely.
“Ok, yes, we would all like to wake up without feeling sand between our teeth, but…”
It takes another two rounds before the inevitable finally arrives. Soon, the clamoring tension in the stands becomes a living thing, the crowd unable to decide who they want to prevail when Mando faces Imiako in the next match. The Houk was their champion, bathed in blood, but the Mandalorian was canny and brazen. What clever trick might he use to leverage Imiako’s weaknesses against him?
No one charges after the gong this round. They all immediately flee from the meteor hammer. With the Houk positioned on the opposite side of the Battle Dome, Mando is safe from its immediate path, but the fighters next to Imiako are either choked or crushed. Or dragged across the Arena to be choked and crushed.
Imiako was strong, but he was slow. If Mando could climb faster…
“The platform above your right–”
“I’ve got it,” Mando says, familiar enough with the sequencing by now that he could navigate the Granee Hasa pretty well without you.
The Mandalorian clears about half the distance towards the Victor’s Dais when the platforms stop following their automated pattern. Suddenly, they swerved and careened, forcing gladiators to leap aside or risk collision, stalling their progress until Imiako could make his way up.
They were being herded. And it was immediately obvious to where. And to what purpose.
A large platform hovered at the center of the Arena about midway to the Dais, right at the height of the mezzanine level. The operators didn’t bother hiding their blatant machinations. It would be a great show for Mighty Barka and all the other high rollers.
A few of the fighters leap onto whichever platform happened to pass nearby, their attempts becoming more reckless the closer Imiako got. Some of them made it.
The remaining gladiators fight amongst themselves, clearly afraid to leave an enemy at their backs when they finally face down the Houk.
“We have a better chance of survival if we work together,” the Mandalorian shouts, dodging the frantic attack from a combatant’s broadsword.
“Fuck you!” The Dowutin spat.
“Have it your way,” Mando sighs. Grabbing them by the wrist, he spun inside their guard to thrust the sword upward until it sliced through the back of their skull.
Through the comlink, you can hear a dull whoom, whoom, whoom sound coming through the speaker.
Mando turns sharply to look behind him, raising his new blade to the throat of a fighter running towards him. It was the same Trandoshan gladiator from last night.
She holds up both hands, “No! I agree with you. A split reward is better than a split stomach.” And to prove her loyalty, she hurls one of her axes into another fighter stalking towards them. “We can work out the cut later.”
Then you hear that dull whoom, whoom, whoom sound again.
The Trandoshan decides to place her faith in Mando’s chivalry, taking position behind him, back to back, to protect each other’s blind spot. They make an effective team, fending off the remaining gladiators when, at last, the Houk lumbered onto the platform, swinging his meteor hammer around those immense shoulders.
Whoom, whoom, whoom.
The half a dozen fighters still battling it out all pause to watch as Imiako extends a single finger, crusted with gore, to point directly at the Mandalorian.
“Mine,” he roars.
Dread clenches around your heart like a fist. The crowd, on the other hand, explodes with bestial delight, jumping up in their seats so raucously you worry the stands might collapse.
One by one, the gladiators peel away from Imiako’s range except for one very stupid Devaronian, who maybe thought that because they were close in size, he had a chance of taking down the Houk. This did not prove to be true. Despite the Devaronian’s massive stature, Imiako’s meteor hammer crushes his skull as easily as an overripe melon.
The Trandoshan—Rumia, if you recall her name correctly—is smart enough to choose her life over money. Before the Houk could swing his hammer around again, she leaps out of its path towards a descending platform.
But Imiako catches her by the throat.
Mando’s knife embeds into the Houk's neck, but he hardly seems to notice. Laughing, he throws Rumia off the platform.
Whoom, whoom, whoom. Mando manages to jump, duck, and dodge until the meteor hits him squarely in the chest. The Beskar held, of course, but did nothing to cushion the force of the blow, and the Mandalorian is thrown like a projectile to the edge of the platform.
“Oooooooooh, fuck.” Nito moans in a terrified whisper.
Sensing your shared panic, the kid squirms against the folds of the cloak, holding him to your chest.
“Mando can do this,” you say with determination. “Imiako is slow, and he has never fought a Mandalorian.”
A fearsome snarl comes through the comlink, filling your ear.
This time, when Mando sidesteps the meteor, he thrust a discarded spear into its path. The chain wraps around the shaft, but before the coiling metal can snap the wood in half, the bounty hunter lets go. The spear whips back, burying the blade into the Houk's shoulder. The knife he could ignore, but now Imiako had lost the use of his arm, the one he used to wield the hammer.
Pulling the bounty hunter’s spear free from the ruined flesh of his shoulder, the Houk plunges the blade down, intending to impale Mando like a fish for roasting. The crowd loves it.
With the Houk and the Mandalorian locked in hand-to-hand combat, you hardly notice the Trandoshan making her way toward the Victor’s Dias. With everyone else dead, it’s a clear path to the top. She was going to win.
And you know what, you don’t even hate her for it. In fact, you’re cheering her on since it means that the match might end before Imiako could fracture every bone in Mando’s body.
He was barely hanging onto the platform with one hand, having managed to kick Imiako over the edge by launching himself feet first at the Houk. But Imiako had 'miraculously' landed on a nearby platform, and it was about to bring him within striking distance again.
Mando readies himself, growling through clenched teeth to gain another handhold.
Suddenly, every platform in the Arena stalls. A shocked, disgruntled murmuring picks up. It takes a full minute for the crowd to realize that Rumia Kar is standing atop the Victor’s Dais, hands on her knees, howling like a madwoman laughing in the face of death.
That building tension amongst the crowd, now thwarted, finds new life in an angry chorus of frustrated rage. They boo, and the sound is a chaos.
After watching, suspended on the edge of ecstasy, hoping to witness a new unimaginable height of Imiako’s brutality or some clever ingenuity from the Mandalorian—all the audience can do now is scream. And riot.
You're too afraid to look for Mighty Barka’s reaction. Imagine how much money all those gangsters just lost — since there is no way they put their bets down on Rumia Kar, the fucking Trandoshan, to win this match.
Shrugging out of your shoulder holster, you slip the leather straps over Nito and adjust the buckles. “The ion pulse from this pistol is enough to bring down a Gundark. Take the kid and head back to the ship. Go the long way around, through the Duwani district. There’s some kind of festival going on, so if anyone’s following, you should get lost in the crowd. As soon as you’re inside the Crest, engage security protocols.”
“Do not lower them for anyone or anything until we get back.”
Bless Nito, who simply nods, taking it all in stride.
“What are you going to do?” He asks.
“Save the Mandalorian,” and a tug of your eyebrow is all he can see of the wink you shoot him from behind the visor.
************************
Read the next post - Post #6: I'm here to rescue you
Go Back to Volume 1 - All posts
#sexymando#sexy mando#mando smut#the mandalorian smut#mando x you#mando x reader#din djarin#mando fanfiction#the mandalorian#mandalorian smut#mandalorian fanfic#star wars smut#din djarin smut#din djarin x you#din djarin x reader
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
So I haven’t watched the new episode of The Mandalorian yet, and although I have been enjoying this season for the most part I have had my issues with it. But I have to admit, it is starting to make me not as interested in the show when they keep sidelining Din and giving all the character development to Bo. I have nothing against her getting development. In fact, I’ve liked her more this season than I ever have. But not at the expense of Din’s character development. You can have them both grow, but I think Din should have just as much as time to do so as she has had. And for whatever reason they just haven’t done that yet. There are 3 more episodes left and we have a whole other season, but I feel like we’ve lost focus. I know people have said well it’s called the mandalorian that could mean any of the mandalorians. True, it could. But that hasn’t really been established. If we were following multiple mandalorians from season 1 and on, the ok. We went from focusing on Din and Grogu to more of an ensemble cast which I’m sure some people don’t mind. But the whole draw of the show, for me anyway, is the dynamic between Grogu and Din, and the two of them going on these adventures. I have no issue with there being a larger cast as long as they still get a significant portion of time. But so far they kind of haven’t. Honestly, I just miss it being the two of them.
Now the stuff with Bo. I like her a lot more now and I think she’s really come around. But I am a little salty that the guy who was a staunch advocate of the creed, who risked everything to save a foundling(twice), and who currently has the dark saber, has been completely passed over for someone who just joined, saved a couple foundlings, and saw the mythosaur down in the water. I know it’s not official that Bo is the leader yet. But I’m like damn Din has gone through all this shit, and really walked both paths if not reluctantly, and the armorer was like yeah whatever. I don’t think she’s shady but it just raises questions for me. I don’t know, it would just be nice to see Din taking more of that leadership role. True, he never really has. But he’s always brought people together, and despite his more standoffish nature he’s always made a lot of allies. I guess this whole rant is to say I just kind of miss how the show used to be. It shouldn’t be used as a place for back door pilots, or potential spin offs. And it doesn’t need to tie into the sequels or the rest of the galaxy at large. That was what people enjoyed so much about the first season, and even though I enjoyed the second season, all the cameos kind of started to rub me the wrong way, even though I did enjoy them. This show could be mission of the week, Din and Grogu just vibing, and I would be good with it.
5 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello ! I hope you're well !
I love your fic If..., and I was wondering if you were planning on continuing it ? Have you lost your inspiration ? Or your love for Ballum ?
Hi! Thank you so much! I certainly have not lost my love for Ballum at all. Still huge fans of them and their relationship.
There’s a few reasons why I stopped posting my writing. The least important is working 60 hours a week recently, it’s hard to find the time but that’s just what slows me down a little, not stops it. I have been writing Ballum and planning bits out but not sharing anything so far. I will eventually, under this or a pseudonym. My inspiration has never gone at all! I’ve always got about 10 ideas kicking around my head!
A huge reason was someone I met in the Ballum fandom and had a relationship with in real life pretty much caused me to lose any confidence in my writing. The first contact we had was them complimenting my writing. After a year and a half of knowing them, countless lies, betrayal, gaslighting, emotional abuse, it finally ended and that was during my writing of ‘If’. When I was in a relationship with them, they were dismissive of my writing, making me feel it wasn’t good enough because they weren’t interested in reading it or only mentioned negatives. I didn’t realise until I thought back and saw them without the rose tinted glasses on, and saw their manipulation. They had their own writing which I gave time and effort into supporting them with and looking back I realise how much of a parasite they were to my creativity and ideas. They had no individuality themselves so tried to bandwagon on mine. Their words towards me and actions towards my writing certainly caused confidence in my ability to crumble for a long time. I felt so completely alone.
There’s only two stories I’ve left unfinished, one I was writing when my mum died, and this one. The memory of that feeling of rock bottom just keeps coming back every time I look at them.
While I haven’t lost an inch of love for Ballum, I’ve lost a lot for the fandom. Don’t get me wrong, I have met individuals from the fandom who are close friends, or wonderful caring and kind people. But as I was recovering from this awful treatment and abuse I had from this one person, it made me realise what an awful place the fandom really was. A large portion speak in mainly negatives about the storylines and the show. So I talk about Ballum to people privately who actually love them and are interested in them as a fictional relationship, and the story arcs they have instead of constant petulant moaning. I also received homophobic comments from people in the fandom when we first found out about the Ben and Lewis story when I suggested that it was one that would be helpful to so many people who have been subjected to SA, which wasn’t the popular view of a lot of the fandom. Not many made these comments towards me, but many liked these people’s words or stood their supporting them. It seems a lot of people in the fandom are supportive of queer relationships if it means watching two young men kiss but not so much when other issues relevant to the community come up.
But like I said, it’s not everyone, far from it, and some of the best people I know are in the fandom. But the ethos of that fandom is vacuous and tarnished in my eyes.
Thank you so much again for your lovely words though! 💙
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Convention blog (part 1):
I haven’t been to any convention ever in my life, so I don’t have an experience to write about unfortunately and had to watch the True Otaku documentary. After reading some of the other blog posts and the experiences that some of my classmates had I honestly think it would have been really cool to experience one of these conventions, but I don’t think I will ever attend one honestly, unless my friend forces me to as I am just not that into things like this. The documentary provides an insightful look into the Japanese anime and manga fanbase. Although the term "otaku" is often associated with conflicting ideas, this documentary explores the lives of individuals who belong to this subculture in great detail, offering insight into the ways in which youth culture, fandom, and cultural identity interact and change within this community. Originating in Japan, the term "otaku" refers to those who have an intense passion for manga and anime. By depicting its members as fervent and committed aficionados rather than as socially awkward misfits, "True Otaku" illustrates this subculture. Focusing on the individual experiences of otaku is one of the documentary's most significant features. These stories demonstrate how closely their identities and fandom are entwined. Many people consider anime and manga to be more than just pastimes; they are integral parts of their life that influence their social relationships, worldviews, and even job decisions. The documentary highlights that being an otaku is more about expressing oneself and establishing a feeling of community than it is about running away from reality. Youth culture is a dynamic and ever-evolving phenomena, and in Japan, a large portion of this demographic is the otaku subculture. The documentary illustrates how young people use manga and anime as a coping mechanism for the challenges of puberty throughout their formative years. These stories' characters frequently deal with issues that the audience experiences, making for relevant stories that have a strong emotional impact on younger viewers. "True Otaku" is an example of how fandom provides a forum for identity development and self-examination. The otaku community gives young people a platform to express their uniqueness and make connections with like-minded peers in a world that frequently prizes conformity. In contrast to the loneliness that might come with puberty, this connection promotes a sense of acceptance and camaraderie. The documentary also discusses the artistic side of otaku culture, where followers create their own content in addition to consuming it. Young otaku are encouraged to discover and display their talents through cosplay and doujinshi, or fan-made comics. Through increased engagement with their interests through these creative channels, they further cement their identities within the subculture. As portrayed in "True Otaku," fandom encompasses more than just a love of manga and anime; it's a vital component of cultural identity. The documentary shows how fandom communities establish their own social structures, rules, and values, which then influence the identities of their constituents. These groups provide a haven from the stresses of society at large, enabling people to fully immerse themselves in a setting where their passions are not only acknowledged but also cherished. The documentary also emphasizes how otaku culture is becoming more and more global. Otaku communities have sprung off over the world as a result of the popularity of anime and manga. This cross-cultural interaction strengthens the common identity of being an otaku while also bringing new viewpoints and experiences to the subculture. This phenomena is captured in the documentary, which shows how the otaku identity crosses national lines and promotes a sense of global solidarity. "True Otaku" illuminates the intricacies of youth culture, fandom, and the construction of cultural identities by offering a deep and sympathetic portrait of the otaku subculture.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Week 10 of mda20009: Social Media Conflict and Governance
Social media governance highlights the reality that conflict on social media frequently results from people's craving for power and control by incorporating the themes of conflict, activism, digital citizenship, regulation, community, and inclusion. In actuality, a large portion of social media as a whole is about power—from Facebook group moderators to laws governing the internet as a whole. All levels of government have some form of governance, but its efficacy is frequently questioned. Over one-third of adolescents have experienced cyberbullying, which is a form of harassment that takes place online. Furthermore, since 2017, the proportion of women who have experienced sexual harassment online has doubled (Jagannathan 2021). Sexual harassment online is three times more common among women, especially those under the age of 35 (Jagannathan 2021).
Childnet International (2018) states that non-consensual sharing of private images or videos, threats, sexualized bullying, and unwanted sexualization (including sending unsolicited material like "dick pics") are examples of this behavior. Up to 10% of Australians claim that they have been the subject of uninvited posting or sharing of naked or semi-naked photos on the internet (Powell & Henry 2015, p. 1). Term like "gaslighting," which was shortlisted for the Oxford English Dictionary's 2018 word of the year, makes these rising levels of harassment evident. Although gaslighting is not a new kind of psychological abuse, its resurgence in our daily language is partly due to its ability to make the victim doubt their own sanity, reality perception, and recollections.
This happens a lot in person, but it also happens a lot online. Anita Sarkeesian, a feminist media critic, has been outspoken about her encounters with online bullying and harassment, particularly from individuals who identify as "anti feminist" YouTubers and bloggers. According to Marwick & Caplan (2018), p. 543, this harassment targets Sarkeesian individuals with "death threats, slurs, and sexually violent language." This behavior shows a glaring lack of control online and insufficient punishment for those who engage in it. There are laws in place to provide some protection, but there isn't a single piece of legislation specifically targeting cyberbullying and internet abuse in Australia. The Australian Human Rights Commission Act 1986 (Cth), the Criminal Code Act of 1995, the Enhancing Online Safety Act of 2015, and the Online Safety Bill of 2021 are a few of them but some haven’t been passed as a firm law yet (Milne 2021).
As technology and the internet is rapidly expanding and innovating, the need for safety laws have never been needed as now, for both the safety of users as well as delivering just and fair consequences for those who abuses and refuse to abide them.
References
References
Childnet International 2018, Defining online sexual harassment, Childnet International, viewed 16 May 2021 <https://www.childnet.com/our-projects/project-deshame/defining-online-sexual-harassment>.
Jagannathan, M 2021, The percentage of women who’ve experienced online sexual harassment has doubled since 2017, Market Watch, viewed 16 May 2021 <https://www.marketwatch.com/story/the-percentage-of-women-whove-experienced-online-sexual-harassment-has-doubled-since-2017-11610569856>.
Marwick, A & Caplan, R 2018, 'Drinking male tears: language, the manosphere, and networked harassment’, Feminist Media Studies, vol.18, no. 4, p. 543
Milne, E 2021, ‘Week 10: Digital citizenship and conflict: social media governance’, MDA20009 Digital communities, learning materials via Canvas, Swinburne University of Technology.
0 notes
Text
More thinking About Making QUeer Games
Do you remember Hannah Gadsby?
Nanette And the Limits of Comedy
Watch this video on YouTube
They’re an Australian comedian, who made the comedy special Nanette, and its follow-up special Douglas. That’s where I know them from. They’re good specials. I liked them a lot. It takes a lot to get me of all people to tune in to a comedian standing in front of an audience just being funny when there’s no presence of a dinosaur or laser beam to keep me from feeling selfconsciously like I’m being educated about art.
If you are at all aware of their work outside of that context, like, say you haven’t watched those but you know you saw them on QI or something, you might perhaps be aware of them primarily because of their presence in the news right now, as I write this, where it seems every shithead on the internet has an opinion on ‘her’ work not being funny. It’s really weird, like some sort of sequential reaction system is set up so that whatever the current thing is, Hannah Gadsby comes up. Australian comedy legend dies? Well, best talk about how Hanna Gadsby doesn’t like him but that just shows how poor a comedian they are. A politician says something stupid in front of a microphone? More important than that is that Hannah Gadbsy, who commented on it, isn’t funny. Hannah Gadsby opens a fine art show about Pablo Picasso? Well, get a load of how Hannah Gadsby isn’t funny.
I think about Hannah Gadsby a lot because on the one hand they have successfully made a large portion of people in my country out themselves as fantastically fucking stupid, but also because in their first show, Nanette, they left me with not one but two enduring gems. I’ve said in the past that I find hindsight is a gift a powerful phrase, but something else that has bubbled along inside me is the anecdote about lesbian content. They describe a queer critic engaging with their work with:
“I was very disappointed in your show this year, Hannah. I just don’t think there was enough lesbian content.” I’d been on stage the whole time. I didn’t… even straighten up halfway through, you know?
It almost feels gauche, rereading the transcript, to pluck this quote out of its context. Its context is that tittering haha oh yeah this is awkward but also very funny set, about how they spend their time being Not Normal around people who want them to be Normal with the threat of violence around them. I mean, Gadsby made a comedy special five years ago about how, y’know, what’s the deal with patriarchal violence, and people are still mad about it now, when I bet they haven’t watched it in ages.
But the quote hangs around in my head whenever I think about queer games.
I mean, what is it that a game is queer? Videogames, when I started writing about them, they had a lot of ways to represent queerness, because games are often about a cinematic representation of moments in a narrative. Videogames, simply put, can show you a lot of stuff, where board games and card games can struggle with showing the same stuff the same way. On the other hand, the way that board and card games can show some details, there’s some room. RPGs can have sidebars explaining that hey, yeah, just so you know, queerness exists in this setting.
But are those ‘queer games?’
There’s this idea I see sometimes expressed that if a player doesn’t engage with something in your game, it’s not really there. You can have all the interesting cars in your game but if they’re background details in a first-person shooter, then you can scarcely consider it a queer game. Is a game queer becuase of how it’s engaged with? How can Mass Effect or Fire Emblem: Who Cares be a queer game when the queerness is entirely optional, in such a way that players who are offended by it can avoid it?
I feel like I write this article every year. Sometimes it’s proud and defiant about how hey, I won’t tolerate talking about this stuff because X or Y. Making exclusions, setting up some kind of list, some kind of rule about it, about what counted, and that’s you know, fine, I think. I don’t feel bad about doing that.
But it got me thinking about queerness in the games I make. Or how I would get you to engage with queerness in games, the way I want to engage with queerness in games. What advice can I give? I personally struggle with the idea of representing romance in games! Which is also weird because I don’t feel bad about representing it in other media, I’m quite fine with writing about characters in relationships.
Even as I write these words out I realise that part of the problem is realising that I still treat characters I put in work I make as being, as it were, ‘my OCs,’ and therefore any story including or involving them is going to be an imposition on anyone else. Like, why should you care about my characters having romantic tension or sexy narratives? You don’t have any reason to care about them. And then the fact that they’re bi or gay or trans or anything feels like an attempt to express this is itself, an attempt to demand attention I don’t deserve.
This is, I’m sure, very normal thinking from creative people.
But the advice question boils away. I almost wish I could give some easy advice: Look, just make media that appeals to you and queerness within you will come through. But the problem is I do that, and I’ve had to start really harping on the fact I’m not straight to get people to not try and check for my queerness papers.
Anyway, the queerest mechanic is pair collection. Why you trying to make two things that are alike into a pair? Like gay sex or something?
Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!
#Making
1 note
·
View note
Note
These are actual facts. And if the anon (or even other people who may see this post and be inclined to agree with the anon and are American) is an American I’d also like to use another sports example: American football. Y’all know what is practically a holiday here? The Super Bowl. A big giveaway? The fact that it’s capitalized whenever you even just type it out. Not to mention practically every single massive corporation will spend literal blood sweat and tears into making extremely memorable Super Bowl commercials to the point where the day after, people will ask you what your favorite commercial was. In fact, I even know people who will only care about the Super Bowl because of the commercials. To give a commercial example, the Super Bowl is the reason why Mr. Peanut died and was resurrected into a baby peanut. I remember people talking about that for at least a couple weeks.
And to reiterate what @orionsangel86 has said: fandom is a community. The Super Bowl is a direct result of people within the community, who care about American football as much as they do about Jesus, have found a way to create a nationwide event that is now basically a part of the culture here. And you want to say fandom is unimportant? I’d like to see you try to convince a large sum of people to not watch the Super Bowl this year whenever it comes around and to not have people angry with you if you watched the game and they haven’t been able to and you spoiled the outcome of it. You know what that sounds like to me? Fans of a show that will gather around at home and watch latest episodes of their show and will get angry with someone who spoils a major plot point.
Another football example is Texas football. I was born and raised here so I always thought every state viewed football as a religion in the same way that Texans do. I wasn’t even aware that other states don’t go as hard with their halftime marching band shows as we do with just high school football.
youtube
This was the marching show my senior year. It wasn’t even for a football game, we have legitimate marching festivals here and my former high school hosts one. One could argue that marching band here is a spinoff of the football fandom.
At my high school alone, a large portion of the school’s income came from football games because you’d have people like my parents who would only go to games for the marching band (of which I was part of. Marching with an alto saxophone is much better than a flute. Fight me on that) and parents who had kids on the team or parents who had both band and football kids. There were even people who’d show up just to watch the game because high school football alone is a religion here. College football is an even bigger event. The college my sister went to had MASSIVE games and the marching band would have a new marching show every week. Just look up Texas A&M football games and you’ll see what I’m talking about.
But TL;DR, fandom is 100% a community. Even if you’re not an American, you can very easily find things that take place within your country that is essentially a fandom, but often isn’t viewed that way because it’s basically part of the culture. Try to take those things away and you tell me again how unimportant fandom is.
who cares about fandom. it's shows. shows aren't important american
This ask is really confusing to me. Are you calling me American as an insult? If so thats super funny to me since I most certainly am not American!
I know this is just someone being a dick for the sake of being a dick, but I will take this ask sincerely because I have the freedom of choice to do so. Who does care about fandom? Lots of people actually.
You know what is a huge and important fandom to lots of people worldwide? Football. Maybe you don't see it the same way because it's not about some dumb TV show, but its still a fandom. They even have different factions for different teams, and it gets weirdly nationalistic during global competition events. So who cares about fandom? Well, for football fans, I'd say about 5 billion people.
But limiting it to those unimportant shows anon has chosen to sneer at, well, in recent years comic cons around the world have reported a total of 1.8million+ attendees each year. And that is just a fraction of the fans who can afford to attend these conventions (plus these are only the big conventions not including the likes of Creation cons). Regardless of how much you sneer at it, fandom is huge and a huge part of many peoples lives. Fandom has brought people community, support, connection, and a mountain of creativity at its heart.
On a personal note, some of my best friends were met through Supernatural Fandom. We still talk regularly to this day and I try to meet up with them as often as possible even though we are all dotted all over Europe and America. Without Supernatural, a so called unimportant show, I wouldn't have those real life connections which mean so much to me and have made my life better.
Ask any actor from one of those unimportant shows, and they will tell you how they have met with fans who literally found reason to keep living through the shows that they loved, that the struggles and journeys of the characters they are passionate about literally saved their lives. Tell those people that fandom isn't important, that their shows are meaningless eh? Tell that to someone who was thinking of ending their own life but chose to keep living because they saw how important that was to their fave characters.
The Supernatural actors put out an actual crisis hotline to support fans struggling with depression and suicidal thoughts. They started campaigns like Always Keep Fighting and You Are Not Alone because they saw how much their fandom relied on them and the fandom they were apart of, because the show was their only escape from a harsh reality. Misha Collins was able to get his Random Acts charity off the ground through the support of fandom, and to this date Random Acts has succeeded in supporting communities worldwide, including providing disaster relief in Haiti and building a school in Nicaragua.
So much for an unimportant show, when its very existance has spurned a crisis network and a charity that continue to support and save lives globally.
And thats JUST Supernatural. There is so much work done by fandoms everywhere, for all different shows. Fandom is Community. And when communities get together they create wonderful things, they support each other, and sometimes, they save lives.
Who are you to say community is unimportant? Who are you anon? a user of Tumblr.com, the fandom website, to make such a bold and wrong claim? Television is storytelling, and storytelling is one of the oldest art forms. It makes us human, connects us with our past and speaks to our hearts and souls. We share our love and joy and passion through storytelling. It is where we find escape from the humdrum of our daily lives, it is where true magic lies. There is nothing unimportant about that.
#fandom#fandom is community#football is a religion here#legitimately I’ve seen people pray before games#so that way their team would win#Youtube
20 notes
·
View notes
Note
Could you do headcanons of Steven and Marc with a s/o who’s one of Wolverine’s kids?
Steven and Marc with a Wolverine!Reader
Masterlist:
——
- Ok. First of all, I have to confess I did a deep dive researching this as I don’t really know all that much about Wolverine and his kids, other than a bit from watching Logan.
- Amongst my research I found out that he has like 16 kids in various comics, shows, and movies? Like, dude. He’s adopted, been cloned, naturally conceived with most of the Marvel universe (this guy does not know how to have safe sex) and had kids without powers too.
- Side note - did you also know that a lot of his kids are pretty pissed with him and try to kill him? I mean, the poor guy really cannot catch a break.
- ANYWAY… There has been a lot of variations amongst his kids, as they all have slightly different abilities etc. However, most tend to have the same traits from Logan - including his ability to heal, claws, strength, and heightened senses. So, it’s more than likely if you were his kid, you would too.
- I’d like to think you’re one of the kids who does have a decent-ish relationship with your dad, even if you’re haven’t always been the closest. It’s more than likely he didn’t know you existed for a large portion of your life, but after you two find out about one another you’ve been slowly building a relationship.
- This is most likely due to the fact that you’ve needed his help flying under the radar from people who would wish to hurt you, be it mutant haters, or government agencies.
- It’s also probably how you ended up in London and eventually meeting Steven and Marc, after you decide to move cities and create another identity for yourself.
- This also means you fit in with their life pretty well, as they also understand the need to lay low and not be found by certain people. Marc’s military record is mostly the issue, but the whole avatar for an ancient God thing doesn’t help either. So, if you did have to keep packing up and moving, none of you would have too much of an issue with it.
- Plus, Marc and Steven won’t say no to having someone like the Wolverine in your corner either, whether it be helping you come up with an escape plan, or just as a friend… I mean, they probably wouldn’t tell him about you two being an item until they absolutely have to.
- “What?” Marc would argue, “just because we have a magic suit doesn’t mean we still feel like going ten rounds with your old man over your honour or whatever.”
- Steven would agree. “Yeah, I uh… tend not to introduce myself to parents - not that I ever get that far, given the whole cuckoo part about sharing my body. Doesn’t go down too well.”
- Like Steven, you’d probably have a great relationship with your mum. You’d both bond over the silly things you both do, like calling them when you can and having dumb nicknames for one another.
- He’d help you pick out postcards to send her whenever you move on from somewhere, just to let her know you’re alright and happy.
- You and Marc would bond over the scars you both wear, each with a different story or battle behind it. After all, you may have Logan’s healing abilities but, like him, soft tissue doesn’t always heal right and leaves scars behind from certain injuries.
- It makes you seem more human to him, which makes him feel more comfortable around you.
- “This one?”
- “Iran, from a sniper.”
- “Ouch.”
- “Ouch indeed… what about this one?”
- “Fell out of a tree as a kid, but the one next to it I got from some jack ass in an alley in Montreal.”
- You like the way he and Steven will gently trace your scars, like some kind of dot to dot puzzle, knowing how it calms you.
- You do have a stubborn streak though, which causes issues given the fact Marc has the same, and Steven hates it when either of you get like that. He’d feel like the conscience sometimes, given the fact you and Marc can be a bit gun-ho about things.
- You can also be a bit jaded as you both know the world can be full of crappy people who do bad things.
- Both Marc and Steven have enough crazy within themselves that they’d be the first to understand if you ever felt bad about or regretted what you were.
- Neither would allow you to feel bad though, and tell you all the amazing things about you that you ignore. Being a mutant isn’t something to be ashamed of and they’d be the first to fight anyone who said differently.
- If anything, they’d think it was pretty impressive… and that’s coming from the team with the powers from a god.
#ithebookhoarder#masterlist#thesilentmage#moon knight#moon knight series#Oscar Isaac#steven grant x y/n#steven grant x you#steven grant x reader#marvel x reader#marc spector x you#marc spector x reader#marc spector x y/n#marvel x you#marvel headcanons#wolverine
154 notes
·
View notes
Note
That ask where you wrote about the reactions from the staff to you getting sick, in the ask you mentioned Vinnel getting abandoned in the past? Is there any more information that you haven’t told us yet of his past/childhood and what he was doing before working for the clergy? I always want to know more cus vinnel and fank-e are my favourites :D
TW: Child neglect, child abuse, violence, murder.
Vinnel was your standard slime kid for a portion of his childhood life. He came from upper class parents who, up until that point, seemed to be perfectly loving and considerate.
Things started going downhill as soon as little Vinnel began to show signs of illness. Now, some slimes are late bloomers. They don't learn to control their form as early as the others, need more coaxing, more molds. Yet the more time passed, the worse Vinnel's physical shape seemed to get.
While he was cognitively developing faster than his peers, Vinnel's pretty reddish-orange hue was becoming dull, he could barely shape his own head some days, motor skills and accuracy deteriorating faster day by day. He refused to move too much and would often snap at his own friends, because every part of his body seemed to hurt no matter what he did. His slime rejected the light, the heat stung and the cold stabbed, the air itself felt stifling. He was never in a bright mood anymore, all he wanted to do was hide under his bed and play with his dolls, watch television, trying to ignore the chronic pain, the exhaustion, and the nagging of his own parents.
They told him to focus, to try, to stop throwing tantrums, that he was doing it on purpose because he was spoiled. Tension was high in that household, and arguments were frequent.
The moment Vinnel started developing odd growths in his body, teeth becoming crooked and eyes glassy, the moment his slime started turning pitch black- His parents did something that no caregiver ever should. They gave up on Vinnel entirely.
They ignored him. Neglected him. He lived with his parents, sure, but he was essentially alone. The neighbor's kids were given more attention than him. He was treated like a complete disappointment, a stain left to its own vices. And that was fine for Vinnel, he didn't trust his own parents, didn't want to love them, the little slime only ever felt safe in the comfort of his room, surrounded by the motionless dolls that could never pass judgement, and the fabrics that made his body hurt less as he lost pieces of himself wherever he went.
To this day, he's not sure if their end goal was to hope he would simply perish.
His condition started getting worse enough to the point where he had to resort to drastic measures, seeping inside of particularly large plushies to hold himself together, stealing full body suits to shield his eternally wounded self, fashioning bandages and cloths until he barely looked like a slime anymore. Just a mess of rags wandering around the streets silently. Without any sort of relief from both the physical and emotional distress he endured, Vinnel took to violence as an early way to cope with life. He would hurt anyone who got too close, those who provoked him, and even the poor things that couldn't defend themselves.
As he aged, Vinnel spent less and less time at home, often going entire weeks in abandoned places and hidden corners. People watching, dying inwardly with jealousy. Weeks become months, then years- And he's roaming around aimlessly, slipping on Halloween clown suits, leaving corpses in his wake. No one knows who the killer is because the evidence left behind is too ill to be identified. He becomes a bit of an urban legend. When he's not bringing misery to others, he's trying to pull off the same stunts he used to see on TV as a kid.
Vinnel is eventually picked up by Ludwig, Admin and Patches, when The Clergy's structure is finally set and the three are tasked with finding staff candidates. They happened to stumble upon the slime in an alley. Krulu sees something in him, an unchecked fury, bitterness rotting the monster to the core, a desire to maim and break and make everyone feel the pain he does.
It reminded the higher of himself.
Vinnel is offered a job several times. A chance for belonging, found family, an opportunity to get relief via inflicting suffering upon others, to be himself freely- The slime violently rejected every request, having to be pursued several times until Admin successfully corners him and, a tad forcefully, explains that his pain can be nulled. That the monster can feel normal again, go outside without having to worry about his consistency, doesn't he want it to stop? Isn't every waking second a chronic nightmare? Doesn't he wish others would take him seriously? Of course he does. And all of those can be attained with a simple price.
Swearing loyalty to krulu.
A deal is struck. Vinnel's suit is created.
The establishment gains a very dedicated, jolly and vicious worker.
75 notes
·
View notes
Text
“I’m not wearing my sexy underwear tonight”
Pairing: Johnny x reader (or OC)
Word Count: 3988
Genre: fluff, not smut but they both really wanna toe the line
Warnings: language, some sexy kisses (cover your eyes kids)
Summary: Johnny takes his best friend on their first date
A/N: this has absolutely morphed into a long term couple, because apparently Princess has taken the reins 😂 if you like this, check out the rest of their story so far on my masterlist!
You were nervous. Friends with Johnny since diapers, and somehow you were nervous to meet him in five minutes. You glanced at the time—make that four minutes.
Pacing back and forth in front of the door, you smoothed down your dress again. All Johnny had told you was to dress up. He might be a fashion king, but he wasn’t exactly the best at sharing details. You’d teetered between twenty different outfits before finally settling on a happy medium. Couldn’t show up to a museum in an evening gown. Well, you supposed you could, if you even owned one. So the little black dress at the back of your closet was the final choice. Safe enough for just about every venue, since Johnny hadn’t told you where your date would be.
You sucked in a breath, fighting against the nerves tight in your stomach. Your first date, oh my gosh. How were you supposed to date Johnny? You’d done practically everything together already, what made this different from going to the movies together last week? Aside from the obvious—last week, you didn’t know what Johnny’s lips felt like on yours.
Then you groaned at your sudden realization. Jeez, you couldn’t do anything right in this relationship with Johnny. You were about to have your first date but you’d already had a hot and heavy makeout session at an unmentionable hour of the morning. So much for “will I kiss him afterwards?” Dating for five seconds, and everything was already out of order. You wanted to scream, but before your thoughts could really start spiraling, you heard a knock at the door.
You were sweating, oh gosh. Did you need to reapply deodorant? You froze, staring at nothing. Until another knock sounded, this time accompanied by Johnny’s familiar voice, “Yo, are you ready to go?”
You sagged in relief. Nothing else would have snapped you out of the nervous cycle better than Johnny being….well, Johnny. And when you finally convinced yourself to open the door, the sight of his easy smile was enough for yours to appear, too.
“Well, uh, hi,” he stuttered, making you giggle.
You slipped on your shoes, grabbed a small purse, and locked the door behind you. Then you linked arms with Johnny, “Alright, where to, mystery man? You haven’t told me anything.”
“That’s mostly because I didn’t figure anything out until today.”
Biting your lip to hold back a giggle, you tugged him down the hallway. “No wonder you didn’t share much detail. I should’ve known.”
Johnny tightened his grip on you when you stepped out of the elevator, leading you to the car. He didn’t say much, which was a bit out of character. Frowning up at him, you tried to meet his gaze. He finally looked down at you when he opened the passenger door for you to get in. “You, uh, you look really nice tonight.”
A small smile bloomed, “Not looking so bad yourself, hot stuff.”
* * * * *
Apparently Johnny had picked out a restaurant for dinner. A fancy restaurant. You read through the list of entrees with a barely-concealed grimace. “Do you know what any of these words mean?” you asked him.
Johnny beamed at you, “Nope, that’s half the fun.”
A waiter walked by with a tray destined for another table, and you both gaped at the miniscule portion sizes. “Those look like appetizers,” Johnny said, goggling at the tiny salad. “Maybe I can order several steaks. I’d need about five of them.” He started eyeing the menu again.
“As long as you’re picking up the tab,” you joked.
“Oh, I thought you were,” he said, all wide eyed innocence. You smacked his arm with your menu, fighting a grin at his usual antics. The couple at the next table shot you a look, and you hunched back in your seat.
“Don’t worry, I’m paying. Order whatever you’d like,” Johnny said, still puzzling over the ridiculous dinner options.
You frowned, reaching for your water. But shoot, it probably cost five bucks for tap, you thought with no small amount of horror. You set it back down before you drained more of Johnny’s wallet.
After a few more minutes of torturous silence, trying not to fidget too much, you leaned forward. “Do we even have a waiter?”
Johnny jerked upright, looking over his shoulder at the man in question. “I don’t know?”
“I’ve been trying to make eye contact with the staff for five minutes and they’re all ignoring me.”
Johnny blinked at you. “Wait, are you ready to order?”
“No, I wanna ask if they charge for water.”
“No one charges for water,” he chortled.
“I bet it’s five bucks a glass,” you said, crossing your arms.
Now Johnny was really laughing, and half the restaurant was staring at your table. “Only if it’s imported from the crystal springs of Iceland,” he said, grinning.
“Wait, really?”
“Hell if I know,” Johnny said, making you snort some of your water. You shrunk down in your chair, hiding your red face while he kept laughing.
“I don’t know this man,” you said to the people at the next table. They stared at you, whispering among themselves. Pouting, you turned back to Johnny. “I can’t believe you booked a table here,” you cocked an eyebrow at him. “I thought we were burger joint people, not escargot snobs.”
“Do you really not wanna eat here?” he asked, propping his elbows on the table.
You opened your mouth to respond, but your waiter finally showed up to take your order. “Good evening, can I interest you in anything else to drink?”
“Any Icelandic sparkling water?” Now Johnny was the one snorting inelegantly.
The waiter laughed, despite not knowing the joke. “Can I interest you in a bottle of red? You seem like a red wine woman.”
You smiled politely, reaching for the wine list when he offered it to you. “Sure, I’ll take a look.”
The waiter smirked, eyes landing on you. “I’ll have to card you, miss.”
Your brows raised, but you complied, digging out your wallet. Across the table, Johnny cleared his throat, “Do I look like a red wine guy?” But the waiter barely glanced at him before his eyes were back on you.
“Your photo doesn’t do you justice,” the waiter commented, handing your ID back.
“No one looks good in those pictures,” you chuckled.
“I beg to differ,” he said, then nodded at the wine list. “What can I get you?”
You glanced over at Johnny, who was fidgeting enough to shake the table. Curious. “What do you recommend?” you asked, twirling a strand of hair around one finger.
“You might be interested in one of our finer vintages,” he began, leaning over your shoulder to point out a few wines on the list. You heard a subtle sound, and out of the corner of your eye, saw Johnny’s fingers rapping the table at a rapidly increasing pace. You bit your lip, focusing on the wines again, but not before adding a little more fuel to the fire. Time to test your theory. You crossed your legs, brushing one foot up Johnny’s calf in the process. The man jumped as if electrocuted, his knees banging into the underside of the table.
“How about this one?” you asked innocently, looking up at the waiter again.
“A lovely choice, though it is on the higher range, so I’m not sure—”
“We’ll take it,” Johnny announced, plucking the wine list from your fingers and shoving it at the waiter.
You raised an eyebrow, but the waiter simply smiled at you, apparently unbothered by growly Johnny. “I’ll bring that right out for you,” he said, taking the wine menu and leaving you to suffer over dinner options.
Johnny cleared his throat, leaning towards you again. “That waiter’s a bit weird, huh?” he asked, watching the man walk away. “He didn’t even ask what I wanted.”
You donned your best sparkly-eyed expression, “But he’s being so friendly! He really deserves a nice tip, he had some helpful suggestions.”
Johnny frowned, “He’s obviously flirting with you.”
“No way,” you laughed, waving him off.
Johnny rolled his eyes, “Trust me. He’s flirting with you more than I am, and I’m the one taking you on a date.”
You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table. “Maybe you should start flirting with me some more, then.”
Johnny sent you an indecipherable look. You wondered if your teasing had worked. But Johnny seemed to have calmed down some, now that the helpful waiter was out of sight.
You shrugged, sitting back in your chair. You changed the subject, giving the man a break. “Seriously, we don’t need to spend this much on dinner. I feel bad.”
“I thought you’d like this place,” Johnny said, brows furrowing.
“I will literally go anywhere with you, it doesn’t matter, I just….I dunno, I feel like I don’t fit in here.” You weren’t quite sure how to express your fear that people would call you a gold-digger or something, only dating Johnny now that he’d achieved success. Even if the two of you knew better, it still made your stomach twist. And not in the nice way it did while watching Johnny’s hands playing with his water glass. Shoot, shoot, shoot, now his fingers were wet from the condensation. You really didn’t need to know what that looked like. Had his hands always been that large? You shifted in your seat.
Johnny’s mouth twisted in a wry smile, “I don’t know if either of us really fit in with the rich old person vibe, but I heard the food is good.”
I’d rather have a bite of you, you thought to yourself, twisting the napkin in your lap. You’d never seen him in a suit before. Or at least, not in person.
Johnny coughed suddenly, staring at you with wide eyes. “What?”
Oh shit, did you say that out loud? Your cheeks burned. “Um, I’d be, uh,” you stuttered, trying to cover your mistake, all confidence extinguished. “We could get burgers, or something.”
Johnny sat back in his chair, eyes on yours. He smirked, and you wanted to disappear into a hole in the ground. Oh no, he definitely heard you.
“As long as I get to keep watching you,” Johnny said, voice low. “You really are beautiful, not just tonight. Every night.”
You opened your mouth, not sure what to say, but knowing that you wanted Johnny to keep looking at you like that. Like you were the main course. “Johnny, I—”
“Your wine, miss,” the waiter had returned. You bit back a frown, knowing he was just doing his job. But he seriously couldn’t have waited another minute?
“Thank you,” you murmured, sampling the first sip before allowing the waiter to pour both glasses.
“Can I interest you in any appetizers?” he asked, pouring Johnny’s wine.
You blinked, having forgotten the menu entirely. Across the table, Johnny pulled out the menu, but before he could point anything out, the waiter was hovering over your shoulder. “Might I recommend the cheese board? It will pair beautifully with this bottle.”
“Might I tell you my order?” Johnny said. His smile was sharper than before. You might have teased him some more, but you got a bit distracted by Johnny’s jawline as he turned to speak to the waiter. Honestly, you were having trouble tearing your eyes away from him all night. It felt like seeing him for the first time, and in a way, you supposed you were. You’d always known Johnny was attractive, since the time all boys started to look cute. You’d just never let yourself think about it too much. Best friend mental boundaries and all that.
Maybe if Johnny hadn’t said anything on that night, you wouldn’t have ever seen him like this. You wouldn’t have allowed yourself to admire the column of his neck, or his long fingers as they unbuttoned the top of his shirt. It would’ve been you and your stupid butterflies trapped in the friend zone forever.
Thoroughly distracted now, you bit your lip as you wondered what Johnny’s neck would look like with some new decorations.
“You realize they sell food here, right? You don’t have to look at me like I’m an appetizer,” Johnny whispered across the table dramatically. You startled, looking around, but the waiter had left at some point during your daydream. Oh gosh, did you drool? You pressed the back of your hand to your face discreetly, relieved to find nothing of the sort.
Then your brain caught up to Johnny, and you looked up at him with a smirk, “You’re too big to be an appetizer.”
Johnny choked on a laugh, covering his mouth to hide his smile when the other diners looked your way. When he appeared to have himself under control again, he eyed you from head to toe—or at least what he could see from across the table. He shot you a grin, “You’ll find out soon enough, won’t you?”
You watched him through your lashes, not quite sure what to make of him anymore. You’d had your fair share of fun with other guys, but never in a million years had you imagined flirting with Johnny so blatantly. Let alone in a fancy five star restaurant like this.
A sudden presence at your side startled you, and you jumped a little when the waiter reached over your shoulder to set a dish down. “Sorry for startling you,” he murmured, moving away slightly, but not before brushing your shoulder in apology. “Should I leave you with this for now, or are you ready to order?”
Johnny’s eyes flashed, and you bit back a curse at the waiter’s truly stellar ability to interrupt. “We’re fine, thank you,” you said, unable to stop watching Johnny. Or his hand, slowly tightening into a fist on top of the table.
“Would you like to hear the specials tonight?”
You donned a polite smile, nodding at the waiter to continue. While he read down the list of fancy-sounding entrées, you turned your smile on Johnny, who was vibrating in his seat again. You could’ve sworn your water glasses were shaking, and you held back a giggle. You uncrossed and recrossed your legs, extra slowly to make sure he got the message when you “accidentally” brushed his knee this time. The vibrations stopped, and his eyes burned into you.
“Thank you, we’ll keep looking over the menu,” Johnny interrupted the waiter, his voice deeper than before. Your smile only grew.
Once the waiter was out of earshot, you leaned in. “Can we leave? I can’t even kiss you here.”
“Yep, yes, absolutely,” Johnny said, standing up the second the words were out of your mouth. He nearly upended the table, making you snort. “Right now,” he nodded, striding for the exit.
You scrambled out of your chair, rushing after him. “Johnny,” you hissed, grabbing his sleeve. “We didn’t pay yet.”
He came to a halt in the hallway, and you nearly ran into his back. Then Johnny turned around, and you became very aware of the semi-secluded location as he moved closer. You squeaked out a panicked, “Not here!” You backed away until he finally reached out, one hand circling your waist to reel you in.
Johnny’s eyes moved over your shoulder, then back to yours. He smirked, leaning in close enough for you to feel his lips brushing your cheek as he murmured, “Tell the valet to get the car. I’ll grab the wine.”
You could’ve sworn you felt his hand brush down your back, lower. Your cheeks burned hotter. But when you turned, Johnny’s broad shoulders were disappearing around the corner, and the waiter was hurrying in the opposite direction.
* * * * *
You ended up ditching the car and walking around the neighborhood. You only looked slightly out of place with your high heels and makeup when you ended up at a tteokbokki joint. You’d played rock paper scissors between that and burgers, and Johnny won, as usual.
After dinner, you were reasonably close to your apartment, so Johnny offered to walk you home. It felt like another one of your late-night adventures, except you were usually in sneakers. When your feet got tired, you stopped in the middle of the block to take off the killer heels, sighing in relief. You slung the straps over your wrist, prepared to keep trudging along, when Johnny swooped in. One second, you were on the ground, the next, you were admiring the top view of Johnny’s ass from where you were dangling over his shoulder.
“Johnny, what the fuck,” you asked breathlessly, dying of laughter. And from his shoulder digging into your diaphragm.
“Are you crazy? You could cut your feet open,” he scolded you.
“At least there’s a nice view,” you sighed, reaching down to pat his butt.
Johnny put a little bounce in his next step, and you grunted at the impact. You could practically feel his smug little grin. “Hands off the merchandise.”
“How is that fair? You totally copped a feel back at the restaurant.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Bull,” you said. “You went all ‘alpha male’ with that nice waiter.”
Johnny huffed, “I wasn’t jealous.”
You grinned in victory. “I never said you were, mister offering-up-information. Now put me down, you caveman.”
Johnny’s grip on your thighs loosened, and his hands slid up to your waist, holding you tightly as he helped you back down. You froze for a second when your feet hit the ground, not expecting to be face-to-face with him so suddenly. “Wait right there,” Johnny said firmly, finally releasing your waist.
You blinked at him in confusion, watching as he slid his suit jacket off. Your eyes widened when he reached for you, but it was only to wrap the jacket around your waist, tying the sleeves into a knot to hold it in place.
“There,” Johnny said, nodding at his handiwork. Then he turned, crouching down slightly. “Alright, princess, hop on.”
You beamed at him, not that he could see it. It wouldn’t be a walk with Johnny if he didn’t end up carrying you at the end of the night, you chuckled to yourself. You were fiercely grateful to Johnny for thinking of his jacket—you weren’t quite sure how long your skirt was, now that you were wrapped around him like a koala.
“Thanks, Johnny,” you mumbled, burying your face in his neck. “You’re the bestest.” You left a smacking kiss on his cheek, and he laughed, tightening his hold on your legs.
Finally, you arrived at your apartment building. You slid your heels back on, balancing with one hand on Johnny’s arm. “I’ll walk you up,” he said once you straightened.
But when you got to your door, you hesitated, unsure what to say. Was this the part where you kissed him goodnight? You were torn, so at odds with the way the night resembled your old friend dates, only now things were different. What were you supposed to do?
“So,” Johnny drawled, leaning against the wall. “Where’s my tip?”
You stared at him, incredulous. “Your tip?” you repeated.
“Johnny’s chauffeur service isn’t free,” he said. “And if I remember correctly, you still owe me for last time.”
You cocked a hip, smirking slightly. “Any preferred payment methods?”
Johnny blew you an air kiss, and you made a show of catching it. “I take cash or card,” he informed you.
“What a shame,” you murmured, dropping your purse in front of the door. “I seem to have lost my wallet.”
He watched you carefully, barely blinking as you approached him, one slow step at a time. “Apps?”
You stopped mere inches away, “Not a single one.”
He swallowed, and your eyes tracked the movement. Your daydream from before came back with a vengeance—you bit your lip at the thought of marking him up. Then you leaned in, resting one hand on his chest. His heart pounded through the thin dress shirt.
“Will this do?” you asked, lips just barely brushing his. Nothing else touched, aside from your fingertips on his sternum, but you could’ve sworn you felt him shiver.
Oh so slowly, Johnny reached out, hands ghosting over your hips. You smiled against him, then melded your lips to his, bypassing whatever hesitations were holding you back. What was the worst that could happen?
You felt Johnny teasing at the seam of your lips and gratefully opened for him. He inhaled sharply when you inched forward, your chest brushing his. You couldn’t hear anything but your heart racing. And when his fingers dug into your hips, you fell into the kiss. He pulled you in like a magnet until every part of you aligned with him. Your limbs felt molten, burning at the contact.
Johnny pulled away, but not for long. You gasped for air as his lips traced over your jawline, making their way to the delicate skin beneath your ear. He pressed hot kisses there until your neck arched back obediently. And when he nipped at your throat, you whimpered. Thoughtlessly, your hips rocked forward. Johnny gave voice to a deep groan, so you did it again.
Growling lightly, Johnny curled an arm around your waist to pull you harder against him. All of the breath left your body at the feel of his growing hardness against your belly. You fisted your hands in his collar, tugging him away from your neck. You caught a glimpse of his kiss-swollen lips and blown out pupils, then dove back in for more.
While your mouth danced with his, your hands dragged southward. Your fingernails caught on a button or two as you traced the muscle beneath. Now Johnny’s hips were bucking into yours. You grinned savagely into the kiss. You’d just reached his belt when Johnny ripped his mouth away from yours. “Woah, woah,” he gasped. “Slow down, there.”
You panted for air, “What’s wrong?”
Both of you were breathing hard, and you were having a hard time ignoring the elephant in the room. Er, hallway. “You’re not trying to take advantage of me on the first date, are you?” Johnny asked with a breathy chuckle.
You laughed softly, tilting your chin back to get a good look at him. “Is it really taking advantage if you want it, too?” You smirked at him, rolling your hips forward to emphasize your point.
He watched you through half-lidded eyes, and you could’ve sworn you felt him throb. But Johnny, ever the gentleman, smoothed his hand down your back, resting his head back against the wall rather than picking up where you left off. “Cut me some slack, I’m not wearing my sexy underwear tonight,” he said with a crooked smile.
Oh no, now you had heart eyes for the man. You pecked his chin to hide your cheesy grin. “You let me know when you are, hmm?” you hummed, placing another kiss to the base of his throat.
“Princess, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for you.”
You giggled, leaning back in his arms. “Am I so scary?”
Johnny sobered, meeting your gaze. “I just don’t want to mess anything up. Not with you.”
“I don’t think that’s possible,” you smiled at him. “I trust you too much.”
“Oh yeah? You still haven’t told me what you wished for on your fourteenth birthday,” Johnny taunted.
You tilted your head, thinking back. “I didn’t tell you because I was hopelessly in love with you at the time,” you confessed. “Now that’s out in the open, I guess you can know.”
Johnny blinked, taken aback. “Even then?”
“Johnny, I think I’ve loved you forever,” you said, staring up at him. “So of course I wished for the same thing every year.”
“What was it?”
Your smile widened, “Well, it already came true. You said it, too.”
* * * * *
Masterlist
#johnny fluff#johnny imagines#johnny scenarios#johnny fanfic#johnny x reader#johnny suh fluff#johnny suh x reader#johnny suh imagines#johnny suh fanfic#nct imagines#nct fluff#nct fanfic#nct 127 imagines#nct 127 fluff#nct 127 fic
659 notes
·
View notes
Text
ANOTHER TITLE
a/n: personally i’ve been waiting for this part to come since the beginning lmao, so here is the proposal finally!! it’s like so fluffy, almost disgustingly, but i just couldn’t help myself
pairing: Sebastian Stan X Reader
word count: 1.8k
This fic is part of the LITTLE ONE series, but can be read as a simple oneshot as well! Find the masterpost of the series HERE!
masterlist
(gif is not mine)
You’ve been eating like a hormonal teenage boy these past weeks and you know it needs to stop and held under control, but you just can’t help yourself. It’s like your stomach has become a black hole that needs to absorb any and every food that’s home, you’re constantly snacking beside the large portions you eat three times a day, there’s always something you’re craving, the shopping list on the fridge is changing every hour because you think of something else to eat.
Luckily, you haven’t gained that much weight besides the noticeable bump that’s your baby in your belly, seems like your little girl does need all the food and she uses it instead of letting it all get stuck on other parts of your body, so you’re fine for just now.
Sitting on the couch, watching some kind of soap opera, you’re snacking on an entire jar of Nutella this time, shamelessly stuffing your mouth with the sweet, thick stuff, pretty sure that nothing will be left of it by the end of the day. Sebastian is away again for his second filming that was scheduled even before you found out you were pregnant and he messed around with it a little, shortening it once again and you just visited him last weekend. Now that you are pushing the end of your second trimester, your bump is quite evident, not something you can hide easily, so when you showed up on set with your boyfriend, you didn’t even try to cover it up, knowing well someone would spot it sooner or later. However everyone on the team has been so respectful, keeping the news to themselves, because no headlines have been made about your pregnancy just yet, keeping the secret even longer. To be honest, you’re surprised it hasn’t been discovered sooner, you thoughr someone would catch you out and about and see right through your baggy clothes and sell the news to the tabloids, but now you are in the sixth month and no one knows a thing.
Your phone chimes next to you, a text from Seb and you hum to yourself happily, putting the jar aside to grab the phone and see what he wrote.
“How are my two favorite girls doing? Miss you a lot!”
He even attached a silly selfie of himself in hair and makeup, he looks adorable with the clips in his hair and some kind of patches under his eyes. Like a real beauty guru.
Grabbing the Nutella, you place it on top of your bump as you move the phone to a lower angle and take a selfie that makes your bump look even bigger, the jar on top and you grinning widely at the camera as you snap a picture and send it to him with your reply.
“Enjoying our third snack of the day at 11 am! Miss you too, can’t wait to see you next week!”
He reads the message right away, his reply coming just seconds later.
“Look at that bump! You look gorgeous, baby! Can’t wait to see you too, have fun with your sister today, love you lots Xx”
Since he has left you’ve been trying to keep yourself busy so you don’t miss him too much and you’re also using these weeks to spend as much time with your friends and family as possible, knowing well once the baby arrives you won’t be going out that much for a while, nestled up in your home, learning the ropes of being a mother. Today you are meeting up with your sister, she is taking you out to this alleged new, quite fancy restaurant you haven’t heard about before. She claimed that it’s really exclusive, so you don’t have to worry about being photographed or bothered, but she also told you to glam yourself up for the occasion. It’s gonna be some nice sister time, something you haven’t been able to do in a long time.
You take the assignment seriously, doing your hair and makeup the best you can and you decide to put on a flowy maxi dress with a soft, knitted cardigan, very much going for a kind of cottage core vibe. Leaving just in time you text your sister that you’re on your way, putting the address into the GPS and heading out of town, because the place is near the beach. She texts you back that she’ll meet you there and so your short little road trip begins. Sitting in the car you’re listening to one of the many playlists Sebastian has made for you and the baby, he likes to play them at home, humming the songs under his breath, hoping to start educating your little girl in the field of music as early as possible. You have to admit he has a good taste, so you don’t mind it at all.
As you follow the instructions of the GPS you find the place that’s supposed to be your destination, but it doesn’t seem like a restaurant at all, more like a mansion of some kind, a very expensive looking if you are being honest. There are no other cars, no sign of other people so as you park at the front you call your sister.
“Hey, I’m right outside, but I have a feeling I’m at the wrong place? It doesn’t look like a restaurant.”
“Oh, don’t worry! You’re at the right place! I’m a little late, but I’ll be there soon, just go inside, they are expecting us!” she assures you, but you’re still not convinced.
Ending the call you approach the entrance and for your surprise the heavy doors open before you could even knock or find the bell. A man in a tuxedo appears in front of you, smiling warmly at you.
“Miss Y/L/N?”
“Uh, yeah,” you nod, a little shy and confused.
“Please, follow me,” prompts as you walk inside and the two of you start crossing the grandiose hall of the building.
At this point you are sure it’s not a restaurant, but you have no idea why your sister wanted you to come here. You want to ask the man if you’re even at the right place, but he called you by your name so he was expecting you, this has to be the place where you’re supposed to be. More and more questions pile up in your head as you follow him out to the backyard, a gigantic, flower-filled garden that’s straight out of a fairytale, a path leading down to the beach where there’s a dreamy little pergola with even more flowers and fairy lights and as your eyes fall on the figure standing in the middle of the pergola, you immediately gasp.
Because surrounded with all the flowers and lights, there is Sebastian standing in an elegant suit, smiling widely at you as the man next to you helps you down the stairs before you start walking down the path to him.
Tears are flooding your eyes, because you already know what it is, but you can’t believe it’s really happening. He was so sneaky, he got home from filming earlier and even made your sister play along to surprise you, he is such a romantic soul, no one can change your mind about that!
“You’re not in Atlanta!” you tell him when he is finally close enough to hear you. He chuckles sweetly, taking a few steps forward to meet you sooner, his hands finding your waist as you cup his face in your hands, pulling him down to kiss you right away.
“No, I’m not, baby,” he smirks, his hands sliding to your belly, gently stroking the sides as you wipe your tears away, but there’s no use, because the next moment, he steps back a little, just enough so that he can get down on one knee and you’re crying again when you see him pull out a little velvety box from his pocket.
You were expecting it. You knew he would propose before the baby arrives, but you just didn’t know when and how, but he surely outdone himself with his little surprise.
“My Love, Y/N,” he starts after a deep breath, his hands finding yours and you can feel the shaking, but you’re not sure if it’s coming from yours or his. Probably both. “I’ve spent the best years of my life with you and I haven’t been the same man since the day I met you, but in the best way possible. You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met and I’m so lucky that you did not only choose to be with me, but you are now carrying our baby under your heart as well, out little one who is equal parts of you and me, though you’re doing ninety percent of the job here,” he adds with a chuckle, making you laugh through your tears. “I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you the moment you were so badass on your first date, kissing me when I didn’t have the balls to do the first step, but I’m glad you did. I fell in love with you right then and there and the same thing has been happening every day, over and over again since then. I know we went a little out of order with everything we had planned,” he smirks, glancing down at your bump before his blue eyes find yours again, “but that doesn’t change the fact that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so I have a question for you.”
He pops the lid of the box open, a gorgeous, brilliant diamond ring coming to your vision, sparkling in the warm afternoon Sun so perfectly, it takes your breath away.
“Y/N Y/L/N, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” he asks, clearly nervous, even though there’s no doubt about your answer, you’ve told him plenty of times before that you want to marry him, but still, it’s a huge moment in both your lives.
“Yes, yes, yes!” you nod eagerly as you both start laughing in relief, his shaky fingers tagging the ring out of the box and sliding it to your finger gently, before he brings your hand to his mouth and kisses the ring.
Then he finally stands up and you basically throw yourself into his arms, kissing him like your life depends on it as he kisses you back with just as much force.
“I love you and I can’t wait to call you my wife,” he sighs pleased against your lips.
“Mm, another title in the line? Girlfriend, baby mama, fiancé and then wife,” you giggle giddily.
“You missed one,” he cocks an eyebrow at you slyly.
“Which one?”
“Love of my life.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!
#sebastian stan#sebastian stan fanfiction#sebastian stan fluff#sebastian stan blurb#sebastian stan oneshot#sebastian stan one shot#sebastian stan fiction#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan x y/n#sebastian stan x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x reader
394 notes
·
View notes