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pebblysand · 2 months

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WELCOME BACK TO THE PAGE PALS PROJECT! AS A REMINDER, THE "PAGE PALS" PROJECT IS A GROUP RE-READ OF CASTLES. FOR MORE INFORMATION, PLEASE READ THIS POST HERE.

THIS WEEK, WE'RE DOING CHAPTER 2. BELOW, YOU'LL FIND MY THOUGHTS AS A CONVERSATION STARTER. FEEL FREE TO SEND IN ASKS IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS/THOUGHTS, AND TO JOIN OUR DISCORD SERVER FOR FURTHER DISCUSSION.

HANDY LINKS/INFO:

chapter: ii. out of ash (ashes twirl)

wordcount: 10, 476

playlist: notes here

castles FAQ: here

g e n e r a l t h o u g h t s:

for a very long time, this chapter used to be my favourite, and i still hold it in very high regard. i don't know what it is about it, it just feels like ✨vibes✨. it's both incredibly funny at times, and incredibly sad, and i feel like it really exhibits that awkward post-war happy/sad balance that is so important to castles. even if it's no longer my favourite cause i'm not quite sure which is my favourite anymore, i still think chapter 2 has some of my best writing in this fic. i'll go through a few chosen bits below but i feel like it has that general sense of messiness and melancholy that i really like in the early days of this story.

just like with chapter 1, you might notice a few changes i've made along the way, depending on when you read it last. again, i don't think it's anything major but if you do notice, you'll see that i didn't actually delete anything, just moved things around a bit. i think it flows better that way. i also added some stuff - i'm curious to see if you'll spot it. let me know!

having said that, omg, i'd forgot how SLOW the pacing is in this chapter. don't get me wrong, i think it needs to be slow for the purposes of telling the story, but it's very much like: this is them leaving the hotel, this is them having breakfast, this is them testifying - it is very step by step lol. i worry about my pacing in the later chapters, sometimes, but i clearly forgot about this one lol.

g i n n y:

Generally, reading this just this morning, I couldn't help but feel this raw sense of panic in Ginny, throughout this chapter. I think obviously, it's something that only really makes sense and becomes apparent on re-read, but there's this way you really feel how fucking terrified she is that Harry will find out. I hate to say this, but the way she acts with him, that summer, is almost reminiscent of her "relationship" with Amycus, actually. She is watching his every move, everything he says, everything she says, trying to make sure he doesn't find out. And, I don't think the pretending and the lying comes easy to her, I think it basically tears her apart, but those are skills that she "learnt" with Amycus. Being cued into his every emotion, expertly toying that line between saying too much and too little. She is almost manipulating him, into thinking they have this connection, and that them not talking is the Right thing for them, and it's not really her fault, it's how fear has wired her to function, but I find it chilling.

h i g h l i g h t s:

A year later, roses bloom once again in the gardens of Ottery St Catchpole and Harry’s still holding her. Some things in life never change, he muses, although, of course, everything else has changed. They’ve both fought in a war that should never have been theirs and one of her brothers has died, leaving the start of the summer to mend itself without them, trapped in a combative attempt to shovel the little hope it has left down their throats. When Harry caresses Ginny’s skin, the summer of ‘98, she’s naked next to him, the both of them tucked in her small, twin bed at The Burrow. They try to be quiet (always, despite the silencing charms they cast) but they each have a side, now, an oddly domestic habit, and after they have sex, Harry often lies with her body wrapped around him, so close that he’s never quite sure where her limbs start and where his end. Her bed’s pushed up against her window - along the skin of his left arm, he feels the morning dew build as the night chill leaves the air; it trickles down the single-glazed glass. They watch the sun rise together - early mornings and milky skies.

I LOVE THIS PARAGRAPH SO MUCH. idk, jokes aside, i think it's one of my favourite things i've ever written. there's a flow to it i really like and i adore the end of "early mornings and milky skies". and i think it's the beginning of this motif that sort of comes back in chapter 17 where the two of them are always touching, comfortable in bed. the chill of early summer mornings and OH I LOVE IT.

'I'm not a Healer, Harry.'

so, this is actually a line i added in reaction to a) the people in my comments being mad that ginny wasn't weeding secrets out of harry and that being "ooc", and b) a conversation i later had with @btelling. i think there's this misconception in fandom about ginny being a "healer". this idea that she's almost harry's therapist after the war, the only one that can get him talking, etc. and i think firstly, there's very little evidence of that in canon. ginny asks for explanations, often, but she very rarely ever gets them. and secondly, there's this general view of women as healers in general, tending to "sick" men and making them better, which i don't particularly enjoy. so, i guess that was me reacting to all of this.

They barely swallow any food. For the other two’s sakes, Harry tries to hide the knot in his stomach, can tell that Hermione is anxious enough for the three of them - she keeps tapping an annoying rhythm against the table with the tips of her fingers, doesn’t even seem to realise she’s doing it. Her make-up is minimal, the varnish on her nails a plain but shiny transparent. His mind drifts back to Ginny again, how she always painted her nails in bright colours in school, reds and oranges, and golds, performed complicated charm work on them so that it would stick. ‘If I don’t, it always chips with Quidditch.’

i noticed this on a previous re-read but, i don't think i wrote this intentionally but i love the way harry is so infatuated with ginny in this. like, i think this is one of the moments where the fact that he totally idealises her and is very teenage-infatuated-crazy-about-a-girl really shines through. he literally looks at hermione's nails and is like: oh and by the way GINNY does her nails like this. it's so silly but it really shows how obsessed he is with her, but also how shallow it kind of is. he thinks it's deep, because when you're that age you think you're so deep, but it's actually not.

‘When we get there, it’ll be like the craziest circus you’ve ever been to,’ he speaks, quick, before he runs out of words. There is an urgency to the things that he needs to tell them both, ones that they don’t necessarily want to hear. ‘It’ll be dozens and dozens of people standing in a crowd, clapping and screaming, and wanting a piece of you. They’ll want to thank you, insult you, ask you questions, tell you personal stuff about themselves. They don’t mean anything bad by it, they just don’t really realise you’re a person. The press will be there, too, and they will be flashing their cameras just about five inches from your face to try and get a good shot,’ he adds, raising his hand close to his own cheek, showing them the distance. ‘They’ll want to touch you, have you sign stuff, and they’ll keep talking at you from the moment you step out of that fireplace to the moment you get into the lift. We’ll have an escort of Aurors to try and hold them back but I honestly doubt that they’ll be able to do much. It’ll feel like you’re in the longest tunnel you’ve ever been through and you can’t see the exit. At least, wear that scarf over your head, it’ll hide your face and your eyes from the cameras, protect you a bit. Ron, you can use the hood at the back of your robes.’

i think honestly, this is one of my favourite harry moments in the whole fic. i can't possibly tell you how much time i spent on this paragraph, back then. i see it as one of those post-war moments where harry actually does start growing into his own skin and also where you start being faced with the reality of the post-war world. there's this sort of "bubble," i think, throughout chapters 1&2 where they're all very removed from the outside and inside their little burrow bubble, and that obviously bursts big time, with the commission. there's something very brutal about the way harry speaks that day, and i think it really fits.

‘Why were we never kids?’

ah, another castles classic line people quote all the time. yuuup. 💔

That evening, the both of them eat Pad Thai takeaway and sit on the floor in front of the muted hotel telly. They laugh at funny Hogwarts stories of Romilda Vane and crazy things that Harry remembers Luna saying. They drain a few cans of bitter and wait for Ron to come home.

i've always loved this moment loads because it's 1) harry-and-hermione-my-babies!!!! but also 2) it has these trio-codependency vibes that are very present in the early chapters of feeling lost when the three of them aren't together. the way they "wait for Ron to come home" breaks my little heart for them.

Love in its million different forms, the way Dumbledore preached it. Harry loves Hermione the way he loves Ron, like the boy who introduced him to chocolate frogs and the girl who cried in the loo and faced a troll.

again, trio vibes. love, love, love.

l a s t l y:

okay, so i love, love, love the rest of this chapter but also i'm having a hard time articulating precise thoughts so i'll leave it at that for now. please do not hesitate to send me asks if there's anything else you'd like me to comment on, though. very excited to hear your thoughts.

#castles #chapter 2

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jing-yuans-wife · 2 years

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Disclaimer on my writing here

NOTE: Characters in my writing are only from age 21+

Adding to my disclaimer my felines!, turtles stay turtles! In no way can they or will they turn into vampires through any intimate act!. This just made me feel sick writing even the idea-🤢. So no no no no no! Now this was just a lil update my dear felines nya~

🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬

Greetings all my fellow felines, This is your Neko Mama here to tell you how this board is for only mature reading. I suggest if you want a follow back that you either a friend of mine or you state your age. This world is a rather cruel one to stay safe and mentally sound in. So if you wish to request a chapter then it must be of my interest Nya~. So here my only world of happiness is the world of TMNT for my personal reasons. I'm an author in the making and doing some minor writing courses yet still could learn more. No supposed helpful comments to spell a typo wrong as that merely shows you trolling. To help one could rather give helpful insight into wring skills as spell correction will be ignored due to my at a later stage editing and eventually finding my own typos.

So from a former author by hobby from the most toxic platform in existence Wattpad I feel much safer here in a sense as Wattpad has become much like twitter honestly. Might as well rename it and its purpose too. It used to be such a lovely app around 2015 yet since moderation teams I heard care not for readers safety and mental health per my personal conversations and experience all they care about is money. So I write here on said platforms, however if you wish to contact me directly you will need a lot of trust as my trust has been crushed numerous times Irl and online. So I will just list platforms I Write or chat but not account names for safety:

My writing platforms that I'm most active:

A03

Quotev

Wattpad[On extremely rare occasions unless to help out someone i know to spread awareness, otherwise only if i feel like it. Warning though its infested with trolls, hackers and tracking software i noted via an app…127 trackers to be precise maybe more. I have very good firewalls for protection but you were warned. Age is 13+ to create account but true age is 17+ i read up.] So you have been warned as those are only said few dangers in Wattpad and not on my platforms I write i noted so far.

Its why i encourage not to put exact locations on bio as it makes it very easy for weirdoes to find you no matter where in the world you are.

So please do stay safe and well away from Wattpad and discord if you can help it.

Chat platforms:

Discord[Well less nowadays due to my withdrawing from society and the bots-]

Signal[Much safer to chat and rp, exclusively for only said few i trust with my life.]

Wire[Exactly like a mashup of Discord and Signal only one can choose either phone number or email]

Snapchat[rarely unless really needed for requests etc.]

So due to reasons below im rarely on Wattpad. Peeps are known to steal books there too as i had legit experience spreading awareness about Tumblr author been victim too. Im unaware if it was ever sorted.

Stay safe my Felines~ Nya~

#disclaimer #mature #teenage mutant ninja turtles #DNI #18+#18+ content #18+ roleplay #smut #minors dni #fxf #rules

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nuvamata · 2 months

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made a character for a shadowrun campaign that will be starting next saturday. i'm excited. he's a lupine shapeshifter named vark. more about him under the cut bc it's fun to talk about.

a really interesting thing about how shapeshifters work in shadowrun is they are primarily animals that can turn into humans. like a reverse animorph. fun to play with when deciding his backstory, personality, and, in this case, his outfit.

being a wolf taking on the persona of a man, i figured he would probably not enjoy clothes that weren't loose-fitting. i had a version with fully fastened boots, but then decided he'd find that a bit too constricting. also, i don't think he would know how to tie laces. the jacket is nice, and i knew i wanted him to have a fur collar, but i'm pretty sure he garbage picked that.

a bit of his backstory:

so, shapeshifters are kind of an underclass of society. there are only about 200,000 worldwide across all species, and they don't really fit into broader metahuman society. because of this they are often exploited, either by being hunted for bounty or captured by corporations for experimentation.

in vark's case, he was abducted from the wilderness of upstate new york as a pup, to be sold on the black market. he was rescued by a loosely-established gang of displaced shifters residing in new york city. they work to care for each other as best they can and disrupt trafficking operations like vark's. he had no pack to return to, so was taken in and raised with this new, discordant pack.

he's since been surviving as best he can, bringing in money by taking part in underground fighting rings and, more recently, shadowrunning proper.

before going into his personality, a select few of his various positive and negative qualities, skills, and attributes added during character creation that will help to inform his personality:

uneducated: this is an inherent debuff for almost all shapeshifter characters. he has no formal education, so is not particularly adept at reading, math, or other technical skills.

distinctive style: a debuff which makes people more likely to remember this weird fella. vark didn't begin living in metahuman society until partway through his life, and so wasn't raised speaking english. and even then, much of the english he was exposed to came from people who weren't native speakers themselves. so his speech is slightly stilted, avoiding contractions, sometimes skipping minor words or forgetting words that he doesn't use very often. sample sentence: "the man left on... what is word? fast chair?" (motorcycle)

leadership and small-unit tactics: vark is a wolf. he is at his core adept at working as, and leading, a pack.

intimidation: even as a human, he is intended to be a formidable presence. to make use of intimidation, he's specc'd in charisma.

commanding voice: used in conjunction with either intimidation or leadership to make either foes or allies do as he says.

good-looking and knows it: ok so. no one else in the group specc'd themselves out for charisma. vark's is pretty high and has a lot of charisma-based skills, which basically makes this strange-talking wolf-man the de-facto face of the group. this buff not only makes him do better at social tests, but combined with the uneducated debuff, basically makes him a himbo. plus, his face is partially modeled off of hugh jackman, so people would think he's hot.

ok, onto his personality:

first, vark is not actually stupid. he has a pretty high intuition attribute, and a few buffs to his perception that i didn't go into. he's pretty smart! in his own way. but he has some limitations to the way he understands people and the way they do things.

for example, vark speaks very directly, and says whatever he is thinking or feeling with no filter. he doesn't really understand a need to couch his language in the way that humans would. if someone suggests an idea he doesn't like, he might say something like "that idea is bad, we should not do it." conversely, he doesn't really "get" lying. he knows what it is, and that it's a thing people do, and can sometimes even tell when someone is doing it, but he doesn't really know why they do it, or how to effectively do it himself. if you told him "you need to lie to the security guard or we'll get in trouble" he'd probably say something like "it is snowing outside" when it's the middle of summer.

he also doesn't understand things like "revenge" or the concept of a social score being kept. if someone hurt you somehow, but they've since left and aren't an immediate threat, why would you look for them? they're clearly dangerous, you'd only be exposing yourself to further harm. seems stupid. if you do him a favor, why would he owe you one in return?

with this in mind it might be easy to think of vark as being cold, or even unpleasant. but he has a pretty high charisma stat, and a lot of skills in it, so it's more like his directness and simpleness ends up getting interpreted as earnestness, and is kind of charming. if you've ever seen the movie "blast from the past," brendan fraser's character is basically how i see vark. if you haven't, it's a great movie.

vark tries to not escalate situations to violence. he's more pragmatic than that. if you pick a fight with someone, you're more likely to get hurt, aren't you? it's obviously better to not get hurt, are you stupid? but if a situation does turn violent, he's gonna try and end it as soon as possible, and if that means killing them, better them than him. initially during character creation i thought he would only use unarmed combat, since you don't usually see animals wielding weapons. but then i thought, if a wolf could kill a deer with a gun, he definitely would. a gun is usually the most effective way to kill someone, no reason not to keep one handy. so i gave him a heavy revolver to carry around.

what else? he has the "phobia" debuff for a mild fear of bears, since he got his ass absolutely kicked by an ursine shifter in an underground fight.

his contacts are other shifters he grew up with on the streets. they include calla, a canine afghan wolfhound who he gets along very well with (both dogs), and sivon, a pantherine shifter who he is on rough terms with (big cats don't operate as packs!)

that's enough i guess. had a lot of fun making vark. excited to see what kind of hijinks he gets involved in.

#shadowrun #ttrpg #cyberpunk #shapeshifter #oc #werewolf

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arckyy · 2 years

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Day 15

You went home after your surgery. Seems like everything was going well and i was happy that you're finally healing from your injuries. I didnt get to visit you at the hospital and gave you a flower that me and my sister shared money to buy. But it was okay. As long as you are okay, Im okay. But your parents asked you to a attend a wedding though. That didnt really make any sense to me because the doctor's instructions was for you to rest at home. The same wedding that i was suppose to go with you. But because things happened, I wasnt able to though. This whole time i've been contacting you through discord because i didnt have a phone. To be honest, I was okay with it. As long as i can rush home everyday and talk to you, I was okay with it. But the past few days i didnt sleep well though. Just thinking of you. Just thinking about us. I was gonna commit suicide because i couldnt handle the pain. The pain that i put you through. I couldnt live to see you being this way. But you told me dont go because you still needed me. But we still talked about that girl after. It just seems like whatever i say just didnt matter, I broke you. Im the one responsible for fixing you back just like what you said about my phone. It doesnt matter how long it took. I was going to be patient. I loved you like no other. I felt like all of this was karma. If i didnt text her, Me and you wouldnt be in this situation. You deleted your own spotify playlist. I noticed some of the songs that you listened to and added it to the playlist. I've missed out quite a few so im sorry. We were talking normally at this point though. Not as much as before. But it was still something and i really treasure those moments. The efforts you put in even though you went back to the hospital, It just showed me that you care. I really wanted to visit you at the hospital but you didnt want me to see you in that condition. It was okay though. Even if you lose your arms and legs, I'd still be happy pushing you around in a wheelchair. Showing you love infront of lots of people. To me, It is nothing to be ashamed of. But you were going to go for surgery soon after. Again, The thought of losing you is something i couldnt live with. I was overthinking. My mind was playing with me again. But you woke up and texted me. I told you how i was feeling and you told me to not say any of those things because ur in your deathbed and im not. Any moments that i get to spend with you, I treasure it. I love you and that love just keeps growing every single day even when ur not talking to me. It hurts but it just keeps growing. I promised you that i wasnt gonna leave no matter what. You promised the same. You were more than what i could ever ask for baby. There's this one time where you didnt reply for almost a day and i started panicking. I thought you were dead. Silly me hahahah. But you came back and comforted me. You explained to me what happened. But the conversations were getting dry though at this point. I couldnt help but wonder. I got scared of you drifting away from me. I had to tell you about what i was feeling but you weren't too happy with it because i was overthinking. I've never thought of replacing you though. I told myself, If you leave, Im chasing you over and over again. You might be wondering why. That's how much i love you. It didnt matter to me one bit. What i felt, I deserve it. You deserve all the good things that this life has got to offer you.

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bakubabes-tatakae · 4 years

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Muted Infatuation || Corpse x Reader

Warnings: fluff, fluff, and more fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Find part two here if you’re ready for a continuation. 👏

As you watched the small characters running around your screen you couldn’t help but smile. There were already ten of you in the lobby, but that’s when you heard one of them speak up. “I think I’m done for the night. I really need to get something to eat and go to bed at a decent time.”

You laughed a little and readjusted your mic in front of your mouth. “Oh come on, don’t be a party pooper. It’s only 10 pm. We won't have a full lobby that way!”

You heard the familiar voice of Jack ring out above the rest. “I think I might have a tenth player, just give me a minute to get in touch with them.”

Everyone stayed silent for a moment, waiting to hear exactly who Jack was talking about, but that’s when you heard the familiar sound of a discord notification. When you looked down at your phone and saw that it was a private message the butterflies in your stomach intensified. You should have known that this was who Jack would get. A majority of the lobby hadn’t known him yet, but it was now time for them to meet one of the best players you knew.

Corpse 10:06pm

Are you playing Among Us with Jack and his lobby?

You stared at the message for a long time before you finally answered. You had felt the familiar knot that filled your throat whenever you knew you were talking to him growing. The two of you had been speaking outside of the streams, but no one else in the chat had known that. The feelings you got just from him speaking your name made you melt where you sat.

Y/n 10:06pm

Yea. I am. Why? What’s up?

You were almost impatient as you watched the bottom of your screen pop up with Corpse is typing…

Corpse 10:07pm

Cool, I’m about to join in. He just hit me up. I look forward to killing you… or teaming up if the chance comes.

You hadn’t even had time to speak again when you heard Jack announcing him in. “There’s very few of you in the lobby that knows him, I think there’s only two or three of us that do. But here’s our tenth. Corpse, everybody… everybody, Corpse.”

A round of greetings spread through the Discord chat as you patiently waited for the people who hadn’t known him to be surprised. And when they were all quiet and the booming sound of his deep voice rang through the speakers it was exactly what you expected. “Hello.”

Shocked sounds came from everyone and laughter erupted from Jack, a couple of others, and yourself. Corpse wasted no time in speaking to you. “Y/n… it’s good to hear you again.”

Everyone around stopped and waited for your reply. Your thoughts turned to mush as you were singled out. Of course, he would choose now… in a group of friends… to show that you had been more friendly than you had intended to be when you first met. After your first stream with him he had added you to his friend’s list and the next morning he had reached out to you. The rest was history.

You cleared your throat, trying your hardest not to sound as nervous as you were. The butterflies in your stomach once again threaten to make you walk to your bathroom. “Hey, Corpsie.”

His angelic laugh flustered you, you knew that he was laughing because he knew just what he was doing to you. “Don’t worry, if things get too rough I got your back, Corpse will protect you.” That laugh sent shivers down your spine as you melted in your seat. As his character color turned to black and the suit and horns came out you knew it was time to party.

Round after round you admired this man's ability to keep his tone as straight as you had ever heard someone when under pressure. His ability to make his way out of nearly every situation, even when all the suspicion was on him. But as the game finally ended and everyone slowly left the chat only Jack, Corpse, and yourself remained. You had nearly forgotten to exit the discord chat when you hear your name brought up. “Jack… can I tell you something? It’s about y/n.”

Jack sounded a little surprised but continued. “Yea. Of course, you can.”

Corpse cleared his throat and you heard him lean back in his chair, pulling at his headphones a little. “So we’ve been talking a lot outside of the streams if you didn’t already know that.” His nervous laughter filled the silence that was there. “To the point where I send her a good morning text every day.”

Jack sounded surprised, but there was happiness to his voice. “You guys exchanged numbers?”

“Yea. We did that the first night. We’ve been talking on the phone a lot. She’s one of the very few people who know what I actually look like.”

You had to cover your mouth as you listened so that you didn’t let any happy sounds out. Your finger hit the mute button as you let out a squeal. You had a feeling that you knew where this conversation was going.

Jack had looked down at his discord and had noticed your bubble still being in the chat, but as he tried to catch his attention he was ignored. “Corpse… uh... “

Corpse continued to talk over to him. “I really like her man. I think that I might ask her to dinner sometime soon.” Jack cleared his throat and Corpse continued. “She makes me so happy and I’ve never actually met her man. Videos and pictures probably don’t even do her justice.”

Finally, he stopped talking and Jack sighed and laughed. “You do sound like you like her Corpse. Maybe you should ask her out. I think it would be good for both of you.” You paid more attention as he spoke to you in a sense. “I know that she could use a night out with a nice guy.”

Corpse chuckled nervously again. “Are you sure that she’d say yes?”

Jack’s laughter grew louder as he replied. “Why don’t you just answer him Y/n?” Corpse’s laughter stopped as he looked down at his phone to see your bubble in the chat still.

You slowly cleared your throat and unmuted yourself. “I’m sorry. I should have told you that I was still in here, but I wanted to hear what you had to say.”

Jack hated that he had to interrupt, but he replied quickly and saw his way out. “I tried to tell you before you even started talking, but you didn’t hear me. Have fun, you crazy kids.”

Corpse was nervous, it was all over his voice. “Uhhh, so, dinner sometime?”

You smiled and tried to keep your voice from sounding to giddy. “I’d love that. But we don’t have to go anywhere. Takeout at my place?”

The deep, raspy voice that filled the space around you told you exactly what you wanted to hear. “I’ll be over with dinner tomorrow night. I can’t wait.”

You giggled to yourself and hung up the chat, holding the phone to your chest, a happy noise coming from you that you hadn’t heard in a while. Little did you know, on the other end he leaned back in his chair with a smile spread from ear to ear, laughing happily in the office space that he sat in.

Permanent Taglist @monic00l @dailytrashypanda @rowley-with-ackerman

©bakubabes-hatake’s original content, please do not repost/modify without my permission

#corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse #corpse husband #corpse husband imagines #corpse imagines #corpse husband fanfic #corpse fanfic #corpse husband fanfiction #corpse fanfiction #corpse_husband #youtuber x reader #youtubers

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moonxhunt · 3 years

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Caught their eye

Dream Team x female reader smut

// degrading, praise, discord sex, dom sub vibes

•

It was late on a Friday night with no streams, just a discord call of planning future events. Your leg rested in Nick's lap, his hand on your inner thigh, thumb stroking into the soft flesh. The vibrations of his occasional laugh shook through his body and against yours, filling your soul with nothing but warmth.

The four of you had been friends for a couple months now, and the three of them for longer. You'd won Nick's love or host a while back and even though he'd been quiet for most of it, he'd really taken a liking to you.

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea." You listened to him talk to his friends. His fingers curved into your thigh, making you gasp and tense up. His eyes met yours, brown orbs staring at you with a confident smirk.

"What was that?" You heard Clay in the background.

"Nothing, I just saw something on my Twitter." The coverup slipped from your lips quickly, eyes sternly looking back at the smug man. Leaning forwards you hissed, "what are you doing?"

The fingers on your thigh burrowed deeper into your bare skin and Nick got close enough for his hot breath to tickle your neck, words into your ear. "Not a single sound." The tone of his voice was rough yet playful, sadistic and dominant. It burst through your body with a deep bundle of nerves in the very pits of your stomach.

After receiving your soft and intimidated nod, he sat back in his chair and continued the conversation. When every ended, fingers creeped up your skin, until he'd managed to sneak into your underwear. A long finger slowly dragged through your slick folds, another gasp almost leaving your lips before it was contained by your teeth. Nick eyed you in warning, the pad of his thumb now circling your clit. The sensitive bundle of nerves shot out an explosion of tingles inside your body, and you had to bite down on your thumb to contain the whine that built up in your throat. Nick watched you, adding pressure just to watch how sensitive you were for him.

You were able to contain yourself for a few more minutes until the whine left your lips. His finger had pushed inside of you, aching walls clenching against him for any sort of release.

"Really Nick, on call?" Clay's teasing words were heard through the headset, the thought of him listening to you being enough to let out another whine. "Seems like she enjoys it though, doesn't she?"

You fixed your posture, about to defend yourself, when another finger slipped inside of you and curved in that peculiar way that broke you within seconds. A combination of a gasp and a groan escaped from your throat, Nick's smirk evident through the corner of your eye.

"She's quite a slut." He spoke, eyes burning into yours as his fingers slowly pumped inside of you- agonizingly slow. Your skin suddenly burned with some type of mix of arousal and humiliation.

It was surreal, really. Clinging on to the man you loved while he brutally pleasures you, his friends listening in the background. It was humiliating, yet.. yet, it overwhelmed you with a new lusting for attention. You wanted their eyes, their hands, their touch- all of them.

"P-please.." the whimper left your lips, your face burrowing into his shoulders.

"Please what? Speak up, slut." It was George's turn to speak, the tone of his voice dominant and rather surprising to all of you. He'd never been so assertive before.

"N-Need you.." you whined into your boyfriend's hoodie. His fingers curved inside of you, hitting the spot that made you cry out in pleasure.

Nick slipped his fingers out of you, slickly coated with your juices that spread around your needy and aching hole. He leant forward and unplugged his headset, turning on the camera in the process. Hands shuffled and moved to grip your thighs and put you in his lap, and you were met by not only your flushed reflection but also two hungry pair of eyes that stared back at you.

"All red and blushing." Clay teased, his softly degrading words flying straight to your core.

"This is okay with you, right?" Nick's lips brushed against your ears with the whispering question for your consent, earning a small whimper of confirmation.

His rough fingers now gentle as he pulled your shirt over your head, cold air coming in contact with warm flesh of your chest- breasts jiggling ever so slightly at the movement. You could see their hungry eyes take you in, a smirk on Clay's lips while a straight and tense expression lingered on George's features. The sight, the feeling, the knowing that you were about to get ruined in front of these men- it made your breath hitch.

You could feel Nick's hard cock through his sweatpants, not being able to help yourself as you rocked your hips against him. A small groan left his lips, hands flying down to roughly grab on to your sides.

"Careful." He hissed against your ear. A smirk played on your lips, knowing that even despite the control they had on you- you had the power to make the man beneath you crumble. You were able to grind against him one more time before his fingers plunged inside of you with a punishingly rough and fast pace. Loud and lewd noises left your lips, your body falling back into his.

"This what you wanted?" Nick's head came to rest against yours, lips tickling the top of your ear. "To be fucked like this in front of an audience?"

"Such a little whore, taking it so well." Clay praised you through the call, and you could see his movements through the camera. He was palming himself, jaw tightened and eyes on you- the sight enough to push your mind into the thought of having the two of them inside of you at once. "Putting on a show for the two of us, you're nothing but a horny slut aren't you?"

The fingers that moved inside of you picked up a brutal speed. You could hear the lewd noises that escaped your wet cunt, mixing in the air with your high pitched and uncontrolled moans. Your body shook and moved with the ruthless pounding as the tension built up. Squeezing around him, you felt yourself come undone on his slender fingers.

"Just like that baby." Nick practically groaned against your hair, the lewd sight before him all too overwhelming. A chuckle was heard in the background and you could just about lift your closing eyes to look at Clay through your eyelashes. His fingers were tightly wrapped around his large and flushed cock, slowly pumping up and down. There was something so intimately explosive about knowing that you were the cause of his lust. That you, your body and your moans, had caused his horny state.

The orgasm came quick and hard. Nick slowed his fingers while leaving small and light kisses behind your ear, before slipping them out of you and up towards your mouth. You didn't even attempt to fight the urge to have his fingers in your mouth, instantly wrapping your lips around them and tasting yourself.

"Fuck.." Nick whispered, his other fingers moving to grip your jaw.

When you shifted to look at yourself through the monitor, you were met by the sight of his large hand almost covering the bottom of your face. It was such a lewd sight, your head moving to bob as you sucked his fingers desperately.

The shifting beneath you didn't last long until he eagerly pushed himself inside of your wet cunt, a hissing noise leaving his lips.

"So fucking tight."

You moaned against his fingers that pushed further into your mouth, all the way until you gagged on the tips.

Breaking the silence, it was now George's turn to let out a loud moan. His eyes were stuck on your body, hand fast as he jerked himself off with small grunts leaving his lips. The sight made whine, all of them letting out a soft chuckle at your desperate state.

"You like that, huh?" Clay taunted as your eyes met his. "The thought of us ruining you together, you'd want that wouldn't you." You responded with another wine, tightening around the thick cock inside of you. Nick let out a hiss, just about to move his hips to thrust into you when Clay interrupted.

"Hold her there for a while, will ya?" The blonde man cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "Clench around him as tight as you can, show us how much of a slut you are."

The aching muscles of your insides tightly wrapped around the large cock inside of you, a series of whines leaving your lips- mixing with the groans of the man behind you. This was enough to send Nick into a feral mode, his hips moving at a brutal speed as he began thrusting into you. Skin slapped against skin, wet noises echoing through the air.

"You might be a whore, but you're my whore." Nick growled into your ear. He pulled his hand away from your face to, with his other, grab underneath your legs and prop you up so he could fuck as hard as possibly into you.

It was so overwhelming to have him ruin you at such a pace and manner. His large cock stretched out your sensitive and swollen insides, filling you up to the very brim. His skin slapped into yours until it stung, and the air was filled with moans and his heavy breathing.

Suddenly Nick's thrusts slowed down, leaving you as a whining mess craving for more- gently clawing at his thighs.

"Show them how much of a whore you are for me, baby." His hands ran down to gently rest on your waist, the support behind you suddenly removed as he sat back in his chair.

Nodding softly, you propped yourself up against his desk, rolling your hips as you began riding him. The tip of his cock hit in sensitive spots that gave you a mix of pain and pleasure- heavenly feeling overcoming you. Your fingers curved around the edge of the black wooden desk, eyes locking with George's. He looked flustered and caught, shy almost. Even with the cocky expression of his combined with his lusting for dominance, he was shy.

The sight of the British man resting back in his chair, cheeks flushed dark and brown hair messily spread on top of his head, it gave you a whole new level of confidence. You let your lips hang open in a sultry expression as you put on a show for him. Hips moved skillfully, eyelids hanging low and back arching- all for him. All to see how his breath hitched and his darkened eyes burnt into you.

Nick huffed behind you, feeling possessive and jealous of the show you put on for his friend. He couldn't blame him for wanting what he had, for wanting how perfectly you fit around him as nothing but his little cocksleeve. He tightened his hands on your hips and began pounding into you again, catching you off guard and making you stumble forwards into the desk. It didn't take long for your second orgasm to come, creaming around his pulsating cock that harshly hit up into your cervix- surely going to bruise it.

His thrusts were getting sloppier but rougher, the fairly organized movement becoming desperate and hungry. He was close. You tried to beg to have him release inside of you, to fill you up and breed you, but your words were muffled into a whine.

"What's that, baby?" His tone was a bit softer this time as he whispered into your ear, gentle contrast against the thrusts that were nothing of such.

"C-cum inside of me.." you cried out quietly, holding on to anything and everything your hands could grab. It was enough to send him over the bridge.

"So good for me." He moaned before coming undone inside of you, warm white liquid filling you up to the brim. Nick stayed inside of you while he placed soft kisses on your neck. "Such a good girl."

"Mhm." You hummed, falling back into his arms that gently embraced you. You were tired, but you hadn't quite noticed just how tired until you realized you hadn't even noticed or seen him turn the computer off and reach over to grab a towel.

"You okay?" The whisper tickled your neck. Nick was cleaning you up, the hands that had been so rough just a moment ago now soft and careful. "Too rough?"

"No, just perfect."

He placed a soft kiss on your temple, throwing the towel towards the bin before pulling you close into his arms.

#mcyt smut #sapnap smut #georgenotfound smut #dreamwastaken smut #dreamteam smut #dreamteam x reader #sapnap x reader

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childishfluff · 3 years

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a compilation of unspoken agreements + common tropes in mcyt agere fics

I think we should talk about the unspoken agreements/common tropes in agere fics that no one talks about, specifically in mcyt agere fics. These were put together by me and my discord friends, feel free to reblog and add on/comment on these. This is also not a critism of agere fics! I use a lot of these!

I just thought the common trends among the mcyt agere fics were interesting and thought I’d point some of them out.

First of all, there’s the unlimited amount of little gear age regressors/age dreamers just have for plot convince and their caregivers aren’t constantly broke somehow. The elaborate playrooms, the bottomless toy boxes, the one million decorative pacis? They’re all free, they’re just there.

Also everyone knows how to make angel milk naturally, and no one ever throws away their kid stuff. Unprepared cgs definitely just have sippy cups and childhood stuffied animals just because and when someone happens to regress they’re prepared, somehow.

Oh and in mcyt agere fics specifically, Wilbur always knows a bunch of lullabies? no explanation he simply does. music interest = know every kid song ever to comfort the babies.

The ‘i had a friend in high school/college who regressed’ trope is a common way of explaining why a cg/friend knows about agere things, too. again with the ‘conveniently having kids things for fluff reasons’, cgs always have kids books or fluffy blankets with the excuse of baby sitting younger family members or whatever.

Regression always lines up with meet ups in rpf fics so that they can cuddle and domestic family fluff can ensue. Speaking of physical affection, caregivers are usually incredibly strong just so they can carry one/multiple teenagers/grown adults while they’re little.

If the little and cg aren’t already in the same place, they’re somehow able to get to each other really quickly. And if the fic *is* internet based, Discord calls/chats are the main form of communication. There might be a Discord sever for all the mcyts who are also littles/cgs used to quickly introduce to the readers who else in this universe is aware of agere-related things

When there’s a confession scene, the person the little is talking to may or may not reveal that half the people they know are either littles/cgs and they might get added to the previously mentioned Discord server. Also! There might be an agere minecraft sever just because?

If someone walks in on someone while regressed the ‘you weren’t supposed to know!’ ‘know what?’ ‘this! *motions to kid things*’ ‘*knows what’s happening for some reason/quickly picks up on it* it’s okay to be small’ conversation always takes place.

Another version of the confession scene could be a situation where the person they’re telling doesn’t already know, they usually come back a day later talking about what they learned on their own, talking about how they were curious and ‘googled a whole lot’.

Everyone is always awake to reply/answer to distressed littles at 3 am, and ‘reward from cg’ packages arrive the very next day.

If littles go out with their cgs, no fan ever recognizes them or questions their behavior despite them never attempting to disguise themselves because uh...writers don’t wanna deal with it, I guess.

Phil and Wilbur usually fill the role of ‘teasing family-figure’ who’s always great at making littles slip. Tommy is either ‘calm cuddly baby aww he’s so soft when he’s small’ or ‘chaos and only chaos’ toddler-younger kid when he’s the regressor in fics, not much of an in between.

Ranboo is usually more well behaved and when he does act out, he gets anxious. Tubbo is either super little/just a bit younger then the other regressors or the friend who doesn’t regress but isn’t the primary caregiver either. Techno can go from the friend who ‘doesn’t like kids’ to the big-brotherly perfect cg, or be an older toddler-aged little, depends on who’s with him and what’s needed for the fic.

There’s a lot more that we’re missing, but these were just some ones me and the server noticed! It’s actually really interesting to think about how we either silently agreed on these things or a few people did them and then so did everyone else, and about the actual reasons we chose these tropes/common things to stick with.

Most of them are plot convience or based off our perseptions of the streamers and content creators, but it’s still cool, y’know? feel free to reblog/reply with more examples or comments on this little list! thanks for reading! <3

#mcyt agere #tommyinnit agere #ranboo agere #wilbur soot agere #tubbo agere #philza agere #technoblade agere #mcyt #agere fanfiction #cg!phil #cg!wilbur #writing tropes #agere writing #rambling

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Flying High, Falling Fast

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; fingering, oral, fucking, subtle creep factor, deceptive charm, the usual fare you know

This is dark!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You meet the new Captain America at an event and impress him with your homemade project, but his interest is more than friendly.

Note: We all need some dark!Sam, right? This is a pretty long one shot, just over 7k words but it was super fun to write a character I don’t get to a lot. But I hope you love him as much as me!

Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You’d never been to a meet and greet before but it seemed like the perfect opportunity to meet up with Reese. The two of you met a year and a half ago on a Discord server for PC builds and eventually waded through the awkward blank cursors to real conversations. Little updates on new additions to your machines, memes about coding, and the occasional gaming session. He became a stalwart in your mostly solitary existence between work and your empty private life.

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Reese but you felt safer meeting a stranger from the internet in a public setting. Plus, it was his suggestion. His roommate fell through on attending the event with him and you eagerly accepted the unclaimed ticket. Of course, Reese insisted it was his treat but you made him promise to let you pay for lunch.

Even more exciting, you were going to meet the new Captain America. THE CAPTAIN AMERICA. You wanted to squee but had to play it cool as you waited with Reese in the winding queue.

As exclusive as the meet and greet was, it was stiflingly crowded, even more strenuous as you and Reese tried to adjust your rapport to a face-to-face environment. You mostly ended up chuckling and struggling for some cogent thought.

“What’s in the bag?” Reese asked, finally cracking through the stunted small talk.

“Oh, oh my god, I almost forgot,” you carefully lifted the bag and opened the top to let him peek inside, “I made this last year during lockdown. It’s silly but it was fun.”

He poked his finger around the opening of your drawstring knapsack and his brows rose in surprise. The drone had taken you most of your spare time but you hadn’t yet had a chance to do more than hover it around your bedroom. It was an exact replica, or exact as you could get, of the former Falcon’s Redwing.

“Holy shit! You never mentioned it,” he said.

“Oh, well, I guess… I never thought to. I just spent about an hour or so whenever I could, getting it together. Most of the time was spent on programming,” you closed your bag and let hit hang from your elbow, “and that’s another checkbox on the nerd list.”

“Please, look who you're talking to,” he joked with a snort.

You smiled at him sheepishly and looked ahead of the bodies in front of you as the line shifted forward. He wasn’t exactly disappointing, if anything, he was exactly what you expected. Skinny with black-framed glasses and a bright tee with the Captain’s shield emblazoned across his chest. He wasn’t bad-looking and thankfully not an incel.

“So, uh, you gonna give it to him or something?” Reese asked.

“What-- uh, no, I was hoping he’d sign it actually,” you chewed your lip anxiously, “if I don’t spaz out and just walk away.”

“Right,” he scoffed, “the last time I went to one of these I almost passed out.”

“Oh? Who was it?” you wondered aloud.

“Tony Stark. But I was still in high school,” he explained, “everything else sells out before I get to it. These I got by luck. If David hadn’t swiped them, we’d be standing outside wishing we were in here.”

“I can’t believe he passed on the ticket,” you uttered.

“I’m happy he did,” Reese said, “it made it easier to convince you to meet.”

“Well… we didn’t have to--”

“I’m teasing. Sorry. I’m not very… experienced at this,” he fidgeted.

“It’s fine,” you shrugged as you moved with the line, “I’m just nervous about meeting Captain America, you know? You’re not as intimidating… but I like that.”

“Uh, thanks,” he laughed as you got closer to the table and fidgeted with the straps of your bag. You were almost there.

You stepped up when the people ahead of you cleared away and you couldn’t help but stare at Bucky Barnes’ metal hand as he signed Reese’s special edition Blip magazine. He cleared his throat and you looked the Winter Soldier in the face.

“Oh, sorry,” you slid the poster you got from the shop on the way in onto the table and he unrolled it and signed. You tried really hard not to focus on his hand, you were so curious as to how it all worked. “Thank you.”

He smiled through tight lips and said, “your welcome” before you sidled down to Sam Wilson as you rolled up your poster.

“Don’t worry about him,” Sam said, “he hates these things. I can’t take him anywhere.”

His laughter received a sharp look from the super soldier. Sam took Reese’s magazine and asked his name. You were too lost in thought to answer when he asked for yours. You coughed and sputtered as you tried to remember and Reese answered for you, adding that you were nervous.

“I, uh, oh,” you lifted your bag, “I was hoping, maybe, you might sign this instead,” you handed the poster to Reese and reached into your knapsack, “if you don’t mind?”

You carefully placed the drone on the table and his brows shot up in surprise. He lifted it just as you let it go and admired it as he leaned back, “you make this?”

“Yeah,” you answered shyly, “doesn’t have all the cool features like yours but it flies.”

“That’s awesome,” he put it back down and uncapped his marker, “where do you want me to sign?”

“Just on the top is fine,” you pointed, “thank you so much.”

“My pleasure,” he put his signature after spelling out your name and he grabbed the drone again, “hey, Buck, look at this? I don’t see any fancy arms that need signing.”

“Shut up,” Bucky grumbled and eyed the drone, “pretty cool, though.”

“Thanks, uh, well, we should get out of the way,” you said.

He handed you the drone and smiled. You began to shuffle away and he called you back to the table, “you code? Do a lot of programming?”

“Mostly just corporate sites,” you answered.

“Here,” he reached into his pocket, “send me a text. I think I know some people who’d like to meet you.”

“What?” you took the card rigidly.

“Sure, we’re always looking for techs,” he said, “and if we can’t find a spot for you, maybe you can see the real Redwing. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Wow, thank you, you… don’t have to do… that,” you stuttered.

“I’d be stupid not to,” he waved off your protests, “you go have fun, you two.”

You backed away and turned to walk away with Reese as you shoved your drone back in your bag with the card, numb with disbelief.

“Wow, I can’t believe…” you trailed off as you mind wandered.

“Me either,” Reese said oddly, “that’s… wild.”

You looked at him and smiled. He didn’t look mad, only serious. You tightened the neck of the knapsack and slung it over your shoulders.

“So what are we doing for lunch?” you asked.

🌠

In the two weeks since you attended the meet and greet, you and Reese kept up mostly online, many arrangements interrupted by your real life responsibilities. It wasn’t until you offered for him to come with you to the SWORD labs that he had any free time for you. After a stressful text exchange with Captain America, you were too anxious to go alone and he was more than welcoming when you asked to bring a friend.

You stood on the subway as Reese sat and played his Switch. He was jittery as you kept your own nerves hidden just beneath the surface. You found it easier to stay standing as you felt as if you might combust if you sat.

“This is so awesome,” he said as he zipped his Switch up in its case, “thanks for inviting me.”

“I figured I owed you since you got the tickets for the meet and greet,” you said, “and it’s been a while.”

“Sorry about that, work’s been nuts,” he stood as you approached your stop and held onto the pole above your hand, “I kinda skipped out on half a day for this.”

“No,” you frowned, “you didn’t have to--”

“And miss a chance to see the real Redwing? Come on,” he scoffed.

“Oh,” you hung your head, “yeah, I guess that’s worth it.”

“I didn’t mean-- I’m happy to see you too, it’s just kinda a big deal,” he said as you approached the door with the few other passengers readying to hop off.

“No, I get it,” you hooked your thumbs under the straps of your knapsack as the doors slid open and you stepped out onto the platform, “I just… I couldn’t go alone. It’s so… scary.”

“Scary? Jeez, Captain America invited you to a job interview!”

“No, that’s not--”

“Uh, yeah, that’s exactly what it is but I promise, I won’t get in the way,” he said as you head for the concrete stairs, “maybe if he needs an extra coder I might piggy back.”

“Uh huh,” you came up onto the New York sidewalk and came into view of the immense SWORD building, “well, I don’t think it’s all that.”

“So why’d you bring this?” he tapped your bag as you neared the large glass doors and men in suits with coiled wires at their ears squared their shoulders.

“He asked me to,” you said as you were approached by one of the big security guards.

“This isn’t public entry,” he said sternly, “no tours.”

“I have an appointment or… I’m expected,” you pulled out your phone and pulled up the electronic pass Sam sent you, “see?”

“Hmm,” he eyed it and took your phone without asking. Another guard came and scanned it with his phone, “checks out but we’re gonna called down Mr. Wilson and get confirmation.”

“Oh, okay,” you fidgeted as he made no move to return your phone. Reese seemed to shrink as the two men spoke into their headset and nodded at each other.

“Hey,” the glass door burst open as Sam appeared and strode towards you, “hey, sorry, these guys are such buzzkills,” he approached and patted one of the men on the shoulder, “they’re with me.” He assured and waved you after him.

“Um, my phone,” you said to the taller man with the buzzed head. He tilted his head wryly and held out your cell between two fingers. You took it and followed Sam to the doors.

“Anyway, we were just going over some basic maintenance today and I thought you might like to observe. See everything that goes into keeping me and my toys in the air,” he smiled as he held the door and nodded at Reese, “nice to see you again, man.”

“You too, Cap...tain,” Reese answered dumbly.

“Sam is fine,” he chuckled back and tailed the two of you across the lobby as he pointed you towards the elevators. He made Reese look even more like a stick bug. “You bring it?”

“Yeah, it’s in my bag,” you stopped yourself from popping your knuckles out of nervousness, “thank you so much for this. I usually work in cubicles so… uh, yeah… I don’t know what I mean.”

“Hey, don’t be nervous, you built that thing all by yourself? I’m sure you’ll fit right in,” he said.

You got off the elevator and had to hold in a gasp at the shining laboratories as the hi-tech equipment gleamed through the glass walls. Sam led you down the curved staircase onto the lab floors as techs and assistants in both lab coats and starched suits milled around the tables along the edge of the room.

“Hey, Greta,” he called out as he showed you to a metal table, “get a look at this.” A woman with twisted red hair approached as Sam tapped his fingers on the table, “show her,” he urged you.

You swung your bag around and took out the little red and silver drone. You placed it in the middle of the table and the woman, Greta, tilted her head curiously.

“You said you can make this thing fly, right?” Sam asked as Reese watched from the other side of the table.

“Um, yep,” you unlocked your phone and brought up the beta app you designed, “just…”

The drone rose slowly and steadied before you as it hovered over the metal. Greta lifted a dark brow and ran a nail along her chin thoughtfully, “cute.”

“Ah, come on, tell me that isn’t awesome? She did it all by herself,” Sam boasted, “so, what do you think? She’d be a great tech, huh?”

“Tech? I…” you blinked and giggled, that was absurd.

“Does she have a resume? A list of her credentials, at least,” Greta rebuffed.

“Greta,” Sam warned playfully, “I’m her credentials. I’m giving her a reference right now. Hire her.”

“What?” you mumbled under your breath and you saw Reese’s eye cling to Sam darkly, almost enviously.

“You know, if I hadn’t let that kid go for hi-jacking the alpha, I’d tell you to go back to breaking your toys,” she warned, “but I trust you and… I cannot say I’m not impressed,” she narrowed her sights at the floating drone, “how long did this take you?”

“A year or so,” you answered, “it was… just meant to be a hobby but--”

“Well, make it your life,” she said tersely, “Wilson, you deal with HR, Sheila likes you better.”

“Leave it all to me,” he grinned and she walked away.

“Here,” he turned back to you, “I’ll show you the operating system for the real deal.”

He ushered you and Reese over to a computer after you lowered your drone. The real Redwing sat on a module next to the screen and Sam punched the keys and took a hooked earpiece from a small stand, “put this on.”

You slipped the earpiece on as he revealed a bracelet and adjusted it on your wrist, a small ring looping up your index finger.

“Bend your finger,” he said and you did it, “lift it up, back… like that.” Redwing rose and you watched in amazement, “tilt your head…” the drone aimed in the same direction as your head, “now back,” it flew higher, “just like that. You’re getting it.”

You steered the drone in a circle and Sam helped you maneuver it back down. He let you hand the controls over to Reese who had more fun with it and nearly took out one of the workers. He apologised and Sam just chuckled, though it didn’t sound so amused.

When Redwing was back in its place, Sam took you all around the room to show you every gadget; his wings, his suit, all his little weapons, and even pulled up some Wakandan schematics of Bucky’s arm. Much of it wasn’t in English however and you could only decipher what was visually laid out.

He left you there for a moment as he excused himself to chat with a tech about his wings. Reese huffed and leaned against the wall. You were quiet, mostly stunned, though your usual reticence could also be blamed.

“I don’t think you should’ve brought me,” he said, “I told you it was a job interview.”

“I didn’t know, I thought you would enjoy it,” you felt awful as Reese had given up trying to hide his jealousy.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, “well, it is pretty cool but…”

He was interrupted as Sam returned, “sorry about that, guys, I kinda messed up one of the engines on the wings on my last mission.”

You smiled and said it was fine. You hadn’t expected so much attention and thought it would be a brief little show and tell, not an entire tour. You returned to the table where you left your drone and shut down the app. You packed up your Redwing, it felt lighter but you were sure you were just imagining things as your head spun. You looked down at the bold signature across the shell and knotted the drawstring above its nose.

“Sorry, I…” you took your bag from the table, “I hate to bother but is there a bathroom I can use.”

“Oh yeah, just head back up the stairs, left of the elevators,” Sam pointed above, “we’ll wait here, there’s one last thing I wanna show you.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” you headed for the stairs and latched onto the railing before you could trip upwards.

You bumbled up the stairs and after a brief moment of blankness, you found your way to the bathroom. You quickly slipped into the stall and spent a minute at the mirror after washing your hands to get your head straight. It felt like a dream, or worse, a joke.

You headed back out and Sam was waiting just by the elevators to your surprise. You pursed your lips and glanced around, “where’s Reese?”

“Oh, yeah, uh, he left,” he said as he shoved his hand in his pocket, “said he wasn’t feeling it.”

“Really?” you shrunk, just a little, “erm… that’s too bad.”

“Yeah, kinda weird, I don’t think I’ve ever just ditched a girlfriend in the middle of the city,” he said.

“Girlfriend? Well… it’s… it’s early,” you rubbed the back of your neck, “I hope he’s okay.”

“Damn, I hope he didn’t ruin it, I still wanted to show you the shield,” he intoned, “but if you’re not feeling up to it--”

“No, no, I’m here, that would be awesome,” you forced a smile.

Had you done something wrong? Was it rude to invite Reese and have all this rubbed in his face? You thought he’d feel worse if you didn’t invite him. Your doubts flurried in your head as you stepped onto the elevator with Sam, chewing your cheek as you tried not to show your disappointment.

You were brought back to the present as the metal doors opened and Sam nudged you as you stared right through the open space. You stepped out ahead of him and he caught up and walked beside you as he explained what was hidden in every room; mostly offices and training gyms.

He unlocked a door at the far curve of the circular hallway and jiggled until it opened. He pushed it open and the lights flicked on automatically.

“Bucky,” he grumbled, “he almost took the handle right off… so now I gotta fight it.”

“Oh,” you entered as he beckoned you inside and you looked around the spacious office.

“You know, there’s lots of paperwork when you take out a whole bridge, even if it is an accident,” he laughed, “and it gives me a place to show this off.”

He went to the wall where the shield was held on small metal hooks and slid it out easily. The vibranium sung in the air as he turned to you and held it out.

“You wanna?” he asked.

“Sure…” you murmured as he turned it around and held it so you could hook your arm through the straps. He let it go and stood back to look you over.

“It suits you,” he said, “got your own Redwing and you hold that like a real champ. Maybe it’s time I step aside.”

You laughed nervously and shook your head. You peeked down at the metal and lifted and angled around as you admired the smooth curve.

“Thanks,” you offered it back to him and he took it with one hand, “for everything.”

“You’re taking the job, right?” he prodded, “it’s perfect.”

“Mmm, well, I got a job--”

“Better than here? Better than suiting up the Cap?” he chided.

You bent your ankle under you and swayed on your feet. It was a great opportunity and way better than your desk job. It just felt like you didn’t deserve it.

“I need an answer. Greta doesn’t like indecision,” he said.

“O-okay, okay,” you surrendered, “I… if I said no, I’d feel even worse.”

“You won’t regret it, promise,” he said, “if you do, Redwing is yours. The real one.”

“No, no, I’m…” you rocked as you gripped the straps of your knapsack, “I’m sure I won’t.”

🌠

Your two weeks notice rolled by. Your boss was less than pleased by the sudden departure but you didn’t care much as you wouldn’t have to deal with him for much longer. You wrapped up your last day with your replacement and left feeling free, though the anxiety of your job loomed on the other side of the weekend.

In those weeks since your visit to the SWORD facility, you hadn’t heard much from Reese. That night when you messaged him to make sure he was okay, he didn’t say much more than ‘just tired’. After that, he was always offline when you signed onto the server and all your co-op requests were declined. You were ready to give up.

Oh well, it was an online thing anyway, you were stupid to think it could work out.

But you were not entirely isolated. To your surprise, you got several messages from Sam, you still couldn’t help but think of him as Captain America and feel like you had nothing interesting to say to a hero. When he found out you liked to game, he even joined you for a session on headset but again, you were hyper focused and quiet. You were flattered that he was trying to make you feel welcome, that he even bothered to get you a job, but it all felt so above you.

When you got home that night, you logged in and sent a request to Reese, just one last attempt. He didn’t even respond, even after fifteen minutes of waiting. You shut down your PC and grabbed your switch instead. You changed as the system updated your Animal Crossing and flopped onto your bed.

You laid across the mattress, one leg over the edge and the other bent. You ran through, planting, fishing, and selling as you tried not to think too much. You’d done enough of that lately. You zoned out as your eyes narrowed at the small screen but in your peripheral, you felt a shadow move. You shrugged it off as the sunlight playing through the curtains and rolled onto your side to ignore it.

You kept on, ready to log out as you didn’t want to spend another Nook Ticket to go to and island and get nothing but flowers. You heard a subtle whirring and glanced over at your computer. It was sleeping and it was never that loud. You noticed that light shift again and turned. There was nothing. Nothing but your dresser and the signed drone, just as you left it.

You squinted and turned off your Switch. You went out to the front room to drop it back in the dock. You stretched and grabbed your phone from your purse to put in an order for some take-out. You stopped as you noticed Sam’s unanswered messages.

‘Whatcha doin’ tonite?’ and several that assumed you must be busy.

‘Sorry, got caught up gaming,’ you replied guiltily.

Your phone shook before you could close out of the chat and you answered as Sam’s name flashed across the top.

“Hello?” you squeaked.

“Hey, hope I’m not buggin’ you but I thought-- stop, Jesus Christ, sorry, we’re on our way to dinner and we hoped you might join us.”

“We?” you echoed.

“Oh, ha, yeah me and Bucky, Greta, and some of the techs. Not too many of us but you’re more than welcome,” he said, “since you start on Monday, it will be good to get to know some people.”

“Y-yeah, for sure,” you answered. It felt more an obligation than an invite. You didn’t want to come across snobbish or lazy even if you’d rather eat fried noodles and watch some trash reality TV.

“Great! I’ll send you the address,” he growled and hissed under his breath, “sorry, again, I’m just dealing with this-- I’ll see you there. Save ya a seat.”

He hung up abruptly and you stood dumbfounded staring at your jacket. You dropped your phone back into your purse and headed back to your room. You had to find something to wear that didn’t seem like you were trying too hard or not trying enough.

As you entered, that same whirring floated through the air and suddenly stopped. You looked around confused; not a fly, not your PC acting up, nothing. You grimaced at the poster with the star emblem across it and went to your dresser to pick out an outfit. It was probably the neighbour fucking around. Apartment living was rarely peaceful.

🌠

The restaurant was bustling as you were met by the hostess at the door. You told her you were there to join the party from SWORD. She showed you to the table and Sam saw you above the din and waved to you then shoved Bucky over on the cushioned bench.

“Right here,” he pointed as he waved you over and stepped aside to let you past. You sidled along and sat, apologizing to Bucky as he rolled his eyes, “not too late.”

You gave your drink order as a waiter came by and shrugged out of your jacket, letting it bunch up around your back. Sam offered his menu and introduced the people you didn’t know at the table; alongside Bucky and Greta, were Xan and Wyatt. You said hello and opted for the fiesta salad as you set aside the menu.

“Are you excited?” Sam asked.

“For what?” Bucky huffed, “she’s gotta put up with you.”

“Hey,” Sam took the lemon off the rim of his glass and tossed it at Bucky, “he lightens up… sometimes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky grumbled but you could hear the humour in his voice.

You sank into the background as the night went on. You spoke up when you were called on but felt it hard to assert yourself, especially with someone as outspoken as Sam beside you. Still, he made sure to make you feel included when you started to feel forgotten. For that you were grateful and he was right, it made you feel a little less anxious about your first day.

As you came out onto the sidewalk, your wallet painfully lighter, you bid goodbye to everyone but Sam hung around. You clutched your purse and peered down the street.

“Thanks for inviting me,” you said.

“Ah, you know what, I shoulda asked that guy, Reese? How’s it going with him? He your boyfriend yet?”

“Ha, no,” you sucked in your lip and took a deep breath, “I don’t even think we’re friends anymore.”

“Oh no, what happened?” he asked.

“I dunno,” you said wistfully, “but it is what it is.”

“He’s missin’ out. You’re a cool girl,” he said, “building drones for fun. Kinda why I had to snag you, you know? Someone with your skills, that’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” you chortled, “no.”

“Well,” he checked his phone, “how are you getting home?”

“I’ll just take the train,” you said, “my place is only about a ten minute ride from here.”

“You sure? I can give you a ride,” he said.

“Nah, really, you’ve done… more than enough.”

“Alright, well, see you Monday?”

“Monday?” you wondered.

“I’ll pop in before I head out,” he said, “got a mission so I might not be around more than that.”

“Okay, Monday,” you confirmed, “see ya.”

🌠

Monday was a whirlwind. It started on a high as Sam suited up and showed off his wings before he headed up to the jet pad. Greta muttered that she was happy he’d be out of your way before she went through the task of getting you acquainted not only with the tech but with their workplace rituals. It was a lot to take in but you did your best to absorb every word and second.

When you got home, you had a folder full of notes and spent too long going over them before you remembered the groan in your stomach. You ate a lazy super of Kraft Dinner and lazed across your bed doing nothing but watching Youtube tutorials on your tablet. You fell asleep early and woke to your alarm and a dead tablet.

You got up, got dressed, ran out, and did it all again. The first week dragged by and yet it felt like you didn’t have enough time. On Friday, you got home and fell across the couch in your work clothes. You held your phone above you and scrolled dozily through your feed.

A dot popped up and you flicked over to your notifications. The selfie you posted on your first day at the lab with Sam in his suit had lots of hearts but your first comment was less than pleasant. Beside Reese’s icon was all caps: MUST BE EASY SLEEPING YOUR WAY INTO A JOB!

Your heart pattered and you sat up. You deleted the comment but another soon appeared; several as you kept deleting and finally blocked him. ‘Slut, whore, dumb bitch…’ it was the last thing you expected from him.

You opened Discord and clicked on his chat. ‘What’s going on? Why are you doing this?’

The text flicked across the bottom that Reese was typing but he stopped and you sat there for what felt like forever before his response popped up.

‘I can’t believe you brought me all the way there to rub my face in all that shit. And for what? You should’ve just told me I had no chance and I woulda left you alone. If you wanna fuck Sam Wilson, do it, but don’t chain me along like your little bitch boy. Get fucked slut.’

You flinched as you read it and re-read it. You typed shakily as your eyes watered. ‘I’m not fucking Sam and I wouldn’t. I brought you there because I wanted to and thought you would like it. I didn’t know you felt so strongly about it. But I see what you think of me so I only wish you the best and hope you find peace.’

You sent the message but just as quickly, you were blocked from sending any more. You tossed your phone and fell back against the couch. That must have been why he took off but you couldn’t figure out how he thought you of all people were sleeping with Sam Wilson. Really? He was just another incel after all.

You phone jangled with your annoying ringtone and you grabbed it, expecting to be insulted by Reese again but it was Sam calling. You really weren’t in the mood to talk with him. You just wanted to be left alone. But you couldn’t just ignore Captain America.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Hey, I just got back in town. Whatcha doing?” you could hear the wind in the speaker.

“Just got home. I’m exhausted. Probably gonna just nap.”

“You okay?” he asked after a moment.

“Fine,” you said dully.

“Don’t sound fine,” he said, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you insisted.

“Oh, so it’s not what that boy said on your photo?”

“You saw that?”

“You tagged me, remember?”

“Oh, yeah, no, it’s…”

“Shit, don’t listen to him. He’s just a boy, he blew his chance and he’s bitter about it,” he said, “how about I come over, make sure you’re really okay?”

“No, I don’t think--”

“Ah, come on, don’t make me worry all night about you,” he chided.

“Sam, you really--” There was a knock at the window and you froze. “Sam?”

The line clicked and you heard the tapping again. You lowered your phone and went to the window. Outside, geared up in his wings and suit, Sam hovered before the glass. You blinked and he rapped again. You snapped out of your shock and unlocked the window and slid it up.

“What are you doing?” you asked, “wait? How do you know where I live?”

He grabbed onto the frame and hooked his leg through as he retracted his wings. He bent under and sat half-in and half-out of the window, “forgive me? I did a bit of snooping in HR.”

“I told you not to come. I really don’t feel up to-- It’s really weird that you’re here,” you sat as he ducked pulled his other leg through and stood, “Sam, I think you should go.”

“You shouldn’t be alone, especially after that moron sending you that shit,” he said coolly as he took off his tinted goggles.

“Well, I want to be alone, so you should--”

“I mean, I haven’t even fucked you yet and he’s jealous,” he snickered, “so I guess we should give him a real reason.”

“What are you talking about? That’s… gross. You should go--”

“Come on, girl, you think this was really about a drone,” he tossed his goggles down and set his shield on the chair as he strode around the room, “convenience. I want you close.”

“I don’t--” you looked down at your phone, “get out, Sam.”

The tone of your finger pressing ‘9’ sounded and he spun quickly to face you. He stormed over to you before you could hit ‘1’ and ripped it from your grasp.

“You’re gonna call the cops and say what? I’m Captain America,” he snarled, “but you can just call me Cap.”

He winked and threw your phone out the window smoothly. You gasped as he chuckled and lifted his wings off his back. He leaned them against the wall and stretched out his shoulders. He looked around as he twisted his tongue between his teeth.

“I like this, looks cozy,” he toed the side of the couch with his boot, “look better with you on it.”

You watched him stroll around the coffee table as he unzipped the collar of his suit. The scene was like some tainted nightmare. Maybe you’d fallen asleep. You were so tired you must have just passed out but you weren’t waking up.

You spun around and ran into the small hallway that led to your door. You were caught from behind, pulled back by the nape of your blazer as Sam tutted. His arm went around your waist and he lifted you off your feet. He turned and carried you back into the front room. You kicked and writhed as his strength enwrapped you.

“Please, please,” you begged, “I… I don’t understand. This isn’t-- this isn’t what I wanted. I didn’t--”

“Baby girl,” he cooed as he brought you close to the couch, “be good and listen to your Captain. Now stop this.”

“No, no,” you gulped at air as the panic rose in you, “I never-- please, you don’t have to do this--”

“You gotta do what I say,” he snapped and flung you onto the couch, “I don’t want to make you.”

You looked at him as you trembled in fear and disbelief. This couldn’t be. He was Sam Wilson, the Captain America; he was a nice guy.

“You have one minute to get naked,” he said and you just gaped at him, “you gonna make me repeat myself?”

Your throat tightened as his dark eyes bore into you. His hand balled to a fist and finally you found an ounce of strength. You pushed your legs over the edge of the couch and slipped out of your blazer. You stood carefully and watched him cautiously. You had to look away as your hands quivered over the buttons of your blouse.

You turned and folded your shirt over your blazer. You could hear him behind you as you unbuttoned your pants and pushed them down your legs. The question of what you were doing flitted through your head but the fear pulsed through you and took over.

“Ah,” he sighed and you peeked back as he freed himself of the top half of his stealth suit.

You turned back and hesitated. You knew there was more, you knew what he wanted, but your body locked up as your fingers curled and your insides knotted.

“Let me get that,” he came close and his fingers tickled along your shoulder blades and he unhooked your bra, “hmmm,” he let go and the cups fell off your chest, “almost there, baby.”

He stepped back and you shuddered. You dropped your bra and hooked your fingers under your panties. You wiggled them down a little at the time and heard the intake of breath as you pulled them down entirely. You stood still, unable to move, too mortified to face him.

“Come on, baby,” he said, “get comfortable.”

You inhaled and turned slowly. You went to the couch as he shed his undershirt and added it to the pile atop his shield. He looked at you and tilted his head as he licked his bottom lip. He snarled as he took in the sight of you and pointed you to the couch.

You sat and hugged yourself as he stripped off his pants along with his boxers in a single swipe. You flicked your eyes away as you glimpsed his hard dick as he stood straight and you stared at the open window. You smushed your lips together in horror and held in the tide of tears.

He came closer and you tried to tune out the room. This couldn’t happen. It just couldn’t. You felt his hands on your knees and he urged your legs apart. You resisted for a moment then let him guide your limbs. It would be over sooner if you just let it happen.

He knelt on the floor as his hands kneaded along your thighs and framed your vee as he leaned over your lap. You winced and he kept your legs from closing as he pushed his body between them. His thumb grazed your folds and he pushed between them. You let out a hushed gasp as he swirled around your clit.

“See, it’s not so bad to be good, is it, baby?” he purred, “you’re wet already.”

He slid his thumb up and down and spread the wetness along your cunt. You were shocked and humiliated by your obvious arousal. You shouldn’t be turned on by this. Your body was not listening to your mind, it was obeying his touch.

“Mmm,” he hummed as he turned his hand and poked along your entrance with one finger.

He pushed inside and you clenched around his intrusion. He pulled in and out and added another finger. Your nails clawed at the cushion and you pressed back into the couch. He kept his thumb on your clit as he worked his fingers inside of you and the tension clustered between his fingertips.

“Oh, baby, listen to you,” he bet forward and replaced his thumb with his tongue as he kept fingering you.

You turned your face up to the ceiling and squeezed your eyes shut. You bit your lip as the ripples radiated from your core and your breath hitched. His hand moved faster as he suckled at your bud and his free hand groped your chest blindly. You slapped your hand over your mouth as you came, your back arching as you pushed into him.

He teased you through your climax and pulled away only as you quaked and whined at his unyielding touch. He drew his fingers out of you and sat back to lick them clean. You peeked down at him and quickly away as his eyes blazed back at you.

“Up,” he stood and stroked himself shamelessly as he strode around the coffee table, “put your hands on there.”

You rose unsteadily, legs shaking beneath you as your entire being felt like jelly. You went to him and turned your back to him. You bent over and he grabbed your ass and squeezed with a growl. You gripped the table and hung your head as the cool air grazed your cunt.

He shoved his hand between your legs and rubbed you again. He stepped closer and bent his knees as he lined himself up with your entrance, sliding in between his fingers as he spread you wide. You choked as his tip poked inside and he eased himself inch by inch into you. He held your hip as he reached his limit and groaned.

“Baby, oh god damn,” he thrust so that your whole body jerked. It was painfully delightful. Of the few men you’d been with, he was the biggest, or at least the thickest.

He rocked slowly and a moan escaped your lips. Despite the torturous pressure of his intrusion, you could ignore the pleasure laced in the pain. His hand brushed up your as and along your back. He bent over you as his fingers curled over your shoulder and he pressed his body to yours as he fucked you.

You kept your head down as you tried to measure your breaths and the pathetic noises rising from you. He pushed his hand down your stomach and between your legs again to play with your clit. He moved his legs against yours and forced them together so your cunt hugged him even tighter. He grunted and you whimpered as his fingers added to the new pressure.

He sped up so that the table scraped against the floor but kept you up with one arm around you. He rutted into you wildly as his sultry voice filled your chest and his heat consumed you. You cried out as another orgasm swept through you and your cunt quivered around him desperately.

He pulled you up suddenly so you stood on your toes. He tilted into you as he brought his arms up around yours and tined his fingers behind your head. His flesh slapped yours loudly and you opened your eyes as you heard a familiar whirring. The drone flew before you, the signature on its shell, but a light blinking at its nose. Yours didn’t have a light.

“What--”

“Ah, yeah,” he rasped through rampant breaths, “looks like they got mixed up.”

“Huh--” you sucked in your breath as he thrust harder and deeper.

“I didn’t mind, he helped me keep an eye on you,” he said as he nuzzled you above his hands, “you look so cute in your little tee shirts.”

You groaned and leaned your head against him as another rush of fear was met with unwanted bliss. You murmured senselessly as he picked up his pace and the drone came closer. He purred as you felt his muscles tighten.

“Don’t worry,” he puffed, “I’ll make sure the boy knows he was right.”

He buried himself in you, nearly taking you off your feet, and twitched as he emptied himself into you. He rocked his hips subtly as he rode out his climax and stilled you as his voice gristled to rampant pants. His arms fell to embrace you and he kept you flush to him as he lingered inside.

“Or I can keep that little video to myself…” he brought his hand up to cradle your chin and poked his finger along your lower lip, “it’s all up to you, baby.”

#sam wilson #dark sam wilson #dark!sam wilson #one shot #sam wilson x reader #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #tfatws #falcon #captain america #mcu #marvel #bucky barnes #avengers

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olderthannetfic · 3 years

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I see your asks about decentralisation of fandom spaces and I want to ask how you ideally see it? Split spaces for each fandom? I just have hard time imagining what it's like. I wasn't on the Internet before this rise of Social Media

It wouldn't be by fandom but by taste profile and social group. The thing about those old spaces is that they take a lot of work, and it's much, much harder to be a lurker because to even find out about spaces or to be granted entry, you often have to put yourself out there.

This can be scary and painful for many, but it can also pay off in a community that's more invested in being there and that understands it has its own social norms that may not be 100% exactly like those in every other space. We used to tell people to "lurk more" if they were new and clueless. There was an expectation that you can't actually just hop into every conversation or space instantly, not for gatekeepery reasons (though those certainly happened a lot too), but because that's how socializing works!

If you walk up to some people having a conversation at a party, you need to listen a little for context before you know how to chime in in a way that's on-topic. That was always true online and off, but if you're on twitter or wherever, there's a bit of an expectation nowadays that 100% of everything is intelligible to everyone at all times. The actual technology of tumblr and twitter is designed to de-contextualize conversations and smash people together who will instantly misinterpret or dislike each other. Even if you're trying in good faith not to step on each other's toes, it can be hard figuring out who "owns" a hashtag.

Old mailing lists were a lot like current discords: every time the mods have a big fight, some of them go make a new discord with a new set of rules--usually with some shade thrown on the previous space. Ditto for livejournal coms: there might be only one for a very small fandom, but you'd usually have a few different ones with different rules and focuses and somewhat different sets of users. Fanfic archives were like this too, at least in bigass fandoms like Harry Potter that could sustain multiple different ones.

Harrypotterfanfiction.com just closed after many years. From what I saw, at its closure, it had an active community posting on its forums, and the typical user was probably a Hermione/Draco shipper or into canon-ish gen or something. Compare to AO3 where there are no forums, the HP fans are too numerous to be one single community, and the fic tends to be problematique m/m imported from old archives.

It's pretty cool that those HP fans had a space with a specific vibe they liked and forums all the way up to 2021. A smaller site can often get enough mods with similar views and have low enough traffic to make that work. AO3, while great, is no substitute.

The downside to this approach with lots of different little spaces is that there's no one stop shop for your fandom needs, and it's hard to find things. The upside is that a given space can set social norms as it prefers, whether that's "never bring up loli" or "No spouting 'fanfic is used to groom' bullshit that sounds like pizzagate".

Spaces tend to be pretty nice with a few dozen active users. That's enough that you get a good stream of activity and some different views while still letting you have a sense of everyone as a distinct individual with feelings.

'Decentralization' can also refer to technologies that are more peer-to-peer instead of having one central server. These offer a lot of less corporate possibilities, but they tend to require a certain level of tech know how, at least on the part of the owner/mod.

So I guess how I see it is:

spaces with robust moderation tools

spaces that prioritize longform conversation that is findable later (accurate timestamps, good text search, big character limits, possibly asynchronous)--forums can be a good example of this

multiple instances of the same tech but with different social rules (so one discord for the badwrong dubcon fans and a different one for the gen fluff fans; one forum for the people who find debate and concrit fun and another that prioritizes harmony and cheerleading)

hosting that doesn't spy on you and doesn't use an algorithm to direct you to content (so probably paid for by members rather than ad-supported, probably open source rather than run by a big corporation, etc.)

low ability to go viral

sites that are fanfic/art/etc. fandom-focused rather than general geek/sff/anime/etc.-focused and too small/obscure and/or locked/private to appeal to famous actors or aspiring influencers

spaces that prioritize knowing the 20 other fans you're hanging out with rather than worrying about having your finger on the pulse of "all" of fandom

Honestly, it looks a lot like what's going on on discord lately. The only hitch is 1. that discord is realtime chat, which is hard to keep up with if things get busy and 2. that discord is a single company that can pull the plug on everyone easily if they decide certain "icky" content harms their profits.

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maxwell-grant · 3 years

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May I please ask what your preferred dynamic between Holmes & Lupin would be? (From what I can tell, the term 'frenemies' might have been invented for these two - if any two characters in fiction WOULD spend all their time trying to one-up each other it's these two, if only their diverse other commitments, challenges & interests left them the free time to do so: I'm also morally certain a sadly-hypothetical Holmes/Lupin team is one of the few things that could bring down Fantomas for Good).

I think "frenemies" is what ultimately works best for these two specifically, because there's a certain untouchability to icons as big as these two that limits the potential stories you can tell with them (although yes, definitely on board with the two having what it takes to bring down Fantomas, although probably not as cleanly and easily as they might expect).

The original Leblanc stories involving this premise are very much centered around one-upmanship, even embracing a theme of national rivalry of England vs France. They acknowledge Holmes's talents but without the awe, with a somewhat aged Holmes with mundane imperfections easily exploited by the daring young thief, someone deserving of his legend but who doesn't quite live up to it. Obviously Lupin's gotta have the upperhand, not just because it's his author writing it, but because the whole point of Lupin's creation was to be the new hotness, the counterpart to both the stuffy old Great Detectives as well as the aristocratic master burglars, and really, what kind of rising superstar would he be if he couldn't put one over the other guy? If he's gonna live up to his claim of being the greatest criminal ever, he's gotta be able to humble the greatest detective at least a little.

The treatment of Watson (Wilson) is tasteless and it's frankly a bit saddening to see that even back then writers were still shitting on Watson far too much, but on the whole I think Leblanc was a lot fairer to Holmes than he could have been (certainly other writers from this time period who added Holmes to their stories were not as fair), he makes it very clear Holmes is not just another Ganimard out of his depth and is very much as close to an equal Lupin's ever had. I think the description used to cap off their final meeting is very much on point:

"You see, monsieur, whatever we may do, we will never be on the same side. You are on one side of the fence; I am on the other. We can exchange greetings, shake hands, converse a moment, but the fence is always there.

You will remain Herlock Sholmes, detective, and I, Arsène Lupin, gentleman-burglar. And Herlock Sholmes will ever obey, more or less spontaneously, with more or less propriety, his instinct as a detective, which is to pursue the burglar and run him down, if possible.

And Arsène Lupin, in obedience to his burglarious instinct, will always be occupied in avoiding the reach of the detective, and making sport of the detective, if he can do it. And, this time, he can do it" - Arsene Lupin vs Herlock Sholmes

The consistent outcome is that Holmes "wins" the material battle while Lupin gets away with the spiritual or karmic victory. The first story, Holmes has Lupin figured out from a glance, robbing him of his greatest asset, and Lupin even tells Holmes under a guise that he has no greater admirer than himself. Holmes choses not to arrest Lupin, and instead solves the mystery as quickly as Lupin would. But he is also, well, inferior. His "commonplace appearence" dissappoints the guests and detectives at the crime scene, he doesn't resemble their expectations, he is gruff, ungracious, arrogant and all-business, an Englishman all the way, and Lupin one-ups him by returning to him his stolen watch, and Holmes is not a good sport about it.

The whole "Herlock Sholmes" name change, although it was out of legal obligation, almost reads like a cheeky courtesy of Leblanc, like he's giving Holmes enough of a courtesy in sparing him the embarassment of being the loser. And the following adventures stay consistent: Sholmes is smart, as smart as Lupin, and he's a gentleman. But he isn't as smart as he thinks he is, and he isn't as much of a gentleman as Lupin. He resorts to unsporting tactics like intimidating Lupin's lover and involving the police in their conflict, and in the end, he's solved the crime, but "sown the seeds of discord" in a family Lupin was protecting, becoming the villain for a change, a role reversion Lupin openly laughs at. Holmes wins the "loot", he wins the material battle, but Lupin has the last laugh, and despite being a self-proclaimed villain, Lupin gets the moral victory.

It's a quite unflattering view of Holmes and one perhaps not suited for a crossover outside of the specific context of Holmes being the old and stuffy intruder in an Arsene Lupin story. Then again, every great hero needs a lesson in humility every now and then.

There's a particularly interesting variant of this dynamic to be found within China's own takes on Sherlock Holmes and Arsene Lupin.

Sherlock Holmes was quite the breakout hit for Chinese audiences at the time of his release, revered as an alternative to Judge Bao and the court-case novels. It's estimated that from 1903 to 1909, detective fiction constituted over almost 50% percent of all Western translated fiction, and with Holmes followed others like Nick Carter and Charlie Chan, and then Arsene Lupin, and soon their own local versions. The most famous and popular of which was Huo Sang, created by Cheng Xiaoqing, who was one of the main translators for Conan Doyle's stories. Cheng Xiaoqing even wrote his own take on Sherlock Holmes vs Arsene Lupin called "The Diamond Necklace", intending on correcting Leblanc's take, although interestingly, he unintentionally recreates the exact outcome by giving Holmes an unsporting attitude, where he "wins" only because Lupin lets him, and Lupin gets away again with the moral high ground. He would fare off much better in correcting Holmes with his own character, Huo Sang.

Huo Sang has a lot of similarities to Holmes, even with his own Watson counterpart, but was also designed to represent a few more traditional Chinese values. He is a science teacher with no addictions who belittles the wealthy class and fights for the poor, and he is praised for humility, one story even making a point to criticize Holmes for arrogance. He is a very Westernized character, with suits and guns and cigarettes galore, but the books were very dictatic and the author marketed them as "disguised textbooks for science", playing up on a newfound social reverence to scientific methods and self-improvement and national rejuvenation.

The stories deal heavily with corruption of the police force and institutions. In the earlier stories he outright calls police detectives useless rice buckets only good for solving petty thefts and preying on those that can't defend themselves, and while they become less sinister in later stories, Huo Sang's relation with law enforcement is much more frayed than Holmes's own. He uses dirty police tactics of his own and sometimes takes the law into his own hands, thinking the law cannot possibly achieve justice on it's own. His biggest loyalty is to his country and he values his reputation above all else. He values justice more than the law, like Holmes. But like Holmes, he still prefers to work inside the law and within Chinese traditions.

"Bao Lang, you scholar, you're too idealistic. Don't you realize how weak the law is in modern society? Privilege and power, favors and money - the law has all these deadly enemies

"We investigate half to slake our thirst for knowledge, half out of duty to serve and uphold justice. In the realm of justice, we are never constrained by the wooden and unfeeling law. For in this society, which is gradually tending to surrender its core to material things, the spirit of the rule of law cannot be put into general practice, and the weak and ordinary people are aggrieved, more often than not unable to enjoy the protection of the law.

Lu Ping, as you'd expect from a counterpart to Lupin, was much different. In fact, right in his very first story, he was already pitted against Huo Sang and outsmarting him, in a story called "Wooden Puppet Play". The character is inspired by an already existing tradition within Chinese literature of the "chivalrous thief", shapeshifting masters of deception and martial arts, and considered admirable and benevolent opposite to the corrupt government officials they outwit.

His stories are more whimsical, energized, more varied, less dedicated to strict science. He whistles while committing crimes, is identifiable by a red tie and wooden puppets he uses to signal his goons on what outfit he's gonna be wearing, and even cracks asides to the reader. In many aspects Lu Ping is influenced by hard-boiled Western detective stories, and naturally, he has a much more contemptious view of the law than Huo Sang

Well then, was he willing, in his capacity as thief, to represent the sanctity of the law and catch the murderer? Yes, he would be quite happy to round up that murderer. But he wasn't at all willing to boost the reputation of the law. He'd always felt that the law was only something like an amulet that certain smart guys had fabricated to get them out of embarassing situations.

Such an amulet migh be good for scaring away idiots, but it oculdn't threaten the violent, crafty and arrogant evil ones. Not only could it not scare them away, a lot of them hid right behind it to work their evil tricks!

Conflicts between these two are not just rooted in one-upsmanship or the patriotic conflict between the two, but instead in two differing approaches to justice, their influence on fellow Chinese writers to step outside tradition, and the respective ways they address issues in society. Additionally, it's not just a conflict between Great Detective vs Gentleman Villain, but the Holmesian Detective and the Hardboiled Detective. And, naturally, when the two met, a pattern reocurred again.

Writing a Lu Ping tale in his usual manner, Sun Liaohong deprives the detective of the advantage he typically enjoys at the hand of Cheng Xiaoqing or any other follower of Conan Doyle - narration by the detective's coadjutor.

It is Huo Sang who slinks around like a thief, alarming hotel service personnel. He becomes rattled, and even so is vain and arrogant. He is a bit too positivist about searching for clues, and he spends a remarkable amount of time just relaxing and waiting for something to happen.

The figure of "wooden puppets" turns wicked when the author uses the term to refer to Huo Sang, Bao Lang, and the police. Satirizing the genre as a play in which the author woodenly manipulates his character. But Lu Ping as puppet is a genius, moving from one identity to another, whereas Huo Sang is a dumbbell - wooden indeed, bourgeois, ridiculed.

A gentleman's agreement occurs only at the end. Huo Sang has the formal victory. He frees Lu Ping in order to get the paining, but the exhibition is held a day late and it now bears Lu Ping's seal.

In wartime, peace talks, diplomacy and gentlemen's agreements are just smoke screens, the stuff of puppetry. Both Huo Sang and Lu Ping surround themselves with lies to reach their final accomodation. Perhaps they are both puppets - Chinese Justice, the Fiction: Law and Literature in Modern China, by Jeffrey C. Kinkley

Both characters were canned in 1949 when the CCP banned detective fiction, and it was replaced with anti-spy literature about how the party police would expose counterrevolutionary conspiracies. They never got to have a rematch, and to my understanding there were a couple of films made afterwards about them, Huo Sang had a very recent one in 2019, but never another meeting.

I guess the takeaway here time and time again is that, credit to Holmes and all, but:

#replies tag #pulp heroes #pulp fiction #sherlock holmes #herlock sholmes #arthur conan doyle #arsene lupin #maurice leblanc #lupinchads can't stop winning

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janamelie · 3 years

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Dimension Jump XXI Report

I suppose I’m a DJ veteran now as this was my fifth consecutive one and the fourth at the Nottingham Crowne Plaza which is an expensive four-star hotel. Sharing with a friend helps keep the cost reasonable and honestly, it’s worth it for the sheer convenience of being right there in the hotel and being able to nip back to your room as required. (To be clear, you don’t have to stay in the hotel to attend the con. There are plenty of other hotels nearby.)

Plus there is always the chance that you’ll see a guest at breakfast as I did Danny once. He picked out a few pieces of fruit and nibbled at them before wandering over late to his photoshoot. What else would you expect from a cat though?

Friday

Myself and @downonthepharm-red-dwarf (Amy) had arrived the previous day so had plenty of time to be near the front of the queue for registration. Which meant we saw Hattie Hayridge arrive in a stunning designer coat and with smart luggage. She really brought her outfit A-game and looked great the whole weekend.

Once we’d presented our respective proofs of full Covid vaccination or a recent negative test, we were given our DJ passes and booklets. The latter has spaces for signatures from guests, an Order Of Events and various handy tips for the weekend.

The con kicks off at 5pm with an hour of gradual build-up in the Main Hall - they show videos from previous events, specially made titbits with various guests past and present such as Mark Dexter doing a mock guide to DJ and Rebecca Blackstone voicing Pree. It all helps with the atmosphere, as do the numerous RD posters dotted around the hotel.

Then it was time for the Opening Ceremony featuring various Fan Club team members and an overcrowded stage full of cardboard boxes - the joke was that they’d had too much time on their hands during lockdowns and bought loads of stuff online. It was obviously also a nod to Lister’s hoarding in “The Promised Land”.

The sketch featured a specially made shot of the AA adverts’ Starbug model landing outside the Crowne Plaza and an 80s computerised version of the lovely convention logo. You could tell a lot of loving effort had gone into the whole thing.

Once the guest line-up had been announced (I’ll get to that not-really-a-surprise-guest shortly), we went straight into the RD Pub Quiz, hosted by Hattie. DOTP and I had been joined at our table by Lapsang and Barbs from our Discord (No Kind Of Atmosphere) plus various other attendees we’d befriended.

Someone in the crowd yelled “I love you, Hattie!” to which she quipped “I’ve pulled already!” Another bloke shouted “Fuck off, she’s mine!” which led to a few shouts of “Fight!” When neither seemed keen to do so, Hattie joked: “Only two? That’s a bit pathetic!” and then we got started.

The quiz is hard, by design, but I’m good at quizzes and my team - No Kind Of Atmosphere after our Discord - came joint third which was gratifying. (I was on the winning team a few DJs ago, to blow my own trumpet for a moment. This is my report, after all.)

And then it was time for the first guest Q&A with - surprise, surprise - Johnny Vegas aka the Crit Cop in “Timewave”. Not a great episode but he more than made up for that with an appearance I can only describe as chaotic. Warning - DO NOT attempt to heckle him unless you want to be singled out and humiliated in front of the entire audience in a “Can’t look away” fashion which was nonetheless entertaining. The man in question tweeted about it afterwards and seems to have taken it in good spirit.

Once we’d moved on from encouraging people to leave unpleasant things in room 429, it turned out Johnny’s a big fan of the show and owned it on VHS (so did I). He thinks of the main characters, Holly would win at “Taskmaster” and had good reasons for that conclusion.

He was dubious about the pink costume he wore in “Timewave” as he thought it might take away from the character but said he eventually decided he needed to get over what he was wearing and just go for it. He also said one of his worst working moments was on “Benidorm” when he had to hold his breath underwater in a freezing swimming pool and his co-star kept forgetting her two lines so they had over 30 takes. Ouch.

Johnny left commenting that he got less love at his 50th birthday party. But we hadn’t seen the last of him by any means as people kept buying him drinks during the Auction, leading to him successfully bidding for one of the items on offer.

And then he was back for the Karaoke. Now if you - as he informed us - had to undergo emergency dental surgery in the morning and had practically lost your voice, would you sing karaoke? And not only that, would you sing a version of “Love On The Rocks” which lasted 11 minutes according to someone on Twitter (I wasn’t timing it, but I can believe it), followed by the full-length version of “American Pie”?

If you answered no, you’re clearly not Johnny Vegas. He went to bed so late that the unfortunate Fan Club team member assigned to look after him got a grand total of 90 minutes’ sleep.

Saturday

DOTP and I had paid for the Photoshoot with Mr Vegas, Danny John-Jules and Ray Fearon. We got in the queue at 9am which was when it was supposed to start. An hour later we were still waiting. Yep, Danny was late.

Once he made it to the hotel, I got my photo in front of a Science Room backdrop. You might think Mr Vegas would be hungover and rushing through it, but on the contrary, he was still enjoying the hell out of proceedings which was refreshing to see. Since he’d been added to the line-up too late to be in the souvenir booklet, he signed extra inserts for the Fan Club which they handed out to everyone at the later Autograph sessions so attendees got his autograph after all even though he’d finally left. That’s what I call throwing yourself into an event.

Next up was a combined Q&A with Danny and Ray (originally separate but Danny’s lateness meant they were teamed up). This wasn’t a problem at all though - on the contrary, it worked really well as the chumminess between them added to the vibe. Also it was Ray’s first convention so he probably preferred to have Danny backing him up, especially since the poor man tripped on his way to the stage and almost fell. I don’t think he was hurt but I cringed with secondhand embarrassment and empathy. He wasn’t the only one to fall foul of the edge of the stage that weekend; I think it was the slightly raised dancefloor in front of it.

As is usual for Danny, we were treated to over half an hour of what you can only really describe as a stream of consciousness as he pontificated about various things. He and Ray did also talk about working together on “Death In Paradise” and Ray described his worst working experience there - he had to play a scene in a club in 45 degree heat with a live snake wrapped around his neck!

Ray is attractive in a “Hollywood hunk” way and Danny was clearly conscious of this, joking that he’d “brought his own security with him” and muttering “I’m better-looking anyway!” But all in a jokey way as they’re clearly friends.

Danny had come from filming and dropped a heavy hint that he’s appearing in a Dickens adaptation which I imagine will be shown at Christmas as they generally are. He also complained that Craig Charles never answers his phone: “You send him a message and he answers it on Twitter a month later!” (Interestingly, Chris Barrie later mentioned a recent phone conversation with Craig so make of that what you will.)

Ray was quieter but happy to talk about the vagaries of showbiz and typecasting - he said that due to his Shakespearean background he gets a lot of serious roles so people were genuinely surprised that he could also do comedy but “I was always funny!” He also gently teased Danny about the age of some of his references before admitting he still finds Tommy Cooper funny.

Danny usually performs “Tongue-tied” with a good grace when inevitably asked to by an audience member but perhaps it’s finally starting to pall as this time he did it in the style of Oliver Reed’s Bill Sykes and included a lot of X-rated references to cunnilingus etc. It was entertaining though.

Next up was a live Q&A (over Zoom) with Chris Barrie. Danny decided to stick around as he wanted to show Chris something he’d ordered online. It took a while to get the cameras in the right position for Chris to be able to see it and Danny needed a knife to open the parcel, leading Chris to quip “Is this a good time for me to step out for some lunch?”

However, it turned out to be worth it as it was a custom-made Ace Rimmer doll which impressed Chris with its quality and he complimented the maker.

Danny and Ray then departed for their lunch and to take part in the Coffee Lounge which this year had reduced its numbers for Covid-related reasons and held a ballot for entry in the interests of fairness. Amy and I didn’t get in but happily stayed for the rest of Chris’s Q&A.

In the “working from home” spirit, Chris was in a hoodie in his living room as opposed to his more usual smart suit. He was suitably relaxed and revealed he got through lockdown by concentrating on the things which make him happy, such as his hobbies, his garden and his family. His favourite episodes are “Marooned”, “Dimension Jump” and - less predictably - “Twentica”. He also referred to a recent “mannerly, as he would call it” phone conversation with Craig. No details but it had clearly been a positive experience.

Amy decided to liven up the ending of his Q&A by asking a vitally important, “TPL”-related question. Whom would Rimmer find more attractive, a female version of Lister or a female version of Cat?

Once the laughter had died down and Chris had bought some time by pointing out that “neither of them are women”, he gave the question appropriate consideration. He pondered whether Rimmer would be more taken by the “simple charms” of Lister or the “feline grace” of Cat. This next bit is courtesy of Amy as my memory isn’t infallible: He said it’d be a choice between a feline form or a rounder, a bit more slovenly woman - he wouldn’t want the perfectly feline woman because she might not like his imperfections, but he also wouldn’t want someone who ate curry three times a day. “Basically, a balance would be ideal.”

That was the last question but Chris provided a little more entertainment as he had a “How do you turn this off then?” moment a la Gordon the computer in “Better Than Life” and made amusing faces as he figured it out. If it was anyone but Chris I’d think it was a deliberate reference to that but I think he was genuinely befuddled.

We then broke for lunch, followed by Autographs with Hattie, Danny, Ray and Norman Lovett. I got the latter three to sign the “TPL” poster I’d brought with me but gave Hattie the booklet instead as it seemed more tactful. She complimented the dress I was wearing and I returned the compliment, telling her how much the fans appreciate the effort she makes with her DJ outfits.

Norman commented how there’s a version of the “TPL” poster he isn’t on, bemusedly. Fortunately mine was the version including him.

I spent the rest of the afternoon chilling in the bar with Amy, Lapsang and Barbs, chatting to other attendees. Graphic Designer Matthew Clark was now in the Merchandise Room with various props from Series XII and “TPL” including the Starbug manual used onscreen. I got his autograph on my poster but it’s an incomprehensible squiggle. Oh well. He was very friendly and easy to talk to.

After a break for dinner, the Main Hall reopened for the Costume Competition. This seems to get better every DJ, with an amazing “Greyscale Rimmer” who was discomfiting to be around due to the corpse-like makeup, a Natalina Pushkin, a Nirvanah Crane who could almost have been Jane Horrocks herself and a Diving Suit Cat from “BTE”. Other entries included Rimmer’s Mum, “Giraffes who were armed and dangerous” and a Confidence And Paranoia who were later pictured at the bar chatting to Paranoia himself, Lee Cornes.

We then had a special video message from Doug Naylor which I won’t go into as I’m sure everyone’s already heard the details. Suffice to say, his tone was positive.

The second Auction was hosted by Ian Boldsworth who made it more entertaining by adding his own commentary to each item. This was followed by a stand-up set from Norman. It was amusing but he misjudged the mood a bit, I feel. When you’re waiting for a disco to start and it’s already hours late due to Danny’s tardiness, you don’t particularly want to contemplate your own mortality. We were here to get away from all that, as much as possible.

Anyway, the Disco was a lot of fun even if Dave Benson Phillips’ presence as host was sorely missed. Hattie danced for the best part of an hour alongside everyone else. The stand-in DJs did their job and I stayed until the end. The final two songs were “Bohemian Rhapsody” and … “Tongue-tied”.

Sunday

Not being in the Sunday Photoshoot, Amy and I had a nice leisurely breakfast and got over last night’s festivities before the first Q&A, live over Zoom with Robert Llewellyn.

This was hosted by Ian Boldsworth who in his capacity as Dave era audience warm-up knows Robert well. Clearly well enough to get away with teasing him relentlessly about not being at the con in person until poor Robert was a mess of Krytenesque guilt.

His protestations that he’d been scheduled to be in Munich this weekend but no longer was (he was at home) only made things worse. Ian: “Oh, so that’s two sets of people you’ve disappointed now! Stop saying yes to things!” It was hilarious and Robert took it in its intended spirit. Also Ian was getting a measure of revenge for Robert - in character as Kryten - dry humping him at recordings. One attendee asked “With the groinal attachment?!”

Robert admitted that he finds Kryten’s various groinal attachments hilarious and if he was writing the show they’d be in every episode. He praised Doug’s restraint.

He also admitted that in “TPL” he had an earpiece to have his lines fed to him. Since it’s controlled by an iPad, certain unscrupulous cast members took great delight in feeding him rude ones.

He still intends to update “The Man In The Rubber Mask” but atm “Fully Charged” is consuming a lot of his time as it’s become much more successful than he anticipated and he’s in charge of several people.

Surprisingly, he would hate appearing in RD without the Kryten makeup, both because it’s become much quicker to apply and because it provides him with a shield and he becomes Kryten and forgets stagefright. He still can’t watch “DNA” for that reason.

Lapsang, who played Kryten in “Into The Gloop”, asked Robert if he’d seen it. He hadn’t but said he was now very curious and would find a way to.

Next up was Lee Cornes aka Paranoia who said he originally auditioned for the lead roles and like the other unsuccessful actors got the consolation prize of a guest appearance. Upon being asked if he’d gone out for a drink with Craig Ferguson’s Confidence, he said no because at the time they had a frosty relationship due to rumours that Craig was plagiarising other comics’ jokes. Lee said it was all very silly and he’s since apologised.

Interestingly, Lee is a qualified science teacher and carried on with that career alongside his media one, leading to surreal situations where his pupils would ask: “Sir? Were you on the telly last night?” “Yes.” “Are we on the telly now, sir?”

Someone asked a good question - what would Lister’s Paranoia be like now 33 years later? Lee would be willing to reprise the role but isn’t sure it would work as the original had a childish quality whereas he feels now the character would be a lot darker and less funny. Lee was both thoughtful and entertaining in his responses.

He was followed onstage by Hattie and Norman, who resolutely refused to rise to the bait of an audience member attempting to stir up a rivalry between them. That only works when one isn’t the nicest person you could meet.

A tactless audience member asked both if they’d watched “TPL” instead of directing the question at Norman. Luckily Hattie had seen it and particularly enjoyed the cat flap joke although she felt there was a little too much focus on the guest cast.

Norman didn’t really watch RD after he left but Hattie has seen Norman’s early episodes as he lent them to her back when she was originally cast as Hilly for research purposes. Bear in mind this was 1988 when they weren’t even available on VHS so presumably he recorded them off the TV.

Hattie confirmed with a sigh that she’s simply never been asked to return in any capacity: “That’s the short answer.” What the hell, I’ll say it one more time - Bring Back Hattie! One episode, that’s all I ask. As it stands, it’s starting to look like a pointed and deliberate snub which mystifies me.

We then broke for lunch, followed by Rob Grant and Paul Jackson. For obvious reasons they didn’t go into the current legal mess, opting instead to entertain the fans with the story of how they met and their early pre-RD work (Rob and Doug as freelance writers for Paul’s producer).

We saw some clips from their early shows including “Three Of A Kind” with Lenny Henry, Tracy Ullman and … later magician David Copperfield; apparently they all had the same agent and Paul took on David as a favour. For a 40 year old show it held up pretty well and was in much better sound and picture quality than older shows often are. “Carrott’s Lib” was just as funny.

It’s a bit hard to summarise but this session was entertaining and gripping. Rob still wants to write another RD novel and I believe there’s nothing actually stopping him as both he and Doug had an option to write a second solo novel. So we’ll see.

The final Q&A was Matthew Clark who was very informative and interesting, showing us numerous production stills from Series XII and “TPL” and talking us through them. There was a groan when time was called before he was finished.

By now time was running short and Amy and I went back to the room to pack and leave our luggage with reception before watching the start of “Dibbley Family Fortunes”. Since I knew I wouldn’t have time to watch it all, I instead nipped upstairs to Autographs with Lee and Ian, timing it perfectly as the queue had almost vanished.

Ian was still performing, drawing scornful attention to the fact that Lee had a longer queue: “Can you imagine all these people queueing to see Lee Cornes?!” It sounds rude out of context but he was clearly joking.

I decided to ask Lee what flavour the yogurt Paranoia eats was. He said it didn’t really taste of anything as it was the cheapest, nastiest canteen yogurt available and was also starting to curdle under the studio lights so eating it can’t have been much fun.

Since I now had about 15 minutes before I had to go, I caught a bit of Dibbley Family Fortunes, said goodbye to Amy, Lapsang and Barbs and then dashed off to catch the tram to the train station. Another great DJ.

#red dwarf

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superlinguo · 4 years

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Practical advice if you want to start a podcast

I wrote a post for the RED team at La Trobe with some general advice for podcasting, but I’ve found there are some recurring questions that I get about setting up a podcast. This post is here to answer those questions.

If you’re not interested in starting a podcast, but want to listen to more linguistics podcasts, I’ve got a list for you!

I last updated this post in June 2021 - if you find this post a few years after this you might want to search for some more up to date specs. I’ll continue to update this from time to time as new questions (or answers) come up.

Picture your audience

Before you make any decisions about your show, know who it is for. Your topic might be incredibly niche and have an audience in the hundreds, which is very different to a potentially larger but less engaged audience. See the classic blog post from Kevin Kelly on the power of 1000 true fans. Knowing your potential audience, where they hang out online, and how they’re likely to support you, will help your decision making. I have a self-guided slide set for refining your project before you start working on it. It’s also ok to know who you don’t want as your audience, and make choices that don’t actively include them. Do this early and clearly so people aren’t disappointed. For example, having a show with clearly noted explicit language selects away from young kids and their parents.

The length and format of your show are a product of your aims

I personally like shows in the 25-35 minute range. But, having said that, I love Shortwave, which regularly clocks in at 10 minutes, and I’m disappointed when an episode of You’re Wrong About is less than an hour.

Know your audience and the level of depth you want to explore a topic in. The frequency of episodes and the amount of time you have to prepare and edit will also affect how long episode end up. Record a few episodes first and share them with people you trust will give you good feedback.

The best interviews are conversations

Good interviews are just conversations that are intentionally lopsided, and good interviewers make the conversation feel like it’s not lopsided. Do your homework, write out some questions, and then take a step back and actually listen to the person you’re interviewing.

Anyone who has done even a few interviews has already faced most of the questions you first think of. There are some fixes for this: push through your initial brainstorming, think about the specific angles on their topic that are most relevant to your audience and (again) listen to what the person is telling you. Like many podcasting skills, good interviewing takes practice, and you can practice by staying curious about humans you interact with in any area of your life, not just your podcast guests.

Use the best mics you can, but don’t over-invest

You don’t have go and buy the fanciest tech. If you have access to a studio, great! If you don’t, then decide what your budget is. When we started Lingthusiasm, Gretchen recorded into her phone, because we were running the show on no budget and had no idea if we’d stick it out more than 6 months. When we started making money we got Gretchen a Zoom H4n to match mine. It’s still not the fanciest, but it’s rugged and adequate, especially if you make sure you’re in a closet with some blankets. Do I regret the earlier episodes of Lingthusiasm don’t sound amazing? Not as much as I would have regretted investing hundreds of dollars in a podcast that had 4 episodes.

Edit your show

Even a light edit will make the show easier for your audience to listen to, and show respect for the people you interview. I know people believe there’s an aesthetic of authenticity that comes with not editing, but all podcasting is a performance. Editing is a politeness to your audience.

Editing means a very wide range of things. You can do full production editing, including the addition of music, multiple different voice-overs and voices reading parts (e.g. getting someone else to read author quotes to bring them to life) and additional sound effects. Or you might just edit out the start and end of the recording, and any false starts and errors throughout the show. A lot of the pauses and fillers we use in conversation are designed for an audience who is in on the conversation and can reply, and can feel like they’re holding up a conversation when you’re a passive listener like a podcast audience. Many of the best conversational podcasts are given an edit to make them easier on the ears.

I use audacity to edit

Audacity is free to use. It takes a little longer to learn than something like GarageBand, but once you know how to use it, you’ll be much faster at editing. I appreciate that it has stayed pretty much the same since I started using it almost 15 years ago.

Get your levels right

Once you’ve edited your show, making sure there aren’t too many loud laughs, or your two hosts aren’t unbalanced in loudness. You’ll also need to make sure your podcast isn’t too loud or soft compared to others in people’s list. You need to regularise it. A lot of podcasts regularise to -16 LUFS. A few other numbers bounce around (-14, -18), but this is what we use and no one complains. Audacity can’t do it. You can process a certain number of hours of audio for free each month using the web-based Auphonic. It’s great.

There’s lots of great free music to use

You want to look for music that has a license that’s free to use. Even if you don’t plan to make money from your podcast, make sure the license includes commercial use so you don’t limit your future options. SoundCloud and YouTube have lots of options, as does Kevin MacLeod - who has created royalty-free music in a massive range of genres.

Web hosting is different to getting your show on iTunes

We use SoundCloud to upload and share our audio. It’s fine. I have no complaints. Once you’ve uploaded a few hours of audio you’ll have to pay annually for a pro account. Anchor seems to be a good new competitor, it’s free - I assume they make money off people choosing to run ads on their podcasts. You then generate an RSS feed, which is the thing that points all the podcast players to the place you’ve uploaded your recording. You’ll then have to add your show to major podcast platforms (Apple Podcast, Google Podcast), smaller ones will pick it up from there.

It takes a few days for your show to get picked up on all the podfeeders

Launching a podcast is a bit of a mess - it will go live on your hosting site but then you’ll have to set yourself up with iTunes, Google Podcast etc. and that can take a few days to update and populate. The sites that are popular, and the process of linking into those spaces, changes often enough that you should just google advice when you’re ready to launch, and give yourself a few days. This is part of why some podcasts launch a short ‘episode 0′ or a trailer, it gets the show set up.

Transcripts should be one of the first things you fund

Not every podcast has the time or funds to make transcripts. I do think they’re important though; for people who can’t or don’t want to listen, for discoverability and for your own record when you can’t remember when you talked about a specific story. If you have any time or money and want to be taken seriously at all, this should be one of your earliest priorities. This is even more true for educational podcasts, where a transcript ensures all students can appreciate the content of your show.

You don’t neeeeed a website, but it’s handy

You can run a show using a hosting platform and some social media. Having a website does allow you to add more information about the show and yourself. The Lingthusiasm page has grown over the years as the show has; we made a page for our liveshow events, we provide a list of episodes by topic, information about our Discord community, and our marvelous wall of supporters. The website was much more minimal when we started, but compared to just having a SoundCloud it gave the show room to grow.

You probably want socials, but be selective

You need to make your podcast discoverable by people who are likely to be your audience. Social media is one way to do this, but it’s better to be actually engaging on fewer social platforms than overextend yourself. Focus on platforms that are the intersection of where your possible fans are likely to be and where you enjoy being.

Funding a podcast takes time, and takes work

There are three main revenue streams for podcasts: advertising, crowdfunding and merch. A fourth option is institutional support (through your university or business), but then you’re beholden to the funder. Whichever revenue options work for you, think about them and plan towards them early. Part of that is making sure your podcast gets in as many ears as possible. Most successful podcasts spend as much, if not more, time on marketing, audience engagement and business planning as they do podcasting (it’s just not very glamorous to admit that!).

Choose whether each episode can stand alone

Some podcasts build a narrative over multiple episodes. Others allow listeners to jump in at any point and listen in any order. Whatever you choose, make this clear to your audience. This choice is going to influence a range of choices around what information to include in the opening and closing, how topical to make the show, and how you promote your podcast.

Seasons are a great structure to keep a podcast manageable

Regardless of whether your show runs in a sequence, planning a season with a fixed number of episodes allows you to take some time off, to maybe change some things that weren’t working, or to step away from the project with a podcast that hasn’t been left hanging.

#podcast #podcasting #podcasts

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