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#in love with your own fic

faithiegirl01 · 2 years

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Faithie’s Writer Rants Corner:

DUDE!!!

So I am currently working on Lightsabers and Guitars Pt. 2 (you can read part one here) and even as the writer I’m like:

And like:

Like this Fic is both a Koa and Charlie love fic and I’m so for it. Like it’s just so cute and makes you go though so many emotions and just uggh.

Like there’s so many sweet baby Koa moments and I am absolutely LIVING for it. Not to mention I feel absolutely devious 😈 yet at the same time so utterly (😂 Nat…) in love with it as I am writing it. I just can’t guys. Just you wait all of you will be sobbing 😭 like:

At some points. Like I don’t wanna give anything away, but Cam gets brought up and Charlie has a moment… and it may or may not have to do with Perfect Harmony as well 😏

But that’s all I’ll say.

Also the Koa moments!!! I just can’t uggh.

Sometimes it’s wonderful to be a writer…

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tadfools · 4 months

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You guys are commenting on the fics you read right? You’re at least leaving kudos on the Astarion smut and the pairs that have less than 20 fics for them too? You’re bookmarking stories you really like that are still being updated and ones that haven’t been touched in over a year right?

You know that even the smallest interactions are like cocaine to fic writers right? You understand how important a string of emoji hearts left behind on chapter at three am is right?? Right????

You’re treating AO3 like a community and not a content factory….right?

#this isnt bg3 specific btw im seeing a lot of fandoms rotting cause of this #ao3 #archive of our own #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 #PLEASE YOU GUYS INTERACT WITH THE THINGS YOU READ #you’re not being weird or annoying!!! it doesn’t matter how old the fic is!!!#you can just say ‘I love this’ or ‘it’s three am and I haven’t slept yet cause I was reading this’#you can copy and paste a paragraph you like and add ‘!!!!!!’ after it #theories in the comments! mention when you think you’ve found foreshadowing!!!#if there’s a part where you have to physically put your phone down and smile off into the distantce? TELL THE AUTHOR #you can leave comments every chapter too!!! ITS NOT ANNOYING

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tinynerdycthulu · 3 months

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tbh i dunno why so many sj apologists are anti-yqy. because like????? he is your mascot. he was the originator. the head honcho of excusing sj's levels of unmitigated villainy. look into my eyes and tell me that qi ge wouldn't blush and kick his feet if he saw xiao jiu commit murder. actually we don't NEED to imagine bc jiumei did just that and yue qi just grabbed his hand and ran, no thoughts head empty. arson? child abuse?? yue qi doesn't care. whatever makes xiao jiu happy <3

#qijiu #shen jiu #og!shen qingqiu #yue qingyuan #inspired by pro-sj anti-yqy fics on ao3 where yqy is just...so OOC #stop bullying yqy agenda 2024 #mtxt hates him enough he doesnt get a happy ending in pidw or svsss #bc living the rest of your live believing that the person most important to you and whom you love most is happy without you is #EXTREMELY tragic on its own but i think yqy could at least find satisfaction knowing his xiao jiu is happy #but he's not. it's an imposter and he'll never know #anyway yeah!!! sj might bite but yqy doesn't care because xiao jiu is xiao jiu.#svsss #mtxt

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idk-bruh-20 · 9 months

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Irondad fic ideas #151

There is a LOT of Iron Man merch out there. One day, Stark Industries comes out with a line of Iron Man themed night lights that look like arc reactors. The marketing? "For kids who are scared of the dark: Iron Man will protect you."

In completely unrelated news, a whole bunch of child abusers across the country have recently been arrested as a result of anonymous tips to local authorities.

Bonus:

It's an open secret at some point. Teens who are being abused start buying the night lights. Hell, adults start buying them. Charities pop up to cover the cost for anyone who needs it. Kids who are newly safe often send their night lights on to others ("I'm not scared of the dark anymore," they say).

Even with all of this, nobody snitches to the media or government. They all know grown-ups tend to complicate and ruin precious things.

It helps that the night lights clearly can distinguish between different types of situations. Kids whose parents need mental health or addiction support suddenly find they're being contacted by free services that actually help. If ICE is a concern, the people knocking on the door are not cops but immigrant rights activists. Kids who are hungry get food. Families who need housing support coincidentally find it.

"Iron Man will protect you," indeed.

This fic idea was inspired by this post from @fotibrit!!

#tony: see kid I can be a vigilante too #tony: just your friendly neighborhood iron man :)#peter: and I'm very proud of you but did u have to go THAT HARD OMFG #tony: gotta look out for the little guy :)#peter: ACROSS THE ENTIRE WORLD?!#irondad fic ideas #irondad and spiderson #just to be clear peter loves the night light idea and obvs loves the results lol #it's just tony did kinda one-up him at his own game just a Little bit #tony 'dramatic and excessive' stark #tony stark #peter parker #iron man #iron dad and spider son #abusers get rekt #queueueueue #weekly reminder that i love you all but am too busy to be human :)#fic ideas still postponed but you can send asks if you want i just won't see them for a while #see announcements

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faeriekit · 13 days

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Ghosts of Those We Once Knew

a phic phight fill for @silverwing013

Warnings for: implied child abuse, accidental death, dead parents

**💚**

“Oh yeah?! And what are you going to do about it?!” Aunt Alicia snapped into the phone.

There was a sound on the other end of the line, but Danny couldn’t make it out all the way. There was another solution, but it was…risky; it would require going into his aunt’s bedroom— a well known, forbidden domain— to pick up the only other phone hooked up to the landline.

…There was no other time to find out what Aunt Alicia was putting off. It had to be worth the risk. Danny crept up the worn carpeting of the stairs, hoping that his sneakiness would hold up to Alicia’s discerning eyes and ears.

Her bedroom was dark. Carpeted. …Pink.

Whatever. Danny took a deep breath, lifted the phone off the hook, and tried not to breathe too loudly into the mouthpiece.

“You have no right to keep Daniel in your dismal, miserable, isolated hovel,” someone shouted on the other end. Danny had never heard this voice before. He sounded like someone around Dad’s age, maybe? Maybe a little…smoother, despite the blistering anger coming through the line. “You live with no human contact for nine months out of the year. You speak to no one. Do you— is Daniel even enrolled in a school? Did you get any sort of educational provisions for him whatsoever?”

“What, so he can get cocky and blow himself up in the garage like his parents?” Alicia snapped. Danny had to clap a hand to his mouth to hide his gasp of dismay.

“You know full well that punishing your sister’s son by restricting his access to an education and basic human companionship is not a solution to your grief for your sister. You are out of your mind.”

Aunt Alicia’s voice got low. Aunt Alicia’s voice got mean. She sounded like how she looked when Danny had fumbled the water pail from the well or stepped two steps too close to the rhubarb patch out back. “Vladmir Masters, you listen here,” Aunt Alicia muttered. “That boy is everything left of my sister in the whole damn world. He is not going anywhere. Do you understand? Not for you to fill his head with her stupid husband’s supernatural hoo-ha, and not for you to snatch up and teach himself how to kill other people the way those two killed each other. Danny stays here. If you ring me up one more time, I’m going to do more than just mail dog crap to the front step of your stupid castle in Wisconsin.”

The phone cut off. It would be an innocuous end to a phone call, except Danny can hear the clatter of plastic cracking on plastic in the downstairs kitchen.

There was a moment of silence.

“Daniel Jackson Fenton, you get your butt in here right now!”

Danny jolted, heart pounding. He—he went downstairs.

Aunt’s Alicia’s lips were pursed, her eyes tight. “What did I tell you about missing all the sticks in the yard? It looks like a wreck!”

Danny felt his breath stick in his throat.

“Well?”

“Yes, Aunt Alicia,” Danny mumbled. He looked down and away. He wasn’t caught out eavesdropping, but…was this any better?

“If those sticks aren’t piled up beside the woodshed for kindling in half an hour, you can kiss your dinner goodbye.”

Danny hadn’t had dinner in three nights. He was very lucky he didn’t need to eat as much as living kids. “…Yes, Aunt Alicia.”

“So?”

…Danny went outside to collect sticks. It took until nightfall to get all the refuse from yesterday’s storm off the ground.

Aunt Alicia ate canned corn and carrots and butchered rabbit with hot sauce for dinner. Danny ate nothing.

Danny went to bed thinking about somewhere else he could go. Mom and Dad were dead—smithereens in the blast that had killed him and brought him back to life simultaneously. Jazz was in the hospital. He had no grandparents. He had no other aunts or uncles other than Aunt Alicia.

…Who was Vladmir Masters?

It took two days for Danny to decide to run away.

Or. Well. Fly.

He’d figured that if he wanted to find out who Vladmir Masters was, he’d need an internet connection. His cell had been on the Fenton Fone Plan™ and had been disconnected from the Fenton Family Patented Ghost-free Satellite™ for almost three months now. But, you know…what was a public library for, if not getting information?

The two-day waiting period was mostly just Danny getting his stuff together, making sure he didn’t leave anything behind, finding anything worth stealing…

…There was a picture of Mom with her big hair at graduation, a black robe thrown over her Hazmat suit. Her hair had been so big. Lots of people were beside her, including Dad, and someone with a matching hair stripe. They looked happy.

It didn’t matter that it had been Aunt Alicia’s photo. The picture had gone into his backpack next to Bearbert Einstein and a filched pocket knife.

Mom was Aunt Alicia’s sister, but Madeline Fenton had been his mom.

…Was still his mom.

Would…would always be his mom.

Danny wouldn’t cry. He wasn’t going to cry. Still, the flying and everything was still new to him. It took almost ten minutes to get himself off the ground without floating off willy nilly.

It took another half an hour to remember how to go through walls.

By the time Danny fell (as in actually, literally, leaned up against the wall and then realized he’d not made contact the way he’d expected to) through the house wall, it was almost eight at night. Aunt Alicia was still listening to Prairie Home Companion downstairs on the radio.

Whatever. He was out of there. He was sure he looked crazy—his hair was white, which was almost impossible to hide—but all he had to do was get out of there fast enough that no one connected one teenage runaway with a backpack to Danny Fenton.

It was fine.

It was all going to be fine.

…And if there wasn’t someone who’d help him. Well. Being homeless didn’t sound…so bad…?

…Or maybe he’d just squat in the burnt out ruins of Fentonworks. That sounded fine too.

Morning broke. Danny ended up in a tiny town somewhere in Mississippi.

A nice guy at the coffee shop gave him a cup of water and told him where the local library was. A librarian plugged her login details for him on a public computer, and Danny was able to look up one “Vladmir Masters”…

…CEO and owner of DALVco, millionaire, and Green Bay Packers megafan.

Holy crap.

Like… There were hospital wings with his name on them. Charities operating out of his company. Every picture of the man was perfectly taken in perfect lighting with perfect suits and precise smirks and bright-white magazine article paper.

Danny went back up to the librarian. “Do you have any articles on…uh…Vlad Masters?”

The librarian smiled warmly. “Ah, school project?”

“Sure,” Danny lied, milk on his tongue.

Vlad Masters was a self-made millionaire. He lived in a castle in Wisconsin that used to be owned by a dairy empire kingpin. He went to—

Danny read the line again

—He went to the same college as Mom and Dad. The year looked right, too. They might have even graduated in the exact same year. If only Danny could still check Dad’s college ring in the bottom of their junk drawer.

Wisconsin. Vlad Masters lived in Wisconsin.

…Danny was really lucky he was never all that hungry anymore.

Danny got another cup of water at the coffee shop, washed his face in the bathroom, and got ready to fly another night.

He was no sextant, but he could probably figure out how to get to Wisconsin after a couple of hours of flying, and a little time to gauge the sky.

It would be easy.

…Danny’s white-topped, pale face stared back at him from the restroom mirror.

It had to be. It would have to be easy.

So, a cheese castle looked a lot like a regular castle.

Danny squinted up at the stonework. Nah, that looked like…a castle. That being said, it looked more specifically like the castle he was looking for—the one that had been featured in Vlad Masters’s house tour in Architecture Daily magazine two years ago.

Same…roof bits. Same big door. Danny swallowed. Same…tower? Were there better words for these? There were definitely better words for all the tricky stone bits in the castle.

Whatever. Danny was praying that the man was actually home today, as opposed to flying across the country on some kind of business trip. Rich people did business trips, right?

Danny floated up to the front door. There was no doorbell.

…Danny bit his lip. Okay. So there was no doorbell. There was a very large, brass door knocker. It looked kind of like a big monster face, with a ring held in its teeth.

The knocker was just high enough off the ground that Danny had to float to get there. Lifting it was a struggle.

When it knocked, the whole door buzzed with sound.

Danny waited.

…He waited.

And…Danny waited.

No one came.

Danny picked at the skin of his lip. What if he just…went in?

Like. It was a big house. Maybe Vlad Masters just hadn’t heard him at all? Maybe he was just…in the basement or something…?

Danny paced midair. On one hand. He’d come all this way. He had to follow through. He had to see if there was…something. Anything. Anything at all—anything that could possibly connect Masters to his family.

Any connection that wasn’t Aunt Alicia would be worth breaking and entering.

On the other hand. Home invasion was and would remain illegal.

Danny grimaced.

He…stuck his head through the door.

There was a hallway on the other side. A little end table. A guest book.

…Okay. Danny slipped through the door. He was breaking and entering now— or at least…entering.

Inside was dark. Gloomy. Comfortable, sure— lots of soft furnishings, curtains, couches, pillow, lounging things— but very…opaque in atmosphere.

He was glowing, he noticed. That probably was pretty bad on the “trying not to get caught” scale.

There was no one upstairs. Danny drifted through room after empty room and up into floor after empty floor. There was a kitchen, and the food therein were largely preserved items. There was nothing in the fridge.

Danny’s stomach cramped. There was no one here.

…Maybe he should look downstairs?

The castle got colder the further down he went. The windows that at least allowed the minimal light that escaped through the tree cover in the castle vanished. The only light left was Danny.

Danny floated down deeper.

There were doors made of metal in a long, stone hallway. Each had different numbers on them. Danny followed the rows of doors.

There were wires on the floor. They were organized by color and bound by little ties, until they weren’t, and Danny eventually ran out of tangled webs of red and blue plastic to follow.

They ended at a closed door.

Danny hesitated. He poked his head through.

On the other side was a ghost.

Danny jerked back. He’d— he clapped his hand over his mouth. That was—! And sure, Danny was something like that now, but he’d never seen—!

He should leave. Danny should leave.

Danny barely made it three doors down.

Going somewhere? something asked him. Danny shivered.

The ghost appeared on his left in ethereal white, black hair pulled behind him in some sort of half-halo. Unlike Danny, who was in something like half-hazmat, half-hoodie, the ghost wore a long, glowing labcoat, appropriate PPE beneath.

Danny’s breath fogged up in his mouth. He flinched. “Sorr—” he tried. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not supposed to be here.”

The ghost looked at him with bright red eyes. Danny floated a few steps back. Spying, are you?

Danny shook his head. “No!! No, I just— I was looking for— I wasn’t spying! I’m sorry! I didn’t know you li— died here! I’ll leave!”

The ghost’s head tilted. For a second, Danny thought that he was going to throw a punch. And then—

You’re already here, the ghost pointed out, and opened a door. Beyond it was…something similar to a doctor’s office. An examination table with the paper on it. One of those blood pressure cuffs, attached to a printer for the readout. A sink. Sundry tongue depressors. You may as well consent to be helped.

“...Helped with what?” Danny asked nervously, fingers flexing. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

The ghost hummed— not in the way voices hummed, but in the way high voltage sang in distant powerlines. You are newly formed, aren’t you? Most can tell a ghost’s nature from its presence alone.

Danny looked away. “Um. You know. You might be the first ghost I’ve ever met.”

The ghost’s feet almost touched the ground. It stared down at him. It was taller than he was, and when it stared, it made Danny want to run away.

…Truly, the ghost asked(?), and it took Danny a second to realize it was a question.

“Maybe I died a little recently…” Danny tried, trailing off into a mumble. Was there a right answer to this?

…I see. That would make this check-up more urgent, then. Might I encourage you to come this way?

Danny followed him into the room.

It felt… It looked and felt exactly like any other doctor’s appointment, excepting that the doctor involved in the process had blue skin and fangs and a hairstyle that defied gravity. The ghost still wore gloves and didn’t poke him or prod him too hard, though, so that was a bonus.

Danny got his pulse taken. (None.) Danny got his lungs checked. (Not breathing.) Danny got his resonance? looked at? Whatever that was? It was a big scanny thing that looked like an X ray and took pictures of his chest.

The readings were real pretty, whatever they were; the whole film print was taken up with splotches of white and clear blue. It kind of shimmered when Danny tilted his head.

You’re quite powerful for a newly formed ghost, the ghost offered, overlooking papers Danny couldn’t quite see on his clipboard. It flipped through once. Twice. You’re clearly not attached to your place of death, so that’s not why… Are you aware of any compulsions to follow an Obsession yet…?

A ghostly obsession? Danny knew what that was— it was one of his parents’ theories on why ghosts persisted after death! Was it was true?

“Um,” Danny said, unsure. He hadn’t…had he? “Not that I know of?”

The ghost paused. It clicked its pen. It marked something down on Danny’s chart. Interesting.

Ominous.

May I quickly test something? the ghost asked, looking up at Danny. It would only take a moment. If it does not work, there will be no other side effects other than mild discomfort and an activated flight response.

Danny shifted. The paper crackled underneath him. “...Does it hurt?”

No.

The ghost added nothing more.

Danny’s…head jerked up and down. It was fine. It would be fine.

The ghost’s hand circled his wrist. Its touch burned like fire.

And then light, like how Danny burned away one form for another—

—Danny was left on the table, no longer weightless, no longer breathless. He was flesh. He was human again.

Vlad Masters stared back at him.

…Huh.

Mr. Masters— Vlad?— licked dry lips, staring at Danny, whose wrist he still held. Danny…didn’t know if he could move. Danny didn’t know if he knew how to move.

“...Daniel?” Mr. Masters’s voice cracked. His eyes moved up and down Danny’s body, from his raggedy hair to his dirt-stained clothes to his beat-up shoes. “Daniel Fenton?”

Danny winced. “It’s just Danny,” he offered hoarsely. His throat bobbed. “You…know me?”

Mr. Masters moved his grip to Danny’s hand, apparently moved to tears. Without the red in his eyes, he just looked…human enough. “Daniel— Danny, how did you— Are you dead? What happened?”

Danny felt the weight of everything push down on him again, as if it had ever let up on him since the portal incident. Mom and Dad’s funerals. Jazz in the emergency room. Being resuscitated by the EMTs. Getting shipped out to Aunt Alicia’s house without warning.

“House blew up.”

That was succinct enough, right?

The man’s face turned devastated. “I heard— I’m so, so sorry. I’m so sorry, Danny.”

…It was more concern than anyone had shown in a long time. His eyes were wet before he knew it. When he wiped his face with his sleeve, the dampness was enough to leave little streaks of mud on his face— and, ugh, he felt filthy.

“It’s okay,” Danny lied, because it wasn’t. He pressed his sleeve to his eyes. “It’s…you know my parents?”

Mr. Masters took a deep, surprised breath. “Yes. We…weren’t in contact after we graduated from school together, but Jack always… He asked me by email to be your godfather, right before you were born. I said yes, but I have no idea if he ever filed the paperwork.”

Oh.

…Oh.

There were clearly more secrets here. Mr. Masters was a ghost, and so was Danny. He lived in a giant castle that was clearly haunted, which was made obvious by the owner. He was Danny’s godfather, and Danny had never once met him.

And he wasn’t Aunt Alicia.

Danny sucked the spit off of his teeth with his tongue. “Can I stay here?”

Mr. Masters made a wounded, desperate expression. “I would rather you did.”

“Can you teach me how to be a ghost?”

The man persevered through what were clearly heavy feelings. “...If I must.”

“Can I have dinner?” was Danny’s final question. “Like. On the regular?”

There was a second where Mr. Masters’s eyes went red. The castle suddenly felt taut with anticipation. Fury crawled on Danny’s skin. He could feel the pressure digging in search of some way to burrow into his flesh.

And then it was gone.

“Of course you can. You are a growing boy.”

Danny smiled shyly, barely showing his teeth. When he smiled for real in the mirror, he had fangs. It was better not to. “Cool.”

Mr. Masters nodded. And when Danny looked down at the floor, he changed his grip so that Danny could hold his hand and hop down like normal.

“It will be alright,” Mr. Masters promised quietly. It seemed to be just as much for him as it was for Danny. “Or…I’ll take care of it. Whatever happens. You’re not alone, Danny.”

Danny had been alone for almost half a year. It had felt like forever. “Thanks.” He sniffed.

They walked upstairs from the basement laboratory together, in a way Mom and Dad never would again.

#phic phight 2024 #danny phantom #vlad masters #I forget Alicia's last name ngl #dead fenton parents #Jazz is sir not appearing in this film #danny fenton #good!Vlad au #phic phight #RIP a prarie home companion you were a cool show but your host was [REDACTED] of course you were gonna get cancelled #my and my persistent love of landlines #faer fic #I do not LIKE vlad. However. This intrigued me.#dead ghost man who furthers the study of ghosts while knowing his college besties might take advantage of him for their own research. whack #anyway. the portal blew up #phic phight 24

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nelkcats · 1 year

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The Banshee, a JL mystery

A foreign case was being discussed by the Justice League, in general it was not bad, just rare.

It began a couple of months ago, a tourist had come to Star City, but he did not visit the city, he did not even register, he just pop out of nowhere, went to the cemetery, and apparently the cameras recorded him placing flowers in all the tombs and talking with the air or with some of the people engraved in the stones, they were not sure of it.

The strange thing was that the cameras around him were always corrupted, they needed the JLD to even stabilize the image, and ¿was that not worrying? They assumed that something supernatural was following him, the boy looked strictly human, but even the trackers that they tried to put were damaged around him.

Unfortunate for the entire league, although they had the guy features, the image was not clear enough for facial recognition.

The corrupted sound of the camaras sounded like a wail, or a cry, Constantine commented it remembered him to a banshee, so they started to call him "The Banshee" even if Zatanna told them Banshee were strictly women, it stayed.

The wave of visits continued, the boy went through Central City, Metropolis, Washington, Gotham, but it was later where something relevant happened again.

Jason was visiting his own grave when he noticed the boy, he tells, he cared because the young man seemed disconsolate looking at the graves, even yearning if that had some sense.

"Did you know him?" It may be the case of B, but it still had him intrigued. Also, the guy was looking at his grave, he felt like he have the right to ask.

"No, but you could say I already did" the boy sighed, stroking the stone of the tomb "I would also like it-..." Danny stopped, he should not be telling his problems to the owner of the tomb "Ah, no matter, it's good to know he was loved"

Jelousy, the reason why Danny visited the cemeteries was to calm himself, surrounded by what he wants but can not occur, to cry as no one cried for him, Clockwork always said that a part of him died at the moment nobody pay attention to his death, and ¿wasn't that funny?

"¿How do you know?" If someone asked Jason, he would affirm that it was uncomfortable to talk about himself as if he was still dead, but he couldn't do anything about it now.

"Well, he's buried and has a proper resting place, they keep bringing him flowers even though the inside of his grave is empty, you can see the recently removed earth; Many of the dead don't have that luxury, their bodies left somewhere, the missing people were never given a proper burial, I don't know man, ghosts can't build their own graves ¿you know?" He was probably ranting and he knew it, but Danny was tired, he wanted that too, and it was such a stupid rule not to be able to give himself his own resting place, but he wasn't going to burden Jazz, Sam, or Tucker with giving him a funeral.

It was the reason he did this, why he visited cemeteries, laid flowers and talked to the resident ghosts, he wanted to know the feeling, wanted to know what he had lost, wanted to be mourned too.

"Anyway, nice to meet you Nosaj Ddot, be a little grateful for what you have, ¿okay? I know some who would kill for it" he smiled ruefully, starting to pick up his basket of flowers, he had already made his rounds anyway. It was probably time to go back to Amity Park.

"¿Nosaj? What are you talking about-" but the boy was already gone, disappeared into thin air, his communications re-established at the same moment that he noticed his damaged tracker right next to the grave, a short circuit.

"The banshee ¿uh?, he sure is an interesting guy, maybe the League is really onto something this time."

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starrspice · 8 months

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If they HAD somehow managed to find Bonnie in his busted up state and repair him, long after Monty took over the bass

I don't really think it'd be a fight for who is gonna be the bass player now

I imagine one of 3 scenarios happening

1. Bonnie sees how well Monty is doing on base and how much the kids love him and decides its a perfect chance for him to just take it easy only running the bowling alley after everything he's been through

2. Monty doesn't really WANT to be the bass player and is more than happy to go back to merely running gator golf (hence him canonically in game ditching shows to stalk the catwalks above gator golf)

3. The most fun but unlikely option, Monty is already far more popular of a bass player than Bonnie was so management won't put Bonnie back on bass but Bonnie Misses the music and preforming. So what's the perfect compromise? Bonnie now plays drums. Afterall he IS a rabbit and rabbit's are known for stamping their big bunny feet. They could rig him up with an upgrade that helps him hit the bass pedal on a drum set and it'd work out thematically. Bonnie gets to jam with the band and preform, monty keeps playing bass and the WHOLE band is all together again

This has been rotting my brain since the dlc came out so I just HAD to throw it out there

#glamrock Bonnie #fnaf bonnie #glam bonnie #fnaf sb #fnaf secruity breach #security breach #security breach ruin #ruin dlc #ruin spoilers #fnaf ruin #fnaf security breach #montgomery gator #monty gator #fnaf monty #idk just a thought #pls feel free to steal this for your own art and fics #i love this so much

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fandomregression · 1 year

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Possible New AO3 Tags!!

So, I think we all know that the ao3 tag situation is...not ideal. You have basically two choices for tags: Age Regression/De-aging (which is technically meant for physically regressed/de-aged characters, not agere) or Non-sexual Age Play (which is...the wrong thing). Both of these tags are inaccurate for our community, but we have used them because its as close as we can get. It's even gotten to the point where Age Regression/De-aging has wrangled everything under the sun for agere (agere, age regression, regression, and every tag we make complaining about our tag situation). So! I have two possibilities for new tags we can use!

🧸Inner Child Therapy🧸

this one is probably the most obvious choice? at least it is to me lol inner child therapy is another, more clinical name for agere, so it would be a good choice. it's also not currently used for anything on ao3 (Healing the Inner Child is a tag, but not currently one with more than i think 3 fics, and it's not a common tag, so it would more than likely get wrangled, but I think it'd be okay)

with this one, we would also have the option to use secondary tags like we use with Age Regression/De-aging currently (think how a lot of fics use "Age Regression Little [Character]" tags, we could use something like "Inner Child Little [Character]" instead)

i think inner child therapy as a term would also help with the stigma around agere because it really...can't be confused with anything else? not as far as i can make out anyway lol

a con toward this would be that not many ppl currently know this as a term, and therefore it would be hard to implement

🖍Crayonfic🖍

i just think this one is cute. like we're all just out here writing our fics in crayon to share with each other hehe

in my head, this would even be able to include a whole tagging system using diff crayon colors to mean different things (when i was thinking of this concept, i was thinking along the lines of pink crayon = fluff, blue = angst, green = whump, purple = romantic, orange = platonic, white = diapers, etc etc etc etc)

it just so cute in my head lol, and it would definitely be easy to separate from the current tags

a con toward this one is just that it could be confusing to try to implement and i could see it getting wildly out of hand and complicated if we aren't careful with it

No matter what, it will absolutely be a struggle to change tags to get away from what we have right now. In order for any sort of new tag, one of these or something else, to work we would all have to agree not to crosstag. When tagging fics, you would *not* be able to tag it with the old tags and one of the new ones because it would more than likely result in the new tag getting wrangled and then we're back to square one. It would have to be a community effort to get it explained *why* things are different, now, and how to find fics. It would also be a struggle to get authors of older works to maybe switch their tags out so that new readers can find them more easily under a new tag.

These are just my ideas, and I'd love to open the discussion up to you guys!! If there's any other ideas for tags, I'd love to hear them!!!

#fandom agere #age regression #sfw agere #scooby shush #these are just my ideas!!#let's discuss!!!#i might make it a poll if enough people are interested so feel free to suggest your own ideas if you have them!!!#we could 100% put in our summaries that the fic is agere but we could not put in the tags because of wrangling if you know what i mean #i'd love it if we could just get age regression and de-aging separated but that would probably be impossible

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gophergal · 5 months

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Honestly one of my favorite ship dynamics that I never see folks talk about is where they're just... Orbiting each other like satellites. A deep closeness, but not quite something explicitly romantic. Everyone around them has conflicting opinions on their relationship, but they never label it. Heartfelt declarations of trust, love, and friendship are non negotiable

#gopher rambles #ship dynamics #so many ships fit this imo #superbat #k/s #or if you'd rather call it #spirk #and i personally see #subscorp #that way. feel free to talk about your own faves like this #because its great. it always makes me feel so good. theres something about that deep affection and fondness #that trumps any regular 'falling in love' fics. more than friends but not in a romance centric way #they're best friends your honor. they are of one soul your honor. their love is deeper and more complex than you could understand your honor

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