#good ideas fandom

[character-of-all-time]

ROUND 2: DEMON CORE (hubris) VS THE PATHER ON THE OLD SPICE NIGHTPANTHER DEODERANT (vanity)

[biblically-accurate-dca]

♡ happy valentine's! ♡

( og image under the cut! )

[civetside]

the doodles i doodled while i listened to the nona audio book babay! (plus my favorite pyrrha dve quotes)

[kettlefire]

It's not you, it's me. (DPxDC)

Long post, but short plot info or progression wise!

Danny loves his parents, don't get him wrong. They weren't perfect by any means, but they tried. As hard as it was for him to come to terms with, it's okay. Really.

It's okay that Jazz had been the one to raise him. It's okay that his parents talked about wanting to rip him apart during mealtime. It's okay they didn't notice the way ghostly things attached to Danny. It's okay that they never paid enough attention to put his secret together.

It's okay because they weren't bad parents. Not as bad as they could be. Yes, they could be a little reckless. Yes, they had their problems. But the good times were there.

Saturday morning fudge cooking with Jack. Late night self-defense class with Maddie. Tinkering in the lab with both of them. Even the normal embarrassing moments were good.

Because his parents are awesome. They are absolutely cool, and they did their best. As best as they could.

That's why it hurt so much to leave.

It hurt to leave Amity Park, but it hurt more to leave his family. He felt it deep in his core, the pain of having to separate from those he loves. Those he needed to protect.

But it was time. If Danny wanted to protect them, he needed to leave. So, he did. He almost didn't say goodbye. Almost didn't want to face it all.

His friends were easy to say goodbye to, but it still hurt just as much. Sam and Tucker, they understood why he had to go. Same with Jazz. There were talks about other ideas and plans so that Danny didn't need to leave. But he had to. There was no other option.

But Danny needed to tell his parents everything. Tell them about his accident, tell them that he was Phantom. He couldn't just say bye and leave with no explanation. So he bit the bullet and did it.

It went well. Better than good, it was amazing. And Danny wished he could stick around to see the changes in his parents' work because of it.

Danny has cried enough times this past week than he was sure he cried his whole life. He had his fill, he doubt he could cry again soon.

For everyone's safety, Danny Fenton left Amity Park. Phantom had vanished from the streets. Amity Park was safe. The Anti-Ecto laws, the GIW, all of it. They wouldn't target Amity Park anymore.

It was a lot of work to get the other ghosts on board. But after Clockwork confirmed everything, it all set into motions. The world was free of ghosts, but Danny wasn't sure how long the others could stay away.

He needed a plan, needed to get the government to understand ghosts. But there was nothing Danny could truly do. He was just a kid.

He is just a kid. Just a kid leaving in a small apartment right by a place nicknames crime alley. But Danny liked it. Gotham had enough noise and ambient ectoplasm to keep him safe. It would be hard for anyone to find him.

He was safe. Safe for once. But Danny knew it wouldn't last long.

The problem here? Danny was all alone. He didn't have his team to contact. Didn't have Sam or Jazz to tell him that a plan was downright stupid. Didn't have Tucker to back up the stupid plans that could actually work.

That's how he ended up in space.

Danny loves space, and he wished he was visiting in better circumstances. Thankfully, the vacuum of space had no impact on Danny's ghost form. It was harder than he expected to find what he was looking for.

God, Danny wished Tucker was here. The techno-nerd was a wiz with the computer. Amazing at hacking and tracking in a way Danny couldn't understand.

But Danny didn't have Tucker. He didn't have anyone right now. He couldn't have anyone right now.

Even so, Danny found it. Found the secret space base for the Justice League. It was a struggle, but he found it. And for once, his luck was on his side.

The whole team was there. Well, the main ones you see on the news and in the paper. All sitting around a giant table, a whole meeting was happening.

Danny took one shuddering breath in before phasing into the Watchtower invisibly. He was honestly surprised when no alarms went off. No defenses were triggered. He made a mental note to give them some ghost detection equipment if things go well.

Except things didn't go well. At least not the way Danny had been hoping.

He silently made his way to the table, standing a bit of a distance from them. Just in case he needed to run. His eyes jumped between the different heroes.

Danny steeled his nerves, at least tried to. He stood directly across from Batman, in the perfect spot to be noticed instantly. Then he dropped his invisibility.

All eyes were on him in an instance. Danny never felt so terrified in his life. Not like this. His attempt at steeling his nerves failed immediately.

Maybe the anxiety and fear was clear on his face. Maybe it's because he is a child, despite glowing and being someplace he shouldn't be. But Danny vaguely heard a soft, gentle voice speak to him.

He couldn't make it out, not really. His ears were filled with the sounds of his rushing ectoplasm. A tremble settled in his hands, and Danny knew he needed to hurry up. He needed to speak before he lost all his cool.

"I... Sorry, I know I shouldn't be here... But, uh, my name's Phantom... And I... I..."

The words stumbled and spilled from Danny in a less than elegant and confident way. The shaking in his hands got worse the more he tried to speak. His voice shaky and waivering, even when he tried to sound strong.

And Danny couldn't pull his gaze away from Batman. The cape crusader stood unmoving, unphased, and completely silent. The other heroes had a mixed of expression, but Danny couldn't read Batman.

That unnerved the teen so much. In that moment, he regretted ever coming here. He regretted leaving Amity Park. He regretted telling his parents. He regretted ever stepping foot in that damn portal to begin with.

Then something snap inside of Danny. The dam that was holding everything in just suddenly broke. In a split second, his vision grew blurry with tears.

Even though he didn't need to breathe, his breathing started to pick up. Fast and short. He could feel the phantom feeling of a heart beating rapidly in his chest. Or maybe it was his core warning him of the sudden wave of emotions rocking through him.

"I... I... Help."

The single word, the single plea, spilled from Danny in a pathetic whimper. Before he suddenly dropped to his knees. He curled in on himself. Arms wrapped tightly around himself, head bowed and white hair curtaining his face. Tears fell fast down his cheeks, leaving droplets on the floor, as choked sobs left him.

In that moment, Danny didn't feel like a hero. Didn't feel like Phantom. Didn't feel like the ghostly hero that was in charge of fixing everything.

In that moment, Danny felt like a scared little kid. A kid who was given too much too fast, with no real guidance. A kid that had to grow up fast and had people depending on him. A kid who was exhausted and terrified. A kid that wanted nothing more than to run home. To be wrapped up in a Jack Fenton Bear Hug. To feel his mother's hand combing through his hair as she whispered gentle reassuring words to him.

In the end, Danny Fenton was still just a kid. And it seemed the Justice League could see that.

Danny couldn't focus on the words he heard spoken around him. He couldn't focus on the moments either. He couldn't focus on anything.

Until suddenly, arms were wrapped around him in a gentle and warm embrace. He felt something draped over his back. Danny blinked the blurriness in his vision just enough to make out who was in front of him.

Batman. The hero that scared Danny the most seconds ago.

Except this time, even through the cowl, Batman looked softer. The man looked human and understanding. It made Danny's mind flash to his parents once again. Which only made him cry harder.

A glowing kid was wrapped up in Batman's arms, the two kneeling on the ground. Batman's cape wrapped around the trembling, sobbing form. The kid clinging to Batman like a lifeline. The rest of the Justice League stood around the two.

Nobody quite knowing what the hell they were supposed to do. Or what was really going on.

All those heroes needed to know was simple enough. There was a kid who went through all this trouble to end up in the Watchtower. A kid that's so hurt and exhausted, pleading for help. And helping was the Justice League's specialty.

[azatas]

"we need more complex female characters" you couldn't even handle her

[cybernaght]

The fandom echo chamber: fanon, microanalysis and conspiracy brain 

As someone who has been in fandom spaces, on and off, for 20 years, I find some fascinating trends popping up in the last decade that I thought to be fandom-specific but clearly aren’t. So, I would like to do a little examination of where those things come from, how they are engaged with, and what it says about the way we consume media. This is a think piece, of sorts, with my brain being the main source. As such, we will spend some time down the memory lane of a fandom-focused millennial.

This is largely brought about by Good Omens. But it’s also not really about Good Omens at all.

Part one. Fanon.

The way we see characters in any story is always skewed by our very selves. This is a neutral statement, and it does not have a value judgement. It’s simply unavoidable. We recognise aspects of them, love aspects of them, and choose aspects of them to highlight based entirely on our own vision of the universe. 

Recognition comes into this. There is a reason so many protagonists of romance novels have a “blank slate” problem. Even when they do not, we love characters who are like us or versions of us that we would like to be. And when we say “we”, I also mean, “me”. 

(I remember very clearly this realisation hit me after a whole season of Doctor Who with writing which I hated utterly when I questioned why I still clung so incredibly hard to Clara Oswald as my favourite companion. Then I looked at myself in the mirror. Oh. Well. That would do it, wouldn’t it?)

Then, there is projection, and, again, this is a neutral statement. Projection exists, and it is completely normal and, dare I say it, valid way of engaging with — well, anything. Is the character queer? Trans? Neurodivergent? Are they in love? Do they like chocolate? Are they a cat person? Well, yes, if this is what the text says, but if the text does not say anything… You tell me. Please, do tell me. Because, in that moment of projection, they are yours. 

And then, there is fandom osmosis, and that is the most fascinating one of them all, the one that is not very easy to note while you are inside the echo chamber. It’s the way we collectively, consciously or not, make decisions on who or what the characters are, what their relationships are, and what happens to them.  

(Back when I was writing egregiously long Guardian recaps on this blog I actually asked if Shen Wei’s power being learning actually was stated anywhere in the canon of the show. Because I had no idea. I have read and reread dozen of fanfics where that is the case, and at some point through enough repetition, it became reality.)

We are all kind of making our own reality here, aren’t we? 

Back when things were happening in a much less centralised manner - in closed livejournal groups, and forums of all shapes and sizes - I don’t remember there being quite as much universally agreed upon fanon. Frankly, I don’t remember much of universally agreed upon anything. But now, everything is in one place: we have this, and we have AO3, and it’s wonderful, it really is so much easier to navigate, but it’s also one gigantic reality-shifting echo chamber, with blogs, reblogs, trends, and rituals. 

Accessibility plays its part, too. If you were, say, in Life on Mars (UK) fandom between seasons, and you wanted to post your speculation fic, you had to have had an account, and then find and gain access to one of the bigger groups (lifein1973 was my poison, but ymmv), and then, if you feel brave you may post it, but also, you may want to do so from your alt account if you wanted to keep yours separate, and then you would have to go through the whole process again. And I’m not saying that fan creations then were somehow inherently better for it than fan creations now (although Life on Mars Hiatus Era is perhaps a bad example - because some of the Speculation Fic there was breathtaking), but there is something to say about the ease of access that made the fandoms go through a big bang of sorts.

(I mean, come on, I can just come here and post this - and I am certain people will read it, and this blog is a pandemic cope baby about Chinese television for goodness sake.)

The canon transformations that happen in the fandom echo chamber truly are fascinating to witness as someone who is more or less a fandom butterfly. I get into something, float around for a bit, then get into something else and move on. I might come back eventually when the need arises, but I don’t sustain a hiatus mind-state. This means that when I float away and return, I find some very intriguing stuff.

Let’s actually look at Good Omens here. Season two aired, and I found it spectacular in its cosy and anguished way; deliberately and intelligently fanfic-y in its plot building; simple but subversive, and so very tender. (I will have to circle back to this eventually, because, truly, I love how deliberately it takes the tropes and shatters them - it’s glorious). And, to me - a person who read the book, watched the first season, hung around AO3 for a few weeks and moved on - absolutely on-point in terms of characterisation. 

So imagine my surprise when the fandom disagreed so vehemently that there are actual multi-tiered theories on how characters were not in possession of their senses. Nothing there, in my mind, ever contradicted any of the stated text, as it stood. This remained a strange little mystery until I did what I always do when I flutter close to an ongoing fandom.

I loaded AO3 and sorted the existing fic by popularity. And there it was, all there: the actual earth-shattering mutual devotion of the angel and the demon; willingness to Fall; openness and long heart-aching confession speeches. There was all of the fanon surrounding Aziraphale and Crowley, which, to me, read as out of character, and to one for whom they became the reality over the last four years, read as truth. 

Again, only neutral statements here. This is not a bad thing, and neither this is a good thing, this is just something that happens, after a while, especially when there are years for the fandom-born ideas to bounce around and stew. I can’t help but think that so much of what we see as real in spaces such as this one is a chimaera of the actual source and all the collective fan additions which had time and space to grow, change, develop, and inspire, reverberating over and over again, until the echoes fill the entirety of the space. 

Eventually, this chimaera becomes a reality. 

Part two. Microanalysis 

Here are my two suppositions on the matter:

1. Some writers really love breadcrumb storytelling. 

Russel T Davies, for instance, on his run of Doctor Who (and, if you are reading it much later - I do mean the original one), loved that technique for his seasonal arcs. What is a Bad Wolf? Who is Harold Saxon? Well, you can watch very very carefully, make a theory, and see it proven right or wrong by the end of the season. 

Naturally, mystery box writers are all about breadcrumb storytelling: your Losts and your Westworlds are all about giving you snippets to get your brain firing, almost challenging you to figure things out just ahead of the reveal. 

2. We, as humans, love breadcrumbs.

And why wouldn’t we? Breadcrumbs are delicious. They are, however, a seasoning, or a coating. They are not the meal. 

Too much metaphor?

Let’s unpack it and start from the beginning.

Pattern recognition colours every aspect of our lives, and it colours the way we view art to a great extent. I think we truly underestimate how much it’s influenced by our lived experiences.

If you are, broadly speaking, living somewhere in Western/North-Western Europe in the 14th century, and you see a painting in which there is a very very large figure surrounded by some smaller figures and holding really tiny figures, you may know absolutely nothing about who those figures are, but you know that the big figure is the Important One, and the small ones are Less Important Ones, and the tiny ones are In Their Care. You know where your reverence would lie, looking at this picture. And, I imagine, as someone living in the 14th century, you may be inspired to a sense of awe looking at this composition, because in the world you live in, this is how art works. 

If you, on the other hand, watch a piece of recorded media and see the eyes of two characters meet as the violins swell, you know what you are being told at that moment. You don’t have to have a film degree to feel a sort of way when you see a green-tinged pallet used, when cross-cuts use juxtaposing images, or notice where your focus is pulled in any given shot. This stuff - this recognition of patterns - has been trained into us by the simple fact that we live in this time, on this planet, and we have been doing so long enough to have engaged recorded media for a period of time. 

As humans, we notice things. Our brains flare up when they see something they recognise, and then we seek to find other similar details and form a bigger picture. This often happens unconsciously, but sometimes it does not. Sometimes we do it on purpose: finding breadcrumbs in stories is a little bit like solving a mystery. It allows us to stretch that brain muscle that puts two and two together. It makes us feel clever. 

So yes, we love breadcrumbs, and, frankly, quite a lot of storytelling takes advantage of this. It’s very useful for foreshadowing, creating thematic coherence, or introducing narrative parallels and complexity. It’s useful for nudging the viewer into one or the other emotional direction, or to cue them into what will happen in the next moment, or what exactly is the one important detail they should pay attention to.

Because this is something media does intentionally, and something we pick up both consciously and not, it is very hard to know when to stop. We don't really ever know when all of the breadcrumbs have been collected. It becomes very easy to get carried away. There is a very specific kind of pleasure in digging into content frame by frame, soundbite by soundbite, chasing that pleasure of finding. 

But it is almost never breadcrumbs all the way down. They are techniques to help us focus on the main event: the story. I truly believe those who make media want it to reach the widest possible audience, and that includes all of us who like to watch every single thing ever created with our Media Analysis Goggles on and those who are just here to enjoy the twists and turns of the story at the pace offered to them. And I think, sometimes in our chase to collect and understand every little clue we forget that media is not made to just cater for us.

One can call it missing a forest for the trees. But I would hate to mix my metaphors, so let’s call it missing a schnitzel for the breadcrumbs. 

Part three. The Conspiracy Brain. 

If you are there with me, in the midst of the excited frenzy, chasing after all those delicious breadcrumbs, then patterns can grow, merge together, and become all-encompassing theories. Let’s call them conspiracy theories, even though this is not what they truly are.

So, why do we believe in conspiracy theories?

One, Because We Have Been Lied To. 

All conspiracies start with distrust.

If you are in fandom spaces - especially if you are in fandom spaces which revolve around a queer fictional couple - especially-especially if you have been in such spaces for a period of time, you have most certainly been lied to at one point or another. 

We don’t even have to talk about Sherlock - and let’s not do that - but do you remember Merlin? Because I remember Merlin. Specifically, I remember the publicity surrounding the first season, with its weaponised usage of “bromance” and assertions that this whole thing is a love story of sorts, and then the daunting realisation that this was all a stunt, deliberately orchestrated to gather viewership. 

And, because we were lied to in such a deliberate manner for such an extensive period of time, I genuinely believe that it forever altered our pattern recognition habits, because what was this if not encouragement to read into things? Now we are trained to read between the lines or see little cries for help where they might not be. Because we were told, over and over again, that we should.

(Yes, I think we are all existing in these spaces coloured by the trauma of queer-bating. I am, however, looking forward to a world where I can unlearn all of that.)

Two, Cognitive Dissonance.

The chain reaction works a bit like this: the world is wrong - it can’t possibly be wrong by coincidence - this must be on purpose - someone is responsible for it.

Being Lied To is a preamble, but cognitive dissonance is where it all originates. In so many cross-fandom theories I have noticed a four-step process:

A) this is not good

B) this author could not have made a mistake 

C) this must be done on purpose

D) here is why 

(Funny thing is, I have been on the receiving end of the small conspiracy spiral, and it is a very interesting experience. Not relevant to this conversation is the fact that a lot of my job revolves around storytelling. What is relevant is that my hobbies also revolve around storytelling. And one of them is DnD. Now, imagine my genuine shock when one of the players I am currently writing a campaign for noticed a small detail that did not make a logical sense within the complexity of the world, and latched on to it as something clearly indicating some kind of a secret subplot. Their thinking process also went a bit like this: this detail is not a good piece of writing — this DM knows how to tell stories well — this is obviously there on purpose. It was not there on purpose. I created a clumsy shorthand. I erred, in that pesky manner humans tend to. And, seeing this entire thought process recited to me directly in the moment, I felt somewhere between flattered and mortified.)

This whole line of thinking, I think, exists on a knife’s edge between veneration and brutal criticism, relentlessly dissecting everything “wrong”, with a reverent “but this is deliberate” attached to it like a vice, because it is preferable to a simple conclusion that the author let you down, in one way or another. 

Three, Intentionality 

I believe that there is no right or wrong way of engaging with stories, regardless of their medium, and assuming no one gets hurt in the process. While in a strictly academic way, there is a “correct” way of reading (and reading into) media, we here are largely not academics but consumers; consumption is subjective.

However, this all changes when intentionality is ascribed. 

The one I find particularly fascinating is the intentionality of “making it bad on purpose” because, as open-minded as I intend to always be, this just does not happen.

It certainly does not happen in long-form media. Even in the bread-crumb mystery box-type long-form media. 

When television programs underdeliver, they also underperform, and then they get cancelled.

If all the elements of Westworld Season 4 that did not sit together in a completely satisfactory way were written deliberately as some sort of deconstruction for the final season to explore, then it failed because that final season will now never come.

(There will likely never be a Secret Fourth Episode.)

And look, I am not here to refute your theories. Creativity is fun, and theorising is fantastic. 

But, perhaps, when the line of thought ventures into the “bad on purpose” territory, it could be recognised for what it is: disappointment and optimism, attempting to coexist in a single space. And I relate to that, I do, and I am sorry that there is even a need for this line of thinking. It’s always so incredibly disappointing that a creator you believed to be devoid of flaws makes something that does not hit in the way you hoped it would. It’s pretty heartbreaking. 

Unfortunately, people make mistakes. We are all fallible that way. 

Four, Wildfire.

Then, when the crumbs are found, a theory is crafted, and intentionality is ascribed, all that needs to happen is for it to catch on. And hey, what better place for it than this massive hollow funnel that we exist in, where thoughts, ideas and interpretations reverberate so much they become inextricable from the source material in collective consciousness. 

Conspiracy theories create alternate realities, very much like we all do here. 

So where are we now?

I am not here to tell you what is right and what is wrong; what is true, and what is not. We are all entitled to engage with anything we wish, in whichever way we wish to do it. This is not it, at all. 

All I am saying is… listen.

Do you hear that echo? 

I do. 

[hiraeix]

still not over how the season ended 👍

[vixenfoxpup]

I need more dca fics to read, not just because they're all so cool and special and unique-

I want to collect their y/n's in my pocket, and bring back the y/nverse. All of them in a lil pocket dimension (the dca stay in their respective stories, this place is reserved for the self inserts and side characters/family to interact. The boys can have their own pocket dimension)

The y/ns live on the same street or apartment complex, being bunched into groups that are roomies

For example. Bamsara's Solar Lunacy y/n, Paper-Lilypie's CCRT y/n, and bones-of-a-rabbit's staffbot y/n. SB is there so CCRT can perform routine maintenance, plus CCRT can be a but messy, plus they could help clean up after ccrt's kids. SL is where, you may ask? Their room has been vacant for some time, but CCRT and SB keep it clean and regularly dusted, out of respect. They don't know if or when their friend will return, but they'll be welcome at any time.

Naffeclipse's y/ns share a suite, probably.

spadillelicious's LDR y/n could stay with saltciphblr's lovebug au y/n

Again, I need to read more to get a better feel of the different wonderful y/n's

This probably won't be uploaded, maybe someday, but this is mostly self indulgence that my brain has been blasting on repeat all day

Into the y/nverse, I raise you from the depths

[uccmd]

Gabriel: i'm not interested in such human nonsense as a romantic relationship, i'm the supreme archangel Gabriel who only ever required God's love and-

Beelzebub: *creates a fly in their mouth*

Gabriel: ...fuck

[purenonsens]

A matchbox label fit to spark joy, er I mean fit to light restaurant table candles on your own (not necessarily at Ritz). (inspired by vintage matchbox labels and actually fit to print and decorate your own tiny box after a bit of resizing~)

[mur-art]

I interrupt the usual WTTT brainrot to bring you some Good Omens brainrot. 😇😈

This is my first time drawing these sillies. Plz bear with me as I figure out how to draw them!

Reference and details under the cut:

[achlyisdumb]

Hollow Escape AU

This is my first post in Tumblr and I'm not really experienced with making a comic so please don't attack me-

Next // Character Design

This is an AU where TSC ran away from Alan in the events of AVA IV. Meeting TCO earlier in the process.

This took a lot of courage for me to share and I hope you like it. If a lot of you people are interested, I might continue to post more about this AU and share more info. I already have the 3 Hollow Heads design so why not?

[biblically-accurate-dca]

various redraws of tsams thumbnails

[createserenity]

Does Crowley stay at the bookshop all night?

I'm just putting it out there that I don't think this is talked about enough:

This might not have been filmed, but it's right there in the scriptbook. Crowley leaves Aziraphale's bookshop right before Gabriel and Sandalphon arrive. I'm sure it's implied they are visiting fairly early on Thursday morning, since it's the first scene labelled as Thursday and later on Aziraphale and Crowley have time to drive all the way to Oxford and mess about there. So what? Well the scene before this is Aziraphale and Crowley drinking in the bookshop after Warlock's birthday party on the Wednesday. It must be fairly late in the day by this point because the hell hound was supposed to arrive at 3pm and this scene is happening sometime later. So Aziraphale and Crowley are in the bookshop drinking presumably into the evening on Wednesday whilst Crowley goes on about how he knows what Aziraphale smells like and they both think that the world is about to end in a matter of days. Then the next morning Crowley is noted as leaving the bookshop and has clearly been in there for enough time that Sandalphon can still smell his presence. Are we supposed to buy into the idea that he leaves late Wednesday night, comes back for an unspecified reason really early on Thursday, leaves again when the angels turn up and then comes back later for the trip to Oxford? Well, I'm not buying it. So what were they doing in the bookshop all night? (And also Aziraphale takes the angels into his back room to buy "pornography" - the back room where he was with Crowley not that long before - and frankly Aziraphale loves feeling like he's got one over on the Archangels, especially Gabriel, so yeah, there's that too.) ...just saying.

[nightgoodomens]

This fandom is so talented.

[silvers-starrway]

So the wildest thing happened where @mactheactor decided to dub over (if that's even the correct terminology) the Chaos Sonic animation I made!!!!

I'm still in utter awe about this like, hands down the coolest thing ever I've been thinking about this non-stop. Hope y'all enjoy it as much as I do!!