#also wanted to talk about fandom not knowing what peacekeeper means but someone already did and much better than i ever could

[countlessofvoids]

Post-HTTYD 1 Hiccup is not a character I particularly care about but I will not stand for is the shit he gets for his choices in THW. Everything he does is with good intentions yet he's treated by both the characters and narrative as if he's a selfish moron. Everyone in the movie (& the writing staff) act like he's the worst person alive. They constantly tell him that Toothless does not care about him now and won't be coming back, then it's presented as Hiccup being unreasonable for feeling that insecurity. Honestly he's handling everything quite well considering his situation. Berk got burned to the ground, there's three entire armies after him and his tribe is in danger, the same one that has little interest in respecting him.

The audicity of writers making Astrid say "Look at you embracing change, I'm impressed!" (something along those lines). Out of every possible person to tell it to, it's the boy who was the first to fight for peace between humans dragons (you might say it was actually Valka, but not really. She chose the dragons' side, while Hiccup chooses both). It's very contradicting even if any of that didn't happen - in the same film this dialogue is said, Hiccup is the one to make the decision to leave their decades old home. Doesn't really sound like "not embracing change".

[thehollowprince]

I've already said before how much I can't stand Screenrant, and yet I fall for this clickbaiting rage bait every time I see it among my Google recommendations. Seriously... every time.

And I don't make posts like this because I think it's going to change the minds of anyone who irrationally hates the Jedi because someone in the fandom convinced them too by using guiding terminology. No, I make posts like this so that when someone goes looking, they'll find opinions that differ from what's popular, as well as using facts from the source material to back up those opinions.

So we're just going to go through this, point by point, and highlight the flaws in this "argument."

The only question I have for this is Why?

Why would an organization dedicated to defending peace and justice throughout the galaxy not have a base of operations? This is a question I'll repeat later on for one of these other "points," but it just bears repeating. How is the populace of the galaxy supposed to reach out to these new Jedi for help if they can't find them?

And while it sounds nice on the surface to travel the galaxy and train padawans as she goes, it's totally impractical, considering she's the ONLY Jedi doing this. Like, do you have any idea how long it would take to train new Jedi this way?

Like, I'm all for Jedi traveling the galaxy to bring peace and all that, but to do that, you have to have Jedi to travel.

I know this point has been talked about repeatedly, but let's once again hash this out.

The Jedi did not forbid relationships!

Relationships happen all the time, from romantic to familial to friendship. The Jedi frowned upon attachment. And before anyone hops on this post or jumps into my inbox, please look up the philosophy of nonattachment as it pertains to Buddhism and Eastern Philosophy.

Also, look up the difference between an attachment and a connection.

A Jedi's whole purpose was to put the needs of others first. That's their whole schtick. And if a Jedi couldn't put their commitment to the Order and the Republic above their own wants and desires, they were always free to leave. There are plenty of other Force-based groups in the Galaxy that didn't frown upon attachment or relationships. I don't understand why so many people think that the Jedi should have to change their entire philosophy to account for a few selfish individuals.

Go back and read the books and comics from over the years. With very few exceptions, every time a Jedi tried to have their cake and eat it too, they fell to the Dark Side. So Rey's Order actively encouraging relationships (because that's what Fandom is about anymore) is just going to continue the cycle of the Jedi Order falling because "how dare this ancient organization follow its rules and not throw out their entire philosophy" and thus starting the cycle all over again.

Yes, because having multitude of voices with differing opinions and viewpoints is bad. They should all just do their own thing, Lone Ranger style, regardless of how such chaos defeats the entire purpose of the Jedi.

Side note: what movies was this author watching where they came up with the idea that the Jedi Council thought they owned the Force?

The ranking system was there for a reason.

Can you imagine a new initiate coming to Rey and saying, "Hey, I know I've only been training here for two weeks, but I deserve to look at that Sith holocron because I'm a Jedi and we're all equal members with no rank."

You want them to be vigilantes.

Just say you want them to be vigilantes.

The entire point of the Jedi being such a prominent part of the Republic was to avoid bias in justice. We've seen how Senators and politicians and law enforcement could be bought off, but that wasn't the case for the Jedi. They were impartial peacekeepers and their place within the Republic was a vital part of that.

To me, this feels like the author wanted the Jedi to say, "Since you're mean to us, we're not going to help you," which is the complete antithesis of what the Jedi stand for.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I know your toddler is Force-sensitive, and your house falls apart every time they have a temper tantrum, but I can't help you. We don't offer training until they're older and have already caused massive damage. Best of luck."

Yes, absolutely. Because the defenders of peace and justice throughout the galaxy who should strive to remain calm and keep a level head in the heat of the moment should have LESS training. We just want cops with lightsabers, right?

The Jedi did not join the Republic as a military unit. All the times they acted as military commanders throughout their history was at the insistence of the Republic. Hell, they were drafted to lead the clone armies during the Clone Wars.

The Clone Wars, which I'd like to remind everyone, were orchestrated by several Sith Lords over the span of a decade, after decades more of destabilizing the galaxy. The Jedi specifically tried to stop the Clone Wars from happening, but the deck was stacked against them.

All of this blame on the Jedi for the failures of the Senate and the direct machinations of a Sith Lord who chested his way to the highest office of the Republic.

I highly recommend these people look up what George Lucas has to say about the Jedi and the Force. He specifically says that the Dark-Side is unbalance.

I'd also like to point out that the first mention of "the Light Side" was in The Force Awakens. There is no mention of "the Light" in the Original Trilogy or the Prequels. The "Light" is the balance.

This has been discussed multiple times by multiple people, but apparently it bears repeating.

When did they not "pay attention" to Force visions?

Because in both Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith, when Anakin has dreams about his mother and Padme, respectively, he doesn't tell Obi-Wan or Yoda the full extent of them. If he had told Obi-Wan what his dreams were about, they probably would have gone to save Shmi. And it was Anakin's own actions that led to Padme's death, the very thing he'd been dreaming about.

Hell, even when Luke had his Force vision in Empire Strikes back, if he'd heeded Yoda and been more cautious, he wouldn't have lost his hand. I want to remind people that when Luke showed up, Han Solo was already frozen in Carbonite, and Lando was able to save the others without the Jedi. All Luke being there accomplished was him receiving an ass-whoopin' and the revelation that he was Darth Vadar's son.

I don't know why people are so dedicated to trying to smear the Jedi at any and every opportunity, but it's getting boring. Especially when all one needs to do to refute these claims is to just watch the movies.

Like I said in my earlier post, this author wants Rey to create an entirely new organization and just slap the name Jedi on it for branding rights.

[chaosciara]

where the arch meets

I have not read King of Scars so I do not know anything about the plot therefore some information about Nikolai could be outdated. This is also the first time I've ever written for this fandom so hopefully I did the characters justice. My friend and I watched S&B and were talking about ships and I said I wanted to see Kaz and Nikolai together which then prompted whatever the hell happened here, please enjoy!

CW: mentions of blood, mentions of gambling

There are no spoilers for the S&B show

masterlist; my links

[image has alt text]

Kaz stares out the window, a glum look on his usually stoic face. Ketterdam was alive, unusual joy spinning itself in the streets as the city busies itself for the arrival of the one and only King Nikolai Lantsov. The festivities of the "Peacekeeper" as he had been so lovingly named, had started three long days ago. Every day that Kaz wakes up to popping streamers, and the litany of ballads associated with the King's ever growing list accomplishments, is a day his stolen peace gets ripped from beneath him. He's not even sure why the King is so popular. He can't say he was anywhere near impressed enough at their brief meeting to warrant the five different ballads about those hazel eyes alone. Kaz looks down at the papers littering his desk, crow club books and bank statements for his various 'assets', communications between the various councils in Ravka and Ketterdam, and the most recent letter from Inej, smelling of the sea.

Their friendship is something of a mystery to the world but between them she is the rock that kept him steady. Even now, with her sailing the high seas content to her freedom, he can feel the unwavering quiet of her. Briefly, he wishes she were here. She would make him laugh, tell him to stop being so glum about the brown-eyed, blonde haired king if he insisted on doing nothing about it. He wouldn't let his amusement at her teasing show, but later in the safety of his room, this room, he'd let a rare smile show. He misses their quiet friendship most of all. But she is happy on her ship with her crew and he has shit to do. He always has shit to do.

The thought, stark and unwelcome, snaps him back to the present. A scowl replaces his faraway look as he shuts the window to the new round of baudy tunes drifting up and straight into the headache knocking at his skull. He sits back down harder than he intended, and winces at the pain that lances down his back and into his leg. He can hear Nina, chastising him for not putting on the salve, for not resting. But he doesn't have the time. He can't do something as normal as rest. He has a city to run. Or at least the underbelly of a city to run.

The statements stare at him but the numbers swirl like melting ice-cream in a bowl, and he wants to throw the pages in the fire in frustration. But he has never acted on emotion, and he will not start now. So he pushes away from his desk, cane already cool under his fingertips, and makes his way to the floors of the crow club.

The passage muffles the sounds of chips cluttering on a table, and glasses set down hard on the wood, and shouting when someone wins, loses, almost gets decked for supposed cheating. But as soon as he steps past the doors, nodding at the two guards he'd posted at this entrance, all of that chaos surrounds him. There is no hush as he steps into the room, no blanket of fear or anger or anything. They don't even know he is there. They won't until he makes himself known. Spending years with his Wraith had taught him some things, even with the click of his cane. He looks to the corner expecting to spot Jesper; his heart, as it had done every day since they had all parted ways, clenched upon seeing the empty space where his sharpshooter was supposed to be. The disappointment doesn't stop his eyes from travelling to the table closest to the kitchens— or as the Nina lovingly called it, the muck hut— where Wylan was usually hunched over notebooks or losing to just about everyone, except maybe Inej, in a game of cards.

He misses them. He'd never tell them, would never let it so much as flash across his face, but he couldn't stop his heart from the same onslaught. He felt it every day. Every time he looked to his window and Inej wasn't perched atop it. Every time he walked to the gambling tables and Jesper wasn't leaning over it, brown eyes shining with hope. Every time he wandered the corridors of the club hearing Wylan's flute. When he decides to put salve on it's because he hears Nina's voice, sees her frown, as she tries so hard to heal them. He even misses Matthias but that is a road he doesn't allow himself to go down. A failure he cannot yet acknowledge. His trip down memory lane ends abruptly when a man with a hood over his eyes, shadowing his face, steps up to him.

"You Kaz, Kaz Brekker?" The voice is rough, almost too rough, but the lilting accent is familiar. Before he can place it the man is talking again.

"I want to speak with you, about a deal."

Kaz tilts his head, resting gloved hands on his cane as he takes the figure in. "Liar."

The man sputters jerking back, and just briefly he catches a glimpse of golden skin and something shiny pinned to his coat. "It's urgent!" The man's voice is not so rough, and that accent, charming in a way, bleeds through more and more.

"I'm not available for deals." It is not true, but he wants to see how they'll react, what they're capable of if he says no.

"You'll like this one." The roughness has been replaced by arrogance. And the world opens wide for Kaz.

"Come," He turns, already limping towards the doors and his rooms beyond. "Don't say anything until we're behind closed doors"

It takes them exactly one minute and twelve seconds to get to his study. As soon as he hears the door click behind him, he lifts his cane and with brutal precision he rips through the clasp at the man's chest and watches the coat land in a heap on his wooden floor. Letting the crows head of his cane fall back into his hand he finally looks up. "What are you doing here King?" The question holds more exhaustion than he's willing to admit.

"What?" The King of Ravka grins, beautiful and bright and full of arrogance, "You aren't happy to see me?"

And Kaz wants to tell him no and piss off and leave me alone, but his heart is pounding and there is blood rushing between his ears and he doesn't really remember what breathing does, how it works. Because this is the first time he's ever seen Nikolai. When they met all those years ago he was Sturmhond, the privateer. Since then Kaz has only seen posters, and art. But none of them, not a single one, has ever done the king justice. He is........ he is magic.

"Oh come on," The blonde is laughing. It sounds like water. It sounds like peace. "You can't expect me to act like a stranger after all the letters we've sent." Yes, the letters. The updates King Nikolai had requested about Ketterdam, about the barrel, about the illegal smuggling of grisha to work as slaves. Those letters. "What?" The King looks at him speculatively, amusement sparking in his hazel eyes— they suit him so much better than the green of Sturmhond. "Volcra got your tongue?"

“Didn't know you would be in town," Kaz manages to grind out. He hopes it sounds like irritation and not infatuation.

"The six million posters and seven ballads about my adventures aboard the Kingfisher were not notice enough?" That grin is back. It is ruining him. "Oh dear, next time I'll be sure to add floating parades to the mix."

"That's tomorrow." He glowers. He doesn't think the blonde could get anymore insufferable. He is wrong.

"Do you have plans to attend then?"

He ignores the question, the tease. "What are you doing here Lantsov?"

"I'm here for the festival Mr, Brekker."

"I mean here." He motions to the room, to him. "What are you doing in the Barrel, in my club—" He wants to say 'in my room'. He catches himself.

"I came," Nikolai steps a little closer. There's still do much distance between them, practically an ocean, but Kaz can feel the tension wrapping around his lungs. He wants out. He wants closer. He wants, he wants, he wants....... "To visit a friend Mr Brekker. I don't exchange letters detailing my failed attempt at diving through the sky with just anyone." Oh saints he's going to die. He's never going to survive this. His face is a brick wall, a crack where his frown breaks through.

"You are a busy man King, busier even, than i am." He wants to applaud himself for the steadiness of his voice. "I doubt that you had time to just pop by. So what do you want, Nikolai?"

There is a flash of something in those beautiful eyes, and he wants to chase it to the ends of the earth. "Must we always have an ulterior motive?" The voice is quiet, but it is filled with curiosity and emotions Kaz doesn't have the ability to unpack. "Is it not good enough that I wanted to see you Kaz."

The Underboss of Ketterdam becomes a rain, becomes wind, and earth, and gold. He sits down on his desk, uninterested in the groan of the wood as it tries to carry his weight. Nikolai looks at him, soft and open, all that charm hidden- packed away for a moment far removed from this one. Somehow the distance has shrunk between them until there is only two steps, maybe three before their bodies can collide. He knows Nikolai would not come closer, but some part of him wants the king to try. Wants to see what would happen. He shoves that part so far down it got to hell before him.

"Say something," The blonde whispers.

"How long till they realize you've snuck off?" The bark of laughter that escapes the king is like jurda straight into his bloodstream.

"We have an hour tops."

"Let's go." He throws a new hood, midnight blue and embellished with golden thread, at him. It's his own. He doesn't have time to find another. Nikolai puts it on, fastening the small gold clasp at his front, and Kaz has to remind himself to breathe when he sees how beautiful those colours are against that golden skin. It looks a thousand times better on Nikolai than it ever had in him.

"Where are we off to then?" The blonde asks, his familiar charm steady through his features once more. "You're not intending to kidnap me and sell me to the highest bidder are you?" Before he can even start to ignore the question Nikolai is carrying on. "I have to tell you I won't make a very high bid. I seem to have botched myself a little when I turned into one of the Darkling's little pets. I think my di—"

"Shut up will you," He snaps, black eyes scanning the club as they walk through it.

"A little tense Mr Brekker," He can hear the grin. He doesn't know whether he wants to slap it or stare at it. He keeps walking.

They're outside and it's just started to drizzle and he has the brief thought that maybe he shouldn't be making the king of Ravka gallivant in the rain. But then he catches a glimpse of Nikolai's expression, full of wonder and glinting with excitement and he can't turn back even if he wants to.

"Kaz," Saints he loves the way the blonde says his name. "I really think it's better if I know where we're going, sake of safety and all that."

"We're going to the docks."

"You're not intending to drown me, are you?" There is no concern hidden behind the question, only delighted amusement.

"If I had intended to be rid of you Nikolai," Kaz turns his head, stares at the man, "I would have done it the second you walked into my club."

"Even though you didn't know it was me?"

It's his turn to smirk, and he revels in it. "I know everyone that comes into my club, King." The title reverberates in his throat. He catches the flash in the royal's eye.

"Why are you taking us to the docks?"

"I want to show you something, privateer." The strangled noise he hears in answer makes him force down the smile threatening to erupt.

The rain is at that awkward stage where it's more than a drizzle but less than a downpour. The kind that seeps into your clothes, makes your bones wet before you can even feel it on your skin. But they're almost there, he can see their destination clear in front of him. They are quiet, a rare thing for Nikolai he thinks, as they walk. Every now and then he glances to his companion who is always staring at the world in wonder. Like every corner produces a new kind of thrill. Like he'll be able to collect them all and bottle them for his journey home.

"Why are you staring at my pretty face?" The subject of his hidden amazement asks. "You've never been one to appreciate beauty Mr Brekker. If you did you'd have commented on my lovely violet wax seals at least once." He fights the urge to roll his eyes at that. The wax seals were the least interesting thing about the letters. He usually ripped them open like a mad man, clawing for the content inside and reading it as if it were going to disappear before he could get to the, 'fondly, Nikolai Lantsov' at the end.

"I have more interest in the contents inside."

At that the King does roll his eyes, "Oh yes, the ever so interesting reports about dock lookouts and safe grisha arrivals."

"It's my business."

"Mhm" Is all the blonde has to say.

They step onto the docks, and the tap of his cane, louder, more prominent on the wood, rings slightly in his ears. It's a comforting sound. One he has come to rely on to keep him steady. Especially when there's a king walking in stride with him, a king who kind of looks like the sun just before it disappears over the horizon. A king who scents his letters with lavender because he wants people to know calmness. A king who has never touched him but always stands close enough that he can feel the heat of him.

He recognizes the marker that tells him they're in the right place and then he motions for Nikolai to stay behind him. "Its small so we'll have to be close together." He says quietly.

"Are you okay with that?" The question is so gentle, so full of worry it almost buckles his knees.

"I'll manage."

"Kaz," He sounds hesitant, he sounds worried. "You don't have to force yourself to do something for me."

"I'm not, now come on before it disappears." And then they're stepping into an alcove only slightly bigger than a coffin and they're so close and there's so little air. But still Nikolai is not touching him and the leather of Kaz's gloves is warm against his skin. There is no part if him exposed to the elements, except his face. He takes one breath, takes two. The king is looking at him with concern, it is swimming in his features.

"Look up." Together they tilt their heads, and as the weak sunlight, bogged by rain, sinks to the floor the gems buried in the stones of the roof above them come ablaze. Crimson reds, and sapphire blues, and forest greens, and golden yellows. The light fractures and morphs and dances around them, like coloured stars.

He had discovered this wonder in a burning rage, trailing blood down the docks. He'd beaten up a man who betrayed their gang- dirty work for the boss- but half way down the docks he'd thought he was being followed and he slipped into this little alcove. He comes back every chance he gets.

"This is—" For once King Nikolai Lantsov is speechless. "How did you even find such a thing?" The hood had fallen off his head when he looked up so every angle of his face is on sharp display. The miserable lighting only made him more golden as if he was defying the weather simply by existing. And the gemstones reflected in his eyes, turning them every shade of rare rainbow. One of three Kaz had ever seen in Ketterdam.

He just raises a brow. "We should be getting back, I'm sure they've already sounded the alarm."

The blonde snorts, "They're used to it by now."

"Oh you sneak off to visit all your friends?" They step out carefully, making sure not to disturb the structure or get caught in the act.

"Feeling less special?"

"Wondering if maybe you should pay your guards more."

They bicker all the way back, about everything, trading wit and meaningless insults in equal measure. Kaz insists on dropping Nikolai off at his lodgings and Nikolai insists he doesn't have to despite leading them towards the building he's staying in. When they finally arrive, it is with a sense of longing for more that settles between them. More time, more laughter, more traded quips, just more.

"Goodbye Mr Brekker." The King bows his head.

"Nikolai." He nods.

"Come visit me in Ravka soon." It's the line he prints in every letter, no matter how far apart their replies are, or how many other things they have going on. Kaz never acknowledges it. He won't put that kind of hope into them. He must stay here. He must work.

But today, with happiness bubbling under his skin, he cant help but let loose a small smile and a dangerous promise. "I'll try."

And fading under the bustle of people is a small golden plaque on the floor of the alcove. "To those we love, and love unconditionally." A bigger promise, one that has lasted through time itself.

"That's all we can do Kaz," Nikolai smiles. "We try."

[thank-your-lucky-stars]

I’m about to post a mammoth essay about the Roles of Fandom, but just to prove that I’m not a total hypocrite who isn’t immune to the Fandom Game, I’m going to tell you the roles that I myself have played in fandoms over the years - and trust me, some of this is really ugly!!

I can actually say I’ve fit into several of the Roles I list in my post, at one time or another. I have been the Popular Blog (the nicer-version, I hope!), but I’ve also been a bit of a Troublemaker too (not in an extreme way, and only from time to time; I have definitely said slightly provocative things about a certain band or band member who I believed to be problematic in order to stir up a little debate. It was never about hurting or offending people personally, but it was definitely in order to get people talking.) I have been a “I’m Just Here to have a Good Time” blog, but I’ve never really been a Fence Sitter, although I guess there have been times where I may have dabbled in that area. I also tried to be The Peacekeeper, but....that never really worked out for me, that was definitely a forced role and not something I slipped into naturally, even though I am someone who strives for peace, that specifics of that role definitely wasn’t for me.

I have, however, been a Mean Girl. I wasn’t actually mean to anyone, but I was a part of a group that could be rather unpleasant (they weren’t like hardcore Mean Girls, but they had a vibe and could be cold and bitchy, although as far as I’m aware and can remember, they were never openly nasty to anyone (that I know of?), not like the more extreme level of Mean Girls) however, they could behave in ways that weren’t cool and even though I was never really a part of that aspect, being friends with them certainly didn’t make me innocent. Who you associate with speaks volumes, and if people judged me for who I was mates with at that time then I do not blame them for that, because by being friends with these people - being a part of their gang - I was enabling some of the more unpleasant aspects of the group, even if I didn’t agree with them. 

They were a clique, they had an edge, and I was kinda fascinated by it, which is why I somehow managed to get involved. It was very much a game to me from the start, it just took me a while to realise it. It was a toxic and manipulative environment, even after we left the forum where we met (this was long before the days of tumblr), and confined ourselves to an AIM chat. We literally named ourselves ‘The World’s Most Hated AIM Group’. It actually got worse then. The in-fighting and the power-playing and manipulation was gross, and I definitely played my part in that.

With a few of the girls in particular, it was sort of a fight to be the alpha-female of the group. It was feisty and filled with drama. I literally barely saw it as something that was real, it all seemed completely fake, like it was just all pretend - a game of make believe, if you will - because it was all so extreme and ridiculous and dramatic. These were mostly American girls, and they knew drama like no other. I wanted these people to be my friends because I kinda found it all entertaining, and incidentally I became closest to the worst one of the lot - she was the Queen Bitch™ for sure, a really nasty, manipulative girl. I didn’t trust my instincts. I went along with it because I was 18 and I was bored and I didn’t have many friends in my real life so I just thought it would be fun to be a part of something, even if it was a part of something with a bunch of people I barely even liked (one or two of them were alright actually).

I was actually already popular within that fandom (the MCR fandom) at that point (2007) and had been for over a year, but things had gotten a little stale and I was getting a little bored, which is why I wanted to sort of mix with these people who were as much fascinating as they were awful. It was only after I got out of it (after being absolutely ripped to shreds - publicly! - by the Queen Bitch - the one I had a rather bizarre relationship with) that I realised just how fucked up it all was, just how fucked up I had been to view something that ended up being so damaging to me as being a game. I mean, it was a game, but it certainly wasn’t a fun one.

I definitely had people distance themselves from me during the time I associated with those girls. My other fandom friends would say “that [Queen Bitch] can be so horrible” and I’d be like “yeah, I know.” Yet I’d still talk to her every single night. That made me fake, I didn’t pay attention to how it made other people feel by mixing with these people, and looking back that was 100% my bad. As a result of this, I am definitely somebody who judges people by the company they keep; be it in fandom, or in the real world. People were right to judge me or turn their backs on me, as I was enabling these people by “hanging out with them”, even though I knew they were shitty. My loyalty lied in the wrong place. I should’ve turned my back but I was ignorant at best and fucking stupid at worst. On some levels you could say I knew what I was doing, but I was a pretty messed up kid at the time and the biggest thing I learnt from that period was that I just desperately wanted difficult people to love me.

I only realised this a couple of years ago actually. I used to see someone edgy, popular, cool, stand-offish, and I’d make it my mission to “break” them, to make them care about me, when it seemed like they literally didn’t really care about anyone else. That’s what I did with the Queen Bitch. I wanted to be close to her because she appeared untouchable, because she wasn’t generally nice to people, and I wanted to be the exception. I suppose I wanted to make her not as much of a bitch anymore, I wanted to “fix” (ugh) her and make her nicer. And I said all the right things, things I didn’t mean, until I got her calling me her “best friend”. And when that wasn’t enough, I went even further. There’s stuff I won’t talk about, that I’ve never really spoken about, but it was so so messed up and while it taught me so much about myself and about other people and about fandom, it’s also something I’m pretty ashamed of to be honest.

But this was something that sort of went outside of fandom. Like I said, we eventually were banned left the forum where we met/were based, the most popular forum in the MCR fandom from 2005-2007, so it sort of went beyond fandom politics by the end. But that’s how we got there in the first place. There were power games at play right from the start.

I completely changed after that. I literally changed my hair and my wardrobe and made a new start for myself. That’s how much it affected me. I mean, I grew up, really, and that was the final kick up the bum that made me take steps to being more of the person I wanted to be. I’ve never mixed with shitty people since then. This was 10 whole years ago, so naturally people start to grow in their late teens/early 20s anyway, but I definitely count that period - about 6 months or so, I reckon - as a significant one in my young life.

And fandom led me to that??? The MCR fandom was absolutely wild from 2005-2007. The Black Parade era was insane. We just got so, so huge. Our forum had like 200,000 members or something. There were official monthly awards where everyone would vote in multiple categories; best writer, most helpful user, funniest member etc etc. - I won Best Writer about 4 months in a row, as I wrote a really successful fic. After that I used to win Most Helpful User, as I was a total nerd and knew everything there was to know, to the point where people called me Yoda. I lost that title once I joined the Mean Girls. These 200,000 members didn’t vote for me as much anymore.

So I’ve honestly had a taste of it all? I was at the top and I sort of sacrificed it because I got bored and wanted to spice things up by hanging with total bitches.

And it was years before I joined a fandom again, the Mnkees fandom in 2012, an already well established fandom with 2 or 3 very significant/popular blogs. I was there for the longest of any of my fandoms to be honest, before it sort of went to shit last year due to trolling. 

And my most recent fandom, the ED fandom, I wasn’t really a full-on, active member for long enough to really find myself in an established role. 

But like....I have definitely seen things from a lot of different perspectives, and I’m able to finish writing my essay about all the general roles within fandom a year after I initially started it, because I’m not currently in a fandom so I can sort of look at things from a neutral point of view and not be influenced by any current goings-on. 

But yeah, I just wanted to make it clear that I’m definitely unbiased when it comes to certain fandom behaviour as I myself have done some questionable shit in the past. I was young when I fucked up the most, and was able to grow, but while I know sometimes some people are sort of beyond getting past certain shit, it is also my belief that everyone has the ability to change and better themselves if their heart is in it.

Anyway I’m going to shut up as I’ve been writing for like two days straight LOL