#it was the first time i was technically really in a fandom

[sir-myst-cake]

First post on here and it's a rant!! If you want more cool takes you should totally follow me as I'll be posting here more often and have totally cool art to share‼️‼️

I'm not completely sure how to tag this? I'm talking about the ships in a positive light so I think it's okay, and besides, I want lots of peeps to see it, I'm aware I probably won't change many people's minds at all, but it's okay lol, I just want Anti's to see they genuinely have a nothing burger and need to leave people alone.

This is a mostly TikTok only problem regarding Beast x Ancient's (thank god) but I've seen my fair share elsewhere like on here. So lemme counter every argument I've seen so far cause you got a lot of time on your hands to be telling people to off themselves over Cookie ships 😭 put that hate into people who actually deserve it.

BILLFORD COMPARISON

Regarding ShadowVanilla specifically, people have compared the ship a lot from both sides, but what really got me is what I've seen here:

"Shadow Milk Cookie is way worse than Bill! He drove Pure Vanilla to insanity! He tortured him!"- This is in regards to how people bring up the fact Anti's are fine with one thing but not the other when it's basically the same thing they're against. Psychological, physical, mental, and emotional torture. I'll be honest I haven't watched Gravity Falls whatsoever, but my friend has, and from what she says, yeah Bill is the definition of a cruel and unusual punishment. He's done some crazy things, absolutely heinous, might even be a little worse than Shadow Milk or on the same level, either way though-

You can't like one thing and then not the other, it's different flavors of the same thing, it's hypocritical. Either you hate them both or you hate neither.

"Those are 2 different fandoms!"- Doesn't matter, it's the same thing, just different media, it's not different whatsoever aside from the universe, there's much torture involved on both ends.

ABUSER X VICTIM

This one I've seen A LOT and I'm just ??

"If you ship Beast x Ancient's you support Abuser x victim btw"- That's a STRETCH. You are reaching FAR. Nobody is romanticizing the abuse, nobody is normalizing it, it's stuff that happened in canon and we acknowledge it but nobody is doing any of that other stuff. I'm not condoning anyone in real life to do that shit lol. It's called exploring, they have an interesting dynamic, romantic or platonic, two sides of the same coin. You can say the same thing about horror movies, they put a lot of disturbing stuff in there. Do the movie producers CONDONE any of that stuff? Obviously not. Goes for Devsisters too, they don't condone body mutilation yet they still made Burning Spice rip off Cheese's wings.

But even so, for the people who DO like it for the angst, I won't say fiction doesn't affect reality because it does in many cases, but this isn't one of them. Not every relationship is going to be peachy and perfect, just like in real life. I can give an example on this one too actually.

GoldenLily, they aren't condoning what Lily (technically) did to Golden Cheese's kingdom, but they like it for all the potential, complicated feelings and emotions that come along with it.

Also, that's basically the same thing with Beasts x Ancients, just turn it around to enemies to lovers.

"This isn't Villain x hero, this is abuser x victim"- Are you saying MOST of media is abuser x victim then? This is in fact a typical hero x Villain trope, it's nothing new. Respectfully, you guys freak out when a Villain does villain stuff, I'd be surprised if there was a villain who DIDN'T cause any trauma for the opposing party. But according to this logic, media is just dead, no more fanfiction, no more what ifs, no more content since it's all apparently problematic and not canon. Even if somebody switches stuff up in an AU, and makes things completely fluffy, that's apparently still not enough.

"oh you had to make an AU to ship them because you know it's toxic"- No, it's just playing around with scenarios. Learn to separate fanon from canon. This specifically goes for the redeemed AU's I see of the Beasts, people still complain, they act as if people can't change. One of the biggest examples I have of that is FlutterCord, Discord did plenty of messed up things, but in the end, he still managed to change. You'll still get burned at the stake for it though.

"You must be an abuser yourself to condone this!!"- Extremely disrespectful and a WILDDD take. Need I say more??

"I ship Beast x Beast rather than Beast x Ancient's"- According to your logic, the Beasts are abusers right? And if we followed the same story, they are not mentally well whatsoever. You'd rather ship 2 dangerously mentally unstable characters together who'd just make each other worse? Destroy each other? Fuck each other up beyond belief? It doesn't make sense does it, nor is it fair for y'all to praise these ships but hate on the others. You like watching the cookies crumble huh 😭

CANON

"The ship isn't canon!"- We know that, everyone should know that. With what I said earlier, please learn to separate fanon from canon. That's what a fandom is, we do non-canon stuff, it's very fun, you should try it.

"It's a Proship/Dark ship!"- Going the canon route, Beasts are Eons old, Ancients are thousands of years old. Big gap yes, but nonetheless all of them are old as fuck. Older than bloodlines. Treating the Ancients as if they aren't grown adults. You're intentionally trying to make it weird. Stop calling ships you don't like proships please.

Also a little off topic but please don't listen to everyone you interact with on TikTok?? I remember one time I was scrolling through a comment section and saw somebody say "Doesn't Mystic Flour Cookie hate Burning Spice Cookie?" On a MysticSpice vid, looked in the replies, somebody asked for proof/where it was implied, and they didn't answer 💀 just blatantly spreading misinformation. Sources around you are way more reliable than people who don't back up their claims.

CONCLUSION

Even despite all this, you still have the right to feel how you wanna feel. Just please stop harassing people for simple stuff like this, in all honesty, I feel like it's more about seeing one of your favorite characters shipped with somebody who hurt them in canon that makes peeps upset. Which I can totally understand because I used to be exactly like that, I LIVEEEE for Dark Cacao Cookie, when Mystic Flour's update came out, I wanted her dead. Quite literally blocked someone because I couldn't stand seeing their MysticCao art. Hated what she did to my baby boy fr.

But then It started growing on me, over time, I just realized it was never that serious.

Even so, notice how I still didn't go out of my way to harass said person about it because I specifically didn't like it? It really is that easy. Block and go about your day.

I also suspect this because of stuff like this 💀

Love that person who replied, but it's not that hard y'all. We all can in fact, get along.

ANYWAYSSSS thanks to those who took the time read, I love you my pookies hope you have a good day or night💕💕

[sholmeser]

mgs itself is guilty of this but i feel like people gloss over the realistic repercussions of sunny’s abuse wayyyyy too much…she was separated from her mother, drugged, groomed, and isolated SINCE BIRTH, and it’s likely raiden didn’t rescue her until she was at least two years old; she’s been with snake and otacon for most of her life at this point but, despite being a technical genius, still struggles with functioning properly. her motorics are disturbed. she can’t read social cues. virtually the only times she doesn’t stutter are when she’s reciting patterns of numbers she was conditioned into memorizing. it’s genuinely horrific and i absolutely hate how mgs4 (and a good chunk of the fandom) boil this behavior down to being a result of her acclimating to a new environment, or needing a maternal figure, or just being shy. otasune don’t struggle with her because they’re first-time parents; it’s because they literally do not have the skillsets necessary to properly accommodate a kid that’s gone through what sunny has—despite them almost certainly having been abused children themselves. i really do lament the fact that the long-term effects of this treatment aren’t ever really considered; i don’t think, realistically, that naomi’s influence should have been nearly enough to help her fix those issues

[riddlemearose]

Okay hear me out.

What if, and I mean this genuinely but also definitely more comedically than anything else, what if Wild's companion in Tears of the Kingdom was the Fierce Deity?

HEAR ME OUT.

It's this big thing in the LU fandom, Wild being in the minority of Links whom didn't have a companion on their journeys (I think Hyrule and Legend ((?)) are the other two). Yes he had wolf-Twilight in botw, but depending on what you think Twi was able to do, he technically doesn't count.

However in totk, Wild definitely doesn't have a companion. There's no Wolfie, no Flora. All you've really got are the Sages' ghostly forms, and I firmly Do Not Believe they count at all.

But we are all overlooking the absolute funniest solution to this, so once again, for your consideration, the Fierce Deity is Wild's totk companion.

Like Wild finds the Fierce Deity mask somewhere in his Hyrule and recognises it. Naturally he immediately goes "yeah this is probably a horrible idea but imma still do it" and puts it on more out of curiosity than anything else. And the Deity, who's spent the last several millenia slowly losing power - both from a lack of physical presence in the world and lack of worshippers of any degree - recognises this dumb idiot and adopts Wild on the spot. He knows this dumbass! His previous host cared very deeply about this idiot, so that means logically the Deity now has to as well. Duh.

The Deity's strength has waned significantly, so He can't offer the same power he had once offered to Time to fight Majora and the moon (read: He can't possess people anymore), but He can give blessings of strength, which is a win in Wild's book.

But way more importantly, the Fierce Deity is 100% done with literally everything that's going on at all times, and makes sure that Wild knows it. Which means that, instead of giving like actually sound advice, He ends up being kinda like Venom except Wild is 75-80% more likely to agree with him.

So totk ends up being kinda like this:

Muzu: *spouting off about how "Zelda" tried to kill Dorephan and brought all the sludge to the Zora's Domain* Fierce Deity *in the back of Wild's mind*: What A Dick -- Wild: *getting beaten up by the first Phantom Ganon he comes across* Fierce Deity: You're Making Us Look Bad! Wild: no I'm not! Fierce Deity: YES YOU ARE! Wild: NO IM NOT! -- Wild: yeah I'm def going to die Fierce Deity: You Are Not Going to Die! *kills everything* -- Wild: *stands at the edge of a sky island* Fierce Deity: Jump. Wild *equipping glide armour*: I like your funny words, magic man

(If you haven't seen that Petite Merde comic by CathianeDraws, you are missing out my friend)

[umi-adxhira]

ᝰ.ᐟ SERENITY | 021

FANDOM: TWTPTFLOB

WARNINGS: Um Dion, knocking reader unconscious

AUTHOR'S NOTES: :)

◄ PREVIOUS CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ►

It’s been a week since the incident, and now you’re able to walk, although the stitches and bandages wrapped around your body mildly restrict your movements. You make the decision not to leave your room - it’s unsafe to walk around vulnerable when demon children lurk in every shadow. You’ve already lost two maids. Now either Roxana or Griselda brings you food, carefully tasting it beforehand to ensure it isn't poisoned.

Technically, you could walk if you wanted to, but the truth is, standing for too long makes your legs weak. You hate the feeling of helplessness, of fragility, but you know better than to push yourself too soon.

A voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Why are you spacing out?” Jeremy, the boy in front of you, tilts his head, curiosity flickering in his sharp eyes. You blink a few times before offering him a small smile.

“Sorry. Just thinking,” you say, brushing off your wandering thoughts.

This time, neither Roxana nor Griselda was available, so Jeremy has taken it upon himself to bring your meal. You watch as he takes a bite of the steak and vegetables first, chewing thoughtfully before nodding.

“It’s fine. Eat up.”

He hands you the plate, and you thank him before picking up your fork. Silence settles between you both as you eat, the clinking of cutlery against porcelain filling the quiet.

After a while, Jeremy speaks. “It’s good that Fontaine died.” Your hand pauses mid-motion. Jeremy doesn’t look at you as he continues, his voice nonchalant, as if discussing the weather. “No one liked him much anyway. But it’s annoying that bastard Dion was the one who killed him.”

You swallow your bite, washing it down with water before responding. “Dion isn’t that bad. He’s been nice to me so far.”

Jeremy scoffs. “He’s annoying. Stubborn, too. Roxana doesn’t like him, so I don’t like him either.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Do you feel like you have to dislike the same people Roxana does to win her favor? Because if so, you really don’t need to. I’m sure she’d appreciate your true self more than an imitation of her opinions.”

Jeremy’s expression darkens as he turns away with a huff.

“Shut it.”

But you don’t miss the small blush dusting his cheeks. It’s faint, almost imperceptible, but it’s there. Smirking, you reach out and pinch his cheeks.

Jeremy flinches, jerking away from your touch. “Why the hell did you do that?!” he exclaims, standing up abruptly.

You giggle. “Because you were cute. You were blushing while thinking about your sister.”

Jeremy crosses his arms, his expression shifting to something more prideful. “Of course I care about her. I love my sister. She even says I’m her favorite person in all of Agriche.”

You laugh. “That so?”

Jeremy puffs his chest slightly, looking smug. You take another bite of your vegetables, but before you can fully chew, Jeremy suddenly leans forward and bites your cheek.

You jerk back, startled. “What was that for?!”

Jeremy smirks. “You looked like a squirrel while eating.” Laughter bubbles up from your throat, muffled slightly by the food still in your mouth. You shake your head, finishing your meal before reaching out to ruffle his hair. His golden locks become a tousled mess under your fingers. “Hey!” Jeremy whines. “I just had it done!”

You offer a teasing smile.

“I can brush it back for you if you want.”

“No way,” he grumbles, pouting slightly. He lingers for a moment, though, hesitating before he turns back to you. “You know,” he starts, rubbing his arm awkwardly, “you’re not as bad as I thought.”

You blink at him in mild surprise before grinning. “That’s quite the compliment.”

Jeremy clicks his tongue, looking away. “Whatever. Just… don’t die or anything.”

Your smile softens. “I’ll try my best.”

Without another word, he loudly announces, “I’m leaving,” and storms out, slamming the door behind him. You sit there for a moment, staring at the closed door before shaking your head with amusement.

He really is just a kid.

You finish your food in silence, letting your thoughts drift. You think back to Jeremy, the way he acts tough but is still just a 14-year-old boy who loves his sister more than anything.

Just as you let out a soft sigh, the door swings open again. This time, without a knock.

Dion.

The atmosphere shifts instantly. You look up at him, your body unconsciously tensing, knowing what he did to Fontaine. He takes slow steps into your room, closing the door behind him.

“You’re looking better,” he remarks, his tone as unreadable as ever. You keep your expression neutral, offering only a slight nod in response. Dion walks over, his sharp gaze scanning you, as if assessing your condition. Then, with a smirk tugging at his lips, he moves closer - too close. “Did Jeremy bore you?” he asks, tilting his head slightly.

You hesitate, unsure of what he wants to hear. Dion is unpredictable, dangerous in ways that are difficult to define. Your instinct tells you to tread carefully. “No, he was fine,” you say cautiously.

Dion chuckles, his voice low.

“That kid is too soft on you. I wonder how long that will last.” Dion leans down slightly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “You look better when you’re nervous,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing the edge of your jaw before trailing down to your hand.

Your breath catches, heat creeping up your neck. What is he doing?

Slowly, he takes your hand in his, running his thumb over your knuckles in a deceptively gentle motion. His touch is light, teasing, yet there’s an undeniable control behind it.

“You’re still trembling,” he notes, voice barely above a whisper. “How fragile.” You swallow hard, refusing to react, but the way his fingers trace over the back of your hand sends an unfamiliar warmth curling in your stomach. Dion smirks at your silence, then moves, sitting on the edge of your bed. “You should be careful,” he muses, still playing with your hand. “You never know who might take advantage of you.”

His words are laced with amusement, but you sense something darker beneath them. You pull your hand away, but he doesn’t let go immediately - he lingers, just for a second, before releasing you.

Then, before you can react, his hand moves swiftly, pressing against the side of your neck in a precise motion. A sudden wave of dizziness washes over you, and your vision blurs.

What-?

The last thing you see is Dion’s smirk before darkness consumes you.

TAGLIST: @evaxmisu , @00hellohello00, @welpthisisboring, @hsrvl264, @flyingpansaurus

[4pplec0re]

What was your first really big intresst?

ive had a lot i can't really pinpoint it but the first one that i really remember that really had an impact on me was... my hero academia in 2020 when i was 13 .....

[thetomorrowshow]

you will return to the hospital bed

febuwhump day 8: bleeding out

fandom: life series smp

part of my series six billion moths flying toward it, which begins in a war-ravaged world that grian manages to escape from, bringing the evo members with him to their own world, where they have infinite respawns and peace.

cw: mild gore, violence, war

~

Jimmy isn’t the best soldier.

“Left! Left!”

He isn’t the best marksman, yeah, but he also isn’t very agile, but he’s also Deaf and can never really tell who’s giving out instructions and what for (at this point, he’s really just cannon fodder, which is . . . not a nice thought).

Is the general yelling at him or someone else?

There’s really no way to know, but Jimmy just hopes he’s following orders and crawls left, his hands scraping against exposed tree roots and little chunks of dirt and rock. He’s just in time—a shell lands close to where he just was, blowing apart the ground with an earth-rattling explosion.

Whoever is behind Jimmy shoves him to the ground to get over him, Jimmy’s chin knocking against the dirt, a knee digging into his kidney. He bites back whatever he wants to yell at the soldier; the first rule of war is no in-fighting while you’re in an active battle.

He hates the trenches. Maybe one of these days, he’ll finally contract trench fever and he’ll be able to get out of all this.

Grian promised to get him out, but it doesn’t look like it’s gonna happen. He’s been here for—what, two years? Too long. There isn’t a clean escape route; he’s either going to have to get injured or sick or he’s going to have to die.

He should probably poke his head up and take a shot anywhere he can, just to do something. They’re all hiding in their own trenches, though, waiting for him to do just that. He sure isn’t going to be the first person to check if they can take a quick shot. That’s how you die in this business.

He hates this. He hates how commonplace it’s become to just be shot at, yet how scared he is to this day every time he marches out.

He’s been here all day, choking on gunsmoke and trying to see through teary eyes, a miserable existence when any day could be his last.

“We’re gonna die,” someone cries out—Jimmy can’t tell who or from where, especially with all the explosions and gunshots going on, but he just ignores it and keeps crawling through the dirt, the hot sun pounding down on his shoulders.

He tries, at least, but before he can go far, someone grabs his leg by the ankle and pulls.

Jimmy spins around—it’s another soldier, of course, a man probably close to his age or younger, and he looks terrified. His face is almost green under the dirt and soot, his eyes wide and bloodshot, tears and sweat streaking down his cheeks.

“We’re gonna die,” he says. “I—I can’t—I’m just a kid, dude, I gotta get out of here!”

Jimmy knows that feeling. The shock, the overwhelming fear, the sense of displacement. It’s never quite left him, and to this day he feels all jittery and awful and scared in every battle that he gets sent out to fight in, but he doesn’t know how to tell the kid that he’ll be okay when there isn’t any guarantee that he will be.

Jimmy’s seen people die. Friends, bunkmates, shot as they crouched right beside him and were just slightly less lucky than he. There’s a good chance that this kid—

There’s so much yelling, he can’t even think, but he can’t distinguish any of the voices or anything and—

BLAM!

Jimmy has a moment of blinding white—

Of red—

Of looking down at himself and thinking, oh, that’s way too much blood to be healthy.

Of looking down at himself and realizing that most of his body was missing.

That he simply does not have legs, and he can see into his stomach, and one of his arms is mostly blown off, part of the bone of his upper arm sticking out of dirty, bloody flesh.

Beside him, where his arm should be, is the head of that kid, his eyelids still fluttering.

Jimmy has another moment, where he breathes and it feels wrong, where he’s hit by blinding pain and disgust and horror all at once, where he feels his heart try to leap out of his chest, where he tries to scream but blood just gurgles out of a hole in his throat.

He’s—there’s so much blood—he didn’t—

Everyone always says that your life flashes before your eyes when you die. All Jimmy sees, though, is the house he grew up in.

His home there, the evening growing late, children playing in the front yard to catch moths in jars as they flock toward the porchlight, his mother poking her head through the curtains to make sure they’re safe.

He’s floating away, like a balloon released, watching the scene grow smaller and smaller below him.

Then it all fades away into a near-silent high-pitched squeal, and nausea washed over all the pain and Jimmy’s vision goes grainy then blinks out completely.

He falls into darkness, and he doesn’t return.

-

The darkness is calm. Quiet, with little specks of light scattered throughout.

Jimmy wasn’t brought up believing in an afterlife, and he kind of thought that when he died, he wouldn’t have any sort of consciousness. His code would split up and tie itself back into the universe, and that would be that.

This . . . this doesn’t feel like that.

Why is he here? Not, like, physically (he isn’t sure he’s anywhere physically), but he’s definitely somewhere to some extent, and he’s not sure how he feels about it.

He doesn’t like it, he decides a moment later, as the darkness begins to weigh heavily on him. How does it feel like that, like it’s absolutely suffocating him, like he can’t breathe, when he doesn’t have a body to react to any sort of pressure?

Then it weighs down more, and more, and it hurts—

It hurts his legs, so badly that he wants to scream, building up and up and up—and his arm, and his stomach, and his chest, and head, and hands, and throat—

There’s a sound, then, something that’s like the high-pitched whine of his death, echoing through his ears and it hurts just as badly as everything else, like his hearing aids are malfunctioning worse than they ever have.

There are voices beyond it. People are talking past the pain, past the noise, and Jimmy strains to breathe and manages it.

He’s breathing?

His eyelids feel way too heavy. He can’t open them, he can’t see a thing, he can’t do anything.

It hurts. Every part of him is in agony, and he gasps for breath again and again and eventually realizes that the awful whine in his ears is coming from his own throat.

What’s happening? He—he died, didn’t he, didn’t he die?

He blew up, his body was a collection of bits, chunks of flesh scattered across the trench, and he can only remember that and smell the blood and dirt and gunpowder and he shouldn’t be alive—

He pushes.

He pushes to open his eyes, even though it’s the most difficult thing that he’s ever done, and his vision is flooded with too-bright light and he immediately closes them again.

A voice says something.

His skin hurts, the actual skin of his chest—and then there’s something cold on his pec and Jimmy jolts, which just sends another wave of pain across his whole body.

He opens his eyes again—easier, this time—and squints against the brightness, trying to focus on the dark shape hovering over him.

It’s a person, who is touching him, and Jimmy blinks and blinks until he gets some kind of focus through the blurriness.

He can see their lips, at least, which helps him to understand what they’re saying.

“There we go, you’re all right. You’re back.”

Jimmy can’t speak. He tries, swallows, but words won’t come out in any intelligible form.

Some strange rasp comes out of his mouth, and the person—a doctor?—nods.

“Lungs sound good,” they say, moving off his chest. “Do you remember what happened?”

Jimmy shakes his head, a slight side-to-side movement.

Well, he kind of does. He remembers dying. He remembers being dead.

“You’ve been respawned,” the doctor says slowly. “Someone high-up must think you’re worth it. “

They clap him on the shoulder, a flood of agony surging out from the contact, and stand, turning away to fiddle with a blanket draped over Jimmy’s legs (his legs?). “You should . . . get back in the fight soon. Take a day to rest here . . . sure that everything went well.”

Respawn. A forgone conclusion; nobody ever got respawned. Not unless they were the best of the best, and Jimmy certainly wasn’t that. He can aim a gun and pull the trigger, but—

He’s . . . he’s Deaf. Why would they want him?

He died.

He knows why he got respawned.

He also knows he shouldn’t have been.

There are so many better people, so many skilled soldiers and tacticians and able-bodied people who have died—like the kid in the trench with him, who got hit by the same shell.

It shouldn’t have been him. It shouldn’t have been him, not when it’s millions of dollars just for one respawn. He’s already damaged, he isn’t good at anything, he was so completely dead and he just wants to lie down and let the darkness take him again.

He was dead.

It isn’t right to be back. It doesn’t feel right; it feels like he’s been dragged unwilling from his grave, all his pieces forced back together and shoved into a uniform. He doesn’t—he doesn’t want to be here. He shouldn’t have been brought back.

It probably should have been anyone else.

But Jimmy’s back, now, and he has to stop hurting and get back to the fight.

He doesn’t have another choice.

[fossilizedhysterics]

angel Ɛ✦3

[mayoiayasep]

random tag game sponsored by the fact that i love seeing people ramble about music in the tags: name your favorite voice actor/character from a musical anime/music project/etc and why you like them so much!

[marinecorvid]

blorbos from my brain

[kumakuma-circus]

just randomly remembered that during my like 10+ attempts at the shadow yukiko fight i more or less consistently ran out of revival beads so yosuke was just dead (well unconscious but whatever) on the ground for like half the fight gfhfjvhfhfhd-

[rllybadfanfic]

You know what, actually? As a writer, I just keep going back to writing the things that people comment on. I had one fic that I was so excited for and it got absolutely zero reception and you know what? I haven't written anything on it since. I have another that I updated after a couple years, immediate enthusiastic response, I haven't been able to stop writing for it.

If you like a fic, leave a comment. That could be the difference between seeing it finished or seeing more from that author in your fandom in general.

I actually kind of regret signing up for a fandom event in one fandom bc I'd rather be writing this fic for another bc the other fandom reliably comments more and it is a spike of endorphins every time. That is especially effective for me bc I have ADHD, the 'can't produce endorphins correctly' disorder.

If you don't know what to comment, literally just key smash or leave a smiley face or quote your favorite line. You could literally leave the same comment on every fic or every chapter, it doesn't matter as long as you leave something. It's just to show that you were there and the time you spent meant something to you.

Thank you to every single person who comments on fics, you are really making someone's day.

And P.S. to fic writers, when you get a comment, responding goes a long way in making people want to continue to comment. Even if you just slap a 'Thanks for reading!' and/or a 'I'm glad you liked it!' when appropriate.

Fandom is about community interaction, so don't be afraid to interact with your community!

[arttsuka]

Hey, saw you wanted to talk. So I have a question for ya.

What is you most favourite fandom (as of now or overall) and why?

Info dump away. Or just state a simple reason as to why. Whichever you choose, I'll listen for sure! ✨️

Hmmm, that's a hard question.

I've been in a lot of fandoms over the years (I was really invested in some, like, really invested). I can't really say I've been in any bad fandoms actually (worst thing was when I was in the bnha fandom. It was fine but the hate that was directed towards the fans drove me away).

The star trek fandom has treated me pretty well (and honestly it's admirable how 55 years after tos ended there're still so many people invested). Everyone is so talented and so nice, I wish I could be a bigger part of it (although I can say I've drawn a lot of things for star trek so far)

One other fandom I adore (but sadly haven't made much to contribute to it) is the ace attorney one. Easily the fandom with some of the better fics I've ever read. Again so many talented people and I haven't had any bad interactions with it so far apart from this.

I've been dying to share this. My first 'hate' anon ever. I was still pretty new to actually having a tumblr account and posting when I got it. Why did I get it? I liked a post that said something like 'the first trilogy is better written than the apollo justice trilogy' and someone went through the people who liked that post and started sending anonymous hate asks. Pretty pathetic idk. I keep it in my ask box.

But yeah, all the fandoms I've been have been pretty nice.

Honorable mentions: lupin iii, night at the museum and gravity falls.

[spirirsstuff]

nobody asked but here’s the thing i alluded to earlier. shirtless guy under the cut

[hydrossity-zone]

you telling me other people dont keep the same special interest theyve had since they were 9. whadda hell

[theladyfae]

nothing to me will ever be more iconic than my beloved mutual managing to get me so invested in a (rarepair) ship for a media i had no previous interaction with that i was actively making my own headcanons abt their potential relationship dynamic and making song associations and engaging in others’ brainrot for months before i ever even considered getting in to said media. and now a year later i’m finally writing fic for them but still know next to nothing abt what they’re like in canon cause i still haven’t made it to that part of the story, the memories of the shared delusion are genuinely the only thing keeping me going.

[nooradeservedbetter]

.