background by @simonesheri1 on deviant art and pfp by canva. she/her pronouns, please! I'm dancingdandelions on AO3, quinntessentialquixotic on Quotev ♡
fandom etiquette as a whole died when people who didn’t grow up on fandoms became stans during lockdown, yes, but why am i seeing people openly mocking fics on twitter. why am i seeing screenshots of fics with captions like “bro what is this 😭.” why am i seeing people mock fic writers for not knowing how sports or theater or college or any other organization operates in the real world.
“college is absolutely nothing like this” “why are we writing four people on the team scoring a hat trick in one game” “so tech work is nothing like this, hope that helps!”
if you don’t like a fic, and if you can’t suspend your belief enough to enjoy a fic that exaggerates or ignores real-world orgs, you don’t have to read it. you don’t have to screenshot it and put it on blast for twitter. you don’t have to post a link to it in the replies. the back button is literally there on your phone. it’s not giving baby’s first fandom anymore, it’s giving entitled asshole and it isn’t as cute as you think it is.
It's funny how the same people who complain about not finding enough fanfiction content are the ones publicly ranting about authors and mocking their kinks or their way of writing.
You wanna know why there's not enough content? Because creators are terrified of putting their free labor out there, only to have people like you critiquing their - entirely free and optional, mind you! - pieces when you could be scrolling instead.
"When the author writes y/n as-" grab a pen and do it yourself.
"It's just my opinion because I find it weird-" then think it, don't post it. Why are you so possessed by the need to publicly insult someone doing hobby work?
I swear, I just stumbled upon a post that had tens of thousands of reblogs and hundreds of comments where everyone just kept piling on fanfic writers. Whether it's a trope, or the use of some words, it doesn't matter: y'all really out there dining for free and then spitting in the chef's face.
If you can vent in several paragraphs, you can also just scroll and mind your business. I can't believe it has to be said that you're an asshole if you nitpick someone's literal fun.
…walk up to someone who plays video games in their free time, and you go, "you're not farming efficiently in Stardew Valley. Did you even read a guide beforehand? Also, your romance choice is so weird",
…take a cookie from a hobbyist baker and tell them, "I'll be honest, this has way too much flour. It's gritty and crumbling, not even close to a store-bought version",
…receive art from someone who's only curious about drawing, and you respond, "ha, it's true when they say artists can't draw hands! Let me show this to my friends, they'll find it hilarious",
…approach someone who just started crocheting and say, "man, what's up with all these beginners doing silly, pointless squares? Why don't you just go for, like, a sweater?",
you'd be considered an asshat by everyone around. So, how comes writing as a hobby is somehow exempt from this social rule?
You're entitled to your preferences, and you have the freedom to judge things with your own head. Let's not pretend, however, that making online posts, tagging them for every fandom in order to get as many eyes on it as possible, and shaming authors in them is not textbook bullying.
It's a mockery, a spectacle meant to ridicule the very people you consume free content from - and way too many of you are partaking in this behavior in 2026.
As you push open the door to the café, you shiver, pulling your fuzzy coat tightly around your body. The door closes behind you and you glance around, taking in the cozy café for the nth time.
Killer is idly throwing and catching a knife in his hands until he sees you, casually setting the weapon aside. His Soul transforms into a light pink and he gives you a big grin. "heeeya. couldn't sleep again?"
You can help but smile back, shaking your head as you head to the counter. "Unfortunately, it seems like I'm destined to have a backwards sleep schedule. It's a good thing this place is only open at night."
"you could say it's fate," he winks one of his empty eyesockets.
Laughing softly, your eyes observe the empty store. "By the way, where's Horror and Dust?"
"dusty's takin' out the trash and probably outside for a smoke break. horror is in the kitchen, i think." He rears his skull back to check in the back of the store, past the open doorway. "oi, horror! your little lamb is here!"
There's a huge clang as Horror presumably drops something. Several more loud noises follow as he scrambles to get himself together before he appears out of the kitchen, his eyelights on you. "...hi." As he takes in your form, the black pinprick in the middle of his red eyelights expands, not unlike a cat's.
You smile kindly at him, "hullo. How's your night been?"
He takes a moment to respond, gathering his courage. "...better, now that you...you're here." A warm red blush spreads across his cheekbones as he gazes at you.
"Awh, that's so sweet of you." You can't help the smile (and slight blush) that comes across your face.
Killer sighs dramatically, "you're supposed to be paying attention to me!" He demands, "what's your order, darling?"
You giggle, "uhm...I'm thinking..." You blink, "well, shit, I'm actually conflicted on what to get..." Groaning, you lean on the counter, glancing at both Horror and Killer. "What do you guys think? Should I get some hot chocolate or some warmed, spiced milk?"
The latter answers immediately, "hot chocolate, of course." He smirks, leaning against the cashier. "after all, your drink should be as sweet as you are."
Choking, you clear your throat, flustered. "Damn, that's...that's..." You avert your eyes. "That's certainly something..." You clear your throat again.
"i think the milk would be better. it's less heavy and it's proven to help people fall asleep." Horror counters, his working eyesocket narrowing at Killer.
"It seems we're at an impasse," you frown, grumbling. "Oh, hey, I know! Can you guys get Dust and Nightmare, please? I know there's four of you, but you can maybe come to an agreement...?" You ask, hopeful.
The two of them stare at you for a moment before mumbling various forms of agreement, a blush staining both of their cheekbones. Horror leaves the front counter first, going into the kitchen and to Nightmare's office whilst Killer finds Dust, who should be outside.
You wait patiently, taking off your coat, since the café is heated decently. Setting it on the back of a chair, you lean down to check on the pastries in the display case, your stomach growling as your mouth waters. "I should get something to eat..." You mumble to yourself.
It's almost as if it's perfect timing since the four monster skeletons soon join you at the front of the shop. You straighten yourself, smiling at all of them. “Welcome back…and good evening, Nightmare, Dust.”
Nightmare greets you pleasantly, “Good evening, my dear.”
Dust remains silent, glaring at his feet. You glance at him, curious and a tad concerned. However, before you can open your mouth to speak, he interrupts you. “killer told me that you don't know what kinda drink you want. i’m agreeing with him, by the way. i think you should have the hot chocolate. it's as sweet as you a-”
“loooooser, i already used that line!” Killer cackles, slapping the back of Dust’s skull, causing him to glare at him.
“what.”
Killer winks.
“bitch.”
You're unable to stifle the small giggle that escapes your mouth as Nightmare separates the two of them with his tentacles. “Behave, or I'll toss both of you in the dungeons.” He warns sternly, glaring at the two of them in frustration. Nightmare then turns to you, “My apologies, love, my employees don't know how to shut up.”
“O- Oh, no…it's alright.” You smile at him, amused. “Makes it more fun for me.”
He laughs, smiling softly at you. “If you say so. But with the decision of your drink, I do believe that milk is the best choice, served with honey and cinnamon, of course.”
“Mm…” you sigh. “Yeah, that sounds really nice. I think I'll have that and a couple of cookies.” You turn to Horror. “I'm assuming you made them..?”
He nods shyly and you reply with a gentle smile, “then I'll know it's going to be good.”
You go to get your wallet out of your purse, but Nightmare stops you. “It's on the house. After all, you're our favourite customer.”
You can't help the blushes that spreads across your cheeks and the warm, fuzzy feeling inside of you. “Thanks…you guys really are the best.”
He has a fatal disease called FIP that's basically COVID for cats and there is no cure. He was just a baby, only seven months old.
I'll forever miss him, but I'm glad I was able to give him a happy life when I could. He got to stay with his littermates, all the treats and food he wanted, all the pets and cuddles he wanted, and as much playtime as he wanted, company by our older cats. My family and I held him the entire time at the vet, giving him all the pets and snuggles for the last time. I kissed his head goodbye after he passed.
I'll always miss my baby.
The last picture is me holding him before he was put to sleep. I'm glad he's not in pain anymore, but it pains my heart he was taken from such a young age.
I'm emotionally exhausted from dealing with all of this and I've been crying my eyes out for hours.
~ 🐇
Hi cutie, I'm so terribly sorry to hear that. Putting your pet to sleep is such a devastating experience - even when it's for the best. It feels like a great injustice, a bitter robbery, especially when they're plucked from us before their time.
If it offers you any comfort, know that little Max is not alone up there! All my rat boys are probably keeping him company already. They're hanging out. Most likely up to no good, but we gotta let them have their fun. We'll meet them again someday, and until that happens, they'll stay in our hearts. :)
Thank you for the comfort, Ozz :) he looks so cute with your rats!
I'm having my Gramma make a pillow with a collage of pictures of him, along with the colour of his collar as the case. My father is going to engrave his food dish with his name and we're going to have a shrine for all of our cats that have passed, including this little guy <3
As a white American, I felt very happy when my Japanese teacher (who's from the Gunma prefecture) called me "very Japanese". I wanted to know your thoughts on the comment! Is it high praise? Or just a normal observation? So curious! :)
Thank you for your question!
To give the conclusion first, I think your teacher meant it as a compliment.
For people in Japan who feel pride in japan, saying “very Japanese” is often meant positively.
Especially in this case, your teacher may have felt a personal connection with you and praised you because they felt you truly understood each other.
That said, from my personal point of view, calling someone from another country “very Japanese” can sometimes feel uncomfortable depending on how the person receives it.
As an American, you likely have pride in being American, so hearing “very Japanese” might have felt a bit strange. Did it make you feel uneasy at all? Were you okay?
Japan is a quiet and reserved country, for better or worse.
Still, I believe your teacher was thinking of positive qualities often associated with Japanese people—such as being righteous, polite, and considerate—and was evaluating you in that light.
In other words, they were saying that you are very courteous and respectful.
I actually felt very happy to receive the compliment! I don't have much pride being an American right now, especially with the current state of the political world ^^" but I always feel happy when people from other cultures give me compliments!
Like one time, I ate in a Mexican restaurant with my mother and I ordered Birria tacos (they're really good!! You should try them sometime!) with the proper pronunciation. The server, a Mexican lady, said "DAMN, for a little white girl, you have good pronunciation!" And it made me happy :)
My sick kitten opening up to me for one of the first times by purring and giving me kisses :)
Max has an eye infection he's receiving treatment for. However, before he got sick, he was around a bunch of new people for a long time, as well as a vet visit right after. This (along with my family and sometimes me accidentally stepping on him bc he blends in), causes him to be very skittish. He rarely comes out, barely eats anything, and is very wary. So this improvement means a lot to me.
A videogame where your character plays a trumpet, and you can either play it as a rhythm game where you need to hit all the notes right in the exact right order in order to be such a lovely musician that people will let you do whatever you want. Or you need to figure out how to play it so badly that you can use it as a noise weapon. There's a skill tree.
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