This is hard. It’s the worst, and I never imagined myself back here, again. I’ve put myself in a gauntlet, I sprint down it–all brimming with feral bliss–but it only grows longer. It stretches out before me, wide and vast as space, sharp-edged with the ice-shards of stars, and pockets of anti-matter that make my heart flutter.
I love fanfiction. It got me through high school. But after my first year of college, I found a community , one that didn’t exist on the internet (or with a group of friends I sadly had to leave behind when I moved miles and miles away), beautiful and glittery and full of highs and lows–I no longer had to retreat to find warmth. But does anyone really move on from the things that grab their heart?
For five years, I’ve done a good job of hiding from all this, this great temptation and weight (because sometimes fandom is a weight, in fact, often it is). I’ve had books and stories to write, three albums to craft and record and release. There’s been no time for the great, seductive time-suck that is fanfiction, fanart, fanvids, and beautiful, beautiful gifs like this one that make me crumple up and grin grin grin (and cry):
(gifs reaped from ikolsim)
And then I saw THOR: The Dark World, and something broke off in me. And maybe I’m broken now, or maybe it’s more like that breakage has freed me. Right now, its all so new and raw and bloody that I just don’t know. All I know is that it didn’t hit me right away–sure I was amused by Loki’s quick grin and games. And I thought that was it. But then, I got on tumblr and I found this–this mass of art and stories, and really, since it’s all Loki related, it’s all just trickery and I should have known.
This fandom has a trickster god for a heart–I should have known there’d be no escape.