Boromir lives AU where instead of being around for the events of Two Towers and ROTK he just kind of shows up in Minas Tirith after the Ring is destroyed all bloody & bedraggled like ‘you GUYS i had to swim all the way back what the hELL’
It’s a good Monday when your friend is 20 minutes into the Guards! Guards! audiobook and is already coming to your office, giddily quoting bits of it to you while thanking you for recommending it.
Fandoms don’t die when their source material ends. Far from it. A fandom is what you make of it, and most fandoms don’t fully come into their own until long, long after their source canon has first been published, or released in theaters—or stops airing on television. If my years in fandom have taught me anything, it’s that you need to build the fandom you want. Keep on creating. Keep on connecting. That’s what fandom always has been. The fandom you love dies if you stop. The source of official content might stop, and sometimes it’s just time for that to happen. Pick up where it leaves off. Find new ways of parsing, reshaping, and transforming what already exists. Feel what you need to feel, but don’t stop if letting go isn’t what you want. Among many other things, I’m devoted to asingle novel that was published 28 years ago. We occasionally get, say, a radio or television adaptation, but those several hundred precious pages are all the canon we have. The rest of what fills a fandom that has lasted nearly 30 years, glorious and constant and endlessly surprising? Is us.
Very true!
One thing that I admire about you is not only your consistent work ethic, but also your dedication to your works. It’s amazing that even without much source material, you manage to make something out of it because it’s important to you.
Thanks for reminding me that fandom is what we choose it to be. We as fans have the power to keep it going for as long as we wish.
Thank you so much for being here! For me, fandom is about 80% what I create (and what others create), and only about 20% canon. Maybe I’m a heretic for not placing as much emphasis on canon worship (or even on actors in the case of visual media), but what means most to me is a) what I can make of it, and b) what people I get to interact and bond with.
Diagnosed with ALS and very little time left to live, this man donated his body to a medical school and wrote this letter to the students that will eventually practice on his body. I found this strangely wholesome.
Aziraphale has not shut up in thirty-four minutes. Crowley’s been counting.
He wonders if Aziraphale even remembers what it was they had been talking about when he started, which had been whether reality television really belonged to either side, or if it were just a thing humans had done all on their own. Crowley hadn’t been per se responsible for it, but he had taken credit for it in one of his reports; Aziraphale had then launched into a lengthy and surprisingly intense diatribe about its heavenly origins, which had not been especially persuasive considering that Aziraphale obviously does not have a very clear picture as to what television, reality or otherwise, actually is.
Now he is talking about bees something-or-other. Crowley has stopped listening.
He’s just watching. He’s warm and cosy and distracted, and he’s more than satisfied to just be watching.