I Think The Reason Cmblr Is So Active Despite The Show Being Being 20 Years Old Is Because It Appeals

i think the reason cmblr is so active despite the show being being 20 years old is because it appeals to obsessive neurodivergent people who cannot be normal about the things that they like

When I was a kid, maybe 14 or so (which is, you know, 20+ years ago), I belonged to a Yahoo! mailing list for an anime called Gundam Wing. It was mostly populated by other teens, of varying ages, as it was started by a teen and her friends. Eventually it migrated, when Yahoo! groups started as forums, and even branched off into non-GW related stuff in a second forum.

One of the things I remember the most clearly is the oldest person in the group. Her name was Steelsong. She was a 40-something Dom with a sub whose name we knew even though we knew nothing else. She ran her own fanfic archive because the web was still handmade HTML and navigated in webrings and I’m pretty sure Google didn’t exist or was only barely, barely launched and not well known. She was kind and patient and we loved her. She treated everyone on the group with the respect given any adult, even though most of the rest of the world was still treating us like we were children. Not teenagers even, but children. She never once condescended to any of us, never made our youth a barrier to her respect, never treated us like we were incapable of being full people or like we were less than her because we were young.

I remember that she hosted our fanfiction, as absolutely terrible as it was (and I still have some of it, I am WELL aware of how cringingly terrible it is, just absolute nonsense garbage), right there alongside of other fic that was soul-achingly beautiful. Not a separate section for her friends or for kids, just right there like we were good enough to feature alongside other authors. I never once received crit from her that I didn’t ask for, only support. Only love. I am still writing today partly because Steel was so kind about our fic, fanfic and original.

I remember that when I started doing clay sculpture, she commissioned a tiny pair of dragons from me, to support me doing artwork. She sent a check my mom cashed for me, and my mom helped me mail it when it was finished. It broke in transit, and Steel assured me that she mended it and that it was still beautiful. It was a small gold dragon curled up with a small silver dragon.

I remember that her patience knew no bounds. I remember that she was there for us, regardless of reason. When we wanted to know silly things like what to do with a single AA battery, she answered. When we had serious questions about sex, she answered.  When we had questions about writing, she taught us. When one of our group members, a young gay teen in Australia, ended up in the hospital and then stopped making posts, and we all knew what had happened, she let us talk to her about it because we couldn’t go to our own parents, even though we had just lost a friend.

She was not a replacement to my parents, but she was an extra parent, in some ways. A friend, certainly, but someone that had been through more life than we had and was willing to pass on knowledge if we asked for it. Someone older that we trusted with things that were too uncomfortable to go to our parents or teachers or whatever about, because we already knew she wasn’t going to judge us or something, and that we would get an honest answer.

I don’t know why I’m remembering this so hard tonight, and I’m not sure if there’s a point to sharing this, except that I know she’s gone now. She was ill the last time we spoke, and her site went down a long time ago, and I miss her. She was a huge influence on my life, then and now. She was hope, for me, that life as an adult didn’t have to be boring, it wouldn’t have to mean giving up the things I loved and Becoming Only Responsible With No Fun. Her presence meant I had hope I could still write and play with friends even when I wasn’t ‘a kid’ anymore. And she’s gone, and I miss her, and I wanted to share her from the perspective of youth, and the perspective over twenty years later has provided me.

And I think of her, when people go off about older folks being in fandom with younger folks. I’m an older folks now, or at least middle aged folks because there are certainly folks older than me still, but I wasn’t always. I’ve been here since i was a younger folks, and I know how much Steel’s presence and support meant to me, how much she helped not just me but everyone on that group. And I think of the people saying older folks don’t belong in fandom, and that they shouldn’t interact with younger folks at all, and I just think… I can’t agree. I needed that kind of solid presence in my life back then and even at the age I am now, I need the folks older than me to stay. I want them here.

So I guess, like, if you’re here and you’re 40 or 50 or 60 or 70 or 80 or whatever, I want you here in fandom with me, still. Your presence here is a comfort. It is hope. It is a reminder that life will continue to be fun, even as I get older, myself. And if you’re younger and you have this sort of elder in your groups, I hope that they are like Steel. I hope they are kind and patient and supportive, and that knowing them gives you hope for your own future. I hope in twenty years you look back and remember them fondly.

if you’re craving chocolate muffins after the olympic muffin man videos, jordan the stallion on tiktok has the recipe for you

Green thumb (dp x dc)

“Why won’t you grow?” Danny asked the little corner of fresh dirt he’d been allocated when he’d signed up for the community garden project. Sam had been the one to suggest it, and with significantly less ghost-fighting to do now that he’d moved away, it had seemed like a great new hobby.

“I gave you water, and all the other things Sam said to do, what more could you have wanted,” Danny said as he poked the desiccated stalk despondently.

Somewhere far off, there was the echo of screams, and something like a crash. Danny paid it no mind, thinking it might be an event or something starting. Gotham was a big city, and there was always something going on.

“I can’t tell Sam about this,” Danny sighed as he put his face in his hands. “She’d laugh at me.”

He sat in front of his failed tomato plants for a while longer before getting to his feet with a sigh. As he did, he turned to walk away, only to see a woman with bright red hair and greenish skin standing a few paces away. Behind her there was something like a cloud of something and Danny immediately stopped breathing.

Not having to breathe was definitely his favourite power ever, he hated hay fever.

“Hey,” Danny said with a little wave.

In response the woman raised an arm and a thick vine-looking thing shot out of the ground.

“Holy shit!” The halfa exclaimed. That was pretty cool. Controlling plants was seriously an awesome power, and majorly underrated if one listened to Sam’s rants.

Wait, controlling plants?

“Can you revive my tomato plants?” Danny asked the woman enthusiastically, before remembering himself. “Uh, please?”

The woman stopped moving and frowned.

“It’s just that I really tried to keep it alive, but this is the first time I’ve taken care of plants and I was really looking forward to fresh tomatoes,” the halfa babbled.

She tilted her head.

“Please? I can get you a smoothie in exchange, I know a great place, they also do ice cream.”

The woman’s lips twitched and then she waved her hand and continued walking.

Danny turned around to find his tomato plant green and alive.

“Oh my god, thank you!” He yelled, but she was already leaving.

Danny owed her the best smoothie in town.

Vicki Vale: Mr. Wayne are you Batman?

Bruce Wayne: What is a “Bat man?”

—

Vicki Vale: Mr. Drake are you Red Robin?

Tim Drake: Like the restaurant?

—

Vicki Vale: So Cassandra, are you Orphan?

Cassandra Cain: No I’m not an orphan. I have a dad.

—

Vicki Vale: Mr. Thomas are you Signal?

Duke Thomas: Am I what?

Vicki Vale: Are you the Bat Signal?

Duke Thomas: That is the stupidest question I’ve ever been asked.

—

Vicki Vale: Damian, are you Robin?

Damian Wayne: Tt, I am not a bird. Are you well, Ms. Vale? I’m concerned for your mental state.