One of the latest fads to wash onto the shores of YouTube comes from TikTok, a grander version of Musical.ly that gives users an array of editing options to make short, Vine-like videos. In one corner of YouTube, TikTok’s biggest fans upload challenge compilations and weekly updates, each playing like a more elaborate Vine supercut — something you can watch on repeat without getting bored. Type in “TikTok compilation” into YouTube’s search bar, and thousands upon thousands of answers generate. Videos have anywhere from 500,000 to more than a million views.

Another, perhaps louder corner — one which has come to include some of YouTube’s biggest commentators, react channels, and memesters — has become obsessed with the app’s more cringe-inducing clips. These compilations, which usually consist of awkward teens or adults whose performances are less impressive, are a not-so-subtle attempt to mock TikTok users who fall outside the app’s core user base of cute, cool kids with impressive editing skills. These compilations are built around older adults or people with traditionally geeky interests to mock the idea of TikTok and what it looks like from the outside.

It is easy to roll your eyes at TikTok. It’s what we tend to do with any new app that pulls in a mostly young audience — people originally rolled their eyes at Vine, too. It can be difficult to embrace an entire ecosystem of young creators whose community is built around content designed exclusively for their own entertainment. TikTok succeeds on outrageous stunts, new music, and niche interests — but that’s also what makes it such an inviting place to hang out.

I’ve been using TikTok for a few months now, and it’s quickly become the only app that gives me unbridled joy anymore. I’ve come to love TikTok, cringe content and all, in part because it reminds me so much of what Vine was back in its heyday. We could always use a little bit more Vine-like fun in our lives.

All those challenge videos you like? Probably TikTok

Some of this year’s best viral challenges — “Karma’s a bitch” to “Why do good girls like bad guys?” — are all TikTok challenges. They’re funny and charming, but there’s something magical about how these videos play that makes each one so incredibly fun to watch. Take one of the latest challenges: shuffling up a set of stairs. Nothing about that sounds particularly inventive, but watching a sea of talented kids (and some dorky, but adorable adults) pull off their best dancing moves to create a bouncy and peppy video is endlessly entertaining.

It’s reminiscent of Vine’s earliest “magic” days, when editing outperformed slapstick humor, and six-second videos with impressive magic tricks went viral. TikTok’s editing suite allows for similar videos, but with even more pizzazz. Challenges only get better when fast or impressive editing is incorporated, like in the recent shoe challenge. Set against the backdrop of a generic pop song, teens sit or stand in front of their cameras and incorporate quick outfit changes to the song’s beat. It’s dorky, but sweet, and there’s just enough intrigue over the next outfit that will appear in the video to keep your attention captivated.

Challenges make up TikTok’s soul. The community gathers around them, trying to one-up each other and collaborate with friends. While some TikTok users have more followers than others, like any social app, participating in challenges allows anyone to find an audience and feel like they’re part of the community. The way Vine allowed users to submit their videos to an enthusiastic community pool, TikTok leaves room for even small-time users to bask in the applause of their peers.

It’s an amateur’s game

And, like Vine, everything about TikTok teeters on the edge of amateur professionalism — and it’s that juxtaposition that makes the app so bewitching. Impressive editing is paired with the childlike acting and lip-synching the app and its challenges call for. It’s gleeful and adorable. It doesn’t matter if aspects of any given performance are cringe-inducing. TikTok isn’t about perfection; it’s about belonging to a movement, and to multiple communities that just want to express themselves through dancing, singing, acting, and collaboration. These little aspects of TikTok’s culture make it feel more authentic than heavily edited YouTube videos, or Instagram clips that we all scroll by after a couple of seconds.

Everyone on TikTok is, for the most part, just having fun. Users are riffing on the game of the moment, or creating a new one — the weirder your contribution, the better. It’s a rare social app that isn’t infested with hateful rhetoric; while it’s not a perfect place, hanging out on TikTok doesn’t make me unbelievably sad or angry. I’m not left frustrated after scrolling through for five or ten minutes. TikTok makes me laugh in a way that I haven’t experienced since Vine.

Something for everyone

There are communities for everyone on TikTok, making it feel universally welcome for everyone. Cosplayers have found a home on the app, along with new wave emo kids and the anime obsessed. There’s a place for SoundCloud rap lovers, and those who want to show off their latest dance choreography. There’s a place for pets and comedians to test out their latest material. TikTok is just eclectic enough that you’re never bored, and full of smaller niches for people looking to find their communities.

TikTok feels inviting in a way that hasn’t existed since Vine. It’s a fun time-waster that’s quickly become my go-to app when I wake up in the morning or go to bed at night. It’s joyful and, in a time when opening up Twitter often begins with preparing for a string of bad news, it’s good to have an app that makes you laugh more than anything else. We may never get Vine back, but at least we have TikTok.