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MINCINGBEAST

BROWNCOAT ID#:36403   SINCE: 2009.05.06 10:17   LAST HERE: 2013.04.27 02:34   CREDITS: 37

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I AM A SISSY

Tuesday, September 22, 2009 2:04:22 PM

I descended into shipdom by degrees. This is a cautionary tale, and also, a way to grant myself permission to write.

Not that long ago, I was sure that all fanfic writers were raging Suethors, only slightly more tolerable than furries and cosplayers. I suspect that if I met someone who admitted to being a fic'er, I would have given them a wedgie or a purple nurple (assuming there was no handy trash can to stuff them in). But one day, I took a wrong turn on the interweb, and ended up here.

Much to my horror, I found myself reading Firefly fanfic and enjoying it. Not just enjoying it, but growing emotionally invested in it. Whats worse, the stories I enjoyed most were...romances. Screw plot and action. Just give me girl stuff. Mal and Inara and their stupid imaginary feelings enthralled me. I found myself eagerly following Clio and Aliasse, and shaking my fists at the heaven when their updates were slow.

I began to doubt myself. Were fan ficers perverse Suethors, or more like the anonymous storytellers that left us the Arthurian cycle? Were they douches pumping out shitty fantasy narratives to fap to, or creative geniuses making magic out of pop culture leftovers? Or is this a false black-and-white distinction, like those made by my favorite petty thief?

So now I'm a Mal/Inara shipper, happy to chew the same mouthful of story over and over again, so long as nobody catches me doing it. Mal/Inara are frozen in time and incomplete. People breathe life into them, for a moment, but there is never closure. Miserable shippers will recreate and relive moments that never happened, but should have, in perpetuity. The petty thief and whore will get togther a million times, not get together a million times; they will endlessly loop through fluff and angst. None of its real, but all of it matters to me, and I hate that.

Now, I have hit a low point, and am fumbling with my own fanfic. I have begun to doubt my manhood, and live in fear that my peers will discover this new interest of mine.

Angst suits my tastes--I like my Mal/Inara unhappy. I want to continue the heartbreak and tension, not resolve it. To hell with catharsis. But secretly, I know I want them to live happily ever after and have dozens of babies. It makes me sick to learn this about myself.

So anyway, I am a sissy, and I do not know where I go from here.

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