Utter, utter dorkiness.
Sum up your former/current fandoms in a few sentences, as if they were human beings/very convincing sockpuppets on your flist
I’m cheating a bit, because I haven’t gotten involved in a large number of fandoms - and by “involved”, I mean, “talked with people on teh intrawebs about them and/or written fic about them”. So this is basically “movies/tv shows I was seriously into”. I’m also stealing the idea of talking like they’re boyfriends, because …well, ok, they kind of are, on some level. Whorey boyfriends, who get around a lot. And I haven’t broken up with any of these. I hang out with most of them pretty regular.
So guess away! Although golly_politely and conanthebarbie should be totally barred from guessing, actually. Y’all aren't allowed to guess more than two.
1. You? You were my first. I was obessessed, even by fannish standards. Only one of my friends understood, and I was glad to share you with her. You made me write the first fanfic of my life, and for that, I deeply apologize. There are phrases I can’t hear without thinking immediately of you and only you.
And then we drifted apart. I got older, you went away for twenty years, though I still thought of you quite a lot. And when we found each other again, it just wasn’t the same. I tried to defend you, I did! But alas, the magic was almost totally gone. Where was your snark? Your scoundrely anti-hero tendencies, your brave, strong, mouthiness? Gone, and instead, whining, pouting,treacle-drenched, nauseating, wholly boring love. If not your bitchin’ fight skills and the unbelievable hotness of your wise mentor moments, I’d never laid eyes on you again. I shake my fist at you in anger, but I can’t hate you. I can only remember you how you were back in the good ol’ days, and wish you’d aged better.
2. Oh, you were weird. Weird and snarky and creepy and complex and brain-hurty and like nothing I’d ever seen. There’s a part of you I can’t look at even now , it freaks me out so badly, and not many can say that. It was so, so good for a long time, keeping me guessing, making me paranoid in a good way, and occasionally, making me laugh until my sides hurt. Man, you were good when you were funny.
And then …it all went to hell. Oh, don’t look at me like that; you know exactly what I’m talking about. I held on, hoping you’d answer all those questions, maybe get better, find your creepy-ass groove again - but I was a fool. And I dumped you. I’m not afraid to admit it - I dumped you, because all you ever did was lead me down dark alleys, promising to whisper profound secrets into my ear, and then you’d leave me there, alone and confused and having to hitch a ride home and wonder what the hell happened to you to make you treat me like this. You taught me that nothing is what you think it is at first glance, that conspiracy lurks behind every corner, and most of all, you taught me not to trust anything. Ever. Especially you.
3. I loved you insanely and without reason from instant I laid eyes on you. I stalked you, and was utterly distraught that one time we couldn’t meet up, because even then, I already knew you were leaving, and we’d never get that time back. I loved your grittiness, snark, old-fashioned sensibilities, cyncisim and joy and protectiveness and mercenary selfishness and flat-out goofiness. I was crushed when you went away. I knew you’d never return.
I talked to others who lusted after you like I did. I proselytized, extolling your virtues until I’m sure everyone was sick of hearing about you.
And then, holy shit, you came back to me. You came back. First just little ol' you, like you were before; then you pumped up, and all sorts of people were looking at you now, people who hadn't known you in the beginning. That was ok; I wanted them to love you, too. I'd always be one who knew you way back when.
But what did you do? You tore out my fucking heart, that’s what. You tore out my heart, made me cry like a four-year-old, and made me wish you were still around to do it on a weekly basis. Honestly, I prefer you in small doses - you were a little less subtle when you got bigger and your distinctive personality suffered a bit- but I’ll take you any way I can get you. I still love you insanely and unreasonably. Even when you break my fucking heart, you bastard.
4. So far, my only lesbian experience. I loved you pretty deeply; again the snark, but especially the character development that progressed at an absolutely geological rate. Goddamn, but you’re good at that (both you and 5, actually). Who’d have thought that we’d have gone from high school to…to that? Twists, turns, utter glorious ridiculousness slapped up against angst, trauma, silence, love, hate, rage, betrayal, moments that made me stare at you with my mouth hanging open, saying, “You did NOT just do that!” And of course, the hottest librarian in Christiandom. But you started annoying me; at first just at times, and every relationship goes through rough spots, so I rode it out. We still had good times, but there near the end, I don’t know what the hell was going on in your mind. And when the end came, I was sad. But even while I though we ended on a good note, there was still a little tug of “someone slap her, please.” I still love you, though, with a warm, comfortable love.
5. The younger sibling of the above, only way older. All the same things hold true, except that honestly, you never got on my nerves like she did. Except for that one thing, which was truly annoying, but you didn’t keep it up for very long. You were darker and harsher and more cynical and damn, you didn’t screw around, but went straight for the jugular.. Call me sick, but I like that, a lot. And you did occasionally shove me screaming into extreme squickiness. I’m a little queasy just thinking about it, actually.
The end - oh, the end was horrifying and brutal, and again, I was crying - no, wailing. I don’t even know what happened, and honestly, I don’t want to know, but it was spectacular to watch. I don’t think I want you back; I think that would ruin the wonderful ambiguousness of the way we ended it.
6. You. I’ve known you since I was pretty young, and I’ve never really forgotten you, though we drifted apart for a time. And you are puzzling to me, in some ways. Though I’m sure someone out there is going to pummel me for saying this, there are those I like better. There are those I know a hell of a lot better. In your pure form, you are snark- and mostly cynicism free; you don’t have the depth of development to every single character that I prefer, you’re far more noble than my usual fare, and sometimes (I’m so, so sorry to say this in front of all these people) I have to let my mind drift when you talk until you get back around to the interesting parts. But OMG, no-one inspires me to write like you do. Once you and I met back up again, you started yammering away and you haven’t quit yet. You’ve introduced me to wonderful friends that I’d never have met without you, and you kicked me in the ass and got me to write, write, write. Please don’t stop talking.
7. OMG, I want to BE you. But only parts of you. Not the square-jawed, bland, noble part; not the too-spunky-and-independent-for-your-setting-though-it’s-fun-to-watch-anyway part. Oh, you know the part I want to be - the convoluted, confusing, wild, weaving, daft part that always seems to have a plan and ridiculously high dex, not to mention booze; the part that gets away with anything. The part that snarks and acts all proper and well-bred, but then veers off and does strange things like enabling your desire to ignore the bounds of the law, then gets all pissed off and bitter and scruffy when that goes so very, very wrong. I love that you started out in high spirits, romping about and gleefully wreaking playful havoc, then took a sharp turn to explore the darker areas a bit more deeply. I know we’re not going to have much more time together, and I hope you don’t get pulled under by a desire to outdo yourself, because that would be very disappointing.
And..ummm…..please don’t break my heart, like some people on this list have done. I will accept any reversions to your original self; just …yeah. Keep all your parts, is what I’m saying.
I’m cheating a bit, because I haven’t gotten involved in a large number of fandoms - and by “involved”, I mean, “talked with people on teh intrawebs about them and/or written fic about them”. So this is basically “movies/tv shows I was seriously into”. I’m also stealing the idea of talking like they’re boyfriends, because …well, ok, they kind of are, on some level. Whorey boyfriends, who get around a lot. And I haven’t broken up with any of these. I hang out with most of them pretty regular.
So guess away! Although golly_politely and conanthebarbie should be totally barred from guessing, actually. Y’all aren't allowed to guess more than two.
1. You? You were my first. I was obessessed, even by fannish standards. Only one of my friends understood, and I was glad to share you with her. You made me write the first fanfic of my life, and for that, I deeply apologize. There are phrases I can’t hear without thinking immediately of you and only you.
And then we drifted apart. I got older, you went away for twenty years, though I still thought of you quite a lot. And when we found each other again, it just wasn’t the same. I tried to defend you, I did! But alas, the magic was almost totally gone. Where was your snark? Your scoundrely anti-hero tendencies, your brave, strong, mouthiness? Gone, and instead, whining, pouting,treacle-drenched, nauseating, wholly boring love. If not your bitchin’ fight skills and the unbelievable hotness of your wise mentor moments, I’d never laid eyes on you again. I shake my fist at you in anger, but I can’t hate you. I can only remember you how you were back in the good ol’ days, and wish you’d aged better.
2. Oh, you were weird. Weird and snarky and creepy and complex and brain-hurty and like nothing I’d ever seen. There’s a part of you I can’t look at even now , it freaks me out so badly, and not many can say that. It was so, so good for a long time, keeping me guessing, making me paranoid in a good way, and occasionally, making me laugh until my sides hurt. Man, you were good when you were funny.
And then …it all went to hell. Oh, don’t look at me like that; you know exactly what I’m talking about. I held on, hoping you’d answer all those questions, maybe get better, find your creepy-ass groove again - but I was a fool. And I dumped you. I’m not afraid to admit it - I dumped you, because all you ever did was lead me down dark alleys, promising to whisper profound secrets into my ear, and then you’d leave me there, alone and confused and having to hitch a ride home and wonder what the hell happened to you to make you treat me like this. You taught me that nothing is what you think it is at first glance, that conspiracy lurks behind every corner, and most of all, you taught me not to trust anything. Ever. Especially you.
3. I loved you insanely and without reason from instant I laid eyes on you. I stalked you, and was utterly distraught that one time we couldn’t meet up, because even then, I already knew you were leaving, and we’d never get that time back. I loved your grittiness, snark, old-fashioned sensibilities, cyncisim and joy and protectiveness and mercenary selfishness and flat-out goofiness. I was crushed when you went away. I knew you’d never return.
I talked to others who lusted after you like I did. I proselytized, extolling your virtues until I’m sure everyone was sick of hearing about you.
And then, holy shit, you came back to me. You came back. First just little ol' you, like you were before; then you pumped up, and all sorts of people were looking at you now, people who hadn't known you in the beginning. That was ok; I wanted them to love you, too. I'd always be one who knew you way back when.
But what did you do? You tore out my fucking heart, that’s what. You tore out my heart, made me cry like a four-year-old, and made me wish you were still around to do it on a weekly basis. Honestly, I prefer you in small doses - you were a little less subtle when you got bigger and your distinctive personality suffered a bit- but I’ll take you any way I can get you. I still love you insanely and unreasonably. Even when you break my fucking heart, you bastard.
4. So far, my only lesbian experience. I loved you pretty deeply; again the snark, but especially the character development that progressed at an absolutely geological rate. Goddamn, but you’re good at that (both you and 5, actually). Who’d have thought that we’d have gone from high school to…to that? Twists, turns, utter glorious ridiculousness slapped up against angst, trauma, silence, love, hate, rage, betrayal, moments that made me stare at you with my mouth hanging open, saying, “You did NOT just do that!” And of course, the hottest librarian in Christiandom. But you started annoying me; at first just at times, and every relationship goes through rough spots, so I rode it out. We still had good times, but there near the end, I don’t know what the hell was going on in your mind. And when the end came, I was sad. But even while I though we ended on a good note, there was still a little tug of “someone slap her, please.” I still love you, though, with a warm, comfortable love.
5. The younger sibling of the above, only way older. All the same things hold true, except that honestly, you never got on my nerves like she did. Except for that one thing, which was truly annoying, but you didn’t keep it up for very long. You were darker and harsher and more cynical and damn, you didn’t screw around, but went straight for the jugular.. Call me sick, but I like that, a lot. And you did occasionally shove me screaming into extreme squickiness. I’m a little queasy just thinking about it, actually.
The end - oh, the end was horrifying and brutal, and again, I was crying - no, wailing. I don’t even know what happened, and honestly, I don’t want to know, but it was spectacular to watch. I don’t think I want you back; I think that would ruin the wonderful ambiguousness of the way we ended it.
6. You. I’ve known you since I was pretty young, and I’ve never really forgotten you, though we drifted apart for a time. And you are puzzling to me, in some ways. Though I’m sure someone out there is going to pummel me for saying this, there are those I like better. There are those I know a hell of a lot better. In your pure form, you are snark- and mostly cynicism free; you don’t have the depth of development to every single character that I prefer, you’re far more noble than my usual fare, and sometimes (I’m so, so sorry to say this in front of all these people) I have to let my mind drift when you talk until you get back around to the interesting parts. But OMG, no-one inspires me to write like you do. Once you and I met back up again, you started yammering away and you haven’t quit yet. You’ve introduced me to wonderful friends that I’d never have met without you, and you kicked me in the ass and got me to write, write, write. Please don’t stop talking.
7. OMG, I want to BE you. But only parts of you. Not the square-jawed, bland, noble part; not the too-spunky-and-independent-for-your-setting-though-it’s-fun-to-watch-anyway part. Oh, you know the part I want to be - the convoluted, confusing, wild, weaving, daft part that always seems to have a plan and ridiculously high dex, not to mention booze; the part that gets away with anything. The part that snarks and acts all proper and well-bred, but then veers off and does strange things like enabling your desire to ignore the bounds of the law, then gets all pissed off and bitter and scruffy when that goes so very, very wrong. I love that you started out in high spirits, romping about and gleefully wreaking playful havoc, then took a sharp turn to explore the darker areas a bit more deeply. I know we’re not going to have much more time together, and I hope you don’t get pulled under by a desire to outdo yourself, because that would be very disappointing.
And..ummm…..please don’t break my heart, like some people on this list have done. I will accept any reversions to your original self; just …yeah. Keep all your parts, is what I’m saying.