I was introduced to shipping relatively recently. Like three years ago recently. And I ship a lot of characters. I ship like twenty characters. But one thing that always baffled me was that elusive OTP. Apparently everyone had an OTP. Some people had four thousand OTPs, which baffled me even more, since the O is supposed to stand for one. And yeah, my ships are adorable and all, but none of them evoked the sheer emotional destruction that is supposed to go hand in hand with an OTP.
I was introduced to Tumblr relatively recently. Like a year ago recently. And in that time, I saw so many posts (especially gifsets) about shows I hadn’t seen yet. Some I hadn’t even heard of. Like In the Flesh. From the posts, I discovered that In the Flesh was a romance show about high functioning zombies. I thought that seemed like an interesting take on the zombie genre, so I decided to watch it.
In the Flesh turned out not be a pure romance at all, but rather a general drama show. I’ve got to say, I’d probably be better off right now if it had just been a romance. Because my emotions are not okay! Anyone who knows me knows that I get really worked up about discrimination. And my feelings about its portrayal in fiction are pretty contradictory, as on one hand, I love the realism that it brings, but on the other hand, witnessing it makes me physically angry. X-Men did it with mutants. Dark Angel did it with transgenics. And In the Flesh is doing it with Partially Deceased Syndrome sufferers (the show’s medical term for zombies).
But the show isn’t all just anger.
And that’s where the the romance aspect comes into it. Despite the fact that quite a bit of my anger at the show revolves around the relationships between characters, they’re still so easy to get caught up in. Watching Kieren grow and learn to accept himself as a result of his relationship with Simon… Watching Simon struggle between between upholding his beliefs and honouring and protecting the man he loves… It drives me crazy. It’s beautiful and sad and maddening and grounding and inspiring all at once.
And if this show doesn’t get renewed for season three… If I am left with less than six hours of footage of my very first (and probably only) OTP… Oh I won’t exaggerate. I’ll just be very very sad.
Many a time, I have seen people describe a strong attraction of theirs as a fetish. I’m a bit iffy on that one. Now, I’m not trying to stop people from calling something a fetish if they’re attracted to it. If they feel comfortable with that label, then so be it. But to me, it just seems… deceptive to call something a fetish if it doesn’t actually turn you on (I will, however, accept the use of the term ‘turn-on’. Because that’s logical…).
If I were to be deceptive myself, and label something a fetish when it’s really not, then I would have a hell of a lot of fetishes. But I do not have a fetish for long necks, red hair on women, upturned noses, gay men, dark hair, physical vulnerabilities, androgyny, male ballet dancers, or Egyptian feet. Just a strong attraction. I would feel wrong describing any of those as fetishes.
Now when I write, I don’t write fanservice. Random pairings that don’t have much point? No thank you. Sex scenes? I’d much rather them occur off-screen, if at all. But I do write a fair bit of Caitservice. A fair few of my story attempts have actually started as pure Caitservice. If I have the opportunity to include one of the above things in my fiction, I bloody well will. Sometimes multiple of those things. But I will not refer to them in a sexual way, just as I do not think of them in a sexual way, and no way in hell will I call any of them a fetish.
The other day I was moving into the spare room, and I found a notebook in my closet. In it, it had something I had written many years ago (I think I must have been about 14 or so), and it was entitled ‘Romantic Boyfriend’s Guide to [My Name]’. So I thought I’d share it:
1. Stealing the Caitlyn Court street sign and giving it to me wrapped up as a present is probably the awesomest thing you could ever do.
2. Writing me a love song would have to be the most romantic.
3. My engagement ring must be white gold, preferably with a diamond about 3mm in diameter in the middle, with a smaller diamond on each side.
4. If you are a wicked-awesome graffiti artist, a romantic proposal is to paint “Marry me Caity” on a wall in big, fancy, colourful letters, and take me there, get down on one knee, and ask me (with a ring).
5. Otherwise, a romantic proposal would be to write it in a big heart in the sand on a nice beach, take me for a walk on the beach at sunset, and get down on one knee beside it and ask me (again, with that ring).
6. It would be really cool if you got me the fanciest engagement-like plastic/silver/steel ring in the world, put it in a fancy box, and proposed with that before I chose my own ring.
7. I will be very disappointed if your proposal includes pyjamas, a fight, a ring in a champagne glass, no ring at all, or anything incredibly boring. Or a half-assed effort.
8. “Marry me Caity” fortunes inside fortune cookies, on the other hand, I will accept.
9. If you are certain I love you and will marry you, then hijacking the microphone at an awesome concert is cool too.
10. And finally, if you know what is good for you, you will forfeit all rights in the naming process of any children.
I think the lamest part is that I still agree with half of these. No, actually, the lamest part is that while typing this, I ‘corrected’ graffiti into graffitti, only to find that my past self actually can spell better than me.
Edit: Google is a fucking bastard. Clearing outdated cache does not do a thing to remove search results.