#please stop trying to clone every other social media. this one is just fine

[ravenmoodle]

Amazed that Tumblr Staff changed snoozing live to last for 30 days, then made it also not actually get rid of the 'live' tab

[kibakun02]

Naruto Retsuden Epilog

“Mom, is hokage-sama going to coming out soon?”

The small palm of a hand gripped tightly to the hem of the skirt fluttering by

his face.

“Yeah that’s right, you’ll see him soon”

Quietly, the mother looks up to the shrine dedicated to the gods on the hill.

Among the modest crowd on the piled sandstone was a meeting happening between

the 7th hokage and the Daimyo of the Land of Stairs.

Tons of people had gathered at the foot of the hill just to catch a glimpse of

the “hero” on his first visit since he had taken office.

The air around the slope of the hill gently sways, making the thin smoke of an

orange flame rise.

No one understood why it burned.

For the 4,000 years of recorded history, the flame at the top of the hill

continued to burn even through the rainy days. The indelible flame is regarded

as a blessing from the gods and a curse from the devil, since ancient times

it’s been worshiped and been the subject of awe.

Eventually, as the fourth shinobi world war ended with the five great

countries in agreement of social peace, and once the rumors of the mysterious

flame that burned in the corner of a small country reached the ear of Kakashi

Hatake, the hokage at this time, had a team of investigators dispatched.

Their research, consisting of both science and ninjutsu, resulted in the

reveal of a large deposit of natural gas that sat beneath the hill. Natural

gas erupted from underground while the geothermal heat ignited the flame.

The heat from the never-ending bonfire caused a gentle breeze, shaking the

petals of the dull wild violets that bloomed.

The 7th hokage and daimyo of the Land of Stairs came out of the temple exactly

at their scheduled time. Seems like the meeting went off without a hitch.

“Hokage-sama!”

“Seventh! Over here!”

“Do a rasengan!!”

Cheers rose from the crowd gathered by the staircase.

In response to seeing the cheering crowd, the 7th hokage lifted his arm to

form a rasengan just as from behind, his escort from Konoha rushed to push

down his arm in restraint.

“Hokage-sama, please don’t show off your rasengan so carelessly! It could

affect national security!”

“Whaaat? It’s fine. Just a little-…“

The seventh hokage sourly frowned, reluctantly lowering his arm.

Naruto Uzumaki.

The Village Hidden in the Leaves’ top shinobi, the protector of the Land of

Fire, the young leader holds the position of 7th hokage. His hair a bright

blonde, his eyes reminiscent of ramune soda in the summertime

He’s reaching his mid-thirties, but from his juvenile innocence, you’d never

guess.

It’s no secret that he’s the jinchuriki to the nine-tailed fox, but his face

looks closer to that of a racoon than a fox. His big eyes, nose, mouth, in

addition all moved well, making his expressions rich. It wasn’t just his

expressions that were flashy, it was every slight move he made, catching the

eye of the people all around you. He’s your average “smooth talker” type of

leader that pulls you in, but in his case, the love he gives breaks through.

Naruto stopped his feet suddenly in the middle of the staircase, narrowing his

eyes as he threw his gaze far off in the distance. He was sure that he’d be

able to see visible skyscrapers that were lined in the distance behind the

clouds from his view. The dull field connected to the foot of the hill

abruptly ended at the border of the capital and switched completely to a

cosmopolitan view interwoven with inorganic material.

Since the natural gas underground could be easily obtained in the area, it

became widely used as a source of fuel for in the five great nations for

large-scale transportation, causing the Land of Stairs to rapidly develop.

Their Gross Domestic Product increased seventeen times over a decade ago,

their infrastructure improved, welfare enhanced excessively, and life

expectancy increased by 20 years.

There is so much money. What’s missing is tradition, and the story of a hero.

“Hokage-sama, how was your visit to the Land of Stairs?”

Waiting at the bottom of the staircase for the 7th Hokage were interviewers,

surrounding and pointing a microphone at him.

“I was happy to experience the development of the Land of Stairs first-hand.

I had also accompanied the investigators dispatched by the previous hokage. To

be able to get a feel for the Land of Stairs development like this, I’m glad

I came.”

After the hokage gave his comment, a shrill voice rose with “please come

again!”

“haha… well we’ll look for another opportunity”

As the hokage answered softly laughing, applause erupted from all over the

crowd.

The long-established hidden village leaders, everyone in the Land of Stairs’

aspiration. In particular, they had great confidence in the hokage, the leader

of the hidden leaf village. Over 10 years ago, this country, whose livelihood

still depended on their blacksmith industry, received a grant for development assistance by the Land of Fire’s daimyo Madoka Ikkyu and the sixth hokage.

After passing laws for refining the natural gas underground, the country’s

total production per capita grew three times bigger than that of the Land of

Fire, and aid was discontinued. Though they never forget the support they

received in poor times.

The more people like you, and the greater influence you have, the more enemies

you’ll inevitably have. At this time, the person who’d been asked to

assassinate Naruto Uzumaki was surely one of them. Looking at Naruto’s

profile as he continued with the media correspondence, Aze Yanaru narrowed his

sharp eyes. He was an assassination specialist shinobi, changing his

appearance with a transformation jutsu as he approached Naruto.

While the usual strategy to assassination is aiming at your target while

they’re alone, Yanaru often picked places conspicuous and visible to the

public. Unexpected attacks in places with an unknown number of witnesses. What

makes this possible is the use of shadow clones enclosing in a four-man cell.

With his kekkei genkai, Yanaru can share his stored accumulated memories when

his clone disappears, not only with his original body but with the rest of his

clones. It’s a great advantage to have the ability to exchange information

closely should there be any unexpected situations at the site of

assassination.

His shadow clones, A, B, and C, all 3 of them placed and already aiming at the

hokage’s life. On the other hand, only three escorts were guarding the

hokage.

The bounty presented was enormous. If one were to succeed in this job, you’d

have enough to live comfortably for 3 generations.

Yanaru looked at the crowd gathered at the foothill, taking a deep breath to

release his nervousness. The life of the seventh hokage for money. Something

much more than natural gas.

One of Yanaru’s clones, A, hid himself in the thick leaves, aiming at the

seventh hokage from atop a tree.

On the path the hokage walked, there was a luxurious rug, dyed a luxurious red

from sappanwood dye. The root was clear, there was almost no open space

anywhere or blind spots in the perimeter, so aiming from there was a good

location. No doubt that Shikamaru Nara, one of the hokage’s right hand men,

would complain, but he persisted on by the side of the stairs, since this hill

was the most sacred site in the country.

“A” gripped a small firearm in one hand, reciting and confirming his plan.

A state-of-the-art photon gun, issued by his employer, a weapon that emits a

400,000-watt high power (maxima laser) to attack enemies from a distance. The

intense heat from the laser instantly transmits from cell to cell, even if it were to hit the tip of your hair, your whole body will heat itself in a few

minutes, causing you to burst from the inside out.

He raised his face again, readjusting his grip. The questions from the media

are pouring in with rapid succession and without hesitation towards the

seventh hokage.

“Does the Land of Fire import gas not only from us but also from the Land of

Wind? I know that the Land of Wind has been closely tied to the Land of Fire

for a long time, but what do you think about the rumors that both countries

are trying to exclude natural gas from the market by favoring each other?”

“eeeeeeh? Who says that? The kazekage is an old friend, but negotiations

between countries are another story.”

“Then, there’s no favoritism?”

“No, no. We do import a lot of your gas, but we wouldn’t suddenly switch

over if Gaara gave us a friend discount.”

Laughter erupted from the reporters. Whether it was natural or calculated, the

seventh hokage cleverly dodged presumptuous questions from the press.

“A” checked his watch. It was decided that there’d been enough time to

cover the area. Soon, the hokage was to walk on that carpet made just for him

then head out a boat seaplane. Plenty of chances.

Aim there.

Licking his dry lips, “A” clutched the photon gun even tighter.

*whoosh*

The wind of the shot grazed his cheek.

“huh?”

The moment he looked off to the side,

Byi-i-in!

As it shook the air, the shot pierced the body of a tree. “A” was stunned,

shrinking himself back into the branches of the tree.

The hokage should’ve been safe from any distance but for some reason he was

under attack.

When and why did they find out about this place? Who shot the beam? Where was

he? His thoughts still confused, he rammed his hand in his pocket ready to

fight back.

The leaves overhead sway as they fall down. The gloved palm of “A” held his

grip on the photon gun.

“eh....”

A man looked up, eyes sleepy, like the gaze like a goat. The face of a man who

hid his face with a cloth mask.

He didn’t recognize him. This man...

“Kakashi Hatake-” A kunai sank into A’s throat before he could finish saying the name. The tip

of the blade cut through bone and flesh, blood splattered onto the fresh

leaves around him.

A puff of smoke.

“A” disappeared without a trace.

As “A” disappeared, the memory of what happened right before he died flowed

into Yanaru’s body and the body of the others, “B” & “C”.

The last view of “A” was the worst imaginable.

Kakashi Hatake. The man with listless eyes, at first glance he seems

ambitionless and naiive, shinobi are still deceived by this appearance even

while part of the five great nations. His face, the former hokage, is well

known, too.

Being the man who first sent a research team for the natural gas, he was no

less popular than the seventh hokage in the Land of Stairs. Despite this, none

of the people in the crowd noticed him, a sign that Kakashi is completely out

of sight.

After retiring from the 6th hokage title, he spent his days reading the news

from the paper and enjoys visiting hot springs as his hobby. However true,

he’s still on the scene, participating in security for the 7th hokage.

“B” slowly kicked at the dirt beneath his straw sandals.

Kakashi Hatake removed his first blade, deliberately letting the clone see

himself. Intimidation was the purpose. Since the opponent had no chance of

winning against Kakashi Hatake, the third-rate assassinate reluctantly

withdrew. Celebrities had to be self-aware of such disgusting guys. That’s

the reason why he let his head fall, to show the difference in strength, that

there was no room for resistance. “B” pulled his sweaty hand out from his

sleeve.

Easy does it. Stop shaking and looking upset. He got rid of his disturbing

behavior as not to be found out. He sucked in a deep breath of air. Moments

later as he went to exhale, something covered his mouth.

“―――！！”

It continued on, he put his hands up to his neck as he were being strangled,

tiny gasps leaking out. “B” instantly clutched at the wrist of the unknown

person who covered his mouth.

Thin. A woman’s wrist.

“B” tried to kick back his left foot to somehow escape, but he missed. His

toes kicked up and ended up in the air, causing him to lose his balance. His

hunched body held in a firm one-legged hold by the woman, finally stopping

“B” from stirring about.

When the brain becomes deficient in oxygen, it ceases to function. Within the light-headesness and the daze of fading consciousness he could

faintly feel something soft touching his back. She was a woman, after all.

The female ninja with Kakashi Hatake who was guarding the 7th Hokage. She had

the excellent skill of getting rid of someone without anyone in a crowd

noticing, with little room for them to resist her powerful strength.

……Sakura Haruno。

He was convinced she was the one who had gotten him (B),but couldn’t confirm

if his guess was correct or not. Without even a glance at her face, she

tightened her strangle around his neck.

“B” vanished into smoke.

What was going on? Security wasn’t insufficient?

“C” was impatient.

For Kakashi Hatake, he didn’t know a person who didn’t know Sakura Haruno’s

reputation as being a go-getter with brilliant technique in endurance, the two

of them being a part of the 7th hokage’s security. In a face to face fight

with 10-1, you wouldn’t even be considered a challenge.

The 7th hokage walks toward the boat seaplane.

“Calm down”, “C” told himself.

I’m a clone. Even if I were to be attack, I’d just disappear, I won’t

die.

Five seconds passed since “B” vanished. Even if he no longer had his

comrades, he was safe. They haven’t noticed he was the assassin.

“C” touched the photon gun hidden within his jacket.

It’s ok. I can do it.

He takes a deep breath and waits for the hokage to step in front of him.

A little more……

Just a few more steps……

Then, across the red carpet’s pathway, he noticed a black-haired man

standing. He stood out as the tallest man in the perimeter.

While everyone’s eyes were all on the hokage, he only gave his attention to

the masses of people, rather than to the other heroes of the Land of Fire.

His handsome features were too famous among other shinobi.

Sasuke Uchiha――

Are you participating in security to this monster?

It’d be impossible to go with a front facing attack. In a moment of

judgement, “C” pulled a woman within arms reach towards him.

“Don’t move! I’ll kill this woman!”

He shouted with the gun’s barrel to the woman’s temple as the crowd screamed

and scattered.

Sasuke stopped the hokage in his tracks, stepping in front of him in defense.

How convenient. The photon gun had the power to shoot through seven men lined

up in a row.

I’ll shoot them both!

The man went to lift his arm and point the barrel to Sasuke’s chest.

Somehow as he went to move his arm, his fingers moved.

His lightly bent middle finger moved, pulling the trigger.

A laser emitted from the barrel pressed against her head, shooting through

the woman’s temple.

BANG!!

Countless crows flew from within the ruptured head.

“huh?”

Ebony feathers flutter around.

“C” fell to his knees as he suddenly became lethargic, unable to stand up.

Genjutsu.

[cryptidcalling]

Clone AU time

So, Hill is from my clone AU, where very very rich people will secretly pay to have a clone of themselves made. There’s lots of different reasons one might want a clone. Many people who buy clones use them to get away with crimes because they’re genetically identical. In Hill’s case, he doesn’t want anyone except him to be in charge of his company.

Of course, Clone Wren didn’t turn out how they wanted him to. Unlike the stoic and unpersonable Hill, Wren is an Earth loving, people pleasing sweetheart. They’re not polar opposites, but they’re very different. Wren tried his best to replicate Hill and fill his role as a clone, but he struggled a lot, and everyone in Hill’s life quickly noticed that he was acting very very strange. Eventually, Wren cracked under the pressure and ran away. He withdrew a large lump some of cash from a number of surrounding ATMs, got on the first airplane out of state, and abandoned Hill’s entire life in favor of living his own.

This was a risky situation for Wren, because legally he is the property of the company that made him. He has a code branded on the side of his right hip, burned into the skin before he was woken so that the numbers are raised. Even if he tattooed over them, the numbers would still be visible. The number is 000283, the 283rd clone ever to be grown. Before he ran away, Wren also had to remove a tracking chip from his left calf, and he still has an indented scar there because he never got the wound treated. If Wren were to be found, the company that made him would be in every legal right to kill him, which they would. After that, his body parts (bones, organs, hair even) would be sold off. 

So, Wren was in a tight spot. He spent a lot of time moving around, and found that he was very enraptured by Earth’s natural beauty and the people living all around the country. He had to keep his face as hidden as he could, because Hill is someone many people would recognize from TV or magazines. Not because he’s famous or popular, or even enjoys being in the media, but because his sudden disappearance had stirred up a media storm. However, he’s not famous enough that someone would immediately recognize him with subtle changes. So, Wren grew out his beard a bit and let his hair get long, and although some people will notice eventually, it’s not as immediate of a reaction.

Wren eventually settles down in West Virginia, and his life from there on is much like canon Wren’s is. However, he has to be incredibly careful about who he gets close to and how much of his past he can reveal. Wren, but with secrets. 

As I said, back home, people have noticed the sudden disappearance of Weston Hill. His face is in news papers, magazines, on TV, all over social media, everywhere. People all have their theories about what happened to him. Some think he was kidnapped for his money, explaining all of the sudden withdrawals, but it wouldn’t explain why the kidnappers didn’t let him go after. Others think he was murdered, and that the company is trying to cover it up so they don’t hurt their profits. The people who have it the closest believe that everything just became too much for him, and so he abandoned his life’s work to start anew somewhere else. 

Hill didn’t much like people or the public. He hid away inside most days, and was rarely ever seen in person by the public eye. There are some people who care about him though. 

First off are his parents. They had a lot closer bond than canon Wren had to his parents when he was young. It sort of is opposite for them. Canon Wren’s relationship with his parents was strained in his youth, but became very strong in his adult life. Hill was very close with his parents in his youth, but drifted apart from them as an adult. Still, they love him very much, and he cares for them too. They never met Wren, so they never noticed the strange behavior. But they were crushed when they heard the news of their son’s disappearance. They hold out hope that their son is out there, but their overprotective thinking really leads them to think he’s hurt and scared somewhere with some evil kidnapper using him for his money. Meeting Wren would be great for them. They didn’t see him much as Hill either, so the change wouldn’t be nearly as dramatic for them, and Wren would feel incredibly happy to have parents that love him. However, he would worry a lot about them finding out about the truth and rejecting him for not being their real son.  

Another is his secretary Adeline. She’s an old woman, in her late 60′s, and she worked for Hill for many years. She’s one of the few people who saw him, or at least spoke to him, close to every day. They were never deep conversations, mostly about his schedule and about company statistics, but she grew to care for him anyhow. She has four of her own kids, all around Hill’s age when they first met (he was 32 when he died, and 27 when she started working for him). She fussed about him a lot, and always said he had ought to go outside more to get his Vitamin D, and when he was going out she would remind him to wear sunscreen because “That ginger skin of yours is delicate! It don’t handle the sun good without protection, an’ I don’t want’cha lookin’ like no tomato for your meeting at 5:00.” She knew better than to cross his boundaries. He had his own mother to love him, after all, but she did her best to look out for him as well as she could. He never felt that same bond with her, but he still appreciated the work she did for him at keeping everything organized. He even got her gifts on holidays, even when he never made a big deal out of it. Normally he would just leave it on her desk, and would never stick around to see her reactions. 

She noticed right away when ‘he’ started acting odd, and she was very sure something wrong was going on that he wasn’t telling her. She even asked Wren what was wrong and why he was acting funny, promising that it was okay for him to ask for help. In response Wren stuttered out an “I’m fine” before quickly walking away and refusing to talk to her for the rest of the day. Of course it hurt her feelings, but she wasn’t mad at him at all. It just made her more concerned. When he finally went missing, she was in a panic. She called his phone over and over, only to find it left behind in his room. She called everyone she could possibly think to call to ask where he was, but no one knew. The last trace of him was in an LA airport on a plane to Portland. The trail cuts off there. She genuinely wants to believe that he’s out there somewhere, happy and safe. She hopes that if he ran away to a new life, that he would at least be happier there. If she were to encounter Wren, she would scold him a lot for running off out of the blue, but when she was done she would just be delighted to know that ‘Hill’ is living a life that makes him genuinely happy. They would probably keep in touch after, and Wren would do whatever he could to keep his clone status a secret. He knows she wouldn’t turn him in, but he doesn’t want to hurt her with the truth. 

The last person to really feel the impact of Hill’s disappearance would be a man named Edwin. He’s an investor in Hill’s company, and like a company owner tends to do, Hill would meet up with him here and there to keep relations good. Edwin is in his early 40s, and he’s very rich. All of his money is old though, he’s a trust fund baby and all of his family’s wealth comes from his grandparents during the 1920′s. Because of that, he has a lot of free time and money on his hands, and liked to meet with Hill often (maybe two or three times a month). They would go golfing (which Hill hated), drinking at an expensive bar (which made Hill uncomfortable), or would have fancy dinners (which made Hill feel awkward). Edwin, or Eddy as he prefers, loved spending time with Hill. He thought that Hill’s aloof nature was fun to mess around with, and he always wanted to see how far he could push the boundaries until he got a reaction out of him. Of course, it was all good natured fun in Eddy’s eyes. He saw Hill as a friend, even if their friendship was odd. Hill, on the other hand, was bothered by Edwin more than anything. He was polite to him because he was giving Hill’s company money. He found Edwin bothersome and the meetings to always be unpleasant. He hated calling him “Eddy” like they were friends. He didn’t even like Edwin calling him by his first name. He would put up with it, but he would NOT put up with being called “Wes”. 

Eddy didn’t even know Hill had gone missing until he started showing up in the news. When Wren got too nervous to accept his invitations, he just assumed Hill was being colder than usual. He actually got rather angry towards the end of the month, right after Wren ran away. He sent an irritated voicemail saying that if Hill wasn’t interested in being polite enough to at least decline instead of ignoring him, then maybe his money would be better spent elsewhere. Of course, he felt extremely guilty when he learned Hill was missing. He still invests money to this day, 4 years after the disappearance, as his way of supporting a man he considered a friend. He thinks Hill his dead. He could never imagine him abandoning his company, and he could never imagine someone kidnapping him but not demanding more of his millions of dollars. Whenever he’s grieving, he often realizes that he doesn’t know very much about Hill at all. Yet, he grieves for him all the same. Meeting Wren would go very bad for him. He would be incredibly angry, screaming at Wren for leaving his company behind and not warning anyone of where he was going. He would immediately stop all of his investments into the company, and he would expose exactly where Wren was to the media as revenge. If he found out Wren was a clone, he would just hate him more. He’s a defective product. If he had just functioned like he was supposed to and stayed in his place no one would have had to worry or waste their time grieving. 

[bluebellhairpin]

Domestic

Loki Laufeyson/Odinson X Fem!Reader

A/N: I dunno what this one is. I don’t even know when in the MCU timeline it happened, but it’s Loki fluff, so ya’ll wont mind, I’m sure. Enjoy. - Nemo P.S. Easter Egg for Anime fans. Kudos if you get it.

Summary: There are many memories that you’ve gained over the years from living with the God of Mischief. Here are a list of occasions that you like the most; some are happy, others sad, some are pure, some funny, and others that you wish the whole world could’ve seen.

Warning!: Possible trigger warning in one of the sections. If you believe it could be a trigger, it’s titled ‘VIII. Happy Pills’, so you’d just have to skip over it if you decide to read this anyway. 

Masterlist  

I. Save the Kitten

“Damn, not again.” You mumbled, hands on your hips as you stared up at the tall branches of the tree.

“With a name like Fiberglass I’d not wan’t to come down too.”

“Shut up Loki.” You said, thumping the god on the shoulder before making your way towards the trunk, preparing to start climbing.

“What are you doing now?” He said with a frown, seeing you begin to place your hands and feet up on the rough bark.

“I’m getting her back. What does it look like I’m doing; drawing a bath?” You called, mocking his accent while you made quick work of climbing.

“You’ve done this before.” Loki stated, ignoring your jab at his moral, instead noting that you climbed up this particular tree as if you did it regularly. You shot him a look, he rolled his eyes. “I was just pointing it out.” 

“Yeah well, stop pointing it out and prepare yourself to catch Fiberglass.” You said, now having reached the young cat and scooping it up into your hands. “Usually I’d just carry her down, but now you’re here it’ll make it a lot easier.”

“Maybe I should make you carry her down. Could be quite entertaining.”

“Loki, I swear to-”

“Okay, okay. Just give her here.” 

II. Sunsets

Since you had been entrusted with the care of Loki, S.H.I.E.L.D made sure there was plenty of space where you lived. Meaning you moved out of your old apartment in downtown Queens soon after Loki arrived, and into a house in the area of New Haven. The house came complete with floor-to-ceiling windows and a rooftop deck.

You especially loved the deck, and whatever nights you could you were up there with a blanket watching the sunset.

“Why don’t you watch the sunrises too? They’re just as beautiful.” Loki had joined you tonight, bringing an extra blanket and two cups of something hot and great-tasting.

“You should know me by now, I don’t wake up early enough for that.” You laughed. 

“True.”

“Plus, with sunsets, you can start to watch the stars come out too.” Loki smiled at that. It seemed he was rather impartial to stars too.

You both settled into a comfortable silence, his shoulder was pressed next to yours as you sipped your drinks. The sky swirled in shades of pale blue, pink, orange, red, and purple. It was putting up quite the show tonight.

“What is this drink?” You asked randomly, watching the liquid swish in your cup.

“Magic!” He said, putting his newly-learnt jazz-hands to use.

“You’re a moron.”

“You love me. Everyone does.”

III. Say Cheese!

“C’mon! Just one nice picture.” You whined, letting the hand that was holding your phone go limp.

“No. I’m not going to become one of your models. Too many people still hate me for the New York attack.”

“I wont use this one for social media, I have plenty others for that, and those only have your silhouette.” You pouted. “This one’ll be for me.” You added quietly, however Loki heard you rather clearly.

“Tch, give it here.” He said, snatching the phone from your hand and puling you close, pressing the button, effectively taking his first selfie before giving the phone back. “There. No stop whining.”

You looked at the photo, fining Loki looking the happiest he ever had looked, and you still had a look of shock/pout stuck on your face.

Loki was actually very happy you kept insisting on the photo, in fact he was rather happy you wanted to spend time with him at all; so he figured he could let that one photo be a outlet for his hidden happiness.

You frowned, a little disappointed in yourself for ruining an otherwise great photo.

“You should send that to me.” Loki asked, looking over your shoulder as you stared at the digital image.

“O-Oh, sure.” You said, choosing to ignore your stuttering and instead smile up at the Asgardian.

“Cute.” Loki breathed, making sure you wouldn’t hear.

IV. My Nephews are Twins

“I didn’t know you knew magic too!”

“I don’t. You’re overreacting.” You bluntly said, brushing some of your nephew’s hair away from his face as he ate cereal. “This is Eren. The one you saw outside is Jean.” 

“You gave you’re magic names?”

“Loki! Listen to me!” You started, slapping Loki across the face, Eren giggled at the action. Loki faced you with a look of disbelief. “Eren and Jean are twins. Did you not have twins in Asgard or something?”

“We do, it’s-it’s just where did they come from? No one in their right mind would leave their children near a monster like me.” At this comment, you pulled Loki away from Eren and into the hallway.

“You’re only a monster if you let people tell you that you’re one.” You started, placing your hand on his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “You’re no monster to me; you’re Loki, the man whose trying to right his wrongs.” You finished, taking in a deep breath as you released his face.

He missed your touch; you were so warm compare to him.

“You turn blue. It’s awesome.” Eren and Jean said, speaking in chilling synchronization. Loki scooted behind you, making sure he had a sort of shield between him and the twins. 

“Are they possessed?” Loki whispered, keeping his eyes on the boys.

“No. They just have powers. Like Steve and Bruce.” 

“What kind of powers do they have?”

“Linked telepathic communication and self cloning.” The twins said. Loki shrieked and ran off, clearly shaken by your nephews. 

V. Ice Skating - Not For Loki

You couldn’t stop laughing. 

“I’m a frost giant.” He said. 

“That’s ice, and it’s basically just walking without lifting your feet.” He said. 

“How hard can it be?” He said.

He was so very, very wrong. 

He slid across the ice with his hands outstretched, his legs wobbled, and he’d already fallen over three times even though you’d been here for less than fifteen minuets. And he kept screaming at you to help him and “stop laughing this IsNt fUnnY.”. 

In short, you were thoroughly enjoying yourself while Loki was practically dying of embarrassment.

“I’m never doing that again.” Loki grumbled, angrily untying his skates. You’d just managed to stop laughing enough to grab him and pull him off the ice.

“Sure you will, it just takes a lot of practice.”

“Practice my ass-”

“Loki! Language!”

“You’re not getting me to embarrass myself like that again.”

“Sure I’m not.” You laughed.

VI. I’m a Snake 

You woke up this particular morning feeling a bit tingly. And long. And smaller. You looked down at yourself, realising that your normal human body was replaced by a snake’s.. You went to let out a scream, but only a hiss came out.

You moved yourself over to one of your mirrors, finding that now you were a rather pretty Taipan. You frowned, as much as a snake could, and figured it was probably Loki’s fault.

However, he did have his magic taken away, meaning something might be wrong with him, or he was reverting back to his villain-like state. 

You made your way into his room, finding he was still in bed, so you managed to worm your way on top of the covers. He had a couple tissues clutched in his hand and his nose was a bit red. 

He had a cold. 

You chose to slither around his neck and poke your snake-tongue in his ear. He shot up with a start, sneezing and rubbing his ear as he did so.

“Wha- Ah! How’d you get in!” He shrieked, knowing full-well that if you were a real Taipan, that you could cause a lot of bodily damage.

“It’s me you moron.” You tried to say, thinking he wouldn’t understand.

“(y/n)? What happened?” Turns out he did understand.

“You, Loki. You happened.”

“It must’ve been a fluke.” He said, sneezing again.

“Fluke or not, change me back before I bite you.” You hissed, sliding further around his neck.

“Okay. I’d have to take you to my brother or S.H.I.E.L.D to do it.”

“I don’t care who we go to! Just change me back!”

“That’s weird, Taipan’s aren’t usually this aggressive.”

“Loki!”

VII. What’s Your Tragic Backstory?

“You’ve really never been here before?” You asked, entering through the glass door and instantly smelling old books with a hint of tea and adventure. 

“It’s not like the higher-ups want be away from you.” Loki said, closing the door gently behind him as he watched you begin to wander through the isles of books. “Why did they leave me with you? As far as you’ve let on, you have no powers at all.”

“That’s the point.” You mumbled, running your hands along a row of old and new book spines. “I’ve never really liked my powers; as far as I’m concerned I should be the one locked up, not you.”

“What could be so bad about them? It’s not like you were controlled by Thanos.” He said, continuing to follow you as you then made your way towards a spiral staircase; you made no comment. “Were you?” He added, quieter this time as you stopped a couple steps higher than him, leaving you eye-level with the god.

“Loki, please, I don’t want to talk about it. At least not here.”

“There’s no one here. No other customers, and the clerk is asleep. It’s not like anyone would know.”

“I unwillingly killed hundreds for him. I remember it all. Every last plead for life; for a second chance. Sometimes he still tries to get to me, but I manage to shake him off.” You blurted, deciding to just let him know what's happened.

“So why are you here, working with the Avengers if you done so many wrongs?”

“I remember all my training; meaning I’m a better spy that Natasha Romanoff. I was also genetically engineered; Where Steve Rogers fights like a hundred men, I fight like a thousand. I’m a huge asset for them.” You finished, moving yo continue up the stairs but Loki caught your arm and turned you back to him.

“You don’t need to worry about hurting me. I... I have the same feeling about you. I don’t want to hurt you because of what I’ve done in the past.”

“Thank you Loki.” 

VIII.  Happy Pills

“What are these?”

“It’s just some med’s Loki.”

“Hogwash. I’ve been around Midguardians for six months now. The label says that they’re not just med’s.” Loki said, rattling the pills around in their bottle.

“Better question; what’re you doing in my stuff?” You said, setting down you book and snatching the bottle out of his hands.

“You were acting different to usual. I wanted to make sure you weren’t doing anything too rational. Contrary to that, turns out instead of doing something, you weren’t doing something.” He started, you groaned feeling a lecture coming on. “I can’t believe you thought you could trick me, of all people. Now tell me, and don’t you dare lie, what are these for?” He hissed grabbing hold of your arm to make sure you wouldn’t run away any further than you had.

“They’re just to help.” You sighed. “They help with Thanos. And the nightmares. They keep me happier.” You mumbled, the grip on your arm loosening as Loki then pulled you into a tight embrace. You felt a couple tears escape your eyes as you wrapped your arms around Loki.

“It may sound hypocritical coming from me, but talking helps. And you can talk to me, even at the times when it seems I don’t care.” He mumbled into your hair. You sniffed and tightened your hold around his torso, smooshing your face further into his chest.

“Why do you care about me so much?”

“We have a lot in common. Plus, as much as I’d hate to have to admit; you, my dear mortal, have wormed you way into my heart. I’m afraid I care about you an awful lot.”

“Oh, you’re so romantic.”

“You love it.” He breathed out a laugh, you too let out a giggle.

“I think you’re right; as much as I’d hate to have to admit.”

IX. Starry Eyes

“You get weird after two in the morning, you know that?”

“Good morning to you too.” You mumbled, rolling over in your bed to throw an arm over Loki’s chest. He let out a mock ‘oof’ when it landed on his shirt-clad torso; acting as it your arm was led instead of flesh and bone.

“No seriously.” He laughed, bringing your hand up to lay a kiss on your palm. “It’s like if your not asleep by a certain time you go to instant tipsy-mode. Do you even remember what happened?”

“No. I didn’t do anything too embarrassing, right?” You asked, prying an eye open to look over at a smiling Loki.

“Nothing embarrassing. You eyes just turned into galaxies.”

“What, really?” You said, sitting up in surprise as Loki nodded.

“Sure did darling. Right before you passed out and I had to carry you back here.” He said, patting the mattress as he explained.

“Which galaxy?” You asked, leaning back down into his arms as a gentle smile rested on your lips.

“One of the ones on the outer rims of this realm.”

“Is it pretty?”

“Nothing can compare to your beauty. You held the stars in your eyes last night, and you made them glorious. They are not that breathtaking when I see them in person, only when they are part of you.” 

“Aw, Loki! You’re so poetic!”

“Well, you know what they say; love so passionately that Shakespeare rises from the dead to capture it.”

X. Blue Is Good

“Loki, it’s fine. No one got hurt.”

“That doesn’t matter. Just leave (y/n).”

“No, I won’t - I can’t. I owe you that much.” You said, leaning your head on the door. It was cold, colder than normal. 

“You own me nothing! Monsters like me don’t deserve a love like yours! I’m not worth it!” He yelled, you stayed silent. He’d been in his Jotun form before, never in front of you and especially not in front of other Midguardians. You knew he viewed himself as a monster; but you thought he’d gone passed that now, you thought you’d convinced him otherwise.

“I know you don’t like your Jotunheim heritage Loki, and Thor has spoken of the dispute between your people and the Asgurdians. But you’re on Midguard now. People here may seem harsh, and at times they are, but you’ve proven yourself to be more than just a ‘monster’. Everyone has a dark side, a side of themselves that they don’t want others to see. I hope you know that I accept you as a whole; Jotunheim and all.” You said, never once raising your voice more than needed.

Loki had moved closer to the door, listening carefully to every word.

“You accepted me as I am, even though I still hate myself for what I’ve done, you make me feel like I worth some of the love you give me. I could never wish for anything more than for you to understand in the slightest the appreciation that I have for you. I love you Loki, more than words and actions can ever convey.”

“Say it again.” Loki said, opening the door and gazing down at you with a look of awe. His skin still had a blue hue and their darkened markings, and his eyes still had some red.

“I love you.” You smiled, letting out a sigh of either relief or happiness. Maybe it was both.

He then caught you by surprise, pulling you flush to his chest and connecting his lips to yours. You’d kissed before, but none of the other kisses conveyed this much raw emotion; love, admiration, sadness, hope, happiness. A huge mixture of colorful feelings. 

“I love you too.” He mumbled, his mouth only just far enough away from yours to get the words out without them sounding muffled.

And it was perfect.

[lobsters-on-their-heads]

Cont. Travels of Cophine, Part 2.3

Tunisia.

Link for the entire work here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/13525500

They arrived in Sousse in the afternoon, their last stop in Tunisia and the end of their Francophone African experience. If everything went well here, they would be in Libya in a few days, and Egypt after that. Cosima's energy level was partially recovered and the sinus headaches were gone, but she still had frequent coughing fits, and her voice cracked every couple of words. She now spent her time propping up Delphine, who insisted that she wasn't really all that sick.

“Delphine, I love you,” Cosima said, “but your eyes haven't opened completely for, like, two days. Your voice is an octave lower, and your sneezes have woken the dead. You are fucking sick.”

Delphine fell back on her bed beside Cosima. In Tunis they'd gotten a queen sized bed in their room, which was great at first, but a lot less appealing when both of them tossed and turned the whole night. Here in Sousse, they were back to separate twins, and neither of them had the energy to even comment on it.

“Okay,” Delphine said, “I'm sick. Are you happy now?”

“No. I just want you to stop pretending that you're fine. I want you to take care of yourself. I mean, I'm happy taking care of you, but you're not letting me do that, and you're pushing yourself too hard.”

As if to prove Cosima's point, Delphine rolled over to check the little beep her phone just made. “Dr. N'Jikam wants to postpone our meeting until Wednesday.” She pinched the bridge of her nose.

“And you don't have to be at the clinic until Wednesday morning, either, so tomorrow we can focus on getting rest, yeah? Maybe check out that sauna they're supposed to have.” With the chilly weather outside and the lack of heat in the hotel room, spending the day at a nice 180 degrees fahrenheit had a certain appeal.

“Mmm... maybe. We still have a lot of arrangements to make.”

Cosima rubbed her back through her sweater. “We do. But we're not going to help anybody if you're not healthy. So you need to rest. That's what you told me the other day!”

“I can't sleep, I've told you.”

The night before, Delphine had apparently been awake for five hours while Cosima slept like a log. She'd drifted off for an hour or so on the ride into Sousse, but good sleep still aluded her. “Take some more NyQuil,” Cosima said. “Or I'll get the bar downstairs to make you a nice hot toddy.”

She shook her head. “Then I'll be hung over all morning. Is there any tea?”

Cosima checked the little complimentary beverage station near the ironing board. “Um... yes, but it all looks caffeinated.”

“Then no.”

Another coughing fit hit Cosima then, doubling her over as she pounded on her chest. The pounding never helped, but it was better than doing nothing. Once it subsided, she straightened back up and fumbled around for some more water. Delphine stayed on her bed, watching her.

“Have you tried the throat spray again?”

“Um, no.”

“Maybe you should. It would numb your throat and...”

“It would make me vomit again. No thanks.”

“You might've done it wrong.”

Naturally, Delphine was able to use the throat spray with no problems at all. Cosima added it to the list of things Delphine did effortlessly.

Cosima picked up her purse and wrapped her scarf around her neck again. “If I did, I'm not willing to risk doing it wrong again. But I will get some more cough syrup. And some more tea.”

Delphine propped herself up on her elbows to return Cosima's kiss. “Can you get some soup, too?”

“Yup. Soup, syrup, and tea. I'll be back soon, love.”

Delphine nodded and sank back down.

* * *

They tried the sauna the next day, but found it packed with Scandinavian women who all knew each other and laughed too loudly at everything each of them said. Cosima got some tea loaded with valerian root and lemon balm, and Delphine drank mug after mug of it while Cosima did their laundry in the hotel's facilities and brought containers of brik and fricassé from the vendors across the street. In the evening, they drank more tea and watched the Arabic dubbing of Downton Abbey on the hotel television.

On Wednesday it rained, the first time since they'd arrived in North Africa. Cosima sat at the bar in the hotel's restaurant and watched it fall in sheets over the cars and cyclists and old men in traditional burnouses hustling around with newspapers over their heads. It was just after noon, almost time for midday prayers, when the locals on the street would clear off for a moment but the tourists in the restaurant would stay. She knew these things now. She was also starting to forget that she hadn't always dropped the “h” sound in “hotel.”

The restaurant was packed. Most of these tourists were here for the promise of a sunny beach-side vacation in a relatively progressive Arab country, the lone gunman attack of a few years ago now a distant memory. The rain, however, put the beach off limits. The business men were here too, but in fewer numbers than in Tunis or Algiers. Cosima wondered how many tourists would be in Tripoli.

Delphine was supposed to be back by now. The clone here in Sousse had been easy to find, unlike the one in Tunis who'd gotten married and changed her name since the Leda List was compiled. Cosima double checked the time and confirmed that this clone's appointment had been for 10:30, and then she texted Delphine.

Everything okay?

While she waited for a reply, she scrolled through her Facebook feed, finding very little that was new since that morning. Alison posted pictures of a black forest cheesecake from all angles; Cosima's mother posted memes that she thought were hilarious and Cosima had seen ten years ago; Scott cracked science jokes; her father ranted about Republicans. Same old, same old. She thought about reading the news, but she'd done that earlier and had no desire to repeat the experience. She was nervous enough about going to Libya without reading that the country was “mired in chaos” and ruled by “men with guns.” She wanted to keep her worries confined to the language barrier.

“Anything else?” The bartender gestured to her empty tea cup.

“Yeah. Another one. Thank you. Merci. Shukraan (شكرا.)”

He gave her an indulgent smile and got her more hot water and some fresh tea.

Instagram yielded no new results, either. Five of the Ledas were hyper active there, posting so many photos of their personal lives that Cosima felt closer to them than to most of her own cousins at this point, and was becoming personally invested in the little drama that was brewing in the love life of one of the Austrian sisters. All total, Cosima tracked 33 Ledas through Instagram and 34 on Twitter, 11 of which were on both. None so far had symptoms of clone disease that they were sharing on social media, though the Leda in Cape Town, South Africa, did seem to have a worrying rash on her torso that had nothing to do with being a clone, but probably with a swimming in the ocean.

Her phone buzzed. Difficult patient. Delphine said.

Cosima arched an eyebrow. That could mean many things. And?

A reply wasn't immediately forthcoming, and Cosima rubbed her face to keep from swearing. The restaurant was loud enough that she might've gotten away with it, but it was better not to risk it, even surrounded by foreigners. She tried to look out the window but a man pushed up to the bar and blocked the view. He was tall and broad, wearing what Cosima called the “I yell at my family in public” uniform.

“Hey!” he shouted. “Can we get a table, please? We've been waiting fifteen minutes!”

Cosima rolled her eyes and went back to her phone. No reply from Delphine, but another cake picture from Alison on Facebook – red velvet this time.

She pulled up Twitter and perked up again. A clone from southern California they hadn't made contact with yet finally posted something. She was in Cambodia, it turned out, and she had a long thread about politics and southeast Asian history that was actually quite fascinating. And then Delphine replied to her text.

Still trying.

“Still trying? That doesn't help, Delphine.” She tapped out her response. Do you need anything? Can I help?

She'd been at the bar for over an hour. She could have been up in their room, working on her thesis, or napping, or masturbating, or catching up on her reading. But Delphine had asked her to be here, to meet her after her 10:30 appointment at the clinic, because she was bringing one of her contacts from MSF, and this was an Important Contact. Cosima was wearing her nice shirt, for fuck's sake, and she'd ironed her pants. They were going to eat lunch together, their treat for this Important Contact, so Cosima had not eaten since 8:30 that morning.

She typed some more. Do you have an ETA?

Three minutes later, as she watched the loud man yell at his son for touching the floral arrangement on the table they'd finally gotten, her phone buzzed. Her excitement faded when she saw it was just an email from her mother.

Cosima,

Here's that dress company I told you about, based out of the City, very social-justice and queer oriented and I think right up your alley. It's pricey but we'd be happy to help you out if....

She closed the message without finishing it. “I am not dress shopping online, goddamn it,” she muttered. “How many times do I have to f.... ugh. Mother.” She rubbed her face again and checked the time.

12:40 pm. Five minutes since her last message to Delphine, and more than two hours since the appointment at the clinic started.

A bearded man in a West Virginia University sweatshirt sat down beside her, apologized when he brushed against her knee, and placed his order with the bar tender in Arabic. Once the bartender left, he laced his fingers together and turned to Cosima. “Heckuva weather we're having, yeah?”

“Yup. Sure is.”

“You know, I been coming here for ten years, and I swear this is the first time I've seen it rain.”

“Hm.”

He tapped the bar top. “Are those dreads you've got?”

“Yes.”

“I thought so! They look good!” He turned a little on his stool to face her more. “Usually white girls can't pull those off, but yours look really good!”

“Thank you.” She checked her phone again. 12:45, and no new messages.

“Can I ask, if you don't mind, what you did to make 'em stay so well? Like, my cousin tried dreads, and she's as white as me, and her hair stank!” He laughed and bumped into her knee again. “Like, it was just straight up matted and shit. What's your secret?”

She drained her tea and looked him in the eye. “I've been genetically engineered.”

He chortled. “Okay. Fair enough. I shouldn't have asked; I'm sorry.”

Cosima raised her eyebrows and did not respond. The bartender came with his order then – a steaming bowl of stew with a side of bread and a bottle of beer. The stew smelled amazing, and she still hadn't gotten any messages from Delphine, so she called the bartender back over and ordered a bowl for herself. While she waited, the cups of tea crept up on her and she slid off to the ladies' room, leaving her coat on the stool, pockets empty.

While she peed, she texted Delphine again. Is everything okay over there?

The clinic was on the same block as their hotel, and Cosima would have gone there herself an hour ago if they weren't terrified of accidental clone meet ups.

She also finished her mother's email about that dress shop in San Fransisco, which, Sally was keen to point out, also did tailoring for suits. Great.

Back at the bar, Cosima's coat was still there, along with her food and a fresh cup of tea. The WVU man was wrapped up in conversation with a guy to his left, thankfully, and now there was a different customer to Cosima's right – a woman with short wavy black hair, wearing a collared white shirt. As she walked towards her own seat, Cosima glanced down at the woman's shoes. Sure enough, Keens, or Keens equivalents. Cosima's phone buzzed.

Yes was all Delphine had to say. No ETA, no other information. Cosima put her phone back in her purse.

“Excuse me,” she said as she squeezed in between the two other customers to sit down.

“Sure, no problem,” the woman said, smiling at her. The WVU man did not seem to notice her return. “I hope no one was sitting here?”

“Oh, no,” Cosima assured her. “You're fine.”

The soup was delicious, but spicier than she'd anticipated, so she got a glass of water and another serving of bread to help it go down. In minutes her sinuses opened up and she needed extra napkins, as well. The woman beside her got a salad and a glass of wine, and smiled at Cosima when she drained her water glass.

“A bit spicy, is it?” She was British, or Irish, judging by her accent.

Cosima nodded. The water helped, but her eyes watered and her nose ran, and it was a damn good thing she wasn't trying to look good right now. She thought of Delphine's MSF contact and checked her phone again. It was 1:10. No new messages. “Whatever.” She dropped it back in her purse and gave the rest of her soup her full attention. When she'd finished, she wiped the bowl with some more bread and finished her third glass of water. Beside her, the dark haired British woman watched her, sideways.

“I guess it was good,” the woman said.

“Yeah. Delicious.” She pointed to the half-full salad plate in front of her bar neighbor. “Yours wasn't?”

The other woman shrugged. “I keep forgetting that I don't like tomatoes. I order them every so often, thinking that some dish looks rather good, and then I eat one, and remember.”

Cosima smiled. “I'm like that with oysters and clams. Someone will rave about how good they are, and swear they've got a good recipe, but it's always like eating a snot ball out of a shell.”

The other woman laughed at that, throwing her head back and showing off her neck in the process. “That is such an apt way to put it! They really are nature's little snot balls, aren't they? Tell me, have you read Tipping the Velvet?”

If she hadn't suspected this woman was queer before, she sure did now. More than suspected. Cosima blushed a little and grinned. “I read it when I was, like, twenty. So yeah, but it's been a while.”

“Well, I've read it several times, and every single time, when she's going on and on about oysters and how she prepares them and all that, I just have to shake my head, because I find oysters absolutely disgusting, just as you do.”

“Are they better or worse than tomatoes?”

“Worse. A thousand times worse.” She picked around the tomatoes on her plate, eating pieces of cheese and lettuce speared on her fork. “If I may ask, what brings you to Tunisia?”

“Oh, it's a, uh, a medical trip, of sorts.”

“Hm, I see. Like, medical tourism sort of thing? I've heard of that, and you're American, I take it?”

“I am, yeah. No, it's not for me. I mean, I'm not getting treated for anything.” She twisted her napkin between her fingers, trying hard to look nonchalant.

“You're doing the treating, then, perhaps?”

“Something like that.”

“Cosima?”

She spun around to find Delphine three feet behind her, frowning. “Oh, hey! When did you get here?”

“I got here a few minutes ago, as I said in my message. Did you get my message?”

Cosima dug in her purse for her phone. “The last message I got just said...” She looked at her phone. Sure enough, two new messages from Delphine, at 1:12 and 1:20. It was now 1:27. “Shit.”

“You haven't reserved a table, then, I take it.”

“They wouldn't let me unless I could give a more specific time!”

“Well, if you'd checked your messages, you would have had one. But now we have to wait.” She gestured over to the hostess stand, where a West African man in a linen suit waved and headed in their direction through the other diners. “He has a busy schedule, you know. He is a doing us a favor.”

Cosima gathered her coat and purse. The bartender had their room number to charge for the meal, thankfully. Fussing over credit card payments wouldn't improve either of their moods. “I do know that, and actually, Delphine, I've been checking my messages all day, and you weren't sending any, so maybe you should lay off a little bit?”

It was not the right thing to say, and it was not the right time to say it, but it came out of Cosima's mouth anyway. Delphine's eyebrows went up. She glanced over at the woman to Cosima's right, who was smart enough to pretend she wasn't listening. “Well,” Delphine said, “at least you made a new friend.”

The man in the linen suit reached them and gave Cosima a broad smile.

“Dr. N'Jikam,” Delphine said, “this is Cosima Niehaus, my research partner.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Niehaus. Dr. Simplice N'Jikam, from Médecins Sans Frontières. Dr. Cormier and I used to work together. Perhaps she's mentioned me.”

She put her best smile on for him and shook his hand. “Yes, she has. It's a pleasure to meet you, too.”

As dramatic as Delphine was about waiting for a table, they only had to wait five minutes to get one. Cosima sat across from Delphine, with Dr. N'Jikam to her left. Predictably, Cosima wasn't very hungry any more, but she ordered a carrot salad with hard boiled eggs and another cup of tea. Delphine ordered a lamb platter with couscous and vegetables. She must not have eaten since that morning, either. At least she seemed healthier than she had the day before.

Dr. N'Jikam started off the conversation as soon as they'd ordered. “So, you are going to Yemen.”

Delphine nodded. “That's correct.”

“When do you plan to be there, and for how long?”

“We're not sure exactly,” Cosima said. “It depends on how successful we are there. Right now, we have five days scheduled in early March, but that could change.”

The waiter brought their drinks – water for Delphine, coffee for Dr. N'Jikam, and mint tea for Cosima.

“And what exactly,” Dr. N'Jikam asked Delphine, “is your measure of success for this trip? What is your objective?”

“We've identified three women with a specific phenotype that puts them at risk for a terminal condition, and we plan to inoculate them against it, or cure them if they've already developed symptoms.”

His eyebrows rose. “What condition is that?”

“It's only recently been discovered, so there's not an agreed-upon name for it yet.”

“I see. And you've already identified patients already? How?”

“It's a long story. Some of our connections back in Canada gave us the information.”

The answer satisfied him, and he sipped on his coffee. For Cosima, though, the effects of her earlier bowl of soup and all the accompanying water became pressing, so she excused herself, meeting Delphine's “wtf” look with a wide eyes. Whatever. It would be worse to sit there bouncing and in pain, unable to focus. Waiting in line for the ladies room for the second time, she rummaged in her purse for her bottle of TUMS, and took two.

Back at the table, the food had once again arrived in her absence. Squeezed onto the table between the plates, glasses, silverware, decorative flower arrangement, and complimentary flatbread, Dr. N'Jikam had his tablet and a pad of line-free paper, which he and Delphine crouched over between bites. Delphine glanced at her when she sat down, and continued her conversation with Dr. N'Jikam in French.

Cosima ate her salad and listened, picking out about half of what Delphine said and less than a quarter of what Dr. N'Jikam said. She'd read that Cameroonian French was a little different than Canadian or Parisian French, but she hadn't expected such a great difference. But then, Delphine wasn't having any such difficulties. From what Cosima understood, they talked about the Yemeni refugee crisis, camps, transportation options, and money, and then Dr. N'Jikam said something that made Delphine laugh. Cosima raised her eyebrows at her, hoping for a translation, but none came.

At the end of the meal, Delphine excused herself to use the restroom, letting Cosima handle paying for the meal.

“How was it?” she asked Dr. N'Jikam.

“Pardon? Oh, it was excellent,” he said. He dabbed at his lips with the napkin and smiled at her. “Thank you.”

“You're very welcome,” Cosima said. The food and the rain made her sleepy, but she needed to keep up appearances. “So, uh, how long have you been with MSF?”

“A long time. Twenty years, almost. And I've been, oh, I've been everywhere.” He laughed at that, so she smiled along. “But we've been talking the whole time, and you've said very little. Tell me, Miss Nyehouse, is it Nyehouse or Neuhaus? I can't remember.”

“Uh, Niehaus, actually, but that's not important.”

“It's important to me.” Another grin. “So tell me, Miss Niehaus, how long are you working for Dr. Cormier?”

“Well, I've been working with her for about three years now.”

“Three years, okay. I've known her for almost five years, since right after her doctorate. I wasn't aware before that she had any students.”

“She doesn't.”

He paused, hand midair on its way to adjust his glasses. “No? I thought that...”

“Wait, did she tell you that I'm her student?”

Dr. N'Jikam did not miss the way Cosima leaned over the table as she spoke, and he leaned back to compensate. “Oh,” he laughed, “I don't remember! You know, as we age, ours minds are not so good.”

“Right. Okay.”

He left as soon as Delphine got back, shaking their hands again and repeating his best wishes and his pleasure at having met them both. Delphine promised to keep in touch throughout their travels.

At the elevators, Cosima told Delphine, “You know, if you didn't need me to be there, you could have just said so.”

Delphine rolled her head around on her shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

“You know I understood like, less than half of that entire conversation. You made it pretty obvious you didn't need my contribution.”

Delphine sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. An elevator at the end of the row dinged, and they hustled to get on it along with a gaggle of rain soaked tourists. They flattened themselves against the back wall. “He prefers speaking in French,” Delphine said.

“Does he really. English didn't seem to be much an issue for him when we first sat down, or after you'd gone to the bathroom.”

The elevator stopped to let some people off at the third floor, and replace them with a Japanese couple in bath robes, fresh from the third floor sauna. Cosima could have been at the sauna during that entire lunch, and it wouldn't have mattered. Whatever.

“How about our patient?” she asked. “You said she was difficult.”

“She refused the vaccination. Nothing I said, nothing her doctor said, convinced her, and she left without it. After talking my ears off about every medical problem she's ever had, and how doctors are responsible for every single one of them.”

“Oh sh... shoot, really?” That had never happened before. Usually, once the doctor explained it, the patient accepted the vaccine. The trick was often just getting them into the doctor's office to begin with.

“Really. She claims that vaccines made her infertile.”

The elevator stopped at the eighth floor and let out everyone else, then moved on up to the tenth, where Cosima and Delphine got off.

“The doctor is trying to bring her back the day after tomorrow,” Delphine said. “If she still refuses, though...”

“She won't. We'll think of something.” Cosima reached for her arm, but Delphine moved away to unlocked the door and push it open.

Inside the room, Delphine set up her papers on her bed, and sat in the armchair next to it with her laptop. “Dr. N'Jikam sent us both a list of other contacts we should talk to. Some are in Libya, which he doesn't know as much about, but cautions us against visiting.”

Cosima opened her laptop on the desk. She had had other ideas for the afternoon, especially since it seemed they'd be staying in Sousse longer than originally planned. Delphine was buried in her work, though, chewing on a thumbnail, so Cosima might as well follow suit.

“Great. Sounds like a perfect afternoon.”

* * *

That night, after pouring over Dr. N'Jikam's information, calling and emailing his contacts in Yemen, Libya, and a Jordanian refugee camp, and a last minute phone call with one of Art's Arabic translators, the walls of their little hotel room were pressing in against both of them. Cosima's eyes hurt from differentiating tiny Arabic words from other tiny Arabic words and staring at screens, but there was one more email to write.

Dear Dr. Lacrabére,

I was directed to you by Dr. Simplice N'Jikam of Médecins Sans Frontières because

“It goes the other way.”

“Huh?”

Delphine stood behind her, one hand in her damp hair. “It's Dr. Lacrabère, not Lacrabére. You need the accent grave, not aigu.”

“Oh. Shit. Thank you.”

Delphine walked on towards their suitcase and said, “It's not Spanish.”

“Yeah, I'm aware of that, thanks.” She finished the email, watching Delphine's eyebrows do that sarcastic little wiggle in her peripheral vision. “By the way, did you tell Dr. N'Jikam that I'm your student?”

“What?”

“He thought I was your student. Like, your graduate student or something.”

Delphine dug around her suitcase for a bottle of lotion. “I don't know why. I introduced you as my research partner. You were there when I introduced you, yes?”

“Well, yeah, but...”

“But what?”

“I dunno. It was just weird, that's all.”

“Okay.” She sat on the edge of her bed and rubbed lotion into feet. “You should take your shower now, so you're not up too late. I'm going to talk to the doctor at the clinic again tomorrow.”

Cosima refrained from replying with “yes, Dr. Cormier,” but she got up and gathered her shower things. At the bathroom door she turned back and saw Delphine massaging lotion into her left calf, her eyes closed.

The hotel bathroom was nice, with a bathtub and strong water pressure from the shower head. She let the water beat against her back, her head bowed. When she got out of the shower later, Delphine would probably be in bed. A different bed, because of course no one could know they were lovers, so they had separate twin beds. Again. Delphine's eyes would be covered, and she'd be turned away from Cosima because the light was on Cosima's side of the room. She would not want to talk, either about important topics or trivial ones. And then she would get up early in the morning to try convincing their sister here in Sousse that she needed a vaccine. And Cosima would.... what?

Maybe she'd stay in tomorrow. The forecast called for more rain, after all. She could work on her dissertation, enter more data and run some preliminary stats on them. She could go back to the restaurant and drink a couple more gallons of mint tea. She could stay in bed all day, and it wouldn't make much of a difference.

She turned off the shower and leaned against the tile wall. How long would it take for Delphine to wonder what she was doing in here, or what was taking her so long? Or was Delphine still so annoyed with her that she was happy to have Cosima out of the bedroom for a while?

The steam from the shower swirling around her, she slid down in the bathtub, her face in her hands. Tears pushed out of her eyes before she could stop them, and then she was sobbing.

A minute or so later, the door opened, and Cosima took some deep breaths to try to gain some control, hands still over her face.

“Cosima? Hey, hey, hey....” And then Delphine's hands were on her neck, and her arm was around her shoulders. “Shh... come here.”

She leaned onto Delphine's shoulder and cried some more, soaking her T-shirt and clinging to her arms with wet fingers. “I'm sorry,” she managed. “I'm sorry.”

“For what?”

“For not seeing your messages, for not knowing French better, for not helping you cure the Ledas, for everything.”

Delphine stroked her arms and her back and kissed her head. “Chérie, it's okay. I don't expect you to know French very well, and you cannot help me with the Ledas any more than you already are. You know that. You already do so much for them, anyway. And the thing with the messages was just a mistake, a misunderstanding. It's okay.”

“It didn't seem that okay earlier.”

Delphine's chest rose and fell as she sighed. “I was just... irritated earlier. That's all. I'm sorry I took it out on you.”

Cosima held on to her, nose in the crook of her neck. Delphine had some new jasmine-scented body wash that smelled okay, but didn't smell like Delphine. Cosima wanted her to smell liked Delphine again, goddammit. “I love you,” she whispered.

“I know. Je t'aime aussi.” She kissed her eyes, her lips, and the tip of her nose. “We should get you out of this tub, though.”

“Yeah, this isn't very comfortable.” She let Delphine help her out of the tub and into a towel. “Are you still mad at me?”

“No,” Delphine said. “I was, but I'm not anymore.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I was a little bit pissed at you, too.”

“Are you still?”

She shook her head and finished drying herself off. “No, not anymore. I... I can see why you were upset. I should've just kept my phone out the whole time so I'd see your messages, and...”

Delphine folded the towel in half and hung it up on the rod next to hers. “Maybe. I don't think I would've been quite so upset with you if you hadn't been talking to that girl, though, if we're being completely honest.”

“That girl?” Cosima smiled now as she pulled on her shorts. “She's, like, our age or older.”

“Oh? Is she?”

There was an edge in Delphine's voice, so Cosima put her hands on Delphine's waist. “I didn't ask, and she didn't tell me. There is nothing for you to worry about. I'm engaged to you, and nobody else.” She kissed her, but pulled back after a moment. “I mean, we are still engaged, aren't we?”

Delphine's laugh turned into a cough. “Yes, we are still engaged! Just because we can't tell everyone doesn't change that fact. Now come on, let's go to bed.”

Cosima tucked herself into bed and watched Delphine tweeze her eyebrows with the help of a pocket mirror. Delphine did that most nights, and some mornings, sometimes also yanking hairs from her nostrils in ways that made Cosima's eyes water just watching her do it. “What would your eyebrows look like if you didn't do that?” she asked.

“Euhh... let's not find out, okay?” She got one more hair from her left eyebrow and closed the mirror, then turned off the overhead light and sat on the edge of Cosima's bed, looking down at her. “I want to stay attractive for you as long as possible.”

“Yeah, same here. I mean, for myself. For you.” She wasn't terribly attractive at the moment, of course, but she wasn't going to bring that up.

Delphine rubbed Cosima's abdomen through the blankets. “I'm sorry the beds are so small.”

“It's not your fault. And it's not forever. Here.” She scooted all the way to one side and pulled the blanket back. “You can climb in for a minute if you want.”

“A minute.” Delphine stretched herself out under the heavy blankets and faced Cosima. “I think we're both very tired.”

“Yeah, and you're still sick, even if you're moving around better.” She linked her fingers with Delphine's. “I don't want you to think that I don't appreciate everything you do. For us, I mean. For all of us.”

Delphine kissed her eyes, damp again with tears. “I don't think that. I know that you do.”

“Good.”

“And I don't do any of it by myself. I couldn't do any of it by myself, and I would never want to.”

Cosima thought of Delphine earlier that day, spending hours trying to convince a clone that she had a condition that would kill her one day. “Do you want me to go to the clinic with you? To try convincing our skeptical Tunisian sister?”

Delphine gave an amused little huff. “I would like that very much, but I'm not sure it's a good idea.”

“Right. Probably not.” She tucked herself as close to Delphine as possible, angling her face so that Delphine wasn't breathing directly into her eyes. Delphine wiggled her arm so she could hold Cosima's hand between their faces.

“Of course she's allowed to refuse, but I have some ideas that might convince her.”

“Ideas that don't involve clone disclosure.”

“Of course.”

“Are we still doing our five day rule if she keeps refusing?”

Delphine groaned. “No. I think, if she refuses a second time, we let her refuse, and we move on. She'll have our information, we'll have hers, and we can always come back. I am not arguing with her for five days.”

“Fair enough. That sounds like a plan, then. We really do need to come up with a decent name for this disease, though. Maybe not tonight, but some time before we've cured everybody.”

“I've been thinking of one, actually. I thought of it today, when Inès was questioning everything I said.”

“Yeah?” Cosima propped herself up a few inches. “Can I hear it?”

“I was thinking we could call it Fitzsimmon's Carcinoma.”

Cosima remembered the chipper swim coach whose body had taught them so much about what their disease was and the ways that it couldn't be treated, and she smiled. “I like it.”

“I hoped you would.” She pulled Cosima closer and snuggled against her body. “I didn't want to name it without your permission.”

“Well, you have my enthusiastic permission to use it. I'll tell the sestras tomorrow.” She yawned into Delphine's chest and kissed her her collarbone. “Je t'aime,” she whispered.

Delphine giggled. “I love you, too. Very much.”

And with one hand tucked into Delphine's, and the fingers on her other hand hooked on the waist of Delphine's shorts, Cosima drifted off to sleep.

[doycetopia]

The Real Dark Side of Star Wars: Spoilers

[This is a repost of a post I wrote about two years, which has inexplicably disappeared from the site.]

I need to talk about something pretty shitty, but it requires a little background information, first.

Many of you probably already know this background info, but some of you don’t, so I’m filling it in for them; everyone else, please bear with.

I doubt it will surprise anyone to know I’m a long time Star Wars fan boy.

Am I the biggest Star Wars fan boy who’s ever lived? No, most certainly not.

In fact (and this bit will shock the less-super-nerdy out there), there are groups of folks out in the world who, after examining the extent of my exposure to Star Wars “stuff”, would decide quite seriously that I’m not a real Star Wars fan at all, or at least not a serious one.

The funny thing is, it’s hard to even explain this without getting at least somewhat nerdy, but I’m going to try. (In my head, as I write this, I’m talking to my sister, which is how I approach more posts than anyone would imagine.)

Now, a lot of people – most people – who say they like Star Wars mean they like the movies, because that is literally the only Star Wars thing they know about. I’m going to call these folks “mainstream fans.”

Obviously (because as a species, we really can’t leave this kind of shit alone) there is a lot more Star Wars stuff out there – more stuff than you’d readily believe. Games, of course. Comics – fucking walls of comics – and enough novels to fill a library.

Collectively, all the stuff that isn’t the movies has been (until recently) referred to as the Star Wars “Extended Universe” or “EU”. The quality of the stuff varies, and by “varies” I mean some of it is pretty good, and some of it is pants-on-head fucking idiocy that makes Jar Jar Binks look as cool as Chewbacca, by comparison.

How does stuff like that get the official stamp of approval? Pretty simple: George Lucas really likes making money, and people are willing to pay him a whole shit ton of money to play in his backyard, so he lets them write novels with Force-nullifying space-sloths (yes, seriously) and puts the Official Rubber Stamp on it, because (a) he got money and (b) he knew if he ever came out with a movie that contradicted stuff people had written, his version would invalidate all the drek he’d authorized in the past, so who cares?

In general, I don’t follow the EU stuff, and (with the exception of the first Star Wars roleplaying game that anyone licensed) don’t know much about it.

The quick summary: there is miles and miles of EU stuff, set anywhere from 30 thousand years before to several hundred years after the movies ‘mainstream fans’ know; the whole thing is an virtually unchartable hot mess…

And there are fans out there who know every single inch of it. Or most of it. Certainly more of it than I do. I’ll call them super-fans.

Now: I have no beef with those super-fans. None.

Okay so far? Good.

Now: Enter Disney.

A few years ago, Disney acquired the rights to the Star Wars intellectual property and announced they were going to start doing stuff with it, and that George Lucas wouldn’t have very much if anything to do with it. (Which, after the prequels, was kind of a relief to hear.)

And Disney took a long look at the Extended Universe stuff and, after some thought, said “Yeah that’s… nice and all… but… yeah. None of that shit is official anymore.”

Basically, they boiled down “Official Star Wars” to the movies, the Clone Wars animated series that ran a few years ago, and whatever stuff they make from here on out (like the totally amazing and fun Star Wars Rebels show, a couple new novels, and of course the new movies coming out).

All that EU stuff? It’s not the “Extended Universe” anymore; it’s “Star Wars Legends” which, honestly, I think is a great name – it implies these are stories about the Star Wars universe (which they are, of course) but just that: stories. Unverifiable. Unverified. Unofficial. Enjoy them if you want – please, by all means – but know them for what they are.

Most – and I do mean most – super-fans were fine with this: they get to keep the stuff they’re into, and they get the biggest pop-culture engine in the world cranking out new Star Wars stuff until the heat-death of the universe finally invalidates Disney’s copyrights.

Some of the super-fans are not happy, and have decided to be unapologetically shitty human beings about the whole thing. I will call this small, vocal-like-a-screaming-howler-monkey subset of super-fans the “spoiler fans,” and here’s why:

These people have decided that it’s not enough that they have this stuff they like. Because Disney has said it’s not official stuff anymore, that somehow makes it impossible to love that stuff as much as they once did – their love is somehow capped by its lack of an official stamp, and this cannot be allowed to stand.

What do they want? This is pretty funny, actually: they don’t just want Disney to go back and say “okay, that stuff is still at least as official as it was when George Lucas was taking your money and planning on invalidating anything he felt like, whenever he felt like it” – they (apparently) want Disney to keep making EU stuff, in addition to the stuff Disney is already making.

“Well, that’s nice,” you might say, “maybe they want a pony, too?”

And yeah, it’s kind of funny, until you realize the internet has allowed shitty people to be shitty on a far greater scale.

See, they’re trying to hold Star Wars hostage to get Disney to do what they want.

How? They have vowed that they will spoil each and every spoil-able moment in the new movie as loudly and as broadly as possible (which, today, is pretty loud and pretty broad), if Disney doesn’t cave.

You’ve probably seen those image memes on Facebook or whatever, asking people not to spoil the movie. I have, and thought “yeah, it would suck to be spoiled ahead of time.”

Because that can happen by accident. Well-meaning, happy, enthusiastic fans can get on the internet and broadcast out to their friends, joyfully exclaiming about all the stuff they loved about the movie, and accidentally spoil something for someone who hasn’t seen it yet, because how have you not seen it yet?!?

This isn’t that. This is not an accidental thing. This is not your friend loving the movie so much he spills something.

This is a guy standing outside the movie theater before The Empire Strikes Back, waiting for the line to form, and then telling every single person in line “Darth Vader is Luke’s dad.”

Except the guy has a megaphone the whole world can hear, if they aren’t careful, and he shouts the message at unexpected times.

I’m telling you about this, because it already happened to me, and I don’t want it to happen to you.

I leaned about this little movement of spoiler-fans via a friend’s post on Google+.

The very first comment to that post was one of these guys, and all he posted was a spoiler, and I am pretty sure he spoiled probably the biggest plot twist in the movie for me.

Now, obviously, I haven’t seen the movie yet, so how do I know?

Let me put it this way: if that guy who came up to you in line at Empire Strikes Back had said, perfectly straight-faced “Darth Vader is Luke’s dad,” would you have believed him?

Maybe you think about it a bit, and it syncs up with everything you know about the movies thus far, and it syncs up with what you’ve seen in the trailers, and it just seems like a very Star Wars-y plot twist.

Maybe you don’t believe it, completely and totally, but you believe it enough that you will sit down in the theater and, basically, spend the whole movie waiting for that moment to come. Or not.

Even if it doesn’t, you will not have enjoyed the movie as much as you might have, because you were distracted. And if it does happen just as that guy said? Well.

That’s the kind of thing this guy posted. One line. Ten words, and there goes my 100% unmitigated enjoyment of the new movie.

Now, shut up: this isn’t about me. Yes, you’re very sorry about this happening. Yes. I love you. Thank you, now shut up for a sec.

Listen.

These fuckers are out there. They are doing this on purpose. They’re enjoyment of their pile of stuff has been somehow – idiotically – damaged; Disney made their Masters-level knowledge of a made-up universe less important than it already was, so they have decided to shit on every other person who wants to enjoy the new movie, because (apparently) “Fuck anyone who is enjoying themselves, if I am not.”

I don’t care about me. I’ve watched Empire Strikes Back probably thirty times, if not more, and I know – know I will enjoy it when I watch it again, because I’ll be watching it with my kids, and the shine hasn’t come off for them.

Because of that, I know I will enjoy this new movie when I watch it, because I will be watching it with my kids and even if I don’t feel the same sense of surprise and wonder as I might have, they will, and I will still get to feel that, through them.

And I know they will get to feel that, because I’m going to protect them from these… infantile man-children and their shit-spattering temper-tantrum.

Now: why did I write all this? Because I want to try to protect you, too.

When you see spoiler warnings, heed them. Stop thinking of spoilers as “that one little thing my super-happy friend let out after he saw the movie” and start thinking “halitosis-reeking stranger who wants to dip his filthy index finger in my morning coffee.”

From here until you see the movies, absolutely avoid comment sections on any Star Wars-related post on any kind of social media.

Just… for a few days, expect people you don’t know to be kind of shitty for no good reason.

I realize that’s kind of a downer message, but seriously: I want you to enjoy the movie.

And also, yeah: I want those petty fuckers to lose, because fuck them.

(Comments on this post are disabled, for obvious reasons.)

original post

[marimbistchick]

Ok if nobody else has asked yet, for the Voltron Ask Meme- all of them. Just, all of them, every single one. Please :)

*cracks knuckles* Alright, here we go.

***********

Voltron: Which Lion do you think you would pilot? Why?

Ok, this one is probably obvious from my icon, but the black lion. If you'd asked me several months ago before I'd been forced to put actual thought into it (thanks guys) I'd probably have said green, but... no, black fits better. I'm the mom friend. I could be having a mental breakdown and I'd still make sure that everyone else was alright and help them when possible. Correction, I HAVE done that (PSA: don't do that, take care of yourself too folks). As much as I joke about wanting to fight people and probably would if ABSOLUTELY necessary, I'm a pretty level-headed person, and tend to consider all ideas and sides of a story before acting. I don't often actively seek out leadership, but I do tend to naturally fall into that roll for projects and stuff. If no one else is stepping up (which happens surprisingly often), I will.

Shiro: If you were given the chance to change the past, would you?

Hmmmmm... there are lots of things that I wish had gone differently, both in my own life and in history. But there's no way of knowing how far those ripples would spread, and my past has shaped me into me. So no, I wouldn't, though I'd probably always wonder what would happen if I did.

Keith: Do you consider yourself an aggressive or passive person?

I like to consider myself to be pretty balanced, but I suppose that I'm more on the passive side, though I was more aggressive when I was younger. I'm not passive in the way that I would let people walk all over me, but I don't seek out fights, and avoid them if possible. If it's something relatively minor (like a family member with some remarks that I'm not comfortable with), sometimes I'll keep my mouth shut to keep the peace. Though it might be worth mentioning that if someone ELSE is hurt by said comment, I'm absolutely calling the person out. Politely at first, but I have gotten rather confrontational on behalf of others before.

Lance: Are you a flirtatious person? Lance level flirting?

Oh god. No. I'm so emotionally constipated, sometimes I even have trouble flirting in the conventional sense with my boyfriend. However, I will absolutely play-flirt with my friends shamelessly if the situation arises.

Hunk: Do you know how to cook/bake?

YES! BOTH! I'm nowhere near Hunk level, because that boy could probably open a 5 star restaurant, but I am pretty good. When I'm living at home with my family I tend to bake more than I cook, just because I'm the only one in the house who's really any good at it in general. Through lots of practice my mom has gotten really good at baking bread, but we all know that my cookies and muffins always come out better (despite using the same recipe).

Pidge: Who are the people you value the most?

My friends and family, specifically my parents and brother. Well, my friends may as well be family. I'm big on the found-family trope, both in fiction and real life. I feel it worth a shout out that, like Pidge, my brother is named Matt, and I would ALSO do some crazy shit for him. We're twins, and I can't imagine life without him (even if we drive each other crazy sometimes).

Allura: What would be the first thing you do if you wake up after 10,000 years?

Honestly? Probably have a panic attack to end all panic attacks.

Coran: What was your worst “phase”?

Um. Probably when I was like 12 and discovered social media and texting for the first time. I'd use all the abbreviations when I texted people (through WiFi and an app on my iPod), and I remember playing that game on Facebook where you answer questions about your friends. Which might not sound too bad, but I didn't know what some of the terms meant and answered the questions anyway based on (wrong) assumptions of what was really being asked. I think back on all interactions I had and feel a tidal wave of embarrassment.

Zarkon: Do you think revenge is wrong?

To an extent. I think that a little bit might be fine (I can be mildly petty sometimes), but I also think that if you go for it then you need to watch yourself very carefully. It would be far too easy to cross a line that you really shouldn't.

Haggar: Are you obsessed over something? Someone?

I tend to switch between obsessing over works of fiction with no stop in between. Currently it's Voltron.

Lotor: What would you be exiled for?

As is? Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't really have the opportunity to do anything exile-worthy. Assuming that I'm living in an evil space empire? Treason.

Galra Empire: Who is your favorite Galra character?

Does Keith count? I'm assuming that he doesn't. Ooooh boy, this is tough. Acxa is a badass babe, and I'm really curious about Kolivan. But I guess going from what we've actually seen, I have to say Lotor. I wouldn't like him as an actual person, but so far I think that he's an amazing villain, and I'm excited to see more of him. Also he has a gorgeous voice

Blade of Marmora: Who has the best character design?

I haven't really thought about this much, to be honest. I guess I'll go with Honerva/Haggar, just because you can see the gradual shift over time and I thought that it was really well done.

Matt Holt: Do you more “nerdy” or “sporty”?

I definitely have a sporty side, but "nerdy" wins by a long shot. I'll geek out over pretty much anything, but neuroscience and music are top subjects.

Balmerans: Are you good at reading at other peoples emotions?

YES. Too good sometimes, I think. I'm ridiculously empathetic, to the point that it can be painful. If I'm around people who are upset, I'll often either get angry myself, or incredibly anxious. It led to being called "too sensitive" quite a lot when I was younger.

Olkari: Do you have a close connection with nature?

Mmmmm, I wouldn't exactly say "close". I do enjoy it. I LOVE the feeling of wind on my face, and the smell after it rains. I like hiking and climbing rocks and waterfalls. The sun feels really nice when I'm not doing anything. But then we get to the things that I DON'T like. Bugs are NOT my thing at all, and I burn and overheat very easily. So I'd say that I have some mixed feelings when my appreciation of nature is actually put into practice.

Kuron: Would you want a clone of yourself? Why?

No. That would be way too weird. In theory it might be amusing or even useful, but... it brings up some existential questions that I'd rather not ponder.

Honerva: Do you have any pets?

My family has a dog, and I have a cat! His name is Legolas, but we call him "Lego" for short pretty often, since people keep mis-hearing his name as "Legless". He's a goofball, and I love him dearly. He likes to act tough around people (if he'll stop hiding from them), but he's a huge mama's boy and everyone knows it.

Alfor: What is your best friend like?

Um. I can't pick just one. But I have a group of friends who are very dear to me, and we're moving into an apartment a bit off campus in a couple of weeks. We're all huge queer nerds, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I could write an essay about them if I'd let myself.

Weblum: What is your favorite Voltron episode?

Before season 3, it was Blade of Marmora. But now it might just be The Legend Begins, because I'm always a slut for backstory.

Slav: What are your ships? No discourse allowed.

Eh, I'm a pretty neutral party/multi-shipper. I have come to actually really like Keith/Lance and Hunk/Pidge, but in general I tend to like pairings in the context of specific works.

Sven: Would you sacrifice your life for someone you barely know?

I'd like to be noble and say yes, but probably not. I would definitely try to help them, but I'd likely prioritize my own life.

Space Mice: What are your favorite animals?

Oh my god, asking the tough questions here. The answer flips a lot, but if I narrow it down to animals that I have experience with, then probably cats.

KALTENECKER: Who is your favorite Voltron character?

PIDGE!!! But Keith has been steadily squirming his way into my heart as well.

Paladin: When did you start watching Voltron?

I think it was around late September/Early October of 2016.

[morganbelarus]

I’m sick of seeing ‘Stories’ in every friggin’ app

Image: mashable

This needs to stop. Please make it stop.

I'm not just talking about Trump making idiotic moves like pulling the U.S. out of the Paris Agreement. (There seems to be no stopping Mr. Tiny Hands from flipping the bird to everything that we hold dear.)

No, I'm talking about apps shamefully ripping off Snapchat Stories.

SEE ALSO: Deciding where to post on social media is too damn hard now

As I've said many times before, this is all Facebook's fault.

When Instagram (a Facebook-owned company) cloned the crap out of Snapchat Stories a year ago, we all shook our heads, pointed our fingers, and laughed at how scared it must have been to copy one of Snapchat's core features.

And then everyone caved in and started using it. Whether that's because Instagram is a larger platform or Instagram Stories is easier to use than Snapchat Stories it doesn't matter. People love Instagram Stories and it's destroying all of Snapchat.

I admit, I tried my best to resist Instagram Stories I already used Snapchat Stories, so why would I want to use a copycat? but I gave in a few weeks ago, and now I rarely post anything to Snapchat Stories. Like my colleague Damon Beres wrote: I'm starting to love Instagram Stories more than Snapchat because I'm incredibly thirsty. I'm glugging down what Instagram is serving and I don't care anymore.

Instagram's CEO Kevin Systrom said he doesn't think of Instagram Stories as just cloning Snapchat Stories, but considers "Stories" to be a desirable format for storytelling. It's like messaging. There are tons of messaging apps, but they're all fundamentally the same: you type out messages and they appear as bubbles.

I guess that's true, but it doesn't change the fact that Instagram ripped Snapchat off.

Nobody's hanging on Skype waiting for things to get lit.

No doubt, the success of Instagram Stories gave Facebook the confidence to paste "Stories" into its other apps. In January the Facebook app added Stories. Then, in February, Facebook-owned WhatsApp got its own Stories in the form of an updated "Status." And in March, Facebook Messenger also got Stories with "Messenger Day."

Despite seemingly nobody using Facebook Stories WhatsApp's Status has 175 million daily users and it's not clear how many people are using Messenger Day others are now following in Facebook's footsteps of copying Snapchat Stories.

The latest app to rip off Snapchat Stories is Skype with its "Highlights" yeah, Skype, the app that ushered in VoIP to the masses and is about as cool as Microsoft Word. That is, they're both still widely used, but come on, nobody's hanging on Skype waiting for things to get lit. Skype is a utility, like the telephone, and you log in to chat with a person and then you log off.

Fine, Skype's trying to reinvent itself to court the youngs. There's nothing wrong with that except I fear that this is only the beginning. By the end of the year, I expect more apps to add a "Stories" feature. What's next? Twitter Stories? Uber Stories? Apple Maps Stories? Apple Music Stories?

Product designer Rafael Conde perfectly visualized the Stories-fication of apps a few months ago:

Introducing Music Stories! Share selfies of you listening to music with all your friends. http://pic.twitter.com/nu9bxk6fMY

Rafael Conde (@rafahari) March 22, 2017

Introducing Maps Stories! Stuck in traffic? Share how bored you are with all your friends! http://pic.twitter.com/zhkEwJVtsS

Rafael Conde (@rafahari) March 22, 2017

LMFAO. Seriously, just LMFAO.

I cracked up when my colleague Stan Schroeder tweeted this last month:

I bought a sandwich today and it didnt have a stories feature. I demand my money back.

Stan Schroeder (@franticnews) May 5, 2017

He's not alone. Look at all these jokesters.

Stories may be the hot new thing at the moment, but you can't just force it into every app and expect people will jump onboard and lap it up. It needs to make sense. Stories, I'm sorry, Highlights, don't make any sense on Skype. Skype is not a damn social platform. It's a tunnel for connecting you to other people directly, not a nightclub like Snapchat or Instagram.

So, app developers. Look at your app. Does it need a Stories feature? The answer is probably no. OK then, stop it before I delete your app.

WATCH: World travelers will love this suitcase that doubles as a scooter

More From this publisher : HERE

=> *********************************************** Originally Published Here: I’m sick of seeing ‘Stories’ in every friggin’ app ************************************ =>

I’m sick of seeing ‘Stories’ in every friggin’ app was originally posted by 16 MP Just news

[doycetopia]

The Real Dark Side of Star Wars: Spoilers

[This is a repost of a post I wrote about two years, which has inexplicably disappeared from the site.]

I need to talk about something pretty shitty, but it requires a little background information, first.

Many of you probably already know this background info, but some of you don’t, so I’m filling it in for them; everyone else, please bear with.

I doubt it will surprise anyone to know I’m a long time Star Wars fan boy.

Am I the biggest Star Wars fan boy who’s ever lived? No, most certainly not.

In fact (and this bit will shock the less-super-nerdy out there), there are groups of folks out in the world who, after examining the extent of my exposure to Star Wars “stuff”, would decide quite seriously that I’m not a real Star Wars fan at all, or at least not a serious one.

The funny thing is, it’s hard to even explain this without getting at least somewhat nerdy, but I’m going to try. (In my head, as I write this, I’m talking to my sister, which is how I approach more posts than anyone would imagine.)

Now, a lot of people – most people – who say they like Star Wars mean they like the movies, because that is literally the only Star Wars thing they know about. I’m going to call these folks “mainstream fans.”

Obviously (because as a species, we really can’t leave this kind of shit alone) there is a lot more Star Wars stuff out there – more stuff than you’d readily believe. Games, of course. Comics – fucking walls of comics – and enough novels to fill a library.

Collectively, all the stuff that isn’t the movies has been (until recently) referred to as the Star Wars “Extended Universe” or “EU”. The quality of the stuff varies, and by “varies” I mean some of it is pretty good, and some of it is pants-on-head fucking idiocy that makes Jar Jar Binks look as cool as Chewbacca, by comparison.

How does stuff like that get the official stamp of approval? Pretty simple: George Lucas really likes making money, and people are willing to pay him a whole shit ton of money to play in his backyard, so he lets them write novels with Force-nullifying space-sloths (yes, seriously) and puts the Official Rubber Stamp on it, because (a) he got money and (b) he knew if he ever came out with a movie that contradicted stuff people had written, his version would invalidate all the drek he’d authorized in the past, so who cares?

In general, I don’t follow the EU stuff, and (with the exception of the first Star Wars roleplaying game that anyone licensed) don’t know much about it.

The quick summary: there is miles and miles of EU stuff, set anywhere from 30 thousand years before to several hundred years after the movies ‘mainstream fans’ know; the whole thing is an virtually unchartable hot mess…

And there are fans out there who know every single inch of it. Or most of it. Certainly more of it than I do. I’ll call them super-fans.

Now: I have no beef with those super-fans. None.

Okay so far? Good.

Now: Enter Disney.

A few years ago, Disney acquired the rights to the Star Wars intellectual property and announced they were going to start doing stuff with it, and that George Lucas wouldn’t have very much if anything to do with it. (Which, after the prequels, was kind of a relief to hear.)

And Disney took a long look at the Extended Universe stuff and, after some thought, said “Yeah that’s… nice and all… but… yeah. None of that shit is official anymore.”

Basically, they boiled down “Official Star Wars” to the movies, the Clone Wars animated series that ran a few years ago, and whatever stuff they make from here on out (like the totally amazing and fun Star Wars Rebels show, a couple new novels, and of course the new movies coming out).

All that EU stuff? It’s not the “Extended Universe” anymore; it’s “Star Wars Legends” which, honestly, I think is a great name – it implies these are stories about the Star Wars universe (which they are, of course) but just that: stories. Unverifiable. Unverified. Unofficial. Enjoy them if you want – please, by all means – but know them for what they are.

Most – and I do mean most – super-fans were fine with this: they get to keep the stuff they’re into, and they get the biggest pop-culture engine in the world cranking out new Star Wars stuff until the heat-death of the universe finally invalidates Disney’s copyrights.

Some of the super-fans are not happy, and have decided to be unapologetically shitty human beings about the whole thing. I will call this small, vocal-like-a-screaming-howler-monkey subset of super-fans the “spoiler fans,” and here’s why:

These people have decided that it’s not enough that they have this stuff they like. Because Disney has said it’s not official stuff anymore, that somehow makes it impossible to love that stuff as much as they once did – their love is somehow capped by its lack of an official stamp, and this cannot be allowed to stand.

What do they want? This is pretty funny, actually: they don’t just want Disney to go back and say “okay, that stuff is still at least as official as it was when George Lucas was taking your money and planning on invalidating anything he felt like, whenever he felt like it” – they (apparently) want Disney to keep making EU stuff, in addition to the stuff Disney is already making.

“Well, that’s nice,” you might say, “maybe they want a pony, too?”

And yeah, it’s kind of funny, until you realize the internet has allowed shitty people to be shitty on a far greater scale.

See, they’re trying to hold Star Wars hostage to get Disney to do what they want.

How? They have vowed that they will spoil each and every spoil-able moment in the new movie as loudly and as broadly as possible (which, today, is pretty loud and pretty broad), if Disney doesn’t cave.

You’ve probably seen those image memes on Facebook or whatever, asking people not to spoil the movie. I have, and thought “yeah, it would suck to be spoiled ahead of time.”

Because that can happen by accident. Well-meaning, happy, enthusiastic fans can get on the internet and broadcast out to their friends, joyfully exclaiming about all the stuff they loved about the movie, and accidentally spoil something for someone who hasn’t seen it yet, because how have you not seen it yet?!?

This isn’t that. This is not an accidental thing. This is not your friend loving the movie so much he spills something.

This is a guy standing outside the movie theater before The Empire Strikes Back, waiting for the line to form, and then telling every single person in line “Darth Vader is Luke’s dad.”

Except the guy has a megaphone the whole world can hear, if they aren’t careful, and he shouts the message at unexpected times.

I’m telling you about this, because it already happened to me, and I don’t want it to happen to you.

I leaned about this little movement of spoiler-fans via a friend’s post on Google+.

The very first comment to that post was one of these guys, and all he posted was a spoiler, and I am pretty sure he spoiled probably the biggest plot twist in the movie for me.

Now, obviously, I haven’t seen the movie yet, so how do I know?

Let me put it this way: if that guy who came up to you in line at Empire Strikes Back had said, perfectly straight-faced “Darth Vader is Luke’s dad,” would you have believed him?

Maybe you think about it a bit, and it syncs up with everything you know about the movies thus far, and it syncs up with what you’ve seen in the trailers, and it just seems like a very Star Wars-y plot twist.

Maybe you don’t believe it, completely and totally, but you believe it enough that you will sit down in the theater and, basically, spend the whole movie waiting for that moment to come. Or not.

Even if it doesn’t, you will not have enjoyed the movie as much as you might have, because you were distracted. And if it does happen just as that guy said? Well.

That’s the kind of thing this guy posted. One line. Ten words, and there goes my 100% unmitigated enjoyment of the new movie.

Now, shut up: this isn’t about me. Yes, you’re very sorry about this happening. Yes. I love you. Thank you, now shut up for a sec.

Listen.

These fuckers are out there. They are doing this on purpose. They’re enjoyment of their pile of stuff has been somehow – idiotically – damaged; Disney made their Masters-level knowledge of a made-up universe less important than it already was, so they have decided to shit on every other person who wants to enjoy the new movie, because (apparently) “Fuck anyone who is enjoying themselves, if I am not.”

I don’t care about me. I’ve watched Empire Strikes Back probably thirty times, if not more, and I know – know I will enjoy it when I watch it again, because I’ll be watching it with my kids, and the shine hasn’t come off for them.

Because of that, I know I will enjoy this new movie when I watch it, because I will be watching it with my kids and even if I don’t feel the same sense of surprise and wonder as I might have, they will, and I will still get to feel that, through them.

And I know they will get to feel that, because I’m going to protect them from these… infantile man-children and their shit-spattering temper-tantrum.

Now: why did I write all this? Because I want to try to protect you, too.

When you see spoiler warnings, heed them. Stop thinking of spoilers as “that one little thing my super-happy friend let out after he saw the movie” and start thinking “halitosis-reeking stranger who wants to dip his filthy index finger in my morning coffee.”

From here until you see the movies, absolutely avoid comment sections on any Star Wars-related post on any kind of social media.

Just… for a few days, expect people you don’t know to be kind of shitty for no good reason.

I realize that’s kind of a downer message, but seriously: I want you to enjoy the movie.

And also, yeah: I want those petty fuckers to lose, because fuck them.

(Comments on this post are disabled, for obvious reasons.)

original post

[doycetopia]

The Real Dark Side of Star Wars: Spoilers

[This is a repost of a post I wrote about two years, which has inexplicably disappeared from the site.]

I need to talk about something pretty shitty, but it requires a little background information, first.

Many of you probably already know this background info, but some of you don’t, so I’m filling it in for them; everyone else, please bear with.

I doubt it will surprise anyone to know I’m a long time Star Wars fan boy.

Am I the biggest Star Wars fan boy who’s ever lived? No, most certainly not.

In fact (and this bit will shock the less-super-nerdy out there), there are groups of folks out in the world who, after examining the extent of my exposure to Star Wars “stuff”, would decide quite seriously that I’m not a real Star Wars fan at all, or at least not a serious one.

The funny thing is, it’s hard to even explain this without getting at least somewhat nerdy, but I’m going to try. (In my head, as I write this, I’m talking to my sister, which is how I approach more posts than anyone would imagine.)

Now, a lot of people – most people – who say they like Star Wars mean they like the movies, because that is literally the only Star Wars thing they know about. I’m going to call these folks “mainstream fans.”

Obviously (because as a species, we really can’t leave this kind of shit alone) there is a lot more Star Wars stuff out there – more stuff than you’d readily believe. Games, of course. Comics – fucking walls of comics – and enough novels to fill a library.

Collectively, all the stuff that isn’t the movies has been (until recently) referred to as the Star Wars “Extended Universe” or “EU”. The quality of the stuff varies, and by “varies” I mean some of it is pretty good, and some of it is pants-on-head fucking idiocy that makes Jar Jar Binks look as cool as Chewbacca, by comparison.

How does stuff like that get the official stamp of approval? Pretty simple: George Lucas really likes making money, and people are willing to pay him a whole shit ton of money to play in his backyard, so he lets them write novels with Force-nullifying space-sloths (yes, seriously) and puts the Official Rubber Stamp on it, because (a) he got money and (b) he knew if he ever came out with a movie that contradicted stuff people had written, his version would invalidate all the drek he’d authorized in the past, so who cares?

In general, I don’t follow the EU stuff, and (with the exception of the first Star Wars roleplaying game that anyone licensed) don’t know much about it.

The quick summary: there is miles and miles of EU stuff, set anywhere from 30 thousand years before to several hundred years after the movies ‘mainstream fans’ know; the whole thing is an virtually unchartable hot mess…

And there are fans out there who know every single inch of it. Or most of it. Certainly more of it than I do. I’ll call them super-fans.

Now: I have no beef with those super-fans. None.

Okay so far? Good.

Now: Enter Disney.

A few years ago, Disney acquired the rights to the Star Wars intellectual property and announced they were going to start doing stuff with it, and that George Lucas wouldn’t have very much if anything to do with it. (Which, after the prequels, was kind of a relief to hear.)

And Disney took a long look at the Extended Universe stuff and, after some thought, said “Yeah that’s… nice and all… but… yeah. None of that shit is official anymore.”

Basically, they boiled down “Official Star Wars” to the movies, the Clone Wars animated series that ran a few years ago, and whatever stuff they make from here on out (like the totally amazing and fun Star Wars Rebels show, a couple new novels, and of course the new movies coming out).

All that EU stuff? It’s not the “Extended Universe” anymore; it’s “Star Wars Legends” which, honestly, I think is a great name – it implies these are stories about the Star Wars universe (which they are, of course) but just that: stories. Unverifiable. Unverified. Unofficial. Enjoy them if you want – please, by all means – but know them for what they are.

Most – and I do mean most – super-fans were fine with this: they get to keep the stuff they’re into, and they get the biggest pop-culture engine in the world cranking out new Star Wars stuff until the heat-death of the universe finally invalidates Disney’s copyrights.

Some of the super-fans are not happy, and have decided to be unapologetically shitty human beings about the whole thing. I will call this small, vocal-like-a-screaming-howler-monkey subset of super-fans the “spoiler fans,” and here’s why:

These people have decided that it’s not enough that they have this stuff they like. Because Disney has said it’s not official stuff anymore, that somehow makes it impossible to love that stuff as much as they once did – their love is somehow capped by its lack of an official stamp, and this cannot be allowed to stand.

What do they want? This is pretty funny, actually: they don’t just want Disney to go back and say “okay, that stuff is still at least as official as it was when George Lucas was taking your money and planning on invalidating anything he felt like, whenever he felt like it” – they (apparently) want Disney to keep making EU stuff, in addition to the stuff Disney is already making.

“Well, that’s nice,” you might say, “maybe they want a pony, too?”

And yeah, it’s kind of funny, until you realize the internet has allowed shitty people to be shitty on a far greater scale.

See, they’re trying to hold Star Wars hostage to get Disney to do what they want.

How? They have vowed that they will spoil each and every spoil-able moment in the new movie as loudly and as broadly as possible (which, today, is pretty loud and pretty broad), if Disney doesn’t cave.

You’ve probably seen those image memes on Facebook or whatever, asking people not to spoil the movie. I have, and thought “yeah, it would suck to be spoiled ahead of time.”

Because that can happen by accident. Well-meaning, happy, enthusiastic fans can get on the internet and broadcast out to their friends, joyfully exclaiming about all the stuff they loved about the movie, and accidentally spoil something for someone who hasn’t seen it yet, because how have you not seen it yet?!?

This isn’t that. This is not an accidental thing. This is not your friend loving the movie so much he spills something.

This is a guy standing outside the movie theater before The Empire Strikes Back, waiting for the line to form, and then telling every single person in line “Darth Vader is Luke’s dad.”

Except the guy has a megaphone the whole world can hear, if they aren’t careful, and he shouts the message at unexpected times.

I’m telling you about this, because it already happened to me, and I don’t want it to happen to you.

I leaned about this little movement of spoiler-fans via a friend’s post on Google+.

The very first comment to that post was one of these guys, and all he posted was a spoiler, and I am pretty sure he spoiled probably the biggest plot twist in the movie for me.

Now, obviously, I haven’t seen the movie yet, so how do I know?

Let me put it this way: if that guy who came up to you in line at Empire Strikes Back had said, perfectly straight-faced “Darth Vader is Luke’s dad,” would you have believed him?

Maybe you think about it a bit, and it syncs up with everything you know about the movies thus far, and it syncs up with what you’ve seen in the trailers, and it just seems like a very Star Wars-y plot twist.

Maybe you don’t believe it, completely and totally, but you believe it enough that you will sit down in the theater and, basically, spend the whole movie waiting for that moment to come. Or not.

Even if it doesn’t, you will not have enjoyed the movie as much as you might have, because you were distracted. And if it does happen just as that guy said? Well.

That’s the kind of thing this guy posted. One line. Ten words, and there goes my 100% unmitigated enjoyment of the new movie.

Now, shut up: this isn’t about me. Yes, you’re very sorry about this happening. Yes. I love you. Thank you, now shut up for a sec.

Listen.

These fuckers are out there. They are doing this on purpose. They’re enjoyment of their pile of stuff has been somehow – idiotically – damaged; Disney made their Masters-level knowledge of a made-up universe less important than it already was, so they have decided to shit on every other person who wants to enjoy the new movie, because (apparently) “Fuck anyone who is enjoying themselves, if I am not.”

I don’t care about me. I’ve watched Empire Strikes Back probably thirty times, if not more, and I know – know I will enjoy it when I watch it again, because I’ll be watching it with my kids, and the shine hasn’t come off for them.

Because of that, I know I will enjoy this new movie when I watch it, because I will be watching it with my kids and even if I don’t feel the same sense of surprise and wonder as I might have, they will, and I will still get to feel that, through them.

And I know they will get to feel that, because I’m going to protect them from these… infantile man-children and their shit-spattering temper-tantrum.

Now: why did I write all this? Because I want to try to protect you, too.

When you see spoiler warnings, heed them. Stop thinking of spoilers as “that one little thing my super-happy friend let out after he saw the movie” and start thinking “halitosis-reeking stranger who wants to dip his filthy index finger in my morning coffee.”

From here until you see the movies, absolutely avoid comment sections on any Star Wars-related post on any kind of social media.

Just… for a few days, expect people you don’t know to be kind of shitty for no good reason.

I realize that’s kind of a downer message, but seriously: I want you to enjoy the movie.

And also, yeah: I want those petty fuckers to lose, because fuck them.

(Comments on this post are disabled, for obvious reasons.)

original post

[doycetopia]

The Real Dark Side of Star Wars: Spoilers

[This is a repost of a post I wrote about two years, which has inexplicably disappeared from the site.]

I need to talk about something pretty shitty, but it requires a little background information, first.

Many of you probably already know this background info, but some of you don’t, so I’m filling it in for them; everyone else, please bear with.

I doubt it will surprise anyone to know I’m a long time Star Wars fan boy.

Am I the biggest Star Wars fan boy who’s ever lived? No, most certainly not.

In fact (and this bit will shock the less-super-nerdy out there), there are groups of folks out in the world who, after examining the extent of my exposure to Star Wars “stuff”, would decide quite seriously that I’m not a real Star Wars fan at all, or at least not a serious one.

The funny thing is, it’s hard to even explain this without getting at least somewhat nerdy, but I’m going to try. (In my head, as I write this, I’m talking to my sister, which is how I approach more posts than anyone would imagine.)

Now, a lot of people – most people – who say they like Star Wars mean they like the movies, because that is literally the only Star Wars thing they know about. I’m going to call these folks “mainstream fans.”

Obviously (because as a species, we really can’t leave this kind of shit alone) there is a lot more Star Wars stuff out there – more stuff than you’d readily believe. Games, of course. Comics – fucking walls of comics – and enough novels to fill a library.

Collectively, all the stuff that isn’t the movies has been (until recently) referred to as the Star Wars “Extended Universe” or “EU”. The quality of the stuff varies, and by “varies” I mean some of it is pretty good, and some of it is pants-on-head fucking idiocy that makes Jar Jar Binks look as cool as Chewbacca, by comparison.

How does stuff like that get the official stamp of approval? Pretty simple: George Lucas really likes making money, and people are willing to pay him a whole shit ton of money to play in his backyard, so he lets them write novels with Force-nullifying space-sloths (yes, seriously) and puts the Official Rubber Stamp on it, because (a) he got money and (b) he knew if he ever came out with a movie that contradicted stuff people had written, his version would invalidate all the drek he’d authorized in the past, so who cares?

In general, I don’t follow the EU stuff, and (with the exception of the first Star Wars roleplaying game that anyone licensed) don’t know much about it.

The quick summary: there is miles and miles of EU stuff, set anywhere from 30 thousand years before to several hundred years after the movies ‘mainstream fans’ know; the whole thing is an virtually unchartable hot mess…

And there are fans out there who know every single inch of it. Or most of it. Certainly more of it than I do. I’ll call them super-fans.

Now: I have no beef with those super-fans. None.

Okay so far? Good.

Now: Enter Disney.

A few years ago, Disney acquired the rights to the Star Wars intellectual property and announced they were going to start doing stuff with it, and that George Lucas wouldn’t have very much if anything to do with it. (Which, after the prequels, was kind of a relief to hear.)

And Disney took a long look at the Extended Universe stuff and, after some thought, said “Yeah that’s… nice and all… but… yeah. None of that shit is official anymore.”

Basically, they boiled down “Official Star Wars” to the movies, the Clone Wars animated series that ran a few years ago, and whatever stuff they make from here on out (like the totally amazing and fun Star Wars Rebels show, a couple new novels, and of course the new movies coming out).

All that EU stuff? It’s not the “Extended Universe” anymore; it’s “Star Wars Legends” which, honestly, I think is a great name – it implies these are stories about the Star Wars universe (which they are, of course) but just that: stories. Unverifiable. Unverified. Unofficial. Enjoy them if you want – please, by all means – but know them for what they are.

Most – and I do mean most – super-fans were fine with this: they get to keep the stuff they’re into, and they get the biggest pop-culture engine in the world cranking out new Star Wars stuff until the heat-death of the universe finally invalidates Disney’s copyrights.

Some of the super-fans are not happy, and have decided to be unapologetically shitty human beings about the whole thing. I will call this small, vocal-like-a-screaming-howler-monkey subset of super-fans the “spoiler fans,” and here’s why:

These people have decided that it’s not enough that they have this stuff they like. Because Disney has said it’s not official stuff anymore, that somehow makes it impossible to love that stuff as much as they once did – their love is somehow capped by its lack of an official stamp, and this cannot be allowed to stand.

What do they want? This is pretty funny, actually: they don’t just want Disney to go back and say “okay, that stuff is still at least as official as it was when George Lucas was taking your money and planning on invalidating anything he felt like, whenever he felt like it” – they (apparently) want Disney to keep making EU stuff, in addition to the stuff Disney is already making.

“Well, that’s nice,” you might say, “maybe they want a pony, too?”

And yeah, it’s kind of funny, until you realize the internet has allowed shitty people to be shitty on a far greater scale.

See, they’re trying to hold Star Wars hostage to get Disney to do what they want.

How? They have vowed that they will spoil each and every spoil-able moment in the new movie as loudly and as broadly as possible (which, today, is pretty loud and pretty broad), if Disney doesn’t cave.

You’ve probably seen those image memes on Facebook or whatever, asking people not to spoil the movie. I have, and thought “yeah, it would suck to be spoiled ahead of time.”

Because that can happen by accident. Well-meaning, happy, enthusiastic fans can get on the internet and broadcast out to their friends, joyfully exclaiming about all the stuff they loved about the movie, and accidentally spoil something for someone who hasn’t seen it yet, because how have you not seen it yet?!?

This isn’t that. This is not an accidental thing. This is not your friend loving the movie so much he spills something.

This is a guy standing outside the movie theater before The Empire Strikes Back, waiting for the line to form, and then telling every single person in line “Darth Vader is Luke’s dad.”

Except the guy has a megaphone the whole world can hear, if they aren’t careful, and he shouts the message at unexpected times.

I’m telling you about this, because it already happened to me, and I don’t want it to happen to you.

I leaned about this little movement of spoiler-fans via a friend’s post on Google+.

The very first comment to that post was one of these guys, and all he posted was a spoiler, and I am pretty sure he spoiled probably the biggest plot twist in the movie for me.

Now, obviously, I haven’t seen the movie yet, so how do I know?

Let me put it this way: if that guy who came up to you in line at Empire Strikes Back had said, perfectly straight-faced “Darth Vader is Luke’s dad,” would you have believed him?

Maybe you think about it a bit, and it syncs up with everything you know about the movies thus far, and it syncs up with what you’ve seen in the trailers, and it just seems like a very Star Wars-y plot twist.

Maybe you don’t believe it, completely and totally, but you believe it enough that you will sit down in the theater and, basically, spend the whole movie waiting for that moment to come. Or not.

Even if it doesn’t, you will not have enjoyed the movie as much as you might have, because you were distracted. And if it does happen just as that guy said? Well.

That’s the kind of thing this guy posted. One line. Ten words, and there goes my 100% unmitigated enjoyment of the new movie.

Now, shut up: this isn’t about me. Yes, you’re very sorry about this happening. Yes. I love you. Thank you, now shut up for a sec.

Listen.

These fuckers are out there. They are doing this on purpose. They’re enjoyment of their pile of stuff has been somehow – idiotically – damaged; Disney made their Masters-level knowledge of a made-up universe less important than it already was, so they have decided to shit on every other person who wants to enjoy the new movie, because (apparently) “Fuck anyone who is enjoying themselves, if I am not.”

I don’t care about me. I’ve watched Empire Strikes Back probably thirty times, if not more, and I know – know I will enjoy it when I watch it again, because I’ll be watching it with my kids, and the shine hasn’t come off for them.

Because of that, I know I will enjoy this new movie when I watch it, because I will be watching it with my kids and even if I don’t feel the same sense of surprise and wonder as I might have, they will, and I will still get to feel that, through them.

And I know they will get to feel that, because I’m going to protect them from these… infantile man-children and their shit-spattering temper-tantrum.

Now: why did I write all this? Because I want to try to protect you, too.

When you see spoiler warnings, heed them. Stop thinking of spoilers as “that one little thing my super-happy friend let out after he saw the movie” and start thinking “halitosis-reeking stranger who wants to dip his filthy index finger in my morning coffee.”

From here until you see the movies, absolutely avoid comment sections on any Star Wars-related post on any kind of social media.

Just… for a few days, expect people you don’t know to be kind of shitty for no good reason.

I realize that’s kind of a downer message, but seriously: I want you to enjoy the movie.

And also, yeah: I want those petty fuckers to lose, because fuck them.

(Comments on this post are disabled, for obvious reasons.)

original post

[doycetopia]

The Real Dark Side of Star Wars: Spoilers

[This is a repost of a post I wrote about two years, which has inexplicably disappeared from the site.]

I need to talk about something pretty shitty, but it requires a little background information, first.

Many of you probably already know this background info, but some of you don’t, so I’m filling it in for them; everyone else, please bear with.

I doubt it will surprise anyone to know I’m a long time Star Wars fan boy.

Am I the biggest Star Wars fan boy who’s ever lived? No, most certainly not.

In fact (and this bit will shock the less-super-nerdy out there), there are groups of folks out in the world who, after examining the extent of my exposure to Star Wars “stuff”, would decide quite seriously that I’m not a real Star Wars fan at all, or at least not a serious one.

The funny thing is, it’s hard to even explain this without getting at least somewhat nerdy, but I’m going to try. (In my head, as I write this, I’m talking to my sister, which is how I approach more posts than anyone would imagine.)

Now, a lot of people – most people – who say they like Star Wars mean they like the movies, because that is literally the only Star Wars thing they know about. I’m going to call these folks “mainstream fans.”

Obviously (because as a species, we really can’t leave this kind of shit alone) there is a lot more Star Wars stuff out there – more stuff than you’d readily believe. Games, of course. Comics – fucking walls of comics – and enough novels to fill a library.

Collectively, all the stuff that isn’t the movies has been (until recently) referred to as the Star Wars “Extended Universe” or “EU”. The quality of the stuff varies, and by “varies” I mean some of it is pretty good, and some of it is pants-on-head fucking idiocy that makes Jar Jar Binks look as cool as Chewbacca, by comparison.

How does stuff like that get the official stamp of approval? Pretty simple: George Lucas really likes making money, and people are willing to pay him a whole shit ton of money to play in his backyard, so he lets them write novels with Force-nullifying space-sloths (yes, seriously) and puts the Official Rubber Stamp on it, because (a) he got money and (b) he knew if he ever came out with a movie that contradicted stuff people had written, his version would invalidate all the drek he’d authorized in the past, so who cares?

In general, I don’t follow the EU stuff, and (with the exception of the first Star Wars roleplaying game that anyone licensed) don’t know much about it.

The quick summary: there is miles and miles of EU stuff, set anywhere from 30 thousand years before to several hundred years after the movies ‘mainstream fans’ know; the whole thing is an virtually unchartable hot mess…

And there are fans out there who know every single inch of it. Or most of it. Certainly more of it than I do. I’ll call them super-fans.

Now: I have no beef with those super-fans. None.

Okay so far? Good.

Now: Enter Disney.

A few years ago, Disney acquired the rights to the Star Wars intellectual property and announced they were going to start doing stuff with it, and that George Lucas wouldn’t have very much if anything to do with it. (Which, after the prequels, was kind of a relief to hear.)

And Disney took a long look at the Extended Universe stuff and, after some thought, said “Yeah that’s… nice and all… but… yeah. None of that shit is official anymore.”

Basically, they boiled down “Official Star Wars” to the movies, the Clone Wars animated series that ran a few years ago, and whatever stuff they make from here on out (like the totally amazing and fun Star Wars Rebels show, a couple new novels, and of course the new movies coming out).

All that EU stuff? It’s not the “Extended Universe” anymore; it’s “Star Wars Legends” which, honestly, I think is a great name – it implies these are stories about the Star Wars universe (which they are, of course) but just that: stories. Unverifiable. Unverified. Unofficial. Enjoy them if you want – please, by all means – but know them for what they are.

Most – and I do mean most – super-fans were fine with this: they get to keep the stuff they’re into, and they get the biggest pop-culture engine in the world cranking out new Star Wars stuff until the heat-death of the universe finally invalidates Disney’s copyrights.

Some of the super-fans are not happy, and have decided to be unapologetically shitty human beings about the whole thing. I will call this small, vocal-like-a-screaming-howler-monkey subset of super-fans the “spoiler fans,” and here’s why:

These people have decided that it’s not enough that they have this stuff they like. Because Disney has said it’s not official stuff anymore, that somehow makes it impossible to love that stuff as much as they once did – their love is somehow capped by its lack of an official stamp, and this cannot be allowed to stand.

What do they want? This is pretty funny, actually: they don’t just want Disney to go back and say “okay, that stuff is still at least as official as it was when George Lucas was taking your money and planning on invalidating anything he felt like, whenever he felt like it” – they (apparently) want Disney to keep making EU stuff, in addition to the stuff Disney is already making.

“Well, that’s nice,” you might say, “maybe they want a pony, too?”

And yeah, it’s kind of funny, until you realize the internet has allowed shitty people to be shitty on a far greater scale.

See, they’re trying to hold Star Wars hostage to get Disney to do what they want.

How? They have vowed that they will spoil each and every spoil-able moment in the new movie as loudly and as broadly as possible (which, today, is pretty loud and pretty broad), if Disney doesn’t cave.

You’ve probably seen those image memes on Facebook or whatever, asking people not to spoil the movie. I have, and thought “yeah, it would suck to be spoiled ahead of time.”

Because that can happen by accident. Well-meaning, happy, enthusiastic fans can get on the internet and broadcast out to their friends, joyfully exclaiming about all the stuff they loved about the movie, and accidentally spoil something for someone who hasn’t seen it yet, because how have you not seen it yet?!?

This isn’t that. This is not an accidental thing. This is not your friend loving the movie so much he spills something.

This is a guy standing outside the movie theater before The Empire Strikes Back, waiting for the line to form, and then telling every single person in line “Darth Vader is Luke’s dad.”

Except the guy has a megaphone the whole world can hear, if they aren’t careful, and he shouts the message at unexpected times.

I’m telling you about this, because it already happened to me, and I don’t want it to happen to you.

I leaned about this little movement of spoiler-fans via a friend’s post on Google+.

The very first comment to that post was one of these guys, and all he posted was a spoiler, and I am pretty sure he spoiled probably the biggest plot twist in the movie for me.

Now, obviously, I haven’t seen the movie yet, so how do I know?

Let me put it this way: if that guy who came up to you in line at Empire Strikes Back had said, perfectly straight-faced “Darth Vader is Luke’s dad,” would you have believed him?

Maybe you think about it a bit, and it syncs up with everything you know about the movies thus far, and it syncs up with what you’ve seen in the trailers, and it just seems like a very Star Wars-y plot twist.

Maybe you don’t believe it, completely and totally, but you believe it enough that you will sit down in the theater and, basically, spend the whole movie waiting for that moment to come. Or not.

Even if it doesn’t, you will not have enjoyed the movie as much as you might have, because you were distracted. And if it does happen just as that guy said? Well.

That’s the kind of thing this guy posted. One line. Ten words, and there goes my 100% unmitigated enjoyment of the new movie.

Now, shut up: this isn’t about me. Yes, you’re very sorry about this happening. Yes. I love you. Thank you, now shut up for a sec.

Listen.

These fuckers are out there. They are doing this on purpose. They’re enjoyment of their pile of stuff has been somehow – idiotically – damaged; Disney made their Masters-level knowledge of a made-up universe less important than it already was, so they have decided to shit on every other person who wants to enjoy the new movie, because (apparently) “Fuck anyone who is enjoying themselves, if I am not.”

I don’t care about me. I’ve watched Empire Strikes Back probably thirty times, if not more, and I know – know I will enjoy it when I watch it again, because I’ll be watching it with my kids, and the shine hasn’t come off for them.

Because of that, I know I will enjoy this new movie when I watch it, because I will be watching it with my kids and even if I don’t feel the same sense of surprise and wonder as I might have, they will, and I will still get to feel that, through them.

And I know they will get to feel that, because I’m going to protect them from these… infantile man-children and their shit-spattering temper-tantrum.

Now: why did I write all this? Because I want to try to protect you, too.

When you see spoiler warnings, heed them. Stop thinking of spoilers as “that one little thing my super-happy friend let out after he saw the movie” and start thinking “halitosis-reeking stranger who wants to dip his filthy index finger in my morning coffee.”

From here until you see the movies, absolutely avoid comment sections on any Star Wars-related post on any kind of social media.

Just… for a few days, expect people you don’t know to be kind of shitty for no good reason.

I realize that’s kind of a downer message, but seriously: I want you to enjoy the movie.

And also, yeah: I want those petty fuckers to lose, because fuck them.

(Comments on this post are disabled, for obvious reasons.)

original post

[doycetopia]

The Real Dark Side of Star Wars: Spoilers

[This is a repost of a post I wrote about two years, which has inexplicably disappeared from the site.]

I need to talk about something pretty shitty, but it requires a little background information, first.

Many of you probably already know this background info, but some of you don’t, so I’m filling it in for them; everyone else, please bear with.

I doubt it will surprise anyone to know I’m a long time Star Wars fan boy.

Am I the biggest Star Wars fan boy who’s ever lived? No, most certainly not.

In fact (and this bit will shock the less-super-nerdy out there), there are groups of folks out in the world who, after examining the extent of my exposure to Star Wars “stuff”, would decide quite seriously that I’m not a real Star Wars fan at all, or at least not a serious one.

The funny thing is, it’s hard to even explain this without getting at least somewhat nerdy, but I’m going to try. (In my head, as I write this, I’m talking to my sister, which is how I approach more posts than anyone would imagine.)

Now, a lot of people – most people – who say they like Star Wars mean they like the movies, because that is literally the only Star Wars thing they know about. I’m going to call these folks “mainstream fans.”

Obviously (because as a species, we really can’t leave this kind of shit alone) there is a lot more Star Wars stuff out there – more stuff than you’d readily believe. Games, of course. Comics – fucking walls of comics – and enough novels to fill a library.

Collectively, all the stuff that isn’t the movies has been (until recently) referred to as the Star Wars “Extended Universe” or “EU”. The quality of the stuff varies, and by “varies” I mean some of it is pretty good, and some of it is pants-on-head fucking idiocy that makes Jar Jar Binks look as cool as Chewbacca, by comparison.

How does stuff like that get the official stamp of approval? Pretty simple: George Lucas really likes making money, and people are willing to pay him a whole shit ton of money to play in his backyard, so he lets them write novels with Force-nullifying space-sloths (yes, seriously) and puts the Official Rubber Stamp on it, because (a) he got money and (b) he knew if he ever came out with a movie that contradicted stuff people had written, his version would invalidate all the drek he’d authorized in the past, so who cares?

In general, I don’t follow the EU stuff, and (with the exception of the first Star Wars roleplaying game that anyone licensed) don’t know much about it.

The quick summary: there is miles and miles of EU stuff, set anywhere from 30 thousand years before to several hundred years after the movies ‘mainstream fans’ know; the whole thing is an virtually unchartable hot mess…

And there are fans out there who know every single inch of it. Or most of it. Certainly more of it than I do. I’ll call them super-fans.

Now: I have no beef with those super-fans. None.

Okay so far? Good.

Now: Enter Disney.

A few years ago, Disney acquired the rights to the Star Wars intellectual property and announced they were going to start doing stuff with it, and that George Lucas wouldn’t have very much if anything to do with it. (Which, after the prequels, was kind of a relief to hear.)

And Disney took a long look at the Extended Universe stuff and, after some thought, said “Yeah that’s… nice and all… but… yeah. None of that shit is official anymore.”

Basically, they boiled down “Official Star Wars” to the movies, the Clone Wars animated series that ran a few years ago, and whatever stuff they make from here on out (like the totally amazing and fun Star Wars Rebels show, a couple new novels, and of course the new movies coming out).

All that EU stuff? It’s not the “Extended Universe” anymore; it’s “Star Wars Legends” which, honestly, I think is a great name – it implies these are stories about the Star Wars universe (which they are, of course) but just that: stories. Unverifiable. Unverified. Unofficial. Enjoy them if you want – please, by all means – but know them for what they are.

Most – and I do mean most – super-fans were fine with this: they get to keep the stuff they’re into, and they get the biggest pop-culture engine in the world cranking out new Star Wars stuff until the heat-death of the universe finally invalidates Disney’s copyrights.

Some of the super-fans are not happy, and have decided to be unapologetically shitty human beings about the whole thing. I will call this small, vocal-like-a-screaming-howler-monkey subset of super-fans the “spoiler fans,” and here’s why:

These people have decided that it’s not enough that they have this stuff they like. Because Disney has said it’s not official stuff anymore, that somehow makes it impossible to love that stuff as much as they once did – their love is somehow capped by its lack of an official stamp, and this cannot be allowed to stand.

What do they want? This is pretty funny, actually: they don’t just want Disney to go back and say “okay, that stuff is still at least as official as it was when George Lucas was taking your money and planning on invalidating anything he felt like, whenever he felt like it” – they (apparently) want Disney to keep making EU stuff, in addition to the stuff Disney is already making.

“Well, that’s nice,” you might say, “maybe they want a pony, too?”

And yeah, it’s kind of funny, until you realize the internet has allowed shitty people to be shitty on a far greater scale.

See, they’re trying to hold Star Wars hostage to get Disney to do what they want.

How? They have vowed that they will spoil each and every spoil-able moment in the new movie as loudly and as broadly as possible (which, today, is pretty loud and pretty broad), if Disney doesn’t cave.

You’ve probably seen those image memes on Facebook or whatever, asking people not to spoil the movie. I have, and thought “yeah, it would suck to be spoiled ahead of time.”

Because that can happen by accident. Well-meaning, happy, enthusiastic fans can get on the internet and broadcast out to their friends, joyfully exclaiming about all the stuff they loved about the movie, and accidentally spoil something for someone who hasn’t seen it yet, because how have you not seen it yet?!?

This isn’t that. This is not an accidental thing. This is not your friend loving the movie so much he spills something.

This is a guy standing outside the movie theater before The Empire Strikes Back, waiting for the line to form, and then telling every single person in line “Darth Vader is Luke’s dad.”

Except the guy has a megaphone the whole world can hear, if they aren’t careful, and he shouts the message at unexpected times.

I’m telling you about this, because it already happened to me, and I don’t want it to happen to you.

I leaned about this little movement of spoiler-fans via a friend’s post on Google+.

The very first comment to that post was one of these guys, and all he posted was a spoiler, and I am pretty sure he spoiled probably the biggest plot twist in the movie for me.

Now, obviously, I haven’t seen the movie yet, so how do I know?

Let me put it this way: if that guy who came up to you in line at Empire Strikes Back had said, perfectly straight-faced “Darth Vader is Luke’s dad,” would you have believed him?

Maybe you think about it a bit, and it syncs up with everything you know about the movies thus far, and it syncs up with what you’ve seen in the trailers, and it just seems like a very Star Wars-y plot twist.

Maybe you don’t believe it, completely and totally, but you believe it enough that you will sit down in the theater and, basically, spend the whole movie waiting for that moment to come. Or not.

Even if it doesn’t, you will not have enjoyed the movie as much as you might have, because you were distracted. And if it does happen just as that guy said? Well.

That’s the kind of thing this guy posted. One line. Ten words, and there goes my 100% unmitigated enjoyment of the new movie.

Now, shut up: this isn’t about me. Yes, you’re very sorry about this happening. Yes. I love you. Thank you, now shut up for a sec.

Listen.

These fuckers are out there. They are doing this on purpose. They’re enjoyment of their pile of stuff has been somehow – idiotically – damaged; Disney made their Masters-level knowledge of a made-up universe less important than it already was, so they have decided to shit on every other person who wants to enjoy the new movie, because (apparently) “Fuck anyone who is enjoying themselves, if I am not.”

I don’t care about me. I’ve watched Empire Strikes Back probably thirty times, if not more, and I know – know I will enjoy it when I watch it again, because I’ll be watching it with my kids, and the shine hasn’t come off for them.

Because of that, I know I will enjoy this new movie when I watch it, because I will be watching it with my kids and even if I don’t feel the same sense of surprise and wonder as I might have, they will, and I will still get to feel that, through them.

And I know they will get to feel that, because I’m going to protect them from these… infantile man-children and their shit-spattering temper-tantrum.

Now: why did I write all this? Because I want to try to protect you, too.

When you see spoiler warnings, heed them. Stop thinking of spoilers as “that one little thing my super-happy friend let out after he saw the movie” and start thinking “halitosis-reeking stranger who wants to dip his filthy index finger in my morning coffee.”

From here until you see the movies, absolutely avoid comment sections on any Star Wars-related post on any kind of social media.

Just… for a few days, expect people you don’t know to be kind of shitty for no good reason.

I realize that’s kind of a downer message, but seriously: I want you to enjoy the movie.

And also, yeah: I want those petty fuckers to lose, because fuck them.

(Comments on this post are disabled, for obvious reasons.)

original post

[doycetopia]

The Real Dark Side of Star Wars: Spoilers

[This is a repost of a post I wrote about two years, which has inexplicably disappeared from the site.]

I need to talk about something pretty shitty, but it requires a little background information, first.

Many of you probably already know this background info, but some of you don’t, so I’m filling it in for them; everyone else, please bear with.

I doubt it will surprise anyone to know I’m a long time Star Wars fan boy.

Am I the biggest Star Wars fan boy who’s ever lived? No, most certainly not.

In fact (and this bit will shock the less-super-nerdy out there), there are groups of folks out in the world who, after examining the extent of my exposure to Star Wars “stuff”, would decide quite seriously that I’m not a real Star Wars fan at all, or at least not a serious one.

The funny thing is, it’s hard to even explain this without getting at least somewhat nerdy, but I’m going to try. (In my head, as I write this, I’m talking to my sister, which is how I approach more posts than anyone would imagine.)

Now, a lot of people – most people – who say they like Star Wars mean they like the movies, because that is literally the only Star Wars thing they know about. I’m going to call these folks “mainstream fans.”

Obviously (because as a species, we really can’t leave this kind of shit alone) there is a lot more Star Wars stuff out there – more stuff than you’d readily believe. Games, of course. Comics – fucking walls of comics – and enough novels to fill a library.

Collectively, all the stuff that isn’t the movies has been (until recently) referred to as the Star Wars “Extended Universe” or “EU”. The quality of the stuff varies, and by “varies” I mean some of it is pretty good, and some of it is pants-on-head fucking idiocy that makes Jar Jar Binks look as cool as Chewbacca, by comparison.

How does stuff like that get the official stamp of approval? Pretty simple: George Lucas really likes making money, and people are willing to pay him a whole shit ton of money to play in his backyard, so he lets them write novels with Force-nullifying space-sloths (yes, seriously) and puts the Official Rubber Stamp on it, because (a) he got money and (b) he knew if he ever came out with a movie that contradicted stuff people had written, his version would invalidate all the drek he’d authorized in the past, so who cares?

In general, I don’t follow the EU stuff, and (with the exception of the first Star Wars roleplaying game that anyone licensed) don’t know much about it.

The quick summary: there is miles and miles of EU stuff, set anywhere from 30 thousand years before to several hundred years after the movies ‘mainstream fans’ know; the whole thing is an virtually unchartable hot mess…

And there are fans out there who know every single inch of it. Or most of it. Certainly more of it than I do. I’ll call them super-fans.

Now: I have no beef with those super-fans. None.

Okay so far? Good.

Now: Enter Disney.

A few years ago, Disney acquired the rights to the Star Wars intellectual property and announced they were going to start doing stuff with it, and that George Lucas wouldn’t have very much if anything to do with it. (Which, after the prequels, was kind of a relief to hear.)

And Disney took a long look at the Extended Universe stuff and, after some thought, said “Yeah that’s… nice and all… but… yeah. None of that shit is official anymore.”

Basically, they boiled down “Official Star Wars” to the movies, the Clone Wars animated series that ran a few years ago, and whatever stuff they make from here on out (like the totally amazing and fun Star Wars Rebels show, a couple new novels, and of course the new movies coming out).

All that EU stuff? It’s not the “Extended Universe” anymore; it’s “Star Wars Legends” which, honestly, I think is a great name – it implies these are stories about the Star Wars universe (which they are, of course) but just that: stories. Unverifiable. Unverified. Unofficial. Enjoy them if you want – please, by all means – but know them for what they are.

Most – and I do mean most – super-fans were fine with this: they get to keep the stuff they’re into, and they get the biggest pop-culture engine in the world cranking out new Star Wars stuff until the heat-death of the universe finally invalidates Disney’s copyrights.

Some of the super-fans are not happy, and have decided to be unapologetically shitty human beings about the whole thing. I will call this small, vocal-like-a-screaming-howler-monkey subset of super-fans the “spoiler fans,” and here’s why:

These people have decided that it’s not enough that they have this stuff they like. Because Disney has said it’s not official stuff anymore, that somehow makes it impossible to love that stuff as much as they once did – their love is somehow capped by its lack of an official stamp, and this cannot be allowed to stand.

What do they want? This is pretty funny, actually: they don’t just want Disney to go back and say “okay, that stuff is still at least as official as it was when George Lucas was taking your money and planning on invalidating anything he felt like, whenever he felt like it” – they (apparently) want Disney to keep making EU stuff, in addition to the stuff Disney is already making.

“Well, that’s nice,” you might say, “maybe they want a pony, too?”

And yeah, it’s kind of funny, until you realize the internet has allowed shitty people to be shitty on a far greater scale.

See, they’re trying to hold Star Wars hostage to get Disney to do what they want.

How? They have vowed that they will spoil each and every spoil-able moment in the new movie as loudly and as broadly as possible (which, today, is pretty loud and pretty broad), if Disney doesn’t cave.

You’ve probably seen those image memes on Facebook or whatever, asking people not to spoil the movie. I have, and thought “yeah, it would suck to be spoiled ahead of time.”

Because that can happen by accident. Well-meaning, happy, enthusiastic fans can get on the internet and broadcast out to their friends, joyfully exclaiming about all the stuff they loved about the movie, and accidentally spoil something for someone who hasn’t seen it yet, because how have you not seen it yet?!?

This isn’t that. This is not an accidental thing. This is not your friend loving the movie so much he spills something.

This is a guy standing outside the movie theater before The Empire Strikes Back, waiting for the line to form, and then telling every single person in line “Darth Vader is Luke’s dad.”

Except the guy has a megaphone the whole world can hear, if they aren’t careful, and he shouts the message at unexpected times.

I’m telling you about this, because it already happened to me, and I don’t want it to happen to you.

I leaned about this little movement of spoiler-fans via a friend’s post on Google+.

The very first comment to that post was one of these guys, and all he posted was a spoiler, and I am pretty sure he spoiled probably the biggest plot twist in the movie for me.

Now, obviously, I haven’t seen the movie yet, so how do I know?

Let me put it this way: if that guy who came up to you in line at Empire Strikes Back had said, perfectly straight-faced “Darth Vader is Luke’s dad,” would you have believed him?

Maybe you think about it a bit, and it syncs up with everything you know about the movies thus far, and it syncs up with what you’ve seen in the trailers, and it just seems like a very Star Wars-y plot twist.

Maybe you don’t believe it, completely and totally, but you believe it enough that you will sit down in the theater and, basically, spend the whole movie waiting for that moment to come. Or not.

Even if it doesn’t, you will not have enjoyed the movie as much as you might have, because you were distracted. And if it does happen just as that guy said? Well.

That’s the kind of thing this guy posted. One line. Ten words, and there goes my 100% unmitigated enjoyment of the new movie.

Now, shut up: this isn’t about me. Yes, you’re very sorry about this happening. Yes. I love you. Thank you, now shut up for a sec.

Listen.

These fuckers are out there. They are doing this on purpose. They’re enjoyment of their pile of stuff has been somehow – idiotically – damaged; Disney made their Masters-level knowledge of a made-up universe less important than it already was, so they have decided to shit on every other person who wants to enjoy the new movie, because (apparently) “Fuck anyone who is enjoying themselves, if I am not.”

I don’t care about me. I’ve watched Empire Strikes Back probably thirty times, if not more, and I know – know I will enjoy it when I watch it again, because I’ll be watching it with my kids, and the shine hasn’t come off for them.

Because of that, I know I will enjoy this new movie when I watch it, because I will be watching it with my kids and even if I don’t feel the same sense of surprise and wonder as I might have, they will, and I will still get to feel that, through them.

And I know they will get to feel that, because I’m going to protect them from these… infantile man-children and their shit-spattering temper-tantrum.

Now: why did I write all this? Because I want to try to protect you, too.

When you see spoiler warnings, heed them. Stop thinking of spoilers as “that one little thing my super-happy friend let out after he saw the movie” and start thinking “halitosis-reeking stranger who wants to dip his filthy index finger in my morning coffee.”

From here until you see the movies, absolutely avoid comment sections on any Star Wars-related post on any kind of social media.

Just… for a few days, expect people you don’t know to be kind of shitty for no good reason.

I realize that’s kind of a downer message, but seriously: I want you to enjoy the movie.

And also, yeah: I want those petty fuckers to lose, because fuck them.

(Comments on this post are disabled, for obvious reasons.)

original post

[doycetopia]

The Real Dark Side of Star Wars: Spoilers

[This is a repost of a post I wrote about two years, which has inexplicably disappeared from the site.]

I need to talk about something pretty shitty, but it requires a little background information, first.

Many of you probably already know this background info, but some of you don’t, so I’m filling it in for them; everyone else, please bear with.

I doubt it will surprise anyone to know I’m a long time Star Wars fan boy.

Am I the biggest Star Wars fan boy who’s ever lived? No, most certainly not.

In fact (and this bit will shock the less-super-nerdy out there), there are groups of folks out in the world who, after examining the extent of my exposure to Star Wars “stuff”, would decide quite seriously that I’m not a real Star Wars fan at all, or at least not a serious one.

The funny thing is, it’s hard to even explain this without getting at least somewhat nerdy, but I’m going to try. (In my head, as I write this, I’m talking to my sister, which is how I approach more posts than anyone would imagine.)

Now, a lot of people – most people – who say they like Star Wars mean they like the movies, because that is literally the only Star Wars thing they know about. I’m going to call these folks “mainstream fans.”

Obviously (because as a species, we really can’t leave this kind of shit alone) there is a lot more Star Wars stuff out there – more stuff than you’d readily believe. Games, of course. Comics – fucking walls of comics – and enough novels to fill a library.

Collectively, all the stuff that isn’t the movies has been (until recently) referred to as the Star Wars “Extended Universe” or “EU”. The quality of the stuff varies, and by “varies” I mean some of it is pretty good, and some of it is pants-on-head fucking idiocy that makes Jar Jar Binks look as cool as Chewbacca, by comparison.

How does stuff like that get the official stamp of approval? Pretty simple: George Lucas really likes making money, and people are willing to pay him a whole shit ton of money to play in his backyard, so he lets them write novels with Force-nullifying space-sloths (yes, seriously) and puts the Official Rubber Stamp on it, because (a) he got money and (b) he knew if he ever came out with a movie that contradicted stuff people had written, his version would invalidate all the drek he’d authorized in the past, so who cares?

In general, I don’t follow the EU stuff, and (with the exception of the first Star Wars roleplaying game that anyone licensed) don’t know much about it.

The quick summary: there is miles and miles of EU stuff, set anywhere from 30 thousand years before to several hundred years after the movies ‘mainstream fans’ know; the whole thing is an virtually unchartable hot mess…

And there are fans out there who know every single inch of it. Or most of it. Certainly more of it than I do. I’ll call them super-fans.

Now: I have no beef with those super-fans. None.

Okay so far? Good.

Now: Enter Disney.

A few years ago, Disney acquired the rights to the Star Wars intellectual property and announced they were going to start doing stuff with it, and that George Lucas wouldn’t have very much if anything to do with it. (Which, after the prequels, was kind of a relief to hear.)

And Disney took a long look at the Extended Universe stuff and, after some thought, said “Yeah that’s… nice and all… but… yeah. None of that shit is official anymore.”

Basically, they boiled down “Official Star Wars” to the movies, the Clone Wars animated series that ran a few years ago, and whatever stuff they make from here on out (like the totally amazing and fun Star Wars Rebels show, a couple new novels, and of course the new movies coming out).

All that EU stuff? It’s not the “Extended Universe” anymore; it’s “Star Wars Legends” which, honestly, I think is a great name – it implies these are stories about the Star Wars universe (which they are, of course) but just that: stories. Unverifiable. Unverified. Unofficial. Enjoy them if you want – please, by all means – but know them for what they are.

Most – and I do mean most – super-fans were fine with this: they get to keep the stuff they’re into, and they get the biggest pop-culture engine in the world cranking out new Star Wars stuff until the heat-death of the universe finally invalidates Disney’s copyrights.

Some of the super-fans are not happy, and have decided to be unapologetically shitty human beings about the whole thing. I will call this small, vocal-like-a-screaming-howler-monkey subset of super-fans the “spoiler fans,” and here’s why:

These people have decided that it’s not enough that they have this stuff they like. Because Disney has said it’s not official stuff anymore, that somehow makes it impossible to love that stuff as much as they once did – their love is somehow capped by its lack of an official stamp, and this cannot be allowed to stand.

What do they want? This is pretty funny, actually: they don’t just want Disney to go back and say “okay, that stuff is still at least as official as it was when George Lucas was taking your money and planning on invalidating anything he felt like, whenever he felt like it” – they (apparently) want Disney to keep making EU stuff, in addition to the stuff Disney is already making.

“Well, that’s nice,” you might say, “maybe they want a pony, too?”

And yeah, it’s kind of funny, until you realize the internet has allowed shitty people to be shitty on a far greater scale.

See, they’re trying to hold Star Wars hostage to get Disney to do what they want.

How? They have vowed that they will spoil each and every spoil-able moment in the new movie as loudly and as broadly as possible (which, today, is pretty loud and pretty broad), if Disney doesn’t cave.

You’ve probably seen those image memes on Facebook or whatever, asking people not to spoil the movie. I have, and thought “yeah, it would suck to be spoiled ahead of time.”

Because that can happen by accident. Well-meaning, happy, enthusiastic fans can get on the internet and broadcast out to their friends, joyfully exclaiming about all the stuff they loved about the movie, and accidentally spoil something for someone who hasn’t seen it yet, because how have you not seen it yet?!?

This isn’t that. This is not an accidental thing. This is not your friend loving the movie so much he spills something.

This is a guy standing outside the movie theater before The Empire Strikes Back, waiting for the line to form, and then telling every single person in line “Darth Vader is Luke’s dad.”

Except the guy has a megaphone the whole world can hear, if they aren’t careful, and he shouts the message at unexpected times.

I’m telling you about this, because it already happened to me, and I don’t want it to happen to you.

I leaned about this little movement of spoiler-fans via a friend’s post on Google+.

The very first comment to that post was one of these guys, and all he posted was a spoiler, and I am pretty sure he spoiled probably the biggest plot twist in the movie for me.

Now, obviously, I haven’t seen the movie yet, so how do I know?

Let me put it this way: if that guy who came up to you in line at Empire Strikes Back had said, perfectly straight-faced “Darth Vader is Luke’s dad,” would you have believed him?

Maybe you think about it a bit, and it syncs up with everything you know about the movies thus far, and it syncs up with what you’ve seen in the trailers, and it just seems like a very Star Wars-y plot twist.

Maybe you don’t believe it, completely and totally, but you believe it enough that you will sit down in the theater and, basically, spend the whole movie waiting for that moment to come. Or not.

Even if it doesn’t, you will not have enjoyed the movie as much as you might have, because you were distracted. And if it does happen just as that guy said? Well.

That’s the kind of thing this guy posted. One line. Ten words, and there goes my 100% unmitigated enjoyment of the new movie.

Now, shut up: this isn’t about me. Yes, you’re very sorry about this happening. Yes. I love you. Thank you, now shut up for a sec.

Listen.

These fuckers are out there. They are doing this on purpose. They’re enjoyment of their pile of stuff has been somehow – idiotically – damaged; Disney made their Masters-level knowledge of a made-up universe less important than it already was, so they have decided to shit on every other person who wants to enjoy the new movie, because (apparently) “Fuck anyone who is enjoying themselves, if I am not.”

I don’t care about me. I’ve watched Empire Strikes Back probably thirty times, if not more, and I know – know I will enjoy it when I watch it again, because I’ll be watching it with my kids, and the shine hasn’t come off for them.

Because of that, I know I will enjoy this new movie when I watch it, because I will be watching it with my kids and even if I don’t feel the same sense of surprise and wonder as I might have, they will, and I will still get to feel that, through them.

And I know they will get to feel that, because I’m going to protect them from these… infantile man-children and their shit-spattering temper-tantrum.

Now: why did I write all this? Because I want to try to protect you, too.

When you see spoiler warnings, heed them. Stop thinking of spoilers as “that one little thing my super-happy friend let out after he saw the movie” and start thinking “halitosis-reeking stranger who wants to dip his filthy index finger in my morning coffee.”

From here until you see the movies, absolutely avoid comment sections on any Star Wars-related post on any kind of social media.

Just… for a few days, expect people you don’t know to be kind of shitty for no good reason.

I realize that’s kind of a downer message, but seriously: I want you to enjoy the movie.

And also, yeah: I want those petty fuckers to lose, because fuck them.

(Comments on this post are disabled, for obvious reasons.)

original post

[doycetopia]

The Real Dark Side of Star Wars: Spoilers

[This is a repost of a post I wrote about two years, which has inexplicably disappeared from the site.]

I need to talk about something pretty shitty, but it requires a little background information, first.

Many of you probably already know this background info, but some of you don’t, so I’m filling it in for them; everyone else, please bear with.

I doubt it will surprise anyone to know I’m a long time Star Wars fan boy.

Am I the biggest Star Wars fan boy who’s ever lived? No, most certainly not.

In fact (and this bit will shock the less-super-nerdy out there), there are groups of folks out in the world who, after examining the extent of my exposure to Star Wars “stuff”, would decide quite seriously that I’m not a real Star Wars fan at all, or at least not a serious one.

The funny thing is, it’s hard to even explain this without getting at least somewhat nerdy, but I’m going to try. (In my head, as I write this, I’m talking to my sister, which is how I approach more posts than anyone would imagine.)

Now, a lot of people – most people – who say they like Star Wars mean they like the movies, because that is literally the only Star Wars thing they know about. I’m going to call these folks “mainstream fans.”

Obviously (because as a species, we really can’t leave this kind of shit alone) there is a lot more Star Wars stuff out there – more stuff than you’d readily believe. Games, of course. Comics – fucking walls of comics – and enough novels to fill a library.

Collectively, all the stuff that isn’t the movies has been (until recently) referred to as the Star Wars “Extended Universe” or “EU”. The quality of the stuff varies, and by “varies” I mean some of it is pretty good, and some of it is pants-on-head fucking idiocy that makes Jar Jar Binks look as cool as Chewbacca, by comparison.

How does stuff like that get the official stamp of approval? Pretty simple: George Lucas really likes making money, and people are willing to pay him a whole shit ton of money to play in his backyard, so he lets them write novels with Force-nullifying space-sloths (yes, seriously) and puts the Official Rubber Stamp on it, because (a) he got money and (b) he knew if he ever came out with a movie that contradicted stuff people had written, his version would invalidate all the drek he’d authorized in the past, so who cares?

In general, I don’t follow the EU stuff, and (with the exception of the first Star Wars roleplaying game that anyone licensed) don’t know much about it.

The quick summary: there is miles and miles of EU stuff, set anywhere from 30 thousand years before to several hundred years after the movies ‘mainstream fans’ know; the whole thing is an virtually unchartable hot mess…

And there are fans out there who know every single inch of it. Or most of it. Certainly more of it than I do. I’ll call them super-fans.

Now: I have no beef with those super-fans. None.

Okay so far? Good.

Now: Enter Disney.

A few years ago, Disney acquired the rights to the Star Wars intellectual property and announced they were going to start doing stuff with it, and that George Lucas wouldn’t have very much if anything to do with it. (Which, after the prequels, was kind of a relief to hear.)

And Disney took a long look at the Extended Universe stuff and, after some thought, said “Yeah that’s… nice and all… but… yeah. None of that shit is official anymore.”

Basically, they boiled down “Official Star Wars” to the movies, the Clone Wars animated series that ran a few years ago, and whatever stuff they make from here on out (like the totally amazing and fun Star Wars Rebels show, a couple new novels, and of course the new movies coming out).

All that EU stuff? It’s not the “Extended Universe” anymore; it’s “Star Wars Legends” which, honestly, I think is a great name – it implies these are stories about the Star Wars universe (which they are, of course) but just that: stories. Unverifiable. Unverified. Unofficial. Enjoy them if you want – please, by all means – but know them for what they are.

Most – and I do mean most – super-fans were fine with this: they get to keep the stuff they’re into, and they get the biggest pop-culture engine in the world cranking out new Star Wars stuff until the heat-death of the universe finally invalidates Disney’s copyrights.

Some of the super-fans are not happy, and have decided to be unapologetically shitty human beings about the whole thing. I will call this small, vocal-like-a-screaming-howler-monkey subset of super-fans the “spoiler fans,” and here’s why:

These people have decided that it’s not enough that they have this stuff they like. Because Disney has said it’s not official stuff anymore, that somehow makes it impossible to love that stuff as much as they once did – their love is somehow capped by its lack of an official stamp, and this cannot be allowed to stand.

What do they want? This is pretty funny, actually: they don’t just want Disney to go back and say “okay, that stuff is still at least as official as it was when George Lucas was taking your money and planning on invalidating anything he felt like, whenever he felt like it” – they (apparently) want Disney to keep making EU stuff, in addition to the stuff Disney is already making.

“Well, that’s nice,” you might say, “maybe they want a pony, too?”

And yeah, it’s kind of funny, until you realize the internet has allowed shitty people to be shitty on a far greater scale.

See, they’re trying to hold Star Wars hostage to get Disney to do what they want.

How? They have vowed that they will spoil each and every spoil-able moment in the new movie as loudly and as broadly as possible (which, today, is pretty loud and pretty broad), if Disney doesn’t cave.

You’ve probably seen those image memes on Facebook or whatever, asking people not to spoil the movie. I have, and thought “yeah, it would suck to be spoiled ahead of time.”

Because that can happen by accident. Well-meaning, happy, enthusiastic fans can get on the internet and broadcast out to their friends, joyfully exclaiming about all the stuff they loved about the movie, and accidentally spoil something for someone who hasn’t seen it yet, because how have you not seen it yet?!?

This isn’t that. This is not an accidental thing. This is not your friend loving the movie so much he spills something.

This is a guy standing outside the movie theater before The Empire Strikes Back, waiting for the line to form, and then telling every single person in line “Darth Vader is Luke’s dad.”

Except the guy has a megaphone the whole world can hear, if they aren’t careful, and he shouts the message at unexpected times.

I’m telling you about this, because it already happened to me, and I don’t want it to happen to you.

I leaned about this little movement of spoiler-fans via a friend’s post on Google+.

The very first comment to that post was one of these guys, and all he posted was a spoiler, and I am pretty sure he spoiled probably the biggest plot twist in the movie for me.

Now, obviously, I haven’t seen the movie yet, so how do I know?

Let me put it this way: if that guy who came up to you in line at Empire Strikes Back had said, perfectly straight-faced “Darth Vader is Luke’s dad,” would you have believed him?

Maybe you think about it a bit, and it syncs up with everything you know about the movies thus far, and it syncs up with what you’ve seen in the trailers, and it just seems like a very Star Wars-y plot twist.

Maybe you don’t believe it, completely and totally, but you believe it enough that you will sit down in the theater and, basically, spend the whole movie waiting for that moment to come. Or not.

Even if it doesn’t, you will not have enjoyed the movie as much as you might have, because you were distracted. And if it does happen just as that guy said? Well.

That’s the kind of thing this guy posted. One line. Ten words, and there goes my 100% unmitigated enjoyment of the new movie.

Now, shut up: this isn’t about me. Yes, you’re very sorry about this happening. Yes. I love you. Thank you, now shut up for a sec.

Listen.

These fuckers are out there. They are doing this on purpose. They’re enjoyment of their pile of stuff has been somehow – idiotically – damaged; Disney made their Masters-level knowledge of a made-up universe less important than it already was, so they have decided to shit on every other person who wants to enjoy the new movie, because (apparently) “Fuck anyone who is enjoying themselves, if I am not.”

I don’t care about me. I’ve watched Empire Strikes Back probably thirty times, if not more, and I know – know I will enjoy it when I watch it again, because I’ll be watching it with my kids, and the shine hasn’t come off for them.

Because of that, I know I will enjoy this new movie when I watch it, because I will be watching it with my kids and even if I don’t feel the same sense of surprise and wonder as I might have, they will, and I will still get to feel that, through them.

And I know they will get to feel that, because I’m going to protect them from these… infantile man-children and their shit-spattering temper-tantrum.

Now: why did I write all this? Because I want to try to protect you, too.

When you see spoiler warnings, heed them. Stop thinking of spoilers as “that one little thing my super-happy friend let out after he saw the movie” and start thinking “halitosis-reeking stranger who wants to dip his filthy index finger in my morning coffee.”

From here until you see the movies, absolutely avoid comment sections on any Star Wars-related post on any kind of social media.

Just… for a few days, expect people you don’t know to be kind of shitty for no good reason.

I realize that’s kind of a downer message, but seriously: I want you to enjoy the movie.

And also, yeah: I want those petty fuckers to lose, because fuck them.

(Comments on this post are disabled, for obvious reasons.)

original post