#die and not be discovered for 22 days

[knife-enby]

[devieuls]

ˋ Haunted .✵

Qimir x Ex Jedi Fem Reader < SERIES >

Warning of the Serie: MDNI. Sith Lord Qimir x Fem ex Jedi Reader.

(during the series)

SMUT: Dirty Talk; Fangs; Bites; fingering; Blood; Spit; Jealousy and Possessiveness; Foreplay; violence; Swearing; Teasing; Unprotected Sex; betrayal; slut shaming; oral sex; dacryphilia; outdoorsex; jealousy BDSM. Dom Qimir ANGST: toxic relationship, self-harm, derealization, suffering, Requited / Unrequited love, prejudices, bullying and insults. There will be flashbacks in this series

Aged characters: Qimir 35 y.o / You 22 y.o.

Synopsis: In a twisted web of light and darkness, two opposites are facing each other, dancing on a thin thread called fate. What happens when light and darkness dance on a wire called destiny, two eternal opposites that inevitably attract each other and create something perfectly powerful and chaotic to unite the power of two in one? The answer emerges in a journey of tension and attraction, where yin and yang discover that their opposition is nothing but a reflection of a deep and unexpected connection. This is the story of how destruction is akin to peace, how the moon one day decided to save the sun, how darkness is not so dark and evil so bad. A journey towards change and desire, where opposing forces merge into a future that no one could have predicted.

(Following some events of the series)

Lenght: 4.9k

TW: THE SERIES WILL BE FULL OF DELICATE TOPICS!

⇠ Previous chapter ✵ Next Chapter ⇢

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Chapter I: The Abyss of Temptation

(The shuttle landed silently on the verdant surface of the planet Khofar, a wild jewel among the worlds of the Outer Rim Territories. As the hatch opened, a wave of humidity enveloped the Jedi, carrying with it the intense scent of damp earth and the exotic fragrance of the lush vegetation. The forest stretched out before them like an endless sea of green, where the trees rose like ancient towers, their massive trunks covered in layers of gleaming moss. The thick, intertwined canopies above them created a natural roof, allowing only faint rays of light to filter through, speckling the ground with golden patches. Khofar was a living, wild planet, and they were only temporary visitors, intruders in an ancient and balanced ecosystem. Every rustle among the leaves, every distant call, was a warning. A premonition or prelude to what the day would bring.)

If only you had known in advance that your teammates would die one by one before your eyes as you returned from the hut where Jedi Master Kelnacca lived, you would have thought twice before agreeing to the mission. You had fought against the Sith who killed your friends, battling with anger and bitterness, in a grief too fresh to fully comprehend. In the end, the pain of your body hitting the hard ground was nothing compared to the searing agony in your side from a nearly fatal wound. Your vision began to blur, and you could only see footsteps approaching before everything faded to black.

You awoke slowly, as if emerging from a hibernation that had lasted for years. Your eyes opened with difficulty, greeted by a nearly suffocating gloom. The dim light of a few torches was the only source of illumination within what seemed to be a cave. The rocky walls, uneven and cold, seemed to loom over you. You felt weak, every movement was a struggle, and a dull pain throbbed in your side. You tried to sit up, but your injured side forced you back down, a hiss of pain escaping your lips. You brought a trembling hand to the wound and felt the rough texture of the bandages wrapped around the torn flesh. Despite the agony, the wound had apparently been cleaned and treated with care. Someone had taken the time to tend to it, to ensure it would heal, though it was still far from being fully recovered. You looked around, trying to piece together fragments of memory that crowded your mind. You remembered your friends' deaths, Sol screaming, your lightsaber changing color, and a battle. You recalled the fierce confrontation with the Sith, your fall, and the darkness that enveloped you. But beyond that, nothing. You had no idea how you had ended up in that cave, nor who had brought you there.

Your heart raced, panic beginning to seep into your thoughts. Were you a prisoner? And if so, who had shown such mercy to tend to your wounds? The most unsettling question was the most obvious: why hadn't the Sith eliminated you when he had the chance? A shadowy thought slithered into your mind, and the face of the Sith echoed in the depths of your being. The idea that he might have been the one to save you, to care for you, was as chilling as it was improbable. Yet, you couldn’t shake the possibility from your mind, no matter how absurd it seemed.

You dragged yourself out with great effort, and through the blinding light, you saw the silhouette of a man, barely identifiable. You followed him stealthily, still holding your side and trying to endure the pain from the wound. For a moment, you lost sight of him, only to find him again shortly after, immersed in a pool of water in what seemed to be a coastal area with black sand you couldn’t identify. Your eyes fell on the figure facing away from you, submerged in the water, his muscles relaxed, his raven hair wet and slicked back. To your eyes, the man seemed completely unaware of your presence, though he appeared to have a vigilant awareness of the surrounding area. You moved silently among the rocks and vegetation, observing your target until your gaze fell upon a pile of clothes near the shore, where the deactivated lightsaber lay. With swift and somewhat precise movements, you approached the lightsaber. Tension mounted inside you as you crouched to pick it up, aware that any sound could betray your presence. You grasped the metallic object and assumed an attack position as the man began to speak, still with his back turned while he calmly washed himself.

"how does it feel?" he said, turning towards you. You recognized him immediately. The mere sight of his face sparked rage within you. "Pleasant, don't you think?" His tone was a piercing screech to your ears. You gritted your teeth, not responding, remaining in your attack stance. "Your stance is good despite the wound on your side, but your elbows are a real mess. I had my doubts when we fought last time, and now I see why it was so easy to defeat you. Your elbows are too low; you should keep one higher, you know?" he continued, observing you. "…To block more quickly and strike with more precision." He took a brief pause. "Since you don’t know how to use the Force, you should learn to block better," he concluded, stepping out of the water, now only a few steps away from you.

"Don’t move," your stance changed, now aiming the off lightsaber directly at him. Your gaze was sharp and cold. "If you don’t want to join me, at least let me put my clothes on" he said. You took a slight step back, allowing him to exit the water. You swallowed, trying not to let your gaze fall on the naked, wet defined body of the man, keeping in your mind that he was your enemy. You began to ponder whether it was appropriate to attack him now. But it was neither Jedi-like to strike a defenseless man nor to act in such a dishonorable manner. "Surely, you’re wondering if it’s honorable to kill me like this," he began, his tone different from the one used in battle. You swallowed. Your gaze fell for a second on his chest, and you cursed yourself for the terrible idea. "In battle it’s justified, but days later isn’t it revenge?" he asked with a sarcastic tone, as if he already knew the answer. "And now you wonder if I can read your mind… and the answer is… no. Anger betrays your thoughts" he continued, dressing himself as if you weren’t pointing a weapon at him. His gaze seemed oddly gentle, more delicate, almost innocent. So much so that he almost didn’t seem like the same man who had killed seven Jedi just a few nights before.

"Why did you bring me here? Why didn’t you kill me?" you asked, watching him sternly, uncertain of what to do next. "Am I your prisoner?" "Prisoner? You’re the one with a weapon" he said with an overly calm look and an obvious tone in his voice, as he walked back towards the cave, passing by you without fear. You followed him, teeth clenched. You wanted revenge on this man, but what a miserable person you would be to strike him from behind while he was unarmed. "If you keep me here, Sol will come for you. He’s found me before, and he’s powerful with the Force." Your voice sounded threatening, though not as forceful as you’d hoped due to the stabbing pain in your side. The man turned and looked at you with a puzzled expression. "Do you think he’s powerful with the Force? It’s you who’s powerful with the Force, y/n. Someone should teach you," he said. You were stunned for a few seconds, as he knew your name. To you, he was a stranger, but you didn’t seem to be as unknown to him. The stranger walked back into the cave, and you followed him, confused. "In what way am I powerful with the Force? You should know it’s something to be practiced. If you don’t train it, it fades" you said, your voice still sharp as you scrutinized the man who seemed so at ease in your presence. You had long abandoned being a Jedi, retreating shortly after becoming officially part of the Order. If it hadn’t been for your sister leaving a trail of blood wherever she went, you would have stayed far away from that world. You had lost every Force ability, not having practiced it for many years. You vaguely remembered how to use a lightsaber, thanks to Sol, who had helped you recall the skills during the time you spent together, training with his young Padawan Jecki.

The stranger was seated next to what appeared to be a small campfire, while you kept your distance. He tasted the food he was cooking. You didn’t trust him; something about him made you suspicious, aside from the fact that he had decimated your team. "You know… The Jedi teach that there’s only one way to access the Force, and if you don’t do it their way, it fades. But there’s another way," he said gently, turning his gaze toward you. "Beneath the surface of consciousness, there are powerful emotions." "Anger. Fear. Loss…" he slowly mentioned the emotions you had learned to suppress, as you had been taught in the Order during your time as a Jedi Padawan. "…desire." The last emotion was spoken almost in a whisper as he took on a more serious and penetrating expression. You swallowed, observing him with disdain, though you subconsciously held your breath as he listed the emotions. "That’s the path to the dark side," the words came out acridly from your mouth.

The man’s expression darkened for a moment, but he quickly masked it with a mocking smile. "semantics… You Jedi are so closed-minded," he replied, turning back to the fire, stirring the stew he was cooking. "The light side isn’t the only way to access the Force. The dark side… amplifies emotions. It’s just another way to access the Force. A way… to freedom." His convincing tone almost seemed reasonable, though it was contrary to your way of thinking. "You killed my friends," your gaze grew even sharper and more bitter, as your hand still gripped the hilt of the deactivated lightsaber, seeking comfort in the familiar cold metal. The Sith’s words were like poison seeping into your mind, exploiting the insecurities you had always tried to suppress. "Friends? That’s what you call people who come to seek you only in moments of need and then ignore your existence?" His voice was laced with a mix of disdain and feigned compassion. Every word from this man was a blade sinking into your soul, touching raw nerves you had tried to ignore. You had been trained to combat fear, anger, desire—all emotions that, if left unchecked, could lead you down the dark path. But at that moment, you felt the internal storm growing, fueled by suffering and loss, a mourning.

"War isn’t pretty, y/n, sometimes…" he began, his voice dropping to a near-whisper as he stood up, beginning to walk toward you with determined steps, never breaking eye contact. "Sacrifices must be made for a greater good." He stopped just inches from you, his penetrating gaze studying you with a mix of cynicism and desire, as if challenging you to contradict him. Every fiber of his being radiated an irresistible force, a magnetism that seemed to envelop him like a shadow. He leaned slightly toward you, his warm breath brushing against your skin as his lips dangerously neared your ear. "Your friends," he whispered with a cold, almost contemptuous tone, "were just collateral damage." His words were like sharp knives—cutting and relentless—but the seductive tone with which he spoke betrayed an unsettling intimacy, as if he were confiding a dark secret that only you could understand.

The stranger leaned back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze. His dark eyes, deep as an abyss, stared at you with an intensity that seemed to penetrate directly into your soul. His face was close, too close, and his expression was serious, almost sorrowful, but there was no trace of remorse—only a dark understanding. "Why do you love people who can only go so far?" His voice dropped further, becoming a near-confidential whisper. "Who can’t go as deep as you can?" His gaze was intense, his eyes locked onto yours with an expression that seemed to reveal far more than his words had. There was a hidden desire, a need struggling to surface, but the man skillfully masked it, maintaining a subtle balance between cynicism and seduction.

You held your breath, feeling the weight of his words and his proximity. You knew that behind those words lay a darkness trying to corrupt you, but his allure was dangerously real. Your mind was conflicted, torn between repulsion at the Sith’s cynicism and the irresistible magnetism surrounding him. The man gave you a slight smile, a smile that never quite reached his eyes, as he pulled back just a few centimeters, leaving you teetering between temptation and inner struggle. "Maybe, y/n," he added in a mellifluous voice, "you’re destined for something more… something greater… something that I can show you." "I’m not my sister. I’m not so easily corrupted," you said, looking him straight in the eyes, trying to maintain control over yourself. Every fiber of your being struggled to suppress the tumultuous emotions the stranger had tried to awaken in you. Your heart pounded loudly, betraying you, but your face remained impassive, covered by a studied veil of disgust. With a slow, deliberate motion, you took a step back, putting distance between you, your gaze charged with superiority and defiance.

Qimir observed you with an impassive expression, but behind his dark eyes was growing interest, a sort of admiration for your resilience. To him, you were not like the other Jedi he had encountered, too weak or easily swayed. In you, he saw a potential acolyte, someone with an inner strength that could be nurtured and guided toward an even greater power. A subtle smile appeared on his lips, a nearly imperceptible curve that betrayed his pleasure at seeing you so determined. "You’re not like your sister, that’s true," he admitted with a tone that seemed both a compliment and a challenge. He took a step toward you, closing the space between you once more, but this time with an even more calculated calm, like a hunter who knows its prey. "But don’t mistake your determination for invulnerability," he continued, his voice soft and sharp as a blade. "The force you suppress within you, the force you’ve learned to stifle, is what could make you great—much greater than the Jedi could ever imagine. I see in you a potential that goes beyond the limitations of their dogma, and that is what frightens them." He stopped just a few steps from you, his gaze locked on yours, trying to pierce through the mask you had erected. "I’m not here to corrupt you," he whispered, his voice almost persuasive. "I’m here to offer you a choice, a path that the Jedi have always denied you. A road to a freedom you don’t yet know." You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you refused to show any weakness to him.

"I don’t need your freedom," you replied coldly, your voice steady despite the internal turmoil. "Your whispers don’t touch me. I know who I am and what I represent." "So sure of yourself" he murmured, with a tone that seemed to appreciate your determination. "But what do you truly represent, y/n? A Jedi struggling against her own nature, stifling the potential that could make her truly powerful? Oh… perhaps I should say, ex-Jedi?" he asked with ironic amusement, towering over your figure. You clenched your teeth, pointing the hilt of the deactivated lightsaber at his stomach.

He tilted his head slightly, amused, his gaze growing more penetrating as he sought to reach that part of you he knew existed—the part that thirsted for knowledge, power, something more. “You feel the Force, you perceive it in ways that even the Jedi cannot understand. And you know there is a greater, deeper power calling you. It is not betrayal to explore that possibility. It is… evolution.” His words, spoken with such conviction, seemed to echo in the cave, breaking through the barriers you had erected to protect yourself. You raised your lightsaber to meet the man's neck. “Do it… light it” he ordered, his tone of challenge making your blood boil. The Sith, on the other hand, seemed delighted by your anger, his sharp and contemptuous smile only fueling the tension. Qimir merely tilted his head slightly to the side, offering his neck completely to you, his penetrating gaze fixed on the lightsaber you pointed at him, waiting for the moment you would decide to ignite it.

“A Jedi… does not attack the unarmed" you said through gritted teeth, your voice a murmur of frustration and determination. Your mind was a tumult of emotions, but your will to remain true to your principles was steadfast. “Do you still think you’re a Jedi?” he asked, his voice low and enveloping, almost hypnotic. “Don’t you remember how your lightsaber changed color the last time? Do you still believe you must adhere to a code you’re questioning within yourself?” Those words hit like a punch to the stomach, evoking images you would have preferred to forget. The blade of your lightsaber, once glowing a pure blue, had trembled, taking on red hues like those of the man before you. You took a step back, your heart racing, desperately trying to put space between you and that voice which seemed to read into you with ruthless precision. But the man gave you no respite. His hand moved with surprising speed, gripping your arm in a gentle yet firm hold. His fingers closed around your wrist, not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you from withdrawing the saber from his neck. The contrast between the contained strength of his touch and the relaxed calm of his face left you breathless.

His penetrating gaze was fixed on your eyes, a subtle yet relentless challenge. “You know yourself that after what’s happened you couldn’t return to the Jedi even if you wanted to,” he whispered, his tone charming and confident, as if he had already won this silent battle. “Sol has seen it, don’t believe that after succumbing to rage and revenge you can return to a position that no longer belongs to you.” You felt trapped, not so much by his hand holding you but by the words resonating inside you. His words seemed to challenge every certainty you had until that moment. Every fiber of your being wanted to reject him, but there was something in his tone, in the way he looked at you, that made you doubt, even if just for a moment. Qimir moved closer, his warm breath against your skin, each movement calculated with lethal precision. “It’s not a matter of principles, y/n,” he continued, his tone now almost seductive. “That pain, that anger… this is what you are.” Your breath grew irregular, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to maintain control. “Let me go.” you threatened, your voice a low growl, but you knew there was a shadow of hesitation you couldn’t hide.

“Sol saw it… the Jedi saw it” he continued, his tone now softer but laden with cruel truth. “And for that, they will throw you away, again.” His piercing gaze cut into you, as your eyes took on an expression of anger and fear at his words. You felt his words like a sharp blade piercing through your defenses, and your gaze hardened, but you couldn’t hide the flicker of fear in your eyes. The fear that, deep down, he might be right. The fear that your Order, those you would give your life to protect, might indeed see you as a threat, something to be eliminated. The Sith sensed that shift within you, and his gaze became even more penetrating, probing every corner of your mind. It was as if he could see every weakness, every hidden thought, and he used them with a terrifying skill. “You can’t hide from what you are, y/n. The dark side isn’t a weakness… it’s your strength. And you know it.” You gritted your teeth, disgust and anger mixing into an explosive blend that pushed you closer to the edge. He seemed to know exactly which buttons to press; every word, every look was a sharp blade striking at your raw nerves. The tension inside you grew, turning into a knot that threatened to snap. Until you could no longer hold it back, and it was in that moment that you ignited the lightsaber, the glowing blade just a breath away from his neck. “It won’t be like that,” you hissed, your voice barely above a whisper, desperately trying to stay calm, though your eyes betrayed the mask of confidence you wore. “I will not succumb to the dark side.”

The man remained still, his mocking smile slowly widening as his eyes stayed fixed on yours, as if he were looking through you, reading every hidden thought. He swallowed slowly, a gesture that seemed almost like an invitation, a further provocation. The blade of your saber illuminated his face, but there was no trace of fear in his eyes, only a cold calm. “It’s not something you have to give in to… it’s inside you,” he said with that velvety voice of his, each word a whisper insinuating doubt into your certainties. His words struck you like a blow to the heart, breaking that fragile barrier you were desperately trying to maintain. “Your potential is immense,” he continued, lowering his voice to a warm, almost intimate whisper. Your gaze grew sharper as the subtle poison in his words sought to seep into your consciousness. The lightsaber blade barely touched his skin without making contact, his calm expression only annoying you. It was as if the threat had no effect on him, as if he knew you would never have the courage to go through with it. Every movement he made was slow, deliberate, calculated to keep you on edge, playing with your emotions like a master puppeteer. Anger bubbled within you, a fire growing ever stronger, fueled by his words, his confident smile, the way he seemed to control everything. You couldn’t deny it; there was a part of you that wanted to give in, that wanted to let go of the anger, the pain that burned so intensely. And he knew it; you could feel it in his voice, see it in his eyes.

“I understand…” His voice was a seductive whisper, just above a breath, as his hand rose with studied slowness, approaching yours without ever touching it. His eyes, which had been filled with impenetrable confidence until now, took on a new light, something deeper, almost vulnerable. “I’ve lost everything, y/n…” His gaze now seemed sincere, almost pleading for some strange reason. “But when you lose everything,” he continued, his hand now resting on yours, which still gripped the cold lightsaber handle. The contact was surprisingly gentle, a light pressure, but enough to make you feel the warmth of his skin against yours. His grip was soft but firm, and the contrast between his words and the apparent gentleness of the gesture made you waver. “That’s when you’re truly free,” he concluded, his voice a whisper carrying an inescapable weight, an invitation to surrender, to let go of everything that still bound you to the light. His gaze locked onto your eyes, deep, almost pleading, but not for pity: for understanding, for sharing. It was as if he wanted you to see the world through his eyes, to understand that the dark side wasn’t a condemnation but a liberation. His words struck you forcefully, penetrating your defenses once again with lethal precision. It wasn’t just a mental game; there was something genuine in the pain that lingered in his voice, a shadow of loneliness that echoed your own torment. And in that moment, the Sith you had seen as an implacable enemy became a figure that seemed to understand your suffering, your anger.

“The anger you feel, the pain that consumes you… you don’t have to fight it,” he continued, his tone calm and inviting. The tension between you was thick, almost suffocating. You felt the dark side’s pull toward him, the promise of freedom shining like an irresistible temptation. But there was something more in that man, something human, making it harder to you to ignore. The sincerity in his gaze, his voice dropping to an almost intimate whisper, made you doubt your certainties. His hand, warm against yours, made you feel dangerously close to an abyss you weren’t sure you wanted to avoid. You remained still, analyzing his words in your mind. The lightsaber still tightly gripped in your hand, your teeth clenched as you swallowed before sighing, thinking about what you should do. You deactivated the lightsaber and stepped away from him, pressing the hilt of the now-deactivated saber against his chest. You wouldn’t be deceived by his seductive words. You knew who you were and what you fought for. But, inside, a small part couldn’t help but wonder: what if he was right?

“You don’t know me to tell me these things. And as I’ve said, I’m not corruptible like my sister,” You hissed, your voice charged with a tension the man couldn’t help but appreciate. He let his smile spread slowly across his face, watching with almost amused interest as you deactivated the lightsaber and then pressed the hilt against his chest. The determination in your eyes, the resolve in your gesture, fascinated him. It wasn’t the reaction he had expected, but there was something in you, an inner strength, a resilience that intrigued him deeply. He could see the internal struggle you were facing, the conflict between the Jedi code and the emotions he had deliberately stirred.

The Sith, with a slow and measured gesture, placed the hilt of the deactivated lightsaber on a nearby rock. The smile on his face shifted into a smirk of satisfaction. “Perhaps I know you better than you think,” he admitted, his voice soft and filled with an intensity that echoed in the silence of the cave, where only the crackling of the fire could be heard. “I see who you are… who you could be. Your strength, your will…” His steps continued to close the distance between you, and you took a step back, trying to maintain the space between you. He gently took your wrist and pulled you slightly towards him, towering over your smaller figure. He looked at you with what might have seemed like admiration or… desire. You held your breath, swallowing, paralyzed by what could be the gentlest yet most dangerous of predators. The man brought his face closer to yours, the distance between you reduced to mere centimeters, his breath mingling with yours, warm and slow. His touch was once again firm but never painful. His eyes, dark as the abyss, glowed with an intensity that slowly captivated you. You found yourself hanging on his lips, almost asking for permission to breathe regularly. “It is rare…” he concluded. You took a deep breath, and the tension between you was growing increasingly palpable. His tone was like sweet poison, flowing slowly through your veins, making you doubt once more everything you had always believed. His hand slowly moved from your wrist to your side, stopping just below your ribs, where the wound, though treated, still throbbed painfully. The contact, though light, made you flinch, a mix of pain and something else you couldn’t quite identify. You felt the warmth of his body against yours, the tension between you becoming almost unbearable.

“You’re still loyal to someone who didn’t think twice about abandoning you to the enemy on Khofar some nights ago…” You swallowed at his words, feeling the knot in your throat that blocked every word and the weight in your stomach. “Deep down, you’re still searching for a master, someone to guide you… That life, you’ve never truly felt it as your own; they never understood you,” he continued, his gaze fixed on your eyes as if he could see inside you, reading every thought, every hidden emotion. “But I can.” For a moment, you felt yourself falter at those words. The tension between you was palpable, and you could not take your eyes off what must be your enemy, although your mind tried to keep lucidity. Your breathing was slow and irregular, each breath an attempt to hold back an invisible and unknown force that seemed to want to overwhelm you. The knot in your throat was getting tighter, blocking the words you wanted to say. Your eyes were mesmerized. There was an incredible intensity in those foxy eyes, a mixture of fear and fascination that left your heart inexplicably throbbing and mind confused. You failed to swallow trying to make words come out to counter his claims

“You are like me…” he whispered a short distance from your lips.

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Notes :

Well, yes, the sexy hot af villain who will be the protagonist of the new series is Him. Qimir, from The Acolyte. If you don’t know him, go and watch that series because Manny Jacinto put all his effort to seduce us towards the dark side. This is just the beginning, still do not know how many chapters will have but I hope not many, I would like to write about more topics for him.

if you haven’t seen the series there will be some spoilers, so please watch the series first

-Mel

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚

[mostlysignssomeportents]

2600’s amazing Hackers on Planet Earth con may go down under enshittification

Catch me in Miami! I'll be at Books and Books in Coral Gables on Jan 22 at 8PM.

It's been 40 years since Emmanuel Goldstein launched the seminal, essential, world-changing 2600: The Hacker Quarterly. 2600 wasn't the first phreak/hacker zine, but it was the most important, spawning a global subculture dedicated to the noble pursuit of technological self-determination:

https://www.2600.com/

2600 has published hundreds of issues in which digital spelunkers report eagerly on the things they've discovered by peering intently at the things no one was supposed to even glance at (I'm proud to be one of those writers!). They've fought legal battles, including one that almost went to the Supreme Court:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/DeCSS

They created a global network of meetups where some of technology's most durable friendships and important collaborations were born. These continue to this day:

https://www.2600.com/meetings

And they've hosted a weekly radio show on NYC's WBAI, Off the Hook:

https://wbai.org/program.php?program=76

When WBAI management lost their minds and locked the station's most beloved hosts out of the studio, Off the Hook (naturally) led the rebellion, taking back the station for its audience, rescuing it from a managerial coup:

https://twitter.com/2600/status/1181423565389942786

But best of all, 2600 gave us HOPE – both in the metaphorical sense of "hope for a better technological tomorrow" and in the literal sense, with its biannual Hackers On Planet Earth con:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hackers_on_Planet_Earth

For decades HOPE had an incredible venue, the Hotel Pennsylvania (memorialized in the phreak anthem "PEnnsylvania 6-5000"), a crumbling pile in midtown Manhattan that was biannually transformed into a rollicking, multi-day festival of forbidden technology, improbable feats, and incredible presentations. I was privileged to keynote HOPE in 2016:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f1D7APjmVbk

But after the 2018 HOPE, the Hotel Pennsylvania was demolished to make way for the Penn15 (no, really) skyscraper, a vaporware mega-tower planned as a holding pen for luxury shopping and empty million-dollar condos sold to offshore war-criminals as safe-deposit boxes in the sky. The developer, Vornado (no, really) hasn't actually done all that – after demo'ing the Hotel Pennsylvania, they noped out, leave a large, unusable scar across midtown.

But HOPE wasn't lost. In 2022, the ever-resilient 2600 crew relocated to Queens, hosted by St John's University – a venue that was less glamorous that the Hotel Pennsylvania, but the event was still fantastic. Attendance fell from 2,000 to 1,000, but that was something they could work with, and reviews from attendees were stellar.

Good thing, too. 2600 is, first and foremost, a magazine publisher, and these have been hard years for magazines. First there was the mass die-off of indie bookstores and newsracks (I used to sell 2600 when I was a bookseller, and in the years after, I always took the presence of 2600 on a store's newsrack as an unimpeachable mark of quality).

Thankfully for 2600, their audience is (unsurprisingly) a tech-savvy one, so they were able to substitute digital subscriptions for physical ones:

https://www.2600.com/Magazine/DigitalEditions

Of course, many of those subscriptions came through Amazon's Kindle, because nerds were early Amazon adopters, and because the Kindle magazine publishing platform offered DRM-free distribution to subscribers along with a fair payout to publishers.

But then Amazon enshittified its magazine system. Having locked publishers to its platform, it rugged them and killed the monthly subscription fees that allowed publishers to plan for a steady output. Publishers were given a choice: leave Amazon (and all the readers locked inside its walled garden) or put your magazine into the Kindle Unlimited system:

https://www.amazon.com/kindle-dbs/arp/B0BWPTCP4K?deviceType=A1FG5NAKX0MRJL

Kindle Unlimited is an all-you-can-eat program for Kindle, which pays publishers and writers based on a system that is both opaque and easily gamed, with the lion's share of the money going to "publishers" who focus on figuring out how to cheat the algorithm. Revenues for 2600 – and all the other magazines that Amazon had sucked in and sucked dry – fell off a cliff.

Which brings me to the present moment. After 40 years, 2600 is still at it, having survived the bookstorepocalypse, the lunacy of public radio management, the literal demolition of their physical home by an evil real-estate developer, and Amazon's crooked accounting.

This is 2600, circa 2024, and 2024 a HOPE year:

https://www.hope.net/

Once again, HOPE has been scheduled for its new digs in Queens, July 12-14. Last week, HOPE sent out an email blast to their subscribers telling them the news. They expected to sell 500 tickets in the first 24 hours. They didn't even come close:

https://www.2600.com/content/hope-ticket-sales-update

It turns out that Google and the other major mail providers don't like emails with the word "hacker" in them. The cartel that decides which email gets delivered, and which messages go to spam, or get blocked altogether, mass-blocked the HOPE 2024 announcement. Email may be the last federated, open platform we have, but mass concentration has created a system where it's nearly impossible to get your email delivered unless you're willing to play by Gmail's rules:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/10/dead-letters/

For Emmanuel Goldstein, founder of 2600 and tireless toiler for this community, the deafening silence following from that initial email volley was terrifying: "like some kind of a "Twilight Zone" episode where everyone has disappeared."

The enshittification that keeps 2600's emails from being delivered to the people who asked to receive them is even worse on social media. Social media companies routinely defraud their users by letting them subscribe to feeds, then turning around to the people and organizations that run those feeds and saying, "You've got x thousand subscribers on this platform, but we won't put your posts in their feeds unless you pay us to 'boost' your content":

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/04/platforms-decay-lets-put-users-first

Enshittification has been coming at 2600 for decades. Like other forms of oddball media dedicated to challenging corporate power and government oppression, 2600 has always been a ten-years-ahead preview of the way the noose was gonna tighten on all of us. And now, they're on the ropes. HOPE can't sell tickets unless people know about HOPE, and neither email providers nor social media platforms have any interest in making that happen.

A handful of giant corporations now get to decide what we read, who we hear from, and whether and how we can get together in person to make friends, forge community, rabble-rouse and change the world. The idea that "it's not censorship unless the government does it" has always been wrong (not all censorship violates the First Amendment, and censorship can be real without being unconstitutional):

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/04/yes-its-censorship/

What can you do about it? Well, for one thing, you can sign up for HOPE. It's gonna be great. They've got sub-$100 hotel rooms! In New York City!

https://store.2600.com/products/tickets-to-hope-xv

If you can't make it to HOPE, you can sign up for a virtual membership:

https://store.2600.com/products/tickets-to-hope-xv-virtual-attendee

You can submit a talk to HOPE:

https://www.hope.net/cfp.html

You can subscribe to 2600, in print or electronically (I signed up for the lifetime print subscription and it was a bargain – I devour every issue the day it arrives):

https://store.2600.com/collections/subscriptions-renewals

2600 is living a decade in the future of every other community you care about, weird hobby you enjoy, con you live for, and publication you read from cover to cover. If we can all pull together to save it, it'll be a beacon of hope (and HOPE).

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/19/hope-less/#hack-the-planet

[astriddestelle]

In light of discovering I’ve been a friends to lover girlie this whole time. Here’s are my top ten friends to lovers of all time canon and non canon.

1. The ship that started it all admittedly I liked Raven more so I shipped her with Robin, but my god Robin and Starfire were cute a whole ass ship I didn’t even realize I was shipping until they kissed in the movie and I was squealing like well I was a kid lol. My favorite episode aside from the Raven ones were always the ones focused on their relationship. Stranded was chefs kiss. I’m not a girl I’m not your friend. Date with Destiny had me gagged. Sisters the arm reach as she’s kidnapped beautiful. No other couple will compare.

2. God when this was airing what a time to be fucking alive. I was so obsessed with this ship. My first fanfic ideas were about this ship. I used to roleplay this show at school. They were so fucking messy with their just friends bullshit. Just friends my ass. I used to watch episode 22 routine on repeat and yes I have it memorized they almost kissed then spent the rest of series pretending they weren’t down bad for each other. They never actually made it official either which will forever haunt me to this day.

3. This one crept on me. I didn’t realize I shipped it until I shipped it and there was no going back. I mean come on. The look of love is literally their theme song. What do you mean Langa only likes skateboarding when Reki is there to watch and cheer him on. What do you mean Reki is afraid of Langa getting hurt not himself but Langa. Cindereki need I say more. The most casual friends to lovers cause they don’t even realize till the end. I went to skate infinitely with you who says stuff like that to someone they’re just friends with. How they adopt each others love languages through your the show. Ugh.

4. Alright imma be honest. This one started as me just wanting to read more Itadori fics but my god. If gege wasn’t a coward they would’ve been official (jk mostly) but Megumi only wanting to live a domestic life with Yuji, regaining the will to live after Yuji says he misses him, not having a reason for saving him not wanting him to die, start by saving me itadori…yeah. And itadori never giving up saving fushiguro, first words out of his mouth are always fushiguro, tells Sukuna to give fushiguro back. I mean how could I not.

5. Might be too early for me to be adding them to this list but so far Momo and Okarun have all the makings of being just as great as Robin and Starfire if not better. Two idiots sharing one brain cell the way they actually communicate with each other, Okarun getting salty when people insult his wifey, Momo getting jealous when people flirt with her husband. Okarun straight up telling Momo he can’t read her mind but he cares about her and values her friendship. Momo straight up saying she wants to talk to Okarun and loves hanging out with him. I’m into deep and it’s only been nine episodes. First time I’ve been this invested in a straight ship in years.

6. Back to the classics with this one. And I’m lowkey starting to sense a pattern. Cause why do they all involve redheads in some way and do I have a type? (yes) Kim and Ron are the original boss wife/fail husband. They’re so cute cause if you rewatch the series there’s all these little hints that they always liked each other (it took you 12 stinking years to kiss me) (I mean me and Kim sure everyone expects it but) but like didn’t wanna ruin their friendship fucking cute as hell idk if it was intentional on the writers part but yeah

7. Gwen and Geoff from Total Drama Island. They had one episode together and I was a goner. Idk I just love my sun and moon motifs as yall can clearly see. Something about the black cat golden retriever dynamic just tickles me I guess. I know yall see the potential. I rewrote total drama island just to get them to together it was bad

8. Harry and Luna from HP. Idc he shoulda been with her and not Ginny. No shade to Ginny but I just feel like they would’ve been such a great couple. Harry with someone who understands him and will never make him feel like he needs to live up to the savior role and Luna with someone who will never judge her for being different or odd. Sigh. So much wasted potential. So stinking cute oddly doesn’t exist as much anymore sigh.

9. Birdflash. I will not deny a huge part of this stems from really liking Wally West and that’s pretty much it. And I wanted more fics about him. I did not like Artemis at all, no one else shipped him with Zatanna or Rocket or Batgirl or Megan so Robin it was lol. But I mean I’ve been eating since so I can’t complain.

10. Ok while I don’t like this ship anymore I can’t deny I was obsessed with it for a hot minute. Danny/Sam from Danny phantom so much freaking potential and actually really cute from 10 year old me’s pov too bad they don’t hold up as an adult. I was very much obsessed with goths as a kid huh.

Honorary mentions

Adrien/Marinette: I haven’t seen enough of this show to put em in my top ten but my god is it cute af sometimes I just need to cute sunshine’s falling in love that is all. I’ve seen enough to know I’m rooting for both of em. A

Jade/Andre: I was obsessed with the episode he had a crush on her. Also in canon he’s the only one she calls a friend, they have lunch dates, she isn’t ever mean to him not as mean as she is to everyone else. I think it’s be cute af alright. Plus Andre wouldn’t flirt with other girls and make her jealous

Tododeku idk yall I just think they’d be cute af together not much else say. Same goes for Mina and Bakugo. Idk I just like em.

Sheen/Libby very refreshing to see a black girl get a love interest and not be discarded later. Sigh too bad that hasn’t happened since like 2006

can also throw on numbuh one and numbuh five from kids next door for similar reasons above. As well as numbuh two and numbuh five

[roguegambitweek]

Legacy

A few of our prompts this year make specific reference to the comics. We know that not everyone has read the comics (there are a lot of X-Men comics out there) and we don’t want anyone to feel left out.

So, without further ado… Legacy.

First, as the prompt is written, you can create your fanworks around the concept of legacy—of what a person leaves behind, their long lasting impact on the world. This could be children, inspiration, etc. Or, it could even be a meta exploration about Rogue and Gambit’s impact on comics, the X-Men, or any other medium they’re in. Feel free to play with this concept of legacy.

Now, if you’re interested in the character of Legacy, read on.

In 2011, there was a X-Men Legacy/New Mutants crossover event called ‘Age of X.’ In this bubble, alt-universe, dystopian world, Rogue goes by Legacy.

As Legacy, she’s present whenever another Mutant dies. She absorbs them, preserving their memories and, in a way, memorializing their lives. Because she mostly appears when Mutants die (and there are quite a few deaths since they are being hunted to extinction), other Mutants begin associating her with death. They call her Reaper, a name which she despises and continually asks them to not to call her that. Due to various reasons, Legacy spends most of her time alone, or sequestered in the Fortress.

This is a lonely existence for Legacy. And here enters our hero.

Gambit does go by Gambit, although he uses a long rifle instead of cards. One of the first times Legacy and Gambit meet, he calls her Legacy (her preferred name). When she asks him why he is helping her, he proclaims, “I don’t even know, chère. I saw you fighting, is all. And I knew what side of the fight I wanted to be on.”

Anyways, they go on a quest together to discover the truth behind the contradictions of their dying world, share a few romantic moments, and are willing to lay down their lives for each other. Even though they just met, they work together like they’ve been partners their entire lives. Truly, Romy are the OTP across the Multiverse.

In the end, they save the day and everyone is returns to the regular 616 universe. Most participants in this bubble world choose to forget about it, but Rogue retains Legacy’s memories.

The entirety of Legacy’s appearances occur in the AoX arc and for once, it is relatively achievable to read the entire crossover. Below is the reading with the essential Romy moments bolded.

Reading list in Order:

Age of X Alpha

Chapter 1 - X-Men: Legacy (2011) - issue 245

Chapter 2 - New Mutant, issue 22

Chapter 3 - X-Men: Legacy issue 246

Chapter 4 - New Mutants (2011), issue 23

Age of X Universe #1

Chapter 5 - X-Men: Legacy, issue 247

Chapter 6 - New Mutants, issue 24

Age of X Universe #2

X-Men Legacy, 248, Age of X Aftermath (Just stop reading after the ‘home and harbor’ speech)

[deancasbigbang]

Title: The Duke's Exchanged Fiancée

Author: verobatto

Artist: Diminuel

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Dean/Castiel (Chuck/Naomi, Hannah/Gadriel)

Length: 22882

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence.

Tags: Arranged marriage, royalty au, top!Dean/bottom!Castiel, time travel, case fic, hurt/comfort, sassy!Castiel, slow burn, happy ending, fluff and smut.

Posting Date: October 22, 2024

Summary: What would you do if you could go back in time and fix what went wrong? After Castiel Novak and his parents die at the hands of the Duke Winchester for treason to the Emperor, Castiel returns to life two days before the catastrophe and tries to stop the tragedy by asking to be taken by the Duke instead of his sister, Dean's fugitive fiancée, as a financial advisor. The Duke accepts the offer and spares the Novaks' lives. However, Castiel will soon discover that the Duke has not taken him to his dukedom to be just his advisor.

Excerpt: “Castiel? What are you doing here?” Halting, Castiel turned around and stared at him speechless. The Duke narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he approached him and then chuckled. “Did you miss me that much to search for me outside the hall? That's touching,” the Duke said and Castiel dropped his jaw, muted. Finally, Castiel shook his head and glared at the Duke. “Who's missing who? You're insane. Did you know that?” And why the hell am I blushing? “Mhm.” Dean placed a finger on his chin as he tilted his head. “Maybe you want to dance with your finacé.” “I don't want to dance! What are you…?” As Castiel felt he was losing his voice, Dean grabbed his hand all of the sudden and led him back to the Hall. “Let's dance then,” Dean said and in a few seconds they were dancing in the hall, and everyone was watching them again. At the distance, Castiel could hear Lafitte's laughter. Ashamed, Castiel dropped his gaze to the ground. His face was burning and he couldn't look at the Duke's eyes. “You dance nicely.” Maybe the Duke’s voice was sincere, Castiel didn't know. He only wanted to be swallowed by the ground. “Please–” Castiel pleaded, yet the Duke made him twirl like a freaking spinning top. When the song ended, Castiel thought that was the end of the martyrdom. He thought wrongly. Without previous warning, the Duke pulled him closer by the waist and kissed him in the lips. A cheerful ‘Oooh’ mixed with Castiel ragged heartbeats.

DCBB 2024 Posting Schedule

[mcspirkevents]

20 more days till Mcspirk Month 2024

McSpirk Month, what is it, and how does it work?

Mcspirk Month is a fandom event meant to celebrate the ship of McCoy/Spock/Kirk, in any and all forms. QPRs are valid, and celebrated here.

If you make something for Mcspirk month you can post it on tumblr and tag this blog (I'll reblog your works). You can also post it to the Ao3 collection, found here.

Mcspirk month 2024 begins March 1st. However you can post whenever you want. (If you find these prompt lists five years after the fact and still want to post to the collection, or tag this blog then go for it!)

Can I mix and match prompts?

Absolutely! If there's an NSFW prompt you want to write the most tooth-rotting, safe for work fluff with, then do it. The vice versa is also cool.

What are the Bonus prompts?

They are extra prompts. If there's a day with a prompt you don't like, you can switch it out with the bonus prompts. You could even combine them with other prompts if you want.

Below the cut will be written out list of the days and prompts. The NSFW list is below the cut.

SFW list of prompts:

Day 1: Forced Proximity

Day 2: Touch-starved

Day 3: Badass Power Throuple

Day 4: Hand Holding

Day 5: Hurt/Comfort

Day 6: Protective McCoy

Day 7: Going to a Planet Where They Have To Wear Silly Outfits

Day 8:Public Display of Affection

Day 9: Spock is a Hopeless Romantic

Day 10: Hands

Day 11: Shore Leave

Day 12: Vulnerability

Day 13: Time Loop

Day 14: Tarsus IV

Day 15: Fake Dating

Day 16: Lost the Ability to Speak

Day 17: McCoy Hurt with Spock and Kirk Comfort

Day 18: Jealous Bones

Day 19: Kirk is Missing, Presumed Dead

Day 20: Trans

Day 21: Academy Era

Day 22: Oblivious Scotty

Day 23: Reunion

Day 24: Temporary Blindness

Day 25: Temporary Awkward Ability

Day 26: Western AU

Day 27: Vacation Gone Awry

Day 28: Awkward Spock

Day 29: TOS/AOS Crossover

Day 30: Desperate Measures

Day 31: Insecurity

Bonus Prompt #1: Chekov discovers the truth

Bonus Prompt #2: Pining

Bonus Prompt #3: Nightmares

Bonus Prompt #4: Uhura helps them out

Here is the NSFW Prompt list:

NSFW list of prompts:

Day 1: Non-Human Genitalia

Day 2: Hands

Day 3: Only One Bed

Day 4: Pon Farr

Day 5: Against A Wall

Day 6: Vulcan Biology

Day 7: Hand Kink

Day 8: Finger Kink

Day 9: Telepathic Sex

Day 10: Double Penetration

Day 11: Fuck or Die

Day 12: Aliens Made them Do It

Day 13: Sex in a Three Way Body Swap

Day 14: Power Dynamics

Day 15: Uniform Kink

Day 16: Body Worship

Day 17: First Time Bottoming

Day 18: Oral Fixation

Day 19: Sex Toys

Day 20: Accidental Voyeurism

Day 21: Bondage

Day 22: Mirrorverse

Day 23: Teasing

Day 24: Alien Biology

Day 25: Praise Kink

Day 26: Expectations vs Reality

Day 27: Voyeurism

Day 28: Trying a New Toy

Day 29: Getting Interrupted

Day 30: Spitroasting

Day 31: Lab Desk

Bonus Prompt #1: Pet Names

Bonus Prompt #2: Body Hair

Bonus Prompt #3: Blindfolds

Bonus Prompt #4: Misuse of the bond

[robinette-green]

Two Hunters and a Bloodsucker

My life is good for what it is. Except that I’m dead. Well, undead. I’ve been undead for about 15 years now, and I haven’t aged a day.

Being a vampire hiding among humans can be difficult at times, mainly dealing with sunlight and avoiding mirrors, but I manage. I’ve been living and working in this little town as the town blacksmith for about 7 years now, and I’ve become a full-fledged member of the little community here.

I thought I had been doing a good job hiding my presence among the humans, but one day two of the most well-known vampire hunters came into town. If they find out what I am, they will kill me, but both of them have become intent on becoming my friends and maybe more. How can I keep myself from being discovered when two hunters are trying to romance me?

Current word count: 58,520

Tags: Sun and Moon are humans, Fluff and Angst, Sun and Moon are vampire hunters, Blood, Not beta read we die like men!, Blood Drinking, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Angst and Feels, MC is a vampire, Mild Gore

AO3 Chapter Links:

Chapter 1: Hiding in Plain Sight Two vampire hunters come to town and ask me to forge them some silver bullets

Chapter 2: Complications Despite trying to avoid both hunters, I run into both and the flirting intensifies

Chapter 3: Deadly Romance The two hunters watch me work and I accidentally take a nap on the roof of my workshop

Chapter 4: This is a chapter I’ve gone too long without drinking blood but I need to finish these bullets.

Chapter 5: Leaving The hunters take me with them when they leave to take care of their next job

Chapter 6: This is Also a Chapter On the road and the hunters start asking me questions about being a vampire

Chapter 7: Chapter Name Here We reach a little seaside town and get a room at an inn

Chapter 8: Why do Chapters Need Names? It’s morning and we meet with an old friend of the hunters

Chapter 9: I Refuse to Come up With Another Real Chapter Name Classic horror movie setting. A thunderstorm and an old rickety house on a cliff.

Chapter 10: This Chapter has a Fight in it … This chapter had a fight in it.

Chapter 11: Really Dead? Lives are saved and we’re on the road again

Chapter 12: Hot Stuff (I’m not sorry) We make it to the capital city and meet the hunters’ uncle

Chapter 13: Well… Blood, a nap, and a nighttime walk

Chapter 14: AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!! “What happened to ‘I need time?’”

Chapter 15: What are Emotions? Floating on a fluffy cloud of fluff.

Chapter 16: Calm before the Storm Food and new clothes

Chapter 17: Chapter The Hunters Guild

Chapter 18: Chapter the next Late night visitors and a trip to a famous smithy

Chapter 19: Beginning of the End Things aren’t always what they seem

Chapter 20: Loss and Blood Escaping and meeting a horse

Chapter 21: Running Trying to get back to town

Chapter 22: Chapter plus a number of Meeting old friend and coming up with a plan

Chapter 23: Body Chute Sneaking in to save the day

Chapter 24: Hell Fire We’re here to save the day! But can we get away?

Chapter 25: The Worst Chapter

Horrible things happen

Chapter 26: IN PROGRESS

[sophaeros]

the strokes at a pub in london, with the robot gifted to them by rip it up's journalists

the strokes for rip it up - new zealand, october/november 2001 / no. 283 — web version print version

The Strokes, us and a robot in a pub...

by The Ballroom Regulars Photos by The Strokes and Ju-ju (unless otherwise noted)

'The coolest band on the planet', the saviours of Rock, featured in Elle Magazine, played on the Catwalks of New York and Paris, hounded, followed and adored - Not since Oasis broke have the British press put all their eggs in so fabulous a basket. Rumours abound - their names are made up, they were put together by the lead singers dad (John Casablancas, founder of The Elite Model Agency), they're constantly fighting with each other, they're constantly fighting with strangers, they drink too much, they're gay, they're straight, they're homophobes. Everybody wants to know everything they can. But one thing is sure, The Strokes are roundly agreed to be the quintessential Rock band, the 'great white hope' of nu-Rock'n'Roll. But they're more than that. They're five guys who hooked up in High School with a shared interest in booze, girls and guitars.

So what are they all about, besides saving us from the glut of pre-masticated pop and soul stifling dance, what are their hopes and ambitions?

Meeting Julian Casablancas is like meeting living proof that rock'n'roll will never die. At 22 he should be embracing the 'Now' culture of many of his peers. He should be scrupulously clean, drug and booze free, heading down to Florida for the summer break with a pretty blond on his arm and Basement Jaxx on his personal MP3 player.

But he's not. He's still in bed, hung over, refusing to get up. He is unwashed, jet lagged and beer crusted. YAY! When he finally does show, 2 hours late for the day's round of fanzine wackiness, he's disheveled and rye. His grin is about as infectious as rabies and he is, frankly, as sexy as fuck. "Hey" notes Ryan Gentles, their Wunderkind Manager, whose been sitting fretting in the hotel lobby for what appears to be half the night and all of the morning. "This is new..." he means Julian's tan La Coste jumper... not the attitude.

When we get our turn at The Strokes info trough the boys are tucking into Thai rice and a round of the amber nectar. It's 1pm. The sun is shining. Handshakes and suitably half-assed 'nice to meet you's' are flung at us and we wade in...

First, an Icebreaker. Giving them a present fresh from Brixton Market - Your All Plastic Friend: Sir Mixalot Prime - hastily re-christened toy Robot of Asian origin, is about as good as ice breaking gets. The mood of the interview is set... they like us, we admire and respect their ability to make Sir Mixalot simulate sexual intercourse with Nicolai Fraiture. "You bought us a present? That's so cool!" they chime satisfyingly. All except Julian who looks mortified, "I had a dream last night and that Robot... a Robot just like that destroyed the world..." Ah...Ok, maybe we should get straight to the questions.

Right, so what makes the world turn for them? Playing music and doing their stuff, by all accounts. Their stuff: a sublime mix of 70's NYC and noughty's savvy. Fashion flash and strep throats, with a smattering of anglophilia to match the op-shop chic. Garage soul sensibilities and themes as diverse as personal disgust and underage lust. They are 'The Kids' too so it seems right to mellow out with a few pop culture questions to gauge their mind sets:

In the movie Warriors, which gang did you relate to most? Fab: Oh wait...I've seen that. Is that like the 70's one where they're in gangs running across New York? Yeah! Nicky: There's the baseball gang, and the “girl gang” Fab: What was the main gang? WARRIORS! Albert: WARRIORS! Fab: Yeah, we're the Warriors!! Totally.

After an hour of this we discover that Julian always roots for the underdog and doesn't "really give a fuck about baseball" and that the last time Albert cried was "as the plane was taking off". For Fab it was when Nicky's girlfriend dumped him (for the cute one from Weezer no less). At this Nicky leaps to his feet to sing Don't Cry For Me Fabrizio! At the top of his lungs.

"The Beatles hated each other, but we love each other", Nicky says. To prove the point they all agree that if they could only take five things to a desert island they would take each other and their Manager. That is until Julian demands that one band member opt out so they can "take something more useful like a girl... or our fucking instruments". In the nick of time Nicky reasons that they can make their instruments out of coconuts and bamboo.

The band are open and unguarded - they want to chat. Chiefly with each other, but it's fine just being around this kind of energy. They even happily answer the question that's been raging through the music press for the last six months: YES! Their names are real. As Nicky puts it "Course they're fucking real," gulp, "what a stupid question."

"You wanna see my passport?" yells an unfazed Fab. Cue enormous Italian passport (he was born in Brazil of Italian parents but grew up in NYC) and suitably hideous soccer mullet teenaged photo, nom de: Fabrizio Moretti. "It looks ridiculous," he sighs, "It looks like I'm out of the Military!"

Julian is also carrying proof, so you know they've had this problem before. Cue credit card sized driver's license and an acute sense of having offended your new friends.

Julian F. Casablancas. Nicolai Fraiture. Fabrizio Moretti. Nicky Valensi. Albert Hammond Jnr. You have to ask. You just have to.

Oblivious to the fact that nearly everyone in England is named John Smith, they are dumbfounded that they get asked this question at all. "I guess we just had cool parents who chose our names," chimes Fab, "My mom was like (mock Italian accent) I think this boy will be a rocking roll star!"

The table then descends into chaos and spilt pints as they 'discuss' the finer moments of Mrs. Moretti's partum experience. "But," adds Fab soberly, "she didn't know I was only going to be a drummer... she was too extravagant."

And what about their collective name? 'The Strokes' brings all manner of vaguely squishy images to mind, not the least of which is that favoured by the British press. "What? You mean like...masturbation?" asks Julian looking all innocent, like he is daring us to say the word. Er...yeah, or is that more indicative of your interviewers mindset?

"Nah, it's got nothing to do with that... well... it has, but, no." Albert takes up the baton, "Actually I was reading something about strokes and it described it like a lightening strike in the brain that changes everything." He passes it to Fab, "It's like our music!" One hit and you're never the same again? "Exactly!"

Evidently no subject is sacred. When we finally get round to asking them the all-important 'Who was better - Wham! Or Duran Duran?' question, they almost all say Wham! (Except Fab who's enjoying singing 'Rio' at the top of his voice...bless) Why not Duran Duran? "They took themselves too seriously." states Nicky emphatically.

Fair cop. But a bit rich coming from a band that refuse to do video's, co-produced their debut album without taking any credit, and toured every little pub town from here to Toad Suck, Arkansas. A band who have yet to release an LP (slated for September) despite appearing on the cover of every self respecting music mag on both sides of the pond. They take themselves seriously, OH YES.

The album, 'Is This It', took them one month to record... one month... thirty days. It is the product of their 'salad days' gigging around Manhattan and Philadelphia.

 "That's why it works so well," says Fab, "we've had a really really long time to perfect the album outside the studio... an album that's like... that's who we are as The Strokes."

Who they are is a piece of carefully crafted art that WILL move you from the groin on out. A record to be cherished for its ability to make you smile and get up. Surely this is the wonder of 'Is This It', it's Rock 'n' Roll that makes ya wanna move.

After experimenting with a different producer, namely Gill Norton of Hüsker Dü fame, the boys went back to their old friend Gordon Raphael who originally produced their 3 song EP 'Modern Age'. They wanted to cut back on production, as Albert says, "To keep it true to the live set." They all agree that Norton was great, but not for them.

"Doing things professionally doesn't fit with our style," the lax and by now pissed voice of Julian crawls across the table, "if we stay...raw it sounds, like...great." RAW?! Talk about understated! On the track 'Take It Or Leave It' you can hear this man's tonsils crying out for mercy, you can smell the blood on Albert's shirt sleeves... This ain't no Radiohead mate.

The band even co-produced the album to maintain a level of control over the sound. The chemistry between them and Raphael worked it's way onto the vinyl.

"When you're working with someone and you know that the two of you are just doing something better than you were doing on your own. That's the best way to work." says Julian of the experience. They're not completely pleased with the Steve Albini School of Sound Engineering however. "I don't think it looks that cool when a band produce themselves," pipes Nicky, "You wanna picture the band going in and playing the songs (not) oh now they're too cerebral. It's like a fun thing." So no credits for the boys. They just wanna rock, and drink. Which has to be admired.

They're also un-phased by the press's insistence on linking them to The Velvet Underground, The Stooges, The Ramones and any number of late 70's NYC Punk they care to mention. 'Is This It' isn't going to shatter anyone's illusions about what these boys want to sound like. This album springs from the head of John Cale fully formed and fighting fit.

"What a cool band to be compared to," admits Julian about The Velvet Underground. He means a band that's beloved and credible, different and weird... not to mention fucking good. "It's sorta a subconscious goal to have music that cool, but actually make it popular... a cool way to make popular music more interesting." Hurrah.

We demand an explanation for so suddenly signing to majorinos RCA then. A chorus of oohs and ahhs goes up around the table before the earnest protestations that RCA are the best of a bad bunch, not so bad, and quite ok really fly. They do look slightly... defensive? Cautious? Albert pipes up: "It's like being a bisexual!" Being with RCA is like being a bisexual? "Yeah, you get the best of both worlds."

The rest of the band agrees. "They just give us money and stay out of our way" says Nicky, flicking his hair out of his eyes.

Are they unrepentant about signing to a major?

"I had the fucking head of RCA on the phone at 4 o'clock in the morning," states Julian, "telling me how much he loved the album." Yes indeed.

So sign to the Rough Trade phoenix for your soul's sake and the Big Money for lig? Why is this not sickening? Why are the credibility censors not in overdrive? Because this is a BAND pure and simple. Mates who saw the spark reflected in each other. And they ain’t that pretty or well dressed. OK they are, but the point is, they just ARE. The Strokes were always going to happen thank Christ. A wake up call for the apathetic. No slouching unless you mean it. More than the sum of their parts, more than The Velvets/Stooges/Television honorists.

"I had this idea to make it (the album) sound like music heard in the future from 30 years ago," says Julian. Fab explains, they were listening to the radio and La Bamba by The Gypsy Kings came on.

"It was terrible and Julian said we should make it (their music) sound like it was the original, by Richie Valens."

Huh? Julian pipes up, "I wanted to make the music sound like it was from 30 years ago, but being heard now. With everything that entails. Do you understand?" If he means pared down and honest to the point of embarrassing, then yes. "Or the other way", he says, "like music from the future heard now..."

True, 'Is This It', sounds a little like it's something you dug out of your Dad's wardrobe where the band on the cover are all wearing winkle pickers, whatever they are. There's more though, an understanding and knowledge that blasts the naïveté of 60's Garage out into space. It's lyrical. 'The Space ships they won't understand'?

"The lyric is 'IN space ships they wont understand'," corrects Julian talking about the bridge to 'Last Night', "and what it means is that in the future, when we're all flying to work in fucking space ships, it'll still be the same old shit. Like, no one will understand why you have to just do it." Fab leaps up to hug Julian, "That's fucking beautiful man!"

Julian's descriptive powers aside, aren't they worried that they'll loose this edge? Money, girls, and power, have wrecked havoc with better men than them.

"But who cares as long as it sounds like we want," mutters a very distracted Nicky, only putting his head up occasionally from his magazine. "I mean, rawness (derisive snort), maybe we will want it more produced if that's what we like."

And here in lies the rub. In a perfect world RCA would not throw money at these kids. RCA would ignore them no matter how good they actually were, no matter how much they want the cotton wool cosseting of the Big League. The band would have to work, creating themselves every step of the way. Paying their dues and becoming in the end a band utterly worthy of the great white hope tag that has been hanging so carelessly on their coat hanger shoulders. They are SO good, but you want them to be great. And Christ you can smell the greatness waiting to get out in every jangled chord of Hard to Explain, on every slinky line of Barely Legal. These things take time. One album does not a legacy make. There has to be more to come, and there is such a thing as too much too soon.

A friend said, they'll get exactly what they wanted. And the sad thing is so will we, the 20-episode Pop Stars fix. Will hype drown the creative spark? The worry is that in 6 months time no ones gonna give a fig about Fab's broken hand, and Julian's Dad, anymore than they'll care about any second album. The backlash that never should have been may have already begun...

A few days later we bump into The Strokes lending moral support to fellow NYC space cadets, the Moldy Peaches, at their first London gig. The boys are high as heaven having come straight from the BBC where they recorded three songs for the legendary Top of The Pops. "Man," wails Julian, resplendent in pink silk tie and shiny grey suit jacket, "It was so fucking cool! It fuckin' rocked!"

Fab is more sedate. "I can't believe we did it, but I fucked it up!" Surely not? "I was so nervous I kept making mistakes. I sucked." But watching their performance on the show later it is easy to see that this is a band still on the rise, perfectionism aside they control the stage, the cameras and above all the hearts and souls of an audience more accustomed to Shaggy and Nelly Furtado. The fact that they're on TOTPs at all (their single Hard to Explain entered the UK charts in the top 20 on a wave of passion and NME hype) speaks volumes about the music buying public's desire for some goddamn GRUNT.

At their epoch marking, celebrity studded, sold out show at Heaven in London, tickets are changing hands for £150! At the after party the place is in a frenzy. The boys can barely move for the cameras clicking, autographs to be signed and girls hanging off every thread of their thrift store suits.

"I've been trying to get to the other side of the room for the last hour," Julian says incredulous and separated from his mates as they are accosted from all sides.

Nicky is posing in a photograph for a fan. Nicolai is signing a CD. Albert is being followed and literally clawed by a young female. It is as if she senses that this is her only chance before he gets blasted into the rock god pantheon. Fabrizio escapes the seething mass, broken hand in a sling (sadly replaced temporarily half way through their UK and Australian tour with Strokes friend Matt Romano), opting to talk to people outside the guest pass zone.

They have made it, with all it entails. Young, talented, beautiful, cool and full of charisma, it seems that the rock and roll glitterati is at their blessed Rock'n'Roll feet. Hype and fashion aside, the music stands for itself. This is what we've been waiting for.

[i-heart-hxh]

A Day in the Life of Killua

I wanted to share a translation of an excerpt from this Hunter x Hunter Characters Book, published in 2001.

Translation:

A Day in the Life of Killua

My own big prediction!

Although he has lived a life soaked in blood, Killua is probably no different from a normal 12-year-old. Let’s take a closer look at the life of Killua, who says he loves sweets!

10:00 Wake up

11:00 Gon arrives.

While I was dozing off in the morning, I hear Gon's voice inviting me to play with him. I’m embarrassed for some reason, so I hit him without thinking.

12:00 Play with Gon

14:00 Lunch

We have lunch while wandering around town. I feel it’s more fun to eat outside than in a restaurant.

15:00 Snack

16:00 Play some more

17:00 Discover Illumi.

While I was making a pit trap to trick Gon, somehow I found Illumi. I dash away like I'm about to die, and calm myself down.

17:05 Buy Chocobo

19:00 Dinner

20:00 Go to Gon's room

22:00 Go to bed in Gon's room

While talking with Gon about what we did in town, it gets to be late at night. It’s too much trouble to go back to my room, so I go to bed next to Gon.

A word from Killua

You're totally wrong! Why do I keep eating sweets all the time? And why is my brother Illumi buried in the garden? You're making fun of me!?

Japanese Transcript:

(Just because I went through the trouble to transcribe it, and in case anyone wants to do their own translations!)

とある１日のキルア

勝手に大予想

血に染まった人生を歩んできつつも、たぶんは普通の12歳となんら変わりのないキルア。そんな、おかしが大好きだというキルアの生活に迫る！

１０：００　起床

１１：００　ゴンがやってくる

朝、ぼーっとしていると、ゴンの遊びを誘う声。なぜか照れているので、おもわず殴る。

１２：００　ゴンと遊ぶ

１４：００　昼ご飯

街をブラブラしながらの昼食。お店で食べるよりも、外で食べたほうが楽しいと感じる。

１５：００　おやつ

１６：００　さらに遊ぶ

１７：００　イルミを発見

ゴンをだまそうと落とし穴を作っていたら、なぜかイルミがいた。死にそうなくらいダッシュでにげて、心を落ち着かせる。。。

１７：０５　チョコロボくんを買う

１９：００　夕飯

２０：００　ゴンの部屋に行く

２２：００　ゴンの部屋に就寝

ゴンと街で遊んだことを話合っているうちに、深夜に突入。自分の部屋に戻るが面倒なので、そのままゴンの隣で就寝。

キルアより一言

ぜんっぜん，ちげぇーよ！なんでずっとおかしばっかり食べてんだよ。それにどんな意味があって、庭にイルミ兄が埋まってるんだ？バカにしてるだろ！？

Another thing I want to note about this book is that it has a full story in it, which you can find translated here! It's an interesting read in general--it's based off episode 46 of the 1999 anime, which deviates from the manga and has its own original story, and this story then expands upon that original story. One thing I think is especially interesting is the story starts off with Gon and Killua sleeping in the same bed, so this book makes two separate mentions of that being something they do, which is cute. ❤️

While Togashi didn't write the story himself or likely the contents of this book, he did write an afterword to it, so I'm guessing he must have at the very least read it over and approved of the contents before it was published, and it's certainly possible he had more involvement than that as well. Take the canon status of it all with a grain of salt, I'd say it's more semi-canon/a different version of canon than 100% canon to the manga (similar to how I consider the 1999 anime additions/changes as well), but it's interesting nonetheless and fun as far as shipping fuel goes!

[spiritsglade]

also 8, 12, 22, and 26 for Jason!

[character ask game]

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

Oh dear. Hard to choose one thing. I think my least favorite is that progression where Jason sees proof that Bruce grieved him -> reconciliation immediately happens. The things Jason is upset about in Under the Hood go deeper than just "Bruce wasn't sad enough when I died :(" and I feel like going with that just... eh. It's not my thing. (Also it generally comes hand in hand with Talia was evilly manipulating him into hating Bruce narratives, which I fundamentally reject.)

Tangentially from this if we're gonna go with a story where Jason is angry about Bruce replacing him with Tim, I want to see Tim go 'no no I figured out his identity and made him make me Robin because he was borderline suicidal and Batman needed a Robin,' I want Jason to react to knowing this information like he did in canon. I want him to be like 'do you really think you figured it out on your own. Bruce doesn't make mistakes like that. He did this on purpose to drag you in.' I'M JUST SAYING, look at what he was saying in Teen Titans #29 (because he somehow knew that Tim figured out Bruce's identity):

You spent weeks tracking the Dark Knight. Solving a mystery no one else could. You discovered who he was behind that mask. […] If someone was really trying to find out who Batman really was. If someone was trailing him for weeks. He'd know about it. […] He let you find him."

Let Jason (incorrectly) call Tim a lying liar 2k25.

Anyway the writing where Jason is appeased by learning that (1) Tim figured out Batman's identity independently and convinced him to make him Robin, (2) Bruce did try to kill Joker but Superman stopped him, (not what happened in that comic, for the record,) and (3) Dick killed Joker temporarily that one time is just... not very interesting to me. To me, their conflict is not one that can be easily cleaned up by clearing up a couple misconceptions. And I feel like this reading also ignores the much more irreconcilable moral divide between what Jason and Bruce believe these days.

Of course this also ties in with the whole Lazarus Pit Madness headcanon which... I flop around how I feel about it but I don't like most depictions of it.

Speed round other things I don't like:

Making Jason a brawler or someone who acts before he thinks. He is a planner!!! Yes he gets angry and lashes out but let him premeditate the lashing out. He's honed it into something that will hurt the other person the most first.

Jane Austen is not his entire personality let him read other books let him enjoy other media let him have other interests. What happened to his love for Poison Idea.

Replacement <- stupid fucking nickname. Jason can do better.

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

IF HE HAS PIT SIDE EFFECTS THEY ARE GOLD COLORED !! I AM A GOLD LAZARUS PIT TRUTHER AND WILL BE UNTIL THE END OF TIME

(ignore every time i've written a fic involving green pit water. i had yet to see the light, then)

I have can't shut up disease about Jason so hang on here's a list.

Hair: Black with white streak. Curly. I am anti-ginger Jason I'm sorry

Eyes: Sheila Haywood blue for the angst of it. Brown is a favorite for aesthetic reasons. Juni Ba white, normal UTRH movie green, and Lazarus Pit gold are acceptable. Lazarus Pit green... thin ice.

Scars: Batarang scar necessary and important he always has it UNLESS specifically fanon Lazarus Pit healing nonsense took it away, in which case the fact that it isn't there makes his mental health even worse. I reject the autopsy scar but I see the appeal of making it a vivisection scar. The J brand/scar on his face I also disagree with.

Lazarus Pit erases scars for me, so vivisection scar also wouldn't exist in my heart.

Jason being unable to die permanently is canon in my heart.

Okay bonus here's a silly headcanon that I think I discussed with you before but: a reading of Jason pre-Pit as a Hollow (a body without a soul,) similar to how Oliver Queen was during Quiver (the first arc of Green Arrow 2001). Since Oliver saw Robin in heaven... just saying. Jason's soul was there.

Jason post-Pit has a soul that the Lazarus Pit fabricated and gave him. Pit Madness episodes are actually just when his new Lazarus Pit soul being imperfect, thus allowing demons to temporarily possess his body. But also sometimes his real soul from before gets his turn with the Xbox. You can play this for comedy. You can play this for angst. I think I'm explaining it bad but I think of this concept often and one day I will do something with it.

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to this character? Something you don't like?

Honestly just see my answer for question 8 with regards to what I don't like, that still holds true here.

I like it when he's competent and smart and also when he gets to be a bit of an asshole as a treat. I really enjoy interpretations where he takes care of Crime Alley (I know it's a fanon thing). Him being able to flirt up until he actually likes someone, at which point he will forget every communication skill he has ever gained. His compassion esp for victims is the most important thing ever to me. I like when people remember that he was about two millimeters from blowing Bruce the fuck up in the Batmobile. Him believing in his own code of ethics separate from Bruce is also a very key part of who he is!!

LOVE IMMORTAL + ALL-CASTE + [SELECTIVELY] MUTE JASON TODD HEADCANONS. WRITE THEM MORE.

Okay hang on hot take: I don't really... agree? with how people usually write his death trauma flashbacks. Like I am very much an original Death in the Family comic arc truther with how everything went down there, which means:

He was not tied up. The Joker did not spend hours upon hours torturing him and verbally taunting him. (Sorry I am so sick of reading the words forehand or backhand?) Joker beat him up for like... 20 minutes at the very maximum and it's implied that he didn't even intend to kill Jason.

He was not alone when he died. Sheila was there. Even if you want him to hate Sheila forever and ever I think them dying together is soooo important. He wasn't alone.

Jason was not staring at that countdown. I don't think that would be a trigger for him. Even ignoring the fact that he was in and out of consciousness at that point, he spent those last few seconds launching himself to shield Sheila from the blast. Wasn't looking at the countdown.

Smoke inhalation didn't kill him I don't care what Mortimer Gunt's shitty incorrect death certificate says. It also says that he died in Bristol, Gotham. It also says that he was 4'6" (he was 5'4" according to NTT #55). The explosion murdered the fuck out of him. (The original comic says that his body was already cool when Bruce got there, which is nonsensical, but does imply to me that he was already dead dead in the explosion. It wasn't the smoke that got to him.)

I also don't like when fics reveal the Batarang Incident by having Jason use it as ammo when he's lashing out. He would not do that. That is a secret that would have be pried out of him with a crowbar.

26. What's something the character has done you can't get over? Be it something funny, bad, good, serious, whatever?

THROWING A BOMB OFF THE WESTMINSTER BRIDGE. AND, WHILE HE WAS ACTIVELY TRYING TO DISARM IT BEFORE THEN, TAKING THE TIME TO MAKE FUN OF THE CONSTABLE'S BRITISH ACCENT FOR THREE PARAGRAPHS STRAIGHT.

"Hush up, Constable. Daddy's busy." "Bloody hell." "Yeah, 'bloody hell', 'bollocks' and 'bob's yer uncle.' Back the hell up twenty feet. I need both hands to do this and I can't keep the gun trained on you. Step up on me, I'll draw and you'll be having crumpits with Mary Queen of Scots." "What are you doin' there?" "Playing Mah Jong, Mary. Almost got me four melds here--aw, crap. I just found the timer. Looks like it's tea time."

^this entire exchange. I'm never recovering from it. Jason you are seventeen. (Red Hood: Lost Days Issue #5)

[candycryptids]

THEN vs NOW with Chuu- my first character and also my Main. She went through big changes! I started playing like 4-5 years ago (who can remember exact dates, really?)

Cut cos it’s gonna get uh, image heavy.

Would you believe she didn’t get fat until like 2023? It feels like she’s always been fat in my heart but no… she was skinny for a long time… that’s wild. She was a summoner main ride or die for like EVER too lmfao also, I don’t actually have many good pictures of “early Chuu” because I played on a laptop that gasped for life every day I played until I upgraded to a PC I built in like, I wanna say ‘21? So every screenshot has incredibly crusty resolution and you can’t zoom at all xD

Here’s my attempts at mystery- back when EW was announced I decided Chuu was going to make a “clone of herself, but less attractive, and a man” which lead to some fun internal studies on what she found attractive about herself to begin with in the later stages of Tuesdays actual FR development.. there wasn’t a way to make the mannequin float in a tank I tried really hard 😩😂

You can see I started getting more into modding tho c: back in the days where Mods were loaded via Textools and affected everybody and we just ???? Coped.

And then in like, January ‘22 I discovered….. scaling with Anam. Which was tricky; when I did a pose, I had to remember to load her scaling, and then also adjust any skirts she had on, because otherwise she’d be too fat and simply clip through them…. Chuu went through an explicitly Only Pants and Shirts Phase xD

“When did Chuu get so dark like nowadays?” Apparently, Post Being A Lalafell. And then an Au’ra. this is also when I started really gaining steam in non-vanilla gposes, but it didn't actually fully take off to the races until sometime in mid-late '23/early '24 I think.

(thanks @meatybits for sometimes doing shitposts on my poses I always love them x3)

I can’t even pinpoint when Customize+ became a thing I was using which kinda sucks because it really changed the game for me LOL. Chuu got to be fat ALL the time! Forever! Fat Bunny!!! This was a slippenslide to customizing everyone a little bit forever, but I dont think I’ll ever regret it u_u

I like fat people and I like being chubby irl and I like making characters that deviate from the expected norms because I’m Ace, Agender, and Aro, and Poly+married, and I like it that way!

Bonus! The very first screenshot I could find featuring Chuu, ever! Taken by Talia (the Roe)

I was tagged by @displaykitkats and more people insisted I should do this than I can think of and further still have ALREADY done it- so just thank you for reading this jumbled mess if you did and you should give it a shot if you want to :)

[pinkspiderastrology]

The Correct Birth Chart of Malcolm X: Scorpio Rising

In Honour of His Centenary

Based on my corrections to settings and calculations using online planetariums and my own star charts, which synchronise the constellations with the Nakshatras (28) and the Gregorian calendar - four years' work.

Part 2/?

Kristen Patterson / KP O'Neil

Jan. 15, 2025 / Uttara Ashadha P3 & P4 in Sagittarius / Social Capitalism & Prolific Writing

Recap from Part 1:

Malcolm's Sun / Gameplay instincts and triggers: Krittika Padas 1 & 2 in Taurus - Key-Holder & Diplomat

the stars of Subaru-The Pleiades-Seven Sisters-Mothers: territories, events and abilities of The Shining, life patterns from the story of Kartikeya / The Murugan and the Chakras;

Malcolm's Ascendant / Core Personality and life-drive: Jyeshtha Pada 3 in Scorpius - Ouranos Secrets in revolution, technology, astrology & stolen children -

the star Paikauhale (The Wanderer/Homeless) with his Ouranos at Lambda Piscium, the Red Room star (Twin Peaks - David Lynch is right) addressing the use of the term Black Lodge;

and edit: I wrote and published this the day before the announcement of David's death/transition - I wondered at his death being on the 16th, in Prolific Writing, when he was clearly the perfect Social Capitalist - and it turns out he transitioned on the 15th, when the energies shift between Social Capitalism to Prolific Writing - not the first time I've paused to be correct about the Pada of our deaths being the reason we die -

I'm moving forward with an eye for signs that Malcolm has been connected to David's work and Spirit Guides for some time - and I'm sending his chart to his children, to Bob Roth at the David Lynch Foundation, and to Tony Nader - hopefully one day these astrology corrections can be added to their/his toolkits;

Malcolm's Descendant / Core Personality as death-drive (thank you, Sabina Spielrein, for discovering it:) Rohini Pada 3 in Taurus - Business Guru

the star Hassaleh in Auriga (The Charioteer;)

Malcolm's Venus / Investments: Krittika Pada 3 in Taurus, conjunct with Betty's birthday, next to his Sun - Professional Muse

the stars of The Hyades again: territories, events and abilities of The Shining, life patterns from the story of Kartikeya / The Murugan and the Chakras;

Betty is his Muse, and he is everyone's... hmmmm... pause for heartbreak, thanksgiving...

With an AA Rodden rating for Malcolm's birth time, his Vertex and Anti-Vertex are seemingly fixed to the dates of Jul. 21-27 and Jan. 22-28: Padas 2 & 3 of Pushya in Cancer, and Padas 2 & 3 of Abhijit in Capricornus -

Praesepe/The Beehive/Home of Big Brother and The All-Seeing Eye,

and Okul/Occulus/The Eye of the Goat -

eyes on eyes -

(same Ascendant/Descendant as mine, and therefore same Vertex/Anti-Vertex - my experiences mixed with my research landed me at the decision about Lodge territory in the Beehive - but the Beehive originates with the Supreme God-Mother, Ala, and the Sibyls - is it truly Her territory, being smeared or overrun? Let's see if I can decide by the end of Malcolm's chart analysis... and given his devotion to Allah... does the name Ala pre-date the word Allah?)

I would, and I will - one day - take more time with these placements -

but speeding right along, I'll explain his Anti-Vertex as being near-fated decisions/actions he pretty much had no choice but to accept and enact, hitting those calendar dates more than once -

(and here's where he helps prove me right about re-inserting the displaced Nakshatra of Abhijit - and at full-size - when I found a gap in the Wheel by synchronising three ways of measuring it, back in 2021:)

I estimate Padas 2 & 3 of Abhijit, Jan. 22-28 (in Capricornus - not Aquarius - according to online planetariums, which is where I get my birth chart data,) to belong to Fated Winners/Heroes and Reverse-Engineers -

and I can detail what Malcolm was reverse-engineering by checking his chart circuits;

each of us have patterns (these circuits) set by our Ascendants, and they can be found in list-form and geometrically by lining up the 112 Padas (same if you stick with 108 Padas) so your Ascendant tops one column, next to Pada 1 of Ashwini in the other column - geometrically, by drawing lines across your chart wheel, starting with your Ascendant and Ashwini Pada 1 - I'll make diagrams of Malcolm's circuits and include them here:

(watch this space for images)

so - Malcolm's near-fated decisions and actions are as a Fated Winner/Hero - free will/wheel, at all? His sister Ella, in interview, stated they watched over his birth keenly, the seventh child, as a family rooted in ancestral understandings about the seventh child being born to do great things -

while his Vertex is interdependent with his Anti-Vertex: chicken-and-egg scenarios, as his decisions are relative to the near-fated decisions and actions of The Hive - namely the Caregiver-Medics and Collaborators in and around it...

people and Spirit Guides can be associated with this placement by calendar dates...

I guess I should check the reverse-engineering sooner than later...

...right - same circuits as mine, so only a few minutes to check:

Malcolm was/is reverse-engineering as a Jupiter Leader (my estimation of Pada 1 of Uttara Phalguni in Leo,) and an Interviewer (my estimation of Pada 1 of Mrigashira in Taurus;) with Jupiter Leadership generally amounting to our Wheel-Turning influence on the world - Jupiter being your primary function and House Lord (Creator of Houses, actually - as proven by a school/tradition of Chinese astrology;)

Malcolm's Jupiter, Wheel-Turning influence - if you're ready for it - in Pada 3 of Uttara Ashadha, in Sagittarius (here-and-now, as I type,) aligned with the modestly-named h1 & h2 Sagittarii, and Iota Sagittarii -

in what I call Social Capitalism - unfailingly sustainable (competant against militant threats,) profitable community economics -

his primary function, in all his houses - astrologically and geographically -

his concepts, Gurus, significant male relationships -

"You can't have capitalism without racism."

"Show me a capitalist, and I'll show you a bloodsucker."

(I'll come back with original sources for those quotes from him, but there he is - reverse-engineering capitalism as a social capitalist in interviews...)

think I'll mic-drop for now, and go make a cup of tea...

Oh - but I should include Malcolm's Juno with his Jupiter -

Juno pulling back the clouds to see what Jupiter is doing -

I connect Juno to dissociation, as illustrated by my delayed remembrance to include her in this post -

and in child-friendly terms, I connect Juno to the Fool's Journey in our charts - the Dorothy-and-Toto journey (and I'll choose The Wiz, much as I love Judy - and knowing how much David Lynch loves her...)

Malcolm's Juno being in Ophiuchus, lining up with the Moth Cluster and Baby Scorpion Cluster/Caldwell 76 in Jyeshtha Pada 4 of Neptune Secrets (Soul Contracts, murders, Muses - murdered Muses) - conjunct with his Core Personality/Ascendant,

with his Neptune below Leo's jaw - in Pada 4 of Ashlesha, conjunct with his Sevastopol asteroid - as in, Crimea/strategic position, heavily-fought-over - Pada 4, in my estimation, belonging to Anarchists, ruled by the star Algenubi/Ras Elased - (Southern Star of) the Head of the Lion -

Dorothy, Toto and the Lion... Ted Ross... will look for connections...

but I'd say we're right over the target: can't have sustainability without profit - just need the profit to be ethical -

Malcolm's dissociative-thinking, awakening-to-self...

does he have a strong placement influencing his Neptune Leadership in Pada 4 of Uttara Phalguni... I'll come back and say whether or not, when I exhaust my search...

but with Juno close-to-the-bone, so-to-speak, and Malcolm's Descendant as Business Guru - ahhhhh! That's his Descendant talking, when he calls down capitalism -

his Descendant dogged/Toto'd by his Juno, and how many Anarchical Muse/Neptune Spirit Guides reaching out to him through his Neptune -

with himself being poured out through his Venus investments as a Professional Muse to everyone in the world - no balance of profit for him in that role -

unless...

[ducktu]

With Dia de Muertos being between today and tomorrow, it's time to auto promote my own fic about Día de Muertos with Tim and Jason!!

Happy Día de Muertos Red Hood! by sparklesparklebigirl

Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types

Teen And Up Audiences

No Archive Warnings Apply

Gen

Complete Work

22 May 2024

No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne

Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth

Tags: Jason Todd is Red Hood, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Catherine Todd is Jason Todd's Parent, Jason Todd is Mexican, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Jason Todd is Good at Feelings, Fluff, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Día de los Muertos | Day of the Dead, Jason Todd is Latino, Tim Drake Gets a Hugno, No beta we die like jason todd, Canonical Character Death, canon? what's that, Not Canon Compliant, Freeform

Summary:

Tim decides that Jason Todd deserves his altar on Día de Muertos, even when he comes back from the death.

Then Jason discovers it.

Language: English, Words: 2,243, Chapters: 1/1

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

The Ten Commandments

1 And God spake all these words, saying,

2 I am the Lord thy God, which have brought thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.

3 Thou shalt have no other gods before me.

4 Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth.

5 Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor serve them: for I the Lord thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me;

6 And shewing mercy unto thousands of them that love me, and keep my commandments.

7 Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain; for the Lord will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain.

8 Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy.

9 Six days shalt thou labour, and do all thy work:

10 But the seventh day is the sabbath of the Lord thy God: in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates:

11 For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is, and rested the seventh day: wherefore the Lord blessed the sabbath day, and hallowed it.

12 Honour thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee.

13 Thou shalt not kill.

14 Thou shalt not commit adultery.

15 Thou shalt not steal.

16 Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour.

17 Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s house, thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s wife, nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing that is thy neighbour’s.

18 And all the people saw the thunderings, and the lightnings, and the noise of the trumpet, and the mountain smoking: and when the people saw it, they removed, and stood afar off.

19 And they said unto Moses, Speak thou with us, and we will hear: but let not God speak with us, lest we die.

20 And Moses said unto the people, Fear not: for God is come to prove you, and that his fear may be before your faces, that ye sin not.

21 And the people stood afar off, and Moses drew near unto the thick darkness where God was.

Laws About Altars

22 And the Lord said unto Moses, Thus thou shalt say unto the children of Israel, Ye have seen that I have talked with you from heaven.

23 Ye shall not make with me gods of silver, neither shall ye make unto you gods of gold.

24 An altar of earth thou shalt make unto me, and shalt sacrifice thereon thy burnt offerings, and thy peace offerings, thy sheep, and thine oxen: in all places where I record my name I will come unto thee, and I will bless thee.

25 And if thou wilt make me an altar of stone, thou shalt not build it of hewn stone: for if thou lift up thy tool upon it, thou hast polluted it.

26 Neither shalt thou go up by steps unto mine altar, that thy nakedness be not discovered thereon. — Exodus 20 | King James Version (KJV) The King James Version Bible is in the public domain Cross References: Genesis 2:2; Exodus 6:6; Exodus 10:25; Exodus 14:13; Exodus 15:11; Exodus 19:25; Exodus 23:1; Exodus 28:42-43; Exodus 32:1; Exodus 32:8; Leviticus 19:11-12; Deuteronomy 4:33; Deuteronomy 5:22; Deuteronomy 27:5-6; Joshua 8:31; Ezekiel 43:17; Matthew 5:21; Matthew 5:27-28; Matthew 15:4; Matthew 19:18; Luke 3:14; Luke 13:14; Luke 23:56; John 9:2; Acts 4:24; Galatians 3:19; Hebrews 12:18-19; James 1:12

Exodus 20 Commentary - John Gill’s Exposition of the Bible

Key Events in Exodus 20

The ten commandments are spoken by Jehovah

The people are afraid, but Moses comforts them

Idolatry is forbidden

Of what sort the altar should be

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Matt Keeley at LGBTQ Nation:

Every hot sauce fan has their favorite—and there’s a good chance that your favorite is Valentina, one of the most popular hot sauces in Mexico. But Valentina is more than just a great condiment; it’s named for a crossdressing hero of Mexican history, Valentina Ramírez Avitia. Ramírez Avitia sadly died in poverty, but the sauce named for her helps the world honor her memory. 

She was born in 1893 in Norotol, a town so small that nearly all that comes up when you Google it is references to Ramírez Avitia. Her father was an early casualty of the Mexican Revolution of 1910, and at 17, she decided to join the fight for her homeland in his place. 

Of course, it being the early 20th century, women weren’t allowed to fight in the military. So she dressed in drag, studied how her brothers walked and talked, and named herself “Juan Ramírez,” according to GQ.

“In November 1910, I joined General Iturbe’s group, but dressed as a man with the name of Juan Ramírez. Juan Ramírez fought until June 22, 1911, fighting alongside the soldiers who took the plaza of Culiacán, overthrowing on that glorious date Governor Diego Redo, General Higinio Aguilar and Colonel Luis G. Morelos,” she said in a 1969 interview cited by the Mexican magazine Noroeste. “Ramírez” proved to be a great soldier, and it was the battle in Culiacán that led to her promotion to lieutenant. Things were going well, and she was respected among her fellow soldiers. 

But on June 22, 1911, things fell apart. “When I was giving water to my horse near the island of Orabá, he knocked my hat off and a revolutionary who was next to me discovered my long braids. He thought I was an enemy spy and took me to the general. After an interrogation, when he discovered that I was a woman, he was shocked. He congratulated me but immediately discharged me because he did not admit women into his ranks, just like General Villa. From then on, I never again smelled gunpowder,” she said in 1969.

Though there are many stories of what we would now call trans men throughout history, including some who fought in wars, Ramírez Avitia does not appear to be one of them. Just as she said that she never smelled gunpowder again after leaving the military, it appears she never again donned men’s clothes either.

Despite being the only one of her siblings to join the cause, they all shunned her on her return because she was not at home to take care of her sick mother. Her mother died, and her family never forgave her. She left Norotol for good and moved to Culiacán, marrying Colonel Federico Cárdenas, who left her a widow after a few years.  Twenty years after she was kicked out of the military, she met General Iturbe again. He recognized her and gave her a recommendation to work as a maid with a wealthy family. But in 1969, she was hit by a car, which left her disabled for the rest of her life. Once she was discharged from the hospital following the accident, according to Noroeste, the city council of Culiacán sent her to a nursing home, but she escaped only a few days later.  “I prefer to die with my dogs than to die a prisoner,” she said at the time. Unfortunately, Ramírez Avitia was not eligible for a military pension. Unable to work, she became a beggar, living in the city of Navolato. Unable to walk, she used a wheeled board to get around. 

She loved dogs and had many with her in her small home. This proved to be her downfall, as it was likely a dog that knocked over one of her votive candles, lighting her home on fire, burning it down with her inside. She died shortly after on April 4, 1979, and, according to Noroeste, was buried in a pauper’s grave at the Culiacán Civil Cemetery. Though the woman named the Lioness of Norotal was sadly not taken care of in life, she inspired tributes in art, even while she was still alive. She was the subject of a popular corrido, a Mexican narrative form similar to the ballad. Written a few years after the Mexican Revolution, the song stripped her of her agency and denied her role in the Mexican Revolution. The government at the time wanted to deny that women had helped fight, according to the Library of Congress. Instead the song is from the point of view of a soldier in love with Valentina, who says that his passion for her has led him to the war. 

The story behind the Valentina hot sauces that a lot of us are familiar with when we have Mexican food: The brand is named after Valentina Ramírez Avitia, who fought in the Mexican Revolutionary War despite being banned from joining the military at the time, thus she dressed in drag as Juan Ramírez.