#and i have read some interviews and who was hired for what and... it explains a few things to me

[chiptrillino]

What's your opinion on jee in the live action avatar? (And the whole 41st Division change)

anon... not like natla is the worst that could have happened to this franchise. but i really couldn't vibe with the natla...

jee is just... younger jee i guess. and the 41st surviving was like... cheep writing vise? Something to force us getting emotional, which to me personally didn't work? so.. uh... -srugs- Ehhh

[uzurimisery]

the space between two bodies. / satosugu x reader / part 1

Warnings: MDNI, happy ending, angst, cheating (not really this is explained in part 2), unhealthy relationships/coping mechanisms, suicidal ideation, depression, smut, no sorcery au, unedited

A/N: I started thinking about Gojo with anxiety and nihilist Geto and then what that looks like in a poly relationship with someone as flawed as they are

part two

“We’re sorry but we’ve decided to go with another candidate now. We will retain your information on file should a more suitable role open up.” 

The email stared back at you, the words on your phone screen blurring as droplets of rain hit it as you read it over for the hundredth time. Today was just another shitty fucked up day in the endless string of shitty fucked up days that had become your life. The third consecutive month of unemployment in a row. At least previously you could get temp jobs but now each day that passed just ate away at you with how useless you felt. 

Pocketing your phone, you pull out a 100 yen coin and put it in the vending machine.

You didn’t even like your old job but Jesus it was like no one was actually hiring. And when you did get an interview, you’d get ghosted afterward. On the rare occasion they didn’t ghost you, you’d receive a rejection letter like this one. It was preferable, you supposed, that your existence and effort were at least acknowledged, no matter how much it stung. Still hurt like a bitch to be told you weren’t good enough. 

Anything would be better than this, fuck you’d take being overworked and underpaid if it felt like you were doing something. This endless cycle of gnawing uncertainty and applications, interviews, followed by rejections. Worse than that you were out of deodorant and trying to find some in Japan was a Herculean effort. 

Yeah, it’s been a shit go and you’re fucking exhausted.

Maybe you’d go be an English teacher like everyone else who moves to Japan. You wouldn’t need a co-teacher so the pay would be better if you were just starting out. Not that you wanted to teach again dear god that was less than ideal. Thank god you had settled status. The thought of having to deal with visa issues at the same time made you feel sick. 

Maybe you could work at a host club. You turned, staring at your reflection in the glass. Your boobs weren’t half bad as you pushed them up from the underside like a push-up bra would. Or sell feet pictures. The market was probably oversaturated at this point but maybe there would be some interest.

Wait Jesus had your hair looked like that all day? Fuck. No wonder that girl kept staring at you on the train she thought you were a lunatic.

Sighing you press the button for 4H. It wasn’t like you’d always been this way, sort of drifting in a sea of uncertainty abroad your boat of doubt with no wind to guide your sails. There was a period of time, maybe a five-year stretch after you had graduated from university where your life was on track. An entry-level job in your degree field, a long-term boyfriend turned fiance, wedding planning, and a great group of friends. Shit, you had it all. 

The fiance was the first to go. 

As it turns out, finding your fiance in bed with the girl he swore you didn’t have to worry about, his tongue halfway down her throat like he’s trying to do an endoscopy, is a terrible way to find out you’re being cheated on. When he noticed you standing in the doorway he had the gall to sputter some bullshit about how it was your fault it happened. You were too focused on your work, you didn’t give him attention, blah, blah, blah. It was you who broke the relationship up by working so much and being married to your job. And as he paid for the overpriced four-bedroom apartment in an area of Tokyo that you didn’t even like, you lost the apartment in the breakup. 

You couldn’t slum dog millionaire your life away on Shoko and Utahime’s couch forever eating tubs of ice cream and binging TV after that, so everyone told you, or rather forced you, to move in with Suguru and Satoru. Bouncing around from couple to couple. It did give you some stability and just as things go up so must they come down. 

The company you were working for was liquidated after an investigation by the federal government found years of tax fraud. Luckily they got bought out, and you thought maybe if you put in work you could still climb the ladder. But all those late nights in the office, conbini dinners, and unpaid overtime, you were just another name on a severance list.

It felt like waves were crashing over you, each one larger than the rest. Almost like you were tied to a dock during a hurricane, a tsunami, or some fucking natural disaster that threatened to drown you if you didn’t hold onto something but there wasn’t much to hold on to. You could hold onto the minuscule amount of friendships that you had at least. It was far too awkward and messy to keep up with anyone else other than your main four since the rest were so tied to your ex-fiance and his life. Stupid fucking lawyer. 

The four of you were close-ish. Less close since Shoko had gone on rotation at a university on the other side of Tokyo. It meant she and Utahime had moved nearer to it since Utahime was willing to commute. But Suguru and Satoru were still close with you and still dating.  Biting as that felt at times. 

You met Geto first in a shared philosophy lecture. One of those run-of-the-mill ones, but the content that really got the two of you talking was nihilism. It was the seminar groups after class you shared where he really saw you. Stripped away of pretenses and your nerves laid bare. Not just another face in a lecture hall but something more, something human. The deep indents of nails in your palms and the rubbing of your hands together under the table. He had seen right through you, recognized the darker parts of himself in you- it made you feel understood.

The machine made a mechanical noise and the lights flickered. Sighing you kick the machine lightly to see if anything happens, if life could give you this one thing today that you so desperately needed. Just like everything else, nothing goes your way and your stupid drink stays logged on the shelf. So like every reasonable person you kick the machine again. 

“Stupid fucking piece of shit machine,” you murmur a growing string of profanities under your breath as you repeatedly kick the machine

.

All you wanted was one of those ¥100 coffee drinks that were loaded with caffeine to keep going through your slog of a day was that so hard? Maybe it would be best if you just packed it up and called it quits. Move back home with your parents and be berated daily. Why aren’t you married? Why did you and Kosuke break up? When are they going to get some grandchildren? They aren’t getting any younger you know. Face the cutting shame of fucking up another opportunity, another chance. 

What was the point in trying anymore when you couldn’t even get a stupid drink that you don't honestly even want at this point out of a vending machine so you can go home and masturbate to audio porn before you cry yourself to fucking sleep? 

Suguru’s voice cut through the spiral of thoughts, your name on his lips. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you had an interview and you’d be home late?” 

Of course, he’d catch you like this. 

“Hey Sugs,” it came out as a groan as you kicked the machine again, a loud clang following as your drink hit the bottom of the dispenser. Bending down, you grab the can before turning and facing him. “I did.” 

“How’d it go?”

“Like shit.” Maybe you should work on your delivery. This flat effect is really making you should like a bitch. Are you a bitch? 

Geto’s eyes raked over you, infuriatingly calm and measured. He was always so carefully disheveled, the type of person to look effortlessly put together no matter the occasion. Stupid name-brand black sweater over a white button-down half tucked into chinos with a chain on the belt. His hair, shiny and perfect, was neatly tucked into his signature half-up-hald-down look to keep the strand out of his eyes, minus the one for style. Notably, he was wearing his glasses for once, sleek frames perks on a tall nose. Oh, he smelt nice too, his sandalwood and bergamot cologne hitting you as he stepped closer, extending his umbrella to cover the two of you. Fuck he was so handsome it wasn’t fair.

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Geto replied softly.

You shrugged, trying to brush it off. “ It is what it is.”

But the reality of it clung to you and drug you down, down, down into the depths of your psyche. That small, scared feeling you tried so hard to suppress started bubbling up again, twisting your insides into knots. It made you feel sick, so much like a lost little child in a world that had grown far too big and complex. Here it was, rearing its ugly head, in front of one of the top ten people you never wanted to see in such a shit state.

But that's all Gojo and Geto do at this point. They pick up the broken, crumbling pieces of yourself that slip between your fingers. You feel like a cracked vase leaking water all over the place no matter how desperately they try and patch up the ceramic. Each day the gap between you and them grows more apparent. They were both soaring and you were falling to the ground and rolling around in the mud. 

Geto had just done a four-page spread in Architects Digest, even though he was a pretentious motherfucker who hated the magazine. And Gojo… God, he’d just opened for Prada at Paris Fashion Week. They went viral on every social media platform a while back for how hot and gay they were. You’d been caught in the crossfire of your accounts being tagged and gained a social media boost, but that also meant a bunch of people DMing you telling you to take pictures of them. 

The most fucked up thing about it all was the gnawing feeling that chewing on your bones that you were being dragged around like an accessory to remind them how good they had it. A permanent third wheel they’ve been stuck with since university. Two talented lovers on the brink of permanent importance and their weird little friend who follows them along like a lost puppy. It wasn’t even true and that's why it hurt so much. You knew they believed in you, thought that you could be a successful artist, and supported you in it even, but the jealousy rotted inside you like a festering wound. You weren’t even jealous of their success, only just partial, but it was like you weren’t good enough to be around them. 

Maybe you were better off as wall decor in the life they were building together. Something quiet and serene that didn’t demand anything from them. Better that than the bitter, jealous mess you were every time you saw them succeed.

He starts, the same spiel he goes to when you get like this. “You can always-”

“No.” your voice comes out sharper than you intended, but you don’t care. 

“I don’t know why you act like it’s such a bad off,” Suguru presses, his calm demeanor only pissing you off more.  

“I don’t want to work for you.” 

“Why not.” 

You snap. “Because I don’t want to, Suguru! Is that so hard to understand?”

Fuck, you wanted to storm off, go back to the house, and slam the door behind you as you went. But it didn’t matter if you stormed off, you lived in one of his guest bedrooms. Both of you were just headed to the same place. Sad little rescue that you were.

Suguru assessed, his eyes softened, breaking you down. He picked out every one of your insecurities as he stared at you. Microscopic inspection, each of your cells was being assessed for your state of being. Have you eaten? Was it enough? Had you slept? Are you even capable of taking care of yourself in this state? 

The weight of his gaze made your chest tighten, and before you could control it, try and reel it back in, tears welled up in your eyes. Blinking them back, you swallowed hard, the lump in your throat bobbing as you did. You hated this. Hated the way his care, his pity, felt like a knife twisting in the last remaining shred of pride you clung to. 

Pity was the killy of pride and you should accept that your pride was already decomposing in the septic tank in the backyard. 

Fuck up, fuck up, fuck up. All you ever were, all you’d ever be. Every loose thread of your shirt feels like it's cutting against your skin. The hem of your trousers drowns your feet like you're wearing your parents' clothes. Shabby. Uncouth. Inept. 

Wordlessly, you turned on your heel and fled, rushing out of the side street as the tears spilled past your lash line. You couldn’t do this anymore--no more questions, no more pity. No matter how hard you tried, how hard you struggled, clawed your way through the fucking dirt, you could never be like them. Never be good like theme, never right like them, never fit like them. They had these perfect little lives that they could boast to everyone about. When they spoke, people listened. People cared what they had to say. The world parted for them, it was the Red Sea and they were Moses, making space. There’d always be room for them to shine. 

But you were screaming into a void, your throat raw, bloody, and you were aching from the endless effort to be seen, to be heard. You wanted to be looked at like your own person, your own successes. Hard to be noticed for something that rarely happened. No matter how loud you screamed, how much you begged, your voice was just lost in the noise. 

You knew Suguru would follow. He always did. Even if you didn’t live in the same house, he’d have followed you. His voice was muffled by the pressure in your ears but you could hear him trying to talk to you. He let you get all the way home and inside the gate of the house before he grabbed your wrist and yanked you backward. 

Trying to pull away, your shoulder wrenched painfully as you trashed in his grip. 

“Calm down,” Suguru spoke firmly, pulling you into his chest. His sweater was soft, and your face smushed against the fabric as sobs wrecked your body, trembling like the earth in an earthquake.

It was hard to speak through the tears, so all you could do was try and slip out of his hold as you sobbed. You didn’t want this comfort. You wanted to run from your failure. From how suffocating life felt and that no matter what you'd never be enough. Worse than that, the sweet sickly feeling that trickled down your throat that when he held your life this, it made the world feel just a little bit more bearable. As if somewhere you could survive another day if he kept touching you. It wasn’t yours to feel and he wasn’t yours to hold. 

Suguru lets you wiggle around. You hit his torso a few times, your strength fading as you cry. When your sobs turned to hiccups and gasps for breaths, he gently cupped your face, thumbs brushing away the tears that still spilled from your eyes. 

“Talk to me,” he said softly, barely above a whisper. The songs of a city nearly eclipsing it. 

What could you say? How could you explain this feeling? This horrible guilt, pain, and jealousy ate away at you every single day. The tears came harder now, speeding up as if to help drown you in your misery and take you out of it for good. Hiccuping you drew breath, sharp and quick, hoping to speak but nothing comes out. Words claw at your throat, digging it with sharpened points. It hurts the way they hang onto you.

“Is it all too much again?” His voice is so soft, warm like fleece pajamas fresh out of the dryer as he holds you so delicately.

This wasn’t the first time that one of the three of you had been so consumed by dread, suffocated by the weight of life itself. Suguru knew it all too well himself, from high school to know he held it tightly in his hands. It never went away from him, he just learned to live with it, let it fade into the background, and let a constant hum of despair serve as the baseline for the day-to-day. 

His thumbs brush over the apex of your cheekbones again and the tenderness shatters you, another wave of sobs tearing through you. They pull you under, out into the open ocean, and through their rip current.

“I just..” you start, it scratches your throat, thick with phlegm. “ I can’t do this anymore.” 

His voice remained steady. “Do what?” 

“Any of it. I can’t do it.” 

“You’re capable of it. You can do it.” 

Jarring, rough, whipping across your skin as the rubber band pulls too tight and snaps. You lash out, and it stings where it hits. The anger cuts through your skin like your fingernails leave crescent moons in your palms. 

“No, I fucking can’t!” It's ripped out of you as you stalk away like a wounded animal. “I can’t okay. I can’t do shit. I can’t keep a relationship without being cheated on. I can’t manage to get my own place. I can’t get a fucking job. I can’t sit here and pretend like I’m not fucking wasting away in my own misery watching you and Gojo and Shoko all succeed and be the only one of us still shooting for the stars and coming crashing down to earth every single fucking time. You and Gojo with your perfect little lives look at me like a charity case to be fixed.”

“We have never looked at you like a charity case.” His tone was firm.

“Really? Then what the fuck do you look at me like, huh?” You press the question circling back around. “Is it pity? Did the two of you see some poor stray that you wanted to take in and keep like a pet when we met at university? Is that it?” 

His eyes were hard, unreadable.

“It is that. You pity me.”

“Jesus, no! We don’t pity you- I don’t pity you! Is it so hard to believe that I care about you?”

“Yes, it is! There’s no reason for you to care,” 

“What the hell wouldn’t I care?” Suguru’s voice raised to a shout, frustration cracking his facade. 

“Because I’m just like everyone you hate!” Your chest heaves as you let out a flood of emotions. “ No ambitions, contributing nothing to society, just leeching off others.” 

“You’re not like them.” 

“I am. On paper, I’m exactly like them. The only reason that you’d keep me around is because it makes you feel good to watch me suffer or you pity me.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t pity you?” His voice cracked with emotion, but you didn’t stop.

“Then tell me why you care!” It comes out so desperately. You're begging him for understanding, to know why he stays. To know why he lets you in.

For once he looked uncertain. His mask slipped, revealing the cracks in his facade. It’s been so long since you’ve seen underneath it you’d almost forgotten how he looked when he wasn’t pretending to be happy. 

“Or is it that you don’t care?” 

Something flashed in his eyes, flickerings of things you only saw when he looked at Gojo. He opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. There's a fear in his eyes, like if he acts in this moment something may crack and crumble like the foundation of a house that leaves him crumpled in a pile of wood. He doesn’t, or won’t, give you an answer. 

So you turn on your heel, the conversation over in your mind, and head to the front door. You’ll go up and pack a bag before heading across town and crashing on Shoko and Utahime’s couch before calling your parents and groveling to them. 

But as you reach the door, Suguru reaches you. His arm wraps around your waist and he spins you around and pushes your back against it. He’s got you pinned. 

“It’s because I love you.” It’s the faintest breeze that passes from his lips, like a car driving past on a hot day, sweat making your shirt stick to you. “I care because I love you.”

Everything is frozen in a still frame. Neither one of you moves, neither one of you breathes. A still moment that holds you tight, threatens to squeeze you so tightly your heart bursts. 

“What do you mean by that?” You swallow as you speak, like pebbles in your throat. 

Suguru blinks back tears, looking up and then back at you. “That I love you. Fuck! I’m in love with you.” 

Disbelief makes your voice shake. “No, you’re not not. You’re with Satoru.” 

“And? I can’t love both of you?” 

“No, you can’t,” Hypocrisy tastes acrid on your tongue. You know damn well you could never pick between the two of them, that this blighted jealousy you feel towards them is more the fact they have the other rather than their success. It’s something you don’t admit but it’s there. “Besides, you’re lying to me.”

“No.” His response was firm and immediate. The whole time you’d known them, their worlds had revolved around each other. They’d been the only thing for each other for so long. It was an unspoken truth that they were made for each other in a way that could only be sewn by the fabric of the universe itself. Something so profoundly and divinely created it had been written in the fabric of life at the moment of the Big Bang. 

“I’ve seen you watching.” Suguru’s tone is low, cutting, it vibrates through you as he has you pinned. 

A sick, icy dread wraps around your spine. It starts in your toes and crawls up your body. Your muscles lock in place as it climbs up until it's all the way in your head. Paralyzing fear grips you.

“I don't…” The lie is transparent before it comes to fruition. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It’s brittle, cracking on your teeth as it passes through them.

“Don’t play innocent.” Suguru’s voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. The tension between you tightens and winds up to pitch, but there's a current that punctuates it. One that feels heady and warm. One that excites you in the same way it embarrasses you. “I’ve seen you watching. I’ve seen you for years. The first time, maybe it was a mistake. But last week? Three weeks before that?”

Your mouth went dry, choking on the excuse that tried to bubble up. Like finely ground chalk powder coasted every surface of it. “I—”

He cuts you off before you can even try to defend yourself. “I know you get off on it too. Leave your curtains open while you touch yourself. Saying his name, my name.”

Horror twists inside you like a knife, your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach. You’d always been so careful, never acting when you thought they were home. Never want to risk exactly this happening. Your face burned like you drank half a liter of vodka in a go. Maybe you’d wake up and realize this was a nightmare. The humiliation was unbearable. 

“Imagine my surprise,” Suguru continues in a low chuckle, left hand slotting perfectly against your waist, “when I came home early one day and saw that.” 

The tears that had stopped in your flash of anger spill hot and fast down your cheeks. The raw, hot shame and embarrassment muddle you. It makes you want a sinkhole to open up beneath you and swallow you whole. You can’t meet his gaze, your vision blurry. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll move out.” you stammer out, the words falling in a chopping spiccato, desperate to create space between the two of you. You’d never be able to face him again. 

“Who said anything about moving out?” Suguru comes, pulling you closer to him till you're flush against his chest. He bends down, breath tickling your ear. You feel the sharp pressure of his teeth grazing the shell of it, a jolt going through your body. “You don’t get to leave now.” Pulling back, he meets your eyes in a half-lidded gaze. 

Both of you are playing the game again. Looking for something unspoken, some cryptic clue you need to decipher. He was searching for discomfort, disgust, anything to make him draw back and stop. You searched for understanding, dissecting how it got to this point. Every moment, every glance, every touch from him that you had ever overlooked. 

He always held a soft glint in his eyes when he looked at you. Something subtle, normally reserved for Satoru. It warmed the edge of his voice when he spoke and crinkled the corners of his eyes when he smiled. There was that softness for Shoko, but it was different. The one he had for you was a more reserved, pulled-back, and dialled-down version of what gripped him when he looked at Satoru. He had always viewed you this way.

The times you sat sandwiched between him and Gojo, your legs brushing against him, his arm slung around your shoulders to reach Satoru. Pulling you against him on the train, in clubs, at parties, the bump of your hips against his own. Compliments when you wore flattering, his pushing Satoru to dress you up. He liked it best when you were in shorter dresses and skirts with tights. 

Suguru had always wanted you, but you had failed to notice. 

Instinct took over before reason could temper it. You pushed off the door, your hands flying to the loose part of his hair at the nape of his neck. The strands feelt just as silky an shiny as they look between your fingers. Without hesitation, the space between you two diminishes. You aren’t sure who closes the distance first, but your lips lock hungry. Teeth knocking against each other as you both desperately cling to the other. It's rough and aggressive, both of you starved animals feasting on flesh. The taste of copper spreading in your mouth as he bit down on your lip making you whine. His breathing becomes your own, heady mix of desire and dark, primal urge..

His tongue pushes against yours, taking advantage of your now open mouth, wet and warm brushing against the back of your teeth, laying claim to your mouth. Geto was dominating in all aspects of his life so it was unsurprising that he set the pace and led you to where he wanted to be. He moved your legs up, patting your ass to jump, to then wrap around his waist as he pressed you against the door. You grind your hips against his growing erection as he holds you there, and you can feel the heat of him even through his pants.

Suguru pulls away panting. His eyes are half closed, lips blushed a beautiful red and damp with saliva. He moves in again, this time to your neck, where he bites down hard. You squirm as he sucks a dark and angry mark, his mark, on your skin. The bite of his teeth against your skin feels right. It eats away at the jealous monster inside you every second he’s latched onto you.

Fed up with the door, Suguru opens it and carries you through the threshold. He moves the two of you through the genkan, toeing off his shoes while you kick your own off, and into the living room where he drops you on the couch. There’s an air about him, so intense it’s nearly oppressive, as his fingers inch up underneath your sweater, sliding it off of you. It’s a predator circling their prey, the success of a hunt now that he’s got you on your back against the soft fabric of the couch. He’d been waiting for this far longer than you thought and it spurs you on.

Suguru moves in tandem with you, tugging off his sweater and button-up shirt, exposing his happy trail. The dark dusting of hair makes your mouth water. Once his shirt is off, his hands cover your chest through your bra, palming your tits like stress balls. It's unpadded and lacey, and it lets him feel as if your nipples get hard. He pushes the cups down, leaving them to rest under your breasts, and pushes them up slightly, accentuated by your being on your back.

His fingertips close around your nipples as he pinches and pulls at them. You knew how much of a sadist he could be. One night you watched him edge Satoru for an hour straight. Seen how hot he looked with Gojo in his mouth as he writhed around. A sweet moan escaped you as he played with your nipples and rolled his hips against yours. It makes your head feel fuzzy, thoughts focusing purely on him. His weight presses down on you, so heavy and right it makes you ache.

You lunge forward, propping yourself up on your elbows to kiss him again. It’s just as messy and hungry as before, years of built-up desire between the two of you saturating your every pore. It settles in your bones that pulses in time with your heart. 

Suguru doesn’t separate from you, but he slides your trousers and underwear off in one go as you kick your socks off. He tugs his own off hastily, boxer briefs following in turn. His public hair is trimmed, a close crop like you’ve seen it before. Like every other aspect of him, it’s neatly maintained, put into its place, and kept there. 

His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he pulls your hips up by his head. Your back is half off the sofa as he places your legs over his shoulders and parts your core with his fingers. He blows cold air onto your clit that makes you squirm before he licks your clit. Moaning, you try to grind yourself against his face but his hands tighten on your hips, holding them firm. You’d get what he wanted to give you. Fight against it and get nothing, or accept it. 

He was slow to start. His tongue lazily explores you, getting familiar with your taste. It pushed against your clit, wide and flat, before swirling his tongue around it. The ball of his tongue piercing rubbed against the most sensitive part of you. Your hips jerk forward and he looks up, a warning in his eyes, but he doesn’t stop. Suguru curls his tongue again, this time moving it side to side, letting his piercing catch on your clit purposefully.  Every action he takes is measured as he picks up speed while latching his lips around it to add delicious suction. Two of his fingers slide inside you, reaching far deeper than your own ever could. He pumps them in and out of you, driving you closer to the edge.

You felt your pussy drooling, liquid gushing out and covering his chin. The muscles in your abdomen tightened with each passing second until you swore they'd cramp. It was all too much as you came, jerking and contracting in on yourself. Black spots dot your vision as your world shakes on this axis. 

Sugru watched as you came, pulling back from your pussy to stare at your face. His eyes never left yours as he rubbed soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. He could cover nearly all of you with how big his hands were, warm and calloused. Minus a cold spot on his left hand. 

His engagement ring. 

The silver felt like it burned your skin as he smiled at you and planted a kiss on your inner thigh. It glimmers in the low light, bouncing light off like a homing beacon. Bubbling sickness, bile rising in your throat, disgust palming at your skin. What had you just done? You’ve just violated a boundary so gigantic with Suguru. Let your own selfish need for intimacy lead you to this. He was engaged to your best friend. They were getting married next year.

You rushed to grab your clothes, panic surging through you. The world spins around you. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“We shouldn’t have done that,” you buttoned up your trousers, throwing your sweater on. Your hair is a mess and your skin feels clammy and flushed. The need to vomit is overwhelming. “This was a mistake.”

Suguru’s rising from the couch, trying to grab you, stopping you from moving but you dodge his hand. “A mistake?” 

Your left hand meets your mouth as you bite the nail of your thumb. It clicks against your front teeth. 

“Satoru won’t mind-” 

“A mistake Suguru,” You shake your head, bending down and grabbing the rest of your stuff. “Please. Just forget this.” Without waiting for his reply, you run up the stairs and slam the door behind you. 

You really are a bitch.

©️ uzuzrimisery

[fordpinesthemanyouare]

Ford x Fem!Reader

Math Assistant Pt.1

Summary: Ford needs himself an assistant, Stanley makes an online post for him and BOOM there you are, coming to meet him for an interview at the diner.

Warnings: Erm... this is a nothing sandwich I THINK. Please let me know if I should add something

A/N: My brothers in christ please this is my first fic that I wrote on a whim, I had an idea and I started writing. I have never written fan ficiton in my life so pls be nice... also who up wit dey werm to Stanford Pines HOOBA HOOBA!!!!! Okay also I want to write SMUT for this so imagine this is like the really really really long winded plot to the porno. K thanks bye read if u want or dont i dont control you.

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Ford shook his head at Stanley who was seated in front of a new computer now placed in the living room, “I’m still confused on why we should be posting the ad listing “online” rather than the local paper, or putting up flyers around town.” Ford used air quotes for emphasis, he still found the whole idea strange, he liked the computer for being a tool he could use to further research. He didn't like it so much as a vessel for finding candidates for a job he was offering, the thought that he had no idea who was communicating with him unsettled him a bit. Especially knowing the kind of work he was going to be having this future assistant… well assist with.

“Because yer never going to find someone with the qualifications yer asking for in this town” Stan looked over his shoulder at a crossed arm Ford. “Hiring someone for a summer job who has a PhD in Application Math, whatever that means-“

“Applied Mathematics, Stanley” Ford interrupted.

“Whatever it is you're not going to find that here, you and fiddleford are probably the only people in this town to actually have a college degree” he said with a chuckle, turning back to the computer. He was clicking around on some website that Ford had never heard of, let alone just recently finding out what the internet was. “I'm setting up a job listing on some of the local college websites, ya know for people that are studying or just done studying”. The clicking of the mouse and the typing of keys continued as Ford ran the motion through his head, overthinking perhaps every outcome of Stanley posting that job listing. Ultimately though Ford knew he was right in that, no one with at least a degree in Applied Mathematics was going to be residing nearby.

“Just please be careful about the information you include in this job posting, try to keep it minimal as possible. If they ask more questions about specifics you can let them know that I can explain in person.”

Stan looked over his shoulder, his eyebrows slightly downturned with a smirk rising on his face, “I didn’t realize you had hired me to be your assistant, you're going to have to cough up if you want me to do this for you”. Ford groaned in annoyance of his brother, “Stanley you know I don’t know how to use any of that”.

“Exactly why you're going to want to have me help you out with this”, Stanley moved his arm to drape across the back of the chair he was in, looking more directly at him. “That’ll be twenty dollars”, he held out his hand expectantly at his twin. A beat of silence passed between the two as they had a small staring contest, both men’s brows furrowed at the other.

Ford finally reached for his back pocket after he felt he had glared at his brother enough, he slipped a twenty dollar bill from the leather wallet and practically slammed it in his hand before walking in the opposite direction without a word. While Stan on the other hand, was more than beaming when he saw Ford’s hand fall to his back pocket, Stan half shouted as Ford strode out of the room.

“You’ll thank me later when I find the perfect candidate!” He laughed as he said it and returned to more clicking and typing around the website.

Ford returned to the lab to finish up some things before the kids were scheduled to get there later in the month. When they returned from the long months at the ocean, Ford wanted nothing more than to work on something in his lab again. He loved feeling the anticipation of a project becoming something, but of course he knew he could easily get carried away. After Dipper and Mabel left last summer, before Stanley and him were going to head out, he had made a major discovery while working in the lab. He had discovered an atom that was capable of recreating a direct clone of itself and in as many atoms he could count. He continued to work on the project until Stanley was practically dragging him from the house to leave to sail around the world.

While sailing towards one of their final destinations at the end of the trip, Ford finally opened up to Stanley about his worries of falling into the same pits as before. He was worried that he would become too involved, as he already felt himself doing as they were leaving for their trip. He also desperately needed some alone time from Stanley, but he didn’t mention that to him while they were on the boat.

“What if you hired someone to help you with the project?” Stan had offered a possible solution, while he had sat in the boat looking at Ford who was deep in thought over his dilemma. “I mean obviously the last time that happened, it wasn’t great either…” He trailed off after the look on Ford’s face became apparent, regretting the thought of his old college friend.

“I know the last time wasn’t great” Stanley pushed forward, “but maybe if you have someone hired to help with the smaller stuff. Things like using the calculator or something, whatever the small stuff even is to you” he said the last part under a fake cough which earned him a glare from his brother. However, the idea wasn't… terrible, Ford thought. He pondered over the possibilities of having someone helping him out, along with having the two kids upstairs to bother him. If he were to have someone who he didn't have to know that well take on most of the minor details, the equations and such, he would be able to prioritize the best parts of the project while also having time for his family. At least, that’s what he had hoped for when Stanley initially offered the idea.

“That could be a good idea…” Ford said after taking several moments to ponder the possibilities. “I would need someone who could do advanced mathematical equations, with room for equations that could possibly extend what they know…”. Stanley just looked at him deep in thought, wondering how there could be that many things to think about, the answer seemed clear to him.

Back in the lab, Ford could hear Stanley groaning loudly about some ‘unknown error message’. He continued to monitor and take note of the atoms under his advanced microscope for a while, waiting until Stanley had further news of any postings. He wondered what his new assistant would be like, if they could have the same passion for knowledge and understanding as he does.

———

A few days had passed, Ford falling into old habits quickly, holing himself up in the lab for hours upon hours. The only time he was seen over the last 48 hours was to grab more coffee from the kitchen, he caught naps in between work, falling asleep over his piles of scrap paper filled with numbers and letters. Ford had not anticipated how much mathematical reasoning was going to follow the atom cloning discovery, he was falling behind on moving forward with more discoveries on the atoms, but over hundreds of miniscule details that needed solving kept him at the desk. Stan walked down on the 49th hour of Ford’s lock down in the basement, opening the door noisily and making as much noise as possible on the way down to let him know he was on the way. Ford was scribbling away on the nth page of scrap work, crossing out failed attempts of solving equations as Stan broached the lab floor.

Stan awkwardly cleared his throat at Ford when he didn’t turn around, even though Stanley was sure to have made enough noise on the way down. Ford turned his head over his shoulder, his body seeming to not want to move from the space it had cramped into. He raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner, as if asking ‘What? Im busy’. Stan gave a huff of annoyance before starting,

“I have about 3 applications that I thought were worth looking over, most of the idiots who applied didn’t even have math degrees. All they see in the listing is free housing and they flock like birds trying to claw their way in” he said with a slight chuckle. He strided over to Ford’s desk, as Ford leaned back finally interested in what Stan was saying. He took the papers from Stanley and began to look over them. He began thumbing through the few resumes, looking over each one carefully noting that all three people had at least some qualifications in mathematics. He looked up to Stan and gave him a tight smile.

“I appreciate you getting these for me, I’ll reach out to the ones I feel are qualified.” A beat passed between them, Ford paused for a second wondering if he should just return to work at this point or if Stanley had something else since he hasn't made any move to leave.

“I think the one on the bottom will be the best fit.” Stan said with a certain look in his face that Ford couldn’t place, as he turned to leave. Ford looked at him as he walked towards the stairs with a questioning look on his face, wondering what could have led his brother to place a preference on one of these resumes even though he didn't know what applied mathematics was. As Stan trudged up the stairs Ford called to his brother,

“I'll be sure to look at that one, thank you Stanley.” Which made Stanley pause and turn to look at Ford, a distant smile on his face as he nodded and continued up the stairs. Ford turned back to his desk and pulled the resume on the bottom up to the top, the header in nice bold letters a fine print used, he noted.

Y/N YL/N

He also took note that this was the only two-page resume offered to him, with the education list taking up most of the room. Several universities/schools were listed and his eyes read over the names and degrees that followed. He read all the way to the bottom where it listed your highschool with graduation dated in 1999. He noted this person was in their early 30’s with several bachelors degrees in several sciences, two master’s degrees in statistics and biology, and of course a Ph.D in applied mathematics. The latest graduation listed was University of Oregon masters program in statistics for April, which he noted it was now early May noting it would be fresh on the mind. He moved your resume to the back of the small stack, looking over the first two he skipped over, and honestly he wished he saved yours for last. The first two were jokes compared to the advanced knowledge you listed, he set the first aside after noting that the education list was no longer than a paragraph, and the second resume didn’t take long to set aside either as his eyes raked in the many spelling errors.

He read over your resume again looking for a way to contact you to set up the interview. He noted the phone number and email in the corner of the first page, and made to move upstairs to the kitchen phone. As he stood up however, his muscles almost molded into place from sitting at the desk, stopped him from moving further. He groaned as he began to stretch himself out, thinking about how he couldnt wait to stop looking at math problems for hours on end.

Heading back upstairs he reached the phone and quickly gazed at the microwave clock, 3:49 pm. He was glad it wasn’t later than five, as he picked up the corded receiver and began to punch in the numbers. The phone rang a few times before your voice fluttered over the phone, “Hello?”. Ford cleared his throat awkwardly, “Hello! Yes, is this Y/N YL/N? Oh it is, great, this is Stanford Pines calling about a job posting for the assistant position. I was hoping to set up an interview to discuss further details of the position.”

“I was just wondering if I would hear back from this offer,” the light voice on the other end laughed a pleasant laugh a little before continuing, “I’d love to join you for an interview regarding the position, I’m free anytime, anywhere this coming week and the next.”.

Ford offered a time for tomorrow at the local diner, which he provided the address to. The voice on the phone wished Ford a great rest of his night and that they would see him tomorrow. Ford wished them the normal pleasantries he hated to conduct while making mundane phone calls such as these. He was slightly relieved to find you weren’t completely strange, at least right off the bat. When he hung the phone back on the hanger, Stan suddenly spoke, causing Ford to jump from the lack of warning.

“So did you end up going with the one I said?” Stan looked smug as Ford met his gaze, knowing damn well he scared Ford on purpose. Ford rolled his eyes after he settled after the slight scare,

“Unsurprisingly, as you could probably assume. You shouldn’t have even bothered with the other two. One only had a few community college classes under their belt.” Ford turned to make more coffee, he figured he would stretch his legs now as he was planning on working on some more equations before the meeting tomorrow. Stan gave a hearty laugh, “She’s also quite the looker, surprised me when I was pulling resumes”. Ford gave his brother a look as he asked, “Can’t you make your picture anything you want online?”. He remembers when they got the computer last time the kids were here, Dipper had shown him how he had his profile for online DD&MD. He absolutely didn’t understand it, but Dipper assured him this summer he would teach him. Which would benefit him from not having to pay Stanley anytime he needed something done the modern way (this was not often).

“Yeah but this was on a college website, everyone has their picture I think. It looks all like student ID’s… Oh don’t look at me like that! I looked at all of their profile pictures. She just happened to have the best looking picture.” Stan finished with a shrug and a laugh. Ford had looked at him like he was crazy for looking through all the people who applied profile pictures before feeling the need to ask, “You did give me recommendations on experience, not looks correct?”.

Stan shook his head, “I know you would kill me if I passed on a math nerd over an actual good looking girl” he laughed, turning “I'm going to head out gotta meet some people, don’t wait up for me.” Stan said as he was walking out the door, grabbing the keys as he slammed the door. Ford shook his head and decided to take his brother's word for it, his mind replaying what his twin mentioned, “quite the looker” as if that could have any effect on anything. Ford thought he didn't care much at all for how a person appeared as long as they could solve these problems that's all that mattered, and maybe that they were decently pleasant to work with. He couldnt help but reflect back to the phone call, your light and airy voice filling his ear with pleasant sound, at least you didnt have a horrible voice and he could probably get used to hearing that voice more often, he thought. Ford filled his cup with coffee and headed back downstairs not giving the interview tomorrow much more thought than your voice on the phone.

—————

A/N: Yay I did it!!! yeah so what if its a nothing sandwich?? Didnt i literally say that before hand.. hope you enjoyed if ya read! <3

[staytinyville]

Stay Alive (1)

BTS ot7 x Reader

Magical Creatures AU

Series Masterlist

Warnings: None

A/N I am very excited for this story! It has a good amount of world building that I enjoy doing so much! I took inspiration from Stay Alive by Jungkook/Suga in case you guys didn’t know! The beginnings are of course slow but that’s how most stories are to build up the tension. I hopeful for this story and I hope you all like it! Please feel free to ask if you want to be added to the taglist!

People walk among the same earth constantly. However the thing that sets us apart is the path we all take. Sometimes it's the same, other times it's the opposite. Some of us are meant for higher things while some are meant to suffer until things start to look up for us all. 

In a lifetime sometimes we won’t ever get the chance to see ourselves reach the peak we want. There are struggles we all face that will cause setbacks in the path we are taking. Only the ones who are strong enough to see the road to the end make it out alive. 

There will always be those out there who will achieve their goals in life some way or another. Those are the ones who don’t allow those setbacks to dictate their entire life. And maybe along the way someone will come along to help you grow stronger. Whether it’s one person or a whole group. You will see to the end of your path one way or another. 

“Most often than not you will be working on filing. If we are understaffed on a day, like today, we might send you in to write reports on the medicine we have already administered.” Suho, the lady who was placed as your preceptor, explained to you.

You had a grateful smile on your face, happy to finally get to start working. While it wasn’t the place you had been hoping for, you knew the pay was well for the kind of student debts you had. The pharmaceutical lab was meant to administer different kinds of medicines to the people who would sign up for a trial. They did the test on patients before they were given out to people. 

While you were being placed on the front desk for the most part, you knew you would need to work your way up to the spot you wanted and you were more than happy to reach for it. 

“What kind of medicine do you guys make?” You asked, trying to think about all that you had read on the company's website. 

It didn’t really give much about what they focus on so you found it really odd that they were so wide when it came to the things they were trying to cure. 

“You applied here and don't even know?” Suho frowned, looking at you appalled.

“I tried asking at the interview but they just gave me vague answers.” You explained. “The website doesn't tell you anything either.”

“We are very on top of the things we do here at HYBE.” She began to tell you. “There aren’t many people we trust to be hired onto the team so consider yourself lucky to be apart of it.”

“We make sure that our patients here are taken care of because we are a company that is trying hard to reach their goals. Because of that we are detail oriented when it comes to the patients we accept. Not just anyone can be a patient here.” 

While she did a bit more about the kind of company you were working at, it still didn’t really tell you about what it was you were working for. You didn’t choose to question it, knowing that the paycheck they gave you was a luxury for a lot of people. 

“Here are some of your patients for the day. They have already been given the medicine, it's up to you to check up on them for daily research.” You took the six files the lady handed you, nodding your head. 

You placed them onto the small desk area they had given you before going through them to check on the appointment times and ordering them correctly. The first one on your list should be waiting in the lobby by now so you were quick to take the papers and move along to the waiting room.

“Mrs. Han?” You called, a smile on your face. 

An older woman with a younger one came to a stand, slowly shuffling over to where you waited for them at the door. 

“Hello, Mrs. Han. How are you today?” You asked politely, leading the two women towards the scale. 

“I'm doing great! I'm so excited to share some news about the medicine you gave me.” The older woman exclaimed, a bright smile on her face. 

You hummed, keeping the friendly look as you wrote down her weight on the paper. You told them to follow you to a patient room to speak to her privately. 

“I see it was something for your dementia.” You spoke, moving the laptop in the room closer so you could take down everything the lady would tell you. “Is everything going okay?”

“It's wonderful!” The other lady exclaimed for her mother. At least you assumed it was her daughter from the notes that people already had written for you. Her daughter was the one who was in charge of all Mrs. Han’s things.

“You would not believe it but it's almost as though she's regressed in her illness! Mother was in a terrible state when she was offered this trial medicine. She took it and suddenly it was almost like she went back to before it grew to be terrible.”

You tried to write down what the woman was saying, but you knew there were more questions to ask before concluding the entire meeting. 

“Maybe she can get back to normal if she takes more.” The daughter spoke in a hopeful tone. 

“One step at a time, Mrs. Byun.” You kept the smile on your face so as to not let them think they weren’t going to find the help they needed. “We have to see how long this medicine will last first before giving her more doses.” You explained.

“Also, memory loss is nothing to be overly worried about if it's on occasion. Even I forget something's as well.” You told them. 

If there was one thing you studied, it was medicine. You knew the consequences of taking too much or too little. This company was in the slow movement of developing them so they had to be careful about how they administered their projects. People probably came in thinking they could get more if they worked perfectly the first time. However these kinds of things were tests, not the real deal.

“Of course.” Mrs. Byun nodded in understanding. 

The rest of the visit went by smoothly as you took down all the older woman’s rants and aches about the whole thing. With these kinds of surveys it was really about asking how each patient felt even if it was the smallest of things. You wouldn’t be able to tell if it had to do with the medicine or with something else.

As you told Mrs. Han and her daughter goodbye, scheduling the next appointment, the rest of you patient trickled in one-by-one. 

There was a man who had come in for a bad liver–he was an avid drinker–so the medicine was for corrosion to that organ. While you really tried not to say something about it, you felt annoyed that the man had explained that he still had a drink every once in a while. He was like Mrs. Han, the medicine was doing wonders. 

There was a child who had chickenpox, who’s mother explained that the rash that had taken over her son’s body was slowly dwindling down. Another lady who had come in for amnesia which only said that her memory was returning to before she had gotten into an accident. The others had external injuries like scrapes of their knees or a deep cut that needed stitches. From what you could see they were just given some sort of pain medication. They had expressed that their wounds didn’t hurt and it was actually healing at a fast rate. 

“They really work with a lot of medicine.” You spoke to yourself as you looked over the last file you had. You frowned your eyebrows when you saw the patient was in another level of the building. It was the lower levels, which meant in the basement of sorts. From what you knew that was where the labs were. 

“That's odd.” You tilted your head in confusion but made your way over to the elevators anyway. With your ID card, you pressed onto one of the underground levels, leaning back against the metal wall. When the doors opened, you were met with a lobby that had a couple of different doctors moving about. 

Following the signs, you found the door that led to some of the rooms patients were stationed in. You showed the security guard your ID explaining you were in that level of the building to check up on a patient. He took a look at the file you had in your hand, humming as he opened a door to the back for you. 

Overlooking the file once more to make sure you had the right number, you quietly counted the doors. As you passed by one, you felt a shiver go down your back causing you to halt in your tracks. The number three stared back at you as a weird feeling flowed over your shoulders. It felt like something was brushing up against them, pushing at your form. 

You quickly turned back around making your way to the room next to it. You checked over the file one more time. It didn’t really give you much about the medicine the patient had been given. All it said was that they were someone who was meant to be staying in the building for better observation. There were a couple of papers that you seemed to be missing, you noticed.

Before opening the door, you knocked politely. “Hello?” You softly called as you stuck your head in. 

The only light on was the bedside lamp which illuminated the dark room. You frowned at the aspect of there being no windows that would allow light from outside to come in. As you walked in closer, you let go of the door to have it shut by itself. “Mr. Jeon?”

“Who are you?” You gasped, nearly tripping on your feet from the hard flinch you felt take over. 

You took in the man who was standing behind you, trying to regulate your breathing. He only looked at you with a raised brow, his expression passive. You took up his large form, noticing the blue scrubs he wore were almost tight around his physic. He didn’t wear any shoes–was even foregoing to wear socks. 

“Oh,” You said as your breath returned to your lungs. “My name is (Y/N). Today is my first day so I guess I'll be your new nurse.” You explained to him.

“What are you doing here?” As he took a step closer to you, you subconsciously took one back. “You don't deserve to be here.” His voice went quiet as his eyes turned soft. 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in his worried expression, smiling awkwardly as you patted your hands to wipe the sweat forming on them. 

“I needed a job. Got school debt to pay off.” You tried to joke with him. He looked too serious, which made you anxious to touch him for his vitals. “I'm here to do a check up. Would you mind?” You asked, trying to build up the courage to get close to him. 

He didn’t say anything, just poked his cheek with his tongue, moving to the bed. You smiled in thanks, looking around the room to find the equipment needed. You purse your lips when you realize you would need to check his heart rate manually. Finding the padding needed to place around his arm, you made your way over to the man.

He flinched back as your hands moved to touch his arm, causing you to stop. “I’m going to check your heart rate.” You explained, remembering that you were the kind of person to make sure people knew what it was you were going to do. 

As he kept his dark eyes on you, he allowed you to softly touch his scrub sleeve as you moved the fabric up to place the padding in the right area of the arm. You moved your stethoscope from around your neck. “It’s going to be a bit cold.” You whispered. 

As you moved on with the check up, you watched the numbers on the dial move carefully counting to yourself. When you finished getting what you needed, you quickly let go of the air and moved the padding off his arm. As you did that, your eyes seemed to blur over the ink the man had. 

Your fingers gently squeezed his bicep, softly moving down the length of his arm. Your gaze drifted over each color and picture the man had, trying to figure out where one picture ended and the next started. As your fingers glided over his pulse on his wrists, the man involuntarily shivered at the touch. 

“Sorry.” You quickly pulled back, looking back up at him. “Your tattoos are really nice. I've never seen so many.” You bashfully smiled at him. 

He only looked at you curiously, his big eyes taking in your facial expressions. It made you feel flustered as he looked at you so deeply, causing you to lick your lips and look away. 

“You have a very strong heart. Very good blood flow.” You told him, turning away to write down his vitals. He slowly got off the bed and moved closer to you. 

“It doesn't say which medicine you've been taking which is really weird.” You frowned, looking over all the papers that you were given. There were some things missing but you assumed the high ups were looking over it. 

“You're different.” You jumped at the voice that spoke directly behind you. Turning around you tilted your head up at the man.

“How so?” You asked.

“You're nice.” The boy squinted his eyes at you, like he was trying to figure you out.

“Are the others not?” You frowned.

“Not the ones who come down here.” He told you.

You tried to quickly cover up your upset expression, looking up at the doe-eyed man with a smile. “Well I hope I'm able to come down here again.” You took up the paper you had written on. There wasn’t much explanation on what you had to ask him so you chose to go back up and see if you could figure out what else to do.

“Have a good day, Mr. Jeon.” You smiled brightly, waving from the door.

Jungkook tilted his head to the side as a warmth spread through his chest from your words. Not a day had gone by that he wasn't thinking about the dreaded place as though it was a sentence in hell. He had never met someone like you; someone who spoke to him as though he too was a person.

It made him light headed to think about the way your words affected him. He couldn't think of the last time someone had ever uttered those kinds of words to him. It had been so long-alone thinking this was what life was going to be like for the rest of his life. But suddenly things changed in the blink of an eye.

“Maybe.”

Series Masterlist

[genericpuff]

I've watched both (this is a hazbin hotel ask btw) but tend to keep my eyes closed to merch sales (and such forth) unless it can pierce my five degrees of separation

also gotta admit that I've been not keeping up with HB since... honestly the since the season end. yeah I'm behind.

What do you mean they're waiting for what's functionally pamphlets? It's taking MONTHS for a pamphlet?

That's funny in the bad way 😭

yeah so from MY UNDERSTANDING (i.e. correct me if I'm wrong) the playbill was part of some exclusive package deal where buyers would receive some keychains, trading cards, and a playbill which was supposedly going to be filled with exclusive interviews/quotes/background information/etc. about the show's production. That playbill was exclusive to the pre-orders, meaning if you didn't pre-order this merch package, presumably you could still purchase the merch package on its own (or possibly its parts separately on the merch site like the keychains n junk) but the playbill would ONLY be sent to those who pre-ordered.

The pre-orders started around a year or so ago, but then roughly 9 months ago when the bundles started to show up, people reported that the playbill - literally the centerpiece of the marketing - was missing.

Since then, the playbills still haven't arrived, but customers have gotten TWO separate emails written from the "characters" of Hazbin Hotel updating them on the situation. Yes, you read that right, the emails meant to update people on the part of their pre-order package that was still missing - a package that cost them $76 and again, the playbill was exclusive to - were written in-character like a roleplay post in a message board forum.

And for some reason, the A24 staff decided that Husk would be the best character to deliver the bad news, a character who is, like many characters in Hazbin, just an asshole.

It's wild that this even got approved as an official email from the A24 team because let's face it - if you had spent $76 with the good faith expectation that you were gonna get everything you were promised in return for that $76 is this really the response you'd want to get? I'm not exactly sure when this email was sent out but according to some of the people reporting on it via Twitter, it was around the end of January (so the end of the month that folks were expecting it to roll in). Not a great way to tell people that the product they're waiting on - and didn't expect to be missing in the first place - was delayed.

Months later, a second email rolled out, and A24 sort of learned their lesson, not by actually addressing their customers as human beings, but this time as Charlie, who is at least not a complete dickhead.

It still doesn't really answer any questions though because it's putting the responsibility on fictional characters to explain what's going on. So of course everything is masked behind the "teehee, Alastor did a naughty and Niffty got stuck in the printing press machine!" roleplaying talk which literally does not actually tell anyone what's really going on, just gives them a vague impression based on what they chose to make a fictional character say.

Sure, it's nicer than Husk, but it's still disingenuous and frankly just cringe esp when this is concerning the interests of paying customers.

I don't know if this is Vivzie's doing or someone else on the A24 team, but it really feels like they're trying to operate the same way HH would have operated back when it was just a Youtube series... but it's not a small-time Youtube production anymore, it's a full on Amazon show with hired employees and a customer base that expects the thing they paid for to actually show up. So at best this is just really immature mishandling of a situation that should be taken at least relatively seriously.

And really, out of all the things to delay... the playbills? Really? For anyone who's not familiar with what a playbill is, it's literally just a booklet. Professional, "Playbill" branded playbills that you see in legitimate theatre productions are (if I recall correctly) anywhere from 30-60 pages, but a lot of those pages are often dedicated to ad space of other productions and companies, with maybe only 10-15 pages dedicated to the actual production. People love collecting them though because you typically only receive them when you go to see a play itself, so it can be a great souvenir from limited run productions.

It's kinda like comic collecting for theatre-goers, they can serve as memorabilia or as "proof" that you were there to attend a specific show. Though playbills don't tend to accrue as much value as much as comics can, they can still have a lot of sentimental value.

Hazbin Hotel isn't a play though. It's a streaming show available on Amazon Prime that anyone can watch anywhere in the world. It doesn't exactly have the need for something like a playbill, because the exclusivity is simply tied to how much extra money you're willing to give them for the pre-order, not to any sort of unique in-person experience of going to the theatre and watching the show live with your own eyes.

Granted, Hazbin Hotel does obviously take heavy inspiration from theatre culture as it is itself a musical, so I can understand the novelty and appeal of creating a unique playbill for it. I just don't really understand why that's the item that got delayed when a booklet containing exclusive info should be one of the easiest things to make, especially when it comes to production costs (printing a bunch of playbills shouldn't be anywhere near as expensive as producing keychains and trading cards).

But there was an update on reddit about this a couple weeks ago and it seemingly contradicts what A24 - sorry, 'Charlie', sigh - said months ago that they were working hard on specifically printing and packaging the playbill orders-

FINALLY the HH fandom gets a real human being from A24 responding, but they're saying that the designs are still being worked on??? So this means they haven't even started printing the things yet?? So that's an entirely DIFFERENT issue that hasn't been addressed up until this point.

So yeah, again, I don't have any stakes in this and it's definitely not something that I'm like, putting a lot of emotional investment into, but it has still been fascinating to check in on every now and then. Big condolences to the HH fans who paid $76+ for this package and are still waiting for the MAIN CENTERPIECE to show up - if you're one of those fans and are now reading this, you're probably gonna be waiting a little while longer because apparently they haven't even designed them yet 💀😆

[chaifootsteps]

i saw an interview this morning where valentinos voice actor is asked about his characters relationship to the other vees and he briefly explains that vox and val in this weird gay relationship where they make out and do stuff but then straight up says "uhhhh i dont know what valentinos relationship is with velvet lol!"

the bar is in hell for women characters (pun intended) because a velvet USED to have a relationship with vox and val during the instagram days. i like that she was more like a daughter to him and that they bonded over violence! shit like that was what actually made valentino feel like a complex character who can be good and bad. because i literally cannot think of a single relationship hes on good terms with. voxvals whole appeal is that theyre toxic gay bitches! so having just ONE good relationship in his life, even if its just with his weird 30 year old coworker daughter, could actually make him feel like a person with layers like valentino fans desperately insist he is in the show.

since rn velvet just kind of. exists! she barely speaks to the other vees, doesn't seem to enjoy spending time with them unless she can film them dancing and making out, shes mostly frowning in the finale whenever vox opens his mouth, and never directly even speaks to val. why would val not speak to someone he lives (i think) and considers his equal?

like she very much has the ability to become a compelling fun character/villian when shes separated from the other vees. which sucks! because it just makes me wonder "would valentino or vox tangibly lose anything if velvet didnt work with them? and would anything change about their dynamic if she wasnt there?" and i know the answer is "probably not!"

the fact that no ones mentioned her despite s2 having a "heavier focus on the vees" is so fucking telling. she really doesnt feel like the backbone of the vees! she feels like the third wheel vox and val hired and she just stays with them for power despite her not speaking/having a relationship with them at all. its not even like the idea of "30 year old woman stops caring so much about her gay dads she created and slowly begins to resent them, working with them anyway for power" is a terrible idea, but i absolutely know thats not what viv intended. vel is absolutely an afterthought in the writing when shes with the other vees and its apart of what makes me dislike them now more then ever. if s1 couldnt even have velvet speak to the other vees about ANYTHING other then important business stuff (like, idk, fashion, technology, love potions, the few fucking things these characters have in common) then i doubt s2 is gonna be much better.

anyway velvet should leave the vees and get some granny gyatt from carmilla thank u 4 reading <3

Calling it now, season 2's going to contain as little Velvette as Viv can get away with. Because you said it best yourself -- she's not so much a character as a third wheel Vox and Val hired. If they're not around then she's sometimes allowed to shine, but if they are, forget it. It's all about them.

[marleyybluu]

Could you write something with Rio x reader? Where reader is Marcus’ nanny and Rio starts falling in love with her. 💙

The Nanny

Rio x fem!reader

wc: 1.4k

Mick helped Rio with a lot of things, but he'd never been more grateful for his services until he recommended Yn for a nanny.

Rio was a single father with an empire to maintain, it was hard being out for most of the day and coming home to a house that was, not disgusting but definitely not as clean as it should be. He was tired whenever he got home and whatever energy he did have left went to his son Marcus. Playing with him, taking him to soccer practice after school, helping him get ready for bed, and reading him stories before he slept. By the time all that was done, he himself would be knocked out in bed or on the couch.

One day, just venting about how everything was going Mick brought up Yn, she used to watch Mick's children as well and she was amazing at her job, the house was always spotless, the food she cooked was phenomenal, not to mention she was great with the kids and helping them in any way they needed. She slowly became a part of their family so much so that they still constantly kept in touch.

Rio wasn't too keen on anyone other than family watching Marcus, but at this point, he was willing to take all the help he could get and so he got her number from his partner and dialled her up explaining the positive things that Mick had told him.

The call couldn't have come at a better time because Yn was in between shitty jobs that she didn't enjoy. She agreed to meet with him at a park not too far from his place, he let Marcus run around while still keeping a watchful eye on him until someone entered his atmosphere, the softest voice saying, "Hi, sorry, are you Rio?"

He was immediately struck by her beauty, he didn't know who he was expecting but it definitely wasn't her. He almost didn't want to bother with an interview, wanted to tell her she was hired on the spot. He proceeded with it anyway but it didn't feel like a regular one, yeah he asked her how many families she worked for, and what interests her about childcare but that was about it. They spent that afternoon just talking about any and everything.

Rio was smitten by her smile, her laughter was infectious. She did a cute little head tilt whenever she laughed which he was sure she was unaware of. He hired her right then and there.

That's when things started to get a little too involved on his side. He was in his feelings over her, it all happened so quickly. The relationship that Yn had built with Marcus was such a sweet thing to watch unravel, he loved watching him get excited to see her walk through that door, the way the two of them would be in the kitchen dicing it up whenever he got home— he had forgotten what it was like to have another person around but he was enjoying this.

"Can I eat the batter?" Rio heard Marcus ask excitedly, he chuckled shrugging off his jacket and hanging it up in the closet, he slid off his shoes dumping them right under his jacket before closing the closet door. He shuffled over to the kitchen catching Yn handing over a spoon with some batter on it to Marcus who eagerly took it and got to work.

Rio asked. "What's going on here? Sweets before bed?" Marcus froze and so did Yn. Marcus whispers. "Maybe if we don't move he won't see us." His dad approached him, dipping his finger in the batter and plopping it on his child's nose. Marcus giggled hugging his dad. "How was your day kiddo?"

"Awesome. Practice got cancelled, so Yn took me to an arcade that she said she used to go to and then we went to get ice cream-"

"You didn't have work to do?" Rio questioned, he knew that Yn had a soft spot for Marcus and it was hard for her to tell him no sometimes. "Yeah, I did it when I came home."

Yn bent her lips in to hide her smile when Rio looked at her with raised eyebrows, she nodded confirming he did finish his work. "Aight. When you're done go get ready for bed. I'll be up in a minute."

Marcus turned to Yn. "Are you coming too?"

She shook her head. "Sorry honey, I have to go home soon." He pouted turning back to his father. "Why can't Yn love with us?"

The question threw the both of them off guard. Rio rubbed the back of his neck letting out a nervous laugh. "I mean, she has her own house and her own space papito."

He hung his head. "I know, but it'd just be more fun."

Yn blushed. "Well, maybe one day I'll spend the night... uh, if that's okay with your dad." Marcus grinned looking up at Rio. He wouldn't refuse that opportunity himself. He nodded his head over to the steps, a silent message for him to get his butt upstairs like he instructed the first time. The young boy sighed and licked off the last of the batter off before dumping the spoon in the sink. "Good night Yn." He said hugging her leg, she bent down pressing a kiss on his head.

"Good night sweets, I'll see you tomorrow."

With the two finally alone, Rio leaned against the counter, eyes dragging down her body as she finished the final touches on the cupcakes they just poured out. "You need help with anything?" Asked Rio. Yn shook her head. "Im just gonna put this in the oven, wash the dishes and be out of your hair."

"You always say that like I don't want you here."

Yn tugged on her bottom lip. "Sorry,"

"It's all good..." His sentence trailed off once she opened the oven and bent over sliding the tray inside, eyes glued to her backside even when she straightened up and closed the door. Yn turned around catching him in the act of pure adoration. Her face felt warm again.

"You're food is in the microwave, might be cold though."

He thanked her and started the microwave to warm up his food. He shoved his hands in his pockets, "So," he started. "How was your day?"

She shrugged. "Good, we just hung out-"

"Nah, nah," Rio leaned on the counter right next to her, his elbow popped her personal bubble once her crossed his arms. "How was your day? Aside from Marcus." Letting her know it was more of a personal question. "Oh, um... it was okay."

He raised his 'brow. "Why just okay?"

"Just tired, I don't know. I didn't sleep last night and then you called for me to come early-"

"You should've said something this morning. I would've cancelled what I had and dropped him off at school instead, let you sleep in."

She shook her head dismissing his offer. "It's cool."

Rio pondered on what Marcus had said earlier, maybe it wouldn't be so bad having Yn become a live in nanny. She lived far from where he was but bless her heart she always made it to the house or the school on time but now he was wondering how early she was waking up, starting to become worried if she was getting enough sleep.

"What if uh... what if you stayed here?"

She stopped scrubbing at the dishes and casted her eyes to the side. "What? Like... live with you guys?"

"Yeah, that way you could get some sleep, don't have to worry about driving so much. You wake up and everything's right here." YN twisted her mouth to the side, she was considering it, hell she wanted to say yes but it would look too weird and eager. Her response was taking a bit too long causing Rio to back track. "Look, it's only a suggestion. There's an extra room upstairs, I'll pay to move all your stuff here. If you want."

Yn looked over at him, a small smirk sat on his face and it caused her to smile. "Okay."

"Yeah?" He sounded a little too excited. "Yeah... it could be fun." Her tone suddenly turned from cheery to deep. "Aight then, it starts tonight. You go catch some sleep, I'll do the dishes when I'm done."

"Rio, it's okay."

His nostrils flared. She was a bit stubborn. "YN."

She sighed putting her hands up in surrender. "When the timer goes off take the cake out of the oven. Marcus' lunch is already packed."

"No problem. You can raid my closet until your stuff gets here. What's mine is yours ma."

She smiled softly. "Thanks. I will see you in the morning."

Rio winked and watched her vanish upstairs. He smirked knowing he has her right where he wanted her.

idk i hope yall like it. yes there will be part 2

If you liked this fic feel free to like this fic. Comments and re-blogs are appreciated. 

Peace and love 

Part 2

Tags: @skyesthebomb @rio-reid-whoreee

[obanais-koibito]

~Falling For Him~ Part 1

Bodyguard Giyu x Singer Reader

Tagging: @kimetsu-chan

Your boss, Haruto, tosses a newspaper onto the table in front of you before sitting down. The newspaper has the mugshot of yet another crazy fan that has broken into your dressing room and attempted to kidnap you. Haruto lets out a deep and frustrated sigh as he supports his chin upon his hands and stares at you.

“Y/n, this is exactly what I am talking about, this is the third time this month someone has shown up and stirred up trouble! You could’ve gotten seriously hurt!”

You let out a groan as you run a hand through your hair, mirroring the sense of frustration Haruto has.

“I know I know but, I don’t think a personal bodyguard following me around is really necessary! It’s kinda creepy!”

Your reply causes Haruto to grunt in annoyance and take off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.

��I know you don’t like the idea of someone following you around like a hound dog but it is necessary to keep you safe! People are dangerous and it’s only a matter of time before someone successfully harms or kidnaps you! Just having security is not enough!”

You feel a knot of unease form in your stomach, Haruto had that same look in his eyes whenever he was set on a decision. You knew from his tone and that look that you had no choice…

“This was the final straw, I am hiring you a bodyguard no matter how much you protest, your safety comes first.”

You slump down in your seat and groan, the knot inside your stomach growing.

“Great…”

Your mutter causes Haruto to roll his eyes as he opens his laptop.

“No need to be so upset, I’ll hire the best bodyguard to ensure your safety. You’ll get used to it eventually so calm down and have an open mind. It won’t be as bad as you make it out to be, trust me.”

TIMESKIP…

Here you are, sitting in your dressing room staring into your mirror with a bored and irritated expression. Haruto is currently interviewing bodyguards in his office and it only irritates you further. Why could he not see that you can handle yourself? Sure there are a large quantity of creeps and perverts out there but it was normal for someone such as a singer to experience. Your makeup crew puts the finishing touches on your hair and makeup and leaves you in your dressing room, alone with your thoughts.

You let out a groan and begin to rub your temples in attempt to get rid of the headache that is beginning to form. You hear a ding and you look over at your phone to see a message from Haruto. You sigh and pick your phone up to read the message which says: “I have found a bodyguard fit for your expectations! Come to my office to meet him.”

“Ugh great…perfect timing, I get to go meet some old guy that will follow me around for the rest of my life, I have a headache, and I have rehearsal later. What a perfect day!”

You mutter in a sarcastic tone before taking a deep breath and forcing a smile. You walk out of your dressing room and head over to Haruto’s office. You knock three times on the door and wait until you hear Haruto’s voice.

“Come in!”

His voice sounds from inside and you take another deep breath before turning the doorknob. When you walk inside, you see Haturo sitting down in his chair with a man who is relatively tall and has long black hair pulled back into a ponytail. The man looks at you with a stoic expression and to your surprise, he seems rather young. His dark blue eyes meet yours and you can feel your cheeks heat up.

“This is your new bodyguard, Giyu Tomioka, he scored top of his class and is one of the best bodyguards out there!”

Haruto explains with a grin, Giyu stands up and bows to you before you can hear his soothing and calm voice.

“Hello Y/n-San, I am honored to be working for you.”

He looks back up and sits down once more as he places his hands on his knees. You remain quiet for a couple of seconds before clearing your throat and averting your gaze a bit.

“R-right, thank you…”

“Okay then! Y/n, I have already gone over the rules and schedules for your shows, rehearsals, etc so just go about your day and he will protect you.”

[misfitwashere]

Putin's Legend

The Nonsensical Basis of a Terrible War

Timothy Snyder

Aug 25, 2024

Two-and-a-half years ago, Russia began a full-scale invasion of Ukraine, setting off the largest war the world has seen since 1945. 

Although Russia's leaders have offered various spurious justifications for their illegal war of aggression, Vladimir Putin's nost consistent explanation has been ideological: Russia is an ancient state, and Ukraine is historically Russian land.

Let us take advantage of this half-anniversary to consider this claim. 

Anniversaries take hold of the imagination, especially the round ones.  The fullness of years and the beauty of numbers seduce us into myths of eternity and goodness.  But history, unlike legend,  is composed of fragments, of bits, of things we understand halfway, and seek to grasp ever better.

This is one reason why few historians grapple with the gilded myths that Putin has put forward about the ancient past, most notoriously in a long essay in 2021 and then in a tedious interview with Tucker Carlson in 2024 (both linked below).  

When confronted with magical thinking by dictators, historians feel out of place, like a bridge player invited to judge prestidigitation, say, or a surgeon hired to care for wax figures. 

Putin is in love with a legend.  Historically speaking, this is very familiar: new regimes, such as Putin's, seek compensation in myths of ancient origin.

Putin's idea of Russia, his justification for the killing of hundreds of thousands of people, his rationalization of his attempt to destroy Ukraine as a people — it all rests on a very familiar sort of tall tale: we were here first.  These stories are generally complete falsehoods, from the “we” through the “were” and the “here” and the “first.” And so it is for Putin.

But the stories get repeated so often that they take on a kind of leaden plausibility, like a bad habit. It takes a little work to throw them off. So here goes!

The legend begins with a single obscure incident, understood by Putin to prove the existence and endurance of a Russian state: Long ago there was a city called Novgorod, inhabited by people who were unable to get along.  These quarrelsome folk, the Slavs, invited three Viking brothers, known as the Rus, to come and rule them.  The arrival of Vikings began an unbroken tradition of a Russian "centralized state."

As he says, Putin has the story from a medieval chronicle, "The Tale of Bygone Years," probably from the early twelfth century.  The monk (or monks) in Kyiv who compiled this text had heard about the arrival of the Vikings known as the Rus from Scandinavia, which had taken place about four hundred years earlier.  In the intervening centuries, the various parts of the fractious Scandinavian clans had founded, taken over, and lost control of a number or towns in eastern Europe. The monk or monks knew were trying to explain why the Kyivan part of a Scandinavian ruling clan still known by the name Rus was more important than other clans in other places. 

"The Tale of Bygone Years" is one of dozens of helpful medieval sources which touch on the Scandinavians in eastern Europe, which mix fable and useful information.  These texts have to be read critically and together, and alongside the findings of archeologists and numismatists who have worked in the places in question.  In what follows I will be doing this.

Before analyzing the legend that Putin loves, it would be helpful to spell out all of the claims it contains and that he draws from it, some of which are explicit, and some of which are implicit -- things that the listener might go away from the story believing, even though they are never stated.

1.  There was a city called Novgorod when the Vikings known as the Rus arrived.

2.  There were three Viking brothers.

3.  The Vikings accepted the invitation and peacefully and durably ruled.

4.  The people of this city were in some sense Russians because they were Slavs.

5.  These Vikings were also in some sense Russians, since they called themselves “Rus.”

6.  The existence of an ethnic group in a town more than a thousand years ago means a right to rule today by a dictator who calls himself a name that he also associates with that ethnic group.

7.  The existence of the rulers of that ethnic group more than a thousand years ago means a right to rule today by a dictator who calls himself a name that he also associates with those rulers.

8.  Events in one location more than a thousand years ago justify the existence and actions of a transcontinental empire engaged in a war of aggression against a neighboring state.

9.  An algorithm exists whereby we can justify repression and war today via obscure, distant events.

10.  This algorithm is known to dictators who tell the story, carry out the repressions and start the wars.

When spelled out like this, the claims reveal their magical character.  Even if claims 1-5 were completely correct, the moral and political interpretations Putin offers in claims 6-10 are illogical and repugnant. 

Such “reasoning” is why few historians will engage Putin's legend directly.  It has nothing to do with history -- with assembling evidence, with questioning hypothesis, with making reasonable arguments based upon sources and traditions of interpretation.  It is a claim to power, whose only sense arises from the power itself. That is really all that needs to be said.

Having understood that, historians can choose to go the extra mile, and note that the factual claims (1-5) are balderdash.  It only really makes sense to do this in a constructive rather than in a destructive spirit, in an effort to reveal something about what we actually do know about early medieval Scandinavia and eastern Europe, and how we know it.  It is in that spirit that I will proceed.  Let us consider each claim in turn.

1.  There was a city called Novgorod when the Vikings known as the Rus arrived.

There was not.  Novgorod had not yet been founded at the time of the arrival of the Rus in the territories that are now northeastern Russia.  It was founded about a quarter millenium later. (It had also not yet been founded when Vikings first began to lay claim to Kyiv, which already existed and was probably controlled by Khazars.)

Novgorod is attractive for a Russian myth because it exists now and it existed at the time the monks were writing. But it did not exist at the time of the events the monks were recounting. But this is just the very beginning of the profound untruthfulness of the story.

Here is what we know. Traders from Scandinavia were present around the body of water we now call Lake Ladoga in the sixth century.  Around the middle of the eighth century, the Vikings who called themselves Rus established a trading emporium at a site that Russian archaeologists call Ladoga, but which the Vikings themselves called Aldeigja. 

Packed away in storage in the Hermitage in St.Petersburg is a bronze figure from Aldeigja in its early days: Odin with his two ravens. This contemporary piece of evidence, similar to other figures from Scandinavia, and one among thousands, tells us more than later chronicles about the time and place and people.

The power center associated with Aldeigja was probably called the Rus Khaganate. We believe that it was called this because of contemporary evidence: a recorded encounter between Rus emissaries and the king of the Franks.

About a century after the foundation of Aldeigja, the Vikings known as Rus established another trade center, which they called Holmgar∂, and which Russians later called Gorodishche. 

The town Novgorod in its turn was founded more than a hundred years after that and about a mile away. It had nothing to do with the first encounter of the Rus and the locals. It could not have done so, since it did not then exist.

2.  There were three Viking brothers.

This is a different sort of claim.  One can show with considerable certainty, on the basis of the archaeological evidence, when Scandinavian Rus towns such as Aldeigja and Holmgar∂ were established, and have a pretty good idea of who lived there and what occupations were pursued. 

One cannot of course disprove, on this basis, that there were once three Viking brothers.  The reasons to disbelieve this claim are of a different kind, arising from the study of political myth and its structures. 

The number 3 has a profound significance in Indo-European stories about the origin of the world.  According to Tacitus, the ancient Germanic peoples (whose culture preceded that of the Germanic Vikings), believed that the earth god had a son, and that son had three sons, and those three sons founded all the other peoples.  Odin was himself one of three brothers. In Viking times, the settlement of new (from the Viking perspective) lands was systematically justified by a story of the arrival of three brothers, usually sons or grandsons of Odin.  In this manner the Viking clan who had power justified its position and its right to control lands (and native peoples).  The Tale of Bygone Years, which is essentially one saga among many others, reproduced this standard trope of the Scandinavian sagas. 

It is worth emphasizing that the story of the three brothers is always about why Scandinavians get to rule other people. The survival of the “three-brothers” trope is a reminder of Scandinavian domination. That is its meaning.

3.  The Vikings accepted the invitation and peacefully and durably ruled.

In the case of this bit of nonsense, both literary and archaeological methods help.  One does not have to be a student of early legends to understand that the "invitation" story is suspect.  Right down to the present, invading armies claim that they have come only at the invitation of the people whose lands they now occupy. 

Contemporary Russians should be particularly sensitive to this, since the Bolshevik invasion of Poland in 1919, the Soviet invasion of Poland in 1939, the Warsaw Pact occupation of Czechoslovakia in 1968, the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in 1979, the Russian invasion of Georgia in 2008, and the Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2014 were all justified by supposed invitations from within the invaded country. 

The ancient Scandinavians also knew this trick, and the story of their being "invited" to the region of Aldeigja and Holmgar∂, in what is now northwestern Russia, is an obvious colonial tale.  Not only is it certainly fictional, its purpose was to deny (not to affirm) the agency of the local people. 

The entity that Putin has in mind was the Rus Khaganate. The name Rus referred to the Scandinavian clan; the Scandinavians borrowed the term “kagan” for ruler from the Khazars, their partner in the slave trade. Vikings were in the area in order to facilitate trade southward for Arabic silver.  The chief goods they traded were at first furs and then slaves. 

During the period in question, the Vikings known as the Rus understood systematic slave raids in the area, killing the adult men and then selling women, boys and girls into slavery. The power center around Aldeigja and Holmgar∂ had its ascent and its collapse. Either it was attacked by other Scandinavians, or it was challenged by local rebellions of peoples subject to slave raids, or perhaps both. The Rus Khaganate seems to have collapse in about 870. Rus and other Scandinavian traders remained active, and trade emporia would be revived and new towns founded, but the first Rus polity seems to have ended then.

4.  The people of this city were in some sense Russians because they were Slavs.

Here one must apply the literary criticism not to the Tale of Bygone Years but to Putin himself.  He never actually says that the people in the Aldeigja and Holmgar∂ regions were Russians; he wrongly believes that they were Slavs, and implies a Russian identity by claiming that their actions laid the basis for a "centralized Russian state."  This is, of course, a trick. 

It is absurd to imagine Russians existing 1200 or 1300 years ago, and Putin avoids the absurdity by slipping in his imaginary Russians by silent implication.  And so the point must be made explicitly: there were no Russians anywhere in the world 1200 or 1300 years ago.  There was no notion whatever of a Russian people. 

The backup position would be that these people were Slavs and thus in some sense proto-Russians.  

That is not how history works: there is no natural, inevitable progression from people speaking a language 1200 or 1300 years ago to the cultural identities or political regimes of today. 

But even if one believes in this political magic, and even if one believes that people speaking a slavic language 1200 or 1300 years ago were somehow proto-Russians, there is still a major problem.  The people who lived in the area at the time did not generally speak Slavic languagues. They were mainly Finns, not Slavs. 

For that matter, Finns seem to have been the most important group not only in the Aldeigja and Holmgar∂ regions, but in all of what is now northeastern Russia, including what is now the Moscow region. (There was, of course, no city of Moscow at the time.)

5.  These Vikings were also in some sense Russians, since they called themselves “Rus.”

Here again we confront an implicit claim, one that is is backed by a semantic trick.  There is now a country called the Russian Federation, which is named after an earlier country called the Russian Empire, which was named after Vikings who called themselves Rus, or after the medieval power centers established by the Rus, the first of which was the Rus Khaganate. 

There is a power in names, just as there is a power in anniversaries and round numbers.  If those people were called Rus, must they not have been Russians?  Well, no. The Rus came first. The Russian Empire was named after them about a thousand years after they appeared. The naming confuses things, but it need not confuse us.  

At the time period in question, other European rulers had no difficulty establishing who the Rus were: they were Swedes.  In the poems and stories they sang and wrote, and in the traces they left in their burial ground, the Rus were unambiguously Scandinavians.  To be sure, they were influenced by the peoples with whom they came into contact: Finns, Balts, Arabs, Bulgars, Khazars, Slavs.  This was a period of the globalization of Scandinavia, and the Rus were part of an exploratory impulse that reached four continents

In the eighth and ninth centuries, the Rus were Scandinavian trading and clans.  Later on, as some Rus settled ever further south, for example in Gnezdevo, Chernihiv, and Kyiv, the Scandinavians reinforced their elite status by marrying Scandinavians from Scandinavia, by treating them as allies and friends, and by expanding upon and sharing in Scandinavian culture. 

After the collapse of the Rus Khaganate, other Rus managed to establish another power center, much later, at Kyiv. Now rather than cooperating with the Khazars they were taking over their land and tribute centers. The Rus (or other Scandinavians) also built the first towns in other parts of eastern Europe, for example in the area around Moscow (which of course did not exist at the time).

After telling his deeply implausible legend about Novgorod, Putin's next move is to cite the Tale of Bygone Years about Kyiv.  The person or people who wrote that saga was concerned to show that the Rus ruler of Kyiv, was the most important prince in the region. By the time of the writing of the chronicle, Novgorod did exist, and so a story presented itself which linked the two places and showed the superiority of Kyiv.

The story is that a Viking from Novgorod managed to take Kyiv by dressing himself up as a trader and fooling the naive local rulers.  At his moment of his triumph this Viking produced a baby and proclaimed that the child was by blood the true ruler of the land. After this improbable succession of events that Viking of the story proclaimed Kyiv “the mother of Rus cities,” a bit of language meant to assure people in the twelfth century that the present rulers of Kyiv should dominate over other Rus in other towns.

One could perform the same kind of analysis on this story.  At the time The Tale of Bygone Years was written, there was no Russia. There were no Russians. There were clans of Scandinavians called Rus, who were engaged in a contest of dominance, with towns and emporia that rose and fell. Part of this contest was a story, set down in the early twelfth century, describing the arrival of the Rus in Kyiv, a historical event of the early tenth century.

Rus did in fact arrive in Kyiv, but not as the story describes. The Vikings in the story could not have come from Novgorod, since at the time the Rus began to settle the Kyiv area Novgorod had not yet been founded. It was much later on, when both cities did exist, at the time of the chronicle, when the Scandinavians in Kyiv wanted to justify both their own pedigree and their own dominance. The story can only be understood in these terms. Otherwise it is just comical.

The baby thing is ridiculous; no Viking ever went to war with a baby on display, nor did any Viking have the idea of a royal dynasty of which the baby would be the heir. The dressup game is a fictional stratagem familiar from Scandinavian sagas as well as contemporary Byzantine war stories. Even if one ignores the legendary and preposterous character all that, the timing of the events is challenged by the recorded birth and death dates of the clever wardrobe Viking and the portable baby Viking.

The hero of the Kyiv story, the clever wardrobe Viking known as Helgi (or Oleh or Oleg in Ukrainian or Russian) is a semi-mythical character. There is no reason to believe that he represented a dynasty coming from Novgorod, since Novgorod did not exist yet, and since the Rus khaganate had ceased to exist. It is likely that, if he came at all, Helgi came from Gnezdovo, which was a rival of Chernihiv and Kyiv at the time. Helgi means “hero” and this Helgi is one of dozens who populate medieval Scandinavian stories. This Helgi supposedly died by fulfilling a complicated prophesy involving his horse, a story which features in multiple north European settings.

The Kyiv incident could not have happened, did not happen, and even had it happened would have no implications for the present war.  It is not really worth the effort to press the point further about Kyiv, not least because the validity of the Kyiv tale, which is nil, would depend on the validity of the prior Novgorod story, which is nil.  

You can see why historians hesitate to engage in all this.  What Putin is doing has nothing to do with history as a discipline.  He is engaged in building a legend, which us based on other legends. And each of his sentences is so rich in various kinds of error that it takes hundreds of words to explain all of the wrongness! 

And in taking the tale seriously, the historian fears that he has made it more serious. This is what I called “dancing with a skeleton” in my book Reconstruction of Nations, where I discourage it. I am only doing it now since the both the myth and the war persist, and people (even outside Russia) persist in justifying the war by the myth.

By concentrating upon the fundamental legend, the one on which all the others depend, I hope to have shown that the structure itself is empty.

The rules Putin sets down for interpreting the past cannot be accepted.  It is nothing more than fantasy following force. This is the most important point. If we grant that tyrants are right to start wars because of fictions of brothers and babies, because of stories that are not even wrong, then every single corner of the world is subject to invasion and the entire international legal order is void.

Even were we to accept the way Putin thinks about the past, which we absolutely should not do, it would lead to a very different conclusion than he thinks. The best guesses of long-dead monks are not a solid basis for contemporary statehood. The Tale of Bygone Years cannot do what Putin asks of it.

If, in order to exist today, states have to prove their ancient pedigree and their durable ethnic and political history, then Putin would have to accept that there is no basis for the existence of today’s Russian Federation.

Were Putin to follow his own logic, he would not be invading Ukraine, but handing over European Russia to Finland or Sweden.

[qqueenofhades]

can i ask you for some advice on how to reach out to a professor (at a university you don't attend) to ask about helping them out with their research? i'm not currently enrolled in college for a variety of financial/logistical reasons, but i really care about research and i really want to gain the skill of doing good research. i like to think i'm good at writing and critical thinking, and i'm eager to both learn and contribute.

i know i'm going to have to cold email professors and show that i've read their papers and find their research interesting, especially since i don't have much on a resume. i've read conflicting advice on how to email people -- some sources say to keep it as short and easy to read as possible, and others say to provide in-depth analysis and possibly constructive criticism of the research they've done to show you're committed. i really don't think i'm in a place to provide constructive criticism on what professional researchers are doing, LOL, but it might help to provide some commentary to show i understand it.

so my questions are, how much is too much, and how little is (probably) too little? i'm thinking of aiming for the equivalent of ~two paragraphs per email. also, are there any reliable indications of how well a professor treats the volunteers or employees/grad students who work for them? (and whether they could use extra help?)

thank you so much for reading!! i hope you have a wonderful day, and i love your blog ❤️

I admire your initiative and your desire to improve your research skills, which is why I'll have to gently say that I'm not sure this is the best way to go about it. There are a few reasons for that, namingly that first and foremost, professors are very busy and overworked people. They don't have time to do all the things they actually need to do and/or are actually paid for, and having to take extra time to summarize their research and/or organize it for an outsider who doesn't attend their university is, I'm afraid, probably going to be a pretty hard sell for most if not all of them. There's also the fact that if they do have the kind of research where it's useful to have a student assistant, there is no reason for them to give that spot to you and not one of their own students at the university, who are already actively enrolled, paying for their time, and contributing to their job and institution's research goals and projects. Not to mention that there are university confidentiality agreements, work-study arrangements, and all the rest, which would all preclude a professor just hiring a random non-student assistant off the street. Speaking from my current spot in university/department administration, I can say that it would definitely be a non-starter for us for a number of reasons. We just had an issue with flagging a student who wasn't technically enrolled in our specific program within our constituent college, although she was enrolled in the university, so bringing in someone with no connection to the university at all wouldn't fly, alas.

If you're really interested in working with THIS particular professor for some reason and not just a name you picked off a department directory with a form email that you're sending to any likely-looking candidate, you'll have to explain why in considerable depth, what you're doing or what your project is for, why you think it would be valuable for you AND for them for them to collaborate, and why you're contacting them directly instead of say, central Human Resources or the Careers page for the college. There are sometimes spots for research fellows, part-time lab assistants, or other jobs with the kind of work you seem to be looking for, but that requires you to go through the formal application/interview process like any other job and isn't something for which you can just slip in the back door (a professor would, for one thing, not likely be willing to just take you on without you going through the regular selection process for these posts and being interviewed by the university's regular hiring people).

As noted, there are legal liability issues, restrictions on what kind of information they can share with people even within the university let alone outside it, and the fact that it's not their job to hire and screen potential assistants for a research project UNLESS they are running an active project as the Principal Investigator (PI) and explicitly looking for student volunteers/employees (which even then will likely be searched/filled from within the university first). A cold email out of nowhere asking if they have some work for you, Random Stranger, will, unfortunately, go straight into the junk folder. If they're feeling polite, they might respond by directing you to reach out to HR, but that's a stretch. If you are planning to attend this university in the future, you might lead with that, because then they'll have more incentive to discuss what kind of options are available and so forth, but yeah. It's just not something I would expect to have a very great success rate and I know that if I got that kind of email, I would discard it pretty much out of hand. (I did get an extremely weird email a few weeks ago from someone asking ME if I would help THEM with their research, wherein they never specified so much as the basic subject area, what university they were at, what the project was, how they would envision me helping, why they chose me to contact, etc. It was basically a cautionary tale in how not to ask an academic to collaborate, and yes, it went pretty much straight into the recycle bin without a reply.)

If you still think after hearing this that you have a legitimate option to contact and at least feel out the waters (after all, never say never, stranger things have happened, etc) then yeah, uh, don't go with the "absolute stranger the professor doesn't know from Adam makes an unsolicited critique of their work and then asks for a job." Academics are used to receiving constructive criticism and it obviously comes with the territory, but it also comes within structured forums and at expected times -- when you present a paper to your peers at a conference, submit to a journal, etc. Popping out of nowhere to give unsolicited academic crit is as rude as popping out of nowhere to give unsolicited crit on a fanfic or something else that you've posted outside of the specific expectation of receiving it, wherein some "I Just Wanna Help" obnoxious mansplainer (gender neutral) says a lot of "helpful" things that nobody asked them for and then seems shocked when this isn't well received. I don't know who gave you that particular little nugget of uh, wisdom, but as you think, it's not something that strikes me in any way as a good idea, and would probably piss the academic off in a way that would have them venting to their friends and colleagues, and might therefore do you more harm than good in a number of different ways.

If you want to independently improve your research skills and work within the structure of academia-adjacent realms, what I really recommend doing is volunteering at your local public library, history/science museum, or other similar institution. They're always eager for volunteers and/or part-time employees, they have a number of different tasks and skills that need doing, it's a great way to build professional and community connections and see how things are done behind the scenes, and it looks good on your CV when or if you do apply to college (and then have a much easier path toward working with professors in the way you want to do). So yeah, all told, that's strongly what I'd recommend -- good luck!

[pastelpousay]

SOOOOOOO i would love to know the deets behind Rayco 👀how did they meet? how did Ray get the royal advisor job? how do they fall in love~~~~

anything you wanna share i am ALL EARS :3

@selinas-ships

OMGGG IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS DAY SO LONGGG

OKAY OKAYYY IM STILL SETTING UP THE LORE AS I GO BUT HERES THE OUTLINE FOR WHAT IVE GOT SO FAR (Also this is gonna be kinda long because I need everyone it understand this amazing intellectual idea I had ☝️🤓/j)

Okay so basically uhmm I didn’t have much of a way to actually insert myself like I usually would 💀😭 I googled a time line so uhm- I was lowk kinda cooked but like 💀💀 I have to insert myself so I just kind decided to be extra with it 💀

So time travel is a funny thing?? How this happened I have not a clue. (I’d imagine Ray has a roommate or something who like practices magic or something I dunno 💀💀 I feel so cringe writing that but I’ve got nothing else. Also it just makes sense for Ray to have a roommate who practices magic since she makes potions and stuff like Yzma) so basically yea- uhm I’ll just explain this like a story I guess because there’s more to this guys LIKE A LOT NGL.

okay so Ray practices chem and zoology (she also makes potions) and her roomie (got no clue what to name her) accidentally makes a time traveling portal while Ray is reading up on a old book (for guess what?!? That’s right the poison- poison for kuzco- the Poison made specifically for kuzco- Kuzco’s poison okay I’ll stop 💀) but yea she’s reading up on those exact type of elixirs mostly out of curiosity (lowk wants to turn her professor into a Llama because he failed her on an exam 💀) but yea that happens they get transported back to when and where that book was written (I’m not worrying on the details because nuh uh- too much work)

But yea so Ray and her roomie are kind of adjusting to life trying to blend in. I really have no clue take with that what you will 😭😭 I got no idea it’s just an outline tbh.

How they became his advisor?? 💀 not a clue. I’d imagine most of the town’s people not only from Pacha’s village but all of them have at least bumped into her or heard of her (he stands out to much 💀) but most regard them as highly intelligent. And since Yzma got turned into a cat Kuzco’s been looking for a new advisor ever since then but hasn’t found the right pick. I’d also imagine a few of the town’s people had been suggesting her as a new advisor for a while but he never got to it until he started actually doing interviews and they showed up. And uhh well yea he sure did ace that interview!! (Kuzco just really likes talking to them lmaoo- they were literally like pretend bickering the entire interview they clocked his shit 💀 so off he had to hire him he can’t just have some boring old person be his advisor now he needs something fun of course!!)

OKAY THATS ALL IVE GOT FOR THEIR LORE NOW TBH ID SAY ITS LIKE… friends to lovers but it’s happening slowly (neither of of them wants to say they like the other they have wayyyy to much fun hating on each other lmaoo) ANYWAYS THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR ASKING ABT MY GOOFY AHHH SHIP

[jq37]

Please let us know if you solve this mystery!

OK! It’s the end of the year so let me compile everything I was able to come up with (with the help of everyone I dragged into this–you know who you are and thank you and I’m sorry). 

To anyone who’s just seeing this and doesn’t have context, in November, right before the movie Wish came out, I made a longish post questioning who Allison Moore was (which, incidentally, is the first post that comes up when you Google “Allison Moore Disney”).

The reason I was curious about who this random writer is is because she’s credited as one of the co-writers of Wish, Disney’s 100th Anniversary Feature Film BUT she has no obvious experience writing for animation, children, or fantasy when everyone else on the main team has credits on stuff like Frozen and Encanto. I thought it was bizarre that there would be someone so green on a project so big so I went digging. 

Here’s what I learned:

(1) Moore wasn’t originally announced as being attached to the project. Chris Buck, Jennifer Lee, and Fawn Veersunthorn were all mentioned when the project was officially announced in Sept 2022 (for example). Moore was not. And you’d think they’d mention the *co-writer*, right? You don’t start to see her name until a year later in Sept 2023 when the trailer dropped (for example). So it seems like she was brought onto the project later. Of course, this could just be a normal quirk of the industry or something I’m misinterpreting, but I think it’s worth mentioning. 

(2) Moore seems to have a lot more credits in stage writing than she does in screenwriting. I wasn’t able to 100% confirm it until recently (I’ll get to that in a second) but she’s written a bunch of plays and it seems like this is where she has most of her bona fides. 

“Allison is the recipient of two Jerome Fellowships, two McKnight Advancement Grants and the Bush Artist Fellowship.”

That sounds fancy. But it still doesn’t say “Top Choice for Disney Anniversary Movie” to me. That’s not a statement on writing quality. I haven’t read/seen any of her plays. It’s about the subject matter. Look at some of these synopses:

None of that really screams Disney. Which isn’t to say people can’t have range. George Miller wrote all the Mad Maxes but also Babe and both Happy Feet. But if I was hiring someone for a really big project, I wouldn’t want that project to be their first attempt at expanding into that genre. 

(3) This isn’t actually inherently important but she was on an episode of Nailed it. That’s where this picture comes from:

She won the first round and the game ended in a three way tie for the first time in the show’s history. 

The only reason this is noteworthy in the larger scale of things is that, until very recently, this was one of only two places online you could see Allison Moore talking. The other is this very short interview on the red carpet during the premiere. 

There’s nothing in that interview that explains anything. It’s mainly her talking about how it was fun working on the movie and how good the movie is. 

Honestly, good for her for not being Extremely Online, but it really felt like I could get a bit of a handle on everyone else who’d worked on this project in a high profile way but not her. Which is part of why I started down this rabbit hole to begin with. There was nothing to show where she might have had a connection or an interest or anything that would connect the dots. 

For reference, Fawn (who was one of the Directors and story writers) has the kind of resume that I was expecting Moore to have when I initially Googled her:

Smaller jobs on other kids/animated movies (Hop, The Lorax, Despicable Me 2), some storyboard or art work on other Disney stuff (Frozen, Moana, Zootopia, Ralph), and then a big break (Raya and Wish). Based on my understanding of the industry (and I know a fair bit because it’s one I’m interested in professionally) that’s a very typical track to get to the writing side of animation.  

A couple of people speculated that Moore got onto the project in a mentorship capacity. Now, I’m a Black woman who writes fiction professionally when I’m not on this hellsite (affectionate) with the rest of y’all. That means I have firsthand experience with what mentorship looks like in writing–both official Diversity and Inclusion type mentorship and more organic “Let me take you under my wing” type mentorship. I have *never* seen anyone get a job this high profile at the jump just due to mentorship alone. Going from zero to Disney’s 100th anniversary is kinda insane. This wasn’t some B project or something. It was a Big Deal Project. And this is Disney so they could have hired basically anyone they wanted. So you have to assume this was an active decision someone made and not just a thing that happened for lack of options. But in all my searching, Moore wasn’t mentioned except to just say she wrote the screenplay with Jennifer Lee. It was just the baking show and the Youtube clip.

Until today.

(4) I’m going to preface this by saying this doesn’t actually answer the question in a big AHA! way, but it is the only interview I’ve seen about Wish from Moore besides the red carpet clip.

On December 15th, Moore gave this interview with the San Antonio Current.

I stumbled across it while searching for a different piece of information and eagerly clicked to see what she had to say after three weeks of silence after the movie dropped on November 22.

Here are some highlights:

-In high school she was a theater kid and thought she wanted to pursue acting. 

-I college she did playwriting and eventually she got her MFA from Iowa (which has a weirdly great MFA program btw, and also, this interview is how I confirmed she was the playwright Allison).

-When she started on the theater track at her college, she told them she was a playwright so she could study that too even though she’d never written a play before. So it sounds like Wish isn’t the first time she’s just jumped into a new thing without experience. You have to respect the hustle.

But this is the most important line in the interview because it’s like, an answer and a non-answer all in one. She’s asked, “How did you go from writing plays to writing for TV and film?”

And her answer is, “I had a whole career writing for theater, and then when my son was born, I realized I needed to make more money, so I started pitching for TV. I worked in television for about a decade. In the midst of working in TV, I continued playwriting. That's how I got on the radar at Disney.”

Which kind of sidesteps the most intriguing part of the question? Like, first of all, it’s not 100% clear if she means her playwriting or her TV writing caught Disney’s attention. I’m guessing playwriting, but I could be wrong. Secondly, who is “Disney” in this situation? A Disney recruiter? A Disney director? Did Jennifer Lee see a production of Slasher: A Horrifying comedy while passing through Texas and think, “Her. I want her to be my co-writer on this children’s film.” And what did she do to impress them so much that they right away put her on the the *Anniversary Project*? Like, I know I keep harping on this but I can’t stress enough how big of a deal this is. It’s hard enough to write for just your average sitcom or little movie. To just jump on something this big is baffling. I obviously don’t expect Disney to be justifying their every hiring decision publicly but, usually, when someone is doing something like this, it’s very obvious why they were chosen and, even with this sliver of explanation, it’s still frustratingly opaque. And with the strange post hoc timing of the interview (seriously, doesn’t promotion usually happen PRE movie release?) It almost reads like an interview that exists because someone realized the lack of any online presence was weird. 

(5) When she was a kid, Allison Moore had a crush on Fox Robin Hood. That’s not at all important to the mystery, that’s just information she volunteered during the interview and that I’m now sharing with you. So when you search her name now, the top results are me wondering who she is, her IMDB, and her talking about how she liked Fox Robin Hood's little hat. Which isn't a LOT of information, but it’s more than we had before and that’s something.  

[asaka-lucy-dr-rc]

What's your reaction to "The Hundred Line: Last Defense Academy" announcement trailer?

Sorry for the late answer! I'm glad you asked, because it's exactly what I wanted to talk about.

First of all, the timing of the announcement was not surprising to me, as Kodaka had given the impression on his X account that they would be announcing a new title soon, and when the trailer started on the Nintendo Direct, I immediately realized that this was the title he had been talking about all along.

However, I was surprised that it was a "school" story after all, and I thought again that the content of Danganronpa V3 was full of what they wanted to do. When I finished DRV3, I think it had a lot of different elements in a good way, but at the same time, it felt chaotic. I got the feeling that they no longer hesitated to cram in various elements without explaining anything. For example, there's no reason in Shuichi suddenly driving during the trial, there's no reason in the cornered criminal suddenly doing something like cosplay, and even though Tsumugi explained it's all Danganronpa cosplay in the final trial, there are facilities (such as the casino and the love hotel) that don't exist in Danganronpa. I know the reason for the various inconsistencies in the whole thing is that there are some lies hidden somewhere, but I think originally each of those elements was something they wanted to do more deeply. I also felt that when I played RAIN CODE,  I felt that the Reasoning Death Matches were a totally improved version of the Argument Armament in V3, and the fact that the protagonist is a detective and the idea that solving mysteries can sometimes lead to misfortune is similar to V3 as well. Going back to The Hundred Line, the setting of this school is very similar to V3. Thus my first impression of the announcement trailer was that what they wanted to do had not changed much since V3. 

By the way, the school uniform is similar to the Amaterasu Corporation uniform from RAIN CODE, and Shinigami and SIREI are clearly similar, so it seems like they're not hesitating to repeat what they've done before, but Kodaka says they've packed in what they want to do in this game, so I think it's good that their direction is consistent. 

Well, to be honest, I'm a little confused right now. Although I don't have such an opinion, there were a lot of people in RAIN CODE reviews and X comments who said that if they wanted to make a game that was so similar to Danganronpa, they should have just made a sequel to Danganronpa. I thought maybe they wanted to make a more free-form game and break out of that mold, but in the end, the main characters of The Hundred Line are students and can't leave school, so I'm starting to think that maybe they wanted to make Danganronpa-like game after all, and that confuses me. But I also think it could be that they're trying to trick their fans into thinking that, so maybe it's right to think that way (in other words, just like they hoped 😄).

In any case, I have already decided to buy this game. I'm not sure what it will be like, but at least it was announced that Masafumi Takada is the audio director, so I'll definitely buy it because I'll definitely be able to listen to his new song, which is worth it to me. Of course, I'm also looking forward to the art of Rui Komatsuzaki and Shimadoriru! I'm just happy to be able to see their new art. 😊✨

The way I'm talking may make it seem like I don't have high expectations for Kodaka's scenario, but I don't really know what kind of scenarios Uchikoshi writes, and also Kodaka said in an interview that he hired a new writer for this title, so I lowered my expectations a bit. 

So if anyone reading this is planning to buy The Hundred Line, let's look forward to its release together! 🙌

Thank you for asking! 💖

[thislovintime]

The Monkees, 1965.

“‘I was the dummy’ on the show, laughs Tork […]. [When he left The Monkees] he felt burned by his experience, with the show and chose, for a decade, to leave the past behind. Now Tork has a more charitable outlook on the series that catapulted him and his three cohorts to instant fame. His bitterness stemmed from ‘how much I took to heart the kinds of criticism leveled against The Monkees. There’s no school for rock stars. Nobody tells you what to take to heart. When criticisms comes from all sides, you think it’s coming from a monolith source,’ said Tork […]. ‘For a long time I felt unworthy of the success. But then I said I had been picked out of a crowd of 400 — there must have been a reason.’ […] Although Tork ‘loved’ doing the show, he says the price was a loss of privacy. […] So what kind of dreams does a man who finds relative anonymity a ‘welcome relief’ have for his new band? ‘Not much. Just adulation from millions, untold wealth and cookouts on weekends with my family,’ he deadpanned. ‘Are you getting all this down?’” - article by Jocelyn McClurg, Hartford Courant, February 26, 1982

“When he was nine years old, Peter Tork’s parents bought him a piano for $15. He taught himself to play and to read music. But then his parents delivered an ultimatum: either take piano lessons or don’t touch the piano again. Fourteen years later, Tork’s musical skills landed him quite a job. For three years, Tork was a member of the Monkees, one of the most popular bands of the ‘60s. […] In a telephone interview this week, Tork explained why he left the group in 1968, three years after it was formed. ‘Musicians were being auditioned in an effort to create the Monkees, and the purpose was to reap money,’ he said. ‘But for our first two albums, studio musicians were hired to do the instrumentals and we just did the lead singing. I didn’t want that.’ Tork convinced the other three members, Davy Jones, [Micky] Dolenz and Mike Nesmith, to do the third album themselves. ‘But I couldn’t get the guys to go for that again, so the fourth album was half and half,’ he said. Critics had frowned on the Monkees for this. ‘Every single malcontent felt he had the right to tell me what was wrong with the situation. I took the critics to heart,’ Tork said. ‘When I talked to the guys about it, they told me if I want more I should get my own act.’ Tork describes his current relationship with Jones, Dolenz and Nesmith as ‘cordial.’ ‘I learned to put all my bitterness behind me,’ he said. ‘I hear about them through the grapevine, but we have no real call to talk to each other, although, I had a brief lunch with Davy Jones in Japan recently.’ When Tork joined the Monkees in October 1965, he was 23 years old and inexperienced in handling fame and fortune. ‘There’s a lot of things involved with money and recognition, and the price was much higher than I expected,’ he said. ‘There’s an isolating pressure that goes along with success. I couldn’t handle it.’ After he left the Monkees, Tork did some solo work for a while and taught at secondary schools in Los Angeles [Read more about Peter's time teaching here.]. ‘I developed a better reality system as a teacher,’ he said. ‘I discovered that there were the same kind of power-hungry personalities in education as in entertainment. I thought I was getting out of all that but I realized that I can’t escape from reality.’ Tork laughed in the easy, carefree way which seems to be so characteristic. ‘It’s amazing how thrilling life has gotten now that I’ve learned how to live it,’ he said. ‘There are two kinds of pain — the pain from growing up and the pain from refusing to grow at all.’ Tork now does his living and growing in Venice, Calif., with his wife, niece, 12-year-old daughter, 6-year-old son and ‘terminally epileptic’ dog. ‘I really love to entertain,’ he said. ‘Not a day goes by when I don’t think about music. I’ll never leave the industry again.’
 Then he laughed. ‘But you never can tell,’ he said. ‘Maybe some day I’ll become a serious and adept politician.’ Doesn’t seem likely, though.” - article by Lisa Stenza, Connecticut Daily Campus, February 26, 1982

[saltygilmores]

The Many Loves of Rory Gilmore (Yet Another Old Interview With Milo)

Stars Hollow may be a small town, but Rory Gilmore has managed to find two boys to tickle her fancy. There's Dean, Rory's sweet boyfriend. And this season a new boy has caught Rory's attention. Ever since Luke's nephew, Jess, sauntered into town, we knew there might be trouble.

This month, in our continuing look at the many loves of Rory Gilmore, we turn our eye to Milo Ventimiglia. The 24-year-old actor plays Jess, the troublemaker we just know has a heart of gold.

Fans may be unsure about whom they would like to see Rory end up with and the actor is equally uncertain. When asked why he thinks Jess is the better guy for Rory, he replied, "I'm hesitant to answer that. I bring things out of Rory that Dean can't. Dean has given her things that Jess can't offer Rory. Jess and Rory might work it out and just end up the best of friends."

Rory wasn't the only one who was quickly smitten with Ventimiglia's charm. When he first auditioned for the role, the character was slated to only be a guest star. But then he met series creator Amy Sherman-Palladino and she told him, "We want you for two years."

In fact, Ventimigilia was hired so quickly that "they didn't have a name for my character." "They didn't know where he was from," Ventimiglia said in a recent phone interview. "All they knew was that he was Luke's nephew and that he was a troublemaker. From March to September [of 2001] I really didn't know much. When I finally got my first script, I was giggling like a little girl. Everything coincided with what I created in my head."

The actor, who starred in the short-lived Fox comedy "Opposite Sex" and can currently be seen in a PT Cruiser commercial, wanted to act ever since he was young. "I knew when I was a kid that I wanted to be an actor. When my parents asked me if I wanted to try to break into the business, I always said no. I wanted to wait. I didn't want to leave school, leave sports." But that didn't stop him from performing. Every Friday night, he and his parents would act out plays.

Ventimigilia doesn't have too much in common with his television alter-ego. For one thing, he was a very good kid. "Teachers liked me, parents liked me," he explained. When his friends wanted to do something, all they had to say was "I'll be with Milo" and they were good to go. "The only thing I have in common with Jess is that we both always have a book in our back pocket. We both like to read. My best friend in high school, he was a troublemaker. I'm basing the character on his antics."

But Ventimiglia is still getting to know his character and understand what makes him tick. "I would love to figure out why this kid is so uneasy. He talked about his mom not having him come home for Christmas, but I feel like there's something more to that. He seems unaffected by it, but I'd like to dig a little deeper."

He's also starting to get recognized. The day after his first Gilmore Girls episode aired, a girl approached at his gym and asked "Are you on Gilmore Girls?" When he said "yes," she exclaimed, "Oh my God. I hate you." One time he and Alexis Bledel (Rory) went to the movies. "People really flocked to her and asked me what books I was reading," Ventimiglia said. "It's kind of bizarre, people equate your character with you as a person."

Recently Bledel, Ventimiglia and Liza Weil (Paris Geller) all went to see a taping of "Friends." He loved watching David Schwimmer direct an episode of the popular NBC sitcom. "I'm dying to get on the other side of production. There are lots of talented directors. Some are good with camera and not with actors. Some good with actors and not with camera. I would like to combine the two."

What was it like to join the critically acclaimed series in its second season? "I definitely felt like the new kid. They were all especially gracious and kind. But they had a history. It's like going to a new high school. It's really an incredible environment. They're great people on and off the set. I can only be as good as the people around me and people around me are amazing. Scott Patterson (Luke) is really funny. He makes things very comfortable for me and I feel free to explore this character. Alexis does the same thing."

One thing Ventimiglia is sure of is that he's keeping his lengthy last name. "I had a non-union agent when I was 16 years old. He wanted me to shorten my name to Venti." Ventimiglia was so outraged that he thought about adding his middle name (Anthony) to annoy his agent. "It's my name. I'm not changing it."

[dragonbstoned]

Okay, so I know that this is INCREDIBLY long, but *please* read to the end. Everything is such a wreck that I have no options but to essentially beg for help.

This isn't just long but also kind of complicated to explain, but I'm not going to simply accept possible assistance from complete without giving the full scope of the situation. Honestly, it's next to impossible to understand how it ended up here without the full story anyway.

Literally everything this year has gotten progressively worse the longer it's dragged on and I'm so desperate that I don't know what the fuck to do anymore... I'm fucking broken and out of ideas. I hate asking for help, but I'm literally out of options, and reaching out on other platforms/to the community I've grown up in has been completely useless...

Currently, I'm struggling to just be able to *survive* and at risk of being homeless, which is made even worse by my partner and our cat (who is on a prescription diet and we'd already cut back significantly to make sure he was properly taken care of leading up to this) are in the same boat... I'm disabled and *can't* work while also waiting on my appeal for rejection to be examined by an actual person. It's been over a year since the rejection and subsequent appeal. If that wasn't enough, my partner has been searching for a job for the entirety of the year, especially since their unemployment ran out, but NO ONE is hiring. This isn't an exaggeration either. They've gone on sites, put in applications, and made calls only to be told that they aren't *actually* hiring. They've even gone on interviews that have gone nowhere. They've tried *everything*, working on applications and making calls to follow up on them literally every single day for MONTHS, and it's been useless so far. This is NOT due to a lack of effort. I've seen firsthand how much it's wrecked them, and it even caused *significant* strain on our relationship a few months ago.

They haven't stopped looking for a job either. It just *isn't* happening, and this is where things start to REALLY go downhill...

The man who tries to call himself my father recently received some financial assistance from his parents due to him being out of a job from his own negligence, with the intention of it being for MY rent (this was explicitly mentioned and the funds were offered due to that), only for him to turn around and immediately steal the majority of the money to waste on himself. (About 1200 bucks, 2k was sent, I only ever saw a quarter of it.) He essentially used it to pay off something that was NOT necessary and the only reason I can say it SO definitively is because I've been the one budgeting money for him for the last decade because, despite him being a nearly 57 year old man, he has no idea how to and never has. It genuinely feels as if he intentionally refuses to learn as well. Everyone around him has tried, for 34 years (on the part of my mother anyway), and it's never gone well. To give you a better idea, this man actively REFUSED to apply for unemployment when I was a child, and my mother had to be the one to do this. It's also not the first time he's tried to get out of paying for something he's responsible for/committed to of his own free will.

He's been lording my partner's lack of a job over their head for MONTHS now despite being the one to tell us not to worry about their half of the rent and that he'd cover it for as long as it was needed. To his credit, he did follow through on this until he also lost his job, which was, again, due to his own negligence. During the earlier portion of this period of uncertainty, our bank also suffered a ransomware attack that left us incapable of tracking our finances for the better part of a month. My biological paternal donor also told me that I should simply keep using my own card despite not being able to transfer funds into the account during this... which left me with about $1500 in debt and forced me to take out an emergency personal loan in order to prevent my account from being closed down. He'd promised that he would handle the full thing when he was capable of doing so, only to immediately blame me for the position he forced me into accepting.

On top of that, we've recently learned he's essentially completely fabricated almost every aspect of his life for as long as I've been alive. This has caused a number of issues, the main one being that I've been forced to cut him off as he's turned verbally, mentally, and emotionally abusive towards me for no reason. It's gotten so bad that I actually ended up blocking him on everything so that I could focus on trying to keep my partner and I housed.

I've been working on trying to fix it, but I'm currently behind on rent as I've been incapable of paying this month (November) and most certainly will not have the ability to do so on the first to keep us here another month. We pay 1k per month for a 12'x12' room in a rather hostile house. We've been attempting to leave since before my partner was released from their last job during a probationary period. They got some holiday work at the end of last year, but clearly, it wasn't going to help us out long-term. And as I've said, they've been unable to find a job since.

As if all of THAT wasn't bad enough, my partner's phone incredibly damaged, but now it's gotten far worse to the point that their lock/power button is no longer functioning properly. Their phone has had issues for months, but we haven't been able to afford to replace it as we've been more focused on keeping a roof over our heads... I'm able to get them a new one through our phone plan where we can pay it off monthly. However, we can't even afford the tax on the new device in order for me to do that. I've tried to find a way to make it happen but now it's completely unavoidable. If they don't have a phone, they'll have even less capability of finding a job as they won't be able to contact or be contacted by possible employers.

Honestly, I don't even know how much we need, I'm at the point of taking anything we can get in terms of assistance... Both of us are already getting our respective assistance from the county, but it doesn't really solve the housing problem, so we need to figure out how to get as much of our rent/bills paid as soon as possible because we're due to get an eviction notice at pretty much any moment. There is nowhere else for us to go currently as we still haven't been paired up with our housing navigation specialist through the county so fighting tooth and nail to stay here is literally our ONLY option right now.

I'm going to drop payment handles/links below... I know that this has been a lot to read, and if you stuck it out to the end, thank you so much. Even if you can't help financially, I would appreciate it if you could at least share this around and boost it to as many people as possible... We just need any form of help we can get at this point.

The following are the payment options that I have access to currently, I haven't set up a gofundme or anything (as they do take a portion of the money) and I just *can't* afford to have that happen right now as we've been counting literal pennies for months. I will not provide my Zelle as that is incredibly sensitive information, and I'm not comfortable putting that out there as it could fuck me over financially or even reveal information that I've worked very hard to keep private from certain people who will abuse it. (Please forgive the PayPal username not matching. It's an incredibly old account, and I no longer use the handle for my other profiles or accounts in any way.)

CashApp: https://cash.app/$dragonbstoned

Paypal: https://www.paypal.me/DragonChild42

Venmo: https://venmo.com/code?user_id=2835216225796096270&created=1731911514

Again, I understand if people aren't able to help financially, but PLEASE share this to boost it as much as possible. I'm just incredibly desperate and lost as to the possible solutions here.