#we're all gonna have to make peace with that

[entertext]

HGSN 33-2

Chapter (Japanese)

(Please hit the green thumbs up at the end of the Japanese chapter to show support)

Rough translation by me

P1

Asako: The hamster's scared...

Tanaka: Ah... She's very sensitive, so this place must be rough for her...

(sfx: rattle)

P2

(sfx: whoosh)

(sfx: thwack!)

(sfx: thwack!)

(sfx: thwack!)

(sfx: thwack!)

Asako: What's that?

Tanaka: A barrier. It's only for our peace of mind though

P2

Tanaka: What we are going to do now is negotiate with the impurity in this house to close the hole for us

Tanaka: The original resident of this house seemed to have...enshrined something here. So it should still be inside.

Asako: If we negotiate, will it actually close the hole for us?

(sfx: stick)

Asako: Ah! Whoa! What's that?

P4

Tanaka: A threat towards the impurity

Asako: A threat...

Tanaka: Well, I'm sure it won't go easily. This isn't an exorcism, it's only an equal trade.

Tanaka: Since you're here, we can communicate. That'll make things a bit easier

Tanaka: Our voices will reach the impurities, so all you have to do is interpret what the impurity is saying

(sfx: nod nod)

P5

Asako: Um...Mister, are you always doing such dangerous stuff? You aren't a medium or anything, right?

Asako: Then, who exactly are you...?

Tanaka: Mm...I wonder...

Tanaka: The employee of an exploitative company,...I guess... Hahaha

Asako: Wah...

P6

(sfx: taiko drums)

(sfx: rushing water)

--

P7

Maki: Gn...Ah...

Yoshiki: Maki!!

Maki: Huh?

Rie: Are you alright!?

-

Maki: What? I'm still in danger?

Maki: And I took cleaning the shrine seriously too!

Rie: Maki-kun, listen carefully.

P8

Rie: We're going to do something about the origin of the "legs", but when that happens, Maki-kun, you might be pulled towards it too.

Rie: I'll protect you, but be prepared.

Hikaru: Me and him are gonna do something about the source, so all you have to do is last through the night

Maki: You guys are talking like psychics or something all of a sudden...and it feels like something about you guys has changed? ...well, no matter

Maki: I'll give you this

P9

Hikaru: Oh, good

Maki: It's an amulet from my grandpa.

Yoshiki: A white rope?

Maki: It's made with the rare fur of a serow

Maki: Apparently if you have it, the serow will come help you out. Just in case, I've been carrying it around everyday.

Yoshiki: Is it really okay? To borrow something that seems so important...

Maki: I mean, this is about all I can actually do, you know? (haha)

Maki: And I just had the weirdest dream...I've got a bad feeling about this.

==

Extra (link):

Q. Aren't there a lot of people who can sense spirits in this area?

A. It's because spiritual senses are inherited.

It's possible that the people who can sense spirits in this area are all descended from the same ancestor.

Hikaru: Huh! Is that also the reason there's so many people with naturally curly hair?

When it's the impurity that's making contact, ordinary people like Yoshiki will also see them.

==

T/N: The text of the talisman on Asako's head seems to be a "counter-sorcery" incantation from a Chinese Buddhist text called the Foshuo zhoumei jing (佛説咒魅經).

Unfortunately, I couldn't really find any accessible English translation or much more info on it online, so I'll just leave it at that.

[thelonestarinthesky]

¹. ....ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ⁱˢ

⁺₊✦₊　

pairing: senku x f!reader

chapter 1 of 2/2-i.senku series

a/n: the next chapters are gonna be flashbacks until the story is back to the present!!

⁺₊✦₊　　

Standing in the village cemetery among the gravestones, Ruri and Senku shared a moment of quiet reflection. "I wanted to ask; the reason you requested a divorce immediately after becoming chief is that you already have someone waiting for you, right?" she asked softly.

"She was mentioned in the hundredth tale," Senku replied, his hand twitching at the thought. "Correct?" Ruri's silence answered this.

"That's right. I'm not surprised my father included her in the hundredth tale; he was rather fond of her." Ruri noticed how tense he became at the mention of this girl.

"... You didn't say a word about her when I became chief. The rules stated that to participate in the Grand Bout, you needed to be over 14 and unmarried," he pointed out.

The blonde girl smiled knowingly. "I thought it was best to leave out that small detail," she chuckled, glancing up at the stars. "... That you already have a wife."

Senku looked at her in disbelief. "I don't—" He paused, then sighed. "... Yes, I have a wife," he admitted, though it sounded forced. "You mentioned that she's in the hundredth tale; what is her story?"

"Sleeping Beauty," Ruri began, prompting a visible cringe from Senku. 'Of course, my old man would think of something like that,' he thought.

"Before the princess became Sleeping Beauty, she lived a peaceful life. She had family, friends, and a lover. But at the age of 16, her health deteriorated. She was supposed to get better, but one day, she fell asleep and never woke up. To this day, she remains in that deep slumber, waiting for her lover," Ruri concluded. "This story is exactly meant to teach survival skills, don't ignore a hit to your head even if you think it's nothing serious because it could be more serious in the end."

A silence settled between them before Senku looked up at the night sky, a breeze swaying them slightly. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to keep this between us."

"Of course," the priestess replied, smiling softly. "If that's what you want."

"[Name]—that's what her name is. She's my lover. We've known each other since childhood, long before the world turned to stone. Love is illogical, yet..."

His eyes began to well up with tears, but he blinked them away. "I'm going to bring her back once the Kingdom of Science is stable enough for her," he said, determination in his voice, grinning. "That's the least I can do for her."

"I look forward to meeting her," Ruri said with a warm smile. "You'll love her; I'm a billion percent sure," Senku added quietly.

__________

"Come on, Senku. We're going to see an old friend of mine," Byakuya urged as he tried to coax a young Senku out of his room. "You've been reading all day. My friend has a daughter your age!"

Somehow, Byakuya managed to get Senku out of the house and into his car. They drove off and soon arrived at a large gated mansion, where Senku saw men unloading furniture from trucks.

"Old man, is your friend loaded?" Senku asked, curiosity piqued.

"He's the CEO of a company that makes advanced machines." This caught Senku's interest significantly. Byakuya was let in by the guard at the gates, and he parked the car. As soon as the car was turned off, Senku bolted out.

The little boy ran over to where a man stood, giving orders to the workers carrying out furniture. "Where are the machines?!" Senku exclaimed, excitement bubbling over as Byakuya hurried behind him.

"Sorry, friend. This is Senku, my son," Byakuya said, guiding Senku to stop being rude and properly introduce himself. "This is the little guy I've been talking about. He's a year younger than your daughter, so we should be able to arrange a playdate."

"No way," Senku replied bluntly. "I don't want a stupid playdate. I want to see the machines you make." The red-eyed boy said to the man, who smiled down at him, intrigued.

"He's just as you described, Byakuya," the man chuckled, patting Senku on the head. "My daughter will definitely get along with him. Young man, if you want to see those machines, I’ll make you a deal."

Senku pouted at this. "A playdate with my adorable daughter. I think it would benefit you if he got along with the heir to my company."

"Deal," the green-haired boy said, a bit annoyed, but willing to do anything to see how those machines worked.

"...I don't think you should be encouraging him," Byakuya remarked, sweat dripping down his forehead as he noted Senku's determined expression.

"One playdate, and that's it," the little boy declared, grinning up at the man, who simply smiled back. Senku couldn't help but think how easy this was going to be; soon, he'd have access to the most advanced technology Japan had to offer. With his hands on his hips and a proud grin on his face, he said, "Alright, where's the little brat? I need to meet her."

masterlist taglist- @frootloopscos

if you want to be in the taglist, please comment on the series Masterlist so I can keep track!!

[sugarpopss]

November 30th, 1942

This is very much inspired by that post thats like 'remember how Bucky said he enlisted so Steve wouldn't worry about him'. I just couldn't stop thinking about Bucky getting his draft letter and being so worried about people worrying about him. This draws heavily from the lore developed in the chat with @bucknastysbabe , inculding but not limited to: Rebeccas food thing, George Barnes the WWI vet who died from a medical problem caused by his time in the amry, Steve and Rebecca being close, Ma Barnes being one of the kindest people in the world and a midwestern girlie...etc etc. Sources for the bits of research I did for this fic are here and here.

November 30th, 1942

In 1942, on the Monday after Thanksgiving, Bucky got a letter. He saw it when he got home from the docks, slightly crumpled between Rebecca’s algebra and geography books on the kitchen counter. It had gotten a little damp in the mailing process and was stuck to the front of a letter to his mother, from her own mother back in Iowa. He didn’t think too much of it-he was too exhausted to think much of anything. Unloading crates from ships was far from the worst work in the world, but it sure did zap his energy and fill his sinuses with dust and dirt and smoke. Some of the old timers-guys who claimed to remember striking for a 5 cent raise-liked to joke that pretty soon ‘pretty boy Barnes’ would get to know the sort of back pain that went hand-in-hand with a lifetime of hauling cargo, and that would trump exhaustion every time. 

Bucky always laughed it off. They were just joking around, and he’d take any ache in the world if it meant being able to take care of his family, anyway. Even if his Ma kept bringing up trade schools that weren’t too far or too expensive, and Steve was champing at the bit to join the military, Bucky was fine right where he was. He was just fine in the apartment he grew up in, working hard, flirting with the girls running telegrams in the harbormaster's office, walking Rebecca home from school when he got off in time. He got fantasy novels from the library with Clark Gable knights and Lana Turner princesses on the covers; He boxed on the weekends and was always a good sport; He caught Rebecca in the short hallway connecting their bedrooms every morning and gave her a noogie; He went to the cinema with Steve when they both had a little change in their pockets and flicked popcorn kernels at each other like they were kids. 

All that to say-Bucky was doing perfectly fine. He wasn’t raring to make a name for himself or see some great bloody glory. He definitely wasn’t interested in signing up for the war. The picture of his father on the mantel, clean shaven in an army uniform from twenty years ago, kicked the sense back into him whenever he thought about it. If the photograph of the man Bucky could barely remember didn’t work, the urn next to it surely did. 

And all of these things were reasons why, when he unstuck the damp mail from his sisters schoolbooks, the bottom just about dropped out of his stomach. The ink was a little smeared from getting wet, but still perfectly legible: for him, with the selective service system logo stamped right on the front. 

It was like the entire apartment tilted, rocked like a seesaw and threw him completely off balance. Without even thinking, Bucky stuffed the letter into his pocket. He didn’t want to look at it, think about it, deal with it. Whatever it said-as if there was any question as to its contents-he would worry about later. Preferably not standing in the middle of the kitchen in his grimy work clothes, whale eyed and frightfully pale.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The letter remained stuffed deep in Buckys pocket until after supper. Bathed, comfortably full and bone deep tired, he was usually out like a light after working a full day. But instead of passing out underneath the quilt-a gift from the elderly widow two floors up, after he’d spent the summer of ‘35 bringing up her mail and groceries and painting over the water damage on her kitchen ceiling-he fished the letter out from the pants strewn on the floor and just…held it. Looked at it. Turned it over, looked at where his address had been smudged a little by the damp. It was definitely for him; no mistake there. His full name was right there on the address line, middle initial and everything. 

Maybe it was completely mundane! Every guy had to sign up for selective service-tons of them probably got letters about misspelled words or unchecked boxes. Maybe he’d written something down incorrectly back when he had filled out the forms. 18-year-olds were stupid, after all, and he probably hadn’t been paying that much attention to the information he was putting down. That was most likely it; He’d put his birthday down as October 3rd instead of March 10th by accident, or initialed something that was supposed to be a signature or vice versa. So what if it’d been four years since he filled out that paperwork? Tiny errors like that were probably pretty low priority for the selective service, especially after America joined the war. 

He was just going to open the letter and see what they needed him to fix or resign. 

He opened the letter. He read it once, then twice, then three times. 

There was no problem with the paperwork he’d filled out at 18. 

He didn’t need to resign any forms or recheck any boxes.  

He did need to report to the local selective service board the following Tuesday. 

Oh. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. 

Buckys first thought wasn’t ‘I don’t want to join the military’. It wasn’t even ‘I’m scared’. Buckys very first thought was for his family. He couldn’t be in the military! He was an important part of the household! The Barnes had only recently edged back into a relatively comfortable financial situation because of the combined incomes Bucky and his Ma brought in, and someone had to be around to look after Rebecca-as much as she’d protest and whine that she was 16, she didn’t need to be looked after-when their Ma couldn’t. Someone needed to haul Steve out of fights and into dance halls, because yes, Steve was as good as family, would’ve been even if Rebecca hadn’t declared he had ‘adopted brother rights’ years ago. 

Buckys second thought was ‘I don’t want to join the military’, because he didn’t. He’d never wanted to, never even seriously entertained the idea. There had already been a Barnes man in a war and it had destroyed him; robbed a good man of his peace and his health, robbed Buckys mother of a husband and himself and Rebecca of a father. Hell, Rebecca had never even met their father-he had died two months before she was born. A couple of old photographs, a ceramic urn, and a watch and wedding band with no hand to wear them were all she knew of the man. 

It made Buckys stomach turn to think about leaving his family for the thing that had put his father in the grave before 40. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning he started to think. He couldn’t tell his Ma he’d been drafted-he certainly couldn’t tell Rebecca or Steve. They’d all worry too much for him. The downside to having loved ones was that as much as you loved them, they also loved you. And loving someone meant worrying for them when they were about to get scooped out of their life with less than a months notice. 

It’d be less worrying if he'd just enlisted, if he had made a choice, even a rash, ill-advised one. At least that would imply he had some sort of excitement or confidence in joining the military. At least that would imply that he was ready, that nobody needed to worry about him because Bucky himself wasn’t worried or scared or hesitant. 

That was the thought that he chewed on all day. Chewed on it so much, in fact, that he barely chewed anything else, including his supper. And that was strange behavior for Bucky. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Rebecca had asked him. It sounded incredibly blunt, but to be entirely fair, she had first made a frantic gesture towards the peas on her plate with her head-because Rebecca was not eating peas that week, and if she could switch their plates without their Ma noticing she could avoid a stern look and a ‘clean plates club’ lecture-and then kicked him under the table when her head tossing got no response. 

Their Ma was looking at him, too. If there was one thing the Barnes siblings were, it was chatty, and although Rebecca had been blathering on about how a girl in her geography class had gotten in trouble for wearing lipstick, Bucky had been almost entirely silent. And he’d barely touched his food even though he wasn’t on the same legume strike as his sister. 

He shrugged, trying to play it cool, casual and calm. He took a bite of his food-the peas were fine even if they came from a can, because their Ma was an excellent cook. Rebecca was just weird about food sometimes-to give himself time to think. 

He settled on “I can’t walk you home next week.” 

Rebecca sighed in that ‘God, you’re all so uptight and dramatic’ way that teenagers do. “I don’t need you to walk me home. I’m not a kid, I know how to get home from school.” 

Their Ma gave him another curious look, though. “Did you make plans?” she asked. “With Steve? With a girl?”

She didn’t sound upset, just…curious. It was odd, after all, for Bucky to not want to walk Rebecca home. He tried very hard to align his hours at the docks with her school schedule. It was important to him, to make sure she was safe and that nobody bothered her. 

“Sort of.” He replied. 

He knew that wasn’t a very good answer, and his Mas face reflected it. He’d never in one million years chose some dame over his sister, and Steve was as good as Rebeccas second brother. He was more likely to just join in on the walk than make plans over it. Hell, half of the time they did things as a trio-things like pooling Christmas and birthday money to go to Coney Island, an outing upon which the then teen boys had ridden the Cyclone, Steve had vomited into a public trash can, and Rebecca had proven that she was somehow remarkable at darts despite never having played before in her life. 

His Ma raised her eyebrow. God, he was bad at lying, bad at keeping secrets, bad at misleading people. 

“I-” He met his Mas eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, steeled himself. “It’ll be a few days next week, actually. I enlisted and I’m reporting to induction on Tuesday.” 

The world didn’t end once he said it. A small part of him-the part that reminded Bucky he hadn’t lied to his Ma since he was 17 and she asked if he had cigarettes in his bedroom, and even then he’d come clean about two hours later-had expected something huge and dramatic to happen. Maybe both his mother and sister would drop their forks and snap their heads up, maybe a police siren or fire alarm would go off somewhere nearby, maybe lightning would strike the building. 

But none of that happened. Rebecca continued pushing her food around her plate. “No you didn’t.” She scoffed.

Their Ma didn’t dismiss his statement as a joke, but her expression was difficult to read. “You did?” She asked, her voice stern and level. 

Bucky kept going. In for a penny, in for a pound. “I was just thinking about it and it seemed like a good idea. I stopped at the recruiting center last week. I…” 

He trailed off. This wasn’t a perfectly thought through lie, but it felt like a necessary one. 

“Yeah.”

Rebeccas fork actually did clatter to her plate once he finished talking. She looked up at her brother, agape with bright pink spots at the high points of her cheeks. 

“You’re fucking joking! You can’t just leave!” 

“Rebecca Grace!” Their Ma snapped, though it was clear that her heart wasn’t in it. 

Rebecca shot up from the table, her eyes-bright blue like Buckys, like their late fathers-welling up with tears. “No! You can’t leave, that’s not fair!” 

With that she stormed off, the slam of her bedroom door in the small apartment sounding like a gunshot. 

Bucky swallowed and looked down at his food. He wasn’t hungry anymore. 

“James.” 

He looked up at his Ma. Guilt immediately began to eat at him. Guilt for the lie, guilt for having to leave them, guilt for everything his Ma had been through and would go through in the future. 

“What branch?” 

He swallowed again. The guilt was crawling up his throat like vomit. He wanted to admit it was a lie, to say he was scared and didn’t want to go and didn’t know what to do. But there was nothing to be done. All he could do was help the people who loved him to not worry so much. 

“Army. Like dad.” 

She raised her eyebrows. They barely ever spoke about George Barnes military career. Not to say that they never spoke about Bucky and Rebeccas father at all-he’d been the love of their Mas life, she had plenty of stories about him. But they didn’t talk about his time in Europe. Bucky had always gotten the impression that his father hadn’t spoken much about his time in Europe when he was still alive, anyway. 

“Your father was drafted. He didn’t choose the army.” 

He shrugged. 

She sighed and put her fork down, picked it back up, put it down again. 

“I don’t-” She sighed again. “I can’t tell you what to do. You’re a grown man and you get to make your own choices.” 

Bucky didn’t feel like a grown man at that moment. He felt like a little boy trying to convince his mother that he wasn’t afraid of the dark. 

“Do you genuinely want to join the military?”  

The earnest concern in the question was what broke him. He took a very deep breath and met his Mas eyes, blue on brown. She had asked like there was any changing it. Even if he had voluntarily enlisted, he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it after the fact. 

“No. I-I…the letter came yesterday and I have to go on Tuesday and I-.” Bucky cut himself off, feeling something far too much like tears in his eyes, something far too much like a sob beginning to choke up his throat. 

“Jamie, sweetheart…” She stood from the table and opened her arms to him, a hug that he gladly accepted. Three inches taller than his mother or not, 22 years old or not, there was nothing more comforting than his Mas embrace. 

“It’ll be alright, Jamie.” 

By god, he hoped so. 

[cultivating-wildflowers]

ladies, I need to wander despondently across a foggy moor asap

[jajanvm-imbi]

Hey remember when I said that this was the most frustrating thing about being a Helluva Boss enjoyer?

Yeah I was wrong.

The most frustrating thing about being a Helluva Boss enjoyer is explicitly stating multiple times that I like show and then get called an anti and homophobic and media illiterate when I complain about the direction it has taken.

I LIKE the comedy

I LIKE the animation and artstyle

I LIKE the more serious plotlines like the government agents plot and the Cherubs plot

I LIKE the themes of friendship and found family

I even like most of the songs!

And ofc the voice cast slays every time

But just because your show has angst and tears and drama and sad music doesn't automatically make it "good".

Just because your characters are queer doesn't automatically make them good or well written characters

This fandom is so frustrating to deal with when you want to express your more nuanced takes of it

This is probably gonna be the last post I make about this subject and about Helluva Boss in general, this shit is too stupid to deal with

[biillys]

hi au where billy and max are child stars

neil auditioning billy for a (soon-to-be) beloved family sitcom as a baby, very mary-kate and ashley vibes, maybe billy getting the role for being the only baby not to cry during the auditions, and then putting him to work from basically day dot.

his mom doing her best to run interference and make sure he gets treated right, only letting him be on set for a few hours a week and making sure either herself or neil is always with him, but the older he grows and the more screen time he gets, the more the show runners and neil try and weasel their way for more time with him.

him turning five and the show airing it's fourth season, his parents marriage being over. his mom handing neil the divorce papers and walking out, then dipping her hand into his earnings (that neil has tied up in his own name) to try and buy them a future, trying to get full custody.

the divorce being messy and drawn out and public, neil having made her out to be the villain, the fans and magazines tearing her to shreds and writing headlines trying to shame her, saying she's a heartless bitch for trying to end her own child's career just as it's starting to take off.

billy getting caught in the middle, the separation and custody battle drawing out for years, him struggling to handle the fall out of his home life coming apart at the same time as the sitcom he grew up on comes to an end.

his life being a fucking mess by the time he turns eight.

having a little bit of free time then, technically being jobless. starting to explore other hobbies and interests now that he has some time and getting more into music and sports, begging for a guitar and a surfboard for his birthday, asking neil if he can join little league.

neil promising him one better, and instead, getting him auditions for disney, telling him the only thing better than playing the guitar, is playing the guitar for disney.

turning ten and being a series regular on an already airing disney show, but the execs and directors being so impressed by him that there's talks of him getting his own show.

part of him being excited, proud, but a bigger part of him being terrified.

being so scared to tell his mom cos he knows she'll cry. she used to run her fingers through his hair to lull him to sleep, hug him close and whisper about how she never wanted this life for him, how she's so sorry.

it becoming official and him getting his own show on disney.

him getting the news exactly one week after his mom walks out for good, his dad having finally won full custody, no visitation allowed.

him feeling sick to his stomach. he never thought she'd actually leave.

he never even got to tell her his news.

it not taking long for the shine of having his own show to wear off, the few things he was excited about starting to become a hassle.

starting to resent it.

hating it.

hating the lights and the cameras and the scripts and the running lines. the early mornings and the make up and the flights and the night shoots and the interviews and the press. hating the way he's always surrounded by adults, never having had an actual friend his own age in his entire life. that all the other kids he knows are pitted to him like rivals, there being always talk about ratings and viewers and timeslots. him not knowing what a friend without it being tied up in publicity and pr.

hating the fact that he has a sister on the show, but his dad and her mom end up getting close, and suddenly he's getting a step-sister in real life.

hating the way max only has to film for x amount of hours a day because she's a kid, but he has to film for longer, and thats on top of everything else he's gotta do, very miley cyrus sharing her schedule during her hannah montana years vibes.

him becoming a household name in his younger years from the sitcom, but disney cementing his fame, him being known by what feels like the entire world by the time he's in his teens.

growing up and getting into shit, experimenting with drugs and alcohol and sex, trying to find any and every escape he can. him and max always being on the outs in private, but being the picture perfect family in public.

neil being a controlling fucker, a true momager, has kris jenner on speed dial.

rebelling in every way he can, not giving a fuck what stories or pictures of him get leaked anymore, the press and public turning against him as he gets older.

his show ending and him expecting to finally feel free, except just becos the shows over, doesn't mean anything else is. suddenly the pressure starts feeling heavier, everyone asking him what he's got lined up next, if he's gonna straighten himself out, if he's gonna finally take his career seriously.

neil riding him, telling him to forget about whatever he wants to do, and do what he tells him to do instead. him having various commitments and auditions lined up for billy already, and billy being ready to end it all.

emancipating himself at age seventeen, cutting off contact with everyone.

going off the rails and living his worst life. catching the headlines and updates of maxine mayfield: now managed by neil hargrove, and shoving down the urge to call her and tell her to run, knows she won't listen to a thing he says any way. he was nothing but an asshole and a spoilt brat no good fuck up in her eyes anyway, neil making sure they never got close.

doing his best to go down the music route, feeling physically ill at the thought of acting again, but thinking maybe music could be the answer. he always liked it better. felt more comfortable with a guitar in his hands or a piano under his fingers than cameras and lights in his face.

the music industry being just as harsh and ruthless as the entertainment industry, him not getting taken seriously by anyone he needs to be taken seriously by, everyones expectations of him being so fucking high that he knows he'll never be able to meet them.

deciding he doesn't give a fuck about anything anymore, his life's never been his own to control or have any say over anyway. signing a five year contract with a well-known label, not writing a single song of his own or playing a single instrument aside from when they want him to trot out an acoustic set, and instead singing words richer people than him wrote and performing show after show after show, flying from country to country to country, barely fucking existing. the songs becoming chart toppers, like they were written to be, and selling out stadiums.

hitting rock bottom.

getting a wake up call from max of all people, her ringing to check he's still alive. him pulling the phone away to check this is an actual call and not a hallucination. putting the phone back up to his ear, asking why she's calling.

her saying happy birthday and billy realising he's turning twenty today.

them sitting in silence for a while before max finally cracks.

her telling him his dad's an asshole. billy laughing. no shit.

them hanging up, but max calling again, a month later, then again, a few weeks after that.

billy being hungover as fuck and having no idea what country he's in, but max is in a new movie, out in cinemas now, and it's a serious drama, it's fucking emmy nominated, so he calls the front desk of whatever hotel he's staying at and asks for directions to the closest cinema and before he knows it, he's going incognito, hoodie on, and watching her on the big screen, and she's so much better at acting than he ever was.

neil must be so goddamn pleased with himself.

too bad max sounds completely miserable everytime they talk on the phone.

he calls her instead of her calling him for the first time, opening the conversation with saw your movie, how much fucking overtime did you get for all those night-shoots?

before or after your dad took his cut?

billy laughs. he can't remember the last time he laughed.

ANYWAY. i was listening to robot by miley cyrus on repeat and!!!! child stars au!!!! them both being worked to the bone!!! hating each other becos they barely know each other cos they barely know themselves!!!! getting through their childhoods battered and bruised, billy coming out the other side first, max finally catching up to him a few years later. them both, one by one, cutting their parents out!!!! max taking the big screen by storm when she grows up, neil frothing at the mouth that he can't touch her money when she cuts him out!!!! billy never signing another contract again after his record deal ends, disappearing off the face off the earth!!!! slight the lucky one by tswift vibes!!!! idk!!!!!

[jonahs-arks]

ARK Harpy AU but it's with prehistoric theropods [and some prehistoric birds and ARK creatures if they're close to what we want] :)

Me and my friend are working on it. Most of the characters have been worked out, and it's mostly just a chill slice-of-life au full of peace and love, but it's been such a fun thing to work on. I'll share sketches when I can :3

Current Characters with Current Assigned Creature Species:

Sir Edmund Rockwell - Microraptor [we thought it would be extremely funny, plus now he's quite small; and me and my friend headcanon that he loved birds and would have loved tamed Microraptors]

Helena Walker - Argentavis [because she was gifted one from Rockwell in the game, so it makes sense. She was originally gonna be an Archaeopteryx, but we decided to change it because her interactions with specific characters would have been made better with this bigger sized creature]

Gaius Marcellus Nerva - Yutyrannus [for obvious reasons, I'm sure. Plus it gives a cute, big size difference between him and Rockwell <3. And I headcanon him to really like Yutyrannus. Plus it's relevant to his backstory in this AU.]

MeiYin Li - Qianzhousaurus [not an ARK creature, I know, but it suits better than our original idea with her being a Utahraptor [which was for a Wuzui reference]. I just could not see her as a Utahraptor, so I felt that a different theropod would be better. We're gonna use more region specific creatures with future characters, because the research is fun :3]

Diana Altaras - Featherlight [cute size difference with her wives [epic polycule with MeiYin and Helena] and it makes sense for her, being from Aberration and all. Subject to change, though. Plus she'd be a great help for when our lovely, lovely feathered friends go there [which is under the Island. They are not on ARKs, but something is going to force our beloveds into a cave system which will lead to them finding the Aberrant zone. Though, this, too, is subject to change.]]

Bonus stuff in the tags for this au :]

[snekdood]

saw the other day someone say that "mary sues are for people who think everyone should treat them like they're the best ever" and buddy, trust me, at no point am i under the delusion that people will be nice to me in a normal and sufficient way. this is how i *wish* people treated me, not how I expect them to or think they should. trust me i know humanity sucks and will never be cool and nice, dont you worry, dont need to prove my point more, making me retreat even more to a fantasy world because clearly there's nothing here in humanity for me so w/e

[wreckedhoney]

"WONDERFUL SHOW TONIGHT, FORREST."

a KILLER FREQUENCY Marie Campbell/Forrest Nash ship playlist on YT

"Good to talk to you again, Forrest. You know, I've really enjoyed our chats tonight." "I guess we've had some moments."

Tracklist under the cut

Is Everybody Going Crazy? - Nothing But Thieves / The Perfect Girl - Mareux / We Don't Have To Dance - Andy Black / Night Issues (Nightcall x Daddy Issues) Mashup/Remix - FuturePastPerson / "Bassically" - Tei Shi / Cold Summer - Mareux / Diet Mountain Dew - Lana Del Rey / Destruction Of Us - Mr.Kitty / Teeth - 5 Seconds of Summer / HUSH - Ari Abdul / DTLA - Mareux / Make You Mine - Madison Beer / FEAR YOU - Kat Von D / Bad Romance - Lady Gaga / Dark All Day - GUNSHIP / Maniac (feat. Conor Mason of Nothing But Thieves) - AWOLNATION

[savage-rhi]

🫂

[du-hjarta-skulblaka]

So yeah avoiding my phone didn't work and also meant I sat on the kitchen floor staring into space for about 3 hours before Alfie woke up but hey at least I didn't break anything

Them being around is helping a little but they're also struggling and it fuckin sucks bc I know we're both just. Rotating money stress in our minds

[greyedian]

.

[phagodyke]

weekend melancholy is starting to kick in >~<

[touchd0wn-boy]

[infizero]

there is something a little sad about how desperately they all want to get everyone on yellow so they can go back to peaceful times

[blackcandlesinwinter]

The LGBTQ community would be so much healthier if we would all just... stop caring so much about words. If you truly do not like the words someone uses, please just politely ignore it and move on the way that you would if the person behind you in the check-out line audibly farted. Differences in preferred language are an unavoidable part of human communication - this will never change. Someone using a term you don't like isn't hurting you, it isn't about you, it isn't an attack on you. You don't have to like hearing it, but if you're over the age of 8, you're expected to be mature enough not to call out or chastise random strangers for farting in your vicinity, so you should be able to shut up and move on if I call myself FTM. It's just a fart, everyone does it sometimes, it won't kill you, Jesus Christ. Please have a little perspective.

don't use "ftm" it's outdated and offensive. it implies that the trans person was their agab, which we never were. i was always a boy, never a girl who became a boy.

i'm 35 years old. i've been IDing as trans or something similar to trans for nearly 20 years. i was probably calling myself FTM while you were playing tag during recess, anon.

i WAS a girl. i IDed as a girl early in my life. i recognized myself as a girl, called myself a girl, lived as a girl, and was a girl. who then IDed as a man. hence, F t M.

spend more time worrying about yourself instead of strangers on the internet, anon.

sorry not sorry if this comes off as needlessly hostile, but i've been getting a lot of shit from a lot of teenage trans kids about the language i use to describe my own goddamn experience, and i'm growing real fuckin weary of it.

i have elder trans friends who call themselves transsexuals and transvestites and trannies. are you going to seriously go to a 60-year-old trans person who survived the reagan years and tell her she's not allowed to use certain language to describe herself because it might offend the delicate sensibilities of some teenager on the internet?

do yourself a favor and log off, find some real-life trans people who are over the age of 20 or 25, and spend time talking to them instead of getting all holier-than-thou at random strangers on tumblr.