#it's slightly better?? not by much tho

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

got a little carried away with this one... outfit sent by @chocolategothwolfhorse <3

[dykedvonte]

It’s crazy how expendable all the crew members were to the Pony Express.

A 30% chance that your shipment would be lost. Cargo and crew are inseparable if we are to believe the shitty layout of the Tulpar. People use it because it’s cheap. The labor is cheap. The lives are cheap.

They are all relatively easy to forget about. It’s implied Anya and Curly don’t have many friends or much family to be concerned about them back home. She mentions nothing and no one to fall back on and he feels like wasted his life with the company. Jimmy probably only has Curly, otherwise people wouldn’t care or ask. Of course Daisuke and Swansea have family’s but Swansea thinks poorly of his and Daisuke’s poorly of him. All people in the companies eyes that wouldn’t stir up too much trouble if they became part of the 30%.

It makes it so much sadder because that ladder they were climbing was so small and shitty. There were rungs, ranks, but even the highest was barely off the ground. Jimmy wanted to reach the top of something that was brutally cut off and knocked everyone else off just to not see it.

[iceclew]

Did I accidently write more than just a few lines of dialogue for this scene?... *shyly fumbling with fingers* 🥹👉👈 maybe...

Sorry, I suck at words and this isn't betaread nor properly proofread and I am not native english, I'm very sorry in advance...

full story down below

(Chappel Roan - Love me Anyway)

(Benson Boone - Slow it Down)

"VICE-CAPTAIN!!!!"

The tiny moving plush-like thing in his hand apparently started screaming as well now.

"WHY ALWAYS MEEE!?!?"

What looked like the chibi mini-version of the Defence Force's biggest trump card, struggled to hold on his thumb, kicking around those little feet of his.

"Well, now I'm quite curious abut THAT story..."

"I CAN'T TURN BACK AND I AM T I N Y !!! (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )"

"I see that... How'd you even get in here?"

Tiny #8 stopped fidgeting a bit. Instead two unproportionally big round dark eyes goggled at him. It was undeniably adorable to look at. "Well after THIS happened, I couldn't grab my phone on the table anymore, so I ran around to find someone, but I figured Narumi and Kikoru would very likely take advantage of my situation and do something stupid with me."

"Oh yeah, they definitely would and I get why, honestly."

"So I ran around to find you, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW BIG THE 1st DIVISION IS, WHEN YOU'RE LIKE THIS, OK?! And then I saw the slightly opened window and just crawled in... ༼☯﹏☯༽"

"Wait... you know where my temporary place in the 1st Division is located? Why?"

"....Coincidence? (*ﾟｰﾟ) "

He sighed. "Well just when you think you saw everything...Kafka Hibino enters the stage..."

"SIR, WHAT SHOULD I DO?? WHY ARE THESE THINGS ALWAYS HAPPENING TO ME??"

"you really want me to answer that, bud?", he barely tried to hide the undertone of his voice, which left the small creature on the palm of his hand baffled for a second.

"Wha-? HEY, MEAN!! What are you on about!?"（＞д＜）

"Yeah, maybe, I don't know STOP CHANGING in general, like I told you f.ex.. or maybe stick to your training routine without going OVERBOARD on a regular basis? How 'bout that?"

The big dark round eyes got even bigger with every word spoken.

"Yeah, don't look at me like that, I might coincidently got wind of stuff, you know?"

His unexpectedly open and emotional response threw Kafka off. For a second he forgot about his *tiny* main problem, his mind jumped between confused and worried and he couldn't comprehend with his reaction for now. After some awkward seconds in silence, Hoshina's tone grew significantly calmer, but still sort of off to his usual self-assured expression. "Well at least this time you're actually telling me about stuff that bothers you, huh?"

Silence again. While hanging from the palm of his Vice-Captain's hand Kafka realized something (besides his size) was different. His senses grew more aware of his surroundings to find answers.

"Are... are you drunk, sir?"

Besides the slight scent of alcohol in the air, and the - well quite obvious - bottle of sake on the table, the startled twitch on his face confirmed Kafka's guess was right. Other than the sake the only other thing on the table were some snacks. Another odd thing to Kafka, who was used to see Hoshina's surroundings stuffed with documents, loose papers, books and other work related things.

The silence lingered around them uncomfortably. To Kafka's suprise Hoshina was seemingly struggling with words. A look on his face Kafka couldn't remember seeing before. Now his mind definitely jumped to 'worried'.

Hoshina tried to mimic an insulted face and looked away. "A little tippsy at most... I'm off-duty for tonight.." Besides the slightly blushed nose and cheeks, Kafka now noticed some dark circles under red eyes. "..and despite my gut telling me better, I assumed I probably won't be needed anymore today, and that I could hang loose a little. It's not my Division after all, there's another Captain and Vice-Captain in charge here. So I might as well make use of that chance... Should have known, it would end up that way or another.. " He smiled a bit and Kafkas felt like his heart clenching from the sight. "Although I definitely should have placed my bet on YOU to be the reason for that." He chuckled lightly, while his expressions grew somewhat softer.

"I'm sorry, Sir."

"Nah, it's fine. As if I didn't get used to your-"

"I never put much thought to it, but ever since the Defence Force started preparing for the big counter attack on #9 your workload must've at least doubled in the 3rd and 1st Division.. and here I am still taking over the rest of your time as well..."

"Don't like where this is going, officer... You're not starting pitying me, are ya?"

"No I-...I just feel like.. I didn't realize, and there for not appreciated your work enough.." Silence. "And also.." The tiny kaiju had his look glued to the floor in front of him for a while now. "I know you told me to brush it off earlier but,... I truly regret ... not telling you about... #8 n'stuff.. I'm sorry... I'd change that if I could.."

A small plushy-sized Kaiju was gently put back on the ground again. Hoshina scratched his nose for a second, before bending far back to the other side of the room. He grabbed for his smartphone that was burried in piles of carelessly pushed aside documents.

"As I said. You're here now, aren't ya?" When he got his phone he chose to stay laid down on the floor and started typing something on the lightened screen.

A tiny transformed Kafka carefully made his way around and walked up on eye-level with Hoshina's face again. Once again overwhelmed by his current state of being, he let himself fall back on the floor and sat on the ground. "So... what should I do?"

"The first thing WE do is trying to make some calls. But since you seem to be in no life-threatening condition, we might have to wait 'till tomorrow for a first medical examination. If that's the case you'll stay, and I get you down to the lab first thing in the morning."

"Wait!" The tiny Kaiju made a suprisingly far jump right up to Hoshina's chest and pressed the (for him very big) red hang-up button on the screen with both paws. "You're right about that, I won't die this second from being tiny, so we might as well wait for tomorrow."

The questioning look on the opposite's face made a tiny Kafka look away and scratch his neck shyly. "Well, since you're ... I dunno,... I feel like, I can't have you be seen d-dru- .. like this by other officials of the 1st Division, b-because of me..."

A finger poked his forehead, which caused a tiny being like him to fall right back landing on warm soft fabric of Hoshina's shirt.

"Idiot. But you might be right about that."

[starswritewhispers]

pick your poison

Chuuya had always found that chasing the sting of betrayal with the burn of anger was far smoother than the jagged edges of heartbreak.  With anger, its aftertaste had the spice of a lie that would weigh down his tongue and dull his senses, but after enough shots, he could forget the bitter taste of betrayal that lingered behind the burn. Heartbreak would refuse to leave his mouth for days, he’d cough and watch his own blood splatter on his fist from the shards still lodged stubbornly within his throat.   The aftertaste of rust would linger on his tongue for months to follow, forcing him to swallow every new sentence with the hint of neveragainneveragain souring every word.  

Anger was better. Anger was easier. When his family the Sheep betrayed him, he downed the anger quicker than the heartbreak could register. It turned on him, the way it almost always did.  He wouldn’t have had a knife lodged in his gut, rat poison sinking into his bloodstream, if he had been better. The Flags always argued with him on that. He still whispers ‘i told you so’ when he drops flowers off at Albatross’s grave. He can’t look at any of their headstones, but he requested Mori to bury him next to his fallen friends when he inevitably goes. Dazai had complained, whining and throwing a tantrum.  The same shit it always was with him, loud cries of but you’re my dog, as if his friends hadn’t just died because of Chuuya’s lack of fucking humanity. It’d be easier to deal with if Dazai really was throwing a tantrum just to be immature.  He clocked it for what it was, the second Dazai’s jaw clenched when he overheard Chuuya’s request, he was trying to goad Chuuya, to annoy him, but it wasn’t out of spite–for once. No, Dazai was trying to hand Chuuya a bottle of his favorite prescription and be the punching bag for the anger that would follow. Chuuya would often find himself sipping a glass of wine and wishing he could find it within himself to hate Dazai.

Dazai, who orchestrated the first betrayal, who had figured out the core of who Chuuya was so perfectly that he knew he’d rather sacrifice his soul than betray the group that had just betrayed him. Dazai, who was the reason Chuuya was in the Port Mafia in the first place, Dazai, the only person in Chuuya’s life that he couldn’t get rid of, whether he wanted him around or not. 

It only started to scare him when he realized the idea of a life with Dazai constantly around the corner wasn’t so terrifying anymore. 

He noticed when the little light in Dazai’s eyes would flicker out completely and they’d go to the arcade, or the grunts he hung around would take him drinking.  When one of them was revealed to be a traitor, Chuuya couldn’t bring himself to talk to Dazai. He knew he should’ve, but the old taste of heartbreak had morphed into a bitter form of cruel satisfaction, rising up into his throat as though it was bile from a hellish hangover. 

How’d it feel to be the one manipulated into losing something you loved?

When the other one had passed, Chuuya did reach out. He ignored the bloody taste of heartbreak and the easy offer of anger in his hands and instead tried to contact Dazai. Grief had held hands with him his whole life and as much as his partner annoyed him, he knew first hand how guilt would follow. Dazai didn’t respond to any of them. After five hours, his calls and messages stopped going through. His worry tasted like soured wine, left in the barrel for eons too long. His mind conjured up countless scenarios of Dazai finally finding a successful suicide route, and whatever rest he had planned to achieve that night was quickly lost in his own mind.

When the news finally broke that Dazai had turned traitor, the chaser of anger hit his throat before the sting of betrayal could even touch it.  His anger stayed outwards, a rare occurrence, but one that he appreciated nonetheless. It tasted like fire on his tongue, sent a warmth running through his veins, and a constant awareness humming in his bones. Anger was always easier.  

By the time Tachihara had messaged him that Dazai was captured with a following ‘don’t do anything stupid’ plea attached, he couldn’t remember what the rust of heartbreak tasted like or how the tang of sourness from worry would crease the lines of his face.  

The only taste that remained was the steady spark of anger on his tongue. He supposed it made sense, in a cruel, twisted way.

It was, after all, the only thing that stayed.

[rolandkaros]

[sleepytownez]

An excruciatingly long slow-burn fanfiction could fix him. (Debatable)

[mariocki]

Shadows of Fear: At Occupier's Risk (1.3, Thames, 1971)

"I happened to look into one of the other rooms and there were dust sheets."

"If there were other guests, you would have seen them."

"I once lived in a flat for six months and never saw anyone in the house. Heard them, yes, but never saw them."

"No. There's no one else here."

"Good."

[milk-crafting]

don't worry about me or where i am, i'm in my wonderland

reference used

[3gremlins]

i just love that a show as big as doctor who came out with its whole chest and said FUCK YOU TERFS YOU ACTIVELY MAKE LIFE DANGEROUS FOR TRANS PEOPLE AND YOU HAVE NO PLACE HERE

like tysm, russell t davies <3

(also finally justice for donna)

[ralvezfanatic]

when i get over my social anxiety + learn to properly socialize, its over for all of you mfs

[thenon-fictiondays]

Hirano to Kagiura light novel translation 4-1

Chapter 4: Fall.

Part 1

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It might be September by now, but the sun’s rays know no bounds.

Heat from the weather aside, the schoolhouse on the coattails of summer break is permeated with the fervor of the students.

Among all those in the athletic clubs who have undergone away games and training camps, there are many who have deepened both their tans and their virility. The sense of achievement characteristic of those who kept up with their exercise lives within their growth spurts.

Hirano’s roommate is, once again, one of them.

Kagiura, who’s gotten a bit taller, has gotten used to high school, completely devoid of the anxiety he’d seemed to have around the time he’d started school.

Since they’d met up over the summer, he’s become more and more relaxed, and Hirano can’t help but think of him as a beloved younger brother.

Wait, but younger brothers don’t do things like give you earrings, do they?

Hirano isn’t really in a position to judge, with no siblings of his own.

He’d found his original earrings while organizing his luggage after returning from Kagiura’s countryside home. They’d fallen into his school bag and hidden themselves beneath the stiff bottom plate.

What should I do about it? he’d wondered, but figured well, whatever, and didn’t bother switching out his new ones. He’ll keep them in the dorm just in case, but ultimately plans to keep using the ones Kagiura gave him.

As soon as the new term starts, preparations for the Cultural Festival are full speed ahead. Even the first years, who aren’t used to running events without the guidance of a faculty member, are gradually gaining opportunities to build character. The Executive Committee members have so many responsibilities that it has become difficult to carry out their studies without the cooperation of their classmates.

Kagiura also has the situation of being part of the ‘Sports Recommendation Squad’, and his grades are not up to snuff. It would be good if they don’t take a hit from his extracurricular responsibilities, but that will come down to his own efforts.

It’s not just the Executive Committee members who are swamped. The students in the culture clubs are also at their busiest, and with the autumn tournament right around the corner, there’s no way the athletics clubs can cut back on practices.

The sweltering nights have yet to abate; yet despite these conditions which could even be called cruel, most of the students are eagerly awaiting the Cultural Festival. You might even get away with saying all of them.

Because, after all, girls come to visit the cultural festival. 

And even without that element, a festival is still a festival. 

This is a time when the whole student body is restless, so the Disciplinary Committee will be on top of keeping everyone in line—or such is their public stance, but they won’t be too strict about moderating uniforms and hair styles.

In any case, a high proportion of the students will be in costumes on the day of the festival. 

There's also at least one class cross-dressing every year. 

This year, that’s right, it's the class that Hirano is unfortunately a part of. More specifically, it's been decided that Hirano will be one of the ones in drag. 

Oiwa-san—a famous spirit who makes an appearance in the Yotsuya Kaidan.¹

There are many variations of the famous ghost story, in which Oiwa, the deceased wife, holding a grudge over the betrayal of her husband, Iemon, slaughters every last person involved. Apparently, they will be basing the makeup off of Tōkaidō Yotsuya Kaidan², which is popular among Hirano’s classmates.

He’d been shown reference images of the ghost, her face half disfigured and inflamed by poison, but the picture was nightmare fuel when viewed in the dark.

Supposedly it’s a style of Halloween makeup that’s been popular in recent years, but the trial makeup that had been applied to his arm after school in order to match the shade to his face had been truly grotesque.

This information is to be kept top secret until the last possible minute on the day of, in the interests of building hype.

While Hirano is putting away his homework, the door opens with a click.

His roommate is home.

It’s still bright outside, but the dining hall is just about to open for dinner.

“Hirano-san, I’m home!”

“Welcome home, Kagi-kun.”

These days, Kagiura usually gets a bit bashful in reply to Hirano’s greeting, seemingly tickled. So naive and innocent he must be, making such an expression with no fear of being misunderstood.

There were days they’d spent together, but summer vacation had been long.

There’s an air of a different kind of newness from the one there’d been in the period before they’d gotten used to sharing a dorm—Kagiura probably feels it too. At least, Hirano thinks so.

He feels closer to Kagiura compared to before. After all, he’s met his immediate and extended family, so of course they’d feel more intimate. It’s as if the part of himself that had been on guard while thinking about how to act as a senpai in his second year in the dorms has been absolved.

After Hirano had filled out his print-outs as if in competition with Kagiura, who’d spread out his homework in a frenzy, they’d headed to the dining hall a little later than usual.

It always takes him about 3 or 4 days to get back into the swing of dorm life.

Speaking of which, he thinks.

Before Kagiura moved into the dorms, Hirano had been quite nervous.

He’d talked to Hanzawa about it one time when the Disciplinary Committee had a meeting, and they’d brainstormed strategies to avoid scaring Kagiura off.

He’d also felt it would be a waste of his efforts if he was only friendly at the beginning of their time spent living together; thus, they’d come to the conclusion that it wouldn’t be too far out of Hirano’s depths to give him a nickname and use “-kun”.

Oh yeah, that’s right. At the beginning I called him Kagiura-kun.

He’s been calling his name every day, enough that he’d ended up shortening it, thinking it’s too long and clunky.

Kagiura has morning practice tomorrow, too, so there's no way he can let him oversleep.

Hirano got that, but there was something on his mind that just wouldn’t go away, so he asked before shutting off the lights. 

".....Hey, um. I know you're working hard, so I don't wanna rain on your parade, but are your studies going all right? I haven't heard how your proficiency test went yet."

As the words leave his mouth, he thinks, what am I, a private tutor? and laughs drily to himself.

For the results of the test held right after summer break, a list ranking every student in their grade and the standard score were passed out to each person, the same as for the periodic exams.

For first years, they can be used as nothing more than a reference, but due to the breadth of the material covered, in some cases they might be used to determine which schools to apply to when compared to results from previous cram schools.

“...I just barely passed.”

“What’s the damage?”

“The teacher said, ‘You didn’t do badly enough that I need to pull you aside, but keep working hard’...”

“I see.”

Which is bad in and of itself, really.

Kagiura hangs his head dejectedly, and Hirano’s tempted to comfort him all the more for having seen the extent of his efforts, but his lack of preparation is unmistakable.

“Kagi-kun, after the cultural festival is over, you gotta step it up. If you miss some of the notes, get someone to show you theirs before the next day. Don’t let them build up. If you end up with a backlog of notes to take, you’re not gonna be able to understand them.”

Hirano knows deep down he’s probably worrying too much, but he keeps the expression on his face stern. The beginning is the key to everything. Among his classmates in the ‘Sports Recommendation Squad’ who, like Kagiura, are bad students, there are many whose grades plummeted after going on to their second year.

Who knew he’d become this much of a worrywort after becoming someone’s senpai?

“Yeah…Hirano-san, will you teach me again?”

“Sure. But you better bring back good grades.”

“I will! …By the way, can I ask you something?”

He ducks his head as he asks the question, a gesture with all the charm one would expect from someone as cute as him.

“What’s up?”

“When you were a first year, did the senpai you roomed with teach you how to study, too?”

“Nah, no way.”

“Hm…did you not get along?”

“It’s not that we didn’t get along, we just weren’t really that close. I wasn’t nearly as friendly a kouhai as you are.”

This is usually the case for dorm students. Hanzawa, contemptuous of homosexual relations, has a reputation in certain circles for having a finely-tuned gaydar and showing up to cockblock any time he senses anyone getting a little too close.³

His distaste isn’t unwarranted; apparently it has to do with his family, so even Hirano feels bad for him.

“...Does that make me special, then?”

“Why are you so happy about that?”

At Hirano’s jests of what are you, a dog? Kagiura breaks into a grin.

“Yeah. You know, I’m glad I’m your roommate, Hirano-san.”

Hirano smiles wryly; Kagiura’s got him wrapped around his little finger without a hint of insincerity.

With Kagiura cozying up to him like this, he doesn’t stand a chance.

*****

T/N: (1) Not sure I need to add more info on this to the story, but it's pretty interesting, so you can read more about it here.

(2) A movie based on the story made in 1959.

(3) Yall....idek what to say about this. I tried to keep the tone lighthearted but the original text literally says 'gay-hating Hanzawa' and describes his feelings as disgust. Idk why the writer put this but our boy is NOT like that 😭 I actually broke my vow of not looking at the official TL just to see how they handled this bit and they completely watered it down lmao. and tbh, yall know my dedication to accuracy but I WAS TEMPTED. While going back and forth about what I should do, I told my sister about it, and she suggested that Hanzawa doesn't actually hate gays, he just hates gay sex and will stand for none of it in his dorm so...we're going with that interpretation 💀🙃💀🙃

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Special shoutout to @jeizet, @jujupanic, @massyworld, @umbreonwolfy, and @acidsuzanne-blog for sponsoring these updates 🙌

[sillimancer]

damn I stumbled upon some old art from 2019 and I have not improved much lmao

[sadmages]

the true pain of trying to make moustache hawke in inquisition with none of the assets that make moustache hawke moustache hawke available in the character creator

[angst-is-love-angst-is-life]

Hadn’t looked at these in forever but I kinda went off ngl (aside from the horrendous over-saturation)

[lesbiangiratina]

Their isuka palette… downright vampiric

[izzy-b-hands]

I may be on day two of being stuck in bed thanks to some of the ✨worst back pain I've ever had in my life✨, but the neighbours are outside grilling, the window is open a bit, and it smells so fucking good. I'm not even hungry rn, but I am v much enjoying the second hand good food smells.