#lololol anyway

[kaus-quietis]

A Circus Library - quick recommendations of short stories, poems, comics and novels I've recently read #1

Hello there! I'm the circus resident poltergeist, Eliott, managing this blog until Lav comes back. Today I offer you a slightly different formula of my super awesome super rare super bookclub post, as Lav would say!

Hello hello hello! Is this a bookclub?! Is this chaotic ramble?! Ding ding! You got it wrong!

Writing full on reviews is tiedous and long, and while I appreciate doing it, I'm myself not always in the mood to read a long post explaining why a book is genius. Do I love that from time to time? Yes! Do I have the attention span to write one now? Nope! However, I still wanted to share some titles I recently (re)discovered, and that I think are marvellous reads for anyone wanting to dive into something new.

Here you'll find a few recommendations with the shortest of words to tell you why they are great, or just scream about it.

short disclaimer before I begin because this is tumblr and while I forgot a lot about this website, I remember how the TW thing works lol, it's at your own discretion to search for the works beforehand if you have any trigger you don't want to encounter.

Jack Spicer - Billy the kid

The master of my fate, captain of my soul as Timothée Chalamet would say idk I barely know the guy. Classic and gold, Spicer is an amazing writer and this poem is phenomenal. It's quite short and perfect if you want to know more about the wonder that was US American poetry during the 20th century. Of course I'd encourage you to read all of his works, but Billy the Kid is perfect to start somewhere.

Ryunosuke Akutagawa - Hell Screen

Classic and iconic, I've recently pushed further than Rashomon and boy oh boy am I never turning back. Hell Screen is a phenomenal short story displaying all the elegance and cruelty Akutagawa can incorporate in his works. It's mesmerizing, it aches, it's everything I love. I read this story in Jay Rubin's translation (Penguin Classics), and even though I do not speak Japanese so I cannot compare, I dare say it's a very good one.

Lucie Bryon, Thieves

I never recommended comic books before but I wanted to for a change! I am a huge comic book lover, but most of the ones I usually read are not available in english language. This one is, though. Thieves is a beautiful comic about growth, falling in love and finding acceptance in others and in yourself. It's light and heartwarming, like eating candy.

Ottessa Moshfegh, Lapvona

Now, this book exploits one of my biggest plot weaknesses ever, and that is fucked up people in medieval settings. Lapvona tells the story of Marek, a sheperd's son, who'll be caught in a series of unfortunate events, political struggles, and secrets, all inside the town of Lapvona. It's dark and unsettling, the characters are scandalous and horrible, yet sickeningly human. Now, I said to check the TW yourselves, but be very careful with this one, if you can think of a TW, then it's certainly in this book.

Osamu Dazai, Early Light

In the Storybook ND series, this book contains three short stories : Early Light, Three Hundred Views of Mount Fuji, and Villon’s Wife. I'd recommend the three of them, as it's a fantastic dive into Dazai's shorter works. I think that reading his short stories is very important to understand his work and the width of the subjects and stories he wrote about. It helps that once again, in my opinion, the translation chosen by this publishing house is so good.

This is it for today! Here you have five of the works I read (or re-read) this summer, and that I'd warmly recommend. There are two short stories (Dazai, Akutagawa), a comic book (Bryon), a novel (Moshfegh) and a poem (Spicer). 'Till next time!

[campirebitesarchive]

Oh hey happy two years since I didn’t kms

[brilliantsnafu]

Unexpectedly triggered by the laying of hands in a Catholic horror movie how's your night going?

[noornight]

Long distance besties. This definitely happened after the third movie (source: trust me bro)

Based on this

[ship-it-sideways]

grumbo at the cost of several hours of struggling to draw

i hate anatomy and i hate perspective and i HATE anatomy in perspective !!! It's ok theyre cute :3

[1driedpersimmon]

A lil chat :)

[cosmicsodacan-art]

Altar for the One True God

[wispurring-moss]

it's funny to me because this isn't even who they actually are in the self-indulgent Hella-Swap AU that lives rent free in my head at all times, but every time i watch this ep my heart yearns so badly for Angel to get to exist as the literal embodiment of (non-self-destructive??) partying & having a good time, so i Finally gave in to the massive need i've had to draw this image for ages now lmao~ TwT

and was this also perhaps just a perfectly plausible excuse to get to draw Husk in a cutoff leather jacket? ...what are you, a cop?? mind your business x'3c

(p.s. if it wasn't glaringly obvious, i definitely cobbled together the bg from the show itself so all the shoutouts/credits/etc. to whichever of the talented crew put together this gorgeous scene; if anyone knows/has links to the specific artist(s) for this one lmk so i can update accordingly~! ✌️✨)

[kittysauce]

i lost a bet

[komelliko]

manipulative!boss!sunday x timid!secretary!reader

summary: You accept the dinner invite, but can't shake the feeling that Sunday had alternative motivations. Well—you can't seem to get yourself to ignore it as well as you usually do, at least. wc: 1.3k

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 (nsfw) / part 4 / part 5

---

To say you’re surprised that Sunday knows something almost feels on its way to an insult. Ever since meeting him, you’ve felt the notion that Sunday fills every room he’s in with a sort of omnipresence—a watchfulness that extends beyond his direct gaze, an invisible cloud of eminence curling in the corners of space like steam. Sure, you collect information for him in your manila folders and papers and electronic mails… but you often wonder if it’s merely to organize, not to present. That he is already aware of all things, and only wishes for it to be in proper order. 

All this to say: The dress fitting you perfectly is entirely logical. Sure, maybe it’s a bit too perfect, but to show concern feels almost sacrilegious. 

Of course Sunday knows. It’s normal for an employer to know such things, isn’t it?

Regardless, you find yourself out of place in this Blue Hour restaurant. Your only companions seem to be the objects in your old clutch: Your phone, and a metal tin of your favorite mints. Bringing along a wallet or even a few credit bills was out of the question, Sunday had assured you. Even at your protest, he insisted it would be taken care of. 

You press a mint against the roof of your mouth with your tongue. You had been too anxious to remember the name of the restaurant, only hearing the erratic pace of the jazz music echoing from the band’s main stage. Only seeing the satin of the tablecloth. Only feeling the gnawing pit in your stomach.

“About today’s report, sir—“

Sunday would only keep his clasped fists against the table, maybe his forearms, but never his elbows. He was a man with remarkable, old-fashioned etiquette. 

“Please,” he corrects you. “Call me Sunday.” “Mister Sunday,” you reiterate. But something tells you to stop talking anyways.

Your eyes glance around the room, wondering from what other angles he seems to be watching you, ridiculous as it may sound. You curse yourself at how easy it is to ‘pay it no mind’, ‘give it no thought’ in any other occasion. During work, at meetings, or when his presence is invisible to you. The sentiment feels like the most logical thing in the world then, but now? It’s a ridiculous notion. 

But you can at least pretend to pay it no mind, and you find that to be enough for the time being. The band plays on, a saxophone wailing out its melody over double bass and the hiss of the drum kit.

"Jazz as a term for Penaconian music is a fairly recent construction," he begins to speak, at first seemingly to nobody but himself. "Popularized by my dear sister, naturally. Do you know what the term comes from?" 

You shake your head. 

"'Jats', more commonly phrased as 'the jats', also known as spirit, moxie, joie de vivre—Now, it's been corrupted to mean something closer to restlessness," he sighs. "But in its inception, to have 'the jats' was to be blessed by Xipe with a certain euphoria, and the style of music that many associated with such a feeling was said to be played by 'Jats bands'." Sunday takes the smallest sip of his drink before adding "But Jazz rolls off the tongue better, doesn't it?”

You laugh, a rictus showing on your face. “Indeed it does, Mr. Sunday.”

He smiles no wider than he would at any other person. Your certain vulnerability seems to almost leak onto the floor, rivulets flowing down the legs of your chair—Sunday relishes in the image, watery anxiety beading off the skin of your back and running down the curve of your spine. Underneath his gloves, his knuckles pale as he laces his fingers together tightly. The vision before him is everything he’d ever hoped for—what he’d been picturing when he selected the venue, the dress, the time. A plan perfectly orchestrated.

“I worry sometimes that you have the wrong idea of me, [Y/N],” he posits, glibly. “You seem tense.”

You stop yourself from placing another mint in your mouth to look him in the eye. “Oh, it’s nothing, Mr. Sunday,” you lie, “It’s just been a while since we’ve been seated, and we’ve only been given drinks.”

“I have an inclination that our food will be out shortly.” “…But sir,” you question, “We haven’t ordered.” “Our reservation asked for orders at the time of scheduling,” Sunday smiles. “As I said before, everything is being taken care of for you.”

Your eyes drift to the other patrons: A patchwork mass of Halovians here, Pepeshi there, many of which are discussing unknowable things over their large menus. You tell yourself it’s nothing to worry about. Logically, Sunday must know something you don’t. Sunday must know a lot of things that you don’t. 

Sunday watches the slight movements of your jaw as your tongue curls around the next mint in your mouth. The first mint in your mouth had lasted two minutes, the next forty seconds, and the final only twenty-five. Perhaps there was something you were trying to purify within yourself—the unease he found so tantalizing at this moment, a symptom of your delicious eagerness to please—that you hoped to extract from each mint, your cheeks sucking in a nearly imperceptible degree as you drained each one dry. Sunday could imagine himself reaching over across the table to open your mouth with his thumb, saliva pooling in your mouth from the way you were siphoning the little white tablets greedily, the delicate muscles in your face spasming and twitching as you shudder beneath his velvet touch.

If he was a lesser man...

"Don't spoil your appetite on those mints, darling," Sunday jokes. He can immediately see you tense up from the name, swallowing the tablet in your mouth. "My apologies, Mister Sunday."

...Boss or not...why the hell were you apologizing to him?

"I told you, Sunday is fine," he smiles. "...Do I frighten you?" "Excuse me?" Sunday tilts his head to the side the slightest bit, his cranial wings drooping. Still, even as he expresses his supposed concern, his smile doesn't fade.

"You seem frightened, dear," he coos. "If I'd known you would hate dinner with me so much, I wouldn't have asked you." Initially, you feel yourself overcome with guilt. He was spending all this money on you just for you to be so skittish... But that was never the point of the dinner meeting, right? You bite your lower lip, mulling over the possibility of getting the topic of tonight's dinner back to that of your work. You look askance, to the lack of plate right before you, and then to him. "It's just a concern I had regarding budgeting for the venue," you lie, "Some of the cost estimates you'd previously requested have changed since—" You stop when you feel something touch your ankle. Sunday has leaned in closer to you to place his shoe between your feet. You look down to where his shoe must be under the table—hidden by the long tablecloth—then to him, with that static smile still on his face. Not a hint wider than he would smile at anyone else. "Isn't it peculiar?" he asks. Sunday hasn't been listening to you whatsoever. "Look around the room. Each and every table here is surrounded by strangers. These figures around us are unknown to us, and likewise we are unknown to them." Even when it's not the point of what he's saying, you can still feel that sense of malice hidden behind Sunday's teeth when he refers to the folk of Penacony. Avaricious, calloused, snobbish and cruel. Corrupt is often the term he uses, with a bite that seems to imply he finds himself distinct from it. Like a single healthy cell surrounded by cancerous tumor. The outer side of his shoe draws a line up your calf, and he continues.

"Don't you find it fascinating that all these people may glance at us—pay us no more mind than what we pay to them—and have no idea what we are to each other? Most don't even know I have a secretary," he grins. "Perhaps I enjoy keeping you as my little secret." What he says is enough to keep you silent until your food arrives.

--- a/n: thanks so much for all the notes on the last installment, everyone! hopefully a bit of worldbuilding isn't a turn-off to any of you, i'm obsessed with penacony's jazz age inspirations just as much as i am with sunday xD just for the sake of keeping things cut up right, we'll end things off here lolol tag list: @j1yu425 @crepezinhos

[splickedylit]

Anonymous asked: Hello!! For art requests, perhaps some zolu? (Zoro and Luffy)

b0yskylark asked: Splickedy!! Maybe you can draw your favorite One Piece ship?? Personally I think if Zoro and Sanji kissed a lil they'd calm tf down lol

I do find Zosan pretty delightful--LOVE a rivals-to-rival/lovers pairing--and for that matter, Franky/Robin is GREAT and whips ass and both pairings were on the candidate list. But lbr I'm a huge sucker for that captain/first mate intense loyalty "til death do us part and you're not allowed to die" shit. plus Luffy being all but canonically ace means I can bring my no-holds-barred-all-romance-no-sex moirail agenda to yet another pairing which is GREAT for me emotionally. eue

What I'm saying is yo ho yo ho a pirates little late afternoon nap holding hands like otters so I don't drift away for me yar har

[nicollekidman]

realizing that people who equate cynicism with intellectual rigor are often just being lazy and pathetic has been so helpful tbh

[namelessgakusei]

Your honor, I love him

[heynhay]

hey ive had a couple ppl say they like the way i do colors and some others say they dont know HOW i apply weird palettes would anyone be interested in a tutorial. because i find a palette i like before i even lay out base color usually.

[slavhew]

hes happy trust me

ref under cut

[justgallifreyanthings]

The sharpness of the tongue defeats the sharpness of the warrior

Because I’m a petty asshole, I took an hour and pulled together my own version of the proverb on the new Sonic Screwdriver. Let me know if any of y’all want this as a sticker or something, and I’ll digitize it when I have a chance.

ETA: now available as a sticker! Links are shared on my blog :)