WOW this has been ROUGH in the Life Events category of things, but. slowly crawling out of that. hopefully
this was the opening scene for a something I started writing after watching the Manben inverview with Nishi Keiko and thinking back to all the classic shoujo manga I stayed up reading back in the day, like damn that's so true Urasawa Naoki
it's partially a love letter to all the greats of the genre that I read, and also to the late night teleseryses that captivated me over the years lmao. it'd be nice to find the time to tackle it properly as a comic, but I'm having fun working on it recreationally :)
✨but since it's recreational, some character info✨
the first character seen is lawrence 'law' valenciano (late 30s), the one with the glasses is cris volante (mid-later 20s). law works at a karinderya, cris is an extremely broke university student.
⭐ places I’m at! bsky / pixiv / pillowfort /cohost / cara.app / insta / tip jar!
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KAEYA BIRTHDAY ??? ?? i love you mr alberich sir i love you oh so so so much.
uh dialogue for this one but more legible under the cut (and a messy ragbros page)
Klee: Kaeya! Come down here!
Kaeya: Oh? heh. What is it, Spark Knight?
Klee: Happy Birthday! It is today? Right? I even double-checked with Albedo and everything but I don't know...
Klee: It's a Calla Lily! You like those, right?
Kaeya: I certainly do! Thank y-
Klee: Oh.
Klee: OK OK OK-
Kaeya: Hm?
Klee: Kaeya you have to promise to not tell Master Jean about this one!
Kaeya: You can count on me to keep my lips sealed.
Klee: OK! Close your eyes- eye- and hold out your hands!
Kaeya: Mhm!
Klee: OK! You can open them! TA-DA~!
Klee: I made a bomb for you! It even has an eyepatch! He can look after you when I'm somewhere else. Take good care of him! Oh yeah- He explodes if you- Kaeya?
Kaeya: Thank you Klee! Thank you very much!
Klee: You're VERY welcome Kaeya!
a lil ragbros too.... kaeya and his red siblings amirite (bursts into tears).. also i am so obsessed with chibi diluc saying "bring em in..."
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I feel like Eddie is the type of guy to always have a slide whistle in his pocket and uses it to make incidental sound effects for the conversations that happen around him.
Nobody knows where he gets them all from and they don’t ask incase he takes one out and starts playing with it.
Wayne is so happy every time he loses one of the whistles. He absolutely never tells Eddie when he finds one of the numerous whistles that have rolled under the couch. He has an agreement with Steve to dispose of them secretly and securely.
Except one night when Steve’s driving around town with Eddie, he opens the glove box and there’s a bag full of whistles (seriously nobody knows where he’s getting them from. And in bulk?)
And Eddie is all ‘HEY!’ Which immediately makes Steve tense up in preparation for an argument with his easily antagonised boyfriend about the possible theft of offending musicals instruments.
But then Eddie continues with ‘more whistles! I didn’t take you for a fan dude!!’
And promptly shoves one up each of his nostrils and one in his mouth and tries to play them all at once while demanding Steve watch instead of watching the road.
Steves going to have to think of a new hiding spot.
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Augusnippets Day 15: Starvation
cw: drugging, substance dependency, starvation, emeto, sorta dehumanization, dissociation, nonsexual nudity, vague deathwish
previous // next
for the @augusnippets challenge // word count: 537
=~=~=
He can no longer sit up on his own.
Too weak. In the sparse moments where he's coherent enough to think, the spy knows they're tapering off his rations. Hunger crawls up from his stomach like a swarm of ants, leeching what little strength remains.
He It is always trapped in a haze, but the haze is no longer big enough. It aches all day, unable to even sleep until someone brings another water bottle. Pain consumes its leg, hunger shivers in its bones. When guards pass by, it begs them for water, not food, wanting only to numb it all.
Sometimes they comply, but it's rarely enough. Are they taking away its relief too? Or has it built a tolerance to the drug?
(the thought terrifies the spy when he can comprehend it; the thought of never returning to himself)
It can hardly move. It doesn't want to move. When the stubborn thing inside tries to lift its head, there is only dizziness, more pain, a fleeting fear that this may be the end.
The creature wants none of that. No thoughts, no senses, only the drug that allows it to sleep.
They bring it water and it drinks and nothing happens. No fog, no sudden emptiness. It whimpers into the concrete for hours or days.
The bring it water and it drinks.
(no food)
It can't stop shivering, nausea twisting its empty stomach.
(why can't you do something why can't you move why couldn't you have held fast)
They don't bring it water.
Two guards, it can see them through hazy vision. Its eyes hurt, its head aches.
(this is different)
They grab its arms, dragging it out of the cell, bad leg howling, utter agony, creature howling with it, voice weak
(pathetic, could've ran, could've done something)
the movement and pain and nausea and dizziness are all too much after it's been allowed to feel nothing for so long and it heaves up nothing, bile on its tongue, tears in its eyes. They drag it somewhere and it hurts it hurts it hurts.
(could've turned it down)
would've died
(would've been better)
They have to hold it up, hands around and under its arms. Someone else is talking at it, but it doesn't matter. It hurts and it's cold, colder than the cell was.
(when did they take his clothes?)
It tries to vomit again, left with a sour string of spit clinging to its chin. Over, it just wants it to be over, just wants it to—
Its head jerks up so quickly it sees spots when it hears the snap of a bottle opening. The new person is holding it out
(smirking)
It tries to reach for the bottle, can't shake itself free of the hands, trapped. It can't make sense of the stream of words pouring from its mouth, but it can't stop them either.
pleasepleasepleaesithurtspleaseithurts
(you were supposed to be better than this you were supposed to endure–)
The man laughs.
“Damn. Guess you really can do a number on a guy without lifting a finger.” He screws the cap back on, ignoring the creature's despairing whine.
“Put him back for now. I think he's almost ready for some questions.”
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god damn i do not post often but can i talk about intentionality for a second?? one second please
i'm gonna be talking about bg3 but this really applies to any fandom space. people will, surface-level, agree that a Black character is not getting enough content compared to their white counterparts because it's. obvious . take wyll, who is several hours behind on voiced lines compared to other origins despite being one of the original five (before they added karlach and whiteified her too but that's another post). it's hard to deny cold hard facts
but then instead of engaging in content that uplifts Black characters and creators, they'll go right back to pumping out more and more content of just their white faves. on its own, it's not actively harmful, but here's what the implication is, whether they acknowledge it or not: yes wyll has less in-game content, yes his writing didn't get the attention it deserved, therefore i don't like him as much. it only perpetuates wyll's lack of content by contributing to his sidelining in fandom spaces
what i would love for fans who claim to be allies to do is to step out of the comfort zone of their initial favorites (which can, in fact, be biased!) and start pursuing content centering Black characters with intentionality. like all things, anti-racism (actively pushing back against racism rather than simply "Not Being Racist") takes practice and effort. you can't really agree with us that wyll needs more content, then in the same breath say that it's because of that that he's not interesting to you . the point was right in front of you doing a jig and you still missed it
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