#i might have to transfer

[akuasucc]

there is no way im passing this class

[teaboot]

Can we see the jacket? Please?

The outside is almost finished!!

It's made out of multiple jackets so the blacks don't match up but I'm gonna pick up more black dye tomorrow and see what I can do about it!!

[layzeal]

i may be going through a bit of a crisis, but i'm also really curious: adults, if you're comfortable sharing, could you reply/put in the tags what your current profession/area of study is? no need to be specific if you don't want to!!

[sarcastic-hats]

I've seen couple of clothes swap between those, and it had me thinking, okay, but what if their roles were swapped? Food for thought :3

Tell me if you want to see more of this!

Next Part

[humming-fly]

as expected the fma mobile game event side story that inexplicably features og greed and ling as high schoolers is just as wildly batshit as you'd expect - all these shitposts are all taken nearly Verbatim from the translation shit really was just that funny i still laugh when i think about it

(also in case ya'lld like to see it for yourself i saved all the screenshots and google translations to a zip file here though fair warning they may or may not be in order good luck o7)

[merakiui]

overblot! Riddle nonconning you in front of Ace and Deuce while going on about how this is the only thing a magicless nobody is good for 👍🏼

Omg yes,,,,,,,,

(cw: yandere, gender neutral, nsfw, non-con, humiliation/degradation, public sex)

Amidst a ruined, debris-ridden rose maze, a monster looms. No one dares stray close, lest they find themselves maimed and sent to the grave, and so they can only watch helplessly from the safety of overturned chairs, tables, and uprooted rose trees. The scene was once serene, an almost-perfect Unbirthday. Now it is desolate and bleak, a nightmarish reality that leaves thick, discomforting silence blanketing the grounds.

Riddle casts a grotesquely bone-chilling shadow, and his appearance mirrors that of a creature torn from the pages of a classic horror; that's the only way to describe him: cruel and cold, all sharp, vicious edges and thorns, dripping blot. He's on the verge of a supernova, toeing the line of life and death, a monstrous mage who has reached the consequences of a culmination of excessive magic, spilled over into bitter negativity. The aura that clings to him is, in a word, utterly terrifying.

And you're right there in his shadow, a fragile, caged thing bent down on your hands and knees. Your fingers curl into the grass, tearing clumps. No one dares to speak up, to demand he release you, to fight for your safety and dignity. Hopelessly collared, Ace and Deuce, your closest companions in all of this mess, look on in horror even though they don't mean to.

It's like a tragedy spun right before their eyes. They want to look away, but they can't. It's morbidly ensorcelling.

"Observe!" Riddle's voice booms, commanding absolute obedience and attention. His pallid hips press against your ass while clawed hands dig into your hips, holding you perfectly still. Blood is drawn; it seeps beneath his sharpened nails, leaving painful indents. You feel filthy and fearful, cut down to something small and insignificant and weak. Droplets of blot speckle your backside each time he shifts. It's warm like candle wax, but it doesn't burn.

The betrayal does, though—stains through to your very soul.

You grit your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut in hopes of drifting off elsewhere. Anywhere that isn't here, speared on his cock for all to see, forced into the grass like you're bowing apologetically before the Queen and her card soldiers.

"You lack the key capabilities all mages must possess, and yet you thought it wise to challenge my rules? Here? When my word is law?" He barks out a laugh, sickly amused. Scarlet eyes narrow with disdain. "Perhaps you're as slovenly as you are disobedient. As expected of a disrespectful, magic-less fool who knows nothing! Absolutely nothing of the order I so carefully uphold!"

He pulls back, seething through grit teeth, and snaps his hips forwards. You collapse on shaky arms, gasping in pain.

It hurts more than heartbreak, more than a bruise, more than a slap. Tears spot your lash line, threatening to fall with one more well-aimed, brutal thrust. Spidery fingers dance along your waist, tracing a line towards your neck. He grips your chin and forces you to look upon a crowd of terrified faces, all ogling with bated breath. Ace is watching and so is Deuce, albeit through the cracks in his hands.

"What did you hope to achieve—to prove—by defying me?" he demands, his grip a deadly vise. "That I could be in the wrong? That all I've worked tirelessly for, all that I've done, is wrong?"

"Riddle..." You wince in your futile attempt to pull away. "Riddle, please... I... I'm sorry, but please... You're hurting me..."

He turns your head towards him, eyes ablaze with a furious tempest, and he leans closer, pinning you with startling ease. His cock presses up against your insides, enveloped tightly in your walls, and you shudder through the discomfort and the agony. A single claw traces dangerously close to your jugular.

"Speak up if you have something to say!"

"It hurts!" You gasp again, outright sobbing now. "It hurts! Please..."

"It's a punishment," he sneers, glaring disapprovingly. "It's meant to impart a lesson—one learned through pain. If you understand this, stop sniveling and respond appropriately."

You're not sure which is worse: humiliation at the hands of someone you considered a friendly acquaintance or the fact that, no matter how villainous he may be, you only wish for him to return to himself. You'd never wish this fate on anyone, but maybe it's your too-big heart that makes it impossible to hate him. You don't hate him. You can't.

And perhaps that's the worst part of all this.

You hang your head, defeated and devoid of hope. "Yes, Dorm Leader..."

And so he teaches you and all those who witness the devastating spectacle a lesson neither will ever forget.

Red is passionate and fiery, a reflection of roses and redamancy. But it is not a pleasant color. Not anymore. Not in the aftermath.

Red is the color of Riddle and Heartslabyul and blood and pain and anger. And every time you spy the slowly healing marks from that day, you feel it all over you. Red everywhere, inside and out. Externally, you may heal with all matter of magical cures, but internally it's not an easy fix.

So red is no longer a comfortable color. You wish you could look upon it and admire it for what it is: a color. But that proves impossible, for a color that is so highly revered as pretty does not evoke pretty feelings for you.

[hamable]

Hhhh bnha 419… Deku has given this fight everything he has. What happens next is literally out of his hands.

[cbrownjc]

Theory: Lestat is asleep in the Dubai Penthouse.

So I want to put this theory out before EP7 airs. I am nowhere close to 100% about it (barely even 50%), but I want to post it just in case I’m correct.

Since EP5, my belief has been that the 2022 part of the story takes place “during” Merrick. It doesn’t match Merrick 1-to-1, of course. But there are significant story points that match, particularly when it comes to Claudia’s diaries playing a significant role in the story and Louis attempting to end his un-life. 

And where was Lestat during Merrick? Asleep. Basically, in a coma. A coma he’d been in since right after book 5, Memnoch the Devil. 

In the books, Lestat went through basically three comas in his vampire life. (That I know of/remember. I don’t know if he goes through one in the Prince Lestat trilogy yet, since I just started it.) And I think the show has taken two of those comas and made them into one: the pre-Vampire Lestat coma and the post-Memnoch coma. 

This works because the timeline for everything in the show is shorter than it was in the books because of the aging up of Lestat before the events of Interview with the Vampire happen. (He’s 150 in vampire years in the show instead of just 10 as in the book.) During the time period the show is at by EP6, the middle to the end of the 1930s, Lestat was at the start of his second coma sleep in the books. 

And we already know from Claudia’s diaries in EP4 that she and Louis don’t get to Paris until 1945, after WWII is over and Paris was already liberated.  

That second coma sleep of Lestat’s lasted 55 years. And, gee, how long has it been since Louis gave that first interview to Daniel in 1973? 49 years now. 50 years exactly when S2 starts (assuming S2 comes out at the end of 2023.)

My theory? Lestat went to sleep sometime in 1967 or 1968. (Which, US history-wise, 1968 was a hell of a year. In the books, he went to sleep in 1929, the year of the Crash and the start of the Great Depression. Which was a fitting parallel.) 

If it was 1967, that would make it exactly 55 years since he was asleep by 2022, which is the year the show takes place in right now. 

Now, I couldn’t guess where Lestat might have started his over half a century of sleep. But I do think, at some point, his body was moved. And the place it was moved to was Dubai. Into the penthouse where Louis is living and now giving his do-over interview with Daniel. 

And Louis is now watching over him, as he was in Merrick when Lestat was in his post-Memnoch coma. I believe that part of Louis’ resting in EP4 was him also spending time with Lestat’s sleeping body, reading to him and such, as he did with Lestat's sleeping body in Merrick.

So, if this theory is correct, one of the final shots of EP7 will be the reveal of Lestat being asleep in another room in the Dubai penthouse.     

Rashid said Louis’ book isn’t just a warning to humanity but a lengthy suicide note. And I think it is a suicide note specifically for Lestat, for whenever Louis hopes Lestat wakes up. 

Just like the suicide note Louis left for the sleeping Lestat in Merrick.   

[ccieatchildren]

Spark

Phone Notes 1

As they were about to open the door— about to make it to freedom— fingers clamped down on their wrist. A scream bubbled up in their throat, but his words cut them off.

“I rolled over and went to cuddle my wife, but they weren’t there.” A cheek nuzzled against them, “want to tell me where they went?”

Cold sweat gathered at their brow while Whumpee scrambled for a response. They gaped like a fish locked in his arms, Whumper’s fury palpable in the tense atmosphere, but no excuse came to mind. They was so close.

“Hmm? No answer.” He tightened his grip even more, leaving finger shaped bruises on their skin. “You know what I think,” Whumper’s voice dropped an octave, becoming deep and gravely with anger, “I think my pretty, little wife took my generosity for granted, sneaking out of our bed, the one I was nice enough to leave them unbound in, and took advantage of their husband’s exhaustion, not caring at all about the hard work he does to keep them here well fed, safe, and pampered. That little bitch of a wife tried to escape their loving husband for what?” Whumper was seething, each word bit out, trying, but failing, to keep his composure. “Some woman who doesn’t even realize you’re gone. A job you were forced into despite your affinity for research. A repetitive life that takes your all, but never gives anything in return. A lonely existence without someone to rely on or care for.”

He let out a long sigh. “I simply don’t understand why you would want to escape Whumpee. I have given you everything you need here. All you need is to stay with me. Why do you want to —“

Whumpee whipped around to look at him in disbelief, a scoff leaving their lips at the absurd question. “We both know why I don’t want to be here.” They wiggled out of his loosened arms, swiftly turning their back on him and walking to their— his— room. Whumpee knew when to abandon their current mission to retry again another day.

Stunned by their swift dismissal, Whumper stared after them in shock before hurrying along to their room. He hadn’t expected them to respond with such harsh indignation, and simply give up— no, just regrouping— after he caught them. Whumper had thought they would fight some more to make it out, they were right at the end after all, or at least cower under the weight of his frustration and fury. But they did neither. Their fire wasn’t as bright as before, but it hadn’t been completely put out yet. There was still a small spark eager to grow inside them, despite the months they had spent under him.

Whumper felt a crooked smile spread across his lips as he locked the bedroom door behind him. There was still a lot of fun left to have with Whumpee.

[bunnymedley]

everyone pray for me to get this job on monday btw

[egoarc4de]

ant mill wip #1536 so i can talk in the tags

[kayvsworld]

i always forget i have Healthcare System Anxiety until i have to interact with The Healthcare System and immediately just start screaming internally for days

[dksartz]

Little Blue Dreams

Acrylic on panel 6x6"

Reference from thekangaroosanctuary on insta from their video on Pippa the Joey's first steps. Sketched the kangaroo while watching the video, then sketched out the baby dragon based on that.

Young Blue pernese dragon in an abstract purple-red space.

[leconcombrerit]

Oh my god when that pig plushie gets in the mail I'm gonna carry him with me everywhere in the house and demand that everyone pays tribute to his glory, this thing is the cutest ever, a perfect little pig, I-

[joanbaezed]

so stressed my body hurts ummmmmmmm

[cosmical-flowers]

More art!!! Traditional art dump :)