#extracurriculare

[cryptic-forge]

t h e f i s h

fish is a minor npc from my dnd campaign. she is a nixie who appears as a school of fish underwater, and humanoid on land.

this mini diorama is made of clear & blue plastic sheets and 3d printed fish. the plastic box is empty inside; the fish are all glued to each other and to the top of the box.

[wanologic]

The Mansons have Infinite Money

[yourfatherjustinmcelroy]

Rewatching the first few episodes of fhjy because i guess i have nothing better to do and the way you can see how kibblespilly was supposed to be a counter to riz is so fucking funny. Its all there from the very beginning- the attitude, the tactics, the way she interacts with the party and everything- this is supposed to be riz's counterpart to run against him for student body president and have a terrible battle of wits and barbs

But in a twist that is perhaps THE most befitting to her ideal story of running against the boy she chose to be her antagonist, the intrepid heroes just straight up not taking the bait resulting in her instead having to go toe to toe against her idealized perfect rival's aggressive near-flunkie unsubtle chaotic friend is SO FUNNY.

Like I know some people are disappointed we dont get the riz vs kipperlily presidential whatever, I know it doesnt make tons of sense in that specific narrative way. But the fucking hilarious meta that even this didnt go her way is so funny. Because instead of rogue sneaking and behind the shadows plays and spy vs spy shit, we have just outward schoolyard taunts and shit like kristen exploding and jumping over the school and the exact kind of play that baits kipperlily into rage every single time and its so fucking funny. Kristen runs naked through the school and does party stunts and is STILL BEATING HER. She even clearly constructed her party to mirror the bad kids perfectly and craft each of them their own nemesis/counterpart and for the most part it like kind of worked EXCEPT FOR HER.

It must drive her fucking crazy that her cute little plot of rogue vs rogue didnt pan out at fucking all despite ALL the signs pointing to that making the most sense. This was something she just couldnt predict, couldnt mastermind. She got up onto that metaphorical stage for a debate and instead was met with a clowning act. Its so funny. I love fantasy high. Nothing you could have done would have changed this, fourdogs. You never had any power at all.

[whatisamildopinion]

whatever the true reason is for Kipperlilly hating Riz specifically, there is something uniquely hilarious to me about the idea of this high strung rogue harboring this pathological, foaming-at-the-mouth-with-hatred, one-sided rivalry with another rogue student for two whole years, and then she shows up to the first day of junior year and gets read for filth by his cleric friend, who goes on the immediately surpass all previous levels of hatred and create a two-sided rivalry that the original rival is just tagging along with because of Friend Duties. absolutely hysterical that Riz hates Kipperlilly out of disdain for the ratgrinders and solidarity with Kristen, meanwhile Kipperlilly's main-character rivalry with Riz was usurped in roughly .5 seconds by Kristen Applebees whipping out "What are you, like, four dogs?"

[foreos]

brennan so clearly intended for riz to be the one running for class president

[cherry3-14]

[capesch-arts]

Okay y'all OC X Canon Yaoi lol

Men cannot confess normally, they need to kill eachother 😔

Extra 👇

[pidgefudge]

high schoolers with part time jobs are scary to me. how do you have time for that. when do you do all your homework

[starrycloak]

"It's not my fault you don't like girls" but the projection flavor leaning more towards "you're calling the practice of dating and kissing a girl 'stupid', but it's not my fault you aren't yet into partaking in all these intricate, often frustrating and yeah, sometimes even boring rituals all boys are expected to eventually participate in as a part of growing up. You don't get to rub it in my face that you feel like you have a free pass (for who-knows-how-long) to delay joining what basically feels like an after-school program our parents made us sign up for. It's only a matter of time until you catch on, and then I'll be the only one who truly doesn't know what he's doing. You don't get to give me hope by remaining unapologetically yourself against the tide for now, because I know you'll get in with the program any day now."

sometimes i think s3 Mike (along other repressed feelings) was somewhat envious of Will? how nobody (that matters) expects Will to do anything he doesn't want to (yet) and that, unlike him, Will is strong enough to not succumb to any pressure?? (oh buddy, you have no idea)

[childrenofcain-if]

D + MCs who do ballet? Classic they were a punk, they did ballet trope 🤭

How would it go if D somehow stumbled into MC dancing alone at a studio?

the music echoed softly through the studio, a haunting piece by rachmaninoff played on piano, filling the wide, empty space like smoke. it wasn’t the kind of music meant for performance—it was private, introspective, full of cascading notes that fell like raindrops on the skin.

you stretched your arms upward, your fingers trembling slightly before melting into the next move, a slow arabesque. the floor beneath your feet seemed alive, absorbing your every step and breath, your body moving as though the music was stitched into your veins.

the studio smelled faintly of resin and varnished wood, and the walls were lined with mirrors that reflected you in endless variations—an infinite string of dancers chasing one another in ghostly synchronization. the barre stretched along one side, but you weren’t touching it. you were in the center of the room, spinning lightly on the ball of your foot, every motion deliberate and delicate.

you were a swan, or at least that’s what you told yourself, gliding across the floor with a mixture of grace and control. but there was something raw beneath the practiced movements. dancing alone always brought out a part of you you couldn’t quite name, something wild and unpolished that made your heart beat a little faster.

outside the studio, D was grumbling to themself, rifling through their sheet music with a kind of irritated intensity. their classical music class had been predictably boring, full of lectures about bach’s counterpoint and unnecessarily complicated homework assignments.

“this is ridiculous,” they muttered as they stuffed the papers into their bag. “who cares how many times he modulates in a fugue? it’s like professor khan wants me to suffer.”

they were halfway down the hallway when the faint sound of music drifted to their ears, a piece they didn’t recognize but which tugged at something in them nonetheless. it wasn’t from their class, wasn’t the droning lecture about sonatas or fugues. this music was alive, sharp and sweet like glass catching sunlight.

D slowed their steps, distracted, and when they passed by the glass window of the studio door, they nearly walked into the wall.

they stopped. then they stepped back.

their gray eyes widened as they caught sight of you moving across the studio, your body arching and spinning in time with the music.

you weren’t even looking at the mirrors, weren’t watching yourself at all, as if you didn’t need to see your reflection to know you were beautiful. your hair was pulled back, a few strands escaping and sticking to your neck, and your face was focused, serene.

for a moment, D forgot to remind themself to breathe.

you didn’t look real, not in the fluorescent light of the studio or the sterile smell of the building. you looked like a painting, like something fragile and otherworldly that didn’t belong in the same space as the chipped tile floor or their scuffed sneakers.

“god, they’re unreal,” D muttered under their breath, and then snorted at themself. “get a fucking grip, rook.”

but they didn’t move away. instead, they opened the door slowly, slipping inside without a sound. you didn’t notice them at first, too lost in the dance, and D leaned back against the wall, their arms crossed as they watched you. their usual smirk softened into something unreadable, their practiced nonchalance dulled by the quiet awe in their expression.

when you finally stopped, mid-pirouette, and turned toward the mirror, you caught sight of their reflection. you jumped slightly, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath.

“D?” you said, your voice breathy with surprise.

D pushed off the wall and took a few steps toward you, their smirk reappearing like a reflex.

“don’t stop on my account,” they said, their tone teasing but warm. “i was enjoying the show.”

your cheeks flushed, though you tried to hide it by rolling your eyes. “flatterer. how long have you been watching?”

“long enough to know i could never do that spinny thing,” D said, gesturing vaguely to the space where you’d been dancing.

you blinked at them, caught off guard, before laughing. “the spinny thing? you mean a pirouette?”

“sure, whatever it’s called,” D said, stepping closer. “i kind of wanna learn it.”

you hesitated, eyeing them skeptically. “you’re not exactly the most... graceful person, D.”

“hey,” they said, placing a hand over their chest in mock offense. “i’ll have you know i’ve got excellent rhythm. i just… don’t use it for dancing.”

you snorted but relented, gesturing for them to follow you to the center of the room. for the next few minutes, you tried to teach them the basics—how to balance, how to turn without tripping over their own feet.

D was, predictably, terrible. they stumbled more than once, their movements awkward and stiff, but you didn’t seem to mind. you laughed, the sound light and unrestrained. honestly, it didn’t seem like D cared much about looking foolish in front of you.

“i think i’m doing it,” they said at one point, wobbling precariously as they attempted a turn.

“you’re definitely not,” you said, laughing so hard you had to clutch your stomach.

“harsh,” D said, grinning despite themself.

but then, as you were correcting their stance, their hands brushed yours, and something shifted. the laughter died in your throat as D turned to face you fully, their gray eyes suddenly serious.

“you’re fucking amazing,” they murmured, their voice low.

before you could respond, they cupped your face in their hands and kissed you, their lips soft but insistent against yours. you froze for half a second before melting into the kiss, your arms wrapping around them.

the barre was behind you, cool against your back as D pressed closer, their hands slipping from your face to your waist. the kiss deepened, and for a while, the rest of the world fell away—the music, the mirrors, the studio. it was just you and them, tangled together, desperate and unthinking.

when you finally pulled back, breathless, you looked at them with wide eyes.

“what’s gotten into you?” you asked, half-chuckling.

D smirked, their forehead resting against yours. “i just couldn’t resist you, my sweet swan.”

you rolled your eyes, though there was no heat behind it, and pulled them into another kiss. when you finally broke apart again, D leaned in close, their breath warm against your ear.

“for the record,” they murmured, “i’m a much better performer in bed.”

you groaned, pushing them away playfully. “now you’ve gone and ruined the moment.”

“and yet, you’re still with me,” they said, grinning.

you shook your head, grabbing your bag and slipping your hand into theirs. together, you walked out of the studio, the music still echoing faintly behind you.

[cryptic-forge]

a while ago, partner & i went stick hunting for various projects and found a somewhat dragonish pine branch -> Stick Dragon Time!

all bark, sticks and lichen are natural materials, mostly unaltered except for some light drybrushing. the head and legs are 3d printed, and painted to match the wood. the whole noodle is about 1,5 meters long, and will reside on the living room wall. making this was the most fun i've had with a project in some time; there is a healing power to sitting on the bathroom floor for hours glueing scraps of wood together.

[super-who-locked-me-in-here]

I've been seeing some articles online about how now would be the perfect time to revive NBC Hannibal because Bryan apparently has ideas and Mads wants to finish the story and also we're coming up on the 10th anniversary of The Wrath of the Lamb in 2025, but how, because of the time between seasons, they'd most likely have to do a time skip in the show.

And I just have to say that I love that idea and I think that's how season 4 could thrive if it happened. Because the fandom has had nearly 9 years to think about and create their own post-fall headcanons, and there are bound to be people who maybe made art and fics and are in love with their post-fall idea and the show wouldn't turn out the way they wrote it in their fic or drew in their art and they'll be upset.

But what about 5-10 years after the fall? I don't know about y'all but I don't see a lot of fan works about that. And I think it'd be interesting to see what the NBC Hannibal team would do with a Will and Hannibal who are fully realized as murder partners, if not murder husbands.

If I could throw out an idea for what I think would be a funny way to show us Hannibal and Will in a timeskip season 4:

~~~~~

We're getting a moving view through their house in Cuba. It's dark outside and dark in the house, too. We can hear the sounds of Will and Hannibal somewhere else in the house, grunting and breathing heavily.

Will pants out, "Move faster."

"Patience Will. I'm not as young as I used to be."

A laugh escapes Will and he grunts again, "You didn't seem to have much trouble thirty minutes ago."

"That was thirty minutes ago. This is now. Perhaps if you're so spry then you don't need my assistance finishing this." Hannibal remarks.

There's a loud thud. "Hannibal!" Will accuses, although he sounds more annoyed than angry.

The camera finally pans to a hallway in the house where we see Will carrying a dead man by his underarms and his lower half is dropped unceremoniously at Hannibal's feet.

Will sighs and looks at Hannibal. "Will you help me with the cuts? Please."

The corners of Hannibal's lips turn up. He's never been able to deny Will when he uses that word. He bends down with another quiet grunt and picks up the corpse by its feet, and the two of them move into a room at the end of the hallway and shut the door.

~~~~~

[spicyvampire]

"This is just a matter of negotiating" why Kant said that like he is about to suck the cop off to get Bison a get out of jail free card

[robo-milky]

*Frollo tsum holding a fucking confetti popper is crazy 💀 What is he doing at an idol concert-

I’d like to imagine that for the things Rollo does do without magic, he’s super prideful about it and would push his peers to excel at them too. Maybe not Gordon Ramsay level, but it’d be a funny thought.

[dewey-ing-it]

If I think about Donald raising three kids alone for too long, I burst into tears. Like right now. I’m sobbing.