#Will see if I can make it work

[hymnoire]

❛ you changed everything. ❜ --- for Gaya

"To me it's no diffrent than moving furnitures in a living room I did not like the decoration of anymore." A twisted smirk dances on her lips before going back to the usual severe of her lines. Ever since Kang Gaya Lockwood has been named Judge, she does change everything in a city that she considers now hers. The death of her father, the minister of Justice have paved the way for her to take his legacy. Vine words are never a coincidence, his mere presence here, isn't either. "Is it that you crave justice for the humans and view my politics as too authoritarian? Being called a dictator has never been an insult to me. I doubt you would care though, would you. " Her head is titled to the side as her steps lead her through the room, she is pacing. "Is it about Her." Her arms are crossed now. "I believe my sister holds some sort of fascination for you. Her and this insane desire she has to opens the gates between the living and .. what she seems to believe could be, the Gods, or Heavens and Hells." Dr. Kang Kaeleena Lockwood, known for her genius in the years - a genius Gaya has always considered madness. "I do know what you two have been doing. Disgusting little games with corpses and obscure rituals. What was it, was she luring you in to have sex down her autopsy tables?"The relationship between the sisters have went downhill on that Day, that one Day Kaeleena took it too far, that one day her expriment worked, that one day she created... it. Gaya had no chance but to lock Kaeleena up along with the creature she has created. The same way she is locking up all criminals in the city. To clean : that is her mission now. "Everything I do, I do it for the greater good."

𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐊 & 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 // accepting

[hinamie]

10 years later

[platoapproved]

louis + cruelty

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

not "i ship these characters" or "i want them to bond platonically" but a secret 3rd thing (I want them to be forced to interact by the Narrative bc they would HATE that)

[forgettable-au]

PROLOGUE

FORGETTABLE-AU (Page 1-9)

AND SO IT BEGINS!

I don't think I can fit all 20 pages of the prologue in just one post, so I'm dividing it into 4 posts! This one's the longest...

[CONTINUE]

[apollos-boyfriend]

so my younger cousin is flying in to visit from brazil on sunday, and will be staying here for like, the entirety of july. which, don't get me wrong, is super cool! i love the kid! but it felt like a super weird move, considering his parents are the SUPER strict and borderline helicopter parents. even the smallest prank/roughousing with him/his little sister would lead to a strict talking to from his parents, he couldn't ever do anything without their clear permission, that sort of stuff. so letting him fly at alone at 16 to a whole different country and stay there for a whole month seemed WILDLY out of character. additionally, it just felt like a super last-minute trip. it's not like we have any plans to do when he gets here, and the flight itself and stuff only got booked like, midway through june.

and i was talking to my mom about it, kind of trying to nudge some answers out of her, and after a while she went, "yeah, i think they're sending him over here to get away for his boyfriend. see if the distance breaks them off." which, first of all, surprised me because last i checked, they didn't KNOW he had a boyfriend. literally everyone in the family did EXCEPT for them because while that entire side of the family being semi-conservative, his parents (mostly his dad) are EXTREMELY old-fashioned. so clearly something already went wrong. and considering the only reason the rest of the family knew is because one person found out and it spread like wildfire, i have a sneaking suspicion he wasn't the one to tell them, either.

and second of all. they're sending him HERE. to try to make him forget his homosexuality. i couldn't do anything but just wordlessly gesture to the multiple pride flags scattered around my room, then to myself, because really? he has like two other cousins in the us and they're sending him to me? honey i am about to introduce this kid to queer scenes you have never even heard of. he'll be returning home with labels only shrimp can perceive

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[astearisms]

fionna and cake drawings before and after watching the episodes so far. it’s nostalgic and somehow cathartic and poignant and relatable and—it just started

[thebaldursmouthgazette]

I’m sure Dumat being defeated the same year andraste was born means nothing

I’m sure this has nothing to do with the fact that andrastes mother was part of a tribe who helped the grey wardens fight and defeat dumat the same year she was born, meaning that she could have been a fetus affected by the taint in the proximity of a dying arch demon

And the fact that nobody knows which grey warden killed dumat, as seven wardens died from injuries from his death throes, and therefore we cannot actually identify a warden who absorbed his soul, means nothing

And I’m sure it is a complete coincidence that andraste had dreams and visions of the being later referred to as the maker her whole life, and behaved strangely, talking about hearing lost voices and seeing strange auras. That absolutely doesn’t sound like anyone else we know

[aardvaark]

i <3 when parker appears out of thin air

[hollytree33]

Hi so I might’ve made a painting of my Inquisitor while trying to mimic Solas’s style so I can pretend he made it

[theoldkyokodied]

One wedding and three funerals

Background paintings under the cut

[hinamie]

*catboys ur shounen protag*

[pangur-and-grim]

Belphie is such an interesting kitten, compared to the other two.

baby Grim presented some challenges, because she loved to destroy property (mostly climbing various shelves and mantles and knocking everything she could to the floor), she was mildly aggressive toward Marmaduke the family cat (she felt that at the ripe age of 4 months, she deserved to be king), and she was fairly aloof for a kitten, more into running about than cuddling. in most ways, she was like a tiny mafia boss.

Pangur I instantly soul-bonded with, because she was so sickly and pathetic. and neurotic, too - everything was scary to her, people, places and animals. she’d explore the house and play, but there was always an ‘expecting an eagle to swoop down and grab her’ energy.

now Belphie! he’s a healthy active boy with zero fear, and zero aggression, but (fortunately or unfortunately) someone cranked his Play button to maximum and then broke off the handle. he is either fast asleep, and the cutest kitten on earth, or racing about and flailing and climbing and pouncing. which means that he can’t be let outside the kitten room unsupervised yet, because his baby willpower is only so strong, and he will eventually break and start jumping on Pangur and Grim. so in a way, he’s the healthiest happiest cat I’ve ever had, but he’s also the most complicated, because he still has to spend most of his time jailed in the kitten room.

[andsewingishalfthebattle]

Novice sewing pattern: Cut out shapes. Line up the little triangles on the edges. Stitch edges together. We've also included step-by-step assembly instructions with illustrations.

Novice knitting pattern: yOU MUSt uNDerstANd thE SECret cOdE CO67 (73, 87, 93) BO44 (63, 76, 90) 28 (32, 34) slip first pw repeat 7x K to end *kl (pl) 42 * until 13" (13, 13, 15) join new at 30 pl for 17 rows ssk 27 k2tog mattress lengthwise BO and sacrifice a goat to the knitting gods. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WANT "INSTRUCTIONS," I JUST GAVE THEM TO YOU

[purplecatghostposts]

You don’t understand, I NEED to see how Adrien would pretend to be Félix for something. I need some sort of situation where Félix needs Adrien to pretend to be him for a few hours so he can get away for a while and for Adrien to at first be like, “You sure? I’m kinda rusty but I think I can pull it off!” And then for Adrien to immediately dial up the dramatics the second he’s in Félix’s clothes.

I need Adrien to exaggerate all of his cousin’s traits, being over the top cryptic, cold, and snarky one moment then a dramatic showman the next. I need Adrien to visibly be having so much fun because he’s helping his cousin by making fun of him a little. I need Félix to witness Adrien’s performance and be like, “Oh no, he’s terrible, this was a mistake—” but then be absolutely wrecked by the knowledge that NOBODY is noticing a difference aside from like, Kagami and have a mini crisis of “Is this how I act?? That’s not how I act?? How are they falling for this??”

And by the end of it Adrien is like, “Y’know, that was really fun! We should do this more often, I see why you do it all the time! :D” And Félix is just sitting there. Head in hands. Grappling with this new information.

Also just:

Adrien, pulling out an absurd amount of stolen rings out of his pockets: Also what do you do with these once you’ve got them? I might’ve committed to the role a little too much.

Kagami, nodding along very seriously: Your method acting is incredible.

Félix, staring in horror: I’m not a kleptomaniac… Am I?