#creative order

[ladyhawke]

10 YEARS OF BLACK SAILS (2014–2017) – Created by Jonathan E. Steinberg & Robert Levine

[abd-illustrates]

✨ My book is out next week! (on the 16th!)✨

I got some early copies in the post today and getting to actually hold 'em made me cryyyyy - I'm so happy and I still can't believe my art's gonna be in actual bookstores out in the big wide world 🥹💖📖

[sol-rust]

[blackkatdraws2]

There are more things in the Parable than Stanley knows about. [Blank Scripts AU]

[premamelody]

derg

[pouletpourri]

happy (late) valentines, here's some cards I forgot to post ft the silly bird men

[agravetokeep]

Pt 1 / ?

[hikaruchen]

I’ll keep the king when you are gone away. I’ll keep him safe from the dark things that wait. — King by The Amazing Devil

INPRNT | COMMISSION INFOS

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Some details for archaeology nerds (Here we go again AHAHAHA)

First of all the costume Alfred wears in this pic is BY NO MEANS historical accurate, but if we really want to be 100% accurate then to my knowledge there’s a high chance that Alfred wouldn’t be wearing dresses gowns at all (whoever decided to make Alfred wear those pretty cough dresses cough in the show I wish your family to prosper for all eternity YOU’RE A HERO), so instead I just chose to design whatever clothes I want and add some Anglo-Saxon elements in it :)

1. Alfred’s earrings

Took inspiration from the 7th century Anglo-Saxon/Frankish crystal ball, now in Ashmolean Museum, Oxford. Here’s the thing, I know English men (and the monarchs) don’t wear earrings until the 16th century and earrings weren’t even popular during the Anglo-Saxon period, but once I saw Charles I wearing pearl earrings in his portrait I just can’t help but put something pretty on Alfred’s ears as well lol…Sadly I can’t find the exact size of this one but the official site says that it was used as a pendant/an amulet! Probably for pagan practices though, but it’s pretty, isn’t it? :D

2. Patterns on Alfred’s gown

Taken from the patterns on the Bewcastle Cross in Cumbria (which used to belong to Northumbria, built in around the 7th to early 8th century, aka the period Bede lived in.

3. The woven band

The pattern is taken from the Laceby band found in Laceby, Lincolnshire, dated to early 7th century. It seems both Scandinavians and Anglo-Saxons enjoy wearing tablet-woven bands? Saw this kind of things a lot in viking clothes reconstruction as well.

4. …Whatever this is

From fol. 34r in Book of Kells, the famous Celtic gospel book completed in Ireland circa 800 AD. As you can see I got lazy during drawing this lol but the illustrations in the original manuscripts are really impressive!

Now I don’t know if this is a good news or not but I’ve still got like…six wips for alhtred in hand…Good god of arts DELIVER ME

[fictionadventurer]

I'm fascinated by the ways in which the things a creator is good at making don't necessarily line up with the kind of art that they respect or even enjoy.

This has haunted me ever since I saw a Youtube video about the downfall of The Band Perry, a country band that I had liked until their music got weird and they kind of fell off the face of the earth. Well, it turns out that they tried to reinvent their image and their style of music several times before the band finally fell apart. When they started, they had this weird Southern Gothic homeschooler style that really worked for them and was reasonably popular, but then they tried to switch to a cooler type of pop music--a style they supposedly admired and enjoyed--and it just did not work at all. They failed because they chased what they wanted to make instead of sticking with the style that they were good at.

It's a tension that's present in all creative work. At one point does "going outside the box" go too far? Can one be happy making good work even if it's not the kind of stuff they like or admire? Are the techniques and styles that are most appealing to us appealing because they're things that we can't create ourselves? As in, our minds don't work that way, so seeing these things from other creators is exciting, but the fact that our minds don't work that way is exactly why we can't imitate those things. Where's the line between creative integrity--pushing yourself to make better things--and pride--wanting to make something more prestigious and impressive instead of humbly making the type of art you're best suited to make? Can one even clearly see what they're best at making, and appreciate the good that's there rather than chasing after styles and techniques that seem better? There are no solid answers, which is why I'm going to be endlessly thinking about this.

[casualavocados]

Behind him there were other figures, even more shadowy than he was, even more silent. They seemed to be of the same company and of the same kind, but they had no faces that were visible and no voices that spoke; [...] Roger's face was different. His expression was the only one that contained hope. She said, "Why d'you look like that? Why en't you miserable, like them? Why en't you at the end of your hope?" And he said, "Because you're Lyra."

HIS DARK MATERIALS | Season 3 — THE AMBER SPYGLASS

[thatswhywelovegermany]

An ice cream parlor has created a variety named "Ähm" (German for "Ummm"), which he serves all clients that start their order with "ähm..." ("ummm..."). It is a blend of white chocolate and pistacio ice cream.

Alessandro Cimino, had the idea when one of his clients couldn't decide and kept just saying "ähm" while the queue behind him grew longer and longer. Now, whenever a client says "ähm", he gets one ball of Ähm in his cone. Ähm is now the second most sold variety, coming just short after Vanilla.

The parlor is known for its witty inventions. During the coronavirus pandemic, they had an Antivirus ice cream with an intense taste of ginger and a hint of orange. And in the times when strict social distancing rules were in place, they sold a garlic ice cream, which served the purpose of increasing the social distance between prople from 1.5 meters to 3 meters.

[drarry-reccage]

Pop Up Pals by bambimoss (62k,E)

Tags: Auror!Harry, Pensieves, Loneliness, Accidental Voyeurism

Upon further inspection, Draco could confirm that the other pots harboured similar contents. There were thirty marbles in total, a month’s supply if you used them daily. Draco opened up a small parchment with a colour coded key on it explaining the details of the charms. It had been a custom order this time, three different colours for three different people. It had made the purchase more expensive but Draco was good with money, only splashing out when he wanted a treat. He glanced down at the key: Pop Up Pals! Never Be Lonely Again. Simply deploy the charm in the comfort of your own home and your imaginary custom designed friend will appear. Whether you want a good natter, a shoulder to cry on or an opponent for Monopoly, Pop Up Pals is Your Friend. Orange = Magalie Green = Lisette Yellow = Philippe Draco nodded to himself and fished out an orange marble, rolling it carefully around in his fingers before whispering “Verae amicitiae,” and throwing the marble at the floorboards. A moment later there was a loud popping noise and a cloud of orange smoke wafted around the sofa. “Draco?” a pretty woman in her early thirties was sat beside him. Her skin was dark and her hair was a mane of glossy curls, she was wearing a large cream cashmere sweater and her eyebrows were knitted together. “Mags,” Draco smiled.

(Rec by @cailynwrites)

[tiptapricot]

Kombatember Day 8: Wounded

(Warnings for semi graphic descriptions of gore/injury, and choking.)

———

“Lao!”

Raiden grunts in pain as he stumbles again, hand clutched against his side as he ducks beneath another blast of energy and weaves past a pair of fighting Mileenas.

The pyramid is swarming with bodies around him, order and darkness clashing along the stone steps in a battle fit to shape an era. Raiden was proudly among them when it all started, happy to serve his Lord Quan Chi and lay waste to these invading forces just as he was asked, but now…

“Kung Lao.” He skids to a halt, practically crumpling to his knees as his hands slide through wet hair and slick red to shakily cradle his head in his lap. “Oh, by Shinnok’s mercy, no.”

There’s a line, cleaved cleanly across the flesh of his throat, parting his trachea open like a fish’s dead maw. Kung Lao himself is staring straight up, his eyes bright green and manic as they flick across the sky, but when Raiden comes into view, his gaze locks onto him, a gurgling, wet, cough bubbling up past his lips as one hand lifts weakly off the ground to reach for him. Raiden quickly takes it in a vice, thumb running gently over the back of his hand.

“It will be alright,” he says, hoping his words are audible over the clashing sounds of kombat all around them. “When we are victorious, Master Quan Chi will revive you with the Netherrealm’s fire.”

Kung Lao blinks, jerking slightly as he chokes again. Raiden feels the hope in his heart falter.

“Lao,” he hisses, “you cannot leave me yet.”

He is not meant to. It is not their time. By the great orders of Shang Tsung himself, they are meant to be young harbingers in a new wave of conquest. They are creations, born to carry the legacies of their faithful forefathers, born to serve, and serve together.

But now…

Raiden curls over Kung Lao, pressing his limp hand to his cheek as something foreign and inhuman rises in his throat.

They were not meant to get attached, he knows that. The ranks of great darkness are not built for love, and yet… they found it. In the long years of training, and the feasts of endless victory. Fleeting and hidden and visceral and awful. Two mutants of hell’s belly forged to fight at each other’s side and finding commonplace in the steady rot of their hearts.

“Lao…” Raiden whimpers, pulling him closer. He feels fingers twitch against his cheek, another wet, popping, gurgle sounding out before they ever so weakly slide in to cup the side of his head. Raiden makes a pained sound.

“We will not surrender,” he says roughly. “I promise you that.”

He pulls away with a breath to meet Kung Lao’s eyes a final time, dull green blinking slowly as Raiden’s face tenses in anger.

“I will not surrender until their blood runs endless at my feet.”

Kung Lao smiles, just slightly, and with one final spurt of phlegm, laughs.

[safifonhasstrel]

The Eras - Dany's Version

[chamerionwrites]

See I honestly do find the prequels-era Jedi an interesting (and at times painfully recognizable) portrait of institutional violence in that...they aren't cackling villains. They're mostly sympathetic well-intentioned individuals who via a combo of traditionalist inertia, ideological blinders, proximity to power, a dash of plain old arrogance and a liberal seasoning of end-justifies-the-means compromise end up being at best indifferent to and at worst deeply complicit in some pretty heinous injustice. I don't even think this is a completely against-the-grain reading on my part. At the end of the day it's a pretty mild critique, but it's hard to argue that the PT is entirely uncritical of the Jedi imo.

Unfortunately the narrative is never interested in really sinking its teeth into that. And even more unfortunately, a chunk of the fandom will clutch its pearls in horrified outrage if anybody else is interested in sinking their teeth into that

[s0fter-sin]

last thing i’ll say; people aren’t owed free content but creatives aren’t owed financial compensation either