as palaces burn


Harlem in the 1920s & 30s, as the circuit parties of their day, the drag balls provided a startling glimpse of the national scope of gay life. Men traveled from across the country to attend the Hamilton Lodge Ball and other cities’ signature balls, and partisans trumpeted the virtues of the New York ball over its rivals in Chicago, New Orleans, and Berlin. Those who couldn’t attend the balls were treated to detailed accounts of them in the black press and Broadway gossip sheets. 

What are you doing here?
What do you want?
Is it music?
We can play music.
But you want more.
You want something & someone new.
Am I right?
Of course I am.
I know what you want.
You want ecstasy
Desire & dreams.
Things not exactly what they seem.
I lead you this way, he pulls that way.
I’m not singing to an imaginary girl.
I’m talking to you, my self.
Let’s recreate the world.
The palace of conception is burning.

Look. See it burn.
Bask in the warm hot coals.

You’re too young to be old
You don’t need to be told
You want to see things as they are.
You know exactly what I do

After Akira and Ryuji have fought Kamoshida's henchmen
  • Akira, to Shadow Kamoshida: Alright! That’s enough! Tell us how to free Takamaki and we’ll burn this Palace to the ground.
  • Morgana: Don’t you mean or…
  • Akira, irritated: Tell us how to free Takamaki [looks angrily at Mona] OR we’ll burn this Palace to the ground.

Lance: So I can either bake these cookies at 400 degrees for 10 minutes or 4,000 degrees for 1 minute.


Lance: FLOOR IT?






yamameta-inc  asked:

p5/khr au

Sawada had been a well-dressed young man with clear intent in his eyes when Akira had found him waiting in Leblanc’s attic. Soft-spoken and painfully shy, surrounded by three other men, none of whom looked nearly as friendly.

“Change my heart,” he had asked, with a twist on his face that looked like a grimace.

Sawada’s Palace was nothing like any of them had expected.

It burned.

Walls of ice and walls of fire welcomed them, unbearable heat and bone-chilling cold, a floor melted by the flames or made slippery by water. Every room hid a shadow and all shadows looked too stark and personal to be anything but someone that Sawada had mourned.

The scrawny, scared little boy with wild brown hair and eyes had blood dripping from every one of his fingers endlessly.

He never said anything to them. The shadow dogged Joker’s footsteps and whimpered and pleaded but never attacked or spoke. He cried when they beat a shadow. For some shadows, he cried harder than the others.

When Ann dealt the finishing blow to a boy with red hair who controlled gravity, Sawada’s child self choked so hard on his own sobs that even Morgana wanted to help.

Joker didn’t want to stay here any longer than they had to. The heat wasn’t any more real than the clothes they wore were, but he still felt his coat stick to his skin and slow his movements considerably; Yusuke looked ready to keel over, and the leather of Makoto’s outfit was leaving bright red marks on her skin that he felt his own echo under his gloves.

Sawada’s Treasure was guarded by a string of six shadows. One of them wasn’t even as old as Joker himself.

“What the fuck was that?” Ryuji whispered once the one with the sword, one of the men who had accompanied Sawada to Akira’s home, fell.

Sawada’s shadow had long stopped crying. He was hovering in place near them, face wet with sweat and tears, blood dripping from his tiny hands.

Joker didn’t answer. He strolled to the small black box behind where the last of the shadows had stood and picked it up. Forcing the lock open was difficult with the heaviness in his hands and the sweat slicking his fingers; he had to pause with a grunt, to drink in some of the bitter medicine that Takemi had made, just so he could open it.

There was a child’s toy on the black velvet inside. A yellow pacifier.

Sawada didn’t cry when he saw it. He put his red hand on it, said, “I’m sorry,” and smiled.

The pacifier started glowing; once it was done, Sawada dissolved slowly, and the blood was gone from his hands.

“Oh my God,” Makoto let out, almost a whimper. “Let’s just—”

“Yeah,” Joker cut in. He pocketed the pacifier and tried to ignore how warm it was through the fabric of his pants—as if it were alive. “Let’s go.”

The Palace burned itself to ashes slowly as they left. The ice walls melted, and the vapor that emerged from it was streaked with colors.

Akira and his friends emerged into the wide and abandoned living-room of the house where Sawada had directed them. Sawada was waiting at the dusty table, an untouched cup of coffee sitting cold in front of him.

Ann and Ryuji recoiled violently at the sight of him.

“How did it go?” Sawada asked them.

His voice didn’t betray anything. Akira was familiar enough with feeling the earth shatter under his feet that he recognized the shortness of his breath, though.

“It went fine,” he answered, and, masking his own screaming unease, he walked toward the man.

When he put the pacifier in Sawada’s hands, Sawada didn’t close it immediately. The look on his face had a little bit of rapture in it, and a lot of aching regret. “Thank you,” he said.

Akira should go. He had several severely unsettled friends to comfort waiting three meters behind him, exhaustion coursing through his whole body, the smell of blood in his nose…

He asked, “Whose was it?”

Sawada’s hand closed on the toy gently. “A mentor’s,” he replied. “Someone who would be very disappointed to see me now.”

“It’s not too late to fix it.”

The eyes that met Akira’s were gentle. “Sometimes it is. Make sure to never reach that point, Phantom Thief.”

I LOVE THE NEW ALBUM Clay Palace Estates BY: NathanaelWouldLikeToFight

-Burn Marks
-Don’t Die to Become a Role Model
-To the Conceivable Edge of This Planet
-Role Models Always Live
-Flawless Due To Architecture
-I Would Enjoy Informing You
-I Can Only Visualize This
-We On Fire

And last but not least

-ClayPalace Estates

  • The Jedi Council: Obi-Wan, are you sure you are still able to give an objective analysis of Anakin's adherence to Jedi principles?
  • Obi-Wan, from where he is lovingly braiding Anakin's hair and adorning it with daisy chains: Sorry, what?

DEAR FRIENDS: “you inspire me more than you think”


dear friends “fuck the old generation
start something new”

we’re about to release a new documentary about east bay punk rock.. it’s a document about a time in our lives of being young. trying new ideas. and singing along together.. but just remember that this is the past.. if you get anything out of a documentary it should be to start something new and blaze a new trail. do not listen to any so called elder statesman’s opinion about what YOU are doing.

most likely if it doesn’t make sense to the previous generation then they are too old to get it. and they allowed time to get the best of them.. and they have not earned your respect .

I never want to be an elder statesman or royalty of anything.
most likely that palace burned to the ground many years ago.. the future punks and poets are the ones that create something new.

if there are young kids practicing in the garage, turn that garage into a gig and invite all your friends.

if you have a microphone and GarageBand or a cassette tape. record it and make it your album.. if you get sick of reading about opinions and bands you don’t like, start your own fanzine and speak your truth.

if someone tells you your not good enough. tell them they were never invited and do it anyway.

many people have a war story but most of them have never seen war.. just be true to yourself. as I know you do.. I love all the green day fans because they have passion and desire to live life on their own terms. to be weird and loud and create something new that some people just don’t get. and therefore you inspire me more than you think.

eternal gratitude
rage and love

Inspiration for Writers from Hamilton Lyrics

“Put a pencil to his temple and connected it to his brain.” (Alexander Hamilton) [x]

Put yourself on the page, let your words be a part of you, unfiltered.

“You have no control who lives, who dies, who tells your story.” (History Has Its Eyes on You)

Give up your story to the characters. Let what needs to happen, happen.

“I wrote my way out. I looked up and everyone had their eyes on me.” (Hurricane)

Originally posted by not-throwing-away-my-shot

The only way to get to where you want to be is by writing. Don’t worry about what others will think, don’t worry about impressing them. Block it out and write.

“… and he wrote it down, right there.” (The Reynolds Pamphlet)

Originally posted by sweetsenselesswords

Sometime, someday, you will write something embarrassing. If Hamilton can survive the Reynolds Pamphlet you can survive too.

“You wrote me palaces out of paragraphs.” (Burn)

Originally posted by heaven-by-the-sea

Never doubt the power of the written word to evoke true emotion in people, joy, sorrow, even love.

“I just need to write something down…” (Best of Wives and Best of Women) [x]

If it’s the last thing you will ever write, would it be worth writing?


“Write day and night like you’re running out of time” (Non-Stop)

ferfrancuito  asked:

After watching the trailer I remembered the visions Rey had.. Luke an artoo witnessing something burning and the knights of ren shot raining.. and now in the new trailer Luke sees like a palace burning and if you look closely it seems that it starts raining.. do you have any thoughts about that?

uhm it seems to be the same scene? i know a lot of ppl thinks that part is the past but there’s also theories that rey havent seen the past but the future even tho it’s raining and that scene where knights of ren appears (and it looks like that scene is past) it’s also raining.

if it;s the past it’s prob kylo ren killing luke’s students (and i think it’s rey’s  force vision again or luke’s) and we will finally see what happened and how. i mean we know kylo killed all of them etc but we will see what happened.

I had Discworld thoughts again…

So Carrot is a dwarf, right? And what distinguishes dwarves? They all have beards and they’re all (at least when Carrot was growing up in Copperhead) considered men. Until Cheery, there was no openly female dwarves.

But Carrot is always drawn and described as clean-shaven (we get pretty regular descriptions. He’s tall -around 6′6″, has short red hair and is clean shaven). Why though? Surely as a dwarf, regardless of height, he’d want to grow a beard, especially considering how important a beard is to dwarvishness (no references, but isn’t it canon that if a dwarf can’t grow a beard, they buy a fake one?).

We know his father kept his hair trimmed for Reasons of Hygiene, but maybe the reason Carrot doesn’t have a beard is because he can’t grow one…

Basically, I’m suggesting trans man Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson. After all, armour can compress quite a bit, and while the dwarvish gender system can grate upon those like Cheery, maybe for Carrot the reason he never questioned it was because he always identified as a man, well dwarf.

Imagine Vimes taking a while to realise, before quietly figuring it out. He considers for a long time what he should do with the information before eventually casually asking Cuddy about dwarvish gender. Cuddy is confused but explains how all dwarves are he and thus Vimes quietly settles down, deciding he can’t fault the boy, who after all is a good dwarf, and an amazing officer.

Nobby, who was the first Carrot actually told, because while Nobby may be a petty thief and his species is somewhere up in the air, once he’s your friend you can trust him with your life, if not your wallet. As the Watch begins to expand, Nobby is the one who kicks up a fuss about the privies and gets a few individual ones set up away from the big communual ones. Carrot gives him some dwarf bread, sent down fresh from the Copperhead hills in thanks. Nobby then turned out to be the one being capable of eating Ironfoundersson dwarf bread. Carrot now shares his monthly care package with Nobby.

Colon, who never worked it out, who only found out when Angua and Nobby got onto the topic whilst patrolling together and was shocked beyond measure. Lots of exclamations of “But the lad’s near 7 foot!” and “He never said!” were proclaimed. Luckily, the bustle of Sator Square hid the shouts. After the initial shock, he’s odd around Carrot for a few months before Carrot very earnestly asks him what he’s done wrong. They have a long talk but things only really return to normal when Carrot talks down the Slabbed-out troll who was about to eat Colon.

Angua, who knew the moment she met Carrot, but knowing the customs of dwarves thought nothing of it. It’s only when she asks him about it, after the incident with the gonne that she realises that he isn’t just living within the dwarvish monogender (which technically is neither male or female, dwarves are just dwarves), Carrot identifies with the human male. She shrugs it off. Igors became Igorinas and vice versa all the time back in the Old Country. And she liked Carrot, just as she had liked both Gavin and Ygritte, the poor foolish human that Wolfgang had taken great delight in hunting.

Deterius, also, works it out surprisingly quickly. He may not be academic but he’s a good sergeant and sergeants are good with people. It takes him a while to get the idea properly formulated in his head, but when he does he methodically files it away. After Cuddy died, he made a point of studying dwarvish customs and since Carrot is a dwarf, it makes perfect sense in his mind. He is a little more protective of Carrot than usually after that though, especially in situations when he could be in danger for who he is.

It took Cheery a very long time to realise why Carrot was so afraid of her decision to present as a woman. Eventually, she stormed into his office and demanded to know why he didn’t approve. Only when Carrot quietly responded with “If you do it, eventually someone might force me to as well, and that’s not me. I am a he, I am a dwarf who is definitively he, never she.” did she understand. They eventually came to a comfortable agreement, secretly meeting up every few weeks to chat about gender and dwarvishness. Eventually, Cheery coaxes him along to the feminine-dwarf support group and while at first the dwarves are uncomfortable with him being there, once Carrot explains they end up with two of their number admitting that while, if a human looked at it, they might be considered male, they identify as female regardless. Thus Carrot somehow ends up accidentally starting another offshoot group of dwarvish gender support for dwarves of either gender who might have strong feelings on their own gender which others, even those in support of women dwarves coming out, may disagree with.

Vetinari knew from the start, of course he did. He finds it mildly amusing, that Carrot, the One True King of Ankh-Morpork, would by some only be accepted as a Queen if his information became common knowledge. Originally he kept it as blackmail. Over the years, as it became clear Carrot not only had worked out his origins but was actively hiding them, did Vetinari one night creep into a hidden room in the palace and burn a series of genology, a chit of birth and the diary of a midwife, long since dead and longer still paid off.

The Igor in the Watch first finds out when Angua brings Carrot in bleeding, from a knife wound to the gut. She curses him out, making it clear that if anything happens to Carrot, or if one word is breathed of this to anyone outside this cellar, she would tear him beyond even an Igor’s saving. Igor simply nods. A few months later, both he and Carrot are on leave at the same time. It’s only after that does Carrot take his shirt off for the first time in the Watch showers to clean up, no scar from the stab wound visible. After all, Igors are good at what they do, and when they want to, they won’t leave a mark.