To be creative means to be in love with life. You can be creative only if you love life enough that you want to enhance its beauty, you want to bring a little more music to it, a little more poetry to it, a little more dance to it.
I used to be one of those women who spent an hour or more doing my makeup every single day of my life. Like I wouldn’t leave my house to go get a cup of coffee or do grocery shopping without caking on a full face. And I lied to myself every single day about it. I told myself, as I penciled on my eyebrows, and lined my eyes with white eyeliner to make them look big and doll-like, and used thick oily foundations and concealers to hide every visible inch of my actual skin, that I loved doing this. That I was feeling more and more empowered with every inch of my face I covered up. That somehow, if I wore a bold lipstick shade or a unique eyeliner shape, I was making a feminist statement. By making my own flawed face flawless and therefore more marketable to men, I was taking charge of my own body and my own femininity. That’s how powerful advertising and media and social conditioning and all those other forces are. I thought spending hundreds and hundreds of dollars on makeup products and putting on a mask to cover my face just to leave my bedroom every single day was somehow empowering me.
And the point of this post is not to criticize women who wear makeup, I totally understand the pressure. In fact, I still do wear a little bit of makeup most days. And I still fucking lie to myself about it. I tell myself “Oh, it’s just a little concealer to hide my zits, and it’s just a little brow pencil- I’m no longer wearing makeup to make myself look like an unrealistic caricature of a woman, it’s just to enhance my natural beauty.” Which is just another lie that the beauty industry has sold women for years, that’s taking a long time for me to unlearn.
But overall as I become more and more comfortable without my makeup mask on, the more I realize that there’s nothing empowering, nothing glamorous, nothing healthy, nothing feminist about makeup and makeup culture. It really hurt me in my early teens, all the way up until now, and I want every woman who feels like she has to wear makeup, and every woman who knows she doesn’t to know that I totally support you. I’ll never be supportive of makeup culture ever again but to all those women who are still stuck in it, just know that your face doesn’t need to be fixed. Covering it up won’t ever make you feel better about it.
A/N: I honest to God have no idea what this is. This article came across my newsfeed and my brain did that thing (every writer in this fandom knows what I mean) and with enabling from one @xpumpkindumplingx, this came about even though I haven’t updated TMTC since October (still working on that, btw). Again, no idea what this is. It is teacher/student so if that’s not your jam feel free to give it a hard pass. The events that happen would not happy in real life but… fiction, right? Many thanks to @spartanguard for looking over this for me!
Rated: T FFNET| AO3 (will post when AO3 decides to bloody cooperate)
Killian Jones had seen many excuses for late assignments in his short teaching career but the one currently sitting in his inbox was by far the most extensive he had ever seen.
Killian Jones had seen many excuses for late assignments in his short teaching career.
A death in the family (a viable one, of course, except that one student whose grandmother died eight times in one semester) or the fact they were in a family member’s wedding and completely forgot about the assignment, even though every assignment he gave was on the course syllabus his students received on the first day of class. There was the one where they thought it was due another week (again, his course syllabus had the dates for all assignments) and the trickster excuse that it was showing in their sent email but not his inbox - like he was the seventy-year-old Mrs. Lucas who didn’t know how e-mail worked. Sickness of some sort was another one, although he doubted the one student had really had walking pneumonia but been able to drink his fellow classmates under the table that same night at the football game. His personal favorites were the dog had eaten their ten-page research essay and a tv show had left them emotionally compromised. He watched Doctor Who as well and while he could sympathize with their pain after the Doomsday episode, it still wasn’t a practical excuse.
But the one currently sitting in his inbox was by far the most extensive he had ever seen.
Ah, now this is a topic I’ve been lucky enough to discuss with
some dear mutuals over the years, so let me see if I can do an answer justice.
course, we can never know the
man, not truly; that is only for the very lucky few that are a part of his
life, his world. But there is so much we can deduce of him, based upon
his work, his words, his public deeds and behavior.
you look at his work alone, you see incredible natural talent that he has
refined through dedication & physical and mental discipline; you see a love
of the written & spoken word; and most especially you see a keen &
compassionate understanding of the human condition–for how else could he bring
such breathtaking truth to all of his characters? Even the wicked ones,
like Khan & Richard III–he makes us feel that even they have
reasons for the things they do, often rooted in emotional/psychological pain.
Though the evil they do is no less evil, we can sympathize to some degree,
with what brought them to that place. In
my lifetime I have seen no player more truly & more lovingly—in
Shakespeare’s words—hold the mirror up to nature.
interviews & public appearances, you find a humble, self-effacing man, a bright
wit, & sense of humor generous enough to make himself as likely a target of
jesting as anyone or anything else. He
values home, hearth, family, the environment, although he could easily give
over to hedonism on his bank account.
How many times do we see him wearing the same clothes, carrying that
same blue water bottle on set, even brown bagging his lunches at times?Choices, I’m sure, that reflect his commitment to simplicity and to reduce his carbon footprint.
Benedict’s charitable works have been well-recorded on this site, so I’m
not going to research it, but when I run across a post about it, I’ll be sure
to reblog for info’s sake.
won’t speak at length about his personal relationships, except to say that’s a
man who loves his wife thoroughly. It would frankly break my heart to learn he
had the same feet of clay of so many other public figures & celebrities in
this regard—what I see tells me he and Sophie have the real thing. And that he
guards his little family’s privacy so jealously is further testament to that.
short, (though this runs long) I trust my eyes & ears, and they tell me to
trust in the public image that is clearly on view. I see a man who gives as much positive energy
to the world as he can, and embraces life with complete joie devivre. And as I believe in the human soul, I see a
most spectacular one that shines luminously, not only enhancing his unique
physical beauty, but reminding me that true good is possible in a world that is
often quite selfish & mean.
could probably go on with dozens of more examples, but let me just finish with
one of my favorite photos of him, which for me reflects (I hope) a bit of what
I’ve written here.
Thank you for your ask–it was a delight to answer! ❤❤❤
“Theo,” You gasped, your hands finding their way to cover your gawked mouth. Theo drove you about an hour away from Beacon Hills; away from the madness. He blindfolded you as he guided you down a rocky pathway, you made numerous jokes about being led to your death which he would chuckle at. Once he told you to open your eyes, you eagerly tore the blindfold off your face and stared in shock at the view in front of you.
He drove you to a beach, somewhere you’ve been begging to go for so long. The moon was shining above you, with the stars swallowing it up as you caught a flicker of lights surrounding a blanket. You gazed up at Theo who nodded with an adoring smile on his face, you skipped along the rest of the pathway where you kicked off your shoes and let your toes finally melt into the sand. “Theo, this is…” You spun around in a circle, “Amazing.”
Author’s note: enjoy something extremely self gratuitous which I felt like writing despite having several prompts in my inbox (which I will 100% get around to writing)
Word count: 1,074
Warnings: couple of swears
A sigh left you as you dragged yourself off the couch after realising you had only an hour left to get ready for your date: one of the first ‘first dates’ you had had in a very long time. Using a significantly more refined technique of choosing an outfit as opposed to your daily method of ‘reach into the closet with your eyes closed and pull out the first thing you touch’, you managed to pick out something you were happy with. Pulling out a black silk playsuit with an open back and generous neckline, along with your favourite pair of matching lingerie - you never knew what could happen after dinner - you proceeded into your bathroom.
You turned the tap once. No water. Another turn. Still no water. Of fucking course your shower would break now. What more could be expected from a shitty room in a shitty college dorm? Having already taken off and discarded your clothes you wrapped your towel around your body, tying it securely to save you from any future indecency.
Gathering up your clothes and toiletries you steeled yourself, taking several calming breathes as you approached your door. Opening the door to your hallway you turned your head left and right, checking to see if the coast was clear before stepping out barefoot, and walking the short distance across the hall.
You reached Philip’s door, and hoping beyond hopes that he was in his room, you knocked quickly. Relief flooded over you as you first heard footsteps inside, preempting the opening of the door.
“Philip,” you began, not busying yourself with meaningless greetings. However, the look of confusion that immediately appeared on Philip’s face after he looked you up and down prompted you to give him an explanation. “My shower’s broken.” You stated simply, as if that would completely enlighten him.