it's not perfect but it's better than nothing

anonymous asked:

I understand the passion and loyalty towards Malec, what I don't understand is that some of the fandom fails to accept any sort of criticism about the pairing, or any statement that would deem that they're not a perfect couple. Malec is undoubtedly endgame and I'm not concerned if they were to break up. It's inevitable, even if only for an episode. Like any couple they will be faced with trials & misunderstanding. They will anger & hurt one another. They won't see eye to eye. All this is normal.

Originally posted by yourreactiongifs

Your comic is amazing, clearly inspiring hundreds (and maybe even thousands) of people, myself included.

It got me thinking, judging how mostly successful Elsewhere University is for the Fae, that other lessor courts would do similar things at other universities, some more successful than others. Possibly even forming rivalries between the courts/schools.

This is just a quick set up of one other university, doing things somewhat differently than Elsewhere, but the game and the rules of the Fae are still the same.

—–

Elsewhere University is not the only University of its type.

The University of Fairfield

The University of Fairfield is old, established sometime before the Industrial Revolution.

Fairfield is named such due to its location, an open field where the weather is somehow always fair: sunny, a few clouds, a light breeze.

The founders of the school had not done their research. Or perhaps they were otherwise influenced. For Fairfield has its name for another reason.

It is home to a court of Fairfolk. (make no mistake it is no field, it is a fairy hill with old and strong magic to appear not as such)

The University of Fairfield was small, only a couple of buildings built upon the land of the Fairfolk. (although the silly mortal humans did not realize their error until it was too late) They had failed to ask for permission to build, but the Fairfolk let them, thus a favored was owed. The price of that favor was people, regularly. So people went missing and some, not all, came back and they came back changed. Some clearly fae-touched, others simply charmed, most just scarred from the experience.

Officially the University of Fairfield did not even last a decade, shutting down and closing after a couple of years.

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Turn Off Your Phone

Smut and stuff. Don’t be mean, I did my best T.T Listen to this while you read!

Originally posted by katyazhuravlik

Isak Valtersen is a work of art. Lithe and bright. The hands that painted him took their time. Perfected every spot and curve. His smile, often times, is soft little thing, barely wide enough to show off his teeth. His skin is silky smooth and Even wants to touch and taste and - 

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hey if you aren’t seeing a therapist or can’t afford one but want or need some kind of guidance i recommend kati morton’s youtube channel. she’s an actual therapist and makes a bunch of different types of videos all surrounding mental health such as explaining different disorders and recommending coping methods or treatments. she has a super soothing voice and is very understanding to all different kinds of people and watching her voices has actually helped me be better so check her out maybe?

Yes Veganism Isn’t perfect

But its better than doing nothing at all

Dont tell me its pointless because it isn’t perfect

Dont even dare try and convince me I should be apathetic about cruelty in the world like you

I wont be

I don’t care how little it matters to you
Ill fight for animals till my dying breath

Dont try to silence me with your apathy

2

FILLING STATION BAR CAFE | 07/19/17

Comforting setting, luncheonette classics like fries, burgers, and milkshakes spiked with plenty of whiskey are perfect reasons to eat out in a diner. From its red bar stools to its checkered floors, nothing feels better than being surrounded by the sound of The Zombies’ The Time of the Season and other songs back in the 50’s and 60’s.

I like how this restaurant, through its dècors, makes the customers feel like they are in a vintage diner. The past fascinates everyone and this place is pretty much clever of luring customers by bringing them back in time. This diner from Makati has exemplified itself with its style, and by offering a real taste of the west side. Aside from its outstanding interior, its extensive breakfast and lunch menu is sure to be enough to keep you occupied and I’m not kidding at all. Although, the menu is a bit pricey, you get what you pay for. 

This place is a perfect hideout for a group of old soul people. Entering this place feels like passing through a time machine and everything modern just disappears into thin air. It’s an escape for people like me.

anonymous asked:

Pretty sure Gabriel Reyes has done a lot of things wrong. Like, a shit ton. Mostly all of the things. He's a fantastic character, I'm not saying you shouldn't like him or feel strongly about him, but I feel like people should really just... Actually acknowledge when people do wrong. And this doesn't just apply to "bad guys" either - Jack's done wrong, Tracer has most likely done wrong, Genji and McCree have definitely done wrong, hell, even Winston's done wrong.

Ok but actually, Gabriel Reyes has never done anything wrong in his life, ever

2

The Vile

Scorn, as it calls itself, is arguably one of the most unsavory individuals in the Jasper caste. It is a maker of poisons that not only work fast, but are also nigh untraceable, which makes them perfect for spiking the drink of a dragon that one wants to dispose of. Scorn also accepts jobs that will require them to directly “take care of” individuals, and most that do employ it to take such a job know better than to ask the means through which the target was killed. Or disposed of, for that matter. Scorn is very good at what it does, and it holds no remorse for any that it harms. 

Scorn is nothing short of a manipulator in its own right, able to smooth talk its way out of sticky situations and also into getting what it wants. Of course, the chilling aura that sends a crawling shudder down the spine of whomever it’s speaking to helps. It is said, even, that Scorn can drive others to madness by whispering in their ear.

Deep in the underbelly of the darker workings that take place in the empire, careful and out of reach of Rasha’s mirrors, rumors circulate about the Spiral, about its origins and just what it really is…

The first thing one would notice about Scorn is the otherworldly glow that can be seen, at least dimly, even through its clothing, coming from its belly, chest, and throat. The glow travels to its eyes, the eyeballs themselves seeming completely absent, replaced by eerie, sickly green orbs one would expect to see in some sort of specter. The glow is present even in their claws, seeping through their fingertips. 

The second would be how Scorn speaks. A low, smooth–too smooth–drawl, often accompanied by a lazy grin that promises danger along with a show of too-sharp teeth that are unnatural to any normal Spiral. Scorn never speaks in the first person, either; consistently speaking in the third person instead. 

The third, if one looks close enough, would be the lurking shapes that seem to slither within the glowing presence in the dragon’s torso. Dark shapes that move just behind the glow, unable to be quite made out, but all the same black out the glow if they moved in just the right way….

‘Careful,’ It would advise anyone that looks too close, grin widening and a black ichor bubbling up from behind their lips, dripping down their chin. ‘Wouldn’t want to be…infected.’

@frxemriss

4

Before and After!!!! I dont have any before pics profile view in my binder but theres even a big difference from that to how i am now! Theres suuuuuch a big difference! Its amazing to look down at myself and see more than just boobs, people can actually see the designs on my tshirts now! And once ive healed i know i wont have anymore neck or back pain because of how big they were compared to me!
And more than just apperance, as you can see in the pictures its changed so much about me! I havent been able to stop smiling since my surgery, im more confident and happy with my body! Its not perfect, insurance wouldnt cover a full removal, but its better than nothing and i can save up to have the rest removed
But god i just feel and look like a different person and i am so fucking happy

Monsters Inc. Sentence Meme
  • "There is nothing more toxic or deadly than a human child."
  • "Without scream, we have no power."
  • "It looks like its going to be a perfect day to maybe, hey, just lie in bed, sleep in."
  • "We know the challenge, the window of innocence is shrinking."
  • "We're working for a better tomorrow, today."
  • "We scare because we care."
  • "What can I say? The camera loves me."
  • "You've been jealous of my good looks since the fourth grade, pal."
  • "But its impossible to get a reservation there!"
  • "Shh, shh, shh. Do you hear that? Its the winds of change."
  • "One of these days, I am really going to let you teach that guy a lesson."
  • "I'm watching you. Always watching."
  • "Kids these days. They just don't get scared like they used to."
  • "The company has been in my family for three generations. I would do anything to keep it from going under."
  • "You know, I am so romantic sometimes I think I should just marry myself."
  • "Your stunned silence is very reassuring."
  • "I've had a lot of birthday...well not a lot of birthdays...but this is the best birthday ever."
  • "It is my professional opinion that now is the time to panic!"
  • "Boo!"
  • "We're easy prey, my friend, easy prey."
  • "I always wanted a pet that could kill me."
  • "I'd like to think that, given the circumstances, I have been extremely forgiving up to now."
  • "Loch Ness, Big Foot, the Abominable Snowman. They all got one thing in common, pal. Banishment."
  • "Yeah. It's uh...Bring An Obscure Relative To Work Day."
  • "That is the weirdest thing you have ever said."
  • "The child may have escaped."
  • "You're not supposed to name it. Once you name it, you start getting attached to it."
  • "Now put that thing back where it came from or so help me."
  • "We're rehearsing a scene for the upcoming play called Put That Thing Back Where It Came From or So Help Me."
  • "Last night was one of the worst nights of my entire life, bar none."
  • "How many kids you got in there?"
  • "We're going to get our lives back. The nightmare is over."
  • "First of all, it's cree-tin. If you're going to threaten me, do it properly."
  • "Now that we have her, he is trying to kill us."
  • "This company can't afford any more bad publicity."
  • "We're banished, genius."
  • "Look at that big jerk. Ruined my life, and for what?"
  • "Ever since that kid came in you're ignored everything I've said."
  • "What about me? I'm your pal. I'm your best friend. Don't I matter?"
  • "You and I are a team. Nothing is more important than our friendship."
  • "If you start crying, I'm going to cry, and I'll never get through this."
  • "I'm sorry I wasn't there for ya...but I am now."
  • "What a plan! Simple yet insane!"
  • "Go ahead. Grow up."
  • "I don't believe it...I'm on the cover of a magazine."

nevertheaesthetic replied to your postits hilarious how like every single press outlet…

I love that show! What do you think people are missing about it!

HOOO boy where do I start—

I think the biggest thing a lot of reviewers missed or seemed to be, like, purposefully ignoring is that despite being weirdly high-quality television, hannibal wasn’t the type of high-quality television we’ve come to expect over the past decade or so. there was a lot of talk about how the writing is “so good” and that had me with my jaw on the floor because…were we watching the same show? like, it’s not mad men, it’s not breaking bad, it’s cinematic but not cinematically crafted in the way those shows are—its writing isn’t its strength, but the visuals are nothing without the writing; everything is kind of a mesh of overwrought visual and spoken metaphors. for lack of a better word, it’s campier than most high-quality TV i’ve seen lately. there’s a pervasive queer goofiness to it which I think a lot of people either mistook for pretension or ignored entirely. it seems to thumb its nose purposefully at masculine horror film auteurism and instead just kinda threw everything at the wall to see what stuck. the show isn’t perfect with regards to how it treats its marginalized characters but I also think a lot of reviewers missed the sheer amount of change that the source of the show (the books) must have undergone in order to have so much affection for the idea of queerness translate onscreen; the source material is pervasively homophobic—thomas harris was just really scared of gay people, or at least that’s how his writing comes off. i am really against the idea that male/male subtext is always more radical than a heterosexual relationship being front and center on tv but i think in this case it..kinda is. weird horror tropes aside, turning your fruity queer-coded villain into someone who has genuine, explicitly stated, romantic, fleshed-out feelings for his male co-protagonist that become the heart of the show is really interesting.. and that’s the other point—hannibal is, like, really tonally cohesive. absurdly so. that was something i only picked up on from rematching it start to finish because serialized tv episodes have a way of getting away from you but the entire tract of the show is about will’s transformation and gradual acceptance of his, uh. urges? murderous tendencies? love for hannibal? all of the above i guess. there’s nothing that happens in season three that isn’t essentially framed up in the first two or three episodes of season one and that’s satisfying.

so, yeah. calling hannibal a good show is a weird thing to do because it feels to me like a cult hit that knew how to be a cult hit and was written like a cult hit from day one in all of its campy, stupid, goofy glory. tl;dr.

Conversations with my parents about current decisions about myself:
  • Me: (knowing that my mom is really against tattoos) Mom I'll get a tattoo, on my ribs, not yet but soon.
  • Mom: mmm, really?
  • Me: yes, really.
  • Mom: is it gonna be big?
  • Me: No, and it's gonna be on the ribs and not easily visible, look (sent her the pic of the idea)
  • Mom: I'm still not very convinced but as long as it makes you happy I'm fine with it, I like it when you are happy.
  • ----------
  • Me: Dad, I'll dye half of my hair blue for this summer.
  • Dad: Ugh why?? I don't like unnatural hair colors.
  • Me: yeah but I do like them...
  • Dad: Well okay, while you have your blue hair I'll wear leggings every day.
  • Me: finee, you are the grown up man who wanna wear tight leggings... But I'll have my hair blue.
  • Dad: okay princess, do as you please, as long as you are happy I'm happy, and it's your hair so it's your decision.
  • ----------
  • Look, my parents aren't perfect, but they are trying so hard to let me be, and they always did this for me, they always let me decide for myself, even when I was little I had the right to decide wether I liked something or not, and they do this even over things they dislike a lot, and I'm so grateful for them because I couldn't ask for better more understanding parents, they are just so great. And seriously if any of you have kids you definitely should try and be like this, because there is nothing better than feeling the support from the birth-givers.

More Maleficent fanfiction! This time, starring our favorite crazy king, and a faerie willing to go to great lengths to get her raven back.

Insanity is really hard to write, guys. D: 

Title: Negotiations
Rating: K+
Summary: A witch’s familiar for a princess. Perfectly fair trade.

-

He had it. The creature. In a cage fit for a beast, latched and sealed with cold iron. It wasn’t natural. Nothing around her was. So cold iron it was, and if it wasn’t fae, then so be it. Better safe than sorry.

The beast cawed angrily, and Stefan smashed his fist into the top of it. “Silence!” he roared. 

It glared at him, and let out a derisive quork.

“Shut your beak,” he hissed angrily, “or I’ll cut it off.”

Its feathers ruffled, and it hopped towards him, broken wing dragging on the iron bottom of the cage before it clicked its beak at him. Staring. Always staring. Stefan gritted his teeth. “You don’t understand,” he informed the beast tightly. “She’ll come. Fair trade, wouldn’t you say? A bird for a daughter?”

Was it his imagination, or did the creature actually narrow its eyes at him? Its beak opened, then snapped shut, the resounding click ringing in his ears. “She thinks she’s clever,” Stefan muttered, twisting away from the beast, feeling its eyes bore holes through his skull, through his mind, into his soul. Speak, speak and make it stop. The words will drive the eyes away. “But I’ve bested her. You – you’re perfect. She won’t be able to resist. Her precious little familiar, all locked up in a cage. Can’t think of a better way to start negotiations.”

It made a disbelieving noise at that. Disbelieving! How dare it disbelieve him? He was king and it – it was nothing more than a stupid beast. An object to be used for magical means, no doubt. “I said –“ Stefan clenched the bars in his fists – “shut your beak!

Wham!

Stefan twisted so fast his neck screamed in protest. Ah, yes. There she was. All black and twisted, ugly fury, magic whirling in her wake. This was no jilted lover, no quiet need for revenge painted on her face. This was fury in its most raw of forms. “Release him,” she hissed, words slithering off her snake tongue and curling into his ears, silencing the wind and the hop-skip-scrape of the beast’s talons against iron.

“If you want your familiar, you’ll give me back my daughter. Maleficent.”

Obviously the niceties had no place. His lips curled of their own accord. Witch.

Maleficent’s eyes responded by narrowing into long-lashed slits of gold and green. Magic glowed within them, but he didn’t back down. “I don’t have your daughter.”

“You stole her from me!” Stefan shouted. “With a curse and a grudge, you stole my daughter, and I will have her back!”

The faerie’s eyes flitted to the cage, to the monster within it. And they widened. Just for a split second, but Stefan saw the weakness, and smiled. So, she worried for her familiar, did she? “Cold iron, I assume,” she said flatly, fingers tight and white-knuckled around her staff.

“Of course.”

Her eyes told the story of her future actions, as they always, always had. Except he couldn’t read them. Stefan leaned forward, a frown set on his face, trying to decipher the tale her eyes held. Fixated on the beast, on the cage, the lock.

“I see,” she finally murmured, cold as stone.

And her hands fell on the iron, snatching the cage off of the small side-table, heedless of the red glow of her skin. Face twisted in pain, but set in determination as she slid the lock-bolt free, reached in, and carefully pulled out the bird before she threw the cage aside to smack into the floor with a resounding clang that reverberated in his head for far too long. Her pale fingers – now blistered.

It was as if he did not exist, and all that mattered was the blasted beast perched on her burned wrist, its claws carefully edging up her arm to avoid red skin. Her fingers stroked it once, avoiding the broken wing carefully, before her eyes snapped up to meet his.

He recoiled at the burning green.

And then she was gone, and all he could see was her fire eyes, the clanging of the cage hitting the floor and echoing, echoing, echoing.

21 Inspiring Quotes from Andrei Tarkovsky on Art & Filmmaking

Tarkovsky is for me the greatest, the one who invented a new language, true to the nature of film, as it captures life as a reflection, life as a dream.

These words from Ingmar Bergman on the revered filmmaker Andrei Tarkovsky have without a doubt been echoed by many others and for all the right reasons. Tarkovsky was a poet of cinema whose technique and philosophy on both art and life are still rippling through the world long after his death, and his own words on filmmaking allow us to see his memorable imprint on cinematic storytelling. For their creative inspiration and profound insight, A-BitterSweet-Life presents 21 inspiring quotes on art and filmmaking from the great Andrei Tarkovsky.

Art affirms all that is best in man—hope, faith, love, beauty, prayer…What he dreams of and what he hopes for…What is art?…Like a declaration of love: the consciousness of our dependence on each other. A confession. An unconscious act that none the less reflects the true meaning of life—love and sacrifice.

All art, of course, is intellectual, but for me, all the arts, and cinema even more so, must above all be emotional and act upon the heart.

Why do people go to the cinema? What takes them into a darkened room where, for two hours, they watch the play of shadows on a sheet? The search for entertainment? The need for a kind of drug? All over the world there are, indeed, entertainment firms and organizations which exploit cinema and television and spectacles of many other kinds. Our starting point, however, should not be there, but in the essential principles of cinema, which have to do with the human need to master and know the world. I think that what a person normally goes to the cinema for is time: for time lost or spent or not yet had. He goes there for living experience; for cinema, like no other art, widens, enhances and concentrates a person’s experience—and not only enhances it but makes it longer, significantly longer. That is the power of cinema: ‘stars’, story-lines and entertainment have nothing to do with it.

In cinema it is necessary not to explain, but to act upon the viewer’s feelings, and the emotion which is awoken is what provokes thought.

The only manner in which a creative idea should enter the awareness of the audience is via the trust the creator has in his audience. A dialogue in which audience and creator are equal partners has to be developed. There is no other approach; even if something is absolutely self-evident to the creator it is entirely wrong to try and force this into the audience’s mind. The aesthetic ideas generated by the viewers have to be accommodated, but one must never compromise and neglect the duty to create modern cinema. In no case should one concede to the tastes of the more backward viewers…One doesn’t need to explain in film, but rather to directly affect the feelings of the audience.

Never try to convey your idea to the audience—it is a thankless and senseless task. Show them life, and they’ll find within themselves the means to assess and appreciate it.

More consistently than ever I was trying to make people believe that cinema as an instrument of art has its own possibilities which are equal to those of prose. I wanted to demonstrate how cinema is able to observe life, without interfering, crudely or obviously, with its continuity. For that is where I see the poetic essence of cinema.

When I speak of poetry I am not thinking of it as a genre. Poetry is an awareness of the world, a particular way of relating to reality.

Through poetic connections feeling is heightened and the spectator is made more active. He becomes a participant in the process of discovering life, unsupported by ready-made deductions from the plot or ineluctable pointers by the author. He has at his disposal only what helps to penetrate to the deeper meaning of the complex phenomena represented in front of him. Complexities of thought and poetic visions of the world do not have to be thrust into the framework of the patently obvious. The usual logic, that of linear sequentiality, is uncomfortably like the proof of a geometry theorem. As a method it is incomparably less fruitful artistically than the possibilities opened up by associative linking, which allows for an affective as well as a rational appraisal. And how wrong it is that the cinema makes so little use of the latter mode, which has so much to offer. It possesses an inner power which is concentrated within the image and comes across to the audience in the form of feelings, inducing tension in direct response to the author’s narrative logic.

A director is like any other artist: a painter, a poet, a musician. And since it is required from him to contribute his own self, it is strange to see directors that take their work as a special position, given to them by destiny, and simply exploit their profession. That is, they live in one way, but make movies about something else. And I’d like to tell directors, especially young ones, that they should be morally responsible for what they do while making their films. Do you understand? It is the most important of all. Secondly, they should be prepared for the thought that cinema is a very difficult and serious art. It requires sacrificing of yourself. You should belong to it, it shouldn’t belong to you. Cinema uses your life, not vice versa. Therefore, I think that this is the most important: You should sacrifice yourself to the art.

I see it as my duty to stimulate reflection on what is essentially human and eternal in each individual soul, and which all too often a person will pass by, even though his fate lies in his hands. He is too busy chasing after phantoms and bowing down to idols. In the end everything can be reduced to the one simple element which is all a person can count upon in his existence: the capacity to love. That element can grow within the soul to become the supreme factor which determines the meaning of a person’s life. My function is to make whoever sees my films aware of his need to love and to give his love, and aware that beauty is summoning him.

Masterpieces are born of the artist’s struggle to express his ethical ideals. Indeed, his concepts and his sensibilities are informed  by those ideals. If he loves life, has an overwhelming need to know it, change it, try to make it better—in short, if he aims to cooperate in enhancing the value of life, then there is no danger in the fact that the picture of reality will have passed through a filter of his subjective concepts, through his states of mind. For his work will always be a spiritual endeavor which aspires to make man more perfect: an image of the world that captivates us by its harmony of feeling and thought, its nobility and restraint.

My objective is to create my own world and these images which we create mean nothing more than the images which they are. We have forgotten how to relate emotionally to art: we treat it like editors, searching in it for that which the artist has supposedly hidden. It is actually much simpler than that, otherwise art would have no meaning. You have to be a child—incidentally children understand my pictures very well, and I haven’t met a serious critic who could stand knee-high to those children. We think that art demands special knowledge; we demand some higher meaning from an author, but the work must act directly on our hearts or it has no meaning at all.

In the cinema a director expresses his individuality first and foremost through his sense of time, through rhythm. Rhythm gives colour to a work by distinguishable stylistic characteristics. Rhythm must arise naturally in a film, a function of the director’s innate sense of life and commensurate with his quest for time.

Many manage to separate their life from their films. They live one way and express other ideas in their works. They are able to split their conscience. I can’t. To me cinema is not just my job: it’s my life, and each film is an act of my life.

All creative work strives for simplicity, for perfectly simple expression; and this means reaching down into the furthest depths of the recreation of life. But that is the most painful part of creative work: finding the shortest path between what you want to say or express and its ultimate reproduction in the finished image. The struggle for simplicity is the painful search for a form adequate to the truth you have grasped. You long to be able to achieve great things while economizing the means…The striving for perfection leads an artist to make spiritual discoveries, to exert the utmost moral effort. Aspiration towards the absolute is the moving force in the development of mankind. For me the idea of realism in art is linked with that force. Art is realistic when it strives to express an ethical ideal. Realism is a striving for the truth, and truth is always beautiful. Here the aesthetic coincides with the ethical.

An artistic discovery occurs each time as a new and unique image of the world, a hieroglyphic of absolute truth. It appears as a revelation, as a momentary, passionate wish to grasp intuitively and at a stroke all the laws of this world—its beauty and ugliness, its compassion and cruelty, its infinity and its limitations.

The artistic image is always a metonym, where one thing is substituted for another, the smaller for the greater. To tell of what is living, the artist uses something dead; to speak of the infinite, he shows the finite.

I’ve noticed, from my experience, if the external, emotional construction of images in a film are based on the filmmaker’s own memory, on the kinship of one’s personal experience with the fabric of the film, then the film will have the power to affect those who see it.

It is a mistake to talk about the artist “looking for” his subject. In fact, the subject grows within him like a fruit and begins to demand expression. It is like childbirth. The poet has nothing to be proud of: he is not master of the situation, but a servant. Creative work is his only possible form of existence, and his every work is like a deed he has no power to annul. For him to be aware that the sequence of such deeds is due and ripe, that it lies in the very nature of things, he has to have faith in the idea; for only faith interlocks the system of images (for which read: system of life.)

In all my films, it seemed important to me to remind the audience to the fact that they are not alone, lost in an empty universe, but that they are connected by innumerable threads with their past and present, that through certain mystical ways, every human being realizes the rapport with the world and the life of humanity.