why does the lipstick look so dark

your lipstick stain is a work of art

gajevy week day 3 – lipstick. Finally a longer one; I’m much happier with this than the past couple of days. (Title taken from the song “She Looks So Perfect” by 5 Seconds of Summer. The song doesn’t have anything to do with the prompt, the lyric just happened to fit)

Inspired by “The Makeout Project” by Jedediah Johnson

Bonus | Day One | Day Two | Day Four | Day Five | Day Six | Day Seven


The moment she spots him crossing the street towards her building, Levy knows she’ll have to kill her best friend. A regrettable thing, really, but necessary.

Because why else would Gajeel Redfox be coming to her studioduring a work session unless Lucy had sent him there? Levy is sure as shit thather best friend hadn’t explained to him the caveat in her project, and lordis this going to be awkward.

Levy whips out her phone in the few moments she has before he’soutside the studio door and quickly sends a text. I’m going to kill you, just so you know.

Her phone chirps almost immediately. We’ll see. Now go get ‘er done ;)

She stifles an irritated squawk. What does Lucy think she’s doing? This isn’t going to work the way her friend thinks it will, there is no way on earth, but oh god what is she going to do? Quick, think, think, think–

She twitches violently as the door’s buzzer sounds, her phone jumping from her hand to the couch beside her. Her hands flutter uselessly and for a second she debates not letting him in. Will he go away if she never answers?

A loud buzzing fills the studio a second time and it seems that no, he will not. Without thinking Levy dashes to the front of the studio, quickly darting to the side to check her lipstick in the small mirror by the door. Her cheeks flush slightly as she remembers why it’s there, but before she can reconsider, she forces herself to take hold of the door handle and slide it open. “Hey,” she says, hoping she doesn’t sound nearly as panicked as she is.

“Hey.”

She steps aside to let him in. His boots thud loudly against the hardwood floors, prompting her to say, “Oh, would you mind taking those off? I’m only renting this studio and I don’t want to get scratches on the floor.” Or you could just tell him now and watch him scramble out the door. Would be easier.

She banishes the pessimistic thought away in favor of one a little more hopeful. “I’m assuming Lucy didn’t tell you much about my project?” Please say she did, please say she did–

“Nope.”

Damn.

“Ah. Well.”

“What? You gonna stab me in the name of art or somethin’?”

She laughs. “No, nothing like that. But, um…”

“C’mon, just spit it out. Thought you just needed to take my picture.”

“That’s not quite… here, it’s probably easier if I just show you.” Then she won’t have to tell him and maybe this won’t get quite as awkward. Unlikely, but a girl can hope.

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Lauren Jauregui is a loser: a masterpost

hello i’m making this post so we can finally destroy the idea that lauren jauregui is badass and intimidating and exposing her as the huge dorky loser she really is :’)

ps. please be careful, this post might make u cry

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Hi,

So this is me. The scary looking girl with the dark lipstick. 19 years old and about to take on the world.

I know I’m not abroad yet, and therefore posting on this blog right now seems premature and irrelevant, I know. However, it does seem relevant and on brand to open up about myself and what got me here seeing as my form of blogging throughout this year will be journal like and more self reflective (I think). 

Now to the broad question of: What got me here? Why is a nineteen year old who has done an unfinished year of college doing leaving the country for 7 months? As is probably implied by now, the answer isn’t quite that simple. 

After going through the rigorous two year challenge of receiving the International Baccalaureate Diploma alongside my high school one, I set off to attend Wake Forest University across the country from my home in Oregon. I thrived my first semester, both socially and academically. Because of this I thought I could handle overfilling my course load and going out for even more clubs and sports come spring semester… Obviously this combination proved fatal. As an immature 18 year old girl who had just been diagnosed with ADHD a mere year and a half prior and who had a history of anxiety + depression, I broke down completely. My grades tumbled downward and everything hit rock bottom when anxiety and workload kept me up for 62 hours straight. I became a hallucinating mess who, to no ones surprise except my own (for some reason I thought I could still pull through), ended up failing the organic chemistry exam I had the following day. Feeling absolutely defeated and completely worthless, I crawled into bed and stayed there for two weeks. Only getting up to walk to the end of the hall and grab food out of the vending machine, praying the entire time that no one would see me and try to talk to me. I even avoided my roommate, hiding under my blankets when she was in the room. I felt like a disgrace to everyone. Like I had let everyone down and I didn’t deserve to be with those who I called my peers at such a high caliber school. But I knew I couldn’t hide from my problems forever and one day I finally forced myself out of the comfort of my bed and into the agony of the public to meet with my student adviser who recommended I leave WFU temporarily on a mental health break approved by the school. And so I did so with full intention on coming back in the fall (this fall, the fall of 2017). However, my family and I soon realized that academic pressure does not help a person like me thrive and therefore it would not be logical nor economical for me to continue to attend Wake Forest. 

After an awful couple of months at home struggling with the reality that had become my life I decided to take a gap year. To go abroad and not only experience something completely new and important, but also take the time to better myself and learn more about what I can and can’t do. Use the experience to self reflect and improve my mental strength. Thinking Beyond Borders’ Global Gap Year really provided exactly what I was looking for and that’s why I’m so excited to go to Guatemala, India, and Ghana starting September. 

Out of context things my 7th grade students have said to me

“But, like, how many people exactly did Persephone beat up?”

“Miss, you got a six pack.”

“I don’t want to be a lawyer anymore. Law school looks boring. Is there a murder school instead?”

“Miss, would we get arrested for throwing old breakfast at Donald Trump?”

“Who does Thor’s hair?”

“Don’t wear that lipstick, Miss. It’s too dark and you look like a ho.”

“So does that mean Zeus was a player?”

“My sister’s having like 200 people over for her quinceañera on Saturday and that is too many people. That’s too much pressure on me to talk to people and I’m out, to be honest.”

Me: “What are you really good at?”
Student: “I don’t know.”
Me: “Of course you do! Think about it for a minute.”
Student: (After some quiet introspection) “I can shoot staples out of a stapler really far.”

“Why is your mouth so big, Miss?”

“I saw a ghost yesterday. Or a cat. Probably both.”

Student: “I have to have Dr. Pepper. You don’t understand. My body has literally evolved to the point where it won’t process water and it has to have Dr. Pepper and Hot Cheetos otherwise my DNA starts to break down.”
Me: “Okay, that is not how biology works.”
Student: “Look at me and tell me I’m wrong.”

(To the tune of “My Sharona”) “Laaa Llorona!”

“Miss, Imma just warn you that I’m feeling really salty today so I can’t control what comes out of my mouth.”

“Miss! You used to be the cool teacher that let me lick your face.” (For the record, that never happened. Like, ever.)

Student: “Someone’s weave fell out under that desk.”
Me: “Oh, you’re right. Can you please pick it up?”
Student: “No. It’s alive.”

Me: “What does ‘on fleek’ mean?”
Student: “It’s from a video. This girl was like, ‘Eyebrows on FLEEK!’ It means, like, looking really good.”
Me: “No, I know that, but where did the word itself come from? Is it an acronym? A shortened form of something else? From another language?”
Student: (suddenly disconcerted, slowly looks at me and says, quietly, as if deeply disturbed) “I…oh, man, I don’t know.”

tashasbartons  asked:

Castle watches Kate transform into Detective Beckett; or, he watches as she struggles with a woman's morning routine: jumping around and doing air kicks to put on skinny jeans and making the duck face/blowfish face to put on blush.

Castle had come to learn that the woman he had married could be two very different people. At night, when they were at home, she was Mrs. Castle. All little touches and quick glances filled with her radiant smile. She would curl into his side and let her defenses down, walking around the loft with her makeup free face and NYPD sweats, her hair twisted into a messy bun. He loved seeing her like that, 100% comfortable around him.

But at the same time, he loved it when she transformed into Detective Beckett, the badass woman who could send ice running through your veins with one glare. The woman he had known for years until she finally cracked open and let him in to her warmth and playfulness.

He watches her now, padding around their bedroom clad only in a bath towel, her hair still dripping wet from her shower, readying herself to become Detective Beckett for the day. The ends of her hair curl around her shoulders as she works to pull down an outfit from her half of the closet. He wishes she would wear it naturally more often like she had that year after she was shot. Mrs. Castle wears it that way all of the time, the kinky little waves framing her face on the weekends when she isn’t on call. But Detective Beckett always takes a heating tool to her waves, whether it be a curling iron, a straightener, or simply a blow dryer.

She lets the towel drop away from her, forming a puddle around her ankles. He stares at the bare curve of her ass as she slips into a pair of satin underwear. His eyes trace up the bare expanse of her back and he has the urge to join her at their dresser, kiss his way up her spine. But he’s been reprimanded too many times by Detective Beckett for his morning quickies that make her late to work. So instead he watches as the black cups of her bra appear on her back as she twists it around to secure the clasp. She twists the cups back to where they belong and slips her arms through the straps, heading back into the bathroom.

He hears the sounds of her blow dryer starting up and Castle finally pushes himself out of bed, moving to retrieve her abandoned bath towel from the floor. He walks into the bathroom behind her, hanging it back up on the towel rack to dry.

“I would have gotten that,” she yells over the sound of her blow dryer, scrunching up her face in pain when her hair brush snags on a knot.

“I was up,” he shrugs, bumping his hip into hers to make her move out of the way of the drawer.

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anonymous asked:

Why do guys hate dark lipsticks so much? Does your boyfriend oppose to lipstick or does he compliment it?

He doesn’t care what I do to my face makeup wise, I can probably draw a pony on my forehead and he wouldn’t care he knows it’s just makeup and comes off.

Guys don’t like dark lipsticks bc girls look badass and they are intimidated. Dark lips are bold, and eye catching. They don’t understand.