#found my pink highlighter and had an epiphany

[fried-manto]

"How can I hate a stranger? Ridiculous indeed!"

#found my pink highlighter and had an epiphany #decided i wanna ruin someones day (my own 🤡) #so obsessed w him i drew a comic abt him talking to himself 🙏🙏 #they would absolutely DESPISE each other #but also hang out all the time just to #find his/his weakness #kokichi ouma #kokichi oma #pregame kokichi #pregame #ndrv3 kin #ndrv3 killing harmony #new danganronpa v3 #comic #my art #danganronpa kokichi #danganronpa v3

[carry-on-snowbazzing]

My 5 best of 2020 (in 2021 😂)

1. A summer day ☀

"Well, Baz! Do you want to move?" Penelope yelled, already in the car (a certain MG dated 1967).

Simon studied his own reflection in the rearview mirror, running a hand through his bronze curly tuft and resulting in even more messiness.

"A minute!" was the answer from a few floors above the apartment.

Penelope rolled her eyes and picked up her Iphone.

Shortly after, hurried footsteps were heard coming down the stairs and Baz, after closing the door, got into the car.

Simon leaned out of the back seat and kissed him on the cheek.

He smiled and, starting the engine, exclaimed:

"Destination: fun!"

  Later there were four of them getting out of the car: Baz with a beach umbrella over his shoulder, Simon struggling with a giant inflatable pink flamingo, Penelope with a cooler bag, and Agatha with another bag, containing beach towels and sunscreen.

"The weather forecasts were right; today’s a perfect day for the sea," Penelope commented as she slipped off her flip-flops and dropped her bag into the sand.

"Edward shines like a fairy!" Simon yelled, putting on a pair of sunglasses and pointing to Baz.

"Stop it, Snow," he laughed, "and give me my glasses back; all this sunshine stuns me."

Trying to ignore them, Agatha took off her cover-up and began to rub off the protection angrily.

"Whoever dives himself last is a pixie!" Simon yelled, throwing his t-shirt and starting to run towards the sea with Penelope at his heels.

Several splashes and laughter later, the two returned wet, smiling and hungry.

Meanwhile, Baz and Agatha had dedicated themselves to crossword puzzles and to the horoscope.

"Agatha, there must be some butter and turkey sandwiches in the cooler," Penelope said as she wrapped herself in her towel.

"I couldn't find anything better for you than beef carpaccio," she said to Baz.

He smiled making 'OK' with both thumbs.

"And for me?" Agatha asked, offended that her friend hadn't thought of her too.

"Fruit salad" she replied. "I know you're on a vegetarian diet."

Agatha blushed feeling a little guilty and muttered something like "Oh, thank you".

Everyone literally devoured their lunch, because, as Simon ruled on his fifth butter sandwich, "The sea makes you hungry."

They gossiped a bit about their old classmates, wondering if Gareth still had his belt buckle as a wand and if Trixie had a fight with his girlfriend.

  They lost track of time after falling asleep in the early afternoon sun.

It was the sound of a notification that woke Agatha, who, after seeing her mother's message ('Where are you? Coven party tonight!'), made a shrill sound that woke the others too.

"Damn, I'm in mega-delay!" she complained, sitting up and hastily gathering his things.

Seeing her so agitated, no one dared contradict her and they hurried too.

Before leaving for the return, all already in the car, Simon took out a Polaroid from the trunk (not an easy feat, given the bulky mass of the flamingo) and urged them:

"Wait! Say 'cheese'!"

Everyone posed, waiting for the flash.

Once the picture was taken, Simon reached for the film that had just come out of the instant camera, but found himself clutching a slice of Emmental in his fingers.

Baz couldn't help himself and laughed uncontrollably.

"Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch!" Simon bursted, but he couldn't bear a grudge and joined in the general laughter.

___________________________________________________

2. Shopping (Big & Little) 🥄

"They'll be emptying the mall, those two" Agatha commented, looking at the clock on the kitchen wall and adding another egg to the bowl.

"Probably" replied Penelope, who was handling the curry risotto.

"They've been away for three hours!" Agatha insisted, "and with two credit cards!".

Penelope gave her a look like 'what can we do?' and again consulted the handwritten note attached to the refrigerator with a magnet (shaped like a scone).

"Oh, I forgot the onion!" she moaned after a quick glance, "my mother would kill me if she knew!".

She went back to the stove and for a few minutes they remained silent, one intent on vigorously banging the whips, the other busy slicing the bulb.

Once Agatha had baked the chocolate cake (wiping a non-existent sweat with her glove) and Penelope had remedied her mistake, the girls dropped onto the sofa.

They were just debating which movie to watch that night when they heard the key turn in the lock and Simon exclaim from the entrance:

"We’re at home!"

The two joined them in the living room and Baz asked:

"Curry and chocolate?"

Penelope nodded.

"Sometimes I wish I was a vampire; just smell a dish to understand if the doses are right or wrong," she sighed.

"Shopping?" Agatha asked, looking at the numerous envelopes they both had in their hands and casting a reproachful look at Simon.

"There were the sales" he tried to justify himself, shrugging his shoulders.

"Hurry up; you’ll show us your spoils of war after dinner" Penelope ordered.

  "What do you think?" Simon began, smugly showing a set of jeans for Baz and a giant jar of sour cherries scones.

Penelope seemed to try not to roll her eyes.

"I stayed on the intellectual side" Baz said, pulling a stack of books and a pack of pastel highlighters out of a bag.

"I need them for the college" he explained to Agatha, who was trying to get hold of the markers.

"And you haven't seen the piece of resistence!" Simon shrieked, grabbing a smiling Baz by the wrist and dragging him into the nearest room.

They came out moments later walking backwards (in what was supposed to be an imitation of Michael Jackson's moonwalk), so they could only see their backs.

"3, 2, 1 ..." Baz counted.

"Ta daaaan!" Simon exclaimed as they turned at the same time.

They wore matching gray sweatshirts; both had a black molded spoon.

'Big' was written on Baz's, while Simon's 'Little'.

"Awww" the girls screamed in unison, in the grip of a fangirl attack (which managed to make Agatha look adoring too).

"We have a pair for you too" Baz said, handing Penelope a black t-shirt with 'Brownie' on it, while Simon gave Agatha a white one with 'Blondie' on it.

"Thanks, guys" Penelope murmured moved and Agatha initiated a group hug.

photos references

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3. Anniversary 💞

here

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4. Ops! 🧴

 Simon knocked for the tenth time on the bathroom door:

"Occupied!" Baz yelled for the tenth time.

"And sorry, but I can't hold it anymore anymore ..."

Simon abruptly released the handle, abandoning his irritated tone.

He let out a cry, muffled by the hands that he immediately brought to his mouth.

Baz was shirtless in front of the mirror, glaring at his own reflection.

Everything was perfectly normal, except for his hair: it had turned from raven to red.

Fawn red.

"If you tell anyone about this, Snow, I will end you" he growled menacingly.

Simon stood there, speechless. When he had regained the use of his mouth, he barely stifled a laugh and intoned:

“Weasley is our king

he always lets the Quaffle in ... "

From Baz's look, he knew it would be wiser to stop, so he did it.

He approached cautiously and asked gently:

"What happened to you?".

"I wish I knew; I was taking a normal shampoo shower" sighed Baz.

Meanwhile Simon had reached the sink and was looking closely at the bottle of the citron and bergamot scented blend.

"It doesn't seem to have anything strange" he then ruled, placing it back on the shelf.

"Indeed; I went to get it from my home in Hampshire; Daphne can only find it in our town's herbalist's shop," Baz replied sadly.

"I really can't explain it" he went on, unable to get over it.

"My sister gave it to me ..." he stopped suddenly.

He clapped her forehead and turned on the lock screen of his smartphone.

"Today is April 1st," he murmured.

He took the vial in one hand and, with the ivory wand in the other, exclaimed:

"Show me your secrets!".

The writing on the label changed from 'Shampoo with citrus notes' to 'Permanent color intense red'.

"MORDELIAAAAA!" he screamed as Simon rolled with laughter.

"April Fool!" he managed to exclaim between a laugh and another.

That’s totally inspired by a fanart of @vkelleyart​ 💖 :  that 

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5. Trick or treat? 👻

 "Well, Baz! If you don't move, we'll only have the sub-brand candy left!" Simon railed.

With all the peace of mind he could, Baz went down the stairs and joined his screaming boyfriend, who was immediately silent at his sight.

"Morgana, Basilton; you really mean it" Penelope commented, watching him as she lit another candle to put in the Jack o 'lanterns carved by Simon and Baz (which occupied all the flat surfaces of the apartment).

"I've been doing some accurate researches over the last week" he began, making a theatrical gesture in his vampire cloak.

"You even have the same jacket as Gary Oldman" she observed excitedly.

He, in response, gave her a perfidious look, baring his fangs.

Simon was still in his silence and couldn't take his eyes off him.

"What's up Snow, the cat got your tongue?" Baz asked, amused.

He answered with a tongue sticking out and approached him with a raised eyebrow (in perfect Baz style).

"Wow" he commented after kissing him on the cheek.

"Enjoy yourselves!" Penelope exclaimed as they came out hand in hand.

  "Where do we go now?" Baz asked.

Simon moved with great ease between one bell and another, meticulously illustrating the specialties offered by each house.

His phrases were: "Here you can always find top quality stuff", or "No, better to avoid an indigestion".

After scouring all the houses on the first five blocks, Simon had an epiphany.

"For a thousand snakes! Baz, we absolutely have to go to the 'Spooky night' party!" he screamed, making him jump.

"Crowley, Snow! Calm down!" he retorted irritably, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt.

"You don't understand," Simon insisted.

"Our loot is loser when compared to everything you can find there; Strawberry Blood Drip, Every Flavour Beans, Pumpkin PIE, Butterbeer and, hold on ... Oreo with Orange Cream!"

Baz, seeing him so excited ('like a child', he thought), couldn’t say no to him (although he wanted to go home more than anything else; his feet protested against Count Dracula's boots).

"And where would it be?" he asked, trying not to smile.

"A couple of blocks from here; hurry up!" Simon urged him, taking him by the hand and starting to run.

  "A delusion!" Simon snapped, leaving the bag full of sweets on the doormat.

"What happened?" Penelope asked Baz, who had just closed the door behind him and limped desperately as he headed for the sofa.

"In short at that damn party they had finished everything and told us our costumes sucked" he explained.

Simon was with his arms folded, all sulking, sitting in the armchair.

"Look at their costumes! And let me have something to eat, rather!" he barked.

Penelope approached him and, looking at him tenderly, reassured him:

"We always have our repertoire of horror films."

Simon shrugged, hitting the nearby lamp.

"And I was prepared for any eventuality," she went on, snapping her fingers and popping up a pack of Oreos with orange cream.

Simon's face cleared, illuminated by a huge grin.

__________________________________________________

Ty @letraspal​ for tagging me 💕

That’s all; hope u like it!  💜

Happy new Year! ✨

#snowbaz #sorry cuz i'm late #my 5 best of 2020 #hope u enjoy

[milky-mochi]

before you (2) | cyj

genre: nerd! yeonjun, nerd! reader, aged up! yeonjun, college! au, boyfriend! yeonjun

pairing: choi yeonjun x reader

summary: falling in love with choi yeonjun was like breezing through the chapters of a book, with highlights of him bookmarked in your head.

listen to: 🎶 me after you - paul kim 🎶

chapters: intro | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

the first time you realised you liked yeonjun, you couldn’t believe you had been blind to it for so long.

four months had passed since that first day of library club. since then, you and yeonjun formed a friendship you had come to depend on. it started out by sitting next to each other during lectures. then, it evolved into study calls, which turned into talking on the phone for hours. at the height of it all, your weekly study sessions.

thursdays were reserved for your time with yeonjun, when you both would sit at the cute little cafe across the road and pour over your books. misery felt a little less bad when done with another person.

initially, you were just there for the friendship. the study sessions became a source of comfort. the both of you were working hard to keep your reputation afloat, and yeonjun was the only one who understood your struggles. he felt your pain and your joy. there was sincere companionship in this boy that you had never found in anyone before.

eventually, these meetings meant more and more to you. they became the highlight of your day, before climbing its way into becoming the highlight of your week. before you knew it, you depended on it so much that just thinking about it brought you excitement.

but you didn’t even realise it then. you did, however, in one study session.

one thursday, your professor asked to see you after class. at first, you didn’t want to go for it. you were waiting anxiously to go see yeonjun instead. the temptation to give your professor an excuse and run off was overwhelming, but he did mention giving you some good news, and the overachiever in you had to give in.

picking up your phone, you speedily dialed yeonjun’s number. he picked up after only three rings of the dial tone, startling you. in the background, you heard the sound of cars driving by, indicating that yeonjun was already off campus.

“hey y/n! i’ll be there in a few, i’m walking over now!”

“hey yeonjun, i’m so sorry, i’m gonna be late. my professor has something to tell me so he asked me to meet him after class. i’ll probably be like, 15 minutes.”

you braced yourself for his reaction, expecting his voice to fall in disappointment or disapprovement and your heart to twist in pain. instead, his chirpy voice rang in your ears. “oh it’s okay don’t worry about it! i hope it’s good news?”

you sighed in relief, releasing a breath you didn’t even realise you were holding. “he slipped that it was regarding a new opportunity, so it should be good?”

“hell yeah! go get that thing! whatever it is! i’ll wait for you at the cafe, yeah?” yeonjun said.

you laughed before humming in agreement. seeing your professor bidding you to come over, you ended the call and made your way over to his desk.

“hi professor, you wanted to see me?”

“right, y/n,” your professor started, gathering a stack of papers, “you know about the praestantia award right?”

everyone knew what the praestantia award was. it was the most prestigious scholarship a person your age could get. the scholarship was a guaranteed ticket to all the embellishments on your portfolio. all the opportunities you were dying for would easily be within your reach.

“yes of course, sir.”

“well it’s nomination period, and the english faculty has decided to nominate you under the language category,” he said, handing you an envelope. “i’ve emailed you the portal for the application, and these are the resources you’ll need to complete your application. thank you for all your hard work, y/n.”

receiving the envelope with a nod, you smiled graciously at your professor. your heart was beating out of your body with excitement. all your hard work had finally paid off into something you could be proud of. as soon as you saw your professor leave, you scooped your bag out and dashed out of the lecture theatre, heading straight for the cafe.

after running at top speed, you reached the cafe. grabbing the handles of the glass front doors, you swung them open. inside, yeonjun sat comfortably, staring down at his books. a single earbud was in his ear as he picked his pen up to write something down. his coffee sat patiently beside his pencil case.

“hey yeonjun i’m so sorry i’m late,” you sighed, sliding into your seat. after placing your bag down, you took another look at the table. raising your eyebrows, you asked, “what’s all this?”

yeonjun flashed you a sheepish smile. “well, you said you were gonna get good news, so i wanted your coffee to be here by the time you were. i got you a cake too!” he said, gesturing to the second drink and plate in front of him. “i got your favourite, hot white chocolate mocha, and the red velvet cake. i even got them to add marshmallows into the coffee, since we come here so often.”

you felt like melting, like said marshmallows were melting into your mocha.

he remembered your order. not only did he remember it perfectly, he remembered the coffee you drank for celebration, which was different from the coffee you drank when you were sad (a cold brew with coconut milk and extra sugar, yeonjun remembered that too).

“yeonjun, oh my goodness, thank you so much,” you gushed, “how much was the coffee and the cake? i’ll pay you back-”

“don’t worry about it,” yeonjun waved, melting you with yet another smile, “my treat. you deserve this, y/n.”

shit.

it was at that moment awareness knocked on the door of your mind. everything fell in place: all the stolen glances, all your smiles at the thought of him. this was the moment you realised your oblivion melted away to reveal what you had been blind to: you liked choi yeonjun.

it was, however, a very weird moment for you to realise. it was nothing like all the love scenes you had read in your books. usually the female lead came to this epiphany when the male lead hugged her in the spur of the moment, or when she got jealous of another girl, or even when he brushed his hand against hers to reach for something.

but no. you realised you liked yeonjun because he bought you coffee and a cake.

but it really did mean a lot to you. it meant so much that yeonjun cared for you enough to want to celebrate your good news, without even knowing what it was for. he made you feel seen. so, maybe, it wasn’t that weird at all.

“thank you, yeonjun,” you thanked him once again.

he smiled and told you to try the cake. you complied, picking up the fork and scraping a piece off its side. when you tasted it, your face lit up. yeonjun laughed at your smile and offered you a napkin to wipe the cream cheese frosting from the corner of your mouth.

over cake and coffee, you talked instead of studying, for the first time this semester. usually, your conversations would unfold on the way to the bus stop afterwards, and on the bus home. but that day was not a usual day, given the two new pieces of information that had shaken your world. that day, the both of you had synced mentally, subconsciously aware of the fact that both of you wanted companionship, and not to study.

you talked for a long time, about anything and everything. about all the weird times you’d experienced together: the time you caught two people making out during library club, the time your professor brought his dog to class, the time an old lady asked you guys for a recommendation on the cakes and then bought you said cake. you talked until every drop of coffee had been sipped and the white plate by your side held nothing but maroon crumbs.

once yeonjun realised that you were both finished, he asked, “by the way, what did your professor want to tell you just now?”

“oh,” you said, mouth full of your last bite of cake. you swallowed it before continuing with a proud smile staining your face. “he told me the english faculty is nominating me for the praestantia award. under the language category!”

yeonjun let out a laugh, a mixture of surprise, happiness and pride. he put his hand up, offering you a high five. “y/n that’s incredible! you deserve it so much!”

smiling brightly, you high fived yeonjun. in his excitement, yeonjun held your hand and shook it as he commended you on your achievement. he gushed about all the opportunities it would bring you, about how high you could fly with that award. he didn’t even realise your hand in his.

a blush crept up on your cheeks as you felt yeonjun’s fingers on your. how else could you respond when the guy you liked held your hand, and didn’t even realise it?

it took yeonjun a while, but when he did realise, he pulled his hand away, the same way you did the first time you placed your hand on his shoulder during library club. under his breath, he muttered a sorry as he darted his gaze away from you. you swore you could have seen a light pink dust his cheeks too.

yeonjun cleared his throat to try clearing the awkwardness lingering in the air. “well you did amazing y/n. i’m so proud of you! we should go celebrate.”

your ears perked up at his words. he wanted to celebrate your achievement? with just the two of you? your heart picked up speed as you nodded meekly, unwilling to reveal what you were actually thinking.

“where do you wanna go?” yeonjun asked, almost nervously, as he placed his hands on the table.

“the new bookshop across town,” you answered, almost too quickly. “i heard they have cats in it, and they publish their own poetry. they publish their books with the binding i like.”

“the ones with a wide margin before the text starts?” yeonjun asked. he didn’t know why he did, if he was being honest. of course he remembered your favourite type of book binding. you liked it that way because then you could read without creasing the spine of the book.

delighted that yeonjun remembered such a little thing, you nodded with spritely energy. “and they use e.b. garamond!”

looking at you geeking over the books, yeonjun laughed and promised to bring you there over the weekend. it excited you to no end. but you had to chastise yourself for being unabashedly thrilled to go to the bookstore with him. your heart swelled with unknown and unfamiliar feelings, categorizable only by whatever you had read in books. and yet, you told yourself that your life wasn’t a romance novel. this crush would go like all the ones you had before. it would result in a one-sided pining for someone who would never like you back. you told yourself not to get too ahead of yourself and to cut all this crush stuff out. yeonjun could never like you back.

but little did you know, yeonjun’s heart resounded with the same feelings for you.

---

next chapter

#choi yeonjun #yeonjun #yeonjun fluff #txt choi yeonjun #txtwritersnetwork #txt fluff #choi yeonjun fluff #txt imagines #txt fic #txt fanfic #zyeonjun fanfic #choi yeonjun imagines #txt smut #txt angst #choi soobin #choi beomgyu #Kang taehyun #hueningkai #yeonjun smut #yeonjun angst #txt yeonjun #yeonjun imagines #txt #tomorrow by together #tomorrow x together #tomorrow by together fanfiction #yeonjun au #txt au #boyfriend yeonjun #txt scenarios

[behind-the-screen-of-bangtan]

The colors in BTS’ works - a noob study

I tried to see if there was anything worth analyzing about the colors and here’s what I came up with. As the title implies, I have no knowledge in color theory nor any observation skill so take it with a grain of salt and don’t hesitate to correct me if you see something wrong^^

When I talk about the main color of a video, I don’t mean it’s the only color used, I just mean that it’s the color that appears the most. It’s obviously completely subjective. Same goes with the identification of the colors: whether it’s a greyish blue or a bluish grey is up to everyone. Again if you disagree, don’t hesitate to tell me!

I’ll mainly focus on the MVs Lumpens worked on since they did the majority of the videos, including the BU ones. GDW did almost all the other MVs, they are usually a bit darker and more action-focused, think “Dope,” “Not Today,” or “Mic Drop”.

I also won’t talk about the Japanese MVs but usually, they have the same color pattern as the Korean version.

There’ll be five parts:

The creation of the world

The red string of fate

The Butterfly dream

The temptation of the Green Fairy

Finding New Neverland, namely accepting the world

The creation of the world

If there’s one dominant color in 2 Cool 4 Skool, it’s black. Be it the boys’ outfits, the background or the lighting, everything is mainly black. And it’s the case in the MVs and the photo concept. They just wear some gold accessories.

In O!RUL8,2? it’s the white that dominates. Interestingly, the two comeback trailers announcing this album start with black as the main color but end with white, like to make the transition between the two albums.

We can consider the boys are associated with the black color (2 Cool 4 Skool and their black uniform in O!RUL8,2?) while the outside world is white. They rebel against this world in “N.O” and win.

However, against all odds, they don’t turn the world in black, they themselves turn in white but with hip-hop outfits and gold accessories, like a white version of their 2 Cool 4 Skool selves. Where the black uniform seems to represent the world trying to force its ideal on the boys, to mold them to its convenience, the white hip-hop outfit could be the boys accepting the outside world without losing their soul, the white cover them like a second skin without hurting their core, namely hip-hop.

Now that black and white are at peace, they can coexist in Skool Luv Affair and Dark & Wild. Other colors will also start appearing, but everything remains quite monochromatic. The only notable color is the light/greyish-yellow, coming mostly from the lighting. Skool Luv Affair also has hints of green in reference to the chalkboard.

While we’re here, doesn’t “Danger” feels like the night version of “Just One Day”? In both, the boy is asking for the girl’s company but one is all black and the other is all white.

In parallel to those albums, we got two concerts: The Red Bullet and BTS Begins. The VCRs follow the aesthetic of an almost monochromatic world with low luminosity and a lot of black. The only exception is the outside scenes in BTS Begins when they all go to school and that have slightly more vivid colors - possibly because it is the outside world that they haven’t explored yet (but they will during 화양연화).

The concept photos also follow this idea. First black, then white, then the two together, then colors. From 2 Cool 4 Skool to 화양연화 Pt.2 we have:

The world stopped being a blinding white for the boy in black who’s now standing in a yellow desert.

The red string of fate

There’s one color I haven’t mentioned until now but that still appeared in a significant way: red.

Since this part is a bit long, I’ll rather redirect you toward A study in red, an old post I rewrote for the occasion.

To make it short, the theme the boys question during an era (happiness, love temptation...) has often a red color.

The boys alone in the desert finds a red string. He starts to follow it, hoping it will lead him to the sea.

The butterfly dream

They finished school and are ready to discover the other colors existing in the world. This way Hwa Yang Yeon Hwa doesn’t have a dominant hue but rather a more or less bright color palette.

What retained my attention was the green and the blue.

Note that I’m probably influenced by the Peter Pan references making me associate green with Peter himself and Neverland and “Sea” where the lyrics explain that the boys are searching for a sea in the desert.

So let’s rather just say the boys explore the outside world and so there are many colors.

One exception to this explosion of colors is “Save Me” with its grey tone. However, in the Concept Book, there’s a note saying “Save Me 화양연화 Pt.0.” And indeed the videos before 화양연화 had also a grey tone so it would actually connect well.

As You Never Walk Alone is the events between 화양연화 and WINGS, I’ll put it here. We still have a palette of colors, maybe slightly paler.

But the MVs have a dominant tone this time: green for “Spring Day,” pink for “Not Today.” I won’t detail “Not Today,” but you can consider its color like the pink of AWAKE or the purple of “Boy Meets Evil”

Interestingly, this green color is associated with the motel Omelas. And I just said we had a green Neverland in 화양연화. We could thus consider that the Omelas the boys are about to leave is the Neverland from 화양연화, the paradise where they thought they could stay young forever.

Where it gets beautiful is that the scenes outside have two main colors, yellow and blue, which mixed make green and that can also be connected with the yellow of the desert and the blue of the sea.

As they have blue and yellow maybe they can try to mix them to find back the happiness from Omelas/Neverland? Sidenote: in the NOW 3 in Chicago Dreaming Days, there’s a part called New Neverland and shot in a park with lots of green and blue. It tends to validate the idea above.

The boy found a green oasis on his path, but it’s not the blue sea he’s searching for.

The temptation of the Green Fairy

So actually the outside world isn’t all that great. Black makes its comeback but it doesn’t represent the boys anymore, it could represent the hostile world, the bad sides of life.

The Short Films are a good example. Four are mainly black: BEGIN, STIGMA, FIRST LOVE, and REFLECTION. LIE and MAMA are white with a hint of blue (sidenote: J-Hope and Jimin are a 화양연화 pair). AWAKE is blue. If we consider each short film as a step in the Demian progression, we can find an explanation:

the four black ones (Suga, RM, V, Jungkook) are still wandering between youth and adulthood, lost

the blue one (Jin) has reached adulthood, namely the blue sea. Note that considering the light blue of the room and the possibility Jin is the bird from Demian, we could also see it as a blue sky, the one you fly through to reach Abraxas.

J-Hope has almost reached the AWAKE stage so he has a white background with a blue pajama. Jimin lies and pretends he’s also near the final stage when actually he’s not.

We have a possible epilogue to J-Hope’s progression in “Boy Meets Evil.”

“Boy Meets Evil” is neither red (temptation) nor blue (AWAKE stage), it’s purple, right between the two. In the same idea, the hallway Jin crosses in AWAKE is pale pink so it seems that before reaching the final stage, you have to go through this pink/purple/red path.

“Blood, Sweat & Tears” (and the concert trailer for The Wings Tour actually) seems to be the same thing, but for the remaining boys. The temptation appears in hues of red and purple. And we even have a blue room, like in AWAKE.

But now let’s talk about the elephant in the room.

There’s green in “Blood, Sweat & Tears”. Like a ton of green. So much green, Jungkook actually mentioned it in the Episode.

You may remember I named this part “The temptation of the Green Fairy”. Green Fairy is one of the names used to designate Absinthe, the green liquid RM drinks in the MV. Basically, it’s associated with decadence, death, and poets.

So it seems this time the green color isn’t related to Neverland/Omelas/Youth but to the theme of the album, namely temptation. But why the change then? Usually, they have the red color for the theme of the album.

It’s just my guess but since another theme of WINGS is the end of youth, it could be that the boys are too old for Neverland and so it becomes toxic for them: they have to let go of their childhood (and find the New Neverland/Blue Sea).

Red is the general idea of temptation - think about the red apple - while green would be the temptation to live in the past - funny for a time travel story, isn’t it?

The boy misses the green oasis, he wants to step back rather than searching for the sea.

Finding New Neverland, namely accepting the world

And finally, we reach Love Yourself era. While it’s pretty clear all the colors are brighter than in any other era, it’s hard to find dominant ones. Be it the Highlight Reels or Euphoria, we have a color palette like during HYYH, probably meaning the boys are exploring the outside world.

But it seems yellow and blue are slightly more present in the MVs for the main tracks. You can also think about the blue mold and the yellow blanket in “Serendipity”.

They accept to renounce to the green and to rather live in a world with yellow and blue, namely the desert and the sea. Like they accept to love themselves no matter how imperfect they are, they accept the world.

The last hints of green are in “Serendipity” and “Epiphany”. In the first one, it’s probably a remaining illusion. Tear proved Her is a lie:

the black “Singularity” invalidated the green “Serendipity”. They’re still trying to escape the world of temptations like in WINGS

“FAKE LOVE” going from the blue sea to the yellow desert invalidated the illusion from “DNA” where blue and yellow existed together

The green in “Epiphany” is most likely Jin's last attempt to change the past: the current time is grey, it turns green when Jin travels back in time and goes back to grey when he reaches the same future. I said it’s his last attempt because at the end when he goes out, the colors stay grey and it fits with the lyrics.

As this time they accepted their destiny, it seems the yellow and blue co-existing in “IDOL” is for real this time.

The boy found the blue sea. He doesn’t hate the yellow desert anymore. He has reached the New Neverland.

As a picture is worth a thousand words, I’ll use an ugly one for my conclusion:

Nota Bene: it’s interesting to consider those colors based on the Teageuk. The red is associated with the negative cosmic energies and the Earth: it’s the dystopian world from where the boys started. The blue is associated with positive energies and Heaven: it’s the ocean the boys dream to reach. Yellow represents humanity: the boys are in the desert and eventually they realize it’s from this desert that the ocean comes from. Combining the yellow humanity with the blue hope gives green, which represents youth in Bangtan’s works according to the WINGS Concept Book.

#BTS #Love Yourself #Wings #Hwa Yang Yeon Hwa #Dark & Wild #School Trilogy #Color study

[therebelsthemartyrsthesurvivors]

Changing the Narrative

While confronting the Holocaust in Germany and Poland, visiting Auschwitz-Birkenau, Treblinka II, the memorial sites, I had an epiphany: the victims of the Holocaust are always labeled as victims and the perpetrators are always infamously talked about, as if they should be the main focus in our history books. These people, these “victims” were fighters and martyrs who knew about sacrifice and the possibility of death. Some survived death when they were only a few feet away from it, and not even this scare turned them away from returning to dreadful places like the Warsaw Ghetto to warn others of the fate that was awaiting them in death camps like Treblinka II. We do not give credit where credit is due. We do not talk about people like Emanuel Ringelblum, we talk about people like Heinrich Himmler. We do not talk about people like Jan Karski, we talk about people like Rudolf Höss. Because of course we have to mention the evil behind it all, but we give credit where credit is not deserved, and we see this at memorial sites, we see this at museums, we see this in poor representations of the Holocaust in film, media, in museum tours, and literature. We focus on the perpetrators and the bystanders, the people at fault, but we never focus on the fact that there was a resistance, there was hope, there were uprisings fueled by hope and the unity of persecuted peoples.

This paper is meant to ethically represent the Holocaust— the survivors, the resistance, and the rebels— those who rebelled against the odds and fought a fate decided for them by the infamous perpetrators and the bystanders. This paper is meant to highlight the stories we do not always talk about. In this paper I will be focusing on three specific groups of the many peoples targeted in the Holocaust, specifically Jews, women and children (including the unborn), and the LGBT community. This paper is a written self-reflection based on my experiences confronting the Holocaust as a survivor of assault. I want to change the narrative and focus on the stories that matter, reflect on the truth of the Holocaust, and discuss what can be done differently to respectfully and ethically commemorate the survivors and “victims” of the Holocaust. In this paper, I will argue and defend the fact that the so-called “victims” were martyrs, and the survivors were the greatest resistance of all.

THE HEAD, NOT THE TAIL

Dating back to 1930s Europe, the persecution of Jews had started much earlier than is recognized. Propaganda was used to divide communities, and successfully turned the backs of non-Jewish neighbors on their Jewish neighbors (as we see in several pogroms that occurred throughout the war— before, during, and after), however men were targeted before women and children. German Jewish men were being deported and interned far before German Jewish women were because women clearly were not even remotely viewed as a threat. In reference to Between Dignity and Despair, a historical account written by Marion Kaplan, German Jewish women were vital to the survival of German Jewish men deported and interned prior to the creation of ghettos and the decision to exterminate all Jews. Men “were forced to flee promptly” (Kaplan 24). Wives and mothers were responsible for saving their husbands from permanent internment in camps. These women learned several languages to be able to locate their husbands and fathers, and they managed to hold down the household, all at once. German Jewish women had “the burden of keeping their households and communities together.” (Kaplan 6) Men were only set free because their female relatives located them and provided them with the identification papers necessary to be released. It was their female relatives who tracked them down and released them from internment. They newly learned how to financially support their families, how to get by with the few resources they had, and they learned how to use these few resources to accomplish finding a site of refuge. We never hear these stories though, and we need to change the narrative.

The Greatest Crime. Jewish and Roma women were a persecuted minority. Jewish women more exclusively because they had the ability to procreate Jewish children, and of course, Jewish lineage is passed on through the mother. This was viewed as a political threat to the Third Reich.

At Auschwitz and Ravensbrück, Jewish and Roma women were subject to forced sterilization methods to test which methods would be most cost effective. Other “undesirables” were also exposed to forced sterilization at these camps. Upon arrival at Auschwitz-Birkenau, visibly pregnant Jewish women and Jewish women with small children were sent directly to the gas chambers to be killed. The story of Jewish women and children entering Auschwitz-Birkenau is a painful one. Dr. Josef Mengele, infamously known for conducting medical experiments on twins at Auschwitz-Birkenau, was responsible for the decision that declared that Jewish women with small children entering the camp would be gassed. His logic was that the small Jewish children had nowhere to go because all Jews were imprisoned in the camps, they could not work, and there weren’t any facilities on the camp where they could live and develop “normally”. He also claimed it would not be humane if he sent the children on their own to the “ovens” without allowing the mother to be there to witness the child’s death, so the mother and child would be sent together. We hear about Dr. Josef Mengele every time we talk about Auschwitz, but someone we never talk about who is incredibly vital to the survival of Jews in Auschwitz was Dr. Gisella Perl.

A Hero in Hell. Dr. Perl was a Hungarian gynecologist who was interned as a Jewish prisoner at Auschwitz, yet was also the head women’s doctor. Dr. Perl once spoke that the greatest crime at Auschwitz was being pregnant. She worked under Dr. Mengele and was ordered to notify him of any pregnant women that were living onsite at the camp. Dr. Mengele claimed that these women were going to be sent to a different camp to receive better nutrition. Women quickly came forward on their own, but it was soon learned these women were being experimented on and were sent thereafter to the crematoriums. Dr. Perl made it her mission to save as many women as possible while she could. She performed secret abortions on the dirty, excrement-infested floors in the barracks with her bare hands. She explained to the expecting mothers that two lives would be lost if they went through with their pregnancy because becoming pregnant in the camps meant a death sentence was awaiting them.

Fertility = Sabotage = Resistance. Interestingly enough, pregnancy was not at all uncommon on these cursed grounds where pregnancy was supposedly “not allowed”. However, brothels were common and contraceptives were clearly not available to women. Male prisoners would often seek out sexual favors in exchange of goods that would help a woman survive at the camp. There were barracks specifically used by the SS to molest and rape Jewish women. “Their actions and feelings towards Jewish women created inner conflicts for the SS officers, leading to violence against the women, who were blamed for seducing the officers” (Holland, par. 5). Age was not a restriction either. Thousands of babies were born at Auschwitz but were almost all immediately executed upon exiting the womb. Dr. Perl saved many women from instant death with the hope that they would one day have a family of their own, outside of the hell they were living in. There are only two known infants who were born in the Auschwitz-Birkenau camp and survived. A one year old weighed in at six pounds and was so weak that she could never cry, which is how she survived. She was easy to hide because no one ever heard a sound coming from her. Her mother was dying due to starvation when she gave birth to her. We never hear these stories though, and we need to change the narrative.

IDENTITY

We seldom hear about the LGBT community when we talk about the Holocaust. I could even use the word ‘never’ if I wanted to because if we are being honest, the LGBT community is not commonly included in the narrative. Members of the LGBT community faced harsh, brutal treatment in concentration camps and were treated far worse than political prisoners, Jehovah’s witnesses, the Roma, criminals, and asocials. Lesbians were subject to black triangles and labeled as “asocials” instead of receiving the pink triangle which was meant to label a person as being gay. These pink triangles assigned to gay men were commonly used as shooting targets for the SS. Compared to gay men, lesbians were hardly viewed as a threat, but they were raped and “forced” to verbally change their sexual orientation. SS men found that lesbians were the easiest to sexually convert. Gay men in Germany were forcibly castrated. Boiling water was used to literally boil off their testicles. They were called in to local police stations where they were sodomized with the ends of broken broomsticks and the torture would not end until they bled. Gay men in the Holocaust were considered the “lowest of the low” but this is often omitted from history books and Holocaust literature.

Homosexuals are not Cowards. Willem Arondéus was an openly gay, anti-fascist resistance fighter. Arondéus was one of the very first to join the Dutch resistance and his underground organization provided Jews with fake identities. In 1943, he was responsible for the bombing of a public records office that contained a catalog with the names of hundreds of thousands of Dutch people residing in Amsterdam. This was important specifically in the case of Dutch Jews because Nazis were using the catalog to look into fake identities. He planned the attack on the records office with the help of other resistance fighters, many of them also openly gay. We do not mention the fact that he dressed as a German Army captain and walked fifteen men past guards to enter the records office. We do not mention the fact that Frieda Belinfante, a classical cellist, talented conductor, and open lesbian, was one of his main resistance fighters. The rebels marched into the building, they drugged the rest of the guards, and set up the explosives. They destroyed nearly a quarter of the public records office.

We need to talk about the fact that this moment, this decision, kept thousands of Jews from being deported and identified. Unfortunately, someone within the underground organization betrayed them and turned them all in. Arondéus said he acted alone in the bombing, but the Nazis executed him and the other thirteen resistance fighters anyway. The rest of the rebels managed to flee the country. Arondéus’ last words, spoken through his lawyer, were Homosexuals are not cowards. I have to write this in bold. I have to emphasize what was meant to be emphasized by Willem Arondéus. Homosexuals are not cowards. It is a rare opportunity that we get to hear these stories of justice, resistance, rebellion, and we need to change the narrative.

THE REBELS            

There is one last person I feel an intense need to talk about, and that person is Emanuel Ringelblum. I mentioned him earlier as someone we do not typically talk about and I want to end that. I feel it is important to address that there was a Jewish resistance and Emanuel Ringelblum was a huge part of it. Many people believe that Jews could have risen up against the Nazis and that they could have “actually done something”. Here is another ounce of proof that Jews resisted and rebelled and survived and actually did something.

The Archives. Ringelblum is responsible for the Oneg Shabbat Archives, better known now as Ringelblum’s Archives of the Warsaw Ghetto, which I will refer to as “the archives”. He was the inspiration behind the secret Oneg Shabbat Archives, which translates to “Sabbath pleasure”. Naming the archives “Oneg Shabbat” was technically code because Ringelblum and other archivists would meet late afternoons on the Sabbath, which is why the archives are named as such. During the day they would take in as much information as possible and write notes on what happened at night. The idea was to document the atrocities of the Nazis in the ghetto, and the archives played a huge role in memorializing those who passed on from starvation, those who were transported to Treblinka II. The archives have kept memory alive, stories, testimonials; they are living words that have survived. These stories, these documents are proof that the Holocaust happened, that there was a resistance, that people knew they might more than likely die, but they wrote anyway. If they were caught writing the archives, they would undoubtedly be killed, and they knew that. Most of the archivists who contributed to the Oneg Shabbat Archives passed away during the war, many of them deported to Treblinka II. This form of resistance is so significant and powerful because they did not resist with violence, yet these archives were a huge slap in the face for any Nazi, any bystander, anyone who was complicit with Nazi crimes because these archives proved that people knew they might die, it proved that people were not just dying because they were weaker or lesser or incapable; they were not dumb, they were not cowards. It proved that Jews were persecuted and it proved that they fought back in every way they could think of. If anything was going to survive persecution and death, it would be the truth. The Truth Meant Survival and Resistance. The one thing the Third Reich wanted to disappear more than the Jews was any memory of the Jews. Any memory of them resisting, rebelling, fighting back; any memory of them, any record of them living, any suitcase, pocket watch, or hairbrush that belonged to them. Anti-semites tried to strip Jews of everything they were, everything they had, every bit of their identity. There are two sides to the story of Jews during the Holocaust, and only two: Hope and Resistance. If Jews were so sure they were going to die, why would they try to fit their lives in little suitcases? Because they had hope. If Jews didn’t think and know they might die, they wouldn’t leave behind three milk cans worth of archives to keep their memory and stories alive. Keeping the truth alive was resistance. Ringelblum is important because he stripped the Nazis of their superficial identities. He stripped away the false importance that the Nazis gave themselves and he revealed the atrocities committed. All of the archivists revealed the cowards hiding behind the curtain, a curtain called “propaganda”. “The archive materials and Ringelblum's own written chronicles constitute the most comprehensive and valuable source of information we have” (“Emanuel Ringelblum”, 2018). Had Ringelblum not initiated the secret archives, we would not know a whole lot of what we do know now because of these documents. We probably wouldn’t know much of anything that transpired in the Warsaw Ghetto without these documents. We would not know a whole lot of what occurred in occupied-Poland. We would not know a whole lot of the truth without the Oneg Shabbat Archives. We never hear these stories though, and we need to change the narrative.

LACK OF ETHICAL REPRESENTATION AND MEMORIALIZATION      

We never hear these stories because people and governments feel threatened by the truth, they feel accused, they might feel ridiculed, they might be in denial. In Germany and Poland, I witnessed the way “homosexuals” who were persecuted during the Holocaust still are not ethically represented at memorial sites, at museums, by the tour guide at Auschwitz who spoke the words “homosexual rape” back to back in the same sentence to try to describe how one prisoner at Auschwitz sodomized and simply raped another man, neither known for being gay. I witnessed the way “homosexuals” are represented by a small concrete box, hidden off in a park, with a sweet video that truly does no justice to the people who were considered the lowest of the low in concentration camps and were treated as such; treated like target practice and science experiments. I witnessed the way an information panel at the Sachsenhausen concentration camp incorrectly included all members of the LGBT community under the same word, homosexual, when there was a photo of a young transgender woman pictured clearly right in front of me, but unless you have been to these places, you would not know of these stories, and I need to change the narrative.

Neglect.  I witnessed the way women were neglected at memorial sites. I witnessed the way the unborn were neglected at memorial sites. I witnessed the way it was common to hear that there were brothels at concentration camps, and I’ve read so many stories of women who saved lives in the concentration camps, yet we do not memorialize women as we do others. We categorize them under other groups of people, we steal parts of their identity that we do not want to ethically represent because “other people suffered too” and it “wasn’t just a war on women”, yet we have women being raped, being used for sexual favors, being killed upon arrival at concentration camps because being pregnant is a crime if you are considered an “undesirable”. Even German women were targets and were often forced to procreate to snowball the production of Aryan children, the opposite situation compared to that of a Jewish woman. I witnessed the way children were neglected at memorials. In the war, they were treated like adults, even though they were far from transitioning into adulthood. They were raped, beaten, abused, experimented on, and then discarded. If they were too young to work, they died in gas chambers. Some children worked in the camps at an age as early as five years old if they looked older enough, lying their way through the selection process to survive. Treated like adults then, barely memorialized now.

Knowing these stories that we do not talk about, I felt a moral obligation to address these issues and how a lot of these issues are still relevant to today. In Germany, memorial sites were neglected— blown-out speakers, waterproof lighting issues— not to mention, Nazi-era laws are still in place in the country to this day. In Poland, I met and spoke to locals who support the new Polish laws that are completely anti-semitic and are a sad example of Holocaust denial. I will not even begin to readdress what I mentioned about the tour guide at Auschwitz who referred to rape as “homosexual rape”. Ultimately, I think what made me feel uncomfortable in some of the cities I visited in Germany and Poland was the fact that there is still a lingering presence of what happened, yet people try to suppress it. It is almost as though there is no aftermath, and we are stuck in the past like it is still happening. It appears to be believed at memorial sites that so long as there is some contribution made to the memorialization of persecuted minorities that all is well, yet the memory of persecuted homosexuals is kept boxed in, closeted. There is no visible effort to protect the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe. People sit on the memorial, have picnics at the memorial site, on the concrete blocks that are a part of the memorial. There are signs promoting “Hitler’s [recreated] Bunker” in Berlin that surround the area where the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe is located. In regards to the educational tours, at least there is some contribution being made to spread the knowledge and awareness of what happened, but to call Auschwitz I “Auschwitz Muzeum” is unethical, uncomfortable, and desensitizing. In Oranienburg, Germany, one of the original meeting places for SS officers/commanders was repurposed as a city tax office. Their new police academy building is also repurposed SS property, and sits right in front of the Sachsenhausen concentration camp. Sachsenhausen is uncomfortably referred to as a museum as well. I understand that these are now historical sites and that there are exhibits at some of these camps, but I will never understand why we cannot just refer to them for what they were. When I visit these locations, I know exactly what happened and I do not view these places like they are museums, no matter how many exhibits there are in front of me. Real human hair is not an exhibit. Shoes that belonged to people is not an exhibit. The suitcases, the kitchenware, the glasses, the pocket watches. None of this belongs behind the wall of a glass case.

People died.

‘Museum’ is not the term used to represent a location where hundreds of thousands of real people died. Where human beings died.

CONCLUSION        

The truth cannot die. These stories cannot be made to disappear. No law can change the past, alter the past, nor can it convince me to ignore the past. I have seen what denial looks like at memorial sites. I have seen what denial looks like at museums. Because of this, I cannot ignore the truth, but I can change the narrative. I can share what I have learned, I can raise awareness, I can share the stories. I know that homosexuals are not cowards. I know that lesbians, women, children, Jews, European Roma, the resistance, the archivists… are not cowards. History knows this. History has seen this. Children and newborns survived Auschwitz when they shouldn’t have. Jewish women remained fertile when they shouldn’t have. Members of the LGBT community survived when they shouldn’t have. Jews survived when they shouldn’t have. Jewish lineage was passed on when it was meant to be cut off. History knows that the “victims” were martyrs, and the survivors were the greatest resistance of all. It is vital to share the stories of people like Dr. Gisella Perl, Willem Arondéus, and Emanuel Ringelblum. Spreading awareness is vital. Making note of unethical representation and memorialization is vital, correcting it is vital.

Memory will live on, as will the stories and the journal entries. Traditions will live on, lineage will be passed on, and the rebels will never really die. We cannot forget the stories that matter, the legacies that matter, and the people who changed the course of the Holocaust. There was a resistance. There was hope. We cannot let the truth die. We must preserve the truth, identity, history. Because if we do not defend history, it will be rewritten over and over again and the truth will be at risk. The Holocaust has truly nothing to do with the perpetrators and everything to do with the difference makers. It has everything to do with the survivors and the martyrs. It has everything to do with resistance and hope.

But this is never how the story goes, and we need to change the narrative. 

#holocaust #history #jewishhistory #jewishcommunity #socialjustice #socialinjustice #immigrantslivesmatter #migrantslivesmatter #blacklivesmatter #antisemitismisasin

[j-writes-and-suffers]

NaNoWriMo Day Six

Anxious for his upcoming performance, Philip had struggled to get to sleep. Nonetheless, he got up with an unusually early alarm, remembering his promise to Lucien about being on time. He downed two full cups of coffee to fight the lingering drowsiness before grabbing his bag and heading off towards campus.

By the time he reached the academic hall, Philip was bouncing off the walls. Maybe he hadn’t needed quite so much caffeine. The extra energy was sending his anxiety through the roof, and he found himself pacing nervously to kill time before the poetry slam started. Staring intently at the ground as he walked, he was too caught up in his own nerves to notice Lucien walking up behind him. The older man put a hand on Philip’s shoulder, causing the young blond to shriek in surprise.

“Fuck! How do you sneak up on people like that?”

Lucien shrugged. “Libraries are quiet. It wouldn’t suit me to be a lumbering oaf. What’s gotten you so worked up?”

Philip sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m just nervous to perform. I haven’t actually been in a poetry slam since high school…”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be fine. You’re very animated, I bet your delivery will be excellent.” The lanky brunette rested a hand on Philip’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Besides, I’ll still make you dinner if you bomb.”

“So you think I might bomb?” The younger man asked, wringing his hands together.

Lucien rolled his eyes. “No, that’s not what I said. Stop being so pessimistic.”

Philip groaned. “I’m not trying to! I’m just scared.”

“Most of the people performing are over-dramatic undergrad hipsters that can’t actually write to save their life. I promise, you won’t be nearly the worst act.” Lucien reassured him. “Come on, everyone is gathering.” He led Philip into the lecture hall nudging him towards the front where the other performers were waiting.

The anxious blond fiddled with one of his earrings, bouncing where he stood. Dr. Samuels, the head of the English department, was currently greeting the audience, going off on some long-winded rant about the importance of poetry. When he finally shut up, he stepped aside, calling forth the first student.

About five or six people went ahead of Philip, and he started to relax as he realized most of them were pretty shit. After an absolutely awful love poem finished, he was called up, and he felt his nerves fading a little. He spied Lucien as he scanned the crowd, and shared a brief smile with the older man.

“Hello, everyone. I… I’m Philp Valentine, the new English professor. Here’s a piece I wrote a few years back. It’s… It’s called Late Nights.” He cleared his throat, taking a slow, deep breath before he began.

“There's a monster in my house. He roams the house at night. He screams, he hunts, he breaks things; The house is filled with fright.

No one steps outside their room after the midnight hour. A vicious, violent demon, the monster has the power.

One night, I kept a vigil to face the awful beast. The hour didn't phase me-- I like the dark, to say the least.

I didn't notice anything; I waited till the dawn. The monster always comes at night. Did I do something wrong?

As I went to lie down, I walked by the bedroom mirror. Thinking I saw something odd, I paused to see it clearer.

Menacing and soulless, the piercing eyes glared. Too mortified to look away, I analyzed and stared.

I saw hatred in the face, the scowl angry and bitter. Something seemed to click, so I looked a little deeper.

Somewhere beneath the malice the soul was worn and lonely. A silent plea for what once was: ‘Can't someone find the old me?’

I sank into an epiphany as I rubbed my tired eyes: the demon faced me in the mirror; the monster was inside.”

The audience was silent for a moment. Once the awe faded, a round of applause filled the room. Though Philip was no Robert Frost, it was easily the best piece at the show, and most of the students looked pretty damn impressed. He beamed to the crowd, grinning as he walked offstage. Lucien, however, didn’t seem as happy. His eyes had grown dark a few lines into the poem, and his expression was still dour in its aftermath. As Philip moved to sit down, he saw Lucien’s distaste, and his face quickly fell.

“You didn’t like it…” He sighed, sinking down in the seat Lucien had saved for him.

The older man snapped out of his morose state, turning to Philip and shaking his head. “No, no, it’s not that. It just got me thinking. You’re a good writer. Certainly better than any of the clowns before you.”

“Oh…” Philip perked back up, “It made you think? For real?”

“Of course. It was inspiring. You painted a vivid picture.” Lucien offered a smile.

The younger man blushed, the pink tone highlighting his freckles like a backlight. “Thank you! That means a lot, you know… You’re kind of an expert on literature.”

Lucien laughed, “You hold me too highly.”

“I respect your opinion, you old fart! Don’t brush off my compliment.” Philip stuck his tongue out.

“There you go calling me old again! For god’s sake, I’m maybe ten years your senior!”

“My senior citizen.”

Lucien huffed, rolling his eyes and giving Philip a playful shove. “You’re horrible.”

“Yeah,” The younger man grinned, “but you like me anyway.”

“I know.” Lucien chuckled, shaking his head and turning to listen to more mediocre poetry.

The rest of the slam went well, considering the quality of the poetry being read. Everyone seemed proud of their stuff, even the ones that definitely shouldn’t have been, and afterwards, the head of the English department passed out punch and cookies. The kids got to chattering, some asking questions of the teachers as well. Philip made friendly small talk, basking in the praise the students gave him for his poem. Once the kids were bored of him, he got distracted eating, too busy sucking down cookies to notice Lucien slip away. He turned to make a rude joke, only to realize he was alone. Feeling a little rejected, Philip moved to the corner, shoving another cookie in his mouth.

As the students dissipated from the lecture hall, Philip got up, dragging his feet as he reluctantly helped his fellow English professors clean up. He greabbed a trash can, gathering all the stray cups and napkins that assholes had just left on desks. Once the room was actually clean and presentable again, he walked out of the building, headed towards his apartments rather than the library. He assumed Lucien had finally gotten bored of him, and certainly wouldn’t want to see more of him. He trudged along so slowly that his hour-long walk home took a good chunk of the afternoon, and upon returning to his apartment, he simply dropped onto the couch, turning on some mindless Netflix series to distract himself.

Philip ended up passing out on the couch, sleeping through the night and well into the morning. When he finally woke up, sunlight was already pouring in the windows, and he grabbed his phone to check the time. Getting only the black screen of dead battery, he cussed and hurried to his room, plugging it in and looking at the alarm clock.

1:47. 

“Fuck!”

Throwing on a clean shirt and grabbing his bag off the floor, Philip bolted out of his apartment and down the stairs. He had been due at the dodgeball game over an hour ago, and it would take him another hour just to get to the school. He was going to be in so much trouble. Lucien’s warning about tardiness echoed in the back of his mind, and Philip cringed, still feeling shunned after yesterday. By the time he got to campus, the game was long over, the teachers having beat the students 5 - 3. He waved sheepishly at Dr. Samuels, trying to avoid eye contact.

“Heyyyyy….”

“Where were you?” The professor demanded, glaring down at Philip.

The younger man shied away, sheepishly mumbling, “I… I overslept.”

The tubby older man huffed angrily, rolling his eyes. “Don’t let it happen again, Valentine. You’re not making a good first impression.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry sir.” Philip cringed, feeling his soul wither. “Can I do anything to help now?”

“Just go to the parade tomorrow, help clean up after the picnic, and don’t make any more of a fool of yourself. Do you think you can handle that?”

Philip nodded. “Yes sir.” He shuffled away before Samuels could dig into him any more; his self-esteem was frail enough already.

Not having any other obligations for the day, Philip simply dragged his sorry ass back home. He checked on his phone, which had barely charged while he was gone. Ugh. His charger was a fraying piece of shit, but he hadn’t had the time or money to get a new one. Oh, well. It wasn’t like he was going anywhere with it right now, anyway. He curled up on the couch, trying to ignore the growing storm of negative thoughts in his mind. He was such an idiot. Not only had he scared off Lucien, but now his boss was pissed at him, too. God, this week was a mess.

Philip was half asleep on the couch when his laptop started beeping. Who was skyping him? It’s not like he had friends that cared enough. He rubbed his eyes, opening up the computer to answer the call.

“Mom?”

“Hi, honey! How are you?”

Philip yawned, brows furrowing in confusion. “Since when do you know how to use skype?”

“Your brother taught me!” She smiled, “I wanted to see you. So does Callie. Come here, Callie!”

A loud bark echoed through the speakers as a long, furry face popped into view. Philip grinned broadly. Callie was a loving Afghan that had been his best friend since late high school, and he had been missing her tremendously. “Hi, Callie! How are you? Are you being good for mom?”

“Woof!” She replied, clearly just as excited to see him.

“I’m gonna come home and visit you as soon as I can, okay?” Callie barked again, bumping her nose against the screen. Philip laughed quietly, his spirits lifted. “I’m glad you called, mom. I’ve been missing you guys. Is something up? Did you need to talk?”

“No, I just thought I should check in on you. Something told me you could use a smile today.”

“You’re not wrong.” Philip smiled ruefully. “It’s been a hell of a day. I overslept and missed the dodgeball game. Dr. Samuels was piiiiissed.”

“Philip!” She rolled her eyes. “You promised me you were going to be better about your alarms this year.”

The young blond pouted. “I have been, I swear! Yesterday was just a bad day, and it threw me off.”

“Is there something you need to talk about, honey?”

Philip shook his head. “Nah, it’s… it’s fine. It’s nothing important. I’ll get over it soon.”

“Are you sure?” His mother sounded worried, “I’m always here if you need to talk.”

“I know, I know. I promise, I’ll talk to you if it’s serious. This is just dumb drama.” He reassured her.

“Okay, honey. As long as you’re doing okay.” She paused briefly to sniff the air, recognizing the aroma of slightly burning seasonings. “Oh dear, I need to go check on the chicken. I’ll talk to you later.”

Philip chuckled. His mom was just as scatterbrained as he was, with the tendency to forget about something the second he looked away from it. “Bye, mom.”

“Bye honey!” She hung up, running off to pull her chicken out of the oven.

Stretching back out on the couch, Philip closed his eyes. He was more relaxed than before; just seeing his family and talking to someone that actually cared had taken a huge weight off his chest. Besides, it was hard to be upset with Callie around. A faint smile still on his face, he drifted back off to sleep.

#nanowrimo #nanowrimo 2017 #fantasy #modern fantasy #comedy #school #my writing

[dippedanddripped]

Between 5 and 15% of people have experienced some form of synesthesia, according to the National Institutes of Health. The cross-wiring in the brain causes a second stimuli not associated with the first — some people visualize shapes when they hear sounds, for instance.

People with chromesthesia "see" color in sound. Lady Gaga, Pharrell and Kanye West have all talked about having the condition. So does artist Melissa McCracken, who creates paintings based on the colors and scenes evoked by her favorite music, from Jimi Hendrix to the Spice Girls.

"To be honest, I grew up not even thinking about it at all," McCracken tells Here & Now's Robin Young. "It just was something that was natural, and [I] never second-guessed it, never even considered that someone might not be experiencing it as well."

McCracken recalls a memory from when she was a teenager that shed light on how she saw things differently than others: She had a navy blue phone, and wanted to find a ringtone that would complement that color.

"I found this Michael Jackson song, and I turned to my friend and I was like, 'Oh, my gosh, this is perfect. It's an orange song. It matches my phone perfectly.' And he jumped in and he said, 'What do you mean it matches?' " McCracken says. "That was kind of the epiphany moment of, 'Oh, my gosh, I might be experiencing things differently.' "

Interview Highlights

On how she experiences chromesthesia

"The best way that I can describe it is that it kind of sits where my memories sit, but kind of floating in space a little bit. It doesn't inhibit my sight in any way. But it's almost like a filter, kind of above my eyeline a little bit."

On her painting "Little Wing," inspired by the Jimi Hendrix song of the same name

"I really wanted to make a focal point on the guitar. And it's always had this kind of gold effect to the electric guitar, and it sits in this kind of heavenly blue-ish and kind of pink and purple cloudy-like area. That's kind of what comes up every single time I listen to it.

"It is a lot of color going on, and in the experience itself, there's a lot more movement. It's kind of translated into this static image, but there's a lot more movement going on, a lot more fading and new images coming in. So it's kind of a picking and choosing process of what elements I feel are most vital to the entire experience."

"I honestly love it. Being an artist, I love color anyway, so it is a nice little added little surprise to my world."

On her painting inspired by John Lennon's "Imagine"

"The piano chords kind of have this sort of marble-draped effect of different blues and golds, and they're kind of melting into each other. And then he also has more of a yellow voice, that's kind of floaty and comforting-looking. It also kind of resides in this cloudy-like space, similar to the 'Little Wing' painting."

"Different songs I guess start with different canvases. Sometimes I would say that my blank mind or the mind at the beginning of a song is more white or cream or just kind of a cloudy-like space. Other times it feels like I'm in the depths of space, and that it's a navy blue kind of celestial sort of background. So that all is dependent on what song I'm listening to, but it varies for sure."

On an in-progress painting inspired by the Spice Girls song "Wannabe"

"I don't know which came first, the colors or the song itself and my love for the song. But it's a lot of pinks and purples and oranges, and they kind of have smaller shapes to them. But it is more like a kaleidoscope effect, and more little bits are happening in it that don't overpower the entire image."

On the difference between "graphing" synesthesia and "sequential" synesthesia, and how they manifest

"The graphing synesthesia is letters and numbers that are translated into color, and then the spatial sequential synesthesia is where you have anything that comes in a sequential form, like numbers or months of the year or days of the week, they sit in a designated point in space around your body. So I have those forms as well as the chromesthesia.

"So if I'm making plans to meet someone, I might think of Monday kind of to the far right top of my right eye, essentially. I think that it's a fairly common form. My mom also has that form, and my dad does a little bit, too."

On whether she sees synesthesia as entirely positive

"I mean, I honestly love it. Being an artist, I love color anyway, so it is a nice little added little surprise to my world, I guess. The only distraction is that I think sometimes when I meet someone and I know that their name starts with a blue color — that could be an A or an F or something like that, so that gives me too many options for remembering what their name was. But yeah, it's definitely mostly beneficial."

#art #music blog

[hellomissmabel]

Bye Bye Brooklyn Boys (10)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky x reader, Steve x reader

Warnings: This is just so sad. Language.

Word count: 1.822 (had to cut this part in two to avoid it becoming more a novel than a fic series)

Summary: SPN CROSSOVER and a very special thank you to @a-little-hell-to-raise for helping me out with writing Dean!

September, October, November , December,

January , February, March,  April

May

June

It’s been a month since Natasha and I had that very enlightening conversation about what truly matters in life and what didn’t make the cut. Our paths have crossed a couple of times since then but neither Steve nor myself acknowledge one another, terrified of the results of engaging in a conversation, deciding that ignorance is the best approach when you’re still suffering from a heartbreak that should’ve been resolved ages ago.

“That’s it for today, guys. Please make sure to hand in your paper by the end of the week or marks will be lost!” You conclude the lecture and swiftly leave the auditorium, checking your watch one last time to assess the damage done.

Immediately you’re distracted by your phone, fingers typing away on another message to Natasha telling her you’re not going to make it in time for girl’s night, the absolute highlight of your week. There had been minor technical issues and since you couldn’t start until they had been fixed, all courses had been suspended indefinitely. When you were finally able to resume your classes, you were also bombarded with more questions than you had initially anticipated, causing even more delay.

Dean was coming from the opposite direction, equally invested in his phone as he was trying to pinpoint where exactly it was again that he had agreed to meet with his brother Sam, filling in for another professor who called in sick and would be absent until further notice. He swore he put it down somewhere in his phone, but alas, nothing was to be found and just as he was about to round the corner, he bumped into you.

Squealing in surprise, you dropped your purse in front of him and quickly tried to scramble everything back together, noticing a stray tube of pink lipstick had made its way over to where the fine-looking stranger was standing. He bent down to pick it up for you, the taut muscles of his abdomen flexing under the tight grey shirt he was wearing. You would be lying to yourself if you didn’t consider the view to be mouth-watering to say the least, with his jade eyes and chestnut hair because clearly this man must be the personification of ruggedly handsome. He looks like a bad boy with his ripped jeans and leather jacket and although you’ve had some bad experiences with his kind, it would be such a shame to deprive yourself from this exquisite specimen of a human being.

After retrieving your lipstick he hands it back to you, his fingers briefly brushing your soft skin and you feel yourself being catapulted to cloud nine. Is this what it feels like to be struck by lightning? It wasn’t until he clears his throat for the third time in a row, you notice you are still holding on to the lipstick in his hand.

“If you wanted to hold my hand, sweetheart, you didn’t have to drop everything, you could’ve just asked me,” he chuckles softly, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and you’re desperately holding on to every last breath of air, his low voice and sexy accent sending goose bumps to rise all over your skin.

You inhale sharply, dropping your hand to your side. “Oh God, that’s so cheesy,” you laugh nervously and he smiles a big toothy grin, disregarding some of the weirdness between the two of you. “Does that line even work?”

“I don’t know, does it?” He kinks a suggestive eyebrow and his smirk grows even bigger, green eyes searching yours, watching intently.

“Uhm, yeah… Kind of… I guess,” you murmur as colour rises to your cheeks, tinting them a darker shade of pink. You avert your eyes and stuff your lipstick away. From the corner of your eye you can see him staring at you, blushing slightly when you look back up and catch him in the act.

He extends his hand and introduces himself, his handshake firm and his hands a little calloused. “I’m Dean, Dean Winchester.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” you say shyly, straightening your back a little so you’d make at least make a good second impression, “I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Y/N, such a lovely name,” he coos and shoots you a wink. If he was trying to seduce you with his voice then it was working like a damn charm.

“Well,” you cough a little, ridding yourself of the tight feeling in your chest, “I guess I better get going or my roommate is going to skin me alive.”

“We can’t have that now can we?,” he grins before adding “Hey, mind if I make it up to you?” and softly placing his hand on your upper arm.

Your eyebrows knit together in a frown, your voice suddenly dry at the possible suggestion of a date. “Make it up to me?,” you squeak, cussing internally at yourself for sounding like an excited squirrel.

“Yeah, how about pancakes? Tomorrow morning? There’s a nice diner a couple blocks away, my brother and I go there all the time. Best breakfast in town, you won’t regret it. Unless you have somewhere else to be, then I totally get it if you don’t want to - ”

“I would love to have breakfast with you, Dean,” you interrupt quickly. “Pancakes, I just love pancakes,” you blurt out, smiling shyly as his face breaks into a genuine smile and you find yourself laughing just a little bit more than before.

Mesmerized by his charming smile, you accept his offer and exchange numbers. He promises he’ll text you the address as soon as possible and will wait for you by the main entrance. It’s been a while since you set foot in the dating scene after any and all previous attempts turned out to be rather… disastrous. But Dean truly seems like a nice guy, so why not give it a shot?

You didn’t want to keep Nat waiting for too long anymore and if you would just hurry up a little more, you hoped you would still make it somewhat on time, casually late surely becoming your thing. The dinging of the elevator announced the sliding of doors and you called out to whoever was inside that they’d hold the door for you.

“Oh praise the lord,” you thanked the man who had been so kind to wait for you, but your cheerfulness quickly ebbed away when you saw who it was.

“Hi, Y/N,” his husky voice greeted you.

James.

James Barnes was standing in the elevator with you.

Fucking hell.

“H-Hi,” you stammered as your heart leapt out of your chest at the sight of him. His hair is longer and this length would probably make any other man look like a weirdo or a caveman but it does James all the more justice, making his appear so much more handsome and refined. He was wearing a light blue shirt, a dark blue blazer and a pair of blue trousers that snugly hugged the (not so) small bulge in his pants. He cleans up well, you thought to yourself as you drank him in a second time, very well.

I guess growing up looks different on everyone.

“What are you doing here, James?” I ask, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

Apparently he’s back on campus as professor T’Challa’s spokesperson, giving a couple guest lectures about the work they’ve been doing and harvesting a couple intrigued souls on the way. They need more people to engage in their project in order to make it a success but he’s very optimistic about the outcome and Nat was right, he’s really making a name for himself. It’s only ironic that’s the exact same reason he broke up with you in the first place.

“That does sound very exciting,” you acknowledge, “Although I always thought of Steve as the kind to stick around, not you.”

Steve has always been more of a scholar than James and you were sure he’d one day take up the title of professor, yet he followed after Sharon and moved as far away as possible, someplace with a minimum chance of ever running into you again.

You ran away, he ran away.

Great minds think alike.

James on the other hand seems to have followed in your footsteps. “Don’t get me wrong, but you just didn’t strike me as the academic type. I guess professor Barnes does have a nice ring to it,” you reply jokingly, letting out a light laugh.

I clearly remember a time where the only thing he could talk about was escaping this very campus. James used to be this adventurous spirit with wild hopes and big dreams and I can’t help but wonder what happened. Was I responsible for such a drastic change in character?

“Well,” he chuckles softly and you waver just the tiniest bit as his crystal blue eyes fix on yours, momentarily travelling down towards your lips before locking eyes with you once more.

How was he supposed to tell you this? How was he supposed to tell you that he did all of it for you? That he secretly hoped you’d one day return to the scene of the crime and pick up where professor Stark left off, that the path of science is the only path that could ever lead him back to you? He climbed up the food chain for you, not out of passion for science although he appreciates the opportunities he’s been given.

He did all of it just so he could see you again.

“I guess you could call it an epiphany. One day I woke up and decided I wanted to pave my way in the world of science. I’ve always loved science, just as much as you. Okay, maybe not as much as you, but you get the idea.”

There’s an awkward pause afterwards, his words settling in your bones with an unfamiliar weight. The elevator comes to a halt and the doors open not long after that, concluding your little trip down memory lane. Just as you’re about to part ways again, his fingers lace around your wrist and you freeze at the sudden contact, his touch scorching hot on your skin.

“Can I ask you one thing?,” he whispers shyly, morose blue eyes staring back at you.

“Sure,” you nod and he lets go of you, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “Why do you always insist on calling me James? Ever since we met, you’ve never, not even once, called me Bucky.”

You let out a deep sigh, the corners of your mouth turning downwards. Oh, how you wish you had been stronger. But you were young and quick to get into trouble, since trouble is all that boy means, just not fast enough to escape him.

“It’s because all your friends call you Bucky and I always wanted to be more than just your friend, James.”

Part 11: July

Tagging: the ever-wonderful @beccaanne814-blog @kiwi71281 @a-little-hell-to-raise @unpredictable-firecracker @marvelingatthewonder @emilyinwonderland3 @mrshopkirk @oopsmybagofplums @hardcorehippos @iiharu-kunii @knittingknerdy @winterwolf57 @dontbeamenacetotheforce @winterboobaer @shamvictoria11@thedragonblood @hymnofthevalkyries @feelmyroarrrr

[kidsviral-blog]

This Is What I Learned When I Tried Wearing Makeup For A Week

New Post has been published on https://kidsviral.info/this-is-what-i-learned-when-i-tried-wearing-makeup-for-a-week/

This Is What I Learned When I Tried Wearing Makeup For A Week

I rarely wear makeup, mostly because I don’t think I’m very good at applying it. So while my co-worker Erin went makeup-free for a week, I donned a face full of makeup.

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Jenny Chang for BuzzFeed

I have nothing against makeup, and I’m definitely not trying to make a statement by not wearing it. The reason I usually go makeup-free is mostly because I feel like I’m not good at doing it, and also because I love sleeping and would rather sleep for an extra 30 minutes in the morning than spend that time applying makeup.

For this week of wearing makeup, I wanted to go all out in the makeup department. The only problem was, I wasn’t really sure where to begin. So I decided to head to Sephora to get some ~stuff~.

I wandered the aisles looking totally lost, until, finally, my half-terrified, half-excited look prompted one of the makeup artists to approach me. After I explained to her what I was doing, she was super excited to help me, and ended up giving me a mini-makeover. Though I dropped way too much money, I also left with a look to try and emulate each morning.

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4. Here’s what I learned wearing makeup for a week:

5. Day 1: When I learned that people would notice something was different, but wouldn’t be able to figure out what it was.

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Maycie Thornton for BuzzFeed

For the first day, I decided to go big or go home, so I came to work sporting hot pink lipstick, several brown and gold eyeshadows, foundation, bronzer, black eyeliner, mascara, and highlighter… I even filled in my eyebrows! After putting on so many different layers of products, I sort of felt like I was wearing a mask, but figured at this point I had to try and own it.

When I finally worked up the courage to walk into the kitchen after hiding at my desk for the first hour, a few people came over and said something — that’s when I realized how different the reaction would be from guys and girls. Every girl seemed to notice I was wearing makeup, while every guy knew something was different, but couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

My male boss asked if I did something to my hair. Another male co-worker said I looked different, “in a good way,” but it was clear he had no clue what exactly had changed.

But female co-workers immediately commented on my lipstick, eyeliner, or just that I was wearing more makeup in general.

7. I felt the need to mention the experiment as an excuse for why I was wearing makeup.

I quickly realized that when people began to comment on my change in appearance, I would immediately tell them I was doing an experiment for work where I was wearing makeup.

Why couldn’t I just say “thank you” and own the fact that I wanted to put a little extra effort into my look that day? I’m allowed to spend time making myself look pretty, even if it is just to go to work. But for reasons I’m still not entirely sure of, I found myself still feeling a need to justify myself instead of just embracing it.

9. Day 2 (aka the day my phone would only take blurry selfies): When I learned how insanely hard it was going to be to not touch my face all day.

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Maycie Thornton for BuzzFeed

Ladies who wear makeup every day, I don’t know how you do it! Apparently I touch my face all the time, and wearing makeup really made me realize that. All I wanted to do after looking at a computer screen for a few hours was rub my eyes, and remembering I couldn’t because I would smear makeup all over my face was a form of torture.

11. Also, this is the night I learned that coconut oil is a truly amazing makeup remover!

12. Day 3: The day I realized I love sleeping in.

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Maycie Thornton for BuzzFeed

One of the main reasons I usually don’t wear makeup is because I have a love affair with sleeping. I feel totally fine about getting 10 hours of sleep on an average night, and sometimes on the weekends, I marathon sleep.

So having to wake up 30 minutes early was never fun for me.

This became painfully clear on Day 3, when I woke up and wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed. It took everything in me not to say “fuck it” and go back to bed. But I pushed through because I was doing this experiment and I had to. My sleepiness made it quite clear to me that a little extra beauty sleep is the main reason I end up makeup-free most days.

14. Day 3 was also the day I finally found the courage to actually post one of the millions of selfies I had taken…

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15. Day 4: When I learned that people get used to you looking a certain way, and they’ll notice any variance from that — whether it’s makeup or something else.

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BuzzFeedYellow / Via youtube.com

On Day 4, I decided that it was time to spice up my makeup-wearing experiment by also wearing my hair pulled back — something else I never do!

I did this because I figured it was the bravest I could get, forcing my full, made-up face to show without any hair to hide behind.

But ironically, my master plan failed, because on Day 4, no one noticed that I was wearing makeup; everyone just noticed that I had a new hairstyle.

17. Also, a lot of people had no idea I didn’t wear makeup in the first place.

One of my male co-workers who knew I was doing this experiment told me that before this week he didn’t realize I didn’t wear makeup, and if someone had asked him, he would have said I do. He said that now looking at me, he definitely sees a difference, but that neither one is better or worse, just different.

Later that day, while chatting with a female co-worker about what I was doing, she made a comment like, “Well, you usually wear some makeup, like mascara and stuff.” “No,” I corrected her, “I usually wear literally NOTHING. Not one ounce of anything.” My co-worker, who has seen my face five days a week for over a year, was in disbelief at the fact that I don’t wear makeup.

As Erin talked about in her post, I think this is because society has conditioned us to assume the people we see are all wearing makeup — it’s almost expected at this point. I think this is especially true for women who seem to put some extra effort into their appearance, like I do. While I might not wear makeup on a daily basis, I always do my hair and spend the extra time to make sure I feel confident and beautiful in the outfits I wear. People assume that ~those~ types of girls must always wear makeup.

19. Day 5: The day I realized wearing makeup makes me feel more confident, i.e., the day my boyfriend called me bossy.

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BuzzFeedYellow / Via youtube.com

“Whenever you put on makeup, you get sassy and bossy.”

That’s what my boyfriend told me as we were walking home from dinner on Day 5. I’m sassy by nature, but I think the bossiness and sassiness he was picking up on was actually my heightened confidence.

But this moment wasn’t the first hint that I was more confident in my appearance when I wore makeup. I work for BuzzFeedVideo, so from time to time, I appear in videos, and on that Monday, I was in a Jewish Taste Test video. In the past, my makeup-free face has appeared in a couple of thumbnail images, and I’ve been slightly mortified, but when my made-up face was used for the thumbnail, I was kind of excited about it. A co-worker even emailed me to tell me I looked “amazing,” and instead of getting awkward or trying to come up with some sort of excuse, I simply said, “Thank you!”

I’m still not totally sure how to feel about this. As someone who identities as a non-makeup-wearer, it feels somewhat defeating to admit that makeup might actually make me more confident. Does this mean if I start wearing makeup every day I will become a more confident person, or will the newfound confidence wear off after a few weeks or months? I really don’t know. I think it might not be the makeup, but just giving yourself a little extra time to make yourself feel good in any way — whether that’s putting on makeup, spending extra time doing your hair, getting your brows done, or even getting a massage or a manicure.

21. Day 6: When I realized that women’s reasons for wearing makeup and not wearing makeup are REALLY similar.

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Maycie Thornton for BuzzFeed

… And that the experiment I was doing was more similar to Erin’s than I had ever thought.

I was on the phone with my best friend Victoria talking about women who feel the need to wear makeup vs. women who don’t feel a need to wear makeup, when I had an epiphany.

I think women who don’t wear makeup have an easier time claiming that they are so confident and comfortable in their own skin that they don’t need to wear makeup, while women who always wear makeup can be regarded as insecure or vain.

But in reality, I think that not wearing makeup can be as much of a mask as wearing makeup.

I think a lot of women who don’t wear makeup do so because they don’t feel they are beautiful enough, or worth the time and money that makeup entails. In the same way that women who usually wear makeup feel insecure without it on, women who usually don’t wear makeup, like me, can feel insecure with it on.

Now, I’m a pretty confident gal, but I think my original need to justify wearing makeup for this week proves that I felt in some way insecure about being dolled up, in the same way Erin felt about not being dolled up.

Us makeup-free ladies have more in common with makeup-lovers than I ever would have guessed.

23. Day 7: When I learned that if you feel pretty, you are pretty — makeup or not.

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Maycie Thornton for BuzzFeed

While I’ll probably never be the type of girl who wears makeup on a daily basis, I did come out of this week feeling like makeup isn’t as horrible or irritating to wear as I initially assumed it to be — makeup can be a fun way to express yourself and accentuate your attributes.

But I still feel like my makeup-free face is pretty darn cute. I don’t think I necessarily need to spend a bunch of time and money trying to make something I already like look different, especially when I’m just going to work or to see people who I already feel comfortable and confident around.

Just like anything else, getting dolled up takes some getting used to, and while I don’t see myself showing up to work wearing bright pink lipstick again anytime soon, I do think this experience has opened my eyes to the world of makeup, and I think I’m now more open to wearing some subtle makeup from time to time. Also, if I ever do have the urge to give that hot pink lipstick another go, I’ll know that the world definitely won’t end, and I might even look kind of cute!

25. Here’s my before-and-after.

Maycie Thornton for BuzzFeed

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Jenny Chang for BuzzFeed

27.

This Is What I Learned Going Makeup-Free For A Week

buzzfeed.com

Read more: http://www.buzzfeed.com/maycie/what-i-learned-when-i-started-wearing-makeup-for-a-week?b=1&loreal_feed=1&loreal_username=beauty

#beauty #cosmetics #experiment #Eyeliner #foundation #I dont wear makeup #make-up #makeup free #mascara #maycie thornton #no makeup #wearing makeup #what i learned #what is beauty