#the mirror for my makeup Shattered on thursday

[raceweek]

a shadow of the woman i was at the start of the weekend reporting to you live on race day (the f3 car is a paid actor)

[hippolotamus]

Thirsty Fuck it Friday 🪩

Tagged by @tizniz for Thirsty Thursday and @daffi-990 for Fuck it Friday. And let me just say... go read their snippets if you haven't because 🔥🔥🔥

okay! so, two tag days, two snippets... right? a little Buddie here, a little Lutalia there. bon appetit!

from debatably (i use that so loosely lmao) sfw watch my shattered edges glisten:

Whatever Eddie thought he was going to see tonight– this was not it. He was prepared for flowing, graceful, and ethereal. For simultaneously muted and vibrant blending together in what could almost be described as an erotic ballet.   This, however– it’s loud and bold. Like being thrust into the daylight after years of darkness, or an endless storm, sending the shadows scattering.  Arsen steps out to music that begins with roughly ten seconds of synthesized horns before melting into an intense beat. He’s forgone his usual long sleeved mesh tee, wearing only a black chest harness on top. Even that’s slightly different, using a shiny patent leather instead of a matte finish. It hugs his muscles perfectly, with horizontal straps encasing his pecs and a singular vertical strap down the middle that disappears under matching booty shorts that showcase his thick thighs. Normally, Arsen seems to tease at whatever’s hiding beneath his clothes. Just enough of an outline to make Eddie wonder. Tonight there is no hinting. There’s an obvious bulge under the skin tight attire, further highlighted by the way he drags his palms up his quads and deliberately frames it with his fingers. Like he’s showing off. Strutting around like a peacock looking to prove he’s the best mate.

Buck’s music 😏

And some definitely nsfw untitled Lutalia (they are strangers at this point and Lucy hasn't given up her name):

Her right hand slips over Nat’s abdomen, past the hem of her dress until she’s grazing Nat’s inner thigh. A torturous barely there touch that sets her alight. Fuck.  How did she let herself go so long without this? How did she get so lost in the business of people dying that she denied herself the chance to live? Nat lets out a breathy whine, already just this side of desperate.  The woman nibbles her ear, chuckling darkly. “Impatient, are we?”  “Y-yeah. Yes.” Corset moans, somehow holding Nat closer. “Goddamn, what a fucking dream you are. Bet you’re all wet for me, too, aren’t you?” Nat knows she is, can feel the slickness between her legs. All she’s able to manage is a nod in response.  Corset hums appreciatively, tracing an invisible path up, up, up.  The prospect of relief is so near, Nat buzzes with excitement, eagerly anticipating the moment she’ll finally be touched the way she wants. Short nails scrape along her skin, toying with the seam of her underwear. She’s never been more grateful for being low on clean laundry and being forced to choose a thong tonight.  Except Corset pulls away then and Nat whines. A high pitched undignified thing that should leave her drowning in shame if she wasn’t so turned on.  “Don’t you worry. You’re getting what’s coming to you. Just gonna make a few adjustments first.” Corset deftly unzips the back of Nat’s dress, allowing the front to drop, exposing her breasts. Sleek leather and ribbon presses into her spine while Corset grins salaciously, rolling each nipple between her fingers. Corset’s other hand brushes over her swollen, sensitive clit through damp lacy fabric.  Nat meets her eyes in the mirror, pleading for more.  “Christ, just look at yourself, baby. Look how beautiful you are for me.” Nat does and fuck. She looks as debauched as she feels. Tits out and makeup smeared, letting a complete stranger be in control of her pleasure.

np tagging @stereopticons @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @disasterbuckdiaz @actuallyitsellie @apothecarose @barbiediaz @buddierights @chaosandwolves @diazsdimples @elvensorceress @epicbuddieficrecs @eowon @fortheloveofbuddie @gayedmundodiaz @giddyupbuck @say-bi-for-me @honestlydarkprincess @hoodie-buck @indestructibleheart @jesuisici33 @thekristen999 @ladydorian05 @lemonzestywrites @lizzie-bennetdarcy @loserdiaz @loveyouanyway @monsterrae1 @rmd-writes @spaceprincessem @spotsandsocks @statueinthestone @steadfastsaturnsrings @the-likesofus @theotherbuckley @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @thewolvesof1998 @vanillahigh00 @watchyourbuck @weewootruck @welcometololaland @wikiangela @wildlife4life @your-catfish-friend @maygrantgf and anyone else who wants to 😘

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Quarantine Lovers (Part 3) | Charlie Gillespie

A/N: Happy Halloween, you guys! I hope you’ve had an amazing day so far, whether you go all out for the holiday or not! Hope you enjoy this little imagine-fic-thing of celebrating Halloween in quarantine with Charlie :) Love you guys! xxx

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Warnings: fluff

Words: 2, 827

Happy Halloween, Witches

Ah, 2020. The year that canceled everything thus far. No traveling, no real summer. You couldn’t even get back to work and neither could Charlie. You had spent your time writing up ideas for new shows and pitching some ideas over Zoom to the rest of the Outer Banks writing team. It sucked. Mostly because you couldn’t see any family or friends in real life. And now that October has come around, it seems nothing has changed much. In fact, it’s gotten even worse. 

There was a second lockdown looming and you could just about see  your perfect Halloween night shattering right before your eyes. Sure, you were just planning on inviting some friends over and watching horror movies, eating pizza and snacks, but it still sucked that wouldn’t happen now after all. 

Charlie had noticed on Monday how bummed you were when you realized things were getting worse. He knew how much you loved the holiday and how excited you were to see friends and spend some time with them. So, he set his plan in motion. 

On Saturday morning, you wake up to a cold, empty bed and the sound of clanging pans and cutlery coming from the kitchen. Confused, and still a little sleep-drunk, you get out of bed and slip on Charlie’s sweater to keep you at least a little warm since you were just wearing a shirt of his. (You’d almost think you don’t ever wear your own clothes anymore). From the little corridor that connects the bedrooms to the living and kitchen area, you can already spot him at the stove. Curious and a little endeared that he’d be cooking this early in the morning, you make your way towards him, only to be surprised by the living room being coated in full Halloween gear. Spiders in spider webs everywhere, pumpkins, skeletons, ghosts in every nook and cranny. 

“Char… Wha--?” he turns to you, eyes widening first before his smile appears instead. 

“Get back to bed, I was gonna wake you up with a song.” You walk over to him, peeking over his shoulder to what he’s making. Pumpkin pancakes. He’s actually making pancakes in the form of little pumpkins. Could he be any cuter? 

“You’ve missed your true calling, baby,” you tell him and kiss his bare shoulder. A light chuckle arises from his body, making his shoulders shake slightly. You then turn around to eye the feast he had already spread out on the table. 

Everything is in theme. Halloween doughnuts, a giant fake pumpkin with fruit seeping out of its mouth. You assume he just went on Pinterest to inspire him and then, when walking down the aisles in the shops, just grabbed everything that seemed even slightly Halloweeny. “Can I help you with anything?” you ask, looking around for a job to do. Charlie turns around to place the plate with a pile of pumpkin pancakes on the table, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back as he leaned past  you. 

“No, I got it covered,” he presses a kiss to your hair before turning to go to the fridge. “Sit down, baby.” Slightly disgruntled, you sigh and sit down on the chair closest to you. 

“Why are we doing this, Gillespie? Got something to make up for?” you ask teasingly after taking another glance at the breakfast spread in front of you. 

“Can’t I just surprise my girlfriend with the breakfast of dreams?” He asks and places a hand on the back of your neck while leaning forward to pour some orange juice into a glass. His fingers softly scratch your scalp, and you can’t help but lean into his touch. “Besides, I noticed how bummed you were about our plans with our friends falling apart, so I came up with a plan to make it the best Halloween I could, despite being stuck inside with me.” You nearly melt at this idea of his. He did all of this. For you. Just because you were bummed about cancelled plans. How did you ever earn a beautiful, good soul like him? 

“I would’ve enjoyed just watching movies tonight with you, too, you goof,” you say, which sends a smile right up to his lips. “But thank you.” He leans down to press his lips on yours quickly before turning to grab a few more things and then joining you at the table. 

“So, I have an entire day of fun things planned for us,” he starts when you take your first bite of pumpkin pancake, a delightful moan escaping  your lips at the amazing taste tingling your taste buds. Charlie shoots you an amused look with risen eyebrows and a smirk. 

“These are good!” you exclaim, “But go on, what are the fun things you planned?” Charlie is seemingly brought back into reality by that question as he slightly shakes his head and blinks his eyes a few times quickly. 

“So, remember when you kinda joked we should go as each other for Halloween?” You nod your head slowly, that was something you did suggest as a Halloween costume last month when you were planning the whole night. All your friends would’ve come dressed up. It was mandatory to do so on Halloween, you thought. “I think we should do it. We should dress as each other and then we’re going to the shops to get us some tools and pumpkins…” Your eyes widen at this, already know what the rest of his plan is. 

“We’re gonna carve pumpkins?!” you nearly scream. This makes him laugh, shaking his head at how freaking adorable you are with your little bounds of excitement. It’s the same way he gets excited about the things he’s passionate about. 

“Yes, we are! And then we’re gonna bake some Halloween cookies, order pizza and watch movies all night long!” You shriek with exhilaration, and get up to run around the table towards your boyfriend, attacking him with your lips on his. He chuckles against your lips, pulling you down to his lap. You deepen the kiss while your hands tangle up in his hair. This makes him stop giggling as he melts right into you, his hands roaming from your waist down your thigh and back up. 

“You are the greatest boyfriend, you know that?” you tell him when you pull back, resting your forehead against his and staring in his eyes. He pecks your lips once more before leaning over to grab a piece of fruit and feeding it to you. 

“You deserve it, baby,” he tells you with a shrug whilst you grab another piece of fruit and hold it out to him to eat. “We both love Halloween, so it seemed a little lame to just watch movies together,  you know? That’s a regular Thursday in this household.” You giggle at that. He’s not wrong. During lockdown, you’ve watched so many movies, you’ve lost count. 

“I love you,” you whisper and kiss him again. The taste of strawberry still faintly on his lips. 

“I love you too, like so much.” He plants another kiss on your lips before you both turn back to your breakfast, but staying where you are; on his lap. You feed each other fruit and pancakes and doughnuts whilst chatting about how excited you were about the entire day. 

After breakfast, he let you get dressed first whilst he cleaned up the kitchen. You’d suggested to help, but he insisted on you getting dressed and ready instead. So, you do. You shower, dry your hair and curl it, then put on very minimal makeup, just to hide those bags and blemishes. As an outfit, you picked out some dungarees (because, let’s be honest, Charlie looked cutest in his dungarees), steal his Sunset Curve Summer Tour ‘95 shirt to go underneath it and your white Adidas on your feet. You also steal one of his snapbacks since his lockdown-hair has needed some support to keep it out of his eyes. 

Once ready, you check yourself in the full-length mirror, then nod, satisfied with the ensemble. You can’t wait to see Charlie’s reaction to this costume of yours or what he has planned for his costume. 

“Cover your eyes!” you yell into the direction of the living room. 

“Covered!” he yells back, and you make your way cautiously into the living room where you find Charlie on the couch with his phone in his lap and his hands over his eyes. He looks like an actual toddler like this. It’s the most endearing thing you’d ever seen, so you quickly snap a picture before stepping in front of him. 

“Okay, open.” He slowly takes his hands away from his eyes, and lets them wander over your entire body. His lips part as some excess air needs to leave his lungs from that breath-taking view in front of him. “You like it?” you ask, twirling around, so he can see the entire thing. He quickly places his phone on the couch and stands up, placing his hands on your waist. 

“You look better in this outfit than I ever would, Gorgeous,” he mumbles before leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “You make me crazy, Y/L/N.” You comb your fingers through the front of his hair, making his gorgeous eyes more visible to you. 

“Ditto, Gillespie,” you whisper and kiss him once again. “Now, you get dressed. I’m curious to see what you come up with.” After having kissed your nose quickly, he dashes past you and into the bedroom, leaving you all by yourself. It takes him about fifteen minutes before his voice chimes through the apartment. 

“I’m ready! Close your eyes!” You place your hands over your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips in excitement. “Okay, open.” His voice sounds closer, a little teasing, even. You slowly remove your hands, your eyes widening and your mouth dropping at the sight in front of you. He’s wearing a loose, black boiler suit, complete with red-and-white belt, exactly how you’d wear it. On his feet, he’s wearing Dr. Martin’s ankle boots. 

“This is the best thing I ever did see!” you exclaim excitedly as he makes a little twirl. “We need to take a photo!” You grab your phone from the pocket of your dungarees and get it set up on a self-timer and so that it takes multiple pictures in one take before placing it on the tv stand. Once you press the button, you hurry to Charlie, who has his arms open. 

“Jump!” he says, and you quickly do so, wrapping  your legs around his waist at the same moment your phone starts taking the pictures. For the next few, you keep your feet on the floor, leaning against your boyfriend. The first ones, you’re looking at the camera, but Charlie’s looking at you. Then you’re looking at him but he’s not. And on the last one, you’re staring in each other’s eyes with wide smiles on your faces. For the last group of shots, you squat down and cross your arms, Charlie following your example. In the second shot, you both hold your hand up in a rock sign, sticking out your tongues. The last one of that group of pictures is of both of you falling on your butts due to the lack of balance. 

“Those last ones are hilarious,” he says, pointing at the ones where you’re both on your ass, throwing your head back with laughter. “Let’s go get our pumpkins now first!” 

Back home with the two biggest pumpkins you could find, -- there weren’t very many left -- the two of you start by covering the floor with an old sheet before getting your new utensils out and starting the carving process. While you’re spooning out pumpkin seeds, there’s music playing in the background, and the two of you are talking about what you’re about to do to the pumpkins. Charlie’s going to go for a Pennywise face whilst you’re cutting out three ghosts. He couldn’t help but smile at that idea of yours. You really were the cutest when you’re in your element about this holiday. 

“I think I’m done,” you say, leaning back to take a last look at the entire finished product. Charlie rests his head on your shoulder, peeking over to see your piece of art. “The guitars were really hard to do.” You point to Ghost Reggie’s bass and Ghost Luke’s guitar. “But the drumsticks were easy.” Charlie chuckles and plants a kiss underneath your ear, tasting a bit of pumpkin. This makes him scrunch his nose in disgust. Raw pumpkin does not taste that great.

“How in the holy hell did you get a little pumpkin behind your ear?” he asks and takes his finger to wipe any residue away. 

“I’ve got no clue,” you say and turn your head to face him, only to find a pumpkin seed stuck in his long hair. A laugh erupts from your body, shaking you from head to toe. “You’ve got some in your hair.” He tries to pluck it out, but keeps missing, so you help him out instead. “I shouldn’t have showered this morning,” you laugh, shaking your head at your own stupid desicion. Charlie laughs too before getting up with his pumpkin in hands. 

“Let’s put them on the kitchen island,” he suggests and makes his way there. “I’ll grab some tealights.” While he does that, you get up too and place  your Julie and The Phantoms one next to his Pennywise one. They don’t look too bad in your opinion. 

Charlie returns with two little tealights and places one in each pumpkin whilst you grab the matches, but Charlie stops you before you can light them. “It’s still light out, babe. That’s not gonna have much effect,” he chuckles. “We’ll light them later. Let’s bake now!” You nod your head vigorously and skip into the kitchen. 

That afternoon is spent baking cookies and cupcakes, and ends in a food fight with flour everywhere. To say this is the best Halloween you ever had would be the biggest understatement of the year. Even though it’s not exactly how you planned it, it’s still the most perfect day ever, thanks to Charlie. And that’s not even all he’d planned. 

By nightfall, the two of you had lit your pumpkins, placed the treats on the coffee table and had a movie ready to play on the tv when Charlie’s phone started to ring. A little confused and disgruntled about the interruption, you peer over his shoulder to see who’s calling him. Owen Joyner wants to facetime Julie and the Phantoms

Charlie glances at you with a smirk on his face before picking up the phone. The blonde guy you’ve come to love appears on the small screen, along with Jeremy and Carolynn, and Madison.

“Hey guys!” Charlie greets excited while you offer an excited wave. 

“Happy Halloween, Witches!” Owen yells. That’s when  you realize they, too, are dressed up. Owen has fake blood run from his lip and has a black cape draped over his shoulders. Carolynn and Jeremy are dressed as angel and devil whilst Madison is a witch. 

“What are you dressed as?” Owen asks, peering at his screen to try and figure it out. 

“Each other!” you reply, which sends all of them into a fit of laughter. 

“That’s very original!” Carolynn compliments. “You rock those dungarees, Y/N!”

“Thanks, angel,” you retort, a little flustered at the compliment. 

The FaceTime call lasts for about an hour and a half until Charlie decides to call it quits and start watching movies instead. You bid your goodbyes to your friends before cuddling up to Charlie as he puts his phone away. 

“This has really been the greatest Halloween, Char. Thank you,” you whisper and lean up to meet his lips for a sweet, long kiss. 

“Anything for you, Gorgeous.” You lie down on his chest again, getting kissed on the head as  you do so. You can’t help but sigh happily. Charlie really went all out with the surprises. From the breakfast spread to carving pumpkins and baking Halloween cookies to the surprise phone call from the guys and even the costume. 

That night, you post a bunch of pictures to Instagram. The first is one of the posed one of your outfits, then follows the one of Charlie covering his eyes on the sofa, your carved pumpkins and the one picture where you’ve both fallen on your ass after losing balance. 

“Wanna thank this little goofball for going all out on my favorite day of the year. Guess I should be more bummed about little things from now on if it means getting pumpkin pancakes, dressing up as each other and all the other amazing surprises. Thank you, baby. You really are the greatest of all time. @charles_gillespie 💗 Happy Halloween, Witches! 🎃”

Taglist: @hannahhistorian92​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @thequirkybookaholic​ @bookdealer5​ @tenaciousperfectionunknown​ @hemmingsness​ @iainttakingshitfromnobody​ @ifilwtmfc​ @angryknightstatesmantrash​ @kiss-themoongoodbye​ @rudysbay​ @thedarkqueenofavalon​​ @caitsymichelle13​​ @calamitykaty​  @parkeret​​ @lukeys-giggle​ @gingerxarmy​ @lovesanimals​ @lolychu​ @perfectlywrongformend3s​ @luckylouiebug​ @camiladelrio98​ @myfriendscallmebeans​

[hazzastylesfanfics]

Part 1/?

i’m back bitches

the maddness & boredom of this pandemic have finally hit so naturally i sat down to write for the first time in seven years .....

tell me if it’s shit/if i should continue !!

k thanks love u all <3

239 days. 239 days since him.

1 day. 1 day since him.

Some days I wonder if fate is real. I wonder if there really is a so-called “god” up there. Maybe there really is a divine power running my life, or maybe it’s all just one big shit show I’m struggling to keep together.

It’s 2 a.m. and I’m still pointlessly scrolling through Instagram looking at the same posts I’ve seen already. I open my profile and scroll through. Pictures of me posing with my friends, at wineries, and drunk nights out fill my feed. There’s no mention of him. I finally brought myself to delete them a few months back. I lock my phone and close my eyes. Sleep soon overtakes me.

The morning arrives far too early for my liking. Charlie is biting my hair, demanding her breakfast. I grab my phone to check the time: 5 a.m. I groan and pull the covers over my head hoping she’ll leave me alone. I just about fall back asleep when I hear a crash.

“Charlie, seriously?!” I sit up to see she’s shoved a candle off of my windowsill onto the ground and shattered it. “I swear to god, I’m gonna release you back into the wild,” I grumble.

She meows at me frantically until I give in and feed her. The thing they don’t tell you about getting a kitten is the fact you no longer run your life, the little spawn from hell does. She’s lucky she’s cute. I quickly sweep up the remains of my candle and fall back into bed.

Two hours later my alarm clock rudely awakens me for work. I feel like I’ve barely slept and one glance in the mirror confirms that feeling. A quick shower wakes me up just enough to drag my ass out the door.

I see my bus pulling away from my stop and frantically run toward it, shouting at the driver to stop. Maybe because it’s pouring rain or maybe because I look so distraught, but the driver takes pity on me and lets me hop on. I thank her as I sit in the nearest open seat. I’ve already been late to work three times in the past month and I can’t let Lana cover for me again.

The bus ride is a short one to the little coffee shop I’ve called work for over a year. It’s locally owned and loved by hipsters all around. I still wonder how I managed to get the job since I barely fit the bill of the “alternative” type that work alongside me. Lana was my first friend there. If you searched “Portland native” online, a picture of her would pop up. She’s adorable and dainty, covered in random tattoos she gets when she’s bored. She just dyed her hair blonde and cut her own blunt bangs. Her nose is decorated with a ring that she drunkenly tried to pierce herself, but I convinced her otherwise. She wears whatever the hell she feels like and exudes confidence in it all. She has the type of personality that draws you in but keeps you just enough at a distance to shroud her in mystery. I love the girl as much as I envy her.

We arrive at my stop and I thank the driver as I exit the bus. It’s still pouring so I run the two blocks to get to work. I see Lana happily chatting to a customer as I walk through the front door to the back room.

“Morning, Grey!” She chirps at me.

I drop my bag where there’s space and wash my hands before heading back out front.

“Jesus, girl, you look like hell,” Lana says as she thrusts a double espresso into my hands. “Rough night?”

“I was stuck with my own thoughts again.” I take a sip. It tastes more bitter than usual. “Also, Charlie decided my candle was much better in multiple pieces on the floor at 5 a.m.”

She laughs. “You still feel good about taking a stray in?”

“She was lonely and needed a home, okay?”

“Sucker,” Lana mumbles before turning her attention to the customer walking up to the front counter.

Thursday mornings always pass by fairly quickly. Customers are buzzing about Friday fast approaching, so most are in a pleasant mood. No amount of espresso can wake me up though. Some days I prefer zoning out and making drinks, especially days like this. Interactions with customers take it out of me. I don’t know how Lana does it so well.

“Erm, yeah, I’ll take a small black coffee, please.”

His voice instantly takes me out of my daydreams. That smooth, slow voice. I glance over at the register to see Lana helping the same guy that had captivated me two days earlier. Those chocolate brown curls look even softer than when I saw him in the bookstore. How the hell was that even possible? I stare for so long the milk I am steaming overflows onto my hand, burning me and eliciting a yelp. Lana and this beautiful man both turn their attention toward me. I laugh it off nervously and mumble something about being clumsy. Lana turns her attention back to the man, but he doesn’t break his gaze from me. He holds eye contact for another brief moment before thanking Lana for his coffee and dropping money into the tip jar. I am frozen in place, well aware that I need to stop staring like a fool.

I often visited Powell’s on my days off. It wasn’t hard to spend hours upon hours among the books, exploring each floor of the store. I rarely bought anything; I mostly came for the experience. I loved the smell of a new book. A thrill always came with picking up a random one and delving into what it had to offer between its two covers.

I was doing just that in the World Religions section when I heard his voice.

“Excuse me.”

My eyes snapped up from the current title intriguing me. There he was, clearly trying to get by me. I had absentmindedly parked myself in the middle of the aisle making it impossible for anyone to pass me. My ears grew hot as I mumbled an apology and took a step back.

He laughed lightly and glanced at the book in my hands. “Buddhism, huh? Let me know when you figure out the secret to enlightenment.” He chuckled again.

This is when I really got a good look at him. He was tall with lanky arms and legs to match, and a torso that looked like it never ended. He was wearing a tight black T-shirt that revealed many, many tattoos decorating his arms. My eyes instantly locked in on an anchor inked on the top of his left wrist. My exploration led me down to his hands, adorned with multiple rings. Finally, I brought my eyes up to his face. My god, did it take my breath away. His jaw was sharp and covered in stubble. His brunette curls sat atop his head in an impossibly perfect way. His smile though. I nearly dropped my book. If I believed in angels, they would have been singing at that moment.

I made a weak attempt at laughing and stumbled over my words, but nothing that resembled English came out of my mouth.

He flashed an even brighter smile and said, “Let me know if you need any recommendations.” And just like that, he turned the corner and disappeared. I didn’t realize I had been holding my breath until my chest started to hurt from the lack of air to my lungs. I bought the book in my hands and hurried out of the store.

He consumed my thoughts well into the night.

Now, as if a gift from the heavens above, this god is standing in my workplace. I suddenly become very aware of my lack of makeup and haphazard bun.

He catches my eyes once more before turning away from the register and walking out the front door. He was gone. I just let this act of god walk out the door and I would never see him again.

“Um, earth to Grey?” Lana playfully pokes me in the ribs.

“Huh, what? Shit.”

“You need me to finish up that cappuccino there?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” I robotically step back from the espresso machine and let her take over. She finishes the drink in less than a minute and apologizes to the visibly impatient customer as she hands it over the bar.

Lana turns to me. “Okay, what the hell was that?”

I stand with my mouth hanging open, still trying to grasp the past five minutes. “Well, long story short I think I royally fucked up letting that guy walk out the door.”

“You’re telling me, babe, he was gorgeous. Do you know him?” I detect a hint of jealously in her voice.

“No, uh, not really. We had a short interaction at Powell’s a couple of days ago but it was nothing. I made a fool out of myself more than anything.”

“And how do you think you did this time around?” Her laugh rings in my ears.

“Okay, in my defense he ambushed me at my workplace so that is not my fault!” I huff. “You weren’t much help either,” I point out.

“What was I supposed to do?” She is still laughing.

“I don’t know,” I mumble. “He was staring too though, right? That wasn’t my own delusion?”

“Oh yeah, babe he was staring alright. He looked like he wanted to take you right then and there on the counter.”

I bite my lip. That didn’t sound like half a bad idea. My ears grow hot at the thought.

I feel a gentle pinch on my arm and flinch away. “Hello! Grey! Hate to interrupt your fantasy but we have customers.” I glance over her shoulder to see a small line has built up.

Three o’clock finally rolls around and I’m free. Lana had gotten off an hour earlier than me, but couldn’t stay to talk more. My thoughts are too preoccupied with that handsome stranger to be much company anyway. The manic side of me wants to walk straight to Powell’s in hopes he would be there. I get ahold of myself however and make my way back to my apartment.

Charlie greets me with vigor the second I walk through the door. She seems to have gotten this idea that whenever I come home means dinnertime for her. When I don’t give in, she destroys shit. Exhibit A: this morning. It’s not like she’s starving. My neighbor had discovered this little kitty outside of the apartment complex one morning while taking her dog for a walk. The landlord only allows one animal per apartment, so she couldn’t keep her. At the time, Charlie practically sprouted angel wings and a halo so I couldn’t say no. A week into having her revealed her true nature: demon. She’s into everything all. of. the. time. She frequently digs the dirt out of my houseplants and eats it. Her favorite game is launching herself onto the screens in my windows to attack bugs. She even tries to shower with me. Despite her faults though, I can’t help but love her. Living by myself can be lonely. I find myself trying to have full conversations with her sometimes shortly before questioning my sanity.

I change into an oversized band tee and settle onto the brown leather sofa in my living room. Charlie jumps up beside me, purring loudly. I pull the yellow blanket neatly folded next to me onto my lap and try to shut my brain off. The rest of my shift exhausted me and thinking about that guy did not help much. I have to accept the fact that fate was really doing me a solid and in return, I gave it the finger. This beautiful stranger entered my life twice in 48 hours and I didn’t do a damn thing about it. Charlie climbs into my lap and curls into a ball, content.

I wake up hours later to a dark apartment. One glance at my phone reveals I dozed off longer than I intended to. Miraculously, Charlie let me sleep through her dinner. The moment she notices I am awake, she starts yowling at me for dinner. I oblige with a small scoop of food in her bowl. I then venture to the fridge and heat up leftover pasta for my meal. I sit at the small table in my narrow kitchen and stare out the window. My view isn’t much - just a look onto my neighbors’ balconies who also live in this complex. I make a mental note that the plants on the windowsill need water. I rinse out my bowl and leave it in the sink, not bothered to do the dishes tonight. I’m exhausted and welcome the softness of my bed.

I open the next morning and it feels like actual hell when my alarm goes off at 4:30. Charlie loves days I’m up this early though, she gets an early breakfast. I don’t bother to change out of the band tee I slept in and pull on a pair of ripped denim shorts. True to Oregon’s style, today is supposed to be a direct contrast of the previous day: blue skies and sunny. Summers in Portland never fail to keep me on my toes. I quickly fix my hair into messy French braid pigtails on either side of my head and throw on a coat of mascara for good measure.

I never have an issue with opening during the summer. The sun has risen enough that there is a soft morning light to guide me on my walk to the bus stop. Winters freak out because it’s pitch black and weird people ride the bus this early in the morning.

The shop is dark when I arrive. I turn my key in the lock, step in, and lock it behind me. The one time I forgot to do this, a homeless person wandered in and refused to leave. He didn’t want anything, just continued to have a conversation with himself. I always make sure to double-check the door now. I turn on the lights and flip on the espresso machine. I set up the freshly baked pastries in the front case in an attractive manner. Just as I open the register to count the till I hear a tap on the front door. I don’t look up. It’s either a customer trying to come in early or another homeless person. I quietly count each bill out loud, enter the opening total, and tap “open” on the screen. Again, I hear a knock on the door. I look up in irritation. Whoever thinks they need their coffee this early in the morning can wait another 15 minutes until I formally open the doors.

Fuck.

Shit.

Fuck.

It’s him.

[averagescribbles]

when we see the sun again ~ part i

pairing ~ Winter Soldier!Bucky x OFC

summary ~ Anastasia Kolensky has lived in a perpetual cycle of training, dancing, and going on missions for as long as she can remember. When a new group appears in their complex, she and the girls of the Red Room have to decide what to make of the “Winter Soldiers”.

warnings ~ mentions of violence, seduction, slow burn, this has a ridiculous amount of exposition, please bear with me

a/n ~ This won’t really follow MCU cannon because it was written before The Black Widow movie came out, this will be a mix of what hints of knowledge I have and some aspects from the comics, this will be a pretty dark version of the Red Room, I don’t know why the paragraph spacing is weird it’s making my OCD crazy, I promise I’ll fix it when I figure it out haha

————————

Anastasia was a dancer. It was visible in the picturesque line her body made standing idle, the way she seemed to float above the ground with every step, the quick steps of her feet between her opponents’.

The Red Room didn’t need to train her to be attractive. She was a natural enigma that drew the attention of any man that caught sight of her into curious infatuation. Maybe it was the way she held herself, with perfect posture but shy enough to keep her eyes cast down, her cheeks flushing pink when they complimented her. Maybe it her slender body that hid years of training and muscles gained from ballet which piqued their interest. Perhaps it was the peculiar galaxy held within her eyes, green and brown and blue and gray framed by long strands of her thick dark hair.

The other girls envied her; she never needed to spread her legs to get men to spill their little secrets. Just the thought of getting to hold her or press their lips to hers drove men to do the strangest things, their judgement clouded by herr. 

She could hold a gun to a man’s head and instead of struggling to escape, he would just stand mesmerized, wondering how something so beautiful could have led him to his last breath. She would give an apologetic smile, the gun would make a familiar click, and he would see his life flash through his eyes in the green and blue and brown and gray of hers.

She would wipe the blood of her hands, staining herself red with only one thought. Let him be the last one.

What she wouldn’t give to go back, back before she woke up in a cold white room with only one code that’s existed as a constant heartbeat in her mind since then, 211908, 211908, 211908. Back to a time she didn’t have a fragment of a memory of. What she wouldn’t do to save her fallen sisters that stained the room a sickening shade of scarlet.

But every mission she’d return, report back with enough intelligence to complete her weekend. The Headmistress, beaming with pride at her success, would hand her a pair of handcuffs and opened the door to a room full of beds. Anastasia finished early, she earned her twelve hours of rest.

Her exhaustion would overcome her and she would collapse into her bed, barely able to click the handcuffs against her wrist.

The girls’ schedules were intense. On Mondays through Thursdays, they worked on their individual missions from 8pm to 3pm, and they come back to the ballet for two shows from 5pm to 9pm. Every Thursday morning, they received new teams for the weekend after scrimmaging before they leave to wrap up their own missions. They move into shifts at midnight that night. Twelve hours of gathering intelligence, practicing combat, working on team missions, training in dance, and finally, twelve hours of blessed sleep.

It wasn’t as horrible as it sounded. The cycle was a comforting pattern for Anastasia, keeping busy that often helped distract her from the fact that the beds in the room had decreased in number throughout the years. Any moment her mind wasn’t occupied, images of limp limbs and red blood were forced into her vision again. Twelve hours of sleep was enough to keep her strong for the weekend, and it was short enough to prevent her from laying awake at night, unable to free herself from the clutches of her mind or the handcuffs that kept her physically tied to her bed.

“Anya.”

A whisper turned her attention to the bed beside her, where Vlada was laying awake.

“Hmm?”

“You’re awake, I know,” Vlada said, softly chuckling. “Your breath may be even, but that only fools Headmistress Countonya, not me.”

“I know,” Anastasia whispered back, smiling. Vlada was the best trained in the Red Room. Ever since the beginning, she had always been ranked first. Not only was she a combat mastermind, but she had complete control of her feminine wiles and could easily tell people’s thoughts just by watching them for a few moments, something that has kept Anastasia always in close second with her.

“You are thinking about something. Did that German man put up a fight? Or,” her eyes widened dramatically, “did he put his hands up your skirt?”

“That’s not really funny,” Anastasia said. “If he had, and he did not, Countonya would kill me.”

“They’re probably saving you for some big important man,” Vlada said. “A government official, perhaps? Or maybe you will become the wife of some American spy and send back intel in stereotypical Christmas cards with two happy children and a white picket fence in every picture.”

Anya shook her head, unable to hold back some amusement at her dear friend’s wild propositions. “I don’t have a clue what they want to do with me. I’m guessing your man wanted you in bed?”

“It was either me or Nikolina. I could tell he was a rough man with no boundaries. After she lost her rank to Helena on Thursday, she needed a break.”

Vlada shrugged it off, but the dark reality of not having control of their own bodies was too familiar to all of the girls in the Red Room. If told, they would immediately destroy their feet for dance, overexert themselves during missions, spread their legs to any man, and even kill each other. Actions once considered horrible were not foreign to them anymore.

They lay in silence for a few moments, listening to the comforting breath of the other eighteen girls fast asleep in the room. There was nothing unusual, they were just short thirty girls that had trained alongside them but disappeared slowly over the years. 

Anastasia turned to look at Vlada and knew the same question haunted her each night.

“Where did the others go?”

———

Sunlight spilling into the room from the small gaps in the curtain woke the girls up. A jingle of keys approaching in the hallway was followed by the cream of the door opening.

“Good morning, girls,” Headmistress Countonya said, beginning to unlock each one from their beds.

“Good morning,” replied an chorus of voices. Some girls were sitting up in bed and stretching, others buried their faces back into their pillows.

“It’s an important day today,” Countonya said, finally freeing Anastasia from her handcuffs. “For the first time, another group of exceptional soldiers is joining us. You will not be working on your missions today. They’re arriving today, and I believe it will be courteous to let them meet all of you.”

This shattered the foggy morning haze in the room. Anyone outside of the Red Room was kept at least an arm’s length away. They only knew each other for support, and there was no saying what bringing a new group of people into their world would entail. Their fifty girls had already been shaved down to twenty. Would the addition of more people result in the loss of more of their own girls?

Nervous thoughts were scattered through the room as the girls piled on their clothes. On went lacy underclothes, mostly out of habit for most of the girls. Out came black shirts and skirts and debates on whether or not to wear heels. They crowded around the mirrors in the bathroom, putting on makeup and pinning their hair into place.

Unlike the other girls, Anastasia was done getting ready in a few short minutes. She simply threw on a black blouse and the girls’ standard skirt. A few strokes of a brush was enough to do her hair, which fell in natural waves to her waist. She slipped on a pair of flats and walked out of the room, passing the full and noisy bathroom on her way out with a smile.

Headmistress Countonya was speaking with a group of people, four men and a woman. Two were very large, all brawn and pure muscle. They held themselves high, above everyone else, but Anastasia noted their toes awkwardly fidgeting in their shoes, a telltale sign of a lack of understanding in the conversation they were in.

The third man was slender and tall, he almost had the body of a dancer. He was obviously the brains of the group, considering the fact that he was the only one directly talking to Countonya.

The woman, blonde and straight-backed, held her arms crossed and was shooting dirty looks at the third man, who never once met her gaze.

The final man stood outside of the circle, barely sighing hearing distance of their hushed tones. He had icy blue eyes, which gazed around the room in thought.

Anya suddenly felt her stomach drop. She knew she recognized him from somewhere. Was he involved in one of her missions? Was he a witness she didn’t realize she needed to fix? It didn’t matter where she knew him from- what scared her the most was that she couldn’t remember who he was at all.

Just as his eyes landed on hers, the woman judged him back to attention, and the break in stillness resulted in Countonya looking back at Anastasia.

The Headmistress lost her large smile during the brief interruption but immediately put it back on, walking gracefully over to Anastasia, arms outstretched.

“This is Anastasia,” she said, her hands landing on Anya’s shoulder and arm. “She’s one of our best, and the most excellent dancer we have.”

The five murmured greetings in return to Countonya’s introduction.

“Now,” she said, turning back to the girl and raising a hand to straighten a lock of her hair. “I need you to go get everyone so we can properly introduce ourselves to the Winter Soldiers here.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she responded before immediately turning on her heels to go.

She swiftly ran back to the girls’ room, her heart beating faster than it should while she tried to search her brain for how she could possibly know the man. Somehow, all she was drawing was a blank. There was nothing but their brief encounter that just happened in her mind.

Anastasia shook herself free of the worry, telling herself there was time to discover the truth later. She stuck her head into the doorway, the girls putting on their stockings and tossing shoes around inside.

Before she could open her mouth to say anything, Ekaterina was already responding.

“Jesus, Anya,” she said, hairpins in her mouth as she pulled her thick hair into a flattering updo. “Not all of us can wake up, get dressed, and leave looking as perfect as you.”

“Oh, no,” Anastasia said, remaining in the doorway. “Countonya wants you to hurry up. I’m happy to wait.”

“Why?” Gennediya stood straight and joined Anastasia in the doorway. “Are they all incapable old men that are only capable of ‘long-distance intelligence work’? Are they going to be our new partners.”

“No, no,” Anya responded. “I honestly don’t know. There are four men and a woman.”

Vlada came out of the bathroom, pushing her long blonde hair over her shoulders. “C’mon, everybody. Don’t want the Winter Soldiers to be Summer Soldiers by the time we go out there.”

As she passed by Ekaterina, who was applying lipstick in the mirror, she smacked her hand and warned protests of the girl.

“That’s your fifth layer of lipstick. Any more makeup and Countonya will wonder why our dear sister Ekaterina was replaced by a oil painting.”

All of the girls’ burst into excited muttering while they left the room, Ekaterina the last to come out with significantly less makeup on her face than before. Anastasia was joined by Natasha, who nudged her playfully, gesturing back at Ekaterina.

“I think she wants to bed one of the new men,” she whispered.

“Is that a surprise?” Anastasia responded, making Natasha giggle.

The girls immediately got into a straight line based on their rank when they fell in sight of Countonya. Vlada, Anastasia, and Natasha remained the first three as always and the other girls shuffled into their new positions, which they received last Thursday. Ljuba, who was last for the second week in a row, couldn’t help but visibly be shaken at the remembrance of the other girls that were once at the end of the line and didn’t live to see the next day.

“Vlada,” Countonya said, beginning the role call.

“211914,” she replied automatically, stormy gray eyes locked ahead. One could tell just from Vlada’s stance, arms clasped behind her back and feet a shoulder’s width apart, that she was a fighter. She was beautiful, with long blonde hair that fell down her back, but her eyes, clouded with thousands of thoughts racing through her head, often intimidated people. Anastasia’s eyes unconsciously grew brighter. That was one of her best friends, at the head of the group, being the leader she was trained to be.

“Anastasia,” Countonya called out, moving to the next girl in line.

“211908,” the girl responded. She knew she wasn’t as impressive as Vlada. Though they were closely ranked first and second as always, Vlada could hold the stance of a soldier while Anya simply stood in fourth position, her body taking every opportunity to dance. While most girls half-hazard the art because it was a mere cover for the Red Room, Anastasia embraced the art form and poured her passion into it.

“Natasha.”

“182110,” the redhead responded, face set in a straight expression Anastasia knew was a ruse to convince Countonya that she was not the joking mess Anya knew her dearest friend to be. She stood like Vlada, but puffed out her chest and straightened her back more, making the curve of her body over-exaggerated. Countonya raised an eyebrow as she passed, and when she had moved on, Natasha looked to her side and shot a wink at Anastasia.

“Gennediya, Vera, Stanislava, Helena,” Countonya continued going down the line, the girls responding with their codes mechanically.

The Winter Soldier with icy blue eyes followed his group and Countonya, disinterest written all over his face. His gaze wandered back down the line and eventually landed on Anastasia’s. For a brief second, his brow furrowed and his eyes grew cold, locked in a gaze with hers. Then, his shoulder twitched, perhaps a nervous tick, and he returned to the group, his back a little straighter than before.

[milkyytae]

Just Friends~Part 8

(gif isn’t mine credit to owner)

Part 8, I kind of hit the writers block, hard. But I’m back, I think I finally got my shit together for this story so it should go steadily from here, at least tat’s what I’m hoping :’) 

-2 269 words

angst? kind of? 

~Rose discovers the reasons for Jungkooks awful behavior.~

prologue , part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10

The sun was warming my back as I sat in the middle of a crowded coffee shop. It was noisy, people were rushing in and out drinks in hand. I had plugged my earphones in and tried to concentrate on my work the steady beat of my music in my ears relaxing me. I typed on my computer and downed black coffee as I worked on the new project Jinyoung and I had been assigned. Since the success of the party we organized for Seunguri we had had a lot of work to do and we didn’t want to disappoint our boss. Our promotion was great and neither of us was complaining but the pressure was heavy, thank goodness we were sharing out the work with each other to get through it. Jinyoung always had a smile and was very down to earth which helped since I usually got carried away with my ideas that bubbled up inside my twisted mind. I came here to focus on work and work only. When I was at home I spent too much time thinking about Jungkook. There were too many reminders of him. Some things I could put away somewhere out of my sight but others I couldn’t. The walls were my worst enemy. We had painted them together when I moved in. Each time I looked up at them I remembered his face and hair covered in paint and his pretty smile and sparkling eyes looking down at me. That day I had had a hard time stopping myself from kissing him. I took a break from work for five minutes sipping on my burning hot coffee as I saw a couple of students enter giggling. It was a tall young man and a shorter girl both in their school uniforms. They went to buy some drinks and a snack and headed out their face smothered with the biggest grins I had ever seen. They reminded me of Jungkook and I when we were younger. I smiled to myself as I thought about the day we first met. 

It was a Thursday morning. I was fourteen. My hair was tied up in a ponytail, something I used to do on a daily basis. I looked up at myself after spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing my mouth to make sure my teeth were clean and that nothing was left in between my braces. It was fine everything was pearly white and sparkling, I sent myself a satisfied smile in the mirror but regretted instantly opening my mouth as wide as my braces ripped the inside of my cheek open once again. I swore at the pain while I applied a quick dose of mascara and chapstick before heading out the door. I had started school last Monday after what I thought had been the best holidays of my life. I had spent them with my friends by the sea in a tent, only to give me the worst tan I ever recalled having. I didn’t care then I thought my tan was the best, I thought I looked like a sun-kissed surfer. Looking back at the photos I knew I really looked like burnt toast. I was happy to go to school, I was convinced this year would be my year, I was a grown up now that didn’t need no man. Not after who I thought was the love of my life, aka a certain Min Yoongi broke up with me shattering my heart to bits. I thought it was going to be for life, but Yoongi decided otherwise, I cried a bit but got over it after a week. I was sitting with my new classmates waiting for the teacher to arrive. I hadn’t memorized everyone’s faces yet so I was surprised to see someone I hadn’t noticed approach me and my friends. He came up to us timidly with his messy hair in his face “Um, hey! I’m sorry but have you seen a blue pen anywhere?” he stuttered. I had in fact seen a blue pen fly across the room, the bully of the class had sent it our way but missed ridiculously. Steven, he was in my class last year and I hated him. He always thought he was better than everyone and wouldn’t hesitate to bully others. All I ever wanted to do was smack his smug grin right off of his sweaty face. I got up and picked up his pen for him. When I gave it to him I could still remember the pretty smile he gave me as he said thank you and sat back down. From that moment I had a soft spot for him, sadly I never managed to catch his name he was too quiet. It had become a habit for Steven to pick on him since he didn’t seem to do anything about it, he was too nice for his own good. Every day the poor boy would be mocked or chased down the corridors. I hated Steven a little more every day. Once I was sitting in the playground with my friends and looked at him being pestered by the same guy again. It was horrible he had taken his bag and was emptying it onto the floor breaking all of his stuff. The boy stood there powerless and I hated it. All I could see on his face was pain. He wasn’t doing anything and nobody would help him, the teachers didn’t seem to notice what was going on and everyone was scared of creating a scene and having detention so they let it be.  I had had enough of this nonsense. So being the badass bitch I used to be I got up, as my friends stared at me. I headed straight for them, the determination to help him was pouring out of me. Steven would learn his lesson today, I was going to make sure of that.  I got up to them both, Steven looked at me as I picked up a few books and handed them to the boy, who looked at me in surprise and gave me a small smile I smiled back but the anger soon took over me again, the only words going back and forth in my mind “Fuck I hate Steven. Fuck I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.” Steven opened his big gob “Hey what do you think you’re d..” I didn’t give him time to finish as my fist swung across his face sending his greasy self to the floor. “FUCK OFF!” I yelled knowing well that by now every single person had their eyes driven on me. I had never felt so liberated all my hate had swung off right into Steven’s nose and I couldn’t stop the massive grin appearing on my face as he put his hand to his bleeding nose. I picked up the rest of the stuff on the floor and turned towards the impressed boy “What’s your name?” “Jungkook.” I grinned, I finally knew his name. “Well then Jungkook don’t let this piece of shit treat you like that.” I said with a soft smile. Before I knew it all three of us were being dragged to the principal’s office. We all got detention, even Jungkook despite me protesting about it, he hadn’t done anything but the principal wouldn’t have a word of it. During that hour of detention Jungkook sent me a message on a crumpled piece of paper “Thank you” were the only words written but it was enough to warm my heart. In the end, Jungkook and I became best friends and we spent the rest of our days stuck to each other.

“How did we get up to this?” I sighed to myself.

I stopped thinking about the past and focused back on my work holding back all those memories for one of my sleepless nights. As I was plunged into my work I didn’t see the person coming up to me. It’s only when they called out my name I realized that Chloe was standing right in front of me with a small smile. I looked at her in aberration, it was Chloe, Jungkook’s perfect ex-girlfriend, the one I used to hate. “Can I sit here?” she asked, I just nodded still under the shock of seeing her for the first time in months.  I had completely forgotten about her. She hadn’t changed a bit, her hair was perfectly combed, her clothes and makeup were on point as usual and she still had the same pretty smile. I couldn’t believe I was letting the girl I once despised sit with me. I couldn’t hate her anymore not after I knew what Jungkook surely put her through. I couldn’t even imagine what she had felt when the first scandal was all over the internet and magazines. It had all been shoved into her face and was almost impossible to escape. Often we would hear about him through media, I don’t know how she faced it. I examined her face sneakily over my laptop as she sat down. She looked fine as if nothing of this had ever happened. Maybe she had already moved on, and I was the only one who wouldn’t let go of the past like a child not wanting to grow up. She got out her book and started to read. Why did she have to sit in front of me out of all people? I wondered but when I lifted my head I realized all the other seats were taken. I sighed, again,  and went back to work. Seeing her again didn’t help me concentrate, all the feelings stirring up inside my stomach. After a while I took a break and offered Chloe to go and get her a refill to be polite, I had no reason to hate her not anymore. Even though, each time I set my eyes of her smile and rosy cheeks I hated her even more. I was jealous, she had moved on, she was happy, and here I still was making myself suffer by thinking about Jungkook all the time. In the end, I had never tried to move on had I?

When I came back with our coffees I sat down in silence and then a question just blurted out of my mouth “What happened between you and Jungkook?” She looked at me in surprise. “I’m sorry this isn’t any of my concern, I’m just a bit curious.. I mean.. uh..” I stuttered trying not to make a fool out of myself but failing miserably. She chuckled sweetly, god I hated when she did that and asked with her soft voice “Sweetie, didn’t he tell you anything?” “No, he and I don’t talk much anymore.” I explained, the words stung as I spat them out not wanting to give too much thought about it.   “Oh.” She seemed shocked but soon brushed it off putting on her gorgeous smile back on. I wondered what kind of mask she was wearing to be able to smile like that all the time. “Well, things went a bit crazy, it’s kind of complicated. We both did things we shouldn’t have done.” Both? What did that mean? I thought it was because of Jungkook fucking around. “What kind of things?” I asked realizing that I was being nosy, but I needed to understand what had been going on to understand why Jungkook changed so drastically. She sighed but proceeded to explain “Long story short, I cheated him.” I almost choked on my coffee. I couldn’t believe it. Chloe the perfect girlfriend cheated on him? I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had told me Jungkook cheated, in fact that was what I was expecting her to say. I stared at her in complete shock. How could she do that to him? I hated he I would have killed to be her and she didn’t even bother in treating him right. That boy deserved so much more and she broke him, it was her fault he was like this. I tried not to jump to conclusions even if I was almost convinced everything was her fault. I waited for her to explain further, something was wrong but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. “I wasn’t happy with him so I searched for comfort elsewhere, I slept with Yugyeom.” Yugyeom. The words hit me like a knife. What was he doing in this whole affair? That night at BamBam’s party he told me Jungkook slept with his girlfriend and now Jungkook’s ex was telling me she had slept with Yugyeom. This sure was some fucked up story. “Explain everything, I need to know.” I said sternly and she obeyed. “Jungkook wasn’t making me as I happy as I wished he would. So one evening when Yugyeom came, things happened, we got close and for some reason, we both ended up fucking in my bed. One thing we hadn’t anticipated was that Jungkook had finished work earlier, and he caught us. Before you say anything, I know I shouldn’t have done anything and I swear that I had never felt worse than that night, but it was too late, the damage was done. After that Jungkook fucked Yugyeom’s girlfriend to get revenge I guess…” she looked at me with a sorry face. But I didn’t care if she was sorry, it was her and Yugyeom’s fault Jungkook was like this. Everything was entirely their fault. “You disgust me.” I grunted as I took my stuff and left. I couldn’t look at her face for another second.  

[chimaeracabra]

Wednesday-Thursday

           Last night we went to band practice. Kacy and Vanessa are adorable. Everyone was so chill. Joe was a little bit late, but he was also really nice. He said that the name of their band, Hatteras, comes from this island called Hatteras in North Carolina where he wanted to go when he was living there but never did. And so he started writing music again in 2014, thinking that he would never end up making music with other people again. And then it happened, so that island meant something similar, a place he never thought he’d go. Very sentimental.

           On the drive home, Nathan explained the way that the band fell together. He had met Joe on Craig’s List trying to put together a band just for fun. Nathan and Joe met two other people via Craig’s List for the band, and the other two guys that played a few shows with them ended up saying that they didn’t like screaming. It just wasn’t their style, so those two guys left. And then Nathan and Joe still wanted to make music, so they kept on with it and looked for a bass player and drummer. Their drummer kept flaking, but Joe recalled having reached out to Vanessa a year prior about being bass for a band. So once Joe hit Vanessa up again, she came to a practice, and brought her boyfriend, Kacy (because, duh, no one should meet random guys off Craig’s List and go alone). Kacy ended up being a drummer, so that’s how those two joined the band.

           I liked seeing him happy while he was practicing. I’ve never felt that way before in a romantic sense; just happy because the person I’m with his happy. We went to Winco again afterwards because I wanted some other items. People still stare at us sometimes. I told Nathan that I never notice, though. I don’t see well.

We went by Sacramento City College and fed the ducks. The geese were bitchy, some of them. Some would eat straight from my hand, others were too scared. It was kind of funny, actually. And at one point, this kid came up and asked for a piece of the white bread that Nathan brought last night at Winco for us to feed the duckies. I gave half a piece of bread to a kid who came up and asked me for some. There were even turtles that ate the bread. I saw two of them come up. They were very small. I fed a squirrel; it came right up to my hand and ate the bread I was holding. It almost looked like a rabbit, actually. There was so much goose poop, though. Ew. Lol.

Nathan then drove me to Sacramento State University, and we walked around there. There was a bridge that looked similar to the Golden Gate, where we’ll actually be going tomorrow. 

It got very hot while we were walking around. Started sweating bullets. But it was nice. And then we went into the library. And there were some really cool old books in there. Nathan found a bunch of really huge ones...

And there were some very large map books. I saw something with Roman/Latin inspiration in it. So of course I photographed it...

I put Keep You on in the CD player in Nathan’s car on the way back to the house. Then I started to feel really sad. I’m going home on Monday. I can’t believe this trip is almost over. I still can hardly believe that I’m here. I’m dreading going home. However, I think that Nathan’s bed is too soft for me. I have been waking up with back aches since I got here.

Sigh. I’m going to really miss him when I have to go. He has already talked to me about meeting my family. I’m going to be meeting his grand parents on Sunday, Father’s day. Although, he will be going to see his father alone for the reasons that I’m not at liberty to really discuss. It’s a sad situation that makes me feel sad, because I know that Nathan’s not happy about it. And there is nothing I can do. So that’s probably going to feel awkward for me. And I don’t want to call my own dad. As far as I know, he doesn’t even know that I’m on the West coast right now. Nathan told me that if my dad calls, I should just tell him about us. And I think that I will. 

I’m just so sad this is almost over. I like being with him. We were watching Black Mirror and Gran Torino yesterday. In the episode of Black Mirror we watched, there was a dating app and this interracial couple (BWWM), and we just cuddled and at one point I said, “They’re meant to be together.” And Nathan rubbed my shoulder and said, “Just like us.” Gran Torino was funny, and sad. Then we started watching this film called Fury. I was resting my head on Nathan’s chest and he kept asking me if I was falling asleep. I was so tired, but I didn’t want to go to sleep. He left the room to get a drink and told me, “Keep watching, okay.” I don’t know...it feels like we’ve been together for a long time. The other day, Nathan said it felt very natural as well. He said in the car at one point, “I definitely wanna marry you.” I was in the bathroom doing my makeup the other day and he just came in and peed. Nothing has been awkward. It’s pretty amazing. I don’t reach this comfort level with most anyone this quickly.

I almost can’t stand myself right now for feeling as airy-fairy as I’m feeling, because I’m afraid that something horrendous is going to happen. I’m afraid that if I get too happy, it’ll be shattered just like that. Waiting to see...

I keep adding to this post because things keep coming to me that I forgot to write about. On Tuesday evening, Nathan and I went into the pool. His sister’s husband’s coworkers came over with some kids. Nathan hates kids. Lol. One little boy came over to a chair where I left my cover up and took it to his mom, thinking it was hers. Nathan was shaking his head and looked so irritated, but I just laughed and told him that he thought it was his mom’s, and if I was a kid, I would have done the same thing. He kept smiling as we floated around in the pool. He has this smile that’s like...almost mischievous, like he knows something that I don’t know. I told him this, not really knowing what he would think. I think he just told me that he’s happy.

When we went to Sacramento City College today (where he’s taking some classes to transfer to UCLA), there was a bench, more like a moving gazebo thing that we went and sat on. He told me about his black cousins and aunt and uncle. We talked about how we got spanked as children, but his aunt left her husband because he used to actually beat their kids. I loved hearing about his childhood and experiences. He gave some pieces of our last white bread loaf to some kids who asked for some so they could feed the ducks and geese. He said that he liked those kids, and I said it was because they were more mature and well-mannered. His bandmate Joe is going to be teaching 7th and 8th grade, which Nathan said he feels badly for him because of that. But they’re probably going to be well-mannered kids because they’re from rich white areas. I told him that if we have kids, they’re going to get spanked if they misbehave.

When we were walking around the pond, he pointed across the street to a house and said one day we’ll live in one of those. (Lol, he just asked me if I’m okay again. I love this man. Holy fuck) And there was this place called Fairytale Town where people can take their kids. Also there was a little zoo. He said that he remembers going there to the petting zoo as a child and thinking it was such an amazing place. But now as an adult, he thinks, "God, that's just a place where the animals want to die." Because children terrorize animals. I jokingly said that when we live in one of those houses next door, we can take our child there to terrorize the animals. Nathan said, “And I’m going to tell our child, ‘Listen, these animals are here to be terrorized for your pleasure.’” This is ineffable.

[laurakaye]

This. Is. 60.

November 13, 2017

[Originally posted in segments on Facebook and Instagram.]

Yep, the secret is out. I turn 60 years old today. As I got closer to this day, I debated with myself as to whether or not I should reveal my actual age. I mean, I’m a very definite product of the music industry’s disdain for aging females. I’m happy to report that my original vision and goal won out.

Since my last birthday, I made a conscious decision to take my workouts to the next level, cultivating focus and determination to achieve the goals I’ve set for myself. This is a symbolic act as much as it is a physical one. My vision has been to hit 60 with a BANG, and use this to set the tone for this next decade of my life.

As I approached this scary number, I figured I had two choices. I could either cower from it, rail at it, get depressed by it, generally freak out about it; OR I could embrace it with immense gratitude that I’m ALIVE and turn it into a celebration.

It’s not easy – and I’ve gone through many existential crises these past few years as I age in an industry that views female aging as a bad thing - but I’m choosing the latter. Truth be told, I’m turning 60 no matter what so I might as well do my best to face it with a joyous stance.

I never thought I’d make it to 60, actually. The majority of my family either died young or has battled various cancers, so my entire life has been informed by the expectation that I’d never get here. But here I am, and I’m in good health, and I’m working my tail off to stay that way… because the alternative does not appeal to me. Am I creaky in the morning? Yes! Does it take a little extra work to stretch it out and move so I can stand tall and face each day? Yes! But I LIKE feeling strong, I LIKE standing straight, I LIKE seeing muscles when I look in the mirror; and being lean and fit is a major contributor to my happiness. For ME, this is powerful motivation.

Every day is a blessing. Even the challenges and heartaches and pain are blessings because they make you GROW; they build your foundation, they fortify you, they make you who you are.

The best piece of advice I ever received was, “You are not a victim. You are a survivor.” YES I AM.

Oh, and I’m 60.

And 60 ROCKS!!!!

My larger goal is to shatter the paradigm of what it means to be a biologically older woman in our society (because really mentally I’m just a total Peter Pan).

I don’t talk about my age much when I’m in professional situations, mainly because our culture is very quick to comment on and judge women’s appearances as we get older, like it’s a bad thing we need to fix. Very different story for men, but THAT is another topic entirely. ;)

We’re constantly bombarded with magazine articles that scream at us for daring to flaunt our personal style past a certain age. If you’re over 40, you can’t do this. If you’re over 50, you can’t do that. If you’re over 60? 70? 80? Well, if you’re a female in the MUSIC industry, you should just go off into the wilderness and disappear. And if you’re an older female in general, you gradually become more and more invisible.


Well, that mindset is just not in my emotional makeup. Maybe it’s because I’m a creative person and creative people follow their own rules. Whatever it is, I’m Peter Pan. I may be getting older but I won’t grow up. I hope I never lose that feeling of joyous childlike wonder, or the feeling of reveling in the great highs I experience when I jump around the stage like a lunatic. On top of that, the louder I sing – aka the stronger I inhabit and project my power - the better I feel. And I never want to give that up. Why should I?

The more of us older women who continue to do our thing, continue to be vital and open and creative and STRONG, the better. Who’s with me? ;)

YOURS IS THE ONLY DEFINITION THAT TRULY MATTERS. Don’t ever let anyone else’s expectations define who you are or what you’re capable of. Boundaries are an illusion.

I’m the type of person who, when I find something that inspires and challenges me, I throw myself wholeheartedly into the task of mastering it. Total commitment. Go big or go home. I don’t like to do anything half-assed. I don’t like to settle and I don’t like to give up. I expand when challenged, I rise up to my fullest height, I work harder, I get more intense.

Earlier this year, I set a goal for myself to do a fitness photo shoot for my birthday and prepare for it like it was a competition. In a way, I suppose it was; since I was competing with my own personal best to see if I could take it to another level. I’ve been weight training and body sculpting and treating gyms as playgrounds on and off since I was 28 years old but, for the past 10 months or so, I’ve been rededicating myself and working harder than ever.

When I’m not on the road, I take cardio dance classes every single day (twice/day if my schedule permits), I incorporate multiple sets of core exercises every other day, and I have a set schedule of workouts that typically looks like this: - Saturday: back/biceps - Sunday: lower body, part 1 - Monday: chest/triceps - Tuesday: off, with the exception of a barre class - Wednesday: shoulders - Thursday: lower body, part 2 - Friday: off

My workouts were all going well but my brain started getting meddlesome as I got closer to the photo shoot. I’d look in the mirror and be consumed with self-doubt (“what am I thinking!”) and it was a daily struggle to get that voice of self-sabatoge to quiet down. At one point, it got so bad that I came very close to cancelling the entire thing but what kept me going was the overriding thought that I’d be filled with regret if I came this far and then backed down.

There is nothing like the sense of accomplishment when you set a challenge for yourself and you rise above every obstacle – both physical and psychological - to achieve it.

Self doubt. Aka self-administered toxic poison. It takes effect quickly and it stops us in our tracks. As a creative person, the sludge of “I’m not good enough” and “Why bother” and “I can’t do it” can sometimes be tough to push through.

So I let those voices have their say, I acknowledge them, and then I climb up and over and through them… because it’s all about keeping that creative valve open in everything you do. Dig deep to find the discipline and focus to make things happen in your life, and take charge despite the inevitable setbacks. I’ve gotten caught in the trap of doubting my progress and my abilities, and this is precisely when I need to remind myself of THIS:

“When you doubt your power, you give power to your doubt.”  ~Honore de Balzac

I have my cheerleaders and I have my antagonists. Both have great value. Cheerleaders keep me going, antagonists test my resolve.

My greatest cheerleader on this journey – and in my life - is my beautiful husband Mark. He’s quick to compliment me when he catches me flexing in the mirror, he continuously supports me every step of the way, and has been and continues to be a true voice of encouragement. Of course, part of this is a natural outgrowth of the love he feels for me - and oh how lucky I am to be the recipient of that love - but he, too, is an extremely disciplined fitness enthusiast who keeps himself in excellent shape, so he understands. While our methods may be different, our goals are the same. We want to live healthy lives and continue doing the things we love for as long as we are capable of doing so. My second greatest cheerleader is my child, Elijah, who seems genuinely proud of what I’ve been accomplishing and helps to push me in a forward moving direction whenever witnessing my bouts of self-doubt. In a very real way, I’m doing this for Elijah. It’s a legacy thing, it’s a motivational thing, it’s a demonstration of what can be accomplished with hard work and discipline. As parents, I believe we must do everything in our power to be the ultimate role models for our children. And, considering the state of the world today, I believe that in a larger sense we should try our best to be role models for everyone...

Conversely, there are people who say, “But you already look great, why are you doing this?” or “You’re going to overtrain and injure yourself!” When I shared the news with a couple of friends that I was changing up my diet in the weeks before my photo shoot so I could lean out even more, I got a verbal onslaught that literally made me take a step backwards. They said things like “When you’re older and you lose too much weight, your face will look haggard!” and “You’ll make yourself sick!” and “You’re getting too skinny!” After thinking about this for a bit, I came to understand that their comments came from a place of caring and concern. I took a defensive stance until I realized I could use this moment to supply even more fuel for my fire.

A few weeks ago, I was doing cable crossovers at the gym and there was a woman using a machine near me, who happily commented about my form while doing the exercise. She looked pretty badass herself and was also demonstrating excellent form. We starting chatting and I shared with her how old I am and a few details about my ongoing fitness mission and she astonished me by saying she was 85 years old, has been a runner all her life, and has done multiple triathlons with her now 92 year old sister (who is also still going strong).  Her comment and her story made me feel so happy because, looking at her, I know that what I’m striving for is possible. Oh, and her name is FAITH. How awesome is THAT?  

(Note above the above picture: Those of you who know me know that I generally HATE wearing high heels, especially onstage. I have enough trouble keeping my balance WITHOUT heels, let alone with them... but wearing them for this particular photo helped me to get my leg muscles to do what I needed them to do. They didn't last long - maybe just this picture - but they did the trick. lol 😂)

I’ve worked with several trainers on and off over the years and have accumulated enough knowledge to craft my own workouts and do my own thing but, since my goal here was to take this to another level, several weeks before the shoot, I supplemented my workouts by training with Nathan Blake (who, in addition to being my cardio dance instructor, is also an excellent personal trainer) and started working with a true fitness inspiration, Lori Glatt, to help me target my troublesome shoulder area. No matter how much I lift, it’s been hard to get that nice rounded shoulder cap that I’m after. Lori gave me some excellent tips on how to isolate this area, all without using super heavy weights, and all very mindful of a pesky recurring neck injury (from a long career of head banging - lol).

Acting on suggestions and recommendations from Nathan and Lori, I intensified my workouts, and adjusted my diet to “lean out” and lower my body fat level in an effort to get my muscles to pop more. Lori told me about a company called Nutropia, who customized meal plans for me based on my needs. They prepared and delivered 3 meals a day plus 2 snacks; consisting of between 1,200–1,400 calories and containing close to 100 grams of protein. In addition to protein, there were lots of greens, zero fruits, zero sugar, and only 2 servings of complex carbs per day. I’ve been able to maintain my “happy weight” (give or take) for years but, with Nutropia’s help, I dropped 6 pounds in 2 weeks.

Fitness photos generally require a tanned and oiled body so, the day before the shoot, I got the first spray tan of my life (Lori recommended Courtney Dorrien) so I wouldn’t look like a ghost. Now THAT was a trip. After getting sprayed, I couldn’t shower until the following morning, and then only just a rinse for the residue. With my just-refreshed platinum hair and newly super-dark skin, I looked exactly like Magda the tan lady from “There’s Something About Mary.” Kind of unnerving, I have to admit. Luckily, much of it rinsed out the following morning, leaving me with a more natural, healthy looking glow. 

I was advised to stop drinking water 24 hours before the shoot so my body would dehydrate and my muscles would hopefully become more visible.  Believe it or not, that was WAY harder than adjusting my diet. I normally drink a minimum of 64 ounces of water every day. I was allowed to have small sips but no more than 4 ounces worth, so I resorted to sucking on ice cubes. No lie, this was rough. 

By the morning of my shoot, I weighed 109 pounds (at 5’3”, I’m usually around 115-117), my skin was glowing, and I was ready. I was also a starving, thirsty, headachy mess but I wasn’t going to let THAT stop me!  

The shoot was scheduled for 2:00pm on Saturday, October 28 at Dany Holdstein’s Two Worlds, with photographer Luis Lozano, another Lori recommendation. I spent the morning puttering around my house in a haze, making sure I had all my clothes, makeup, shoes, etc. packed and ready to go. Now that the day was actually here, I couldn’t wait to get started. I arrived about an hour before to get ready. The gym area is empty there on Saturdays so we had the place to ourselves. I did my own hair and Lori did a stellar job with my makeup. I prepared 3 outfits and had a rough idea of the poses I wanted to do. Nathan showed up just as we were getting started and stayed for the first hour or so, giving me direction for the first part of the shoot, which was focused on poses that highlighted my legs. Lori was there for most of the afternoon, cheering me on. I could not be more grateful for the great suggestions and guidance I received from both of these incredible people.

For close to 5 hours, I had to contract my muscles for each shot, only able to breathe when Luis was adjusting the lighting and the scenes. I’ve done zillions of photo shoots but this was an entirely different experience. How to pose so each muscle group is highlighted? What should I do with my FACE? Smile? Serious? The Laura Kaye howl? (Yeah, that won out for the most part…)  

I know there are things I could have done better, poses I had wanted to do but forgot about in the whirlwind of the day, but this will only serve to push me harder as I strive for my next goal… whatever THAT may be… ;)

Always be on the lookout for game changers in your life. Seek out mentors, people who inspire you to cross the threshold of your comfort zone into a place of expansion and growth.

The people who appear on your path and change you so drastically are few and far between. They are treasures and the kind of value they hold in your life cannot be measured.

Once upon a time, a chain of gyms opened just for women and I joined a place called Living Well Lady, and I took an aerobic class with a guy named Rafael Robles, a bodybuilder/dancer who introduced me to weight/strength training, the art of body sculpting, and more. Rafael became my first trainer, motivator, and cheerleader as I started achieving results. I met Mark the following year and was in the best shape of my life, which I’m POSITIVE contributed to us getting together, and ultimately led us to the life we now have with our beautiful Elijah...

It’s amazing how some things in your life can become obvious axis points, catalysts for growth and change. If I had never joined that gym, if I had never met Rafael, if he had not been that catalyst for change, who knows?

I’m grateful for everything that sparks my passions and fuels my pursuit of them.

When it comes to my pursuit of fitness, I have to include Nathan Blake in that select group of game changers.

I discovered Nathan’s cardio dance classes about 6 years ago, after I was complaining to a trainer at my local gym about how I needed to do more cardio but hated treadmills and he suggested I take a class. I went through a few instructors until the day Nate did a master class at my gym and every nerve ending in my body and brain was magnetized and mesmerized.

I started out as a “back of the room” person and, as someone with balance issues, I never considered myself to be that coordinated. I spent what seemed like an eternity tripping over my feet in massive frustration as I tried desperately to get it right. Nathan took note of my efforts and always pushed me even harder, sometimes staying long after class was over to hammer some of the steps into my head (and feet). As I gradually started getting better and gaining more confidence, I inched my way up front. I took a Zumba certification course so I could learn even more, and I even sub-taught a class (using Nathan’s routines) at a gym in L.A. during one of my visits to Elijah.

I’m captivated by the beauty and grace inherent in all forms of dance, and I’ve always been fascinated by and jealous of dancers. Even though I’ve always been a good “mover” onstage and I’ve developed my own style over the years, I never thought of what I did as dancing.

Participating in these classes awoke that secret craving to be a dancer and I’ve become very passionate in my pursuit of this goal. As I slowly started getting better at not only following Nathan’s choreography but actually anticipating some of it to the point where I could relax into the moves with more ease, I discovered that dancing feeds my spirit almost as much as singing does, and to say I’m hooked is an understatement. I’ve dedicated a lot of effort towards doing my utmost best to master this particular art form and it brings me indescribable joy.

When I’m dancing and I’m in the zone, I feel like I’m weightless. I’m 100% present in the moment and there is no stress, no worry, no obstacle I can’t overcome.

I’m also lucky enough to train with Nathan when time permits. His workouts are consistently creative and challenging and always get me the results I’m after.

Thank you to all the game changers in every aspect of my life... the good AND the bad... because you are the bricks and mortar of my foundation...


I will never stop testing my limits or setting challenges for myself. I will never close myself off to new learning opportunities, or to things that make me grow.

People have been asking me why I did this. It’s simple really. I did it for ME. I did it so I could feel strong and healthy and powerful. I did it because there’s so little in life that we can actually control and I set a challenge for myself to see if I possessed the discipline to control THIS. Turns out that I do. I worked hard and I put in the extra effort. In fact, pushing myself past what I thought I was capable of has been an incredible feeling. At the risk of sounding narcissistic, I’m damn proud of myself.

I also did it because I CAN. I mean, who knows what the coming days, months, years will bring? I’m all too aware that I have lived more life than I have left, so I need to inhale the specialness of every new day. 

People have also been asking what my secret was. Guess what? NO SECRET! I was relentless in my pursuit of elevating my fitness regimen to see what I could achieve.

I truly believe we have a responsibility to do the best we can with what we have at our disposal. Perception and attitude is key. We were all created uniquely and nobody is perfect. In fact, it’s not about achieving perfection because you simply cannot. However, you can embrace and be empowered by your IMperfections. We are perfectly imperfect. So own the spotlight, own your beautiful flaws, and try to understand that THERE IS NO WRONG WAY TO BE YOU. I tell this to the choirs I work with all the time…

You are a constant work in progress and you are the sculptor, crafting the most beautiful self you possibly can, with the tools you pick up along the way.

Thank you for reading my ramblings and reflections on entering this next decade! As I pore through all the great comments and PM’s and tagged posts I’ve been getting since I initially shared this on Facebook and Instagram, I realize that my larger vision of motivating and inspiring (in whatever way has meaning for YOU) has taken root… I can’t BEGIN to tell you how amazing that feels. As they say, it ain’t over ‘til it’s over. While we’re here and breathing, we must LIVE…

(Photos by Luis Lozano; makeup by Lori Glatt; clothes by Body Engineers Celestial Bodiez, Jed North, Champion; shoes by Heyday Footwear; spray tan by Courtney Dorrien; training/coaching by Nathan Blake, cheerleading by Mark Wood, Elijah Wood, and many others..)