#im laughing at myself but i really have a point i can’t articulate here

[coolcoolwithyou]

why don’t we talk about this more. we should talk about this more

[barzzal]

between halls and thin walls → part four

summary: friends who fool around almost never works. almost.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: idiots, that’s all <3

↳ genre: fluff, angst, smut, roommates au, best friend’s best friend, friends with benefits, 18+

↳ length: series; part one, part two, part three, part four (6.7k), part five, part six

↳ masterlist: the barn

↳ track: my favorite part by mac miller, addicted by jorja smith, someone to spend time with by los retros

note: finally got myself to update this fic oml zzz quick psa tho, this will now be a six-part series! hope that’s okay and yenno as always, would love to hear what you think about this (validate me in the tags pls im lonely) happy reading babes! <3

“Yo, grandma. Haven’t you had too much tea to drink?” his voice echoes in the room as soon as he walks into it. You carefully set the cup down on the dining table and looked at him exasperatedly. 

“Haven’t you had too much care to give?” you snark back, earning yourself a disappointed look from him. 

“Really, y/n? That’s the best you’ve got?” he shakes his head at your appalling retort.  What a shame.

You were good at pissing him off to be fair. You just weren’t in the mood to throw teases back and forth especially now that you’re feeling particularly vulnerable.

The week has been far too dreadful for you and you know that you’re willing to grovel your way into the weekend to finally have the time to slack off, not worry about taking a bath, and just go crazy with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

However, just like always, Mathew seems to never run out of ways to get on your nerves. 

He carelessly puts his stuff on the table, causing a fairly loud thud on the surface. 

You let out a deep breath, massaging your temple. 

“Somebody’s cranky.” he grins. Not necessarily the kind you’d want to see from him. 

You try to ignore him for a few minutes but you can’t help noticing how his build easily took over much of the space you’ve already been occupying. You irkingly look up at him, closing the book you were reading. You meet Mat’s eyes who just innocently looked back into yours. Waiting. Possibly plotting on yet another sophisticated way to toy with you.

“You’re a child.” you roll your eyes and return to your reading. He says nothing and instead rests his chin atop his enclasped hands, continuing to bother you with his ridiculously beguiling eyes. He presses his lips together before sighing dramatically. 

“What?” you snap, finally shutting your book down as you look at him. 

“I wanna go out.” he looks up at you in an effort to make his huge physique smaller than it really was. 

“Then go out. You’re a big boy.” you breathe. 

“You just said that I’m a child.” he coos, mimicking a five-year-old’s voice. 

“Stop that.” you glare at him. Mat props himself back and laughs, “Come on. I’m bored.” 

You open your book again just as you reply in a tone that Mat’s getting used to hearing. “Boredom doesn’t give you the right to pester me, Barzal.” 

And as an exchange, he speaks in the same tone rather mockingly, “And so is that attitude, Y/L/N.” 

“Come on, y/n. Let’s go out.” he now pleads, looking up at you with what seems to be his worst impression of a ‘puppy eye’.

“Fine.” you finally concede and you see Mat’s beaming smile instantly. 

“Where’d you want to go?” you ask as you take your reading glasses off.

“Dunno.” He shrugs, obviously teasing. 

On the edge of being irritated, you say, “Are you kidding me?”

“Grandma.” he mumbles before saying, “Do you have anything you want to do? And please don’t say book hunt.”

You suppress a smile and maintain your composure. “I’m craving for pancakes right now but I also wanna drink. Go to a bar or something.”

He nods in agreement. Already stitching his game plan.

“We can do both.”  he bobs his all too fine brows.

He didn’t have a hard time getting you on board with his spontaneity. You actually haven’t gone out in a while and the thought of a possible night out doesn’t seem to be so bad of an idea.

You’ve been with Mat to parties and while the two of you don’t mingle as much as the other guys did, he does know his way around the club. The dance floor, however, he tries. He really does.

For about an hour Mathew waited patiently in the living room as he scrolled endlessly on instagram liking a few photos and laughing at posts the fans tag him occasionally. His eyes were peeled away from the screen when he heard the door to your room click. His irises trail onto your body even if he didn’t plan to originally. 

Mathew, albeit dressed simply in his black turtleneck sweater and a beige overcoat exudes just about the right ‘swag’ (as per how he puts it) to stop you in your stupor. Although what you didn’t know was how you weren’t any different in his eyes. You were dressed quite nicely in a black lace bodysuit with a pair of blackpants accentuated by the black boots you usually wear on a night out. Your coat was slung on your forearm whilst you held your clutch purse in your hand so you could close the door with the other. 

“What?” you blink just as you look down to eye yourself. Feeling a tad self-conscious under his gaze.

Mat immediately breaks it off. He clears his throat, pretending to wipe off the non-existent dust on the accent table. 

“What?” he mirrors with an arched brow.

You shrug off his demeanor, snatching your keys from the accent table before putting it in your purse. 

“Have you called a lyft already?” he nods, absentmindedly scratching his temple. 

“You ready? You look— decent.” He says, trying to act casual and distant when he gives you the compliment.

Not noticing the unfamiliar look his eyes had, you return the compliment and say,  “And so do you. Good job for not looking like you came straight out of an H&M catalogue.” you wink at him with a grin. A thing which was then reciprocated by a deadpan look on his end. 

Before he could even come up with yet another clever way to come at you, you start walking towards the door, looking at him once as you motion the way by curling your finger.

“Haul ass, buddy.”

𖥸

10:15 PM 

Mat decided to bring you to the usual place he goes to when he wants to be alone and just enjoy a couple of beers while he chats with River, the bartender he eventually befriends after years spent drinking in solitude. 

The bar had a rustic feel filled with wine barrels in the corner of the room. The seats were leather (mind you, it wasn’t the kind that gets easily worn out through time) and everything looked new to you regardless of all the vintage stuff displayed articulately on the brick wall. A turntable was set on the table stacked with vinyl records, most of which were from the 70s to 80s underneath.

It was obvious that it wasn’t the kind people would know about. Aside from it being located at such a secluded street leading to the suburbs, it wasn’t the type of bar kids would want to hang out in. It only had a few customers and most of them wore suits and came with company. No one really gave a hoot when you walked in with Mathew, aka, the face of the New York Islanders. Which is basically the reason why Mat kept coming back to the place. He felt comfortable and at peace. Almost in retrospect to being at home hanging with his father. 

“I can’t believe this place exists.” you say, mouthing your thanks to River as he hands you both of your drinks. The man that’s definitely aged like fine wine smiles, nodding his head over to Mat who was doing the same before he headed back to mix another set of drinks. 

“Me neither.” he grins, reminiscing about the time he’s found the small pub by accident. 

“This place looks expensive though.” you whisper, making Mathew laugh. 

“Well, it kinda is.” he sheepishly chuckles. “River’s filthy rich.”

“Is he really?” your mouth falls and you look back over the build of the old man. The way his salt and pepper hair was neatly slicked back makes quite a compelling case for what Mat had just said. 

Mat eventually explains who he was. Apparently, he was just another bored fancy man who happened to love making people drop dead and drunk with his over the top mixes. His dark deep set brown eyes are quite of a crowd favourite too. Case in point, the group of ladies seated from across you and Mathew.

“Hey.” you absentmindedly call on Mat who had just sipped on his drink. “I know what we should do.”

“All right.” he puts the glass down, “Lay it on me.”

“Let’s fix you up with one of the girls over there.” you suggest, leaning towards his body so you could get a better view upfront. Mat does not move and instead follows your finger subtly pointing at the other end of the room.

“What’s with the sudden fixation of getting me bagged tonight, huh?” he smirks, shaking his head at the idea of having to go home with some random girl. You give him a side eye as you move away from him. 

“Fixation is an overstatement. We’ll be here long enough for us to get sick of each other.” you explicitly told him. 

Mat eyes you intently. Searching if there was even the slightest doubt in your eyes. 

Long enough to get sick of each other. 

He clears his throat instead and looks across the room. “Which one?”

A gleeful cheer erupts from you just before you look over the girls in question. “What’s your type?” you ask him, not sparing a glance.

Mat looks down on you underneath the bar lights accentuating your features. Your eyes had a certain glint in them that Mat still can’t get a grasp on. Something that was just enough to spark something inside him. He didn’t want to overthink it nonetheless. It must have been just the lights. 

Once Mat sensed that you were about to look at him he immediately turned his gaze forward, squinting his eyes a little pretending to check out the women you’ve been eyeing for the last minute. 

“I don’t really have a type.” he shrugs, casually taking the fragile glass to his mouth. 

You dismiss what he said at once, “Do I look like a child to you? Just answer it.”

Mat shakes his head, “I told you. I don’t have one. If we vibe then we vibe. Simple as that.” 

You did not believe him but you decide to drop it off. Instead, you look back and return to your new found mission. Across the bar, seated were three girls busy talking to each other. 

“Got it.” you tell Mat, nodding your head towards the clueless girl sitting right across from where Mathew was. “The one in the center.” you add. “The one wearing a white bodycon.”

“She’s pretty.” he nods, validating your taste as his potential wingman. “Nice smile.”

Your hand met a firm slap on the table as you went on cheering for him. “Well? Go then!” you give him a nudge, taking it back quickly when you feel a slight hesitation on his part, “Don’t tell me you need me to introduce you?”

He takes the remainder of his glass and shaked off the kick it had in his throat. “You just sit and watch, babe.”

You do as you’re told and lean towards the bar, your elbow carrying all your weight whilst you sip on your half-full martini. 

Mathew’s stance and the way he carries himself immediately caused the girls to notice him coming. Of course, you weren’t really surprised. You watch him approach her,– reading along the words leaving his mouth. There was an exchange of proper ‘hello’s’ as Mat introduced himself to the girls. He reaches out his hand and the curly noirette in the center gives him a firm shake. 

Mat’s eyes momentarily locked with yours just as you see their hands linger in the air— tangled long enough for him to make a quick segway. He winks your way as he sees you grin from your seat, shaking your head just after you felt the need to take a deep breath. A thing you assumed to be because of the drink. So, while Mat leads the girl to one of the empty booths and sits across from her, you call on River and ask for another drink. 

Mathew must have lost track of time by the second drink he shared with Zoe. He learns that she’s from upstate and was just on the island to visit her friends. She’s still working on her major at NYU; coincidentally in the same field as Lianna so that was one of the things they’ve talked about first hand. She wasn’t really into sports so Mat steered clear of his job because he didn’t want to bore her. 

“So…” Zoe smiles and tucks her hair behind her ear. “What’s the deal with you and the girl you’re with?” 

By the time she asked about you, only then did Mat remember who he was originally with. 

“Oh! She’s—” he looks over to where you’re seated only to find you laughing— no giggling with a man that was obviously a few years older than you. He’s wearing a neat black suit and a button down shirt with a couple of its first buttons opened. Zoe sees him frown, evidently losing his train of thought. 

She calls him with her sweet voice, “Mat?” 

“Yeah?” he absentmindedly answers, not wanting to take his eyes off of your hand that was now gently pushing the man’s arm whilst the two of you continue to burst into laughter. 

“Are you okay?” she asks.

What’s so funny? 

Finally, Mat hears Zoe’s distant voice that eventually took him back to his seat.

“Oh. Y-Yeah.” he apologetically smiles. “Sorry. What were you saying again?” 

She hesitates to ask about you after taking a quick glance your way upon seeing the way Mathew looked at you. Nevertheless, she decides to go for it.

“Aren’t you two together? I don’t want to come off strong here or anything. It’s just that I don’t want to get in between something if there ever is.” 

Mat looks at you one more time and as if you’ve felt his eyes all along you turn your way and meet his gaze. You shoot him a quiet smile, eyeing the guy sitting beside you, mouthing what he assumes to be an exaggerated “So hot!” on your end. He reciprocates your smile and gives you an approving nod.

Once you looked away, that’s the only time Mat finally answered the woman waiting patiently for his attention. 

“What?” Mat shakes his head wildly, blowing out air off his lips defensively. “No no no. We’re just friends. She’s my roommate actually.” he shrugs you off his mind and instead tries to put his entire focus on her. 

The remaining hours were spent with you and Mat getting along with your respective potential hook-ups. Not that it wasn’t the endgame either of you were hoping for at the back of your minds. 

He’s got to admit that Zoe was the kind of girl he’d be interested in. Another fact he’s kept a mental tab not to mention to you because he knows you’ll just get cocky. 

She was sweet and obviously eloquent. He knows she’s way smarter than he’ll ever be. But out of all those qualities, she was just as passionate at her craft as someone he likes to think he knows well enough. And that alone made a small smile creep on his lips. 

Nonetheless, despite all the aforementioned, Mathew found himself a bit more reserved than he usually is whenever he gets to meet and talk to his potential ‘lady friends’ as how you’ve put it countless times. He just wasn’t his exact self.  And he was beginning to question it. 

There were no fancy hockey plays thrown subtly into the conversation. Neither mentions of golfing nor over the top league events.  No butchered french pet names swiftly tucked in his sentences. And no endless questions that would eventually lead to something along the lines of ‘Do you want to get out of here?’

Well, not until Zoe’s friends got up their seats and she told him herself. 

“Hey. The girls and I are meeting up with some friends in Brooklyn. D’ya wanna come?” 

Mat���s eyes trail down to her hand now gently caressing his. He raises both his brows thinking of a possible ‘out’ because he wasn’t sure if it was a smart thing to leave you alone with a stranger. 

He hums, “Sure.” 

Zoe shows him a delighted smile before eventually sliding out of the booth to walk towards the bar she and her friends were formally seated. 

“I gotta use the restroom first. Please excuse me.” she gives him a nod before going back to chatting with her friends. 

You, on the other hand, see Mat leave the table aiming for an archway you presume to be where the loo was. 

“Hey,” you call the man whose name you’ve already forgotten. Your pause was long enough for him to acknowledge the chances that you actually did forget who he was. Obviously.

“Chris.” The man in his early 30s answers with a submitting grin. 

You shyly laugh, squeezing his forearm as you try to apologize for forgetting. 

“Would you mind if I use the restroom?” you politely ask. 

“No, not at all.” he replies and immediately stands to help you get on your feet. Gentleman. 

Once you are in front of the men’s room, you anxiously wait for your wingman. You hug your purse close to your chest. Not a whole minute after, the door finally opens and you meet Mat’s irises with quite a gleeful look. 

A look he wasn’t a fan of for he knew what’s about to come next. 

“Are you taking off?” you eagerly ask, almost hopping on your feet. 

Mat eyes you from head to toe, looking for signs that would stink from a drunk y/n. When he sees none, that’s when he decides to say that he was. 

“Mkay good. I’ll be on my way too. Chris is taking me to New Jersey.” you tell him, briefly looking through the archway to see if there were people listening.

Once you know you’re clear, you lean towards Mat, your lips dangerously close to the sensitive skin of his ear. Mat feels your heated breath sending a familiar tingle up his spine. “I’ll get to ride a yacht tonight.” you bite your lower lip and giddily smile as if you were a cheeky 16 year-old usually depicted in a coming of age movie. 

“Who’s Chris?” Mat, in spite of taking rounds observing you all night, finds the need to ask. “And why are you coming with him to NJ?” he further questions. 

“Uh– okay, dad.” you step back for a second. You let out a scoff, checking if he was being serious about it. “I thought we’re supposed to go get laid tonight? Weren’t you about to take off with that girl yourself?” 

Mat averts your gaze and starts to scratch the corner of his brow. “Well yeah. It’s just that— he looks sketchy.” he pauses, “plus… isn’t he a little too old for you?” 

You roll your eyes as you’ve already expected to hear the words from him. 

“He’s 31. He’s not that old.” you say rather defensively so you turn the ball back on his court. “And what if he was?  Didn’t you ask one of the moms out??”

Mat’s eyes widens and you try to bite back a laugh. He whispers with a biting tone, trying to save himself. “She didn’t look like one! I’m gonna kill Beau I swear to god.”

“Come on Barz. Don’t be such a killjoy. Text me if you need anything, okay? Wrap things up while you’re at it.” you say at once. Mat doesn’t get the chance to talk you out of such a stupid idea because before he even could, you’ve already planted a kiss on his cheek and started walking away. 

Mat waited for the sound of the heavy doors of the bar, signaling that you and your friend have gone, before stepping back to where Zoe was. She waves him near the coat closet. 

“Hi.” Mat greets her friends before eventually turning his attention on the unsuspecting lass. She meets her with a smile (just like what she’s been doing all night). The same smile, however, drops the second Mat opens his mouth. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” 

Zoe nods and willfully abides, letting Mat take her gently by the arm. 

“What’s up?” she innocently asks. 

“Something came up.” he says a little too fast than what he’d originally intended. He was going to let her down either way might as well get it over with and rip up the asshole band-aid. 

“Oh.” she says in a tone Mat knew that she completely understood. 

“No worries.” she looks at him with a knowing look in her eyes. “I’ll see you around then.” 

He gives her a kind smile and nods. “Take care.” 

Mathew walks towards the bar, catching River’s teasing grin whilst he cleans up after the bottles left on the center of the counter. 

“What?” Mat reacts defensively, taking a seat in front of the lone bartender. River faintly shakes his head to leave just enough curiosity in Mathew’s mind. 

“You’re such a tool, old man.” the kid says aiming for the cold beer River has put away for himself. River did not mind because he’s grown fond of the star player for the past years he’s spent going on late night drinks at his bar. Years that even justifies a proper amount of time for him to know the in’s and out’s of one Mathew Barzal. 

“I haven’t said a thing.” he shrugs amidst the already wide grin on his face. 

There’s wisdom in his eyes that Mathew has always admired. He wasn’t the guy who’d want to talk about what’s going on inside his head but with how River’s pub seems to be just the right place, he eventually concedes and takes a shot to pick on the old man’s brain.

“Come on, spill it out. I know you’re going to anyway.” Mat gives in, running his thumb on the moist label of the bottle. 

River wipes his hands before resting it atop the counter. “Well, it’s just that– I ain’t used to seeing you turn down ladies like that too often. And you’re definitely not one to stick around watching me clean up.”

Mat stays silent for a moment, as if to gather the exact reason as to why he chose to stay. He still has a long way to go before figuring that one out. He wasn’t exactly as sharp as he was on the ice.

“I don’t know, man.” he chuckles tirelessly, “I guess I wasn’t in the mood. That’s all.”

“You?” River shots a brow and dismisses him, shaking his head. When Mat doesn’t answer, he carefully picks on his choice of words and lays it down carefully for him. After all, Mathew should have known that River was old enough to not know what’s going on.

“Though I gotta be honest with you, hijo. Never imagined you’d bring someone here.” he starts. 

What must have been a shot in the dark for the old man was just enough to tear Mathew’s eyes away from staring at the water beads on the bottle.

“What?”

“The girl, Barz.” he says, banging on the head of the bottle to knock the cap off. “She a friend?” 

“What? Y/N?” Mat quirks his brows trailing off where River was exactly headed, “What about her?— Oh, her? Yeah, no. She’s just a friend.”

“She pretty.” he speaks in a sound accent, not wanting to let Mat know he’s growing to like catching the young lad off guard. Mathew nods casually despite the continuous blabbering. “She’s y/n. But yeah— I guess, she is pretty.” 

“Then what are you doing being just friends with a pretty girl?” River inquires, taking a sip of his beer. When he sees him trying to register what he’d just said he then adds, “Why not be with her? Date her?”

“Psh. What? Date y/n? That’s crazy.” Mat shakes his head furiously, “You’re crazy.” 

“What’s so crazy about that?” River takes offense, laughing at the child’s naivete. 

“I can’t date her. I mean— I won’t date her.” he takes the bottle to his mouth, taking a large gulp before continuing, “We’re in this weird relationship thing. A setup, actually, and it’s— it’s crazier than dating her. I swear, you of all people won’t get it.” 

“What makes you think I can’t?” he smirks, “I’ve had my fair share of crazy.” River points out despite the hesitation in Mat’s eyes. “I got all night, kid.” he adds, letting him have the floor to himself. 

“You really want in on this?” he second guesses, not wanting to bore the man with his personal life.

River leans against the brass counter just below the lit rack of vintage scotch displayed on the bar. He then gestures him to give a piece of his mind and Mat finally submits to his offer.

“We’ve been in a few… prior engagements,” he starts trying to find the appropriate word. “Well, sort of.”

River hums, not necessarily getting on the same page as him so he decides to be upfront about it.

“We’ve… slept together.” he confesses.

“So you used to date her?” the old man asks. 

“No.” he answers, “I told you we’re just friends.” 

With furrowed brows, River takes a minute. And once Mat hears an all too familiar “Oh.” he sees him break a chuckle, shaking his head at the thought of what Mat had just told him. “You kids have way too much fun these days.”

Mathew shrugs, “Hey, I warned you. Told you you wouldn’t get it.”

“Okay, make me understand something here. You two sleep together, fool around, do all that shit.” he says, “and you swear you’re not in a relationship?”

“Nope.” Mat answers with pride, popping out the word with a hard ‘p’.

“Huh.” River clicks his tongue, “How long have you two been… engaged?” 

He rolls his eyes when River uses his word, “About two months.” he answers shortly.

“Is she seeing anyone since you two started this thing? You know, casual dates, the ones I presume she’s been getting before you got her into this mess?” he asks him in a tone that only fathers would ever dare to use.

Mat thinks for a moment, trying to recall the last time he’s seen a guy pick you up for dinner besides the old man you’ve successfully bagged for the night. He firmly shakes his head no and simply says, “At least not in my recollection.”

River willfully nods, walking Mat right into the trap. “Well have you been seeing anyone lately?” he asks again, this time slipping a hint of assertion. He hears a crystal clear ‘no’ from the forward and that’s when he broke a goading grin. 

“And you’re telling me you two aren’t together?” he asks yet again, getting on Mat's nerves as he continues to flood him with biting queries, building up the final point he was about to break on Mathew.

“Rivs, for the hundredth time, no. We are not.” he clarifies. 

Mat watches River pour himself a glass of scotch, still wearing a smug grin. “Imma give you a piece of advice, yeah?” he smiles rather teasingly and doesn’t wait for Mat to rebut, “I’m a happily married man so I don’t know a single squat about dating nowadays, but if you’re telling me that you kids aren’t sleeping with anyone else but yourselves? Looks like a damn relationship to me.”

With his brows all quirked in confusion (and denial in the very least), Mathew gathers all his might just so he could refute whatever madness River was trying to inflict on him and screw him up in the head. But before he could even open his mouth, the sound of the heavy doors was all it took to tear up both River’s and Mat’s attention.

“Hi.” you say the moment you were welcomed by unsuspecting men talking by the bar. River acknowledges you by raising his drink, his gaze landing on Mat the moment yours did. 

“Hi.” Mathew mirrors you in an attempt to drown his already racing heart. A smile impending to break loose at any moment but he manages to suppress it. Instead of dealing with his adrenaline, he gestures for you to take a seat beside him. 

“Where’s the sugar daddy?” he laughs the moment you drag yourself from across the room, mocking every word he said. 

“His wife called when I got into his car.” you cringe.

“Oof. Lovely.” Mat makes the distinct expression on his face just before the two of you share a laugh.

“He’s not very smooth with adultery. He needs more practice.” you casually state sarcastically, clicking your tongue. 

As you find the narrative funny, you take a sip on Mathew’s beer. “How are you not drunk? You’ve been drinking way too much the entire night.”

“Well. I’ve got some things to think about—” he cuts himself off upon seeing your mouth ajar, “And no, you’re not allowed to ask because none of it concerns you.” 

“I wasn’t going to.” you dismiss him, excusing yourself to River which he gladly took as his cue to leave.

When he disappeared into the kitchen, you turned your gaze on your friend wearing another one of your mischievous grins, “Hey, wanna get pancakes?” 

“Y/N, it’s almost 3 AM.” Mat sighs, the tiring night starting to creep up to him. 

“So?” you question, swatting his hand away when you catch him checking on his watch. 

“Come on. Stop drinking that.” you insist and take the bottle from his hand before putting it over to the side. 

The two of you said your goodbyes to the lone bartender who was just starting to clean up again. River gives the two of you a nod of acknowledgement before landing a knowing look on Mathew. One that he’s thankful enough not to be discerned by you. 

As you walk alongside Mathew, he unconsciously places a hand on the small of your back— feeling it graze on the fabric of your coat as if to guide you towards the door in an almost romantic type of way. Perhaps, a way someone would behave if they were actually in a relationship. 

Mat notices your body tense but he doesn’t move an inch. Instead, his hand travels to the curve of your waist just as he leads you through the brass doors.

Once you’re out on the streets, he lets go.

𖥸

After almost half an hour of fighting over which diner is better to eat and get sober at, you and Mat decide to just try the new diner three blocks from your apartment. Being that it was an ungodly hour, the diner was good as closed when you got in. There were a few people inside and besides the student studying alone in the corner booth, the people lounging in the vacant seats were mostly just staff. Too bad they had to work the grave shift.

Mathew, who was rather preoccupied digging in his breakfast platter, gets interrupted when you call his attention. 

“So tell me,” you ask as you take a forkful of syrupy pancake into your mouth. Finally satisfying your cravings. You put the food modestly in the insides of your cheeks when you ask him a question, “What are you like on dates?” 

Mat disgustingly looks at you. You easily get what such a look meant and you immediately roll your eyes. You let your hand fall in mid-air amidst still holding a fork in it to prove a point. “I’m not trying to ask you out, dumbass. Don’t be so delusional.”

He puts his silverware down and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “Why the sudden interest?” 

“Just curious.” you simply say.

He hums, thinking about how he pulls off a first date. He then clears his throat as he takes you down that road. “First, I’m not bringing her to a 24/7 Diner.” you nearly gag. “She deserves a formal one just in case there won’t be a second date.” he explains. 

You sit there, nodding your head every now and then as he further goes on the details of how he’s like on a date. “Of course, I’d put my best foot forward all the time. Talk about her stuff more than mine and make sure she has a good time.” 

“Have you ever had a bad first date?” you curiously ask. To which he only answers with a stubborn look on his face, the one only Mat Barzal could pull off. “What? me? I don’t do bad first dates.”

“Oh, fuck off.” you flick his forehead as you laugh. The sound of his laughter echoing in your ears, drowning all the existing noise inside the lone diner.

But as the laughter dies down, Mat catches your eyes as soon as it falls on his. And just like that, there it was again, the exact same glint it had back in the bar. This time, illuminated by the pink shaded light lining up the wall accents of the diner. 

When he realizes that he’s been staring for too long, he settles on turning the tables on you. 

“How about you?” he props in his seat, “What are you like on dates?”

“You know, apart from the fact that you’re obviously into old men.” he snickers and you throw a curly fry on his forehead.

“Excuse me, I don’t.” you say sticking up for yourself.

Mat takes the curly fry that has fallen on his plate and proceeds to eat it. “Sure you do.” 

You roll your eyes, finding it hard to suppress the fact that you might actually do. “There’s a reason why women like old men, chico.”

He leans back and answers with a level headed and quite teasing reply, “And why’s that?”

“Because they’re men.” you look at him with a jerky grin as you continue, “And men, especially of River’s kind, definitely knows how to eat his french fry.”

Mat’s mouth falls wide in disbelief, appalled that you’ve actually found a way to pick up a stone and throw it straight to his face just to rub more salt on the fact that you had to teach a 23-year-old grown man how to eat cunt.

 “You’re an ass.” he says, rolling his eyes. You let out a laugh and shake your head. You were proud of yourself, sure; but showing just that is far too much for a boy’s already hurting ego. Who would have known humbling this man was such a task. 

“I’m playing! You know how to now.” you tell him, “Thanks to me, of course.”

He scoffs and takes a bite off his pancakes, “Cocky.”

“But you still haven’t answered my question.” he reminds you whilst he wipes off his lips with a napkin. 

“There’s not much to tell. You know I’m not high maintenance.” you tell him, ignoring the fact that you haven’t been on an actual date for so long you’re almost sure you’ve forgotten how to be in one. 

“I know it’s cheesy and corny but I do think it’s still in the littlest things, you know?” you sigh. Trying to remember the last relationship (date even) you had wherein those little things, the ones that are merely the bare minimum, were actually given to you. 

“You know, it’s not much, really. Maybe just a good talk without having to watch him watch me talk all night when he’s really thinking about how I’d look naked, you know what I mean?” you laugh it off, “I know, it’s stupid.”

The arrogant man sitting before you was silent for once, profusely wanting to wash the pool of melancholy he sees in your eyes. There must have been a shit ton of guys who overlooked how great of a woman you actually are just because they couldn’t stop thinking with the head in between their legs even just for a second. 

Mathew knows. And he hates that he’s been ‘that’ guy at some point. Probably until now considering him thinking with his balls on was the very thing that got the two of you here in the first place.

You take a deep breath, smiling. “Anyway, that’s better than almost getting with a married man. Right?”

“Right.” Mat laughs, his gray eyes bright under all the lights as he plays with his silverware,— devoid of how much he looked like as if he was utterly and undeniably in awe of not just the energy of the woman sitting in front of him alone nor the fact that she was by far the most unbelievable woman he’s known, but most importantly, he’s yet to realize how much in deep he’s beginning to be for the woman she actually were. 

Just as she is. 

𖥸

You left the diner a good hour before the sunrise and what must have been a quick five minute drive if you had only taken a cab, became a twenty minute foot race between you and Mathew.

You knew that walking was a bad idea but somehow, Mat’s charm and persuasive antics had a better hold than you thought you had on your very capable cognition. 

As you drag your feet into the confines of the elevator in your complex, you hear Mathew chuckling behind you with a firm hand securely placed on your waist supporting your balance. 

“You know— and not just ‘cause I’m an athlete, can I just say that you’re in a very bad shape?” he says almost a whisper in your ear, his voice low and deep.

You roll your eyes, leaning on the steel cold mirror once he pulls away, “You do it in heels then tell me who’s in a bad shape.” 

“Fair point.” he chuckles yet again, shying away. He presses the number for your floor before resting across from you. As Mat watches you catch your breath, he jokes in the hopes of breaking the ice between the two of you. 

“So…” he clicks his tongue, playful eyes looking at you, “Wanna tap?”

Disgusted to your very core, you let out a scoff just as you shake your head. “You’re fucking sick.” you laugh upon meeting his dumb grinning face. Seconds into laughter, Mat’s silence kills off the humor. The two of you exchange glances, the smiles on your faces receding into quietude. 

Mathew didn’t want to end the night letting you in the apartment not knowing what he’s been feeling the moment you’ve let him drag you out for an impromptu night out. And stupid as it was, the only thing he could think of was to slide his foot across the enclosed space embracing the two of you, nudging on your boot. You on the one hand were rather puzzled as to what caused such language. You send him a mental query by arching a brow. He lets his head fall back on the cold metal surrounding the elevator finally deciding to speak his truth.

 “I’m glad we get to hang out now. You know, just like friends do.” he genuinely says. 

“Me too.” you say, smiling. “I really had fun tonight. Thank you.”

As you meet his eyes, you see a glimmer of softness in his gaze. 

“Good thing I got bored, eh?” he says with a smirk. 

“Good thing I came back for you.” you reply.

A quiet smile parts from his lips.

“Yeah. I’m glad you did.”

It was a few seconds when you and Barzy parted from your respective walls to meet the sliding doors as it opened on your designated floor. You were pulling him closer by the tie of his coat whilst his hand was instinctively placed on your hips letting him press his body on you. Your faces were inches from each other’s, evident of not wanting to prolong the totally unplanned foreplay that’s about to go down in a communal lift. 

But just like every film you’ve watched your whole life, the inevitable cliché befalls the two of you when the next words that filled the enclosed walls you’re currently caged in came from the man who has yet to miss a morning jog. 

“What the hell is going on here?”

[corpsentry]

january: an art retrospective

i did some stuff last month (but it’s a lot of stuff and there’s a photodump + some Serious Fucking Reflection, so it’s all below the cut)

so ok, let’s start with this. here are some heads. each head has a red arrow. that red arrow is what i call the red line of the devil. it’s the slope of the face from the side of the eye to the cheekbone and then down towards the chin. up until like 2 weeks ago, i couldn’t draw it. i couldn’t fucking draw it. i would edit over that part of the face over and over again until i was frustrated and tired and i had a raging homosexual headache and it still never looked right. notice that each head is different. notice that each head looks wrong.

at the start of 2021 i finally admitted to myself, as per the image above, that i was deeply, deeply unhappy with my art. what was the problem? i dunno. but i decided i was going to fix it and i was going to do so via another one scribble a day event wherein for every day of january i would find a photo of a human head, and i would draw it.

january 1st, 2021. i was embarrassed to tweet this even on my private account where like 5 friends and a rock would see it. in retrospect, you can also see all of my bad habits emerging like dicks from a hole in the ground. it’s disproportionate. the brows look flat. the eyes are slanting upwards. the entire drawing looks flat, like this isn’t a 3d person but a caricature of one.

january 2nd, 3rd, 4th:

on the 2nd i decided to start a separate thread for doodles and applied learning. here’s the first set of tests

the rest of the week is kind of uneventful so we’re going to skip those. fast forward to january 11th

this one is especially bad. i am acutely aware, suddenly, that i am not changing anything at all. i’m stressed and miserable about it because i’m still trying to see people as people and trying to draw people that look attractive and proportionate and hot. my friend, leny, reminds me that i need to think about faces in terms of planes. i have a moment. my other friend masha sends me some links to anatomy tutorials. i have another moment.

january 11th. applied sketch

january 13th is when i start the troubleshooting process. the link above drives me mad because i’m pretty happy with the face but then i realize that there’s something very fucking wrong with the shape of the head LOL and then i realize that i’ve never had any idea what the proportion of the face to the rest of the skull is so i grit my teeth and i open a new canvas and i

bald studies. it seemed like the right thing to do. can’t draw heads? ok draw some heads. look at some photographs. i traced each photo but tried to stick to straight lines so that i could replicate the shapes more easily. i broke each face down into shapes. i thought about airplanes

i got really excited. i started doing studies, then applied studies, then stylized studies.

sketches. i’m not sure what’s going on (as always) and it’s very rough, but they look different from the sketches i did on january 2nd. that’s a start

january 16th’s daily study. looks more like a person now. juuuuuust a bit

more applied studies

on the 18th i take a break and go stare at some lips because i don’t understand how the fuck they work. again, i focus on shapes, on volume, on the fact that these things exist in 3d. holy fuck lips exist in 3d. holy fuck we are real

january 19th. i’m working on it.

january 22nd. some sketches + a daily study. it has finally occurred to me that heads can tilt up and down and that things look different accordingly. yes i was not aware of this before. yes i have been drawing for over a decade.

january 23rd. by this point after doing my daily sketch i almost always go back and do an applied study which is basically to say i drew a lot of fucking links. this one looks kind of okay. i’m kind of proud

january 25th. links. trying to make sense of everything i’ve learned

26th, 27th, 28th. daily studies

january 1st. january 31st

The End Of The Photo Dump (dab)

ok NOW i get to talk about what i discovered while studying the shit out of human beings

FIRST OF ALL, there is something precious and magical about drawing shit without the explicit knowledge that you’re going to tweet that shit out to 45 people later. it takes the burden of perception off your shoulders and that does something to you, or at least that’s my theory. i told myself i wouldn’t post any of this stuff until the end of the month (if i wanted to post it at all) and kept everything off my public social media accounts and that meant i could draw ugly as hell without worrying about who would point and laugh, which i absolutely fucking did. a lot of these are fucking trainwrecks. most of these are fucking trainwrecks. why do they look like that?? why??? this doesn’t look like the work of someone who’s allegedly been drawing since they were in kindergarten, does it?????

here’s why: because that person took a huge motherfucking swing at everything they’d ever known about art and spent a month building something new in its place. the abstract explanation is that i grew up on shoujo and weird old anime and my understanding of anatomy was unironically kamichama karin and while i love kamichama karin, when kamichama karin is your rule even if you try to break it, you’re going to end up going nowhere. “you have to know the rules to break them”, yeah? well i didn’t know shit. the abstract explanation is i’ve been miserable about my art for a few years now because i saw other people doing things effortlessly which i couldn’t and instead of going back to the basics, i tried to do what they did (not plagiarism, mind you, i mean i literally tried to copy the red line of the devil i mentioned above because i couldn’t even make that happen) and then i fucking failed.

the simple explanation is this. i had to unlearn everything, and relearn it again (like some kind of new renaissance clown, what the fuck is this?)

take this for example. all my life i’ve drawn faces in the order: eyes, nose, mouth, face shape, head. this works for some people, im aware, but it was something central to how i had always drawn, so i decentralized it. i said fuck you to the old me and changed the order up. now i start with the nose, then the eyes, mouth, the chin line, and the sides of the face. now i force myself to think about the human head as a series of parts interacting with each other instead of a bunch of disparate features which i want to look pretty.

or let’s use this zelda from last year. something about this looked wrong last october, the way something about all of my drawings looked wrong, but i couldn’t pinpoint it for hell the way i couldn’t articulate Any of my feelings about the visual arts. now, looking back, here’s what i see. that nose is sticking out far too much given how she’s not really facing very far away from the camera. that ear at the back shouldn’t be there. her forehead is too big. she doesn’t have a forehead. what the fuck is up with the shape of her head?

so apparently reject modernity embrace tradition has its roots in alt-right terminology and i’m not very horny for the alt-right (you understand), but the spirit survives here. you know sometimes you have to admit that you have no idea what the fuck you’re doing and draw people for 31 days. i’ve spent my whole life drawing stylized people and while again there are artists who have no issue with this, i veered off the track of the Good and the Holy and couldn’t get back on. i had no point of reference because i’d never thought about what an actual human being looks like, so i had no way to fix what i knew in my gut looked wrong but wouldn’t come out better.

this was hard. this was like oikawa tooru swallowing his worthless pride and admitting that ushijima wakatoshi had gotten the best of him for the last time in his high school career, but in haikyuu!! by furudate haruichi oikawa tooru fucks off to argentina and then joins the argentinean national team, and you know what, i think i’ve made it to argentina (not the team just the country). as per the golden rule of dont fucking move until you’re at least two thirds of the way through the month, i only started trying to draw Shit shit on like the 22nd or something, but i was happy with that i created. i am happy with what i’ve done. i’ve posted like 2 things this month that involve people with what i now call ~applied Knowledge~~ and they’re, like, not perfect obviously (perfection is an unattainable ideal), but i’m fucking proud of them. i didn’t spend 5 hours hunched over my laptop adjusting the red line of the devil because it’s not a devil’s line anymore. because i finally sorta get how people work. because i sat down and i said ‘we are not going to fuck with this misery shit anymore’ and then i did that. it’s just a line now.

here are 2 collages tracking my painstakingly carved out progress from january 2nd to february 2nd because i’m a slut for collages

and here’s what i’ve done to my art! the same person drew these but also Not Really! you know! for the first time in a year i don’t immediately hate what i’ve drawn. you know what guys? art is fucking fun. zelda’s forehead doesn’t scare me anymore because i know how foreheads fucking work now, and i don’t know everything, and i’m going to keep troubleshooting stuff as i go (i want to draw a skeleton. like a. i want to draw a goddamn skeleton guys) but i’m honestly and genuinely proud of what i’ve done in the span of a month, and i’m also in disbelief. i started this month-long challenge out as a last ditch effort to make peace with my art because i’ve been tired for a long time and i was ready to kick the bucket on drawing people altogether. i didn’t think anything would happen. nothing’s happened for years. i’ve been miserable for years.

this was the caption for january 1st, 2021. i was super, super fucking embarrassed and it looks like super fucking shit, but you know what, i think i did in fact triumph over the bullshit. surprisingly enough, when you put in consistent effort into something, You Will See Results. didn’t see that coming, did you? i know i didn’t.

this isn’t a success story. it’s a happiness story. i never gave a shit damn about the institute of art or whatever, i was just mad at myself because what i saw in my head didn’t match up with what was on the canvas. and now it’s getting better. now i’m calibrating the compass. now drawing not just backgrounds but also people is exciting to me, and i can stick my links in your face and tell you ‘they hot’. i’m going to keep doing that. i’m going to keep going until i drop off the side of the earth and then spiral towards mars like some kind of fairy, and then i’m going to create something beautiful.

thanks for reading. here’s a pr department link for sticking around until the end

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Two

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: im so sorry i know i need to start editing these

***

Nesta stands in her guest room at Cassian’s cabin, hands on her hips as she eyes the garbage bags full of things she managed to salvage from her old apartment. 

All of her rain-soaked clothes sit in two huge bags, waiting to go through the laundry, while her books are carefully spread out on the windowsill, floor, and anywhere they can catch enough sunlight to dry their pages. Nesta almost cried when she saw that Lorene had salvaged her few adult coloring books and the art supplies to go with them, still dry. 

For a brief moment, she’s glad she didn’t buy any physical copies of her textbooks this year— the loss of that money would be too much to bear.

A brief knock sounds at her door, and Nesta spins to find Cassian standing there, laundry basket in hand. “I can take your clothes down for you if you want,” he offers, lifting his own basket with a hand. 

Nesta’s lips tighten. He wants to do her laundry with his. Their laundry will get cleaned together. Her underwear will get tangled up with his. 

Cassian’s brow furrows. “Nesta?”

This is her new reality now. She’ll have to accept it at one point or another. 

“We can do separate loads if you want,” Cassian adds. “Feyre told me you— well, she said you might be more uncomfortable with some things than others. It’s totally fine if you don’t want your clothes mixing—”

“No.” Nesta finally snaps out of it. “I don’t care about the laundry. My clothes are right here.”

 Because she has a sneaking suspicion she might be being unintentionally bitchy again, Nesta helps Cassian drag her bags of drenched clothes downstairs. 

“I feel sort of bad for bullying you into this deal,” Cassian rambles as he dumps clothes into the washer. “Which is why I need you to know you can enforce whatever rules and boundaries you want while you’re here. If you’d prefer I never speak to you for the rest of your time here, I can manage that, too.”

Nesta looks at him with a hint of disbelief. Sometimes he says the oddest things. “I don’t want you to never speak to me again.”

There’s relief in his sagging shoulders. “That’s good,” he says as he pours out detergent. “I mean, I was a little worried you were against this so much because you hated me, but you don’t know me enough to hate me, do you?”

Hate. Nesta rolls the word over her tongue, tastes the hard corners of it, and decides it doesn’t fit for Cassian. Not even close. She wonders how to articulate this to Cassian.

She settles on: “You seem nice enough. Obviously, since you’re letting me live in your luxury mountain cabin for free. But I don’t want to set any boundaries while I’m here. You shouldn’t have to change your normal lifestyle just for a guest. Do whatever you want; it’s your place.”

Cassian presses a button and the rumble of the washing machine begins. “I want you to be comfortable,” he says, turning to face her completely. “Whatever you need, Nesta, seriously.”

For starters, it would make Nesta comfortable if he didn’t say her name like that. His earnestness makes her skin itch, but she’s not going to tell him that. 

Instead, she bravely lifts her chin. “I’ve been pushed so far out of my comfort zone that I don’t think I know how to find my way back.” The honest truth. “At this point, you might as well keep me out here.”

Cassian’s eyes narrow. “If you don’t tell me what things bother you, I’ll have to find them out for myself, you know.” It sounds like a challenge.

“Go ahead,” Nesta deadpans. She doesn’t know what Feyre’s told him about her, but contrary to popular belief, Nesta isn’t a glass doll. Sensitive, high maintenance, yes, but fragile? Never.

She turns on her heel and leaves Cassian in the laundry room, determined not to let her circumstances get the better of her while she stays here.

***

Cassian takes everything back. He’s obsessed. 

He can’t pinpoint the exact moment, how or when or why he decided he likes Nesta. Maybe it was an amalgamation of different things, but by the time she settles onto his living room couch with a box of takeout Thai food, it’s safe to say he’s fascinated.

She’s nothing like how Feyre talks about her. She’s barely anything like the woman he met at the dinner party two years ago. The problem is, Cassian hasn’t pinpointed what she’s like. There’s still too many walls in place, but here, as she slurps noodles unabashedly while watching TV with an intense fixation, she’s softer than he’s ever seen her. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t feel the need to defend herself to a sitcom; there’s no self-consciousness, only a deep focus on the Community episode they’re currently watching.

Cassian splits his focus between offering commentary in an attempt to make Nesta laugh and observing her reactions from the corner of his eyes. A few things he’s noticed so far: 1) Her cheeks bulge like a squirrel’s when they’re full of food; she seems to have no shame about this. 2) She isn’t inclined to respond to Cassian when he makes comments on the show, but the corners of her mouth tilting up imply that she likes it anyway. 3) She watches sitcoms like she’s studying for a final exam about them. 

When the episode finally ends, she turns to him and glances at his hands. “Are you going to eat that?” she says. 

Cassian glances down at his untouched container of food, a little surprised, but hands it over to her without a fight. He can’t pretend it doesn’t do something to him to see her eyes light up over something as simple as curry and rice. 

Nesta’s poking her chopsticks around the box when she notices Cassian watching. “What?” she says, immediately on the defensive.

“You eat funny,” he admits. Her brows furrow so deeply he thinks they might create a permanent indentation. He’s quick to add, “It’s adorable. Seriously.” It isn’t something he would have said yesterday, but he’s taking Nesta’s words from the laundry room to heart. He won’t put a damper on his personality as long as she can handle it. 

Her hand comes up to self-consciously touch her cheek, but she quickly drops it. “Play the next episode,” she says as she picks up her chopsticks again, and that’s the end of that.

***

Cassian wastes no time coming up with ways to push Nesta out of her comfort zone, just as he promised. The next morning, he greets her downstairs in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. Nesta takes a long, slow blink at his bare torso, muscled arms, and brown skin, and turns around to get started on making breakfast. It’s not good enough— he catches a glimpse of her reddened cheeks when she reaches for the milk container anyway.

It’s only until they’re both settled in the living room after dinner that he realizes he doesn’t have the upper hand he thought he did. 

Nesta is stretched out on her stomach on the Persian rug in an oversized tee and nothing else. Her bare legs swing in the air behind her, and she’s listening to music and coloring. 

Cassian’s unanswered emails sit abandoned on the phone in his lap. He truly can’t stop staring; there’s just too much to absorb.

For starters, she wears glasses. Big, round, gold-rimmed glasses that are almost slipping off her nose at the moment. That revelation alone is so affecting that he has to quickly move on to other, smaller details. Like the sound of her uncapping different markers and filling in smooth lines on the page before her. Cassian feels a desperate desire to see what she’s coloring. Her hair is up in a ponytail, and her legs…

Cassian can’t say that ever since he first took notice of the beauty mark at the corner of Nesta’s lush mouth that he hasn’t wondered where else on her body she might be hiding little moles and freckles. He just never expected to get an answer so soon. Because right there, where her shirt rumples up to reveal her bare thigh, is the smallest dark spot. 

He wants to put his mouth on it. 

His own thoughts take him by surprise, and he realizes he’s gripping his phone so hard the screen might crack. 

He uncurls his fingers from the phone and squeezes his eyes shut against the wave of desire crashing into him. Desire and something else, something achingly fond and frustrated at the same time.

“Cassian?” The sound of his name has his eyes snapping open. Nesta’s watching him, brow furrowed. “Are you feeling okay?” she asks.

He feels stupid for trying to play this push-and-pull game with Nesta, because it’s barely even started and he’s already losing. “I’m gonna go put a shirt on,” he mutters, moving to get up.

Nesta’s lips turn down a little. “And ruin the view?” She says it completely seriously, not a hint of slyness to her words.

Cassian’s ass falls back into his seat in pure surprise. His eyes widen. “Was that a joke?” Did Nesta Archeron just make a joke?

Her frown turns deeper. “I don’t think so. Was it funny?”

“It was teasing.”

“Then it wasn’t a joke.” She shrugs and returns back to her coloring. “If you put a shirt on, I’m putting my pants on,” she says without looking up. 

Cassian has absolutely no idea what he’s gotten himself into. But he doesn’t move from the couch for the rest of the evening. 

***

By the end of the weekend, Nesta has gotten the hang of being around Cassian. There are several occasions in those first couple of days— slips of the tongue, really— where she pauses in trepidation, worried she’s said or done too much. She is always doing too much. But then Cassian grins, or laughs, or as of more often lately, teases her right back, and her muscles can relax again. 

He has also relaxed around her. Nesta knows that quiet front he put up when they first met was partly for her benefit, because the more comfortable they become with each other, the more he reminds her of the Cassian Feyre’s always talking about. And yet, the person he is with her is nothing like the person she’s seen hanging around Feyre’s inner circle. This person doesn’t make her feel excluded or ignored. It’s the exact opposite— she hasn’t been on the receiving end of this much male attention since Tomas. 

And as much as it surprises her to like it so much, she’s not in the mood for his particular brand of teasing at seven in the morning on a Monday. 

She stumbles into the kitchen fully dressed and more than a bit disgruntled, needing the strongest cup of coffee available to get through her morning classes today. Cassian is already sitting at the island with his laptop, and raises his brows to see her up this early. He dares to smile at her before the sun is even fully up. “Glad to see you woke up ready to play, Nesta.” 

Nesta almost throws her empty mug at his head. “Don’t talk to me,” she says, thumping her mug down beside the coffeemaker. 

Taunting becomes questioning as he eyes her outfit. “You have somewhere to be at this hour?”

“I’m a law student,” she grumbles, punching buttons on the coffeemaker. “I have morning classes three days a week.” It’s unacceptable, but it isn’t the worst thing she’ll go through as she tries to get her J.D.

Cassian sits up straight at that. “Who’s taking you to class?” Her car is still in for repairs, and she has yet to rent one to make up for it.

“I’m Ubering,” she tosses over her shoulder.

“That’s ridiculous,” Cassian says. “I’ll drive you.”

Nesta spins around at that. “No way in hell.” She throws whatever bite she has into her refusal. 

Cassian is unfazed. “It’s on my way to work.”

“You work from home.” He’s not even dressed.

“Then today is the day I’ll make a stop at corporate headquarters. My subordinates get to see my pretty face for once, you get to go to class, and we all win.” He grins, and in this moment Nesta truly hates his grin. It lights up his whole face in a way that should be illegal. He’s probably robbed banks with that grin. 

Nesta doesn’t have the brain capacity to argue with him. She doesn’t even feel like criticizing the fact that at twenty-seven, Cassian runs the entire security division of Night Court Inc. thanks to the help of the CEO, also known as his adoptive brother.

She’s never met anyone who makes nepotism look so good.

Grabbing her steaming coffee mug and taking a deep sip, unflinching at the feeling of her tastebuds being burned away, she meets Cassian’s expectant gaze. “Get dressed.”

***

When Cassian texts to ask her when she’s getting out of class, she doesn’t expect him to actually show up outside the law building with drinks and a paper bag of food. She has to stop and glance around for a moment, as if he could possibly be here for somebody else. 

Approaching him cautiously, Nesta takes the cup holder from his hand and inspects the contents. A green tea and a rainbow-colored slushie. She looks back up at Cassian, and he smiles. “Shall we?”

They end up settling under the shade of an oak tree on the lawn outside where her Principles of International Law class is held. “So how was your day?” Cassian asks as he bites into a burrito. 

Nesta can’t remember the last time someone asked her that and sounded genuine about it, and she almost doesn't know how to answer. “It's noon,” she says.

“Fine. How was your last four hours?”

“Nothing more interesting than yours.” She eyes his outfit at that. She’s never seen Cassian in this manner. Work Cassian wears expensive buttondowns tucked into slacks. Work Cassian must use some kind of fancy product on his hair to make it so flowy, because for the first time ever, he looks exactly like the amount of money he makes. “You look so...adult. I’d almost buy it if you didn't have the taste palate of a five year old.” Nesta sips from her tea.

He actually rolls his eyes at her. “You wish you had what it takes to handle an every-flavor-slushie.” Because that's what he’s drinking, a heart attack in a 32 ounce cup. 

“That's bait, and I’m not falling for it,” Nesta says through a mouthful of burrito. 

“You don't need to.” He offers the drink out to her. “Try it.” 

Nesta stares at the cup, chewing slowly. Usually the thought of sharing a straw with someone would disgust her, but— 

She just wants to know how it tastes. Swallowing quickly, she grabs the drink. “Whatever,” she mutters, and wraps her lips around the red straw. 

Cassian watches intently as she takes a deep pull. Ten different flavors hit her tongue at once, and she thinks her brain spasms. She's too tough to make a face, and swallows the slushie like it's nothing.

“You like?” Cassian looks hopeful.

Nesta slams the cup down. “It’s disgusting. My point was proven.”

He laughs. “Weak.”

More easy moments pass like this before he says, “I wish you came around Feyre’s more often. I could have gotten to know you earlier.”

Nesta stills, food halfway to her mouth. “What do you mean?”

Cassian shrugs. “It just seems odd that we’ve talked more in the last three days than in the last three years I’ve known of you. Why don’t you hang out with Feyre like Elain does?”

She stiffens, and considers whether the conversation is even worth continuing. “Feyre’s always with you guys,” she chooses her words carefully. “There’s rarely time left for me.”

She waits for Cassian to tell her that sharing exists, and that she’s allowed to be at Feyre’s place with Feyre’s friends at the same time, but he just watches her patiently. Waiting for her to go on. 

“Besides, I used to come over all the time before my sister moved to Velaris. You were there, too.”

“I was?” That gets his attention; he drops his food and turns to face her fully. “What are you talking about?”

Nesta nods, but an odd, old feeling is bubbling up in her chest. It tastes hard and a little sad. “I doubt you noticed, but I was there. In the background while you guys got drunk or laughed together.”

He huffs an odd sort of laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. I would have noticed you from a hundred foot radius from Feyre’s apartment. We’ve only seen each other twice before this weekend.”

Nesta is caught between disbelief and disappointment, but she hides it well with a scoff. “We’ve only spoken to each other twice, idiot. I’ve seen you plenty of times.”

Cassian looks like she just came up to him with scientific evidence that the sky is green and grass is blue, and he can’t wrap his mind around it. “That just doesn’t make sense,” he says.

Nesta raises a brow. “Are you implying I’m lying?”

He shakes his head quickly. “No, but— it’s like you’re saying I failed to notice a fucking lion in the room every time I didn’t see you. It’s just not something someone fails to notice. It’s impossible not to notice!” He throws his hands up.

You’re impossible not to notice. Nesta has no idea what to make of that, or whether she should be insulted or not. He didn’t say it with the same backhanded tone as so many of the people she knew in high school, but it didn’t sound like high praise, either. On the other hand, the words are so ironic they’re almost funny.

She settles for a shrug and begins sweeping up her napkins and trash. “Well, it isn’t impossible for a lot of people.” The look she throws him says clear enough, Including you.

He works his jaw, seeming upset, but helps Nesta up from the ground anyway. Walks her all the way back to his truck in near-silence and drives them home.

A/N: you’d think the ‘ready to play’ line was a cute reference but i actually just suck at writing banter so i needed to borrow from sarah.

tagging: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy

if you want to be added or removed please send an ask or dm!

[argumentl]

The Freedom of Expression Ep 16 - UFO expert's recommendation as the Japan Air Self Defense Force sets up Space Operations Squadron.

K: Hi, this is Dir en grey's Kaoru, starting this week's installment of The Freedom of Expression. Joe san, Tasai san, welcome.

J: You looked at us the opposite way then.

K: I did (laughs)

J: I don't mind though.

K: Hahaha.

J: Im sorry to be so pedantic.

K: No, i thought the same myself.

J: I just wondered whether you'd forgotten our names, or whether you were a bit tired.

T: He's probably tired.

J: I was a bit concerned *laughs*

K: You got me.

J: I just noticed it, so..

K: How have you been recently?

J: Well, how? hmm, well..

K: Its still around the middle of April now, as we record this, right? The shops are starting to open again. We are still in...what was it, a state  of emergency..

J: It hasn't been lifted in Tokyo.

K: But the stores are slowly starting to operate again if you look around. Ramen places are really busy and such. But, how has it been for you guys?

J: Well, ive been cooking for myself as much as possible. Buying stuff from the grocers, and making salad and stuff every day. I don't have a frying pan though.

T: You don't have a frying pan??

J: No.

K: Do you have a microwave?

J: I do have a microwave. But a frying pan...well, recently, i bought some eggs, and tried to make fried eggs, but i had to cook them in a steel pan.*T laughing a lot* And when I tried to scrape them out, the yolk got destroyed. *K laughs* It was chaos.

T: How have you survived this far in life?

J: No, I mean I usually eat out, so this is a first for me at 52 years old, this self catering lifestyle.

T: I have a special pan for cooking eggs, its designed especially for eggs (tamagoyaki).

J: Really?

K: Oh, that square type?

T: Yeah, yeah.

K: Ehh!

J: Really?

T: I keep it really clean, and make sure I don't use it for anything other than eggs.

K: Oh, so do you cook a lot?

T: I do, yeah.

J: Kaoru, can you cook?

K: Do I look like I can? *laughs*

J: You don't, you don't. *everyone laughs loudly* You don't at all, sorry.

K: I can manage fried vegetables and stuff like that.

J: Oh, well, you are probably better than me then.

K: But honestly, I havn't cooked anything in years.

T: *To J* If you say he's better than you, that puts you at a super low level! *K laughs*

J: Well, now you mention it, maybe we are about the same level.

K: A long time ago, when I first came to Tokyo, I made curry once.

J, T: Oohh?!

K: Yeah..And with curry, if you let it sit for one night, its supposed to taste better the next day.

J: Yeah, the flavour deepens.

K: When I checked on it the next day, it had grown mould. *the others laugh a lot*

T: How?

K: I don't know.

J: What did you put in it?

K: Just the normal stuff...curry cubes and stuff.

T: It grew mould after a day...?

K: It did, yeah.

J: Ehhh? By the way, did you eat any of it on the day you made it?

K: No, because I thought it would taste better after leaving it for a day. Also, it was actually kind of watery. Maybe I got the measurements wrong. So I thought if I leave it for a day, it would thicken up, but it grew mould.

J: *laughing* Wow. If you cooked it properly, it wouldn't grow mould unless there was something wrong with it though, would it?

T: Yeah, exactly.

J: Thats incredible.

T: Yeah, were you living somewhere funny?

K: Haha, the place?

J: Lets do this sometime. Lets have a curry party with Kaoru making the curry. 

T: Oh, yeah.

K: Um, in my blog magazine TheTheDay, I appealed for ideas of what people want me to do, and people said they want me to cook.

J, T: Ehhh.

J: Will you do it? Get your revenge?

K: Revenge? *laughs*

J: Curry revenge. We'd have to have a doctor on stand-by though. *K laughs* We'd end up with curry poisoning. Everyone who ate it would collapse one by one.

K: It would be dangerous.

J: It would, it would.

K: Okay, so today...Tasai san.

T: Yes, so..uh..finally we've reached this era! Finally!

J: What is it? What happened?

T: Well, uh, on May 18th, for the first time, the Japan Air Self Defense Force (JASDF) started a specialist division to monitor regions in space, the Space Operations Squadron.

J: At last!

T: Its like Space Battleship Yamato, its as if that kind of old sci-fi is finally becoming real in this current Reiwa era. Well, actually, its not really like Yamato. What they are really doing is keeping an eye on space junk, and watching for any suspicious looking man-made satellites. To begin with they will ????*1, and by 2026, they say they want to put thier own satellites into orbit too. Its true that America, Russia, and China are leaders in this field, but its like Japan has also started to think about self defence in terms of space too.

J: I see. This is quite serious news then, isn't it.

T: Well, Tokyo sports always has a different take.

J, K: *laugh*

J: Of course.

T: So, in response to the inauguration of this devision, a UFO expert had one thing he wanted to say, which was...well, there is the 'scramble', yes? A kind of emergency take-off, if for example, missles are heading towards domestic land, or if mysterious sightings*2 happen, there is stuff like this. And in 2018, the JASDF actually had 999 scrambles, where they saw something they thought was dangerous, and had to take off immediately. So, of those, 638 cases involved Chinese vessels, 340 cases involved Russian, and 18 cases were classed as 'other'. This UFO expert thinks these might be UFOs, so with the creation of this new devision, he says they could check to see if they actually are UFOs.

J: By the way, what is the Japanese government's stance on the existence of UFOs? It seems like America already thinks they exist, and are taking some action, right?

K: There is a lot of???*4

J: Yeh, on the news. I havn't watched it properly, but what do they think again?

T: ????

K:????

J????*5

T: The Japanese government hasn't clearly confimed whether or not they think UFOs are real or not.

J: Hmm, Kaoru what do you think? Do UFOs exist or don't they?

K: Well, I want them to exist. I like reading about them.

J: Well, its fun isn't it?

T: While I've been working at Tokyo Sports, we've had quite a few reports on photos people have taken of UFOs. Um, you know Hyper media creator Takashiro Tsuyoshi..?

J: Ahh, Takashiro san.

T: When he reported...where was it Australia, Byron Bay..or something. He went there for a festival, and he showed me a photo of a UFO that he took while he was there. And there really was a kind of triangle shaped UFO looking thing on it. And when he showed it to an expert, they said after about 2 seconds, 'Ah, yes, this is a UFO', without even checking properly. *the others laugh*.

J: You'd want them to analyze it a bit more

K: It seems too easy, right? Like, ah, yeh yeh.

T: Yeh, thats a UFO..

J: Saying its a UFO that quickly...

T: According to this expert, if you see a UFO, a big change will happen in your life....and then straight after that he ????*6 and stuff like that happened...Also, the former actress, who turned to that religious cult..

J: Oh, the Happy Science cult.

T: Yeh, Sengen Yoshiko. She captured footage of a UFO in Toyama, and showed it to me, so I kind of think they are real.

J: Have either of you ever seen a UFO yourselves?

K: I've seen things where I've thought, what is that?!. Like...*imitates zig zag movement in the sky*

T: There is something isn't there.

J: There are things that move like that, aren't there. They are different from shooting stars, and airplanes couldn't move in that way. I've wondered what they are.

K: And when you try to catch it on your smartphone or something, you can't, can you?

T: I just remembered! I did catch a UFO on my smartphone. I went to Mexico once to do a story.

K: Didn't you mention that before?

T: Oh, maybe I did, on the radio. Well, when i was in Mexico, what is it..when the sun takes a long time..

J: The summer solstice?

T: Yeh, on that day, we climed to the top of a big rock, and held hands with all the local people. At that time we took loads of photos of the sky, and when we checked later, they showed a UFO.

J,K: Ehh?

T: Yeh, and I don't know the first thing about it. Im in the club of people who've photographed a UFO.

J: A UFO was close to you....Isn't this the right time for him to come out? That guy?

Kami:.....

K: He's not coming.

Kami: Um..

J: He's here, he's here.

Kami: We're talking about UFOs right? When I saw that the JASDF had started a space army, I was excited. And when I wondered what they would get up to, it said they would be picking up space junk..

T: *laughs*

Kami: Its like when we lost at the world cup, and picked up all the garbage, then went home. So I was a bit shocked at what was written.

K: But thats just the starting point, right?

T: Yeah, starting with the little things, moving steadily.

J: But, hey, while they say that, they might be carrying out some bigger project behind the scenes.

K: Well, yeah.

T: Thats right.

J: Kami, what do you think about UFOs?

Kami: I've never seen one.

J: Oh, you havn't?

K: But from your perspective, do UFOs exist?

Kami: Do they exist?...Im not sure.

K:.*laughs*

J: He's not very articulate, is he? This is different from when he was talking about mahjong!

K: *laughs*

J: He never stopped when he was talking about mahjong. Losing 30,000 and such. Coming into Tasai san's conversation that much..He's changed completey since last time. A poor response, Kami. Hey, but what is it?...Can't gods transcend space-time?

Kami: Im not sure.

J: Wait, you're not sure?

Kami: Space-time? Well, I can't talk about it, cause I'll get into trouble if I do.

J: Ah, if you tell us?

K: *laughs*

T: Is this a new organisation?

K: An organisation, right?

J: Gods have them too.

K: They probably have unions, right?

Kami: Yes, yes. *K laughs*

T: Someone more powerful than Kami will be onto him.

K: Yeah, he'll be stopped.

Kami: But the gods know this, theres nothing faster than light, right?

J, T: Ahh

Kami: Did you know that?

J: Yes, I did.

Kami: Yeah, thats it. Theres nothing faster than light, yeh. Thats the thing. Do you know who decided that? It was a god.

J: Ohh.

T, K: Eh?

Kami: Not me, one of my distant relatives.

J: Distant relatives? *laughs* One of the gods in the group?

K: It wasn't himself, but..

Kami: Yes, thats it.

J: Hang on, wait a minute, so in terms of what we are talking about, Kami, what did YOU create? Gods make many different things I think.

Kami: I make parts in a factory.  *J, K laugh*.

T: What? The old guy in a backstreet workshop?

K: *laughs* He's the type who can descend to earth very easily, right?

J: He really is one of the commoners.*laughs* Its funny.

Kami: Its because Im an ally of the common people.

K: Well, yeh, it seems like he often goes to Chinese restaurants..

J: Right.

T: And he likes Mahjong

K: Yeh, he likes Mahjong.

J: He's kinda just like my Dad.

K: *laughs*

J: Ah, but UFOs, right?

K: It would be good if they develop this.

T: There might be things like space wars in the future, in reality. With America and such. If they are competing for supremacy in space.

K: Ah, yeh, fighting for supremacy.

T: Right?

J: But Japan is a little late getting started, in relation to that.

K: Oh yeh, its impossible.

J: Right? We wouldn't ever take supremacy.

T: Well Japan can already be seen from anywhere by spy satellites, they'd get all our info.

J: Well, thats it. That kind of thing is going on at the same time.

K: Well, thats just how it is.

J: Thats how it is, right?

T: Thanks for listening.

J: This was a spaced themed chat.

K: Please look forward to next week, thank you very much. Please subscribe.

J,T, Kami: Please do.

*1,3,4,5 Couldn't catch these bits.

*2 mysterious sightings...or something like it.

*6 Sounded like, 'he got divorced', but i couldn't distinguish it clearly enough.

[ughgclden]

bee, love, i am so happy you had a good first day, you deserve calm and loving days, and you deserve people, deserve friends. i’m so happy for you.

as for apologising, i’m a terrible hypocrite every time i tell you not to worry about it, as i also apologise for anything, most notably existing, but i want you to know you don’t have to apologise to me, i understand the impulse but there’s no obligation or anything.

i’m glad you’re feeling better, and that it was just a little ick, well not glad that you were ick but glad it wasn’t too bad.

when it comes to being in welton, i fantasise a lot about these things, i think something especially about boarding schools is appealing to me. being away. that’s why my plans are new york or wales or if my friend is to be believed, quebec. sometimes though, those realities all feel more and more like tissue paper soaked in water, just waiting for a reason to fall apart

i read really quickly, it’s probably an issue, i read red white and royal blue in about an hour and fifteen minutes. neil and i. kindred spirits. today at lunch i watched the last thirty minutes of dead poets society, going back to rewatch “i was good, i was really good.” like ten times.

imposter syndrome is slowly getting the better of me.

i actually dressed up as leia for the midnight premiere of the force awakens. i’m that person. if i’d been with you in the cinema i would have cried too, you’re not alone there, i cried watching it on the floor.

i don’t deserve the nice words you give me, but i’m happy i make you feel comfy and cosy, and ironically enough, writing with a quill or fountain pen never ends in pristine and unsmudged ink, you can thank my being left handed for that. i think there’s something nice about writing with fancy pens, maybe that makes me seem pretentious as well. oh well.

as for dps tattoos, if i can ever get any tattoos, i want the neil crown, “i was good, i was really good.” somewhere, probably my wrist who knows, and some art that alludes to the first unmanned flying desk set. among others. the “and still we sleep” thought, and the outline of meeks and pitts both sound so lovely. so so lovely. i really hope you can get every tattoo you wish. although your bank account may hate me for saying so /j i want more piercings, mainly on my ears, i have something of an earring addiction, my favourite pair at the moment is probably my howl drop earrings that look like howls from howls moving castle.

honestly the outfit/hair colour distraction rule is dumb. it’s dumb. i just don’t get it. abuse of power ig. and yeah. we were like hugging and sorta just leaning on each other while talking and the administrator got angry, for whatever reason. the straight couple making out behind us, she didn’t seem to mind, however. it’s dumb, and im glad i don’t go there anymore.

im clearly very articulate today (sarcasm) my mind is ehhhhhhhhhhh and feels like a squirrel laying on its stomach.

maybe i will call you ramona flowers, bee /j did you know the original name for pac man was puck man… /j hiding in the back of the music room to avoid a maths test sounds like something i would do. i say this, knowing full well that i’m such a neil kinnie that i end up feeling like a teachers pet because i want to do well, both for myself and simply to avoid trouble with my mum.

a new york times best seller, huh? well if i ever publish anything i’ll dedicate it to you, both for being the only person who thought i could be a storyteller, but also for being a lovely person in general.

sometimes one day after another feels impossible. tomorrow feels impossible. but oh well. i think younger me would be disappointed, to some degree. on the other hand, i think they’d think it’s cool how much i know. if nothing else, they’d love that i have a typewriter. also, i’m sure young you would be proud of you, i am. i’m so proud of you.

i mean bee, i could teach you to shoot a bow /hj YOU CAN WIELD A SWORD????? here i was thinking you could not possibly get cooler or hotter omg i’m in love /hj

thank you for being proud of me, really bee, thank you. and thank you for being the only one. i’m hardly changing the world, but i guess if i don’t burn out and lose this fight, changing a few points of views in the process of growing wouldn’t be terrible.

p.s. it’s certainly something, i feel bad because i always pull away from people when i get numb and it’s so new that me doing that could be detrimental to everything, but me forcing myself not to could have a bad effect on me. who knows what’ll happen. i’m just gonna try and keep them happy no matter what.

p. p. s. bee you brought this upon yourself /lh

all my love, bee, and that pun was the out of this world part of that sentence. you’re so cute omg.

that quote is beautiful, and since i, once again, had to translate french and smile about it, i’ll leave you with this

no importa que nos separe la distancia, siempre habrá un mismo cielo que nos una.

p.p.p.s. thank you for saying what you do, and i know that i don’t owe you anything, but writing to you is easy, and makes me happy, when i manage to get myself to sit down and think about it. i’m sending you back hugs, gentle forehead kisses and mugs of tea, a soft blanket and a narnia movie marathon, where we argue about how i am definitely not better than susan pevensie, but you almost certainly might be.

i’m so happy uni is going well thus far, love. and i hope you love your classes. learning.

thank you for everything bee.

yours, always,

star✨

star sweetheart, thank you so so much, honestly. i can't tell you how much that means - i know you said not to apologise, but an apology seems in order for the lateness of this message- im terrible i know /lh thank you sm though.

i'm writing this whilst listening to one of my favourite albums (hypersonic missiles by sam fender, if you were curious) and curled up in bed, so this really adds to the comforting vibes.

i'm with you on that, boarding schools do have a certain something about them, don't they? i hope you can get to one or all of these places in your life - i can speak from experience wales is especially beautiful, but i can really see you in new york, too. wherever you end up star, i truly hope you're happy there.

an hour and fifteen mins?!!? the fastest i've read something was a clockwork orange in two and a half hours or so- you are so strong star, i've watched that film 20+ times and only watched the last half an hour maybe 4 /lh

that is SO CUTE oh my god- i will admit, for it chapter two i did channel my inner bill denbrough and wore some flannel (i luv that limbo <3)

you deserve all of these words and more, i promise you. you deserve something a lot less clumsy, but i offer you my best. left handed.. you rly are neil huh? /j

all of those ideas; absolutely lovely. the i was good tattoo breaks my heart in the best way possible. im hoping you get all of these tattoos, love. you'd suit them more than anyone, i'm sure. those earrings sound like the coolest fucking things ever? i did have a pair that had a little vodka bottle on, but i lost one in a club and haven't gotten round to replacing them. i definitely want more piercings too,, my conch is looking pretty bare as of late...

that is just. so disgusting? im so- god that makes me so angry i can't even explain. i think i should punch all homophobes straight in the mouth, actually /hj

love, i bet younger you would be so so proud of all you've achieved. from only what you've told me, i am. they'd be over the moon at how intellectual, kind and strong you are, i know it.

I CAN!!! ITS ONE OF MY MOST ESTEEMED TALENTS!!! lets make a deal. you teach me to shoot a bow, i teach you to wield a sword.. we're giving very narnia power couple if i may say.. /hj

i will always be proud of you star, for even the smallest of things you achieve. you're actively making a difference and a change, take bringing this positivity into my life for example. you've got this, star. i know you have.

ps; im wishing you all the best my love, seriously. take every day as it comes, and listen to your mind and wellbeing. im sending you so much love

pps; that quote. is so fucking cute. god im breaking down,, its so pretty and so DHJHFJKNFKKN yeah.

this is me, making you a cup of coffee and your favourite comfort meal, with a kiss on the top of the head. we will have this argument - as much as i love susan, she's no match for you <33

all of my love and happiness, star. you truly are one of a kind.

if i may, i'd like to leave you with an excerpt from a poem i saw earlier that i fell in love with;

"and you laugh. / loudly- / head tipping back. / and while your eyes / are on the ceiling, / i am mouthing / something too heavy even / for this steady night to shoulder. / "this is not a joke." i mouth. / "love me. love me." - letters from medea, salma deera

[hoodmara]

Worth It •Nick Smut•

literally a concept I’ve been working on for THREE days and it’s long as fuck, so I hope it’s good lmao.

Concept: Nick is getting tired of jacking off, so Edwin tells him to fuck a fan (THAT’S BLUNT I KNOW IM SORRY)

Warnings: oral sex, language, lil bit of rough sex?

Please enjoy!

******************************************************

Nick’s right hand was growing tired.

He finished himself off with one last twist of his wrist and then felt the warm liquid hit the middle of his bare chest.

Letting out a deep sigh that he felt he had been holding in all day, Nick paused the explicit video he was watching and closed his phone.

He set it to the side and removed his airpods while grabbing for the rag that was hanging off of the small tv next to him. Cleaning himself up, he then jumped out of his small bunk to saunter over to the bus’ restroom.

Passing Edwin on the way, he let out a deep grunt in acknowledgement and kept it pushing. Edwin chuckled at his friend’s disheveled appearance and sent a quick wave his way.

“Another trip to the hub?” He asked jokingly, becoming very familiar with the boy’s masturbatory schedule. Nick’s eyes widened and he stopped in his tracks, turning to look at Edwin.

“Huh? What— what are you talking about?” Nick stuttered, the hand holding the soiled rag shifting behind his back.

Edwin teased his friend, but assured his privacy was not in danger. “Huh? What? Nick, come on, we both know that I’m not an idiot and that I can still see your fucking cum rag behind your back,”

Nick closed his eyes and ran his left hand across his forehead. He quickly opened the bathroom door and tossed the terry cloth into the laundry bag he kept behind the door.

Walking in, he quickly washed his hands and then retreated back to the lounge area where Edwin still held a goofy smile on his face.

“Ok fine, so I had a little alone time, is that a crime?” Nick inquired, plopping down on the couch across from his good friend.

“Look I’m not saying that I listen in on you doing what you do, but I’ve noticed you’ve been..uh...spending a lot of time alone lately and I just wanted to make sure that you’re good,”

Nick ran a hand through his hair and scratched the back of his neck, all the signs of a clearly stressed out Nick Mara.

“I don’t know, man...it’s been, like, a year since I’ve been with someone and I just— I get so..” Nick tried to make sense of his thoughts, but he couldn’t find a way to articulate them well enough. Thankfully Edwin picked up on his friend’s intended response.

“You’ve been bottling up your sexual energies and now it’s hit its’ peak,” Nick cringed at his friend’s honesty, but he knew he was right.

The idea of finally speaking about what had been on his mind was quite frightening. It wasn’t a big deal, everyone at one point got lonely, but Nick was someone who always put on a happy or unfazed face. Edwin pointing this out to him just made it feel like he didn’t do a great job of ‘faking it’.

“Do you have to say it like that?”

“What? Would you rather me say that you want to get your dick wet?” Edwin snickered, getting his daily dose of confidence from the way his friend was cowering at his words.

“God no, Edwin, what the fuck?” Nick groaned, making a sour face at the vulgarity of his friend’s words. Edwin laughed at Nick’s uncomfortable shifting and shook his head.

“When are you going to realize that you can talk to me about anything? It’s not like I’m gonna tell anyone, the rest of these bitches don’t even listen to me when I speak,” He replied, referring to the rest of their bandmates who were fast asleep on the bus. Nick felt bad about his standoffishness with Ed. He knew that if he had to talk about his…problems with anyone, it was best to do it with him.

“Look man, I’m sorry, alright? This just isn’t normal for me, I don’t get to a point where I can’t stop thinking about, you know, sex or being with someone,”

“Aye, I get it, it’s not something you want to bring up with the boys casually,” Edwin spoke, comforting his friend. He continued on, “especially with Zion, cause regardless of how much sex he’s not having, he will try to drag you.”

Nick laughed at the comment Ed made and nodded his head. Feeling more relaxed, he continued to speak on his problem in hand.

“Ok, so what do you think I should do? I can’t just keep rubbing one out ‘cause eventually, someone else is gonna catch me and I don’t want to explain myself,” Nick asked, hoping that Edwin would have a solution.

“Simple, just hook up with someone,” Edwin replied effortlessly, popping a cherry into his mouth from the forgotten bowl of fruit next to him. Nick shook his head in dismay.

“First of all, how? And second of all, I can’t just hook up with someone, we’re on tour, we live in a bus, and we’re constantly moving around,” He rattled off, not stopping after those few reasons, “not only that, but we have literal fans, Ed, what if I accidentally hook up with one of them and they start talking, huh? I can’t afford another scandal after I ran my dumb ass mouth that one time.”

“Hey man, you can call the shots all you want, it doesn’t have to be a random person, but let me just say this, getting with a fan was one of the best decisions I ever made,” Edwin smirked, running a hand over his freshly shaven head. Nick’s eyebrows raised at his friend’s confession.

“You slept with a fan?”

“Yeah, you remember that girl Rain? The one with the two nose piercings?”

“And the bright green hair? Yeah, I remember her, y’all were basically the same person,”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t meet her at a coffee shop, she was at the LA show last year and she slipped me her phone number afterwards,” Nick leaned back in shock, surprised that he never saw this coming.

He knew that the other boys did, in fact, hook up with fans, but he always saw it blow up in their faces. Zion actually had a girl threaten to pepper spray him because he never called her back and Nick did not want that same scenario to happen to him. But maybe Edwin knew something that Nick didn’t, so he gave the boy a chance to explain.

“How did you— like, how did that go? I’m assuming it went well, ‘cause y’all still talk, right?”

“Yeah, we’re really cool! We’re probably gonna meet up soon, too, ‘cause she goes to school in Michigan and she’ll be at the Detroit show,” Edwin smiled.

“And she’s not crazy or anything? Like, she’s not on twitter calling you out?”

“Look, I know Zion’s hookup story scared you off, but let’s both be honest, Z has shit taste in girls,” Nick couldn’t agree more, seeing as most of Zion’s exes have threatened to do or have done something crazy to him. Despite this truth, Nick was still having a hard time siding with Edwin.

“Ok yeah, but what if I get with someone who’s a fan and it’s great, right? But then I don’t call them after or I do want to call them after, but they tell those stupid drama pages? Like, what if—“ Edwin cuts Nick off before he can dive deeper into all the things that could go wrong.

“Nick, chill! Dude, it’s not that serious, alright? If you see someone that you find attractive, just ask for her number! Shit, if she likes you, you might not even have to ask. I’m telling you that Rain and I got along because she was a fan, we talked about the music we had coming out and what her favorite song was, it was a bonding experience,” Edwin inspired, hoping that Nick would see the good that came out of the situation.

“Alright Ed, I’ll take your word for it, but if this blows up in my face, don’t complain when I keep you up for another night at 3am to whine about it,” Nick replies, a small smile finally gracing his face.

Edwin grinned and stood up from his place on the couch. He walked over to pat nick on the shoulder.

“You won’t regret, Nick, I swear. Now, I’m gonna go to sleep because I’m tired as fuck, so don’t jack off too much back here,” Edwin joked, eliciting a chuckle and a quick ‘fuck you’ from Nick.

***************************************

“Yo, that show was fucking nuts, did you see that girl who flashed her titties? It was that one chick who always comes to the shows, I think her name is Allie?” Zion raved, rustling his dreads in a crisp white towel.

“Yeah, I saw that! She’s crazy, man,” Nick laughed.

Throughout the show, Nick couldn’t let Edwin’s words escape him. He spent the meet and greet, and a portion of the show seeking out someone who caught his eye. There were beautiful girls everywhere, some literally throwing themselves at him, but he just didn’t want to make the jump.

“I’m tryna go outside for a bit and talk to some people outside, you wanna come?” Edwin asked, walking into the dressing room from his shower. He looked directly at Nick, shooting him a wink. He knew that this was the best time to make moves, if any.

“Yeah, I’ll go out with you,” Nick replied, grabbing his phone off the table and following Ed into the hallway. The two boys crept quietly past some members of their team, knowing that they would try to stop them from greeting fans.

Finally rounding a corner into an empty hallway, Edwin spotted the exit that led towards the buses.

“So, you see anyone yet? There’s a lot of pretty girls out there,” Edwin inquired, speed walking to the door. Nick matched his speed and laughed.

“Not yet, man. But I’m not stressing,” Nick replied. The two finally reached the door and ran out, being met with a chorus of screams and greetings.

The two went out and mingled, saying hi to their beloved fans and taking as many pictures and videos as they could. Their staff eventually came out, along with a few security guards, to try and coerce the boys to get on the bus. Unfortunately for them, Edwin and Nick were much more stubborn than most, so they didn’t budge.

It was getting late and girls started to leave, particularly the younger girls, but many of the older ones stayed around. Nick was talking with a group of girls who travelled to Georgia from Tennessee and were planning to go the the New York show as well. A girl in the group stuck out to Nick, but he couldn’t make that known.

“So y’all are planning to travel back to Tennessee tonight? It’s one in the morning, you’re gonna be exhausted,” He chuckled, making the girls laugh.

“We’re in school still, so we got summer classes and missing those will get our asses in trouble,” one girl complained. Her friends all agreed, wearing the same annoyed face as their vocal companion. The girl looked behind her and pointed out the girl standing in the back, “This bitch is lucky though, ‘cause she gets to stick around for as long as she wants.”

The girl looked up and caught Nick’s eyes on her. If he could, he would’ve jumped over the barricade to get closer to her. The gold shimmer on her sepia brown cheeks shone bright in the street lights. She could feel her own skin getting warm from being the center of attention now.

“You’re not in school?” Nick asked her, genuinely interested. She shook her head and moved a little closer, finally able to be fully seen under the lights. The moment Nick got a full glimpse of this girl, his breath caught in his throat.

“Uh no, I just graduated! Also, my sister lives out here, so I’m staying at her place for a bit,” She responded, tossing a stray braid over her shoulder. Nick couldn’t help but watch her plump lips move as she spoke, responding to some of her friends comments. Nick nodded, finally digesting her words.

“I wish we could do another show out here, I love the ATL,” Nick smiled, the girls immediately agreeing. They all broke off into their own conversations, trying to include Nick but not talking directly to him. That gave him a chance to talk to this girl without it seeming shady. He moved a bit over to the side, leaning on the barricade where she was texting on her phone.

“Who you talkin’ to?” Nick smirked, jokingly trying to sneak a glance at her screen and getting a giggle out of the girl. She acted like she was hiding her phone from him and scoffed.

“Nobody told me that you were the nosey member of pretty much, they just said you were the cute one,” she replied. Nick’s eyebrows raised and he pursed his lips, making his classic flirtatious face.

“Oh, so you think I’m cute?”

“I mean, you definitely ain’t ugly, so when you do the math, I guess that means you’re cute or whatever,” she joked. The two laughed and shared a comfortable silence. Nick moved his body to the side to check on Edwin and in the process, brushed his hand over her own. Their eyes met quickly and she could see a faint blush happen upon the boy’s cheeks. She smirked and leaned forward, close enough so she could whisper, “are you flirting with me, Mara?”

Nick’s cheeks quickly went from pink to a darker shade of red, the boy cursing his genes for his ability to blush so easily. He couldn’t let her know that he was fazed, that was not in this ‘hookup’ plan. So he smirked like he always did when he tried to act tough and flirted back.

“Depends, is it working?” The girl kissed her teeth and tried to hide her smile. She could feel her own cheeks getting warm, but she was also too proud to come off as some fangirl who was trying to get in the pants of her favorite member. Even if that’s exactly what she was doing.

“What will it take for me to get you home?” she responded, fulling shooting her shot from half court. Nick chuckled and pulled his hat lower. He slowly pulled his phone from his pocket, opened it and slid it to her.

“Let me get your number and I’ll see what I can do,” He flirted. The girl took his phone and quickly tapped in her digits, trying to inconspicuously slide his phone back when she finished. Looking down, he saw her name and number.

Nick could see Edwin staring at him out of the corner of his eye and saw his teeth shining in the moonlight. He saw Ed start wrapping up his goodbyes and thought that he should do the same.

“So, Y/N, you free for the rest of the night?” Nick inquired, quietly. Y/N raised her eyebrows in surprise and laughed.

“Yeah, I’m free. My sister is on a business trip, so I’m watching her place,”

“No roommates?”

“No roommates,” She ensured. Nick smirked and nodded as he walked towards the other groups of girls, planning to say his goodbyes.

******************************************

“Where’s your bed?” Nick mumbled against the girl’s lips. She was straddling him on the couch in her living room, her long acrylic nails scraping down his bare chest.

“Down the hallway, last door on the left,” She replied, going right back to attack his lips. Nick moaned at the feeling, loving the way her teeth would tug at his bottom lip and then soothe the irritated skin with her tongue. He slid to the edge of his seat with her in his lap and stood, gripping tightly onto the back of her thick thighs. Effortlessly, he carried them both down the hallway, every once in a while running into a wall and eliciting a giggle out of the girl.

The moment Nick and Edwin met back up at the bus, Ed told Nick that he had to text Y/N to meet up. She was staying near their hotel and Edwin swore that he would cover for Nick while he was gone. He couldn’t argue with Edwin’s plea, especially because he really didn’t want to. With the way her red sports bra was accentuating her chest and the black bike shorts she wore hugged her ass, he didn’t think he could pass up the opportunity to spend one night with this girl.

Nick used one hand to hold Y/N in place as the other felt its’ way across the wall until it hit a curve and then a doorknob. Turning it quickly, Nick used Y/N’s back to open the door and he stumbled in, turning around and pushing her against the door, shutting it in the process.

He ground his hips into hers, both of them moaning at the friction. She was already out of her pants, so when Nick gently pushed his thigh into her heat, a spot of her wetness could be seen on his gray fleece shorts. Y/N tapped Nick’s hand under her thigh, signaling for him to let go so her feet could touch the ground. He obliged and gently let go of her legs. She stood in front of him and put her hands on his shoulders. Pushing him back, Nick fell back onto the bed. Y/N took that time to strip herself of her sports bra and kneel in front of Nick.

“Stand up,” she demanded. Nick quickly shuffled to his feet and moved to untie his shorts. Y/N’s hands crept up the sides of his legs and pulled down Nick’s pants, slightly giggling at the fact that he wasn’t wearing boxers.

“I was a little eager,” he joked, kicking the fabric away from his feet. Y/N smirked and began to play with Nick’s erect member. A breath hitched in Nick’s throat and his hands went to Y/N’s shoulders.

Trailing her tongue along the bottom side of his dick, she swirled her tongue around the tip once reaching it. She kitten licked at the precum seeping from his engorged tip, sending chills down Nick’s spine.

“God, you’re so good at that,” Nick commented, his words breaking as they came out. Y/N hummed on Nick’s member, causing him to let out a moan.

Soon, she took his cock completely, only leaving about an inch out. Her swollen lips latched on to his member as she hollowed out her cheeks and moved slowly. She gagged a bit on his size, but powered through. Nick couldn’t stand for much longer, his knees buckling at the sensation.

Y/N could feel the man weakening at her touch, so she removed him from her mouth and let him fall onto the bed.

“I’m not done, don’t worry, I just didn’t want you to fall,” she smirked. Nick rolled his eyes and shot a smirk back.

“I can’t lie, I was about to bust, but thanks for worrying about me,” he replied. The girl in front of him smiled and moved to take his erection back into her mouth, but Nick stopped her, “is it ok if I touch your hair?”

Y/N let out a loud laugh and nodded her head. Nick smiled and moved his hand to pull Y/N’s braids into a ponytail. She made a comment about Nick being a gentleman, making him laugh as she went back down to finish her work.

Skipping past any more foreplay, Y/N took Nick’s shaft into her mouth completely, choking a bit when her nose touched the base. Nick grunted at the feeling and help her out, moving her head in a steady motion. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to his breaking point. Y/N used her small hand to replace her mouth on the lower part of his dick. Her movements got sloppier as she sped up, her saliva making it easier as it coated his member.

“I’m gonna, I’m— I’m gonna cum,” Nick stuttered, his grip on her hair loosening. She mumbled a drawn out ‘mmhm’, pushing him to his climax.

The warm liquid ran down Y/N’s throat, Nick thrusting into her mouth to chase the last of his climax. Nick caressed the bare canvas of Y/N’s back, craving the feel of her soft skin. She let go of his cock, her teeth gently grazing the skin as she moved away. Y/N looked up at Nick through her eyelashes as she wiped the sides of her mouth. Nick let out an animalistic growl as he picked her up and tossed her on the bed. The girl laughed at the force, but was more ready than she had ever been.

“You treated me so nicely, baby, the least I can do is return the favor,” he smirked, pulling down her tiny black underwear. Immediately, he dived into her heat, his tongue licking at her clit fervently. Nick then took his finger and slid into Y/N’s entrance, curling up into her g-spot.

She fell into a moaning mess, not expecting the boy to eat her out. Y/N grabbed at Nick’s messy brown hair, pushing him farther into her heat. He continued to lap up her wetness until her moans began to come out much higher than before. He could tell that she was about to cum from the way she was clenching around his finger, so he moved away from her.

Y/N lifted her head when she felt Nick pull away. Shooting him a confused look, she kissed her teeth.

“What the hell, I was close!” She whined, making the boy laugh. He leaned down to grab a condom from his pocket and used his teeth to rip it open. Sliding it on, he pumped himself a few times before moving back onto the bed.

“I gotchu, girl, don’t worry,” he smiled, then continued, “you ready for me?”

Y/N nodded excitedly and pulled him on top of her. With one hand on the side of her head and the other one lining himself up with her entrance, Nick slowly slid his cock into her. A drawn out whimper came from Y/N’s mouth as Nick grunted at the tight feeling of her hole.

“Nick I want more,” Y/N begged, her nails scraping his back. Nick sped up his thrusts, the sound of skin slapping filled the room. He hummed as he left open mouth kisses on her neck. Y/N started to clench around Nick, prefacing her orgasm. The tightness of her heat made Nick’s eyes roll back, the hand that was holding him was shaking and pulling at the sheets. Y/N tapped Nick on the chest, so he met her eyes.

“I want to ride you,” she said. Nick’s eyes grew wide and he nodded quickly, almost coming at the thought of her on top. Quickly, he flipped the both of them over. Y/N moved into a squat position, lining Nick up with her entrance. Sinking down, he clutched onto her thigh at the new feeling. She bounced quickly on his dick, throwing her head back at the feeling. Nick moved his hands from her thigh to play with Y/N’s hard nipples. She moaned loudly and moved her own hand to toy with her clit.

The two of them were in complete bliss, nearing their orgasms quickly. Nick silently thanked Edwin for the idea and pushed his head back into the pillows, bracing for his second climax of the night.

“I can’t take much more, babe,” Nick mumbled, trailing his fingertips down her chest to rest on her thighs. He began to thrust up, meeting her own. Y/N had her bottom lip clenched in between her teeth in concentration. She fell to her knees from her squat position, but continued to slide Nick in and out of her.

“Me either, I think I’m about to—“ as she spoke, her orgasm hit, her mouth widening. The way she tightened around him and the look on her face pushed Nick over the edge, filling the latex with his warm seed. He kept messily thrusting up. Y/N had to put a hand on his pelvis to slow him down.

Falling forward, her chest met Nick’s and he wrapped an arm around her waist. Leaning over the bed, he picked up his phone to check the time. His clock read 4:18 and he hissed, shocked that it was so late.

“You have to leave, don’t you?” Y/N asked, weakly lifting her head up from his shoulder. Nick sadly nodded and frowned at the breeze he felt when she rolled off of him. He turned to sit up in the bed and placed his feet down on the carpet.

Nick grabbed his pants and began to slide them on. Y/N handed him his phone and got up to walk him out. She slipped on her panties and opened the door for him.

Collecting his T-shirt in the living room, Nick grabbed his sweatshirt and handed it to Y/N.

“Keep this, I’ll get it back from you the next time we hang out,” he said, making the girl smile. She pulled it on and shoved her hands into the pocket.

“So we’re gonna hang again?”

“I would like to, even though I don’t come out to Georgia or Tennessee often,”

“Well it’s a good thing I travel for work,” Y/N smirked, Nick raiding his eyebrow in response.

“What are you doing in a month?” He asked.

“Coincidently, I’m in California for a shoot,” she replied.

“Well, if you want to, I’d definitely love to see you at our LA show?”

“Are you sure that won’t compromise our little secret?” Nick thought about what Y/N said, since it was a concern of his to not get caught. But being around Y/N made the idea easier to bear, and much more exciting after their night together. Getting an alert on his phone that his ride had arrived, Nick smiled.

“Nah, and even if it did, I think you’re worth it,” he flirted, leaving the girl with his usual charm.

[android-for-life]

"The big story behind a little Blue Dot"

Editor’s note: May is Mental Health Awareness Month. Learn more about Google's mental health resources and tools. 

A few years ago, Jenny Fandrianto noticed a sticker on a colleague’s laptop that read “ask me about Blue Dot.” So, she did. 

She learned Blue Dot is a network of Googlers who simply listen to those who reach out to them. It's not therapy, and they don't tell anyone how to fix their problems. They just want to make it OK to talk about mental health. “Having that first conversation was really inspiring and energizing,” Jenny says. “I got to connect with someone and say ‘this is something that’s important to me, too.’” 

Blue Dot’s mission to destigmatize conversations like the one Jenny had began in 2016, when it was founded by Rachael Bleakley and Jack Kaden (a Googler and a former Googler, respectively). Rachael had recently seen a news segment about a barber with a poster in his shop that read “Feeling down? Chat to us!” “He said it nearly always started some great conversations about mental health with everyone who sat in his chair.” She pitched the concept and within days, was on a call with a global group of Googlers putting a plan in motion. 

Why a blue dot? “Blue Dot was for practicality reasons...it's easy to buy blue dot stickers for cheap and anywhere in the world locally, so it made sense to pick something all the local office leads could stock up on themselves if we give them the budget.”

While growth wasn’t Blue Dot’s priority, it quickly took off. “We knew there would be appetite for this but it was so hard to measure in the beginning; the last thing we wanted to be doing was asking Googlers to tell us when they had a 'chat' thanks to Blue Dot!” she says. “We also had to be careful we weren't putting Googlers in potentially difficult situations if they got into a chat that was slightly out of their depth; the expectation is only to listen and not to offer specific advice.” 

Peter Corcoran took the reins at Blue Dot as it matured from its purely grassroots beginnings into an official employee resource group. “I was in the British Army for 10 years, and it was actually one of the reasons I got involved in Blue Dot, having suffered trauma in my military career,” Peter says. Becoming a Googler-led mental health resource sponsored by People Ops, he explains, was ultimately the right move. “It gave us access to better resources, better guidance. It created a much better ecosystem.”  Maja Bilić stepped in around the same time to help Blue Dot’s transition. She helped with infrastructure—things like building the website and creating the listener sign-up system. 

“Blue Dot’s mission will be accomplished if every Googler knows about their mental health resources, and if people articulate their mental health needs,” Peter says. “The aim isn’t the success of Blue Dot. It’s the success of the mission.”

Prior to the time Maja stepped in, Blue Dot was far more grassroots. “Before that we just had an idea. We had stickers,” she says.

A tipping point in this evolution came during a global Google town hall last year, where Blue Dot was mentioned as a resource for Googlers. “I was like, ‘we’ve reached critical mass!’” Peter remembers. “It was kind of like, ‘oh, we’re grown up!’”

Amy Costello, Blue Dot’s acting global lead, discovered Blue Dot in 2018 after working at Google for about six months. “I was looking for a 20 percent project and lo and behold, I learned about this program called Blue Dot.” Amy, who lost her father to suicide as a teenager, describes her work with Blue Dot as “something that really hits close to home. If this is an area I can give back in, how wonderfully fulfilling.” 

Today, Blue Dot has nearly 2,000 allies in its network, but for privacy reasons, doesn’t collect data on sessions. Participants go through a self-guided training module on effective listening and what to do if someone needs additional support. "Listening is about devoting your full attention to another human being. It's a time to ignore the IMs, text messages and emails and provide someone with your undivided attention," Amy shares.

"When you’re talking to somebody, sometimes you’re thinking ‘well what am I going to say next?’ But your job is literally to not say anything. You’re only supposed to listen to this person and acknowledge what this person is saying.”

Jenny has benefited from Listener training even outside of Blue Dot. “While I’m on a video call, I don’t have email open, I’m not chatting with other people on Hangouts. In in-person meetings, my laptop is down, and if there are notes I need to take, I take them on paper. My attention is here, with you, right now, because you matter, and the time we spend together is valuable.” 

“Honestly, when we introduced trainings, people were a little like ‘ugh, really?’” Maja laughs. But participants ended up loving it, herself included. “You learn how to actively listen, and active listening is such an important skill.” 

Recently, Blue Dot pivoted from in-person listening sessions, moving to online only. In March, Blue Dot Sunnyvale began hosting virtual get-togethers. “But then we realized...it’s virtual! It doesn’t have to be just our campus,” Jenny says. “We shared this idea globally with the entire Blue Dot community and now we have this office hours program being replicated in all these different regions. It’s become much bigger than what we originally imagined.” 

The new online office hours may also be more welcoming for some. Googlers can select an appointment time with a Listener from any region that works for them, a system Jenny believes lowers the barrier for anyone who’s hesitant to reach out. “Just click and sign up and we’re here. I think it’s just a little bit more accessible to people who need it,” she says. 

Jenny has noticed Blue Dot Listeners are taking on more and more time slots. “I’m seeing people who are making themselves available for office hours all times of the day. We have people signing up for even the holidays,” she says. “They’re thinking ‘you know, there might be people who need someone to talk to on a holiday, so I’m going to make myself available in case somebody needs it.”

Support systems are always a steadying force, but perhaps more so when it feels as if the entire world is on shaky ground. “I feel like on a day-to-day basis, my life is very happy, but at the same time, we don’t have the same releases right now. We don’t have the same kinds of mental breaks,” Amy agrees. “I find myself being over-tired, which is something I’ve heard from my colleagues as well. Having the Blue Dot community available for that outreach, for that friendly face, for people to know you are going to be really open to talking about things like this is so meaningful to the Google community.”

00100trPORTRAIT_00100_BURST20200514091722983_COVER.jpg

F3C9B39A-66BC-4417-BB37-EE1C14D13DAB.jpg

IMG_20200512_131346.jpg

IMG_20200513_135938 (1).jpg

IMG_20200514_074641.jpg

Despite the challenges of sheltering in place, both Amy and Jenny notice it’s also inspiring frank conversations about mental health. “During every team meeting now, we start with five minutes of ‘How are you doing? What’s new? Is there anything I can do to help?” Jenny says. “We’re talking about our personal lives a bit more now. It’s funny because I feel like we’re closer as a team even though we’re all virtual. It’s because we’re genuinely concerned for each other outside of work.” 

Though Blue Dot has grown, the subtle ways it creates conversations about mental health remain. That little dot disintegrates some of the pressure; “ask me about Blue Dot,” for many, is easier to respond to than “ask me about mental health.” 

Today, in lieu of laptop stickers we can’t physically see, Listeners include a blue dot in their email signatures. “So many people have asked ‘hey, I see you have this blue circle in your email signature—what’s that about?’” 

The group is hopeful that someday, we won’t need a dot or anything else to openly talk about therapy appointments or depression. “We have no problem going to the doctor for a physical, we have no problem going to the dentist to get our teeth cleaned,” Amy says. “Why should we have a problem talking about our mental health, or saying, ‘hey, I’m going to the therapist today’? One of the really special things about Google is that those things are OK to say, and I feel like groups like Blue Dot help normalize it.” 

Blue Dot has helped Jenny feel comfortable being an advocate for mental health, and talking about her own. “I’m much more open about a lot of other things I don’t think people talk about. No one really comfortably talks about the struggles of being a woman in tech, or has revealing conversations around fertility challenges like IVF or miscarriages.” As she’s become more forthcoming, she’s felt groups forming—supportive pocket communities that invite, even welcome, these kinds of conversations. 

“People are OK being vulnerable, they feel safer,” she says. “And that’s brought a lot of us so much closer.” 

Source : The Official Google Blog via Source information

[spotlightsaga]

Kevin Cage of @spotlightsaga reviews… Untucked (S09E06) Snatch Game Airdate: April 29, 2017 @wowreport Ratings: 593,000+ on @youtube as of 6/15/17 Score: 8/10

**********SPOILERS BELLW**********

I made a specific contestant a promise I would go ahead and watch Untucked to not only highlight the juxtaposition of my styles of writing when it comes the two totally different series (one competition, one what’s morphed into a show of spirit and sense of community), but also because Drag Race is simply a tough one for me to review. I have a lot of respect for everyone that comes on the show and demonstrates that ‘fire’, and I get caught up in trying to both critique ‘Drag Race’ as the competition style calls for and pad my blunt critiques with humor that can be sometimes taken the wrong way. Last week’s 'Untucked’, I focused heavily on Nina, I recognized a pattern, certain tendencies, withdrawing fro. The group, and a look of the eyes that I know all too well because I myself have battled depression, addiction, dependency, a slew of shit (as most of us have) and had to figure out how to maneuver life without throwing up too many buckets of water on myself when I start to get white hot. It’s not easy, but for some people it is… And sometimes those very people want to say, 'Get over it’, 'Suck it up’, or write you off… Depression, self doubt, all these things that plague us in the cycle of the human condition are not something you can just wipe off the mirror like lipstick… But I see you Queens struggling with that too, so…

We start this 'Untucked’ off with a bit of fun, the same fun we aren’t exactly seeing translate to VH1 on the 'Main Stage’… Then again VH1 was the network that picked Wendy Williams to host the between breaks 'Viewing Party’. Just ask our buddy Jonny McGovern & his friend Erickatoure why that’s not the best move… Better yet just go subscribe to his channel on YouTube. 'Hey Qween’ is literally just waiting for you, calling your name, just sitting on YouTube Red’s digital shelf waiting for you to watch until your eyes turn glossy & red, leaving you pupils dilated to the size of mega saucers… And when you finally emerge from your house everyone will assume your either a tweaker or from Wilton Manors.

Apparently Trinity Taylor, God Bless her Floridian soul, has never seen 'Bad Girls Club’ or been the only white girl in the room… As she has no clue what 'edges’ are. I can’t tell you why this is so damn funny to me, maybe it’s Shea’s earnest and surprisingly highly detailed & accurate attempt at educating Trinity on the matter (This is emerging as Shea’s specialty, not the history and extensive knowledge of edges, but breaking things down in articulate manner that anyone can follow - plus she’s talent personified)… Maybe it’s Valentina’s adorably juvenile delivery of the line she delivers to Trinity explaining to her that she has her own form of edges, 'that black spray stuff you be spraying, DUH!’ But as god as my witness, there are simply no words to describe the laughter this scene inspires!

Trinity still doesn’t get it, she’s 'from the south’ she says we don’t use words like 'Edges’… Tho, again, I’m gonna have to break something down… South Florida and even parts of Central Florida aren’t really the south. Consider us more of the North Caribbean, hell we aren’t even really a part of the United States, thats just what it looks like on the map so everyone including your parents and teachers have told you so. But yeah, 'edges’ are most definitely still a word down here in the 'North Carribean’. Valentina’s adorableness continues… Her Hispanic background leads her to really appreciate Trinity’s astonishing ability to be 'so evil and so nice at the same time’. See, that’s how we do it here in South & Central FL… We love you, but we simply don’t have time to dance around your feelings. We’ll give you the shirt off of our backs then have you lay down in a mud puddle so we can walk over you. I’m kidding, of course. We’d obviously pick you you up and give you a peck on the cheek, dust off the mud and take our fn’ shirt back. It’s just the way the bottom half of Florida works, and that’s why I 'get’ and love Trinity Taylor so very much. Now that we got some proper Florida representation, maybe S10 we can get South Florida’s legendary 'Daisy Deadpetals’ finally on this show! Ru, please?

Enter the tops and the bottoms… Tho Alexis clearly states, 'This top is versatile.’ Told you, Alex, we could have so much fun. Tho for me it’s always much more about the passion and connection than it is about the final act. We’re getting way off topic. Sasha and Alexis go back and forth telling the others how much the judges praised each other… There is a deep respect between the two and though I absolutely loved Sasha’s 'Marlene Dietrich’ and did pad my opinion with a bit of comedy on the 'Main Stage’ review… I do want to set the record straight and say Alexis’s Liza was most definitely a highlight. Seeing the top two sit across from each other with their dignified 'Northern Poise’ is quite the scene… And Alexis’s shape from the side is nothing short of astounding. If the hair was different and the dress were pants, it would be spot on to my favorite Madonna… 'Bedtime Stories’ Madonna, particularly 'Human Nature’. Either way, I love it and for some reason Sasha’s poise is so proper I can’t help but keep rolling the word 'Yankee’ through my head… I don’t know how to interpret that for you, but I have it on pause and can’t stop laughing.

With VH1 taking the show in such a vastly different direction, I can’t say how much I appreciate this 'Untucked’ enough. Alexis, Shea, and Sasha look to immediately focus on Nina who needs a bit of love after the strange exploitation of her depression reared its ugly head the episode before last of 'Drag Race’. It’s clear Nina is feeling a bit better at this point but those kinds of battles are never over. These three obviously are aware of that and I want to show love to all three of them, particularly Shea who goes the extra mile for her and really tries to continue to hammer things back into perspective for Nina. This is the 'Drag Race’ I want to see. People have criticized the show for being too 'best friend race’ as they have with Slice’s RHOT… But we do enough of beating each other down, especially when you are in a high pressure situation constantly trying to squeeze every last drop of creativity that you can for the next challenge and the next and being paraded around on a runway and criticized, by both the judges and the world… I’m happy to see (however you want put this) the brotherly/sisterly… Straight up human empathy shining under the bright stage lights of television.

The bottoms… Peppermint, Cynthia Lee Fontaine, and Farrah Moan speak next. Peppermint is frustrated that she nailed Brittany in a prior challenge, but couldn’t nail Nene Leakes. It’s much different when you are given a character with lines & direction than when you literally have to create one from scratch… Then again, everyone knows 'Snatch Games’ is coming, so they really do need to be prepared. Farrah looks stunning, and is clearly saved by her fantastic runway look, I’m still curious as to who Gigi was or why anyone would care… Then again I’m in my 30’s and an ex-athlete, Ginger Cub who thinks the thicker the better… Im not scouring the internet for makeup tips. Either way, Farrah is just very young for this competition. Bring her back in 5-10 years and she’d be a massive threat. Her talent is there, it just needs a few years of experience before she can really show what she’s made of.

I often find myself very frustrated with Cynthia Lee Fontaine. This is a competition, I want to see the best of the best battle it out. This is Cynthia’s second time on the show and she’s screwing up essential Drag Race portions of the show… But here, she’s just so defeated, but she instantly goes through a horde of emotions within 2 seconds and is all the sudden firing herself back up with her own words, and it melts me. Despite any critiques I give as a judge would in my reviews of the 'Main Stage’, I’m a softie on the inside and nobody does Cynthia like Cynthia Lee Fontaine. I just don’t think a 2nd stent on 'Drag Race’ was in order, but there is something about that fighting spirit Cynthia displays that I feel needs to be seen, not just by this younger generation, but by everyone. Alexis takes note and proposes a toast, “L'chaim”, bitches!

World Of Wonder, come through! If VH1 has the producers focusing on the negative, then WOW always has their own freedom with 'Untucked’ to make up for that… And they do. Our girl Nina needed this video message from her mother, and that soft, loving, and tender look Nina shoots the screen that you can see if you pause the show right at 13:49 is all I needed and wanted for Nina. Keep pushing, girl… And listen to Shea! That’s a true friend, and there aren’t that many of those in the world. Like I keep saying, you can always tell who the strongest men and women in the room are… They are the ones lifting everyone up, instead of tearing them all apart.

Before I close out yet another long-winded love letter to World Of Wonder’s 'Untucked’ and all the contestants in this show… As I’ve explained in the past, I’ve always had an extremely tough time with the gay community. I sold myself at Johnny’s in Ft Lauderdale for years and nearly destroyed myself after my Aunt (who was like my sister) took her own life. My past experiences made it difficult for me to separate sex and shame, I will not point fingers as to why, but I’ve opened up about it in other reviews and will continue to do so as I sort it out as I go along. My critiques for the main stage of 'Drag Race’ are always difficult to navigate. I have a deep respect for the art form and contestants of Drag Race from Jaymes Mansfield to Nina BoNina Brown to Alexis Michelle and everyone in between, but like Trinity Taylor I try to tell it like it is from a loving place. I enjoy writing about the show. I enjoy watching the show. And if I’ve ever offended a contestant or said something that crossed a line or was taken the wrong way, I apologize. I fight to kind of hold onto the gay community in a weird way through this show, because my experiences with said community have been mainly negative in real life… Whether I was selling myself on stage at Johnny’s or Boardwalk… Or being introduced to methamphetamine at an early age.

I write because it’s my passion, and I’m starting to make a nice living at it and turning my dreams into reality. I said something in my last review of 'Drag Race’ and attempted to pad it with humor and the person who it affected respectfully came to me and talked to me about it directly. I appreciate that… And I think we were both able to see where each other were coming from and hopefully a friendship will come of it. But then this morning I wake up to death threats, 'kill yourself’, and a variety of hate speech from a community that I’ve never been able to find that true piece of love and acceptance I needed… One that for some reason is the hardest on me than any other community or subject I write on. I’m not over here crying about it, but all that nastiness will get you blocked real quick. My Spotlight Saga project, which is growing fast, and I’m happy to tell you all is being built into an online magazine slowly but surely - as well as a place where people can share perspectives to open hearts, minds, mouths, and ears, is my baby and I will fight for it till the end of time. There’s nothing in this world that I do half assed, my momma sure of that. So show love, address each other with respect, and fools… Don’t come at me crazy, cuz I’m not throwing the towel in anytime soon.

[noxrynne]

feel free to ignore me im just rambling out thoughts really ‘cuz like idk i got annoyed with how tumblr said “fuck ur tags”

Like, for me personally, usually people tend to like use old, outdated or bad phrasing when trying to get to know me on a more personal level and what it’s like for me to be transgender. In this case like, I do get uncomfortable, but I kinda can understand why they’re using those terms with me. Like, granted, it took me a long time to really come across any transgender vocabulary or terms since, for a long time, I just was never exposed to any of it through anything other than TV. And sitcoms at that (so like, pretty shitty exposure). 

Sometimes I’m like, “Okay sure, I’ll talk a bit and I’ll just like explain what makes me uncomfortable through their language and stuff. I can’t talk for -everyone- but at least it might help some people get some more respectful language to start off with.” Other times I’m just like, in a bad mood or had a bad day and kinda get sarcastic since that’s something I tend to get when I’m upset or nervous but not like, having some problems parsing stuff mentally (when that happens I tend to stutter or just like, stop mid sentence and try to remember wtf I was saying).  I’ve had a lot of encounters with people who were genuinely wanting to know me better, like old friends and stuff who wanted to reconnect. Or just someone who is trying to make some talk while I’m like, sitting around in their office waiting on something (like eye exams and such when someone’s fitting glasses for me). 

Basically no one really uses correct language. I have a hard time really holding it against them? Because when I first started realizing I was transgender, I had like, 0 conception of what that meant. My entire concept of like “what is a transgender person and what’s that mean” was from sitcoms on TV. Googling it back then I remember being more confusing than anything, and I honestly ended up finding the right language, terms, finding the like... I dunno, like the information overall? From friends, from friend tumblrs, going through the same thing. It was a lot of “OH, I relate to this!!!! OH, that’s the word for it? OH, what’s dysphoria... OH I feel like what this definition describes a lot!” and I’m kinda lucky I like, had that online friend circle. 

Like before I was always terrified I’d look like how the standard “here’s a crowd of hookers, here’s an obviously masculine individual with the deepest voice we could find in a dress” thing on TV goes. It was a big block for me b/c I didn’t want people to point and laugh at me, or make fun of me like how it always goes on TV (and that’s really all I had to understand like, what it’d be like to be in public?).  Before I found like, actual vernacular and language for everything I was always scared to talk about it. All I knew was the word “transvestite” and I knew that wasn’t right, I hated the sound of it personally, and the definition was wonky and I only ever heard the term in an extremely negative context. (The only thing I recall that ever put it in a positive enough light for me was Rocky Horror, and I used to watch it a lot because I always wanted to be pretty enough to wear some of those costumes and stuff). 

But like, when people ask me questions about being trans and everything I tend to like, say “Oh, please don’t call me or refer to me as that. It’s used really negatively all the time, and people have used that term to mock me and hurt me. Transgender is what I am.” I tend to be pretty polite in general, like I’m the person who when knocked over is more likely to apologize to whoever knocked me over. It’s kinda just how I am I think, though I always did wish I was a bit more assertive and that I could stand up for myself more often.  Usually a lot of those discussions end positively. Like, “oh I didn’t know that, wow, that sounds rough” and stuff and it feels kinda nice that this person is willing to like listen to what I have to say (and usually immediately starts using the language I prefer with myself). I usually use the “Well... I was a boy” thing since no one really seems to grasp “Well I was always a girl, but like, my body was more masculine so I was declared a boy from birth” (as in with that description they tend to think “so wait you have a... ?” and that’s awkward for me to like talk about with someone’s who’s basically a stranger x.x;;;). But the other phrase tends to click with them like “Ohhh, okay.” Though like, I kinda try to explain it’s really not as cut and dry like that, it’s just sort of hard to articulate I guess? At least for me it is, to where cis people with 0 concept of what it’s like to be me will understand what I mean, at least. 

I only really tend to use the “mtf” phrase online since in actual IRL talk it sounds clunky to me, so I tend to say “Designated male at birth” and just shorten it since it’s kinda... I dunno, I like how it describes that aspect better? “mtf” always makes me think of Craisglist dating ads on top of that x.x A lot of like, terms in general have been used to insult me (ie; transvestite, tranny, boy in a dress, etc... ), usually online though some people IRL have the lack of respect to do it, too. (I’ve had a lot of other stuff in the past, like been offered money for sexual favors, received rape/death threat messages, etc...). I also absolutely HATE it when anyone says I’m a “trap” that’s like... I hate that more than someone calling me a “tranny” to my face. I really -hate- that term. 

I dunno, I guess I take more of an “intent” approach (and this is just me PERSONALLY I’m not like, preaching or anything and I’m SUPER SORRY if it comes off that way I don’t intend it to x.x;;;)

Since like, I have friends (just like... I’m pretty sure everyone’s misgendered me once by accident, but it’s like to me, it’s an accident and I get that happens. If it’s being done intentionally it hurts, but my friends never do that [luv u guys]).  Idk I rambled on the subject a lot, I kinda have like... I mean this is again just a personal thing. Other people will feel different, other people will hold different feelings/views/thoughts. I just know like, this is how I am x.x;;;; idk

I just rambeld off ‘cuz it made me think a lot and stuff about like me personally. Idk. 

[thevulernablepreacher]

Energy Healing-Read it Anyway

Inspiration is a God thing. When it hits my mind is on fire. It courses through me. I LOVE it. Rarely am i somewhere i can write it down as its happening. I’m on the toilet or driving..recording doesn’t help. I forget i recorded and have zero to negative patience for listening back.

I read Lean Dunham’s piece on her breakup this morning when i woke up b/c it was front and center in my Instagram feed. IT’s gross how addicted I am. i had been looking at her photo’s lately, wondering if she’d broken up. I sensed it. The energy surrounding here screams it. She’s been looking so clearly sad behind what looks like attempts to put on a strong and happy front . 

Someone wrote a reply saying so. I wanted to annihilate that person. I cannot tolerate the ease with which other people decide they're on an intimate enough basis to say this kind of shit to pepole. Of course she looks sad you ignorant fuck; you think she doesn’t see that or know that? She’s a fucking creative genius living in her emotions at every flipping second. So that’s not a helpful reflection.

I hate the word trigger but that comment clearly did just that to me. But that’s not at all what i want to write about.

What happened when i read that was that i fell in love with LD again. She blows my mind. She is an INCREDIBLE writer. She can talk about shit that we all talk about and experience in a way that no one articulates it. She has this special sauce ability with language to get into the nooks and crannies like a Thomas’s English muffin,  so deeply descriptively. 

I fell in love and i was jealous..so fucking jealous. I want to write that well. I want to be that fucking famous; not for fame sake, but i think maybe for the flow of cash (so i could work from an Adirondack chair) and for people desiring to hear more from me and thus paying gigs would fly in..a beautiful viscous cycle.

I had a mind blowing energy healing session yesterday and one of the things she said to me was, “I can just imagine your next speaking gig when you show up completely authentically; how powerful that will be.”

Well, i had that next gig this morning. I had to read  a “purpose and overview” statement to my networking group at 7:15 am. i wrote it last night. I took two bowls of ground curried lamb topped with black salt, and three cups of chamomile tea get it good and done. It took probably an hour and 1/2 to complete. I love it and its torturous.

I read it this morning and i will tell you i was amazed at my sureness confidence. No longer is my voice shaky when i speak. I”m finding that to be true in my speaking club group too. I just feel right; strong, upright, grounded. I was listening to myself and i thought, “God, this is really good.”

I was speaking to a room full of humans of an incredible caliber. They are all seasoned vets, with solid truly “successful” and thriving businesses. More importantly,  they are also stellar humans. 

Interestingly there’s a lot of lesbians in this group. We have the woman who brought Title IX to Yale, back in the day. She was also the first female plumber in the state. She’s unbelievably awesome. We have an amazing acupuncturist and a landscape architect to die for: all lesbians. Amazing, so cool. 

And in terms of men; stellar men. Incredible to be able to say that; and its true.

One of my mentors and fav’s among uttered, “wow” when i finished reading. Another caught my eye from a distance, beamed at me and gave me the thumbs up.

They’re all human of course, even though i pedistalize them (constant challenge for me). They've al made  gaffs in the building process. I of course LOVE to hear about them. Nothing more fulfilling than hearing about stellar fuckups made by people i so admire. It takes a ton of come to Jesus moments, courage and perseverance to create a business, build it, hone it and nurture it constantly. Beyond belief.

The first thing i thought when sat down was: “is that what i’m supposed to be doing, speaking publicly”? The answer is yes. I’ve known this ALWAYS.

That question came this morning though b/c my energy healing session was about clearing a blockage between my solar and lunar chakras. She said she’d never seen a more perfect and equal imbalance. she was psyched and I was psyched. she cleared it. 

The imbalance was making it impossible for me to live my life’s purpose. 

I knew exactly when the imbalance came in. It happened after the best six years of my adolescence. And ironically i have been through 6 years  physical pain, illness, total annihilation of feeling like Emily. So the six year thing she thought was incredible. I guess the jig is up.

What i learned: ANYTIME one has pain or feet issues it is because they are having Lunar issues. FASCINATING to me! Can you imagine if we all did energy healing instead of taking pills or having surgery? WTF!!!!!

Anyway a part of me got scared when she talked about showing up now authentically.  Could i do that after mastering looking like i was showing up authentically so well? What would that feel like?

I talked to her about how I am able to create great intimacy, make people laugh, connect, when i speak publicly. So I am living my life purpose..sort of; the blockage part is that i keep the all at a 5 feet distance. 

She asked about friendships; which ironically my former therapist asked me recently through an FB chat we were having. I said i have them; very close one’s but i never see them; any of them. it’s always been a source of great pain.

I don’t have daily intimacy. It makes me so so sad. You know those people who command the stage and can’t bear talking intimately with a group? I’m not that person. I have very intimate interchanges and time with close friends ..but it’s far from often. And when i do I then go home alone, and spend inordinate amounts of time alone.

Some of that is okay..but id prefer less at this point. Pain and illness have made that alone time grow; but it has been there since as early as I can remember.

And while i would love a best friend/partner who makes me laugh and with whom i can go to the movies, hang out, talk about nothing and everything with; i also stay away from it b/c i think it would suck to be with someone who has such intense forward and backwards and ups and downs..id be afraid of bringing them down and of becoming dependent upon them.

I know. I have a fear of true intimacy. I come by it so honestly it’s beyond.

I blocked off from true intimacy b/c performing was exhausting; performing in real life. i learned in my house that revealing all of me was going to receive very intense judgment and rejection.

Ive had two long term lesbian relationships. They were both abusive. Im so different now; that would not happen. And i think the right person will show up when the time is right; but i keep feeling like that may be close. I have a great curiosity as to what that will look like. It will be something i’ve never known before. This much I know.

I’m writing all of this b/c during the energy healing session my feet were buzzing. Afterwards i was able to walk in my adidas flip flops with the nubs comfortably for the first time in months. I was elated.

I thought...this shit works.

I talked about my very clear image of myself in my 60′s galavanting all over the globe with a partner having the time of my life; pain free; joyful, healthy. She asked that i write about the crazy creative that i was at Far Brook when i was a kid; when i was encouraged every day to be as insane and out there as I could possibly be. 

My surrogate grandfather Mr. Finckle, would sit in the back of the hall while i did this larger than life evangelical thing. He loved it. My friend Donna would play some soap opera music and gospel music and i would just go. If I was watching myself now i think i’d find it hilarious. I was off my rocker in the best possible way.

I did this every day all day for 6 years. I laughed straight for 6 years. it never occurred to me to button up or quiet down. My music, humor, authentlic prowess, improv gifts were living LARGE. It was a magical creative faucet turned on and flowing at full force.

That’s me. That’s my essence. 

I remember being at a visual art opening this past winter  at a crystal gallery (yeah, really). I was being told as the artist was playing her violin. That not only did she create art. she was clearly a musician, and a writer. I thought: Jesus  this art is hideous; but regardless, she has as show and is playing her music at her show and people are here loving all of it! WTF.  And i thought, i too am a musician and an artist..and used to produce on full throttle. What happened to her?

So this morning...i was wondering after i read that piece: “was i being authentically me?” I know i was talking to a bunch of  business people...but i think i was being me.

Im working on that really consciously now. I told my energy healer that really me is kind of messy looking and tatted abundantly. I wasn’t messy enough today for sure. And i would LOVE a few more tattoos.

I walked by a  woman looking like an artist coming home from yoga yesterday. She was disheveled and nothing matched. And i thought she was stunning. She made me feel completely at home. She was a huge reflection of me at my most creative self. She would have been floored had i told her how much i loved her look.

So i am trying to button down  big time; to be me in the realm of business and the real world..and watching; seeing what that might be. 

I write all of this because i left my networking meeting early. I was in a fuck load of pain. My foot is not healed. My knees were killing me. another part of my foot was really hurting and i though omfg i think i restrained the right ankle area again..this is of course not the left ankle that is always stressed and restraining if i have the boot on. 

A couple of people asked me why was there if i was in pain. I was completely flummoxed and searching for the answer. Why was I there when i was in pain?

Because i didn’t want to be in pain; because i thought i’d be okay. Because i rarely cancel on business things. Lately I'm cancelling more and not feeling guilty.

I was so fucking mad at my pain this morning. I told people i was mad, over it. Tired of shelling out cash like an ATM to heal myself. O.V.E.R. IT!

I get to say that. I so get to say that.

Im over the shame and i’m over the isolation it causes..i do everything in my power to heal. I seek every possible Western and alternative person on the planet..and still I am in  pain. 

I’m also confused and not sure how to proceed. I’m not good at figuring it out.

And because i’m me, this is what i think: There is something that i am not getting. There is something about my souls path that i am not answering. 

That’s why i ask: “am i supposed to be speaking and not building this business?” Logic to me, and the inner voice says, “yes, that’s right.”

My life should flow. My life can flow. My life is not flowing. 

When i’m in pain its really hard to be positive. Someone used the word “positivity” today at our meeting..a visitor. No one in our group would use that word. I wouldn’t be in a group that did. I would be throwing up all over the group if that was the case. I can’t stand that word. 

It’s complete bullshit. You have to get the core of your shit to feel positive..i think i’m at my core. I cannot stand “words or quotes of the times”..horrifying.

I also wonder: "If i start speaking publicly will my physical pain just go away?”

I’m an unbelievable magical thinker. So i think that’s what the universe is waiting for. 

For today i will wear my cool blue Bomba’s peds with my Adidias flip flops b/c for some reason that seems to ease the pain a bit. I think it’s just because the feeling of the nubs takes over.

I have no cohesive ending here; i’m just ending.