#shoutout to my coworker that was like “can you bite me I wanna be one” like ok girl.

[dunmeshiminimumwage]

[artificialqueens]

drawing new lines, chapter one (Branjie) - Holtzmanns

(read on ao3) | (tumblr: plastiquetiaras) | (word count: 3756)

AN: Hello, new multichap! This one has been an extremely fun one to write so far, and I can’t wait to keep going. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do. Special thanks for Writ for being a wonderful beta, for listening to me throw ideas left write and centre and encouraging even the most headass of plots. Also shoutout to Barbie for coming up with Brooke’s career in this fic, aka wanting an architect Brooke. Title of the fic from Flying by Wrabel. Enjoy!

There’s no part of Vanessa’s day better than lunchtime.

The damn good lunch she’s packed if she’s meal prepped for the week. The myriad of cafeteria options if she hasn’t. The break from the politics and ridiculousness of working in the HR department. The top up of caffeine after her morning coffee begins to wear off.

But the best part of it all? Having forty five minutes to talk smack with Silky and A’keria, gossiping about their love lives and their coworkers and being noisy enough to annoy everyone else in the cafeteria.

Today, Vanessa’s the one partly responsible for inciting their shenanigans. She just can’t help it, not when Aquaria from marketing apparently has a new boyfriend and Vanessa knows for a fact that her new man ain’t gonna make her come as many times as Vanessa had when they were dating.

“I’m telling you, she ain’t never gonna have as good as when she had me.” Vanessa takes a sip of her coke as she watches Aquaria by the vending machine, arm in arm with her man.

“You don’t sound jealous at all, boo.” A’keria’s smile is all too knowing, and Vanessa has to stick her tongue out at her.

“I ain’t jealous.” She isn’t. “Aquaria was a total pillow princess in bed. You think I want that situation again? Nooo, thank you.”

Silky snickers. “We were almost convinced for a second there.”

“Please. I feel bad for her, if anything. She probably ain’t gonna get what she needs from him.” Vanessa tries to picture what the clean cut guy beside Aquaria does in bed. Somehow, with the side part and tucked in shirt and loafers, she finds that she can’t.

“And what is it that she needs? Your tongue? Your fingers?” A’keria wiggles her eyebrows. “Your strap?”

“Y’all hateful.” Vanessa scowls as Silky starts smacking the table from laughing so hard.

“All I’m saying is that Aquaria can do better. Though honestly, so can I. And she wasn’t even my last girlfriend. I can get me the ladies.” Vanessa scoffs as she says it. She totally can. She’s a ladykiller.

She is.

Ish.

“Is that so, Vanj? Tell us, who are the last few girls you got?” A’keria cocks her head, wiggles in her seat like she’s excited for Vanessa’s answer.

Hmph.

“Well. There was Aquaria, obviously. Who was all over me when we were dating. There was Kameron. Ariel. There was Scarlet for a short time, too.”

Silky wrinkles her nose. “Y’know, I always forget you dated Scarlet. That concept’s fucking weird.”

“It was fucking weird. That’s why we broke up so fast.” Vanessa shudders. “All I’m saying, though, is that I can get me a lady. I’m a catch, I really am. Hey, stop laughing!”

A’keria and Silky are too busy guffawing to hear her, and Vanessa can’t take this attack on her reputation, she really can’t. She’s got game, and she knows she can prove it.

“Fine. Name a lady. Any lady that works here, even if she straight. I bet I can get her to go out with me.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “It’s the Vanjie charm.”

“Ooh bitch, you’re asking for it. This gonna be good. We gotta think.” Silky drums her fingers on the table, leans back in her chair as A’keria takes a sip of her drink.

Vanessa takes a bite of her sandwich, tries not to be bothered as Silky and A’keria let out hmmms and I wonders. That is, until Silky slams her fist on the table.

“Brooke Lynn motherfucking Hytes.”

“What-”

“Not her-”

“I said what I said.” Silky gestures to Brooke, one of the firm’s top architecture project managers, currently waiting in line for her coffee across the cafeteria.

A specimen so fine that even Vanessa feels a tingle running down her spine. Or maybe that’s because she needs to pee.

Regardless.

“You land her? I’ll buy your lunch for a month.” Silky leans back in her seat, crosses her arms.

“Shit, really?” Vanessa raises an eyebrow at her. “An entire month?”

“You’re acting like you have a chance of success in the first place.” Silky looks a little too amused for Vanessa’s liking, and she feels herself bristle just a bit.

“I sure as hell do.” Sure, maybe Vanessa’s talking out of her ass, but she’s not gonna show it. Not to Silky and A’keria who are regarding her with smug smiles.

So what if Brooke, in her six inch stilettos and pencil skirt that hugs her ass perfectly, is sure as fuck out of Vanessa’s league? So what if Brooke’s known for turning down men and women alike that try to ask her out without so much as a second glance?

Brooke doesn’t wear a ring, which means that she’s fair game. And Vanessa’s going to make it happen.

“Just you wait. Imma make Miss Hytes fall head over heels for me, fuckers.”

Sure, the drama of Vanessa’s statement is slightly ruined by Silky letting out a snort, but the effect is strong enough.

Vanessa’s not going to have to meal prep for an entire month, if she can play her cards just right.

Brooke Lynn Hytes is a creature of habit.

Waking up, then going on a thirty minute run. Breakfast of kale and egg whites. Reaching work ten minutes early. Touching base with all the leads on her current project, making sure that it’s going smoothly. Getting the work done that she needs to before lunch rolls around, a lunch that she spends on her phone catching up with even more work emails. Working until precisely 4:30 pm, when she can roll out the door in time to make her spin class at 5:15 up in midtown.

There isn’t much that disrupts the routine if she has anything to say about it. That is, until she’s packing up at 4:32 and slipping her coat on and a woman knocks on her office door, entering before she can say anything.

“Hytes, right?” The woman flashes her a smile bright enough to knock out the power in the city, and Brooke’s attention is definitely captured away from her things on her desk.

The woman looks familiar. HR, maybe? Maybe the one who’d come around after John had said lewd things to Brooke’s secretary. Though Brooke’s not sure. “And you are…?”

“Oh! Right.” The woman pauses, sticking out a hand. “Vanessa.”

Brooke shakes the woman’s hand, noting that her grip is firm, something she always likes. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’m here on…non work related business.”  Vanessa’s smile is sheepish, and Brooke pauses, waiting for her to continue, because she has no idea what the business could possibly be.

“So, here’s the thing. I have a bet to win that involves no meal prep for me for an entire month.” Vanessa drums her fingers on Brooke’s desk, almost nervously.  

Brooke raises an eyebrow. “What does that have to do with me?”

She’s never really interacted with Vanessa before, so she’s not sure how-

“The bet involves you, too.” Vanessa’s fidgety now, and it almost makes Brooke want to laugh, how nervous she is. “Two coworkers bet that I couldn’t get you to go out with me.”

Really?

Brooke snorts, because really, she should have expected it. “Did they, now?”

“Listen, I know it sounds wack-”

“No thanks.” Brooke goes back to packing up her things, tucking confidential files into the drawers of her desk, pulling her coat over her shoulders. “Don’t think I can help you out with that.”

Vanessa, for her part, remains unperturbed. “There’s perks. You can split the free food with me.”

Brooke snorts. “While that’s a very generous offer, I’m still going to have to say no.”

“Aw, why not?” Vanessa comes around the side of her desk, and Brooke gets a good look at her. She’s looking up at Brooke with a defiant expression in her eyes, one that doesn’t want to take no for an answer, and Brooke almost respects it.

But she also has a spin class to get to, which means that ‘almost’ isn’t really enough to make her want to be late.

“Okay, look.” Vanessa continues when Brooke doesn’t answer, instead focused on zipping up her coat. “This ain’t all just for my benefit. It could help you too.”

“Oh yeah? How so?” Brooke lets her keep talking for the sole fact that she wants to see where Vanessa’s reasoning will go. Vanessa’s incredibly entertaining, as much as Brooke doesn’t want to admit it.

“Ain’t there lots of people who try and snatch you up? You’re like The Bachelorette of this office building.”

Brooke has to hold back a laugh. “There are people that have tried to ask me out, yes. But I wouldn’t necessarily call myself that.”

“Chris Harrison must be lurking around here somewhere to host a season for you.” Vanessa’s grinning, and Brooke can’t help but notice how cute it is. “I’d wanna be on that season.”

“Would you now?”

“Yeah, but that’s not the point. The point is, you got lotsa people bothering you, right? This way you can pretend to date me and just say you’re taken.” Vanessa’s looking at her like she’s just solved the world’s biggest math problem.

“I don’t know if that would necessarily work. We’d have to convince people that we were actually together, first of all.”

Vanessa waves a hand. “It ain’t gonna take Oscar-worthy acting to fool these buffoons. We could do it. Plus, ain’t you got people who bother you about finding someone? Friends and shit?”

Brooke thinks back to her last get together with Nina, when they’d gotten drinks and Nina kept waving her engagement ring around like it was a prized possession, like having a ring on her finger had magically solved all of her problems. Which it hadn’t, obviously, because despite the engagement ring Nina still has to deal with her car transmission needing repairs and her boyfriend (fiancé) coming home from work too late. So what’s the point, really?

Though it never stops Nina and Courtney and Steve from trying to set Brooke up with their friends (‘wanna go out with her, she kissed me in college which means she’s definitely still a lesbian, right?’), from them lamenting on and on that Brooke will eventually find the right person, she will, despite the fact that Brooke doesn’t really care.

Or want to find anyone, really.

Brooke’s got her job and her vibrator. The only two things she needs in life, really, for fulfillment.

But Vanessa’s still standing there in her too tall heels that don’t do much to increase her height, really, an expectant look on her face as she waits for Brooke’s answer, Brooke can tell that Vanessa’s already gotten her figured out.

“Maybe.”

“This can get them off your back. All we gotta do is show up at some social engagements and work events and shit and, bam. Fake couple. We both get a payout.” Vanessa grins, really grins, rubbing her hands together like a scheming cartoon villain, and Brooke can’t help how entertaining she finds her.

“You’re still offering half of your free lunches?” Brooke holds back a snort.

“We can cross that bridge when we get to it.” Vanessa waves a hand, before reaching across Brooke’s desk to grab the stack of post-it notes that sits next to her coffee mug.

Vanessa scrawls ten digits in messy handwriting, sliding them across the desk towards Brooke. “In the meantime? Think about it. Get back to me. You can be part of the greatest finesse ever pulled at this godforsaken office. All you gotta do is say yes.”

With that, Vanessa turns on her heel and leaves, but not before shooting a wink in Brooke’s direction. Brooke finds herself stuck in place for longer than she wants to admit, replaying the sway in Vanessa’s hips as she lets the door close behind her.

She snaps out of it when she looks down at the numbers scrawled on the post-it note, followed by a short, almost indecipherable message in messy handwriting.

U know how to reach me. Xoxoxo, V.  

The text comes through a couple of days later when Vanessa’s going over some policy that her supervisor wants to review again for the millionth time, and she nearly drops her phone in excitement when the unknown number pops up, because finally.

Fine. We can try to do this.

“Yesssss!” Vanessa can’t help the little fist pump that escapes her, because Brooke’s agreed and she gets free food but most importantly, the chance to rub it in the faces of Silky and A’keria.

Vanessa saves the number as quick as she can before replying.

VVM: knew u would see the light sooner or later.

BLH: awful presumptuous.

VVM: it’s just smart business!

BLH: how is any of this a business deal?

VVM: I dunno but I sure as hell am feeling as smug as the suits in our office building.

BLH: regardless, we gotta lay down some ground rules. For this to even work.

VVM: I’m snoozing already

VVM: let’s do this over lunch

BLH: are you food motivated for everything in your life?

VVM: maybe

VVM: Benny’s at 12:30?

BLH: unbelievable

BLH: see you then

Benny’s Sandwich Shop is a hole in the wall across the street from their office building that, in Vanessa’s eyes, has the best damn paninis in the city. She rubs her hands together in excitement before digging into her veggie grilled sandwich, wanting to make it last as long as possible.

Brooke’s sitting across the table, and looking at her with a slightly raised eyebrow. “That excited for your sandwich?”

Vanessa scoffs at the sad looking bowl in front of Brooke. “Better than coming to a sandwich shop and ordering a damn salad. What are you, a rabbit?”

“A rabbit who knows what she likes.” Brooke raises her fork towards Vanessa before taking a bite. “So. Rules.”

“Right, rules.” Vanessa rummages in her bag before pulling out a notebook and pen. She’s not going to be unprepared, not when she can get free lunch from A’keria out of it. “Number one, no dating anyone else while we faking it. Obviously.”

“You’re acting as if that’s a rule I would break.” Brooke has a smile playing on her lips and Vanessa scoffs.

“Just being thorough. I won’t either, so.”

“Or I’d be so heartbroken if you did.”

Vanessa sticks her tongue out at Brooke, who seems to be enjoying their situation way too much. “Not even an hour into fake dating and you already pulling on my pigtails.”

“Sorry.” Brooke winks and Vanessa’s breath absolutely does not hitch in her throat at the sight, no ma’am. “Rule two?”

“We gotta show up at some events together. To sell it and all that, otherwise A’keria ain’t gonna buy it.” Vanessa can already see A’keria’s piercing gaze, can already hear the soft mmmhm that she always lets out whenever she gets suspicious.

“Doable.” Brooke writes it down in the notebook. “Events like what?”

“Like some group dinners or evenings out, or holiday or New Years parties coming up, shit like that. To make it look like we cuffed for the season.” Vanessa pictures going to holiday parties with Brooke hanging off of her arm, maybe in a tight dress that hugs her-

She needs to focus.

“Okay. Rule three?” Brooke’s pen is poised to write and Vanessa kinda likes it, how in sync they are already.

Vanessa almost doesn’t want to bring up the next one, but since it’ll be a big component of faking a relationship, she grits her teeth and leans forward on the table to ask the question. “PDA. Thoughts?”

Brooke wrinkles her nose. “Not too big on overdoing it, but I can take some pecks here and there. Holding hands, being arm in arm.”

Vanessa nearly awws, because Brooke’s description is akin to the time in seventh grade when she’d ‘dated’ a boy in her class for three weeks before he broke up with her by the baseball diamond.

Not her finest moment, dating wise.

“I can do that.” The more she thinks about it, the more Vanessa is open to the idea. Participating in all of the innocent, early parts of a relationship, the ones viewed by everyone.

A small part of Vanessa wonders how Brooke’s hand will fit in hers, if it’ll be warm or cold. If she’ll fit against Brooke’s side like she belongs there. She’s excited to find out.

Brooke leans forward in her seat. “Not a rule but - how are we going to tell people we started seeing each other? What will the story be?”

Vanessa pauses and thinks, really thinks. She wants it to be elaborate but not so elaborate that it’s unbelievable, but just enough detail to convince others that their story is authentic.

“Easy. We ran into each other in the hall and you spilled coffee on my shirt and helped me clean it up in the bathroom, and the rest is history.” Vanessa’s proud of her imagination, really, until Brooke snorts.

“So we started dating because you took your shirt off?”

Vanessa huffs. “Got any better ideas?”

“Sticking with the coffee theme, here’s one. We started talking in the line for Starbucks and coincidentally ordered the same drink, then sat and talked about it, before talking about other things. Then you left your number on my cup before you left.” Brooke looks entirely too pleased with herself, the smile lighting her features as she takes a bite of her salad.

Vanessa’s not sold, though. “Why am I the one who writes the number?”

“Why, never had the balls to leave a lady your number before?”

“Hey.” Vanessa swats at Brooke’s arm, ignores the way she’s snickering. She knows that Brooke’s trying to bait her, she is, that somehow she’s already figured out the way that Vanessa ticks.

Doesn’t mean she’s going to try something different this time, though.

“Fine. I write the number. Let’s go with yours.” Vanessa lets out a huff before grabbing the pen from Brooke’s hand, writing their origin story on a corner of the page.

But they need to get back to the task at hand, something that Vanessa realizes when she puts the lid back on her pen. She uncaps it once more. “Rule number four. Social media. We gotta add each other on Instagram and post with each other here and there.”

“All I post on Instagram are my two cats.” Brooke’s smile is sheepish and Vanessa can’t help but let out a snort.

“Shit, you sure you ain’t a crazy cat lady?” Vanessa winks at her before reaching out, grabbing her hand, something that feels more right than it should. “We’ll sprinkle in some actual humans in between the cats.”

Brooke squeezes her hand back, something that doesn’t escape her notice. “Fine. Gimme your phone so I can add myself.”

Vanessa files a note to herself to stalk through Brooke’s instagram later after Brooke accepts her follow request, to look past the cats and for some more information about her, maybe about her past exes-

Nah. Just to be thorough, make sure she knows just enough.

Brooke holds up her own phone, the screen on a boomerang of Vanessa on holiday with Silky, facing away from the camera and pulling her bikini bottoms down for just a second. “Seems like your vacations are fun.”

“Bitch-hey. ” Vanessa tries to reach for Brooke’s phone but Brooke’s arms are longer, easily holding the phone out of Vanessa’s way.

“I feel like I’m going to have a great time scrolling through your instagram, I really do.” Brooke’s looking smug, too smug, and Vanessa huffs.

“Don’t think I won’t find your weird ass posts, too.”

Brooke’s eyes are sparkling. “I know you will. Though I’m not as defensive as you are.“

“Okay, last rule.” Vanessa shoves the notebook in between them, intent on distracting Brooke from her nightmare of an Instagram account. “Five seems like a good place to end. Any ideas?”

“I got one.” Brooke leans forward in her seat slightly. “Promise not to fall in love with me by the end of this.”

Vanessa lets out a laugh, an actual laugh, because Brooke is awful presumptuous. “I’m only in this for free food and bragging rights against A’keria. That won’t be a problem at all, don’t you worry your little blonde head.” She pauses, looking back over at Brooke, who still has a shit eating grin on her face. “And you can’t fall in love with me, either. I know I’m irresistible and all that, but-”

Brooke raises an eyebrow. “Please. I’m just doing this to get my friends off my back. You’ll be just fine.”

Vanessa wonders what it’ll be like meeting Brooke’s friends. What they’re like, what they’ll think of her. Not that it matters, really, since it’s all gonna be fake. But still.

“I think that about covers it all.” Vanessa looks at their list, pleased with how it’s all beginning to come together. “We’ll be able to fool these hoes, easy.”

“You think so?” Brooke trails her pen over the list, as if she’s trying to find something that they’ve missed.

“I know so. And hey, if we wanna add or take something out, we can always change it. This list open to edits.”

Brooke looks satisfied. “Good. And like any good paper contract, we have to sign on the dotted line.”

Her signature on the bottom of the page is fancy, all loops and flourishes and Vanessa can’t help but scoff. “What kinda extra-ass signature is that?”

“A nice one. Yours is boring.” Brooke points to Vanessa’s, smaller and definitely one with less loops and Vanessa crosses her arms.

“You’re boring.”

“Ooh, great comeback.” Brooke’s smiling, though, and it keeps Vanessa from wanting to reach over the table and shove her. “So, are we good to go?”

Vanessa sticks out a hand and Brooke shakes it with a firm grip. “That we are, blondie. Time to pull the greatest trick that our office ever did see.”

Rules:

No dating anyone else.

Show up at events together.

Light PDA only.

Interact on social media like a couple.

No falling in love.

Instagram story posted by @vanessavanjie. Location: @bennysdiner. Tagged: @bhytes. Description: A boomerang of Brooke Lynn Hytes sitting at a table, munching on what appears to be a salad. A gif of a rabbit eating a carrot is in the bottom left corner.

[starwrite-er]

D.U.P Helpline - Delsin Rowe x Reader

A/N: the snippets of convo with the DUP Helpline whenever Delsin graffitis a billboard are acc great lmao so here’s my spin on the situation lol. also shoutout to Zoe for helping me with a phone operator name lmao

 “Hi, you have reached the D.U.P helpline, do you have a Bio-Terrorist incident to report?” I answer the call, taking the place of my coworker. After around the seventh call about someone spray painting one of the DUP billboards littered across Seattle, she’d had enough and needed a break. Unsurprisingly, his most recent call had revealed him to be ‘Delsin Rowe’, the guy that had been wrecking havoc on the D.U.P across the city recently.

 “You’re not the lady that usually picks up.” The man on the other end of the line states.

 “She’s on a break,” I reply. “Too many billboards being defiled.”

 “Damn, and I was just about to get her to finally introduce herself.” The man laughs, making it clear that this is the guy that’s been pissing off my coworker the past couple days.

 “If I were to hazard a guess and say that another one of our billboards has been vandalised, would I be wrong?” I question.

 “Not at all.” The man taunts and hangs up. Hm, I can see why my coworker was so worked up about this guy.

 Maybe I’ll cover her shift again.

 And like clockwork, the next day another call is received. “Hi, you have reached the D.U.P helpline, do you have a Bio-Terrorist incident to report?” I ask, as per protocol.

 “Hey, it’s you again. You taking over the other lady’s job?” The guy from before is the one making the call.

 “Well, after she called you ‘infuriating’ amongst other things, I offered. Another billboard?” I answer.

 “You all make it so easy.” I can practically hear his grin. In the spur of the moment, I decide to humour this hobby of his.

 “I’m surprised you haven’t tagged the billboard in the Waterfront district,” I mention, knowing fully well I shouldn’t encourage him. “I mean, after all, it is the only sign our, ah, mutual friend has to walk by every day.”

 On the other end of the line, I can hear the man chuckle. “Oh, you aren’t what I expected.” With that, he hangs up.

 The following morning, Tina walks in, absolutely fuming. “That dirty bio-terrorist defiled the billboard by my apartment!” She rages, slamming the folder she’s carrying onto her desk. I bite my lip, repressing a grin as, right on cue, we get a call in. Tina glares as I pick up.

 “Hi, you have reached the D.U.P helpline, do you have a Bio-Terrorist incident to report?” I ask in the same manner as usual.

 “Yeah, hi, I was just wondering if you had any plans tonight? I know this great billboard that’s been recently painted over, it’s quite lovely.” The now-familiar voice of Delsin Rowe replies, and I let a small smile slip onto my face.

 “Well, Mr. Rowe, I’m not allowed to disclose that information, but, hey, my coworker was just talking about it!” I respond, eyes darting over to Tina. I lean back in my chair and give her a small wave, grinning. “I have her right here, wanna say hi?”

 “Y/N, what on Earth...” Tina watches me, eyes narrowed.

 “I’m afraid I see your friends coming my way, but send her my love!” Delsin Rowe continues the joke, hanging up as the D.U.P troops arrive at his location.

 “He sends you his love.” I smile innocently at my coworker, her eyes still trained on me as she shakes her head. She turns away, mumbling insults directed towards Bio-Terrorists under her breath.

 I take a moment, taking a deep breath as I question my choices. It was more than draining to work in a business built up around the fear and loathing of conduits, but at the time, I was in desperate need of a job, and the D.U.P was hiring.

 To be honest, it’s a miracle that their genetic testing only showed me as being gene-positive rather than activated.

 That evening, on the way home, I purposely took a detour to check out the billboard Delsin just graffitied over to piss off my coworker. I pause on the street, looking up at the painted bird. I duck into an alley and, glancing around to check no one is around, flick my wrist and send myself propelling upwards.

 I land on the metal mesh and take a seat, mulling it all over. I’m not sure what I’m expecting - it’s not as though I’m going to meet the conduit I’ve spoken to over the phone the past couple days.

 That being said, there’s nothing stopping me from leaving a note.

 Guilty, I check around once more, a marker in hand as I write a small message in the corner. ‘Sent your love to Tina the Helpline Operator - dunno if it’s requited though’. As subtly as I can, I manipulate the pigment around the message, arranging the paint into a little blue cartoon telephone that contrasts against the red background.

 “You aren’t painting over my work, are you?” I jump as a voice breaks the quiet of the rooftop. Taking a few rushed steps back, I see the man standing on the other end of the platform, leaning back against the billboard.

 “Uh, no,” I say, internally cringing at how suspicious I look and sound. He raises his brows at me in what seems like disbelief, when something clicks. “Wait, your work?”

 The guy smirks at me as I realise that this must be Delsin Rowe. He takes a couple steps towards me, looking down to see the message, mumbling the words under his breath as he scans over what I’d written.

 “So, you’re the girl that’s answered the helpline the past couple days?” He makes the connection and grins at me.

 “Yeah.” I shrug, unsure as to how to continue. He studies my face for a moment, the cogs in his head whirring.

 “For a D.U.P employee, you’re pretty relaxed around a conduit.” Delsin remarks, and I laugh dryly.

 “I’m only there because they paid well enough and their systems were faulty at my time of application.” I respond, to which I receive a look of mild confusion. I wiggle my fingers in the direction of the message I wrote, making the small painting of the telephone dance around the writing. Delsin watches, slack-jawed.

 “You’re a paint conduit?” He questions, casting his gaze back towards my face. I nod in answer, and a grin breaks out across his face. “Hey, I noticed an untagged D.U.P billboard on the way over. Wanna check it out?”

 “At this rate, you’re gonna run out soon,” I laugh. “That being said, I’d love to.”

 I take up his offer, and he takes my hand.

[chumpmagump]

woah wild shana appears on tumblr sporadically  feelin real basic i dont have good intro soz  no one reads this shit anyway so why do i care? why am i putting a question mark? why am i still acting like i have an audience okay back to the basic pop music and basic thoughts mainly because i need some mainstream shit after being flooded by people who are ‘’ interesting’’ maybe too interesting, their brain is like the school of thought compacted into 10 minute conversations though. So everything is WOAH INTENSE 

im on my second cup of chai so i feel alright for typing shit that doesnt make sense  but seriously, you know those people who just seem very cultured and their brain has no filter, they can talk about stuff for 50 minutes and then realise theyve been talking a whole lot and go to ask you something but you’re just so fizzled out you can’t possibly think of something witty to say. idk man, my social game is off probably because my new job has got me aching for movies and just generally a good cuddle and 8 hours of sleep. 

why do people feel the need to talk constantly talk in metaphors, its like shakespreare shit. this is why god old bogan talk can be weirdly refreshing if youve been living around artsy farsty cities. nothing like a ‘’ i’m good aye, whats been hapening in your block’’ to reset. the guys im seeing are cool ( dont appreciate the not so honest honesty tho, will have to chat about that), the kind i wouldnt take to see my friends because my friends are just too chill for that like letstalkabouttheuniverserandomly. idk, theyre uni students who live a routined life not musicians or travel escapists  haha, no seriously its so nice to chill with people who kind of make my brain fizz at the beginning, it makes me realise how flat and dead i have been inside in previous relationships.

i dont have time for friends who (ironically are guys) think me seeing multiple people is disgusting or stupid because i sleep with them. Yeah you can say you wouldnt do it personally, or like it. But once you bring the argument into it that it’s gross to sleep around you are immediately associating sex with respect and to me that screams  i’m insecure and use sex as a weapon. Hell one of my friends said he didnt even want to hear about my meetings with new people. literally lost respect for me type thing.  so yeah, two friends out of the picture unless they wanna maybe realise what they said does have a direct correlation to their view of me. 

you cant just say to someone, i think its stupid to hook up with people and disgusting but then cover it with a lovely shade of pink in ‘’ but i dont see you as any less of a person’’. it doesnt make any sense and if anything i still lose respect for  you, for your slut shaming tactics.

I’m not meeting people with the intent to have sex all the time, and even if i was why should that bother someone to the point they lose respect for a person?  shoutout to cody, aprelle, julian and emma for understanding these wild concepts.

work is crazy, im finally learning my bartending shit, it’s interesting and i feel overworked and underpaid in this particular venue though. next year i think i’ll move on. 

some coworkers wow amazing how much a person can be an asshole and still live for others to tell the tale. 

bite my tongue and move the fuck on with a small ‘‘ fuckin bitch’‘ under the breathe. Imma have to get tactful in maybe making them feel a bit passively guilty about their actions otherwise i will just bust out some kendrick lyrics  no wonder people are dead assholes irl who work in hospo.  please dont kill my soil, kill it enough so i can scald and rebuild new flesh that can tolerate asshole level beta though. please, thanks anyway Vsauce , hotel hell and school of life youtube vids and chai have been heloing me restore battery life so maybe this week i can bust out of my shell and actually feel like an active participant rather than a silent observer. im done feeling like what i say doesnt matter, if it doesnt then why do i need you in mylife? thats on you,  not me  time to restore myself, learning baby steps all over again.  essentially thats how we die inside and thats how free spirits or people who dont conform to society look so appealing yet annoying, because we envy them. we wish we could have the guts to break out of the conformity that holds us, dance in street, sing loudly in a public bathroom yet we dont because we are forced to keep our children (inner child) tucked quietly away until home time.’ hence why bruno mars and chai is on my agenda tonight. 

we die when reach that age considered ‘’ young adult’’, yknow the age where the head school coordinator gathers all the kids in grade 8, with a speech of mumbo jumbo, ‘’have fun,... but you also have to know your shit, don’t be young and free, i mean be young and free but do your taxes’’’

its just science, we are socially learnt from young people that being a ‘’young adult’’ comes with the responsibility of not playing with toys, time to learn finance, but you can reserve play time for saturdays and evenings.. yet only selective playtime is appropriate for young adults.. which is still not play time is it? drugs, alcohol, sex , yknow the adullt playtime.  hell even your playtime isnt free and is run by some  invisible societal king. oo what would happen if someone farted in public? the king comes down from his throne and instills a worthy crime of .. nothing. that’s what i mean we are playing ourselves, we’re all fools.

so yes maybe i wont fart in public but ill be working on realising there is no king.