"Yeah, sure, why not? If that's what you want too, then do it." Julie has always been a proponent of doing whatever strikes her. She shrugs. "What's the worst that happens? Well, I mean, okay, he could always kill you and chop your body up, Dahmer-style, but that's such a small chance. And you'll tell me his name so I can burn him from the inside out as punishment even if it happens. So he'd get his, if that's his game. But realistically, what, he tries to ghost?" She laughs a little. "There's like fifty of us, total. Maybe twenty-five in Cadens, max. Good luck to him, in that case."
It actually makes hook-ups both more and less complicated; more complicated because there's no avoiding each other, but less complicated because it's sort of destigmatizing to know that they're going to have to overlap. What other choices do they have? Fuck natives? Ew.
Well, ew for the human natives, at least. Some of the werewolves, vampires and Fey are unfairly hot.
Nodding, Julie sucks her teeth. Social media was a bitch, all right, but she can't say that she doesn't miss it. What she has found, though, is that she doesn't necessarily miss the part of social media where she just stared at filtered Hollywood elites, hating that she wasn't one of them; no, what she misses are the fun parts of it. Funny videos, comment sections, the parts that made time slip away.
"Hailey Bieber was a liar and a dumbass," Julie says archly. "Her face was pumped full of filler and carved like a Christmas ham, and the only reason she wasn't workin' the stock room at American Apparel is 'cause her dad was the worst Baldwin. Same as Kylie and Kendall, the Hadids, all of those girls. At least Kim went through the trouble of fuckin' her way to the top. The rest were just born on third, convinced they hit a triple."
Julie has opinions on Hollywood "It" girls.
"Your tits are fine. Unless you are a secret genius at stuffin', they don't look different. Isn't that what's important? That they look the same, to the eye?" Her brow knits, and Julie touches her own breasts, sincerely considering each handful before she shakes her head. "Plus, honestly, unless one of 'em straight shrivels and falls off, literally no guy will ever notice a difference. And even then, they won't care. Guys just want to see 'em. Girls don't care either, by the way."
She takes a long sip of coffee, then raises her eyebrows. "Why do you think your thighs are fat? Compared to what?"
no subject
It actually makes hook-ups both more and less complicated; more complicated because there's no avoiding each other, but less complicated because it's sort of destigmatizing to know that they're going to have to overlap. What other choices do they have? Fuck natives? Ew.
Well, ew for the human natives, at least. Some of the werewolves, vampires and Fey are unfairly hot.
Nodding, Julie sucks her teeth. Social media was a bitch, all right, but she can't say that she doesn't miss it. What she has found, though, is that she doesn't necessarily miss the part of social media where she just stared at filtered Hollywood elites, hating that she wasn't one of them; no, what she misses are the fun parts of it. Funny videos, comment sections, the parts that made time slip away.
"Hailey Bieber was a liar and a dumbass," Julie says archly. "Her face was pumped full of filler and carved like a Christmas ham, and the only reason she wasn't workin' the stock room at American Apparel is 'cause her dad was the worst Baldwin. Same as Kylie and Kendall, the Hadids, all of those girls. At least Kim went through the trouble of fuckin' her way to the top. The rest were just born on third, convinced they hit a triple."
Julie has opinions on Hollywood "It" girls.
"Your tits are fine. Unless you are a secret genius at stuffin', they don't look different. Isn't that what's important? That they look the same, to the eye?" Her brow knits, and Julie touches her own breasts, sincerely considering each handful before she shakes her head. "Plus, honestly, unless one of 'em straight shrivels and falls off, literally no guy will ever notice a difference. And even then, they won't care. Guys just want to see 'em. Girls don't care either, by the way."
She takes a long sip of coffee, then raises her eyebrows. "Why do you think your thighs are fat? Compared to what?"