You cannot just fuck him… you must seduce him. Yes, there is a difference: the breath in his ear, the arch in your balk when he thinks he is making you finish. The look in your eyes when you finally breathe again, that tells him you would do anything he asked in that moment, anything at all without hesitation. The story you tell him that night about when you were a little girl, about the place you hid from your mother where the world was quiet, a story you’ve never told another soul. The look of confusion you show him when you wake up the next morning, which shows him despite the thousand other men you’ve awoken beside, that he is unique. That he has seen you vulnerable, and that you cannot live without him.
You killed a friend of mine.
Her name was Charlotte, and you did it for reasons that had nothing to do with her.
There were men I knew that would’ve killed you for me.
I wanted to ask them.
Had the money.
But Max refused.
I couldn’t tell then if it was because she was afraid of you.
Wouldn’t have blamed her.
I was.
Or if it was something else.
But I respected her wishes.
Obeyed when she said we’d protect you despite what you’d done…
The past three weeks @riisinaakka-draws, @krimsnkramsart and myself have been working on this project known as the switcharound meme. The idea is that you each draw a sketch and pass it onto the next person who turns the sketch into lineart, and then you pass the lineart onto the last person who colours it.
shesaheroyousee 