#explitus

yes, hello? god? it’s me. what the fuck

i ,, ,, , i actually did forget about that what kind of fucked up shit am i writing

             IT WAS HER FIRST MOVE, and where it lacked in a significant body count, she could only hope that the message was still clear. she’d been proud of her men, of reese and cerise especially, for carrying it out, knowing what it could –– what it would –– bring down on their doors. but still, she celebrated. barefoot in the kitchen of the brownstone when she heard car doors. “–––– go see who that is,” she offered to a man in a suit as she poured wine.

             “ i think i’m going to need to pretend to be DEAD this weekend. “ a soft sigh passes her lips as her head settles on his shoulder.

                 ❛ you know what i’ve never had before? goldschläger. we should get some. ❜ mused aloud as she lounges around on his couch, feet kicked up on the back of it, red hair spilling onto the floor in waves. 

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