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it was grimy as hell when i found it. i got it into the bathtub but it didn't seem to know how to wash itself. it really doesn't like being touched but i had to clean it up myself. spent a while digging caked on dirt out of its back feathers while it squirmed around in the tub.

seems like it can't really see or hear much, and one of its arms is cracked off like a marble statue. weird, since the rest of it is so soft to the touch. its halo is all cracked and chipped as well. maybe it did get hit by a car or something.

sometimes it'll wander around the house. i hear it knock shit over occasionally, and i usually find it on the ground covering its head in shame. i don't know how to tell the poor thing that knocking over a lamp is not a big deal and also pretty understandable for a blind angel in an unfamiliar space. i usually just bring it back to its spot under my desk. it squirms like a cat a bit when i pick it up but doesn't stop me. it's a lot lighter than i would've expected.

one time i was playing music while cleaning and found it pressing its head against the speaker. maybe it can hear a little after all? maybe the vibrations remind it of other angels. maybe it's just a black sabbath fan lol.

brought it on a hike earlier. it's been in my apartment for a while and i was worried it was going stir crazy. it was pretty slow going cause i had to help it not trip over roots and stuff but it seemed to be enjoying the fresh air. we passed a radio tower at one point and it wouldn't stop staring at it.

i had to pick it up a couple times to navigate some rocky areas and it doesn't seem to mind anymore. by the end i swear it was enjoying it. it's light enough that i can lift it one-handed and hold it against my chest, it'd just put its arm around my shoulders and sit there looking smug.

we were both completely beat by the time we got home, though. tucked the angel into its dog bed and collapsed into mine. right as i was about to pass out, though, i felt it worm its way into my bed and curl up in my arms. dreamt i was flying.

it started when i brought the angel to a house show a few weeks ago. i was kinda worried about the number of people, and it did spend most of the night hiding under my jacket, but it seemed like it was enjoying itself. got a lot of compliments on its halo.

i drank a few beers while we were there, and i got one for the angel too. once it figured out how to extract the beer from the can, it seemed to like it. we were both pretty drunk by the time we left, and it was being a lot clingier than usual. i guess angels are lightweights. figures.

when we got home it grabbed me by the hand and led me to the bathtub. it'd never done that before, but i figured it was just feeling grimy from the show. it was squirming around more than usual while i dug the dirt out of its back feathers, though, and when i was halfway done, i realized it had been fucking fingering itself the whole time.

now, i know what i said about getting struck by lightning and all that, but to be honest i was still pretty drunk at this point. so i did what any responsible intoxicated angel owner would do: i stopped grooming it, lifted it up by the hips, and ate it out until it was a trembling mess in the bottom of the tub.

so. do you want to know why i've been gone for a month? here's another question: did you know that angel cum is an extremely potent aphrodisiac? because i sure fucking didn't!! i got a mouthful of it and...honestly my memory is a little hazy but i'm pretty sure i spent a whole month fucking that stupid thing. not only is it a little wierdo, it's a pervert too.

they bottom out and take a moment to let you adjust to the size, holding you down just by one hand on your leg, your arms pinned beneath your thighs and their body weight. it’s not their fault if they don’t wait long enough before they start properly fucking you, it feels good and they can’t help it. your cries of protest slowly melting into praise, which slowly melts into incoherent whimpers as your composure falls away and you become just as desperate as them, barely able to tell your puppy how good they’re doing.

their hand coming up to your mouth to quiet your whines, asking you if they can knot you to make sure they’re keeping you bred and full in a mocking tone. they know you can’t answer, and you know they were going to do it even if you could’ve said something. being completely overwhelmed from being full and their body pressing yours down and their teeth bruising your skin and your oxygen being cut off, hips twitching a few times before you lose consciousness.

Lights my blunt