#makomako

korimako (bellbird) sitting on a harakeke flower that i drew for my grandma 👍👍

puts him in a sketchie litle milgram outfit

bonus He Will Never Get Colored

Continuation from here

For the fifth night in a row, the young man has dreamt of... himself. There was no simple way to put this, but he was dreaming of kissing himself. The male was never narcissistic, nor would he ever imagine himself to participate in such lustful and intimate acts with himself... 

Yet, somehow, he could never hold back. He would be drawn to the kiss, and suck softly on plump flesh. He would taste the sweetness as his tongue danced shyly against the other’s. It felt immensely real, and always drew the truest of feelings out of his heart and.. body every morning. 

He moved closer to the other, hands moving down the shirt that he had unbuttoned many times. His lips were attracted to the male’s neck, and he moaned softly as he began sucking. Somehow, such acts brought him pleasure that could be felt by both the giver and the receiver. It was indeed strange, and Makoto felt as if he had no control over the situation... 

“Who are you..” He ended whispering between kisses, “Why are you so like me, yet... so different...”