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#𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐒, an independent collection of milfs original and canon characters —— selective, mature and triggering themes, 21+. as narrated by rylan.

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something’s cookin’

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this is robin.

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please consider:

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piece of crap ♥

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Valentina Bellè by Paolo Leone

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maybe i’m bringing robin on this blog and :/

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me w all my favorite muses: so here’s a piece of shit ...

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what if i did something extremely 2008 of me and wrote a vampire again... what if...

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DAKOTA JOHNSON The High Note (2020)   

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PLOTTING CALL!

i will slowly try to get back to things on here, but in the meantime i would really love to get some plots going, so if you’d like to plot something with any of these muses please GIVE THIS A LIKE and i’ll hit you up ♥

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A MANDATORY I’M ALIVE POST ! this blog hasn’t been abandoned, i promise, it’s just ultra low activity rn while fred demands 165% of my attention —— BUT, IF YOU WANNA PLOT / WRITE i am more than willing to do that on dicksco so if we’re mutuals please feel free to add me @ hey rosey#8632 ! 

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i come here, write exactly one (1) reply, disappear again

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𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆    /    kalixus​.

      »   𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑   :   𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙈𝙐𝙏𝙐𝘼𝙇𝙎 .

                    “  𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘 , 𝐈 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔.  ”   he could only derive enough energy for a partial groan.   “  completely  my fault   ,   not yours.  don’t worry about it. ”  

                        he hated the feeling of waking up after a sedative.  those were tricky , weren’t they?  poe tried to amp their tolerances and their abilities to fight intoxicated , but sedatives were probably how david actually beat goliath.  that , or laxatives.   larsson has an irrational fear of laxatives , so should you.  he blinked  ,  hard .   trying his best to shake the fog over his senses by at least taking in his environment.  but he couldn’t quite do that right , either.  

                        because it was   pitch black  ,  he was tied down in a dark room with the other’s voice echoing from the left.  or maybe the right  ,  he wasn’t sure.  the feeling of sleep began to settle in again  ,  causing him to groan in another sad attempt of keeping hold of his senses.   

                       “  so , what’s the deal here?  should i be begging for my life , crying for mercy , or is this a sex thing?  becuase if it’s a sex thing , i gotta admit ——   not off to a very sexy start.    ”

“ aw. honey, that’s a bit rude —— ”. it’s a picture perfect pout that curls her lips, the slight trembling the one you could find on an emotional child in some daytime christmas movie —— hell, it would be even half believable, all in all. it’s just everything surrounding her that breaks the immersion. it’s the bare concrete walls of the warehouse. it’s the smell of mold and a particularly delicate mix of rat piss and vomit in the air. it’s the faint light, greenish and flickering enough to be nauseating, blurring squares into the pavement as it trickles from the windows.

it’s that he’s not an idiot and these games of hers just aren’t particularly sophisticated.

“ you seem awfully talkative, considering the amount of stuff i put into you ”. there’s an amused smirk over her lips while she taps her finger over her bottom lip, an artist in contemplation of her options. this isn’t her hunting ground —— this warehouse is but an abandoned lot that seemed worn down enough to serve her purpose while she hangs around this neck of the woods. none of her usual resources are here. not too much of a set back —— she never really learned to rely on specific equipment, her creativity comes from resourcefulness. the warehouse, at least, offers its fair share of options: rust-covered chains, nails of varying width and sharpness, an array of tools by now too blunt and dirty to provide a swift release. and there is, of course, her jacket —— secret pockets holding morbid discoveries of illegal peppers, acids and drugs, a tiny pack of needles courtesy of a former lover in the business of pain.

really, he’s in for a show.

“ i like that in a guy ”, fingers wrap around his chin, grabbing it a bit too roughly through that’s not her intention —— she turns his face one side, then the other, examines the look in his eyes to gauge how much of his dialogue is the drugs speaking —— how reliable an informer he can be. “ it’s entertaining ”. satisfied, she sits two steps away from him —— cross-legged on the floor, chin over her closed fists, a child awaiting story time. 

“ so, larsson —— ”, katya snorts, narrows her eyes. “ no offense, but really ? larsson ? what, dan brown was taken ? ”

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LIKE TO GET MEMES / specify a muse please!

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i think beck deserves a lot of smooches tbh

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hi you're amazing

hey no offense but i love you what the frickle frackle :cccc