MIG WHt is this ATABOOK PICTURE GET THIS OFF MY SCREEN THIS ISNNAT

signs ata

TSURUMI KIN GOD MIG @EVERYONE HELLO

i found the files

mig u smell like farts ok bye bye mig

heehee.

hi mig im mango's oomf

HIHIHI I JUST SAW YOUR JONATHAN PONY and HES SO PRETTYY the shadings are so good and detailed anyway,,have a good day!!

i feel betrayed rechecking your atabook, fellow jojo oomf

hello ... coming her as well since you signed my ata .... clean my bellay...

whoever made that mini jonadio fanfic i love you cus that was lowk fire

what's your opinion on incest

What Jonathan and Dio have is, as far as Dio is concerned, a mutually beneficial arrangement. Jonathan has all the sex drive (and experience) of a horny teenager, and Dio, in his infinite benevolence, might occasionally grace Jonathan’s cock with his mouth. He doesn’t do it very often (and here, you see, is where Dio benefits from their dynamic), because he doesn’t want to spoil Jonathan, and more importantly he wants to keep him guessing. There is no rhyme or reason to their nightly rendezvous, which has the lovely effect of keeping Jonathan constantly on edge when Dio’s around. So Dio milks it for all it’s worth. He hovers a little closer to Jonathan, lingers a little longer than he should. When they’re alone he’ll silently stroke up the insides of Jonathan’s thighs, breathe hot and humid against his neck. When they’re not alone he pushes Jonathan as far as he can without drawing suspicion: he bites and licks his lips idly so that Jonathan can’t take his eyes off of Dio’s soft, red mouth; when he stretches he arches his back and moans softly. It’s innocuous, but it always makes Jonathan go pink and conspicuously cross his legs. Jonathan might derive just as much pleasure from coming in Dio’s mouth as Dio does watching him thinking about it. And most nights Dio leaves Jonathan alone with those images. Once in a while, though, Dio will bless Jonathan with his presence and let him [censored] his throat. Whenever it seems like Jonathan’s getting used to the routine, Dio changes strategies. He stops visiting Jonathan for weeks at a time without a word and then, out of the blue, when he finds Jonathan alone in the study, he locks the door and crawls under the desk. And then in closets, around the corners of empty hallways. Dio pushes and pushes, and Jonathan stammers and stumbles but he never says no. This is what Dio wants. He wants Jonathan docile and willing to do whatever Dio asks. He wants Jonathan so in love with him (or in lust—whichever is easier) that pleasing Dio is the same as pleasing himself. The fact that Jonathan is very, very good-looking and that Dio is very, very attracted to him is just a bonus, really. But this does mean conceding to Jonathan every once in a while, and doing little things. Intimate, non-sexual things. Lacing their fingers together beneath a tabletop, or resting his head on Jonathan’s shoulder. These are concessions that must be made, Dio tells himself, to keep Jonathan from feeling used. (It should be said, though, that Jonathan is not nearly as suspicious as Dio assumes he is.) So when Dio is in Jonathan’s bedroom, sitting in Jonathan’s lap and fingering the waistline of his pants, he notices his de facto lover seems a bit more fidgety than usual. Jonathan’s hands are resting uneasily on Dio’s shoulders, thumbs stroking at the curves of his jawline. His gaze keeps jumping impatiently between Dio’s eyes, to his hands at Jonathan’s groin, to his mouth. Dio knows what Jonathan is thinking. “It’s fine. Do it.” Jonathan is momentarily dumb in disbelief. “Do…do what?” Dio rolls his eyes with enough force to make himself dizzy. “Don’t make me hold your hand for the whole thing, Jojo. I’ll let you kiss me. I know you think it’s improper if we don’t.” Dio neglects to mention the impropriety of the act between men, who were furthermore brothers in the eyes of the law. (Or the certain impropriety of the acts Dio hoped it would lead up to.) But he knows Jonathan is a romantic. So he’ll let him have this one thing. In spite of Dio’s attitude, Jonathan cracks a smile, giddy as a schoolboy. He’s so simple and pure that it’s almost enough to make Dio feel guilty. (If Dio’s ever been the sort of person to be inclined to feel guilty. Which he’s not, for those keeping score at home.) He’s got enough sense about him, at least, to know that his big goofy grin is not as seductive as he’d like to be, so he tries to bite it back. (But he doesn’t really succeed.) He tilts his chin towards Dio, moving in, but stops. After a few seconds of silent eye contact, Dio asks “Well? I’m waiting.” Jonathan’s eyebrows furrow a little. “Aren’t you going to…” “Would you rather I take the lead?” “No, no, that’s not—well, if you want to,” Jonathan concedes, moving back slightly. “It’s just…usually, wouldn’t you normally close your eyes? When you’re being kissed.” Dio snorts gracelessly. Jonathan gets defensive. “Don’t laugh! I’ve never done this before!” “I should think you haven’t,” Dio says, amused. But he’ll humor Jojo. He closes his eyes. Soon after, he feels the brush of a peck on his lips, the most fleeting ghost of affection. The brevity of it is enough to make him open his eyes just to glare at Jonathan. “What was that?” “I…I kissed you,” Jonathan says, red up to his ears now.

FARTSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

freaky callback boy...