#for that one anon that asked <3

[itsnotpickle]

Some of my xdnf stuff from twt :D Part 2 More doodles below \o/

Bonus HD content:

[becca-e-barnes]

Bucky pinning you down so you can’t squirm and he’s just sitting inside you while he tortures your clit feeling you clench around him. He makes you cum over and over until he finally cums.

Overstimulation + super soldier stamina = …

- 🍯

Dear God, I know I just don't have it in me to behave during cock-warming. When it comes down to it, I genuinely have no patience at all 😵‍💫

"You..." Bucky begins, pressing you down onto the bed before gripping your ankles and forcing you to flip over onto your front. "Have a problem with control."

With your face turned away from him, you can't help but smile to yourself. No one has ever said it out loud but you know he's right.

Being in control is where you're most comfortable. No hands are safer than your own. Except maybe his. You know he won't fuck this up.

"And you..." He continues, gathering your wrists behind your back, holding them tightly with one hand. "Need to learn how it feels to have control taken from you. Do you understand?"

As soon as you begin to nod your head, you feel him start to tape around your wrists, holding them together behind your back. Once he's content they're secure, he sits on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror before he pulls you onto his lap.

"Legs spread over the top of mine." He orders and you do as you're told, not because you have to but because you want to.

You notice the way your cunt is already glistening in the mirror and you're almost embarrassed because he hasn't even touched you yet.

"Fuck, you're made for this." He groans, lining his cock up to your slick entrance and you wonder if he's holding his breath too while he slides into you, as deep as your bodies will allow.

You're obsessed with the sight in front of you; your own naked body, with your legs spread so far apart you can see how your cunt is stuffed full of him.

Being shorter though, your feet can't touch the ground like this. There's no way you'll get enough leverage to fuck yourself on him but as soon as you start to tell him that, he silences you with two thick fingers between your lips.

"I'm not letting you fuck me." His free hand roams over your body, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples and then settling between your spread thighs.

"I'm going to play with you. I'm going to see how much you can take. I'm going to work out exactly how you like your clit stroked and I'm going to do that until your legs are shaking and your body won't let you cum any more. Maybe then I'll fuck you but sweetheart, that will be hours from now." His breath is hot against the side of your face, his fingers slipping from your mouth to your waist while he starts to flick gently against your clit.

"I'm going to start slowly. I'm going to do everything I can to drag this out as long as possible. I can feel every clench and flutter of this pretty little cunt and I'm going to enjoy it until you're dripping over my balls." At this rate, it won't be long until you're dripping onto the carpet, never mind over him. You dreamed he'd want to take control like this but you never imagined the way your body would respond.

"And then, when you've cum more times than you can handle, I'm going to tell you that I love you while I fuck you like I don't."

Update: Part 2

[captainjamster]

breeding/pregnancy kink, incest, thoughts of kidnapping, daddy kink, controlling behaviour // reader is written with female anatomy and wears makeup but isn't gendered

Price knows that his relationship with you is complicated, to say the least.

There's no room for acceptance of your relationship - no one understands the festering need clawing underneath his skin, the way his hands itch for you. Any normal person would be horrified by the way he feels about you, the things he does to you - but years of service have shown John just how far from normal he is.

Sometimes he longs to show you off - present you to the world, take you out on dinners and dates, bring you to functions without questions about why you hold him so close, or why his arm always wraps dangerously low around your waist. It gets considerably worse when he entertains that barely dorment desire to fight his thick cock between your thighs and breed you again and again. The miracle of contraceptives have provided him with an outlet; he can fuck you raw and stick to secretly hope it somehow takes, despite the odds. But it only tampers the wishful thinking that has him pinching your nipples and wishing they'd leak, running his hands over the fat of your stomach, longing to feel that little bump of seed grow and grow.

He knows there's one solution to all this - to escaping the judgement of others keeping him from consuming you whole. Not a day passes where he doesn't consider taking you off-grid entirely - he knows Nik has a house somewhere in the mountains he could inhabit. Just you and him, a small cabin and some livestock.

But it's not realistic (-yet-). He couldn't leave you all alone, no help or company around, during the long periods of his deployment. So he sticks for ravishing you in private, desperately trying to convey the need he feels with each thrust, like he could imprint the depths of his depraved love if his fingers grip your hips just a bit tighter. He never leaves you unsatisfied, and it's not over until you're blurry-eyed with exhaustion, dripping his cum onto the sheets already damp with your slick, mumbling nothing but love and appreciation for your Daddy as he scoops you up against his chest.

There are other small pleasures, too. Hearing you splutter on video calls when your friends make teasing quips about the marks you can't even begin to cover with clothes or makeup, avoiding questions and alluding to some vague hookup. Watching you get ready to go out for a night, just to force you down to your knees and wrap those pretty coloured lips around his cock. You complain every time he tuts at the short cut of your outfits (even when they're appropriate, but he'll never admit that), chastising you for lacking modesty, but your pussy is always wet when he pushes you back to the bedroom for a lesson.

Eventually, John will work something out. A man like him always does. But for now, he relishes the shadows that he keeps you in - his hidden prize, kept safely up on the shelf. But a prize is made to be appreciated, no? Good thing John can think of a few boys with an eye for a pretty toy.

[pokeberry5]

If you are still taking requests, may I please inquire if I could have a drawing of Jason and Tim working together as a team, please?

this probably isnt exactly what you had in mind, but i think that red robin and batboy from that one death in the family movie ending are so precious

the cowl in question:

bonus:

[yaoiconnoisseur]

Gale “Irritable Bowel Syndrome” Dekarios

[readychilledwine]

What Once Was Lost

Rhysand Week Day Three - Loved Ones

Summary - Your baby shower should have been the happiest day of your and Cassian's life, but you and Rhysand just can't shake the feeling that something, or someone(s), is missing

Warnings - Loss of parents and siblings, discussion of mourning and grief, brother/sister bonding moment, pregnancy, angst, fluff, implied favoritism from a parental figure

A/N - Happy @officialrhysandweek day 3. Rhysand's love language towards his family screams gifts. I had something like this planned for a girl dad Cassian fic, but doing it with Rhysand just felt so right as things flowed together. I was pretty excited for this to be a prompt for this week because it gave me an excuse to finally write, revamp, and post this.

✨️Rhysand Week Masterlist✨️Rhys Masterlist✨️Master Masterlist✨️

You were being irrational.

At least you repeated that to yourself over and over as you hid on the balcony. This should have been one of the happiest days of your life. A baby shower to celebrate the life you and Cassian had made after many centuries of trying and trying with no results. Yet, you found yourself a mess of tears and makeup, face buried in your hands and you cried. 

Every celebration came with a feeling of emptiness. It always had and for some reason, you felt it always would. It had been years since the night you woke up to your father's pained screams, since he then clinged to you, holding his last remaining baby girl for dear life, then you lost him too.

You wanted to move on, yet you still felt stagnated, unable to move forward. Something was missing today. Someone. Multiple someones, actually. Your mother, your big sister, your father despite his cruelty. It seemed like a joke to be celebrating without them.

The door opened and shut softly, followed by the scent of salty citrus, “Sister! There you are," Rhysand's face fell as he saw you crying. "Is it that bad,” he asked gently. “Did I mess up planning this that badly? Is it the cake? The white? I promise its-”

“It's not any of that, no,” you interjected. “I- its.”

“Oh.” He knew. Rhysand knew. He had felt it on his own wedding day, after the birth of his own son, after every milestone he accomplished. “You know they would want you happy-”

Those words made you sob harder, hugging yourself tightly. You felt this level of mourning wasn't healthy after so many years, so many heartaches, but it was as if your life had adapted and grown around the murders of your mother and big sister instead of moving on from it.

“Y/n, the depth of your mourning does not determine how much you loved them. What determines that is how we honor them.” Rhysand moved to lean next to you on the wall, “And have we done that. We've changed things mother felt would remain the same until the end of time, we rebuilt the Rainbow in honor of Stel, we ensured their stories were heard, written into the Night Court's history. We even honored our father through alliances, trade, and the crowns we wear.” 

He wiped his own eyes before continuing, “We've honored them by becoming the male and female they expected us to be. By becoming the husband and wife to our partners that they expected us to be. By loving each other and pushing each other to be better the way they expected us to. We've honored them by being happy, by cherishing each other. You, my starlight, have been my treasure since they left us.”

You only smiled slightly, “Until you had Nyx.” Your nephew, your light. He was the source of happiness for the Inner Circle you all had never seen coming. He had spun everyone's world, but mostly Rhysand's. Nyx filled a void with his sweet squishy face and bright blue eyes filled with wonder and joy.

“No,” your brother said the word with such gentleness but firmly. “You are still my treasure. My son is my world. And when i see you with him, I feel complete.” He meant that. You could tell by the little look of pride he had.

The transition from Rhysand as a full-time workaholic to almost stay at home dad had been a rough one, but one he would not undo. Feyre practically ran the Night Court now, while Rhysand enjoyed a life of fatherhood and solitude unless necessary. No one outside of the Inner Circle knew that fact, of course, but slowly, they would.

“Nyx will reshape the world some day,” his hand moved to rest on your stomach, his body moving to face you as it did, “And this little life you a carrying, this little being who is already so celebrated, so loved, who has already brought so much joy, this is his sibling. The closest thing he will ever have with Feyre's choice to never have a child again.”

Rhysand's hand felt your bump, trying to find where the soul growing inside of you was resting. “It's time to stop the circle of grief, dear sister,” he made you look at him. “To live. To love freely. To hold tight to the things we both cherish most. You are carrying the greatest blessing you could ever give this family.”

His eyes were still on that swell of life, a soft smile as he thought out his future niece or nephew, “Two more months,” you reminded him. “You can hold them in two more months.”

“It's forever,” he pouted before placing both hands on your tummy. “Have you two picked names?”

You could only nod as you two held eye contact. You searched those comforting eyes for any sign or hint of the gender you'd be giving birth to. He was the only one who knew the gender of the baby, information he carried so close to his heart he had not even told Feyre. You and Cassian had wanted to be surprised at birth, but your mate's anticipation made it impossible to wait 61 more days.

Rhysand had planned this whole party around that fact. The garden was filled with white flowers. The house had white linens and decorations. He’d gone as far as having enchanted white flowers spread throughout Velaris. 

After the overly extravagant dinner being served, you and Cassian would be moved under the flower arch he'd constructed with Elain. Then, when you both indicated you were ready, the flowers would change to pink or blue. Cassian, Feyre, Eris, and Azriel were all supporting pink, praying for a sweet baby girl. You were in black, matching your brother, in a silent message that you both wanted healthy. Mor, Amren, Elain, Nesta, and Lucien all Sported accents of blue, using old fisher wife stories to say you were carrying a baby boy. 

Rhysand pulled your mind back to the present, to him, with a soft kiss on your forehead. “You look so much like Mother. When I miss her, I look at you and find peace and comfort. I am reminded of the way she looked at me because your eyes look at me the same.” 

He hugged you the best he could, letting there be silence as your tears finally stopped. Rhysand had dedicated his life to Velaris, to the found family you two shared, to you. Your heart and mind knew that dedication would pass to this baby, to raising them to be strong willed, confident, humbled. “People are waiting for us,” he whispered into your hair. “Your husband is waiting for you two. Let's go eat.”

It was a gentle pull of your hand, bringing you to the center spot of the table next to Cassian. Lamb, chicken, prime rib. Rhys had spared no expense to make sure this day was special for you, and the meal filled with all your favorite proteins and sides was proof of that. Food was enjoyed with laughter, final wagers placed between the Inner Circle and Vanserras. 

The time had finally come, faelights guiding you and Cassian to where Rhysand wanted you to stand. Smaller lights had been woven into the arch made from roses, peonies, and wisteria. 

Cassian was a ball of energy, smile growing as he held both of your hands, “Ready, starlight?” 

“Ready,” you confirmed, and before your eyes, shades of pink filled the garden. Pink daisies, pink roses, pink asters and tulips. It bathed the room in promises of gentleness, compassion, beauty, and kindness, the qualities your mother and father raised you to have as Princess of the Night Court. Qualities Rhysand had continued to teach you long after their deaths. 

Cassian lifted you immediately, crying as he held you against him, mumbling into your neck how you had honored him. How you were giving him the most precious thing he'd ever have. Whispering his promises to protect her, to love her, to be a good father to his angel.

The celebration in garden was slowly drowned out by the loud party that had erupted through the streets of Velaris. Fireworks going off, music playing at the highest volume, bells chiming from the temple. The only sign of something different was the wisteria, fading to its soft purple shade, your older sister's favorite flower, your mother's favorite color. Rhys made a confused face at the sight of it before smiling. 

“That's not supposed to be happen,” Feyre seemed almost panicked, moving to fix them.

Rhysand grabbed her hand, stopping her in her tracks, “That's my mother and sister,” he said quietly. “They're letting us know they're here.”

“How would your dad indicate he's here,” Feyre joked. 

Rhysand only pointed to where a crow sat watching from the tree. Its dark eyes were on you and you alone as the Inner Circle rushed to take turns holding you and Cassian as you both cried out of joy. “Same way he watched her when she was little. Always playing favorites.”

Rhys moved to you then, playfully pushing Cassian away to take his turn. “You have my blessing,” the sentence needed no further details, no explanation. He was letting you use your mother's name. Your lip began to tremble, Cassian nodded as he and Rhysand looked at each other. “I can't wait to meet sweet little Astra."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[basketobread]

my dumb fuck ass just spent 30 minutes trying to find Save Us White Girl and caved and "help white girl bg3" immediately returned it via google,,,,, had help white girl, white girl help stuck in my head,,,,,

THIS MADE ME LAUGH SO MUCH TBH I CANNOT BELIEVE IT CAN IMMEDIATELY BE FOUND LIKE THAT???? everyday this comic finds its way back to me and i'm unsure if i'll ever be able to outdo it... it might be my magnum opus, i fear... (this is a good thing)

[temeyes]

hoi. can i please kiss soaps forehead☺ ty

hOI!! of course you can!

[splat-details]

The Reef

[berlingotesque]

YOOOO, WANTED TO LET YOU KNOW THAT I LOVE YOUR SAMMY AND NORMAN DESIGNS, THEY'RE SO COOL!!! THEY'RE SO SILLY AND I FREAK OUT WHEN I SEE YOUR NORMMY ART HYKDFKHDKH

ZHGSVZGH THANK YOU SO MUCH !! THEY DO ARE SILLY TOGETHER

[elitisim]

Sheabuttyr - Dameon Dreads

All credits goes to @sheabuttyr! Original here!

Hair for For Teen ➤ Elder Males

25.8k poly

1024x texture

Texture Credit: Sheabuttyr

Custom Thumbnail

Contains all LODS and is disabled for random

Larger Pics and color channel breakdown under the cut

tagging: @pis3update, @naturalhair-sims3, @xto3conversionsfinds

[DOWNLOAD]

[becca-e-barnes]

Ma’am, you are deviously incredible 🔥 We’re begging for an exploration of him saying “I love you” while fucking her like he doesn’t 🥹

My brain keeps picking up the storyline a few splendidly torturous hours in when her body’s completely spent & quivering & she’s a blubbering mess & that’s when he picks her up & takes his sweet time positioning her so she can limply yet eagerly watch their reflection has he finally gives her… exactly what her twitching body’s been craving. 🥵

I'm so glad you all enjoyed the thought of this as much as I did because I've been dying to expand on it 😵‍💫 (Part 1 here)

I like to imagine by that stage, he's absolutely desperate too though. He's got to feel your sweet little pussy clench and flutter around him, contracting so tight every time you cum that he swears it's going to be the end of him.

He's been too hard for too long, buried inside your body and he swears he's never felt you this wet or this hot before. It's been fucking luxurious, forcing you to cum against his fingers, feeling how your body's natural reaction is to coax him to drain his balls into you but that alone isn’t enough. He needs more than that.

He wouldn't admit it to you but he can't take any more. His balls feel like they're fizzing; overfull and beyond ready to flood your waiting, overstimulated body.

He arranges you gently, laying you on your front because he doesn't trust your trembling arms to support you. "That's it, good girl." He coos, hearing you whimper and sob pathetically because he needs to slip out of you to slide a pillow under your hips.

"You've made such a mess." He groans, taking a second to appreciate the delicious, inviting, slick little cunt he's about to indulge in. "You're dripping, sweetheart. God, I just know there's no way I'm going to be able to pull out."

His huge hands are gripping your hips and with one sharp, brutal thrust, he's back inside you and you both sob pathetically at the feeling of your bodies being joined again. This is exactly what you've needed but you don't have the words to tell him that. All you can do is whine and will your body not to cum again so soon.

"I meant. What I said earlier." He punctuates his sentence with soft groans, drawing back until he almost slips out of you before pounding back in.

He leans forward, tilting your chin up, making sure you can see the way he's fucking you in the mirror at the end of the bed.

"I love you. And I don't want you to forget that." He sounds sincere, one hand trailing up from the small of your back to right between your shoulder blades and then back down again. It feels intimate and tender but all that is forgotten by the very next thrust.

"I love you. But for now, you're just a mindless. Little. Drooling. Breedable. Cunt for me." He slows his thrusts down, determined not to cum so soon but it's going to be difficult to last until he gets the first couple of loads out of the way.

"Baby..." You whimper, feeling the tip of his cock nudge against your sweet spot, making you shake from overstimulation.

"I know sweetheart, I know. It's too much. But you're being so good for me. You're so perfect. How have no idea how you feel. So wet and warm and I can feel you fluttering around my cock. It's like you're trying to squeeze every last drop of cum out of me. Is that what you want? Because angel, I'll keep this delicious cunt stuffed full of load after load until I have nothing left to give you."

His thrusts are punishingly fast, thumping against your raised ass, half chasing his orgasm, half holding it back.

"And when I do, I'll remind you just how much I love you. And the baby I'm going to give you tonight."

With that thought, he can't stop himself from cumming, his dick twitching inside you as he shoots thick ropes of his seed right against your cervix. You're so cock-drunk you can only rut yourself millimetres back and forth but that's all you need to send yourself spiralling into another orgasm that leaves you trembling and sobbing.

"Fuck, you want that as much as I do, don't you?" He kisses the back of your neck, breathing you in while letting the euphoric rush subside. He notices he hasn't softened in the slightest despite such an intense orgasm but he knows he needs to be gentle with you for a moment before he can get any rougher.

[hoe4hotchner]

It's okay if u don't write this since it might be on the verge of angst. But could you write something with preferably fem reader being overwhelmed for some reason so they don't take care of themselves especially their hair and hotch sees them struggeling and offers to help brush it and he's really sweet and some kisses please 🙏

This is much more angsty than I thought I would write it. Reader has long enough hair to get knots and tangles, but otherwise gn and not described.

Knotted mess | [A.H]

WC: 0,6k

Requests are open

           You sat on the bed, staring blankly ahead, the hairbrush heavy in your hand. The overwhelming weight of everything had finally caught up to you. Work, responsibilities, the pressure of keeping it together - it had all drained you. Even the simplest task, like brushing your hair, felt like an impossible challenge.

           Your hair, tangled from days of neglect, hung in limp knots over your shoulders. You'd kept it up for most of the week, hoping your colleagues wouldn't notice how unkempt it had gotten. You felt too exhausted to even try. A part of you wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. You were just… numb.

           The sound of footsteps approached, and you didn’t need to look up to know it was Aaron. His presence was usually grounding, a quiet power that always made you feel safe, but tonight, you couldn’t even bring yourself to pretend you were okay.

           “Sweetheart?” he asked gently, his voice filled with concern. He knelt down in front of you, his warm brown eyes searching your face. “What’s going on?”

           You shook your head, struggling to find words. “I just… I don’t know. I can’t do it. I’m so tired.”

           He glanced at the brush in your hand, then back at you. He knew this wasn't about your hair. Without saying a word, he reached out, gently taking it from your grasp. “Let me help,” he said softly, sitting beside you.

           You didn’t protest. You couldn’t. You just nodded as he moved behind you on the bed. Gently, he gathered your hair in his hands, carefully working through the tangles with the brush.

           His movements were slow and patient, each stroke of the brush a tender gesture of care. He didn’t rush, didn’t say anything, just let the soft, rhythmic sound of the bristles fill the quiet space between you.

           As he brushed, you felt some of the tension in your shoulders begin to melt. His presence, his gentle touch, was like a cure to your racing mind. You closed your eyes, focusing on the soothing feeling of him working through the knots, each one falling away like a burden you’d been carrying alone.          

           “You’ve been trying to do everything yourself,” Aaron murmured after a while, his voice soft and full of understanding. “But you don’t have to.”

           His words hit something deep inside you, and your breath hitched slightly. You hadn’t realized just how much you’d been holding in, trying to keep it together, trying not to ask for help.

           “I just… I didn’t want to bother you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

           He set the brush down gently and shifted closer, wrapping his arms around you from behind, his chest warm and solid against your back. “You could never bother me,” he said softly, his lips brushing against the side of your head. “I’m here because I love you. Sometimes you have to let me take care of you too.”

           You leaned into him, the dam inside you finally breaking as tears began to spill down your cheeks. Hotch held you tighter, pressing soft kisses to your temple, your hair, your shoulder - each one a quiet reassurance that you weren’t alone.

           After a moment, you turned in his arms, burying your face against his chest as he cradled you. He kissed the top of your head again, his hand stroking your back slowly, comfortingly.

           “You’re always so strong,” he murmured, his voice full of admiration. “But you don’t have to be, not with me.”

           His words, his touch, everything about this moment made you feel like you could finally let go of the weight you’d been carrying. You tilted your head up slightly, meeting his gaze, and without hesitation, he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

[kedreeva]

#we spoke of this a LOT at work after that one tech was murdered and hidden in a wall

hi!👋 hello! kedreeva! i’m going to need to ask you to explain this!!!!

So back in 2009, a lab student named Annie Le was murdered at Yale university. Cameras saw her going on into a building, but not out again and it was like, the eve of her wedding (or close to? I don't remember) so clearly she had places to be and people waiting for her so they immediately started looking and the next day (or so? Anyway on the day of her wedding) they found her body in a recess in a wall, down in the areas where the research animals were kept. It turns out, a tech had killed her, but since there were cameras like EVERYWHERE, he just, I guess, left her there. Well, hid the body where it was. I don't remember how they caught him, but they did. It was a horrifying story. It still is.

And it was a huge news story among the folks at my workplace because, at the time, I was working at a different university, as an animal husbandry technician. As you can imagine this was a kind of intense time to be in that situation. They started offering, like, I'm not gonna say counseling but it was "if you need to talk we would prefer you talk to us about something wrong rather than kill anyone about it" and as techs (even if we were not even the same kind of tech, the killer was a lab tech and we were husbandry techs but I think a lot of people assumed it had been a husbandry tech since she was in an animal area), we were kind of getting the side eye from lab people for weeks afterwards. Like they thought we were gonna go "wow that's a fantastic idea, you're next!" or something, idk. And I mean like, people would freeze when you were alone in a hallway, or turn and walk the other way, or duck into the nearest room and watch you walk past, and they were all being super nice/civil to us when they did have to interact. It was very atypical behavior for lab people. Like not all of them, some of them had always been nice and weren't worried, but some of the people who had been unbelievable dicks previously were walking on eggshells. And the people who had friends in other universities reported this was happening at their jobs, too.

And instead of talking to The Man (because all the higher ups were garbage at the time), we just. talked among ourselves. It was a lot of "I may say I feel like strangling lab people sometimes when they do things that drive me up a wall but I don't MEAN it you know that right" and it also led to group discussions of what would be a theoretical *better* solution to hiding a body than what happened, with clear disdain for doing things like hiding bodies in walls, which is a terrible idea and one we would never do (looking at the people who think we might have decided this was a great idea actually).

Which consequently led to a lot of supervisors and/or managers that happened to overhear us bringing us donuts or arranging pizza for lunch in like, some kind of bid to help us feel appreciated, I guess, so that we wouldn't murder anyone, even though none of us were going to do that anyway. But also none of us were in a position to turn down free donuts or pizza or whatever.

And then after a few weeks, maybe a month or so, people just kind of forgot and moved on and things went back to normal like fifty people hadn't spent every lunch hour for weeks talking quietly among themselves about how human bodies would definitely fit into a carcass disposal barrel or that you'd have to crush hip bones and/or skulls before incineration. Hypothetically.

Like I said, it was a VERY weird time to be at my job, and every time I remember it happening feels like a fever dream. I can't even imagine what it was like at Yale.

[stealingpotatoes]

BD-1 is the most adorable droid ever known to mankind or alien kind 💕

ive been having a bit of a bad week (bc of reasons that largely include "my phone almost blew up and i had to get a new one and i miss my old phone") but this ask inspired me to decorate my new phone and i feel less oof abt it now <3

[geminitay-daily]

Could we get a farming or hiking gem for the people

She’s farming! That’s a scythe i promise :]

[4]