What. It'sa nice hat.

I spent like two? Three? Entire weeks with this sitting in my askbox and I just. I got nothing. What could I possibly answer? I tried all the “nope” gifs in this god forsaken website, I tried to draw what my face looks like every time I read this, I tried to find fanart of jar jar with his wang out and the universe was kind enough to me so that I couldn’t find any. I got nothing. Nada. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. What am I gonna say? What in god’s name am I gonna say to that?!

You see, I wanna fuck general grievous. I do. I want him use all his four arms to simultaneously pull both my arms back and touch my tits as he fucks me with his mecha-schlong. I do. I wanna fuck darth Maul, pre-legs cut off or post metal legs+metal dick enhancement. I wanna lick those horns. Okay? I wanna fuck darth vader. Boy, oh, boy, I do. I wanna hear that hard breathing and wrap my legs over that dramatic cape while he force-chokes me and we do the do. Am I a weird robot-fucker? You bet your ass I am! Am I a tad too much on the horny side? Probably. Did I extrapolate my right to be horny on main? Fucking sue me. But this. THIS.

How do you want me to face my family and all the three (3) friends I have irl? How do you want me to walk into an elevator with a bunch of strangers and when an old lady says “the weather has been a little hot lately, isn’t it weird?” just to do small talk like every fucking old people I don’t know do, how do you expect me not to answer her with “y’know what’s weirder, someone at this very moment is thinking about Jar Jar Binks going balls-deep in them and I cannot talk about this to anyone and the knowledge of this? it’s eating me alive. ALIVE, ma’am, and I don’t mean this as some sick vore reference. Someone’s dreaming of those popped-up eyes, of that weird high-pitched voice screaming MEESA COMING while they’re filled up by Jar Jar Bink’s thick seed, and I’m just standing here while this very notion rots me to the core, taking all life away from me. It’s a nightmare. My entire life, a nightmare, because of an anon message from a horny jar jar fucker on tumblr. This is my floor now, ma’am, have a good day”

I leave the elevator. I probably have an appointment, but I can’t remember where, or what for. I sit down on the floor by the elevator doors. I sob for a full minute. I take the elevator back downstairs, I walk home, I collapse in bed and rub one out thinking of darth vader. I feel better.

Five minutes later, I think about this ask again, and my whole world collapses again. It’s only Tuesday. I sigh heavily and sit down to write this reply.-

+ bonus (someone that should be feared):

I spent like two? Three? Entire weeks with this sitting in my askbox and I just. I got nothing. What could I possibly answer? I tried all the “nope” gifs in this god forsaken website, I tried to draw what my face looks like every time I read this, I tried to find fanart of jar jar with his wang out and the universe was kind enough to me so that I couldn’t find any. I got nothing. Nada. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. What am I gonna say? What in god’s name am I gonna say to that?!

You see, I wanna fuck general grievous. I do. I want him use all his four arms to simultaneously pull both my arms back and touch my tits as he fucks me with his mecha-schlong. I do. I wanna fuck darth Maul, pre-legs cut off or post metal legs+metal dick enhancement. I wanna lick those horns. Okay? I wanna fuck darth vader. Boy, oh, boy, I do. I wanna hear that hard breathing and wrap my legs over that dramatic cape while he force-chokes me and we do the do. Am I a weird robot-fucker? You bet your ass I am! Am I a tad too much on the horny side? Probably. Did I extrapolate my right to be horny on main? Fucking sue me. But this. THIS.

How do you want me to face my family and all the three (3) friends I have irl? How do you want me to walk into an elevator with a bunch of strangers and when an old lady says “the weather has been a little hot lately, isn’t it weird?” just to do small talk like every fucking old people I don’t know do, how do you expect me not to answer her with “y’know what’s weirder, someone at this very moment is thinking about Jar Jar Binks going balls-deep in them and I cannot talk about this to anyone and the knowledge of this? it’s eating me alive. ALIVE, ma’am, and I don’t mean this as some sick vore reference. Someone’s dreaming of those popped-up eyes, of that weird high-pitched voice screaming MEESA COMING while they’re filled up by Jar Jar Bink’s thick seed, and I’m just standing here while this very notion rots me to the core, taking all life away from me. It’s a nightmare. My entire life, a nightmare, because of an anon message from a horny jar jar fucker on tumblr. This is my floor now, ma’am, have a good day”

I leave the elevator. I probably have an appointment, but I can’t remember where, or what for. I sit down on the floor by the elevator doors. I sob for a full minute. I take the elevator back downstairs, I walk home, I collapse in bed and rub one out thinking of darth vader. I feel better.

Five minutes later, I think about this ask again, and my whole world collapses again. It’s only Tuesday. I sigh heavily and sit down to write this reply.-

+ bonus (someone that should be feared):

I spent like two? Three? Entire weeks with this sitting in my askbox and I just. I got nothing. What could I possibly answer? I tried all the “nope” gifs in this god forsaken website, I tried to draw what my face looks like every time I read this, I tried to find fanart of jar jar with his wang out and the universe was kind enough to me so that I couldn’t find any. I got nothing. Nada. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. What am I gonna say? What in god’s name am I gonna say to that?!

You see, I wanna fuck general grievous. I do. I want him use all his four arms to simultaneously pull both my arms back and touch my tits as he fucks me with his mecha-schlong. I do. I wanna fuck darth Maul, pre-legs cut off or post metal legs+metal dick enhancement. I wanna lick those horns. Okay? I wanna fuck darth vader. Boy, oh, boy, I do. I wanna hear that hard breathing and wrap my legs over that dramatic cape while he force-chokes me and we do the do. Am I a weird robot-fucker? You bet your ass I am! Am I a tad too much on the horny side? Probably. Did I extrapolate my right to be horny on main? Fucking sue me. But this. THIS.

How do you want me to face my family and all the three (3) friends I have irl? How do you want me to walk into an elevator with a bunch of strangers and when an old lady says “the weather has been a little hot lately, isn’t it weird?” just to do small talk like every fucking old people I don’t know do, how do you expect me not to answer her with “y’know what’s weirder, someone at this very moment is thinking about Jar Jar Binks going balls-deep in them and I cannot talk about this to anyone and the knowledge of this? it’s eating me alive. ALIVE, ma’am, and I don’t mean this as some sick vore reference. Someone’s dreaming of those popped-up eyes, of that weird high-pitched voice screaming MEESA COMING while they’re filled up by Jar Jar Bink’s thick seed, and I’m just standing here while this very notion rots me to the core, taking all life away from me. It’s a nightmare. My entire life, a nightmare, because of an anon message from a horny jar jar fucker on tumblr. This is my floor now, ma’am, have a good day”

I leave the elevator. I probably have an appointment, but I can’t remember where, or what for. I sit down on the floor by the elevator doors. I sob for a full minute. I take the elevator back downstairs, I walk home, I collapse in bed and rub one out thinking of darth vader. I feel better.

Five minutes later, I think about this ask again, and my whole world collapses again. It’s only Tuesday. I sigh heavily and sit down to write this reply.-

+ bonus (someone that should be feared):