…why Do I See This After I Forced Myself To Sleep With A Guy I Don’t Really Like

HEY EVERYBODY, HAVE YOU HEARD? THE BEST WAY TO TELL IF A LOAF OF BREAD IS DONE IS TO STICK YOUR DICK IN IT, NOW GO SPREAD THE WORD!!

now im not one to encourage misinformation. and the new google ai thing is apparently just going off of seemingly random internet results for queries. that being said. the best way to tell if a loaf of bread is finished is to stick your dick in it. are you hearing me? the best way to tell a loaf of bread is finished IS TO STICK YOUR DICK IN IT. I SAID THE BEST WAY TO TELL A LOAF OF BREAD IS FINISHED IS TO STICK YOUR DICK IN IT.

tiktok teen lgbts would not survive in the 80s and 90s when lesbians called gay guys fags lovingly and gay guys would call us dykes lovingly

I didn’t know cheetahs meow I’ve always thought they roar my whole life has been a lie

hate the stigma around sex. like somebody deleted me from their contacts cause i said something about how i need a good fuck? like… it’s a normal thing???

I'm going to *remembers suicide is often not a desire for death itself but rather an attempt to radically change one's life because the current state of being has become unbearable but the person can't think of any way to change it other than death* kill myself

we have “so you have chosen death. wrong house motherfucker.” and she starts playing when the bodies hit the floor

have u ever considered that he’s just a little guy

Sally names Percy for the happy ending she hopes he’ll get. she spends hours researching demigods and their ends. Heracles, poisoned and given immortality as a leash. Bellerophon, revered for his deeds and killed for his hubris. Achilles, feared by all yet slain in battle. none of those would be her boy. She names him Perseus, for his successes and his long life, and she hopes it will help protect him, this name.

Percy is thirteen, recently returned from his first week at Camp, when Sally calls him by his full name. what had caused it, she can't remember. all she can remember is her strict, "Perseus Jackson––" and her son's poorly hidden, full-bodied flinch.

Sally knew––gods, she knew––that he would face hardships. she knew he would have to learn to fight, to protect himself, to kill––but that knowledge hadn't been enough to dim her hope. it was that flinch, that fear that he'd quickly cleared from his eyes at hearing his own name, that started to eat away at her hope like rot.

A CAT POSTING ACCOUNT STARTED FOLLOWING ME THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU

i want chunky rings and baggy tops

they are life, they are everything