yeah ok this fucking website ooooh horny for old men horny for dog ladies but you all shy away when someone is horny for the beautiful painted lips of a clown. die.
I made this in april, in quarantine. I had this idea i wanted to try, and i want to turn it into a full-length story so its kind of a demo/alpha version. I hope youll like it.
It’s about the end of the world and the song “Despacito”.
princess bubblegum is honestly one of most unique tv characters, apart from the fact that she’s a piece of gum who spends her free time committing unethical experiments on her subordinates, her storyline across all season is just like. her becoming less evil. not even like a full redemption arc, like she needed ten seasons to understand that being an authoritarian dictator is bad but like, she never actually stopped being a dictator yk. she just needed this much time to be like maybe I should commit less war crimes. maybe I should count to ten before defying god and creating life. and she has no tragic villain origin story, like they did kind of gave her that with her uncle and stuff betraying her but also, she’s always been kind of like this, like she’s always been prone to playing god with the concept of existence. if you think about it princess bubblegum could be a fucking batman villain
Naming the female razor brand Venus is so personally offensive to me….you think Venus the goddess of love and sex and beauty was shaving her PUSSY? Go kill yourself
“Many species of polychaetes undergo epitoky whereby sexually immature worms transform into pelagic morphs capable of sexual reproduction. After fertilization, they release their gametes through rapid disintegration.”
worms are out here having insane sex we can’t even comprehend
“what do they mean by disintegrate?” “oh yeah no he fucking disintegrated”
““Mother,” I slowly repeated in Korean. “I am not a boy. I am a girl. I am transgender.” My face reddened, and tears blurred my vision. I braced myself for her rejection and the end to a relationship that had only begun. Silence again filled the room. I searched my mother’s eyes for any signs of shock, disgust or sadness. But a serene expression lined her face as she sat with ease on the couch. I started to worry that my words had been lost in translation. Then my mother began to speak. “Mommy knew,” she said calmly through my friend, who looked just as dumbfounded as I was by her response. “I was waiting for you to tell me.” “What? How?” “Birth dream,” my mother replied. In Korea some pregnant women still believe that dreams offer a hint about the gender of their unborn child. “I had dreams for each of your siblings, but I had no dream for you. Your gender was always a mystery to me.” I wanted to reply but didn’t know where to begin. My mother instead continued to speak for both of us. “Hyun-gi,” she said, stroking my head. “You are beautiful and precious. I thought I gave birth to a son, but it is OK. I have a daughter instead.””
