Call me Tropical-fag man
Or figs
I was on this app before you youngins were even born trust me
She/her whatever’s cool wit me I’m just a dyke
Texas/Mexican bitch with depersonalization disorder and who is a little too gay for her own good
Peter: it’s easy! It’s just following the steps. -he headed to the kitchen, and started pulling out ingredients. First, mix the eggs, butter, and vanilla. He slid these ingredients to bindi and watched him to make sure he didn’t break anything.-
(They should bake cookies!!!) peter: want to take this to the kitchen? I’m kinda craving cookies. We can make your favorite. (Deadass I just expect bindi to fucking start punching the cookies)
(-runs away- ILL NEVER BUY YOUR SAUCE) (also what should we have our boys do) peter: thanks bindi. -peter at this point was bindi’s personal heating pad. He was comfortably warm and served as a great heat source for bindi, who was oddly always very cold-
Peter: -he chuckled a little bit and looked up at bindi- you really think it’s just extra teddy stuffing? I mean, you’ve got a great body and your really hot and I’m just kinda, bleh.
Peter: -he sighed and pressed himself closer to bindi- I worry about you. I don’t want you getting hurt vanya. But my day wasn’t much better. Remember Sharon? She came back after denouncing the coffee shop and started cussing me out. She called me a fat i
(Ah! I see.) peter: thank you vanya. It’s just the coffee shop that makes me smell that way. What did you do at work today? -peter was often very worried about bindi and his work. The most problematic thing peter had to deal with was soccer moms named Sha