today i found out that victor hugo has had more sex than possibly almost any other human that has lived on this planet.
he had so much sex his biographers straight up gave up trying to document all of his sexual partners. he was reported to fuck up to 3-9 times a day. He had a secret sex diary written in code. He had “official” and “unofficial” mistresses. One estimate was that he had ~200 sexual partners in two years.
Icon.
don’t forget that on the day of his funeral all the brothels in Paris were closed because every single prostitute in the whole goddamn city was busy mourning him
Hey quick question what the fuck
the man reported on his hookups in his diary using latin code words and 2 million people attended his funeral, if that isnt balling idk what is
victor hugo has been dead for 133 slutty, slutty years
Tag: text posts
my favorite thing is when you pick up an animal and you look them in the eyes and you can tell nothings going on behind them. you look at them and theres just elevator music. stupid animals really are like the fucking best, the lights are on but no one is home
that also happens when u pick me up and look into my eyes
You know we’re in the dark timeline when Stephenie Meyer has minded her own damned business for years and J.K. Rowling keeps tumbling down the metaphorical steps of murdering her own universe and personal character in the public eye for everyone to see.
Like, if in 2008 you had told me Stephenie Meyer would quietly retire and stay in her lane instead of continuing to write weird Mormon fantasy with nothing but white characters and J.K. Rowling would be on Twitter spouting some shit like “THE GOBLET OF FIRE WAS ACTUALLY ONCE A TRANS WOMAN, I’VE BEEN SITTING ON THIS SINCE 1986!” I’d say you were a fucking liar.
But here we are.
Reblogging for both the commentary and the blog name.
so i know it’s not the mcu, but if it WERE:
Annie and Dan are visiting his parents back East when the aliens hit New York, and then all the flights are canceled and the catsitter they hired doesn’t have any extra openings, so it’s Eddie to the rescue.
There’s some kind of irony in Anne finally trusting him to feed the cat a year after ending their engagement. He’s walking up the hill to their apartment, Annie on the phone telling him the system Dan uses for watering his plants, because of course Dan has a system, when Venom starts freaking out hard.
EDDIE, he says, so urgently that Eddie almost drops the phone. Eddie, something is wrong.
“What?” Eddie asks, looking reflexively around them–it can’t be Carnage again, unless–? But the street is quiet. The nearest person is an old woman pushing her bubbe cart.
“Eddie?” Anne asks, distant. “Everything okay?”
Something is very wrong, Venom repeats, and he sounds nearly distraught. He lurches sideways in Eddie’s chest, and Eddie does drop the phone this time.
“Whoa, whoa,” Eddie says, “What’s wrong?”
Instead of responding, Venom abruptly manifests, taking control of their body and scaring the pants off of the rest of the street.
“Jesus, V, what the hell,” Eddie says–or tries to say. He suddenly feels it too: something indefinable but essential is–wrong, and getting wronger.
“No,” Venom snarls out loud to the street, where the old woman–jesus christ. Where the old woman has just collapsed into dust, leaving nothing behind but her cart and her purse. A car slams into a lamppost, the driver’s seat suddenly empty. Someone is screaming, and they aren’t even screaming at them. “I said no.”
Oh, Eddie thinks, as a passenger tries to escape from the car’s backseat, and crumbles into nothing as soon as she reaches the pavement. Oh, that’s what’s happening to us.
“It is not.” Venom is surrounding him, is in him, deep as they always are, close enough that no one could tell the difference. Eddie can feel Venom repairing him, hanging onto his brain and his heart and feverishly binding atoms together that want to fall apart, and he can feel that it isn’t going to work, that not even us can stand against the unyielding pull of entropy.
I love you, V, Eddie thinks, fierce as he can.
“Don’t leave me,” Venom orders, frantic, hanging on as hard as they can, with every part of themselves. Eddie’s lost his view of the street, and he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s lost his eyes, or because Venom is shielding him from whatever there is to see, if the last thing he’ll see is that familiar blackness. “Don’t leave me alone, Eddie.”
Eddie tries his best to project gratitude with the last shreds of himself he can reach. He hopes Venom knows how much his life was changed, how much he wants––
*
friendly-neighborhood-patriarch:
friendly-neighborhood-patriarch:
friendly-neighborhood-patriarch:
friendly-neighborhood-patriarch:
I’m at an Italian restaurant now. They’re a local chain and my dad did good work for the founder. I told them my name and I got a private booth with a bottle of Sicilian wine “complements of the family”.
I was met by the owner and I said I was graduating law school soon. He patted me on the back and said “we might have some work for you”
What is this
You’re about to become a consigliere for The Godfather.
These words are going to be typed out by a court reporter some day.
Hardly. This isn’t the 50s
Duhnuhnuh MOB LAWYER!
I agree with Rynn! You are being groomed to serve The Family.
They gave me a basket of cheesy bread without promoting and I don’t even have to breathe and the servers ask if I’m happy.
Let me reiterate. My dad is a doctor. He treated the wife of the founder and she responded very well. He’s a doctor. Nothing more.
A mob doctor. He fixes up gunshot wounds
He’s a Neurologist!
Gunshot wounds to the nerves
Looks like this post is gonna be evidence for a future legal case
i really love our generation’s joke trend of like, very calm but incredibly inflated hyperbole. like nobody says “oh she’s pretty” anymore we say “i would willingly let her murder me” and everyone is just like “lol same”
i think “same” is also great and “me,” i love when somebody reblogs a picture of like, a lizard, and just says “me” and we all know exactly what they mean. the current online Humor Discourse is remarkable because we trade exclusively in metaphors and implications and nobody ever, ever says anything outright and yet EVERYBODY understands each other perfectly
the problem is you can say it online and everyone relates, but then you get into the habit of saying it out loud and no one knows what the hell you are talking about, like online you could say “same” about the lizard online but in real life if a pencil fell and you said “me” people just stare at you
Future historians are gonna hate us
Know your meme is a dictionary level resource for me at this point
the best analogy for bisexuals i’ve ever heard
werewolf: i’m a werewolf
person: ok so when you’re in human form you’re a human, and when you’re in wolf form you’re a wolf though.
werewolf: no. i’m a werewolf. human form = werewolf. wolf form = werewolf. always a werewolf. no matter the circumstance or appearance, I AM ALWAYS A WEREWOLFFact: bisexuals are also werewolves
a novel by r. j. lupin
the veil between the worlds is thin tonight but my restraint to summon a creature older than humanity and curl into its void arms to listen to stories from before the universe existed is thinner
for real, though, why do recipes consistently tell you to use less herbs and spices in than you should. fuck your “two cloves of garlic,” fuck your “half teaspoon of cinnamon,” and you can absolutely go to hell with your “dash of black pepper”
I’m pretty sure that the only time I’ve ever actually managed to overseason food was when working with balsamic vinegar, which is the most overpowering motherfucker of a sauce known to man
i appreciate the energy and anger in this post, which is righteous and just
ok so since the Russo brothers confirmed that animals and plants and the like all died in the snap,,,,,,, that means dogs died too,,,,, and lemme tell ya if ANYTHING happened to my dog earth wouldn’t even NEED the avengers I’d mcfucking d e s t r o y thanos myself because NO ONE FUCKING MESSES WITH MY DOG NOT EVEN A CRUSTY ASS RAISIN WITH A ROCK COLLECTION
Me, after watching my cat turn to dust: 🙂
Every single (living) Avenger, getting tf out of my way: How is she holding that many knives
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