Hahahahahahahahaaaaaa this was definitely made by a straight guy
What this image really means: “I am terrible at sex.”
THERE IS NOTHING COMPLEX OR DIFFICULT ABOUT THE CLITORIS I’M SO MAD LIKE IT’S RIGHT THERE AND YOU JUST GOTTA TOUCH IT
………I don’t understand why the clitoris is such a mystery
it’s right there
I mean, if you’re a lazy fuck and you don’t care about your partners’ pleasure, then maybe it’s difficult to figure out
but for fucks’ sake, it’s right there, it engorges with blood and everything to make it easier to find
srsly tho it’s RIGHT THERE
maybe we should retaliate by claiming that we can’t find the penis
“it’s right there!”
“no those are my balls”
“in here somewhere?”
“that’s my anus please stop prodding at it”
(Source: makemecome, via sanityscraps)
So there’s all this quality, deep, symbolic Hannibal fanart everywhere, and that’s what I was gonna draw.
nailed it shut with mjolnir imo
From now on I’m going to close all my correspondence with “How dare you.”
(Source: sonychacha, via andimprouvaire)
because while Icarus sank and drowned,
you finally rose to the surface
(Source: between2devils, via decourfeynated)
you like piningjolras. i like piningjolras. friendship.
#piningjolras dear god piningjolras #he doesn’t think grantaire likes him #because they argue literally all the time #but god grantaire is so good at all of the things and he’s so kind and even though #he claims he doesn’t believe in anything #the minute someone tries a slur on jehan because of his braid and his floral jeans #it’s really a four way tie as to who starts kicking the offender’s ass first #jehan himself (who can handle himself because he’s jehan fucking prouvaire) #marius (whose loyalty to his friends gets him in over his head pretty often) #bahorel (who is always willing to punch a dick for social justice) #and grantaire #and enjolras kind of hangs back because seriously they have it handled #and combeferre gives him this knowing glance #because enjolras is watching grantaire #and grantaire doesn’t know #and enjolras doesn’t know that most of the time #grantaire is watching him #and just ugh grantaire is so wonderful and these two are oblivious little fucks #enjolras x grantaire #tagrambling
Modern!AU Joly: Nutritionist, Musician, Optimist
“You’re kidding. Are—are you serious?”
“I am so sorry. We can fix this.”
“You just drew a dick on my leg. With sharpie.”
“Where’s R—he can fix it. Why are you laughing?”
“Because I fucking love you, you goof.”
Jolllly, jolly, Joly. Even his name is a good humored pun, and he expects his friends to grin every single time they use it. Joly does his best to be a constant source of cheer, whether through the witty repertoire that so tickles Musichetta or by shattering silences with an upbeat rendition of the Scooby Doo theme on his uncle’s old accordion. There are precious few things that bring him so much joy as inspiring mirth in his friends and joining in their merrymaking. Laughter is the second best medicine, after a good and hearty round of antibiotics, and it’s much more pleasant to endure.
He’s always been of cheerful disposition, though he’s certainly been tested. Joly’d hardly been away from home three weeks before the car accident. Instead of spending a semester meeting new people and attending his cores, Joly had to relearn how to walk with the aid of his new left leg. Even jubilant Joly became discouraged, and if Bossuet and Combeferre had not been so supportive (and stubborn!), he might never have had the heart to return to his studies. Despite their encouragement, he found it difficult to work up the courage to socialize—he hated the way people stared at him, the teenager who relied on his cane for balance, who wore long pants in summer to disguise his false limb. This was not how he ever intended to inspire laughter.
It was Grantaire who put an end to that. After glimpsing the smooth white prosthetic, the very next time R walked into the Musain he came bearing a pack of multicolored dry-erase markers and a roguish grin. Oh, how Joly had laughed!
Nearly five years later, Joly’s finished his first degree and is well on his way to the next; he fully intends to be the best dietician in France. Good health begins with good nutrition, after all. He endures the teasing of his friends when he obsessively reads labels and pesters their waiters for impossible details, and he kisses Musichetta’s nose when she complains about his painstakingly prepared shopping lists and insistence on organic produce. He gets around just fine with the prosthetic, though he’s hesitant to completely abandon the security of his cane.
They still gather at the Musain, and Joly props his leg up on a chair so that Jehan and Gavroche can reach it from the floor, doodling colorful dragons and dancing tigers on his calf while Enjolras’ passionate discourse colors the air of the café. And Joly laughs.