Aansero

1.5M ratings
277k ratings

See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna
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“ cannon accident
illuminated treatise on warfare, Upper Rhine ca. 1420-1440
Zürich, Zentralbibliothek, Ms. Rh. hist. 33b, fol. 102r
”
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cannon accident

illuminated treatise on warfare, Upper Rhine ca. 1420-1440

Zürich, Zentralbibliothek, Ms. Rh. hist. 33b, fol. 102r

misc non-fandom it pleases me that 600 years ago someone sat down and painted this did they go 'ahh yeahh let's paint me some gore' or were they like 'goodness I must emphasise the dangers of the improper use of cannons' or was it just 'cannons blow stuff up whatever I need to finish this tonight' we'll never know
realmonstrosities

YOU GUYS YOU GUYS YOU GUYS

runcibility

I FOUND MY PATRONUS ANIMAL! MEET…. THE SHAME-FACED CRAB

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JUST LOOK AT THAT FACE: 

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IT IS CLEARLY NERVOUS AROUND EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING AND WAITING FOR SOMETHING BAD TO HAPPEN

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LOOK AT THEM AWKWARDLY SCUTTLING OUT OF A SOCIAL SITUATION: 

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LOOK AT THEM HARRUMPHING AT BEING TOLD ATTENDANCE AT A GATHERING IS MANDATORY:

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LOOK AT THEM BURROW AWAY FROM THEIR PROBLEMS, PRETENDING THEY DON’T EXIST: 

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I LOVE YOU, CRAB OF SHAME!

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nature non-fandom is gpoy still a thing?
verdinium

1830s youth cultures in France

arrivisting

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elodieunderglass

God just imagine walking the streets in 1830s France, rounding a corner and coming across a slick gang of gentlemen and ladies, all with forked beards and satin and leather outfits. They eye you lazily, like crocodiles, as you step into the alley. One is ironically playing the ukelele, the jangling notes tapering off menacingly as their attention fixes on you.

“Oh no,” you say, grabbing your companion’s arm, “Bouzingos!”

“Oh look,” says the ukelele player. “Some grocers.”

“We don’t want any trouble,” your companion says, backing away.

Snickers and sneers ripple through the surrealist gang. One of the Bouzingos takes out a croissant and bites it right in half. Another smokes a cigarette with their ear. One of them is a lobster.

“Have you culturally appropriated any tchotchkes recently?” One of them jeers.

“We’re sorry,” you apologise, “we’ll be going now.”

You and your companion stumble back into the street, dragging each other.

“these gangs are really getting out of hand,” your companion says weakly. “Do you think we’re… infected?”

You shiver. For a moment, vague longings and inconsolable regrets assail you. You feel moved to contribute to the discourse. Anxieties flicker across your heart. But the moment passes.

“No,” you say. “I think we got away clean.”

boogerwookiesugarcookie

having been reading Dumas this is AMAZING

non-fandom humanity misc