i don't have a dragon @admiraldora - Tumblr Blog

assorted ornamental birds! (2021)

Oh Wikipedia. Never change

I love how these are from an Unreality subreddit but to my eye they just read like regular Tumblr shitposts. Did we cross-pollinate or something

dramatic-dolphin

some of my favorites

totally-cis-offical

Also the nonbinary child is 42 years old which is so funny

totally-cis-offical

Or maybe the parent is 42

pankendev

my human vaporizing machine continues to mistify people

vee-dmsr

bumbleboa

some more water tribe siblings sketches

The siblings ever

light-camera-bitch-smile

i love palamades sextus because it's like. he's "the greatest necromancer of his generation". he's jealous of an eighteen year old. he's in a codependant relationship with his cousin. he's writing erotic wlw fanfic on the wallpaper of his hallucinated River bubble. he rewrote known necrophysics. he was homewrecked. he finds those little outfits that nurses wear and strong work ethic and high test scores sexy. he's been in love with a woman seven years older than him since he was eight. he gave an ancient saint turbo cancer. he blew himself up. he's dead. he's alive. he's banned from selling erotic wlw fanfic he conceived in his necrophysically impossible River bubble. he's taking care of the dead soul of the earth in the body of a girl who lobotomized herself. he never forgets anything. and he isn't even technically the main character. NO ONE is doing it quite like him.

#the locked tomb

hedgehog-moss

The Least Intimidating bakery in the village has closed for good so now I’ve got to go to the Intimidating Bakery, it’s awful. If you don’t have a PhD in being French I don’t recommend going to that bakery, here’s the humiliating account of the 3 times I’ve visited it so far:

the first time I went in there I pointed at one of those extra-skinny baguettes and said “a flute, please” feeling pretty sure of myself, and the baker said “… that’s a ficelle” (you idiot) (was implied) “a flute is twice as large as a baguette.”

That’s insane, first of all, a flute is a skinny instrument. Call your fat baguette a bassoon, lady—I made some timid remark about how it would make more sense for a flute to be a skinny bread and the baker said, “In Paris it is. I thought you were from the South?”

oh, that hurt

I guess I’m from the part of the South that’s so close to Italy the bread’s waist size matters less than whether it’s got olives in it, but I left the bakery having an existential crisis over whether living in Paris had made me forget my roots

the Least Intimidating Bakery just had normal baguettes vs. seedy baguettes vs. horny baguettes (easy mode, some have seeds, some have horns), while the new bakery has breads that are only different on a molecular level—there’s a good old loaf and then another, identical loaf called a bastard? google told me a bastard is “halfway between a baguette and a bread” but denouncing them like “those are not regulation-sized bastards” would get me banned from the bakery for life

on my 2nd visit (while I stood in line discreetly googling baguette terminology) there was an English tourist who asked for a baguette while pointing at what was either a rustique or a sesame and I felt a bit worried for them, but the baker just clarified “this one?” to waive any responsibility if they found out later it wasn’t a classic baguette, then handed them the bread without educating them in a judgmental tone and I felt envious

I know it’s because she thinks the English are beyond saving but still it made me want to come back with a fake moustache and an English accent so I wouldn’t be expected to play bakery on expert mode just because I’m French. I asked for a pastry this time and the baker asked “no bread with that?” which felt cruel, like she wanted me to sprinkle myself with ashes and admit out loud that my level of bread proficiency isn’t as advanced as I once believed it was

The third time I went, I had lost all self-confidence and I hesitantly pointed at a bread and said “I’d like this, uh—what is it called?” and the baker looked at me in disbelief and said “That’s a baguette.”

God.

for the record, if that stupid bread had been flanked by a skinny bread (ficelle) and a fat one (flute) then yeah of course I would have known to call it a baguette, but in the absence of reference points I now felt lost and scared of being called a Parisian again

it’s hard to express the depth of my suffering so I’ll just let the facts speak for themselves: this morning a French person (me) stood in a French bakery in France surrounded by French people and pointed at a baguette and said “what is this called”

liebelesbe

attaching something to an email is so scary. what if i accidentally put hard-core porn in there. i don't think i have any downloaded but what if i do and i attached it to the email. what then.