#unreal physics

[shawnthebro]

Instead of floating weapons, we may want them to drop to the ground when switching them out. Let’s add it!

[facts-i-just-made-up]

What's the punishment for breaking the laws of physics?

10-15 years in prism.

[strechanadi]

Leonore Baulac, Mathieu Ganio

Mayerling

photo Helena Maria Buckley

[fortjester]

the official Unreal Unearth track listing per the cd/vinyl covers has each song (or in a few cases, a pair of songs) subtitled with circles of hell from dante's inferno (and in the cases of De Selby pt. 1 & 2, and First Light, the Descent into hell and the Ascent back out) so uhhh. smth to think on.

[elvisqueso]

Character Parallels: this very specific way of being in each others' space.

Pocahontas (1995) [+ Extended Edition]

[meirimerens]

(wip) There Will Be Herb Brides Soon Smiles this one is my fave of the 3 I have to say it… hate to have favorites but sometimes I do… haven’t been able to work on my Pythia-type brides lineup for a minute so I gave her the leather & pearls headband instead. new thing they can have.

to meee because I’m herb-brides-as-shamans-pilled (basically canon tbh they just do it A Specific Way) the leather headband with leather strips/leather strips with pearls I give the brides is inspired by that (often black) (often leather/thread(?)) fringe you see from the hats of some siberian shamans. herb brides don’t have hats so I have to fiddle with ways to make it some other ways. it’s like a diadem.

(using the word “siberian” and not a specific ethnic group because while I think these pics are all from buryat shamans [i keep that mfing thang (amount of reference pictures) on me] I’ve seen that fringe on the shamanic garbs of other ethnic groups such as mongol, oroqen, khakas, evenki, selkup, tuvan etc and I’m using all as inspiration)

[lifemod17]

Come on now say it with me: THANK YOU RUTH!!!

The one hand on the wheel. It's so over for me.

📸: Ruthlessimagery | instagram

Pinkpop Festival || 06/23/2024

[jaeminvore]

serious case of pretty face omfg ©️

[fehck]

[atelierlili]

Peeta Mellark: *exists*

Katniss Everdeen:

[facts-i-just-made-up]

what is time made of

In many myths, thread. The norns spin it, the fates spin it, when your time is up the gods cut it. Oddly as string theory is developed and quantum physics separates the pop-cult chaff from the best grains of scientific principle, we are finding that this ancient representation may be a very apt explanation for how the universe works. The big difference being that while Greek and Norse myth attribute the thread to three nature spirits, we now know from quantum science that the thread emerges from Gigubrugnoria the Time Spider and the spinnerets of her magic Fate Cloaca.

[localkittycat]

me irl / kinsona / fursona / how i see myself

yay :3

[miitopiaenjoyer]

Cuddling!! :D

[skymallnine]

Holodecks are far too dangerous to run inside a delicate starship, which is why I will be strapping mine to the outside of my ship.

Everyone feeling real confident until I decloak with a full array of physics-defying fantasy weapons and all the safeties turned off. How far does my holodeck extend? How long has it been running? How certain are you that every panel in your hull is a real, physical object?

Computer 😎 end program

[totally-a-real-dragon]

hello. i is dragon. real very real dragon yes mhm.

\

Ran by @fireboaserpent after one too many encounters with @real-british-empire @hawaii-official and @the-real-catholic-church

I go by he/him, and I am silly. For the inbox, pretty much anything goes except explicit NSFW, don't be weird

Transphobes be gone! TERFs be gone! Aphobes be gone! Biphobes be gone! AKA just be cool man. Don't be racist, don't be any sorta queerphobic, don't be ableist - just really don't be a dick and ur fine.

Also get outta here if you believe that cluster b disorders are evil smh.

EDITS:

If you're thinking of tagging me, go for it! I love being tagged <3 please tag me. please pleaseplea-

I also love silly tag games and gimmick events(?) idk what to call them

[javierduffy]

“uh … it’s a bit girly … no?” javier examines himself in the reflection of his knife’s blade, looking this-a way and that, the dark blue of a large silken bow now peeking sheepishly around his neck as it sits gently in his hair. next to him, kieran clams up a smidge, hands still held close to his chest nearby his completed ribbon project on javier’s head. he finds it in himself to wring his hands a time or two rather than immediately undo his work as javier seems to continue to formulate his final opinion. “you … think so? look at me?” kieran asks, politely as a mouse. javier easily complies, turns at his hips and looks behind, up at kieran where he sits on the stump above him.

kieran, as he peers over, can’t help the meadow of flush that blooms over his neck, then his ears, then his nose and his cheeks. he can tell javier is deep in thought by the look on his face, mouth twisted just a might sideways, cocking his mustache awry, and the deep wrinkle sat between his brows. the ribbon he used matches javier’s vest perfectly, and the shine of the silk warms bright in the sun, just like every piece of jewelry and metal javier has adorned himself with. with this ribbon, javier’s hair sits lower on his head, ponytail draped down his nape and more hair framing his face in his bangs. kieran resists an urge to tuck one side back behind his ear.

kieran thinks that he looks like a painting, a muse, a love letter so heartbreakingly full of adoration that the only language it could be written in is bright swipes of pigment on a canvas. as he makes eye contact with the silk squinting around the red of a necktie, he thinks that javier may be right, if ‘girly’ could sum up ’poetry written in effeminate reverence’.

kieran always did think women made better art, wrote better books- found a better way to love. softer. warmer. prettier. like javier.

the world sounds like it’s underwater.

“i think … it’s very pretty. it suits you real well.”

earnest to a fault, the look in kieran’s eye dances gingerly with javier’s internal voice. it dips and sways him, and javier, despite his instinct, finds himself charmed by its rhythm.

“-b-but! i could take it out! if you don’t-“ javier looks down at himself in his knife again, the sunlight filtered through the leaves glinting a yellow green around his dark features, and kieran hands him patience on a silver platter. a rich blue makes friends with bright green quite easy, javier thinks. this is how he must look through kieran’s mossy lens.

“pretty … yes. you know, i think you may be right. i’ll keep it. gracias.”