yellow, nerdery, geeky things, horror, zombies, comic book culture, spider-man, batman, iron man, the hulk, spongebob, squidward, artsy shit, fuzzy hats, guys in dresses, girls in ties, unicorns, shiny things, taking back sunday, mindless self indulgence, sharks, jaws, re-animator, big time rush, lady gaga, phineas and ferb, nerdy girls, geeky boys, hipster shit, cephalopods, turtles, fish, hitchcock, psych, saw, star trek
Blood Land Dynamic Science Fiction cover, December, 1952
(via fuckyeahsciencefiction)
what to wear when…an angel.
did you ever notice how in the bible, when ever god needed to punish someone, or make an example, or whenever god needed a killing, he sent an angel? did you ever wonder what a creature like that must be like? a whole existence spent praising your god, but always with one wing dipped in blood. would you ever really want to see an angel?
post 378 of an infinity-part series
what to wear when…the crane wife.
and all the stars were crashing ‘round as i laid eyes on what i’d found
my crane wife, my crane wife, my crane wife, my crane wife
now i helped her and i dressed her wounds
and how i held her beneath the rising moon
and she stood to fly, and she stood to fly awaypost 371 of an infinity-part series
Model- Audrey Kitching
Photographer- Liz Besanson
Designer Wardrobe Styling- Heartless Revival
Make-up- Angela Saracino
Hair-stylist- Mackenzie Hughes
(via therealaudreykitching)
what to wear when…leda.
a sudden blow: the great wings beating still
above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed
by the dark webs, her nape caught in his bill,
he holds her helpless breast upon his breast.
how can those terrified vague fingers push
the feathered glory from her loosening thighs?
and how can body, laid in that white rush,
but feel the strange heart beating where it lies?post 290 of an infinity-part series
what to wear when…reigning as the corvid queen. a thin, black telephone wire slices the sky like an a teacher’s corrective slash. it slants down slightly when she perches on it, her talons scratching and tapping as her claws close. her feathers are a gleaming oil-black. she hurtles an aggressive screech and clicks her beak. mythology paints her kind as evil omens and death-bringers. after centuries of assumptions, she decided that if mankind were to hate her, she’d have to earn it. she won’t settle for being the corpse-gnawer, the wartime warning - no, if she were to be seen as death, she would be Death with a capital D, queen of the underworld, queen of death and blood and even atonement.
post 256 of an infinity-part series
