i-was-once-a–tortoise:

travelling back to the paleolithic era to explain to a neanderthal that in the future there will be food that is simultaneously disgusting and also the best tasting food you’ve ever eaten. the neanderthal nods and says “oh yeah we have that” and leads me to a clearing in the woods where a perfectly normal mcdonalds sits.

greelin:

sometimes angels are real. And they are in the form of the people letting you merge from the ramp onto the highway

actuallycuteanimals:

a-book-of-creatures:

riverbaptism:

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Note that Africa isn’t on there. Proud bastion of Bovidae!

There is actually one (1) species of deer native to Africa: the Atlas deer, native to Morocco, Algeria and Tunisia

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streetlight-halo:

A digital drawing, done in dark, cool colors with bright warm accents. It depicts a bus stop in front of a dark, wooded area, shrouded in night or late evening, lit by a streetlamp on one side. It’s pretty heavily graffitied, and several cigarette butts lay scattered on the sidewalk. On the bench under the shelter sits an angel- a shockingly bright semi-abstract design. It’s vaguely humanoid, with several humanoid faces. Also in the design are incorporated several wings and patches of feathers, electric wires, eyes, glowing rings, and roman numerals in the position of a clock’s numbering. A thin , rectangular red border rings the image.ALT

angel waiting at the bus stop will soon find that, freshly fallen from a higher dimension, it does not have any money for the fare, and its divine oddity will shock and blind the driver and passengers, but will not count towards any actual payment

kvtnisseverdeen:

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THE ERAS TOUR: 1989 OUTFITS

Aquamarine Green | Sunrise Boulevard Yellow | Rose Garden Pink | Crystal Skies Blue (x)

urboymutual:

had a dream the cw rebooted supernatural but under the premise that fans decide what happens next in the show via instagram polls for some reason and i tried to recreate the image i saw in my dreams

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duckdotcom:

slapping modeling clay around blindly without thought or purpose, i look down and find a perfectly sculpted replica of myself seated at a table with a lump of modeling clay before me, similarly shaped into a still smaller instance of the same scene. and i am afraid to look up

kigiom:

not romantic not platonic but a secret third thing (so devoted the lines blur)