#but Jurassic Park is fuckin stupid
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babysitting gig
ellie williams x reader
♡ - you're called to babysit and ellie’s not ready for you to leave.
hii :) i babysat yesterday nite so this little fic was inspired by that. i hope you like and pls show some luv! thank you < 3
it’s around 9pm. you were called by your usual family about a last minute babysitting gig on a quiet friday evening with ellie, the two of you in bed re-watching jurassic park for the … nth time. she was laid on your shoulder knocked out at around the half point of the movie, and not wanting to wake her you stayed in place and continued watching.
you were in a bit of a dilemma, being that it was technically one of your little sleepover nights with your girlfriend and you were awfully comfy cozied up against her.
buuuttt this family always paid quite well, and who were you to pass up that offer? nonetheless, you agreed to the frantic mother on the phone who was yelling over a crying newborn.
you looked down at ellie on your shoulder who was lightly snoring, the bright illumination from the tv casting a soft glow over her features. she looked so peaceful, and you felt like the worst person in the world for what you were about to do next.
carefully, you inched farther and farther away before she snuggled closer to you, trying to find the comfortable warmth of your shoulder again. you whisper her name, “ellie.” but she doesn’t move. you stroke your hand over her hair, whispering again, “ellieee.” before she sniffles harshly and hums.
“i gotta get up. you gotta let me get up,” you try to move away but she still doesn't budge, groaning complaints under her breath.
“ellieee, please, come onnn. i have to babysit. like right now!” you whisper yell against the top of her head, and this time she rises up, rubbing her eyes and weakly lifting a hand up at the tv.
“but jurassiasm park is still…” she trails off, slightly disoriented. finally, you slide out of bed to rummage around in her drawer that had some of your spare clothes inside.
she watches your silhouette run around the room, and when you’re pulling your shirt over your head, she yawns, “damn babe, you're sexy.” her voice is muffled behind her hand and you snicker, muttering “shut up”.
you quickly change from pajamas to regular clothes, running out of her room and to the bathroom to freshen up.
ellie remains sitting there staring blankly at the TV, and due to her sleepy daze, she doesn’t realize your absent presence until a minute later. “oh.” mindlessly, she climbs out of bed, tripping over an astronaut figurine on the way. "fuck, that hurt."
you see her standing in the doorway of the bathroom, scratching her side while squinting due to the bright light. her head is leaning against the banister of the door when you lock eyes with her in the mirror.
“hi. what are you doing?” you ask quietly, and she just shrugs. “watching my beautiful girlfriend do… stuff.” she mumbles, yawning once more. you chuckle and shake your head before she murmurs, “i think i gotta pee, babe.”
“then come pee, ellie. promise i won’t look at you.” you say, leaning forward to wipe out crust from the corner of your eye. ellie waddles in and sits on the toilet, staring blankly at the wall for what seems like an eternity.
"y'know, you don't have to leave." you hear her mutter and you glance over to see her wide eyed, staring straight ahead. zoned out.
you sigh, adjusting your shirt. “i know, but it won't be for long.” ellie only grumbles under her breath, shaking her head. “stupid baby. takin’ away my girl. got the fuckin nerve—”
she flushes the toilet and rudely shoves you to side to wash her hands. you scoff while glaring at her, and she mumbles a sorry before shaking her hands of excess water, dragging her feet out the bathroom and down the hall.
when you return back, she’s asleep. you smile at how pretty she looks, gathering your things and shutting off the TV before going over to press a kiss to her forehead. she stirs when you walk away, calling your name.
“c’mere, i gotta give you a goodbye kiss and shit,” she groans while sitting up. you walk back over to stand in front of her, clutching the strap of your bag. "you not mad anymore?"
"i wasn't mad... just can't believe you like babies more than your own girlfriend." you roll your eyes. "it's just easy money, el." you lean down to press a kiss to her forehead, before she protests. “nooo, on the lips babe, come here,”
you press a kiss to her lips before pulling away and she scratches her head, yawning yet again. “when… when’re you gonna be back?” you wait until she finishes her yawn, smiling at her droopy eyes. “i dunno, maybe around 1? they’ll probably text me—“
“how the fuck, is that baby keepin’ you hostage or something?” her sleepy voice complains, and you chuckle at her concern.
“s’okay, ellie. i’ll be back before you know it. just go back to sleep.” she lays back down, grumbling gibberish to herself since she still can’t grasp how you’re gonna be gone for that long.
you quietly creep away, merely a step out the door when you hear her calling your name again. “wait, one more kiss—heyheyhey, come baccckkk.”
you laugh and run over to her, pressing a big kiss to her lips and pecking all over her freckles that you love. “okay, okay, i really gotta go. i’ll see you later, el. love you.”
she watches you run out the door, before she sighs and plops against the pillows, already missing you. “love you too, babe.”
#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams drabble#first pic to tumblr.com... eek#ok now that it’s out i kinda hate it
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in the secret relationship au fuckin... swk shaking macaque by the shoulders after mk came over unexpectedly like
"you can turn your body intangible, WHY WOULD YOU HIDE FROM THE KID BEHIND THE CURTAIN??"
"I PANICKED AND HID INSTEAD AND THEN I THOUGHT MOVEMENT WOULD ATTRACT HIS ATTENTION"
"LIKE A DINOSAUR MACAQUE?? ARE YOU CALLING MY KID A TREX??"
“I’m not calling him a t-rex- T-rex’s didn’t even work like that you can’t take all your information from Jurassic Park what are you an idiot-”
“do NOT try to distract me from this Macaque if it weren’t for my quick thinking you would’ve gotten CAUGHT”
“you shifted into a cat when you could’ve used your invisibility spell instead-”
“we don’t talk about that- at least I turned into SOMETHING ELSE you were just behind the cURTAIN-”
Macaque finally manages to grab hold of Wukong’s arms and tries to shut him up by leaning forwards and kissing him. Wukong lets him do this for one entire minute before he pulls back, picks Macaque up with one arm, and walks over to the lake to throw him into the water for being stupid
Macaque is laughing by the time he gets thrown
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I'm only, like, 100 pages into the first Jurassic Park book, but I'm almost completely convinced that the reason the park failed as badly as it did was because everyone in the books was fuckin stupid.
Like yeah, I 100% agree that you shouldn't bring back extinct animals en masse with how little we really know about them, but like- that's not even the reason the park failed so badly.
These people are so fucking dumb oh my gosh- they get to the resort and the first thing Ellie does is notice that they're growing poisonous ferns right outside the swimming pool. And apparently they're not even extinct ferns?? They still exist in Brazil and Colombia! Like- they must be ignoring this shit on purpose now,,, how else do you fuck up that badly oh my gosh.
Not to mention the dinosaurs were already eating people on mainland Costa Rica before the story even started,,, like holy hell how do you actually fuck up that badly
#and i didn't even mention the part where wu describes how they figure out what dinosaur the dna encodes for#like it's not even hubris in this like it was in the movies#hammond straight up just woke up one morning and decided he wanted to kill people by being criminally negligent on purpose#jurassic park#jurassic park book
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𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧, 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐞, 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝
“I need some salves and shit for intense body beatings!”
“Look, my husband got the living shit beat out of him and it’s all my fault!”
“Help me take his pain away, pronto!”
“You’re a fucking idiot. That’s what you are.”
“This ain’t fucking Jurassic Park.”
“I am so embarrassed for you because I am a professional martial artist.”
“Come on. Let’s just you and me hang.”
“Well, you know I love a sibs-free hang sesh.”
“I’ll rip your asshole out and eat it and kill you!”
“Get this pillowcase off my fucking face!”
“These fucking animals snatched me straight out my whip!”
“I figured out the part about the cousins being involved, maybe you can find some fucking clues, too.”
“Let me guess, you were sitting there quitting, giving up.”
“I am in no mind space to be teased right now.”
“We have been kidnapped, you fucking bitches!”
“Puke on yourself and eat it, please.”
“Is that you in here screaming like a bitch?”
“Well, we’re going to ransom you to your daddy for money.”
“You deserve this life, dude!”
“I can’t see you, but I can smell ya.”
“Why don’t you laugh in my face, you motherfucker?”
“It’s not funny to do jokes like that.”
“And how can I help you on this blessed day?”
“You ruined my life. You didn’t think I was gonna make you pay?”
“Five million a head.”
“You must think I’m fucking stupid.”
“I sure do think you’re stupid, but what does that have to do with anything?”
“Oh, no. You got your facts mixed up.”
“You’re a self-righteous asshole.”
“It’s filthy as fuck in here.”
“Chicken doo-doo is getting all ground into my fuckin’ seduction dress!”
“How can you eat in this dirty-ass heat?”
“When that door opens and the little one walks in, I’m gonna slay him, cut his fuckin’ face off, and wear it as a mask.”
“Sounds insane and not doable.”
“Serves you right, trying to argue with me.”
“You know, literally, that is the thing that pisses me off the most about you. Every single time I suggest anything, you’re so eager to just jump down my throat, punch holes in my shit.”
“Homeboy, like you’re not trying to always argue with me.”
“You’re constantly acting like I’m gonna mess everything up.”
“You do mess everything up.”
“I will fucking kill you!”
“I demand to be held captive in a private silo right now! ...Please!”
“I wondered what that was, but I thought it rude to ask.”
“Stop crying! Ain’t nobody gonna ransom you!”
“That’s a good job with the voodoo dolls.”
“Please, let me help. I’ll sacrifice my life and my body if need be.”
“We’re gonna get more money than we know what to do with!”
“I mean normally, yeah, I could, but you know, I am malnourished right now.”
“Wanna see this? Freak athleticisms?”
“Just do it. What’s wrong with you?”
“Boy, your daddy didn’t leave you with much, did he?”
“Your daddy threw money at you instead of raising you right.”
“Fear of God is the best chance you got.”
“If you don’t have the stomach for it, hell, I’ll do it.”
“I don’t mind killin’. It ain’t nothin’ but a thing.”
“Do your dumps, boy!”
“He thinks that I don’t have it in me to hurt you.”
“You don’t run nothing but your mouth.”
“He chafes real bad, and a burnt rectal from cheap TP could make him very despondent.”
“I bet no one’s gonna miss me.”
“I don’t want my kids to be one of those kids that loses a parent like somebody in a fucking Disney movie.”
“I don’t want my sons to be Bambis.”
“I never want to be treated any differently than you guys just ‘cause I’m a lady.”
“He ain’t following any sort of rules about ladies and mens.”
“Kill the biggest one ‘cause he’s tough to handle.”
“I know I get on your nerves, always riding you and shit. It’s just because I feel like somebody needs to make sure everything’s gonna turn out okay.”
“You do get on my nerves, but if you get murdered, I promise to try and avenge you.”
“Make sure that my wife and kids have a good life, watch after ‘em?”
“Yeah, I feel like your kids are old enough to take care of themselves.”
“I’m just gonna go into beast mode and start biting faces and dicks.”
“If I die, please don’t remember me that way.”
“Oh, god. Oh, shit. This is happening.”
“I came all this way to bust you out of here.”
“I’m sure that little dick would love to see me murdered.”
“I mean, he might not mind you dead, but he wouldn’t want to see it happen.”
“Did you call your mama and tattletale on us?”
“Your brother there, he’s a big dope.”
“You try stopping me, I’ll put another hole in your face.”
“Kin don’t mean nothing.”
“Family’ll turn on you on a dime. You gotta treat ‘em like you treat anybody else.”
“Get the fuck out of the car.”
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Seeing people online who're mad that the Five Nights at Freddy's movie wasn't more faithful to the source material is SO fucking funny.
Uhhh it's about a night security guard, Mike Schmidt, manning a run-down Chucky Cheese-esque kid's pizzeria where the animatronics are possessed by the ghosts of children who were murdered by the pizzeria's owner (William Afton) in the past and now these confused ghosts are aggressive and dangerous. And I'm definitely not versed in the deepest realm of FNaF lore, but I do know that's the story in the movie and is ALSO the story in the games. It's... it's the same shit.
Admittedly, I don't think THIS scene has any basis in the source material. ... I could be wrong.
In fact, this movie was so foolishly faithful to the games that they included plot details that are pretty stupid if you think about them for any longer than a minute. And unfortunately, while watching a movie, you get LOTS of time to think. (EXAMPLE: We're told that, when the kids disappeared shortly after visiting Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, the police repeatedly combed the place from top to bottom but couldn't find any sign of the kids ... because their bodies were so "cleverly" crammed into the animatronics' internals. .............. Uh-huh, okay. ......... So like, did any of these cops have even a single uncongested nasal passage? Did any of them bring even one dog?)
But no, that ain't enough. There are ACTUAL people over on YouTube and Reddit and shit who are pissed the movie wasn't focused on WATCHING THE CAMERAS AND NARROWLY SLAMMING THE DOORS. Real human beings have openly expressed this opinion. With seeming sincerity.
Oh lord.. imagine if the deeply idiotic electrical system at the center of FNaF's gameplay ("Keeping a door closed uses up electricity, so you have to keep them open most of the time because that doesn't use any and the power will run out if you hold them closed, at which point you won't be able to close ANY doors anymore and you'll be vulnerable!" WTF) was literally translated in a narrative we were meant to take seriously. Shit would be fuckin' HILARIOUS.
People absolutely floor me. I think they're spoiled now by just how faithful film adaptions of other media have become. Nobody would make the 1993 version of Jurassic Park today, y'know? Nobody would make the 2002 Resident Evil movie, either. We're in a place now where movies adhere closer than ever to their source material, which I believe is what's making viewers/fans even pickier about the tiny details that're changed. You HAVE to make changes to bring a story from one medium to another, of course. But now ANY change is treated as a betrayal of the sacred source. .... Well. Unless the the source in question is so obscure that only a very limited fanbase even exists. That's really the only way you can get away with going full "1993 Super Mario Bros." these days.
To be clear, I don't think that's a bad thing. Even as a big fan of the 1993 Jurassic Park and the 2002 Resident Evil, I'm not pining for those days. But I do think we should look back on prior examples so as to better appreciate the faithfulness our film adaptions receive today.
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You know what would be fuckin cool? A horse girl movie, but with dinosaurs.
Like, a world where dinosaurs never went extinct and humans just kinda evolved with them, eventually utilizing them like we did horses, using them for riding and farm work and such, complete with bad cgi dinosaurs and bad acting.
Enter the main character, a city girl whose parents died tragically in a car crash or something, so she has to go live on her uncle/grandparents' ranch, despite hating dinosaurs because when she was 5, she fell off a dinosaur and vowed to never ride again.
She meets the conventionally subpar attractive farm hand who only speaks in old wise countryisms, and immediately gets in an argument with him for some stupid fuckin reason and is TOTALLY not gonna fall in love with him by the end of the week.
As her grandparent/uncle show her around the farm, she sees a... (googles dinosaurs for five minutes).... triceratops?... yeah, sure, let's go with that.
She meets a triceratops that's totally wild and untamable, and when she sees it, she knows that they have a bond. Her grandparents tell her to stay away from it because it's dangerous and wild, and no one can tame it, but she's like, "No, it's not dangerous, it's just scared and misunderstood! No one understands it, but I do!" Despite having zero knowledge or experience with dinosaurs.
She ignores their warnings, spending time with the triceratops and slowly training it, and when the farm hand sees them together, he sees their connection, and he offers to help, giving her lessons and support instead of informing his employer that their granddaughter/neice is messing with a large, supposedly dangerous wild animal that could easily kill her.
After a while, the grandfather finds out and tells her to stay away, letting on that he plans to sell the triceratops in a desperate attempt to raise money because they're about to lose the farm! The girl knows she can't let this happen, so despite the warnings and the fact that she promised to never ride again, she works to train the triceratops for the big race/rodeo/barrel racing/jumping competition that conveniently is offering enough prize money to save the farm.
She works hard, and despite the triceratops suffering an injury/getting sick, probably caused by the stuck up rich bitch who's also competing and hates the main girl cause she's poor, she makes it to the competition and wins! She proves to her grandparents/uncle that the triceratops could be trained, and that she was right all along, and the grandparents/uncle is so proud and tell her that she's just like her mother, and that she'd be proud.
The main girl and the farm hand fall in love and start dating (SHOCKER), and the farms saved, and they ride off on dinosaurs into the sunset.
Cue the credits with cheesy country song about being strong and following your dreams, remixed with the jurassic park theme.
I need this. The world needs this.
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"Speak to me."
"We are the speechless."
"Breathe for me."
"We are the breathless."
"Err for me."
"We are without error."
Music though it was not, to Laika's ears all was in harmony.
"States of being. You have no speech. You have no breath. These are essential to your character and you affirm this for me with devotional chant. Curious. Yet error you claim to be without. This is reflective of covert aspiration, which is to say -- the state you long to be. To claim a without creates distance by dividing you from and externalizing the quality. Error begets Other. Other becomes the glorious pitch-black chocolate bridal fountain of enveloping darkness from which we button-down our men from our bogeys in every gingerbread house we erect, those who protect us being stale and tasteless and our lightly sweetened, lightly-spackled candy walls. (Calories all, these empty walls.) Who is the bogeyman, Jamie Leigh? Why do you persecute he, who is your brother? Are you thankful not, to never know your sister? Why do you not see in him the diamond-mind of a survivor? A gift of God's true and enduring grace? Look at him. See him, silhouetted in the dark. Is he a poor young man whose sole heroic act of liberatory violence did not dim his beauty nor his will nor his valor despite the decades of solitude in which he taught himself how to operate an automobile with no external point of reference, being not a stupid animal in a cage but a plotting, believing and overcoming mind which no incarceration could dim? Dr. Loomis, why is it not clear to you -- clear as the day in which you are most gloriously fat and bald, oh the palm trees are a swayin, always a swayin in my sweet Ill I Noise! Know what it's like to fuck the bear women, kay? There are nothin but fuckin bear women in my hometown. Fuckin horrible needy bear cunts roughshod and matted like outside slippers! It's a collection of hometowns, really. It's a shithole barnacle-spackle stickin like strep throat to the bottom of Lake ^^Itchy Gain's cephalopodan dick-shoe. God, I hate the hometown boys! I don't care what fuckin hometown they're from, I hate the fuckin hometown boys! God, fuck me in my own stupid wheezy nerd doof-throat! I came from a place and occupied it and now I'm carrying its stank here! Fuckin plague rats! A man must transcend his space and so recreate it by the noble act of his heroic vision! Etch on your grave I AM PROVIDENCE and let Providence try'n sneer at their favorite hometown boy, the repressed squid-fucking autist who was the great chronicler of the despairs of Newtonian physics and Darwinian evolution! Ah! I'M AFRAID OF EVERYTHING. There's the black depths of space, and then there's people a shade of two darker! THEY DISAPPEAR WHEN YOU PUT THEM TOGETHER! I HAVE NO DEPTH-PERCEPTION IN ADDITION TO BEING COLORBLIND AND DEVOID OF NIGHT VISION. AHHHHHHHH! I AM THE LITTLE BOY FROM JURASSIC PARK. I HAVE GOGGLES AND MY SISTER KNOWS HOW TO NAVIGATE THREE-DIMENSIONAL USER INTERFACES! Damn it, Janet. I woulda liked her more if she was a Jeanette. How many French girls do you have, exactly? Who came from France that was worth remembering? Do the French have a personality? I feel the French are particularly easy to caricature cause they're particularly dumb and horny and susceptible to brainwashing which is why they helped invent America? There is like one French boy across a million and more bodies and all of them equally want you to pinch his ass and feed him cheese! Oh my God. Elder brother you leave me breathless! Let's find a really cute, dim-witted boxing hunk and trick him into thinking he's really inta Humphrey Bogart! I need to brainwash someone's dick so far up their ass it becomes a new throat! AHHHHHHHH! I AM THE BOORISH AMERICAN GIRL! I HAVE NO LOYALTY AND WILL SUCK ANYONE'S DICK IF THEY GIVE ME AN IN. OH GOD! OH GOD YES! I'LL JUST TAKE ANYONE INSIDE ME! YOUR POOR, YOUR COCK-HUNGRY, YOUR SHUDDERING MASSES! DON'T WIPE YOUR FEET, I LIKE IT DIRTY! USE THE CHINA, THE CRYSTAL, PUT YOUR FEET UP ON THE COFFETABLE. Film criticism is not inherently insipid? That is a class bias, some of which are irrational. Maybe I got very good reasons for harboring not even covertly elitist attitudes? Do you ever stop and think that stupidity is infectious?
[boop --
ext block limit reached,
writing remainder on hand]
If somebody got in your face and blew snot on you, you'd perceptibly see, feel and smell the splatter and dribbles of nastiness all over and across your face, but what about a stupid comment? To those with senses honed to the subtle, stupidity is painful. It's the equivalent of running into a room to fart, then immediately running out. Some people only exist to be worthless and ruin things. Why is it wrong to exterminate them?"
The third of the Laikanites following behind, licked his finger and to the page, he turned, ruffling a leave of onionskin in the desert air.
"Page limits are a thing, huh? Your scrawl will always be bounded within four corners til you surrender to the supremacy of the scroll. Begetting now an only ever-unfurling moment. Kerouac was the absolute worst, being a Frenchman of the Americas. So good at typing, shoulda worked in an office! A spiral notebook maintains a greater verticality despite being severed into sections of variegated plane. When you put a spine on a text, you are biasing your organism toward the vertebrate. Woven spines are worse than Kerouac, makes ya thicker than the heavy leather covers and gold-dipped edges which always dim to the faintest luster when engaged in their intended purpose of being felt and open! Just a buncha lyin flat on a piece a wood between two decorative end-covers! Don't fuckin get me started on how designed to rot a hunka glue holdin together some pulp is sposed to be? Decomposers all, surrounded in our fetor and our bliss! What monuments remain only plastics, micro to macro, as all clusters in spirographs and stalagmites, colonies of tealeaves unread and easy to digest by mouthfuls willingly wadded! Were my words like a sporecloud billowing behind eternally in the weed-choked fields I make, yet not even I could pollute these, the brazen glory of these barren lands where the concrete shines by the metals well-hammered in that sun so gloriously hateful. Each beautiful portrait, each title I have seen sprawled out, promising fresh springs in lands of milk and honey, forgetting I am cattle to be fattened as the land yields forth gold blacker than the tarpits of that dream city like Venice, always sinking ~ Ah, yes! Dante, thank you. Thank you, thank you! Nother fuckin hometown boy we only know cause his virgin-ass, little girl lovin nerd brain fashioned up a hell portal outta the intersection points between where deductive reason failed to feel up the pure anti-mechanics of metaphysics precisely mechanical, ever-implying and revealing which is the great enigma of the cosmic dance, you makin music boxes outta blindspots! Fuck me! Every antique may be haunted, but nothin's quite so haunted as a new buildin! Who the fuck wants to get railed by a Roman poet? They don't let those fuckers inta country club heaven. Sorry, bro! You wanna be a sky god, ditch your homies and fuck-murder a little girl! HEAVEN RUNS ON THE FLESH OF LITTLE DEAD GIRLS! TELL THE PEOPLE! HEAVEN EATS AND FUCKS LITTLE DEAD GIRLS! Sometimes they're gracious enough to settle for cute lil gay boys, but ya better feel lucky ya got your ass picked, fucker! You sit there and never forget you will always get picked last for suck-ball cause only cunts you got got shit in em. Back or front, they got shit in em. You're shit and you only exist to make more shit. YUM YUM. FUCK A LITTLE GIRL IN THE ASS! SHIT'S NOT THE PROBLEM IT'S YOU! BOYS COME OUT A CUNT SHIT COMES OUTTA ASS. SEE THE CONNECTION? A girl is an egg. BY WHICH I MEAN A GIANT SOFTSHELL ASS LARVAE WHICH CAN SHIT AND SECRETE OTHER ASS-EGGS.
STRAIGHT BROS RUUULE!"
This time, he turned the page pre-emptively, making space for much larger scrawl to encapsulate the drama of the telling.
"BIGGER FONT! YES! THAT'S WHAT I WANT! I decree all separations between calligraphy and prose to be in Error. Moveable type was an aberration, begetting only uniform men for standard application! In what is handwritten, we carry the primal charge of transmission rather than of duplication. The life of any text is fixed when it fails to account for the lilt and sway of engagement, not only to now and later, but too imagined past from future! To be merely absorbed will deplete a text in inevitable course if it does not inspire a fervor which begets imitation, translation, reconstruction, adaptation ~ in other words, a text is a living thing which in turn must be fed, nurtured, powdered with the ashes of those who willingly immolate their flesh to give of their neater, and so too must be starved, mutilated, left to molder, appearing discarded to be found. We might understand then, the mass duplication and dissemination of volumes to be always as the pipe Cici n'est pas, never really themselves. A text existing in a live medium, one might say --which nevertheless occupies a fixed space, it being still three-dimensional (despite its ineffability) is a live point of tension still endowed with the act of its creation, for it is the transmission of a sequence of moments to a point in space. A crystallization. A live feed which functions as a drip and nozzle. A stone always passing, sweetest and most serrated to which it is most tender. It is an etching, a point in space which is navigated to, of voluntary enticement. It composes a link in a chain with correspondences not only to other chains in the imaginary web, but so too their anchor: the live infrastructure which facilitates its connections, all the more real for how it influences our minds. Similarly unreal, for mind is distinct from brain, as a forest is distinct from the trees, a forest being an ecosystem of which trees are merely a part. Hear the birdsong of my every word, I needn't command you. Hear how even my silence blisters in these desert wastes? Was I simply a compendium of neurons, music would likewise be simply an assembly of instruments, yet this is self-evidently absurd! We understand that music arises not only of the instrument, the breath of the musician, the eyes which have traced the sheets and recorded -- by seahorse dances in representative time -- that motion committed to a memory of repetition, working in tandem with the fingers to manipulate the breath in correspondences to something they can hear and make real, but which is nevertheless... not real until it's actualized in a performance, potential being the paradox of an embryo in a womb. No clear delineation between Self and Other except by assertions as much willed as proven.
[down to the foot this time --
far out of your way. -- scrib.]
A dead child. Born dead, for his mother was dead the whole of his incubation. No life in her, none to feed his soul. Born hungry for the life she never lived. Though he breathes, he speaks, he stares and sees. Born dead. No woman I designed as perfect as she, grown from the finest selection of bones, hand-sewn with a flesh of my own conjuring from alchemical arts black as the inner cities out which I hail, could look upon him without shrieking, he being a monster and she but his mate."
At last, a long exhale Laika let out. As a train departing a station would kick up a storm in winding tunnels in the dead of night, eyes bleary for it was still such a long way home, and you knew not how long you would need to wait in the cold and dark, the ambiguous eyes of strangers all about. The uncertainty of your being inviting probing, as if showcasing by hem of garter a wound you longed to see torn open that blind-eyes may glimpse in any spilling out what another wouldn't say -- half-begging the blind to reinforce those things you knew never to be -- he found himself ... uncertain how, somewhere far from the previous moment, half-aware of an apotheosis partially-recognized, yet dinged by the despair of how far he still had to go, how little progress he'd seemed to have made, having only recognized how lost he was.
"Where were we again?"
The Head of Your Guard carried you in his broad and burly forearms, hide stripped from his back and draped heroically over his shoulder in a manner as rebellious as it was causal, so you sat cozy against the cotton-rib clinging to his sweat-dampened chest -- the stony pillows of his sloping chest -- as behind him, the second who was lithe and scrappy before him, followed stamping empty bootprints in the desert wastes, so any man looking behind saw always two sets of footprints in the sand.
The fourth Laikanite, peering over the shoulder of the third, following your train of thought, no matter how the cars separated and realigned and composed fabulous Unburnable Straw Men of Tin Plate and Steel Wire before disassembling back into component cars -- some flinging themselves heroically sidelong into the darkness of the London Underground, so far they crossed the Subterranean Atlantic Channels to New York and Were Venerated As The Caskets of Giants -- all of this, he followed ... on the fantastic magnetic bullet tracks of the former world, Victorian only for its namesake fancied himself Victor no matter diminutive, those miracles of lattice and glass into which we saw only the porthole in time, broad as his winding clockface.
"You have yet to chastise the historical fiction of Dr. Loomis and all he reveals of the instrumental nature of institutional care. This was your entry point into a torrential screed about the contaminating nature of the so-called hometown boys, an unofficial archetype fit for integration, which those of taste will likewise recognize and find odious for their banality. An emerging pattern is a social currency, and yet no matter how typical a sleight this may seem, it remains too polite to commit to any official guide, guaranteeing rubes somewhere will always be aggrevied. Citing historical locals ranging from Rhode Isle to the Colossus, I believe you were building to a discreet yet penetrating union of these disparate topics in relation to something a touch more Germanic?"
Laika smacks his head.
"What I do without you, perfect and best little best boy! Holy fuck, yes! Yes, please! Remember everything I say and anticipate my every move, and not only that -- refine it to something smooth and digestible to the idiot masses who eat only baby food or shit! YUM YUM. Mama's gotta chew it up for you first, lil duckie! Still good, no matter what end it came out. Stop being such a finnicky eater! Fucking feeding you dinner is not fucking 9/11, oh my god! Why you think every fuckin meal's gonna get hijacked by terrorists! You wish you had a burly, bare-chested bearded Man God throwing over tables. SMASH SMASH SMASH! FUCK I WANT VIOLENCE! FUCKING TIRED OF THE CONSTANT NONSTOP IMPLICATION OF VIOLENCE THAT WILL NEVER COME! JUST FUCKING DIE! KILL THEM ALL! KILL FUCKING EVERYONE. Goddamn it I wanna cry every fucking moment of every day for reasons I can't think feel or understand and it's of no concern to anyone. GODFUCKING DAMN IT! JUST LET THE BLOOD SPILL. LET ME WASH THE SHIT FROM MY HANDS IN THEIR BLOOD FOR YOU GIVE ME ONLY DIRTY WATER. Why. WHY IS EVEN THEIR BLOOD HEAVY WITH METALS AND POISONS AND PLASTICS! MY DOG HEART HAS WORMS. MY DOG BRAIN HAS WORMS. I JUST WANNA FUCKING SCRUB EM ALL OUT WITH A BULLET! FEED ME GUNPOWDER FEED ME DIRT! WHY CAN'T YOU JUST FUCKING ADMIT YOU'RE TRYING TO KILL ME! WHY MUST YOU DESECRATE ALL WHICH IS SACRED JUST TO MAKE ME SUFFER MORE, I WHO GAVE YOU SO MUCH YOU DIDN'T ASK FOR AND COULD NEVER LET YOU REFUSE!"
He nods, graciously. Thankful for this praise.
"You would need to think and organize your thoughts and so become a man of the disciplined caliber which Cpt. Schreibermachen assumed you were, it being the guise you affected most graciously to endear yourself to him and drink of his cock slop as the first stagnant oasis you did not hallucinate, but called down to the dry earth by the tumult of your song ;-- spiraling forth, always with a jangle, a dancing abundance of fae."
Laika looked at him.
Laika wanted to backhand him across the face and stomp his skull in with his boots, peferably getting his teeth and nose firmly pressed to a good comfy rock, to maximize the ballistic potential for total breakage of his cheeks and jaw.
Laika realized ... this would be counterproductive.
"Yes... Good job, me. Just for that, no cookie tonight."
He nodded only his chin, retreating back over his brothers shoulder where he may as-typical admire and fine-tune his compositions.
"Well... This has already given me a lot to think about. Might be we should just keep headin on out? Enjoy the day in contemplative awe?"
(shucks)
laika.qst
laika.qst
life is laika
LAIKA QUEST
The greenery of the park rose before his eyes.
This day it was perfect, as was every won with him.
"Nothing has felt real," he said, never erring.
Never erring from the trees, splendid in their multitude, every knot a peephole staring back from where branch became stump, as the saw stripped only rheum from eyes wide-awake in sleep.
"For a long time."
Looking at him, he saw you clearly.
Feeling your eyes on him. You reached for his hand.
There was nothing you needed to say.
He took a breath. The concrete tunnels of his chest forming archways buckled by the shift of the lungs beneath. No pavement shattered.
The cobblestones ran smooth with sweat.
You loved him.
You loved him.
"The loneliness I feel with you is one I could never attain alone. In you, I know once more a primal wound, the loss of a home which never was, compelling moribund imaginings back to new life always malformed. Always necrotic in their yoke, for you wish them to never be again."
The tears were flowing from your eyes.
He said such beautiful things about you.
"The folly that hope is a torment better off buried I never understood a day in my life. Why a man would choose a half-life, always decomposing, forever leeching. In my selfish lust for truth and love, I considered not how he pollutes with every fresh breath giving not his emissions to the trees, but to what catastrophe he wills. Seeing not how he steals from every man by sight alone, every voyage of his eyes a lechery for the sick soul which steers him seeks to claim only that to which he has no right, by virtue of conquests only imagined -- for I saw only he had the gall to rob himself. To deny himself his own nature, his own opportunity, to live in the shadow of another ... as if something sought in the damp and fetor always clinging. Being with you, I recall so many things better off forgotten yet desperate to remember, my own life being a lie I lived to overcome myself... those things I never was. Do you not know, dear brother? Were you not mutilated? Is it not worth it? To strive to be alive? Is it not worth it to look past the past and see ... a scar is an intersection between the canvas and the real, beckoning the three-dimensional, urging the blankness of perfection to strive for its more perfect state in character? Why would you be garbage simply for I took you out of the box and played with you before I put you back? Why must you think you always go back in the box?"
Staring into you. Boring a hole into you.
Imploring you. The implication of an imploding lung.
Beckoning.
Beckoning by marionette strings unpulled.
" . . . "
Your boyfriend was so needy sometimes.
No fucking idea what that was about.
" . . . "
When he looked at you. When he looked and he wondered.
When he begged, begged, begged, for something he could never have.
You couldn't imagine a more perfect revenge.
". . ."
When he exhausted himself. Grew dim and sluggish and leaden.
Wasted every ounce of his willpower assessing his own delusions, unable to piece together how obviously you'd played him.
It made every second worth it.
" . . . "
When he grew weaker. Weaker and weaker.
When you could feel the light drain from his eyes as he could no longer stare. See the processes behind them sputtering and crashing.
It was perfect. It felt right. It was safe.
Bright or dim, he couldn't see you.
Light or dark, you were hidden in plain sight.
" . . . "
You were winning.
You were displaying your evolutionary potential.
You were a live organism.
" . . . "
The surf lapped against the coast. Your cock grew fat in your jammers.
You liked the longer cut. The plunge. The curvature of the head and thigh.
Silky. Black. Wet.
Glimmering as a mass of spidersilk woven of tar.
"Someday," he says.
A shimmer of arsenic and gold glimmers in his eyes.
"I'll make a real boy of you."
" . . . "
You looked to him. You wondered.
You were feeding him. He was eating you.
He did nothing. You only gave in.
He did nothing. So why should you?
You gave in. You gave to him.
Of you graciously, he always recieved.
Why should you not take pride in your every hard-fought victory? Treasure those things which were yours to possess?
For if you were dangling yourself before him and he was too weak to resist, if you could let him rip you limb from limb and choke down your biceps like a beer bong, you deserved a nibble when he tired.
Monster.
He looked like a monster to you.
(He looked like a monster to you.)
"Our every kiss French, in the sub way you train."
(You'll tear my clothes right off.)
You choked on your own spit.
"BRO SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
(Eat my heart and spit out my brain!)
When your face was in his balls. His balls warmed by the sun and gushing blood. When you lipped the head of his cock through the wet lycra and felt it struggle to press, to lunge forth, straining in the membrane which flavored, which coarsened and concealed ... you knew you could remain buried there forever. Never advancing. Never pulling the pullcord with your teeth to unknot and down the cling to throat deep what was yours, what would ferment in time only for you nursed and sipped, but still you rose your eyes to meet his rays ~ the warmth of his lap, the bliss of your every suckling. Found here forever in your brother.
Big bro.
Big bro.
His fingers were behind your ears.
A nailbed to the fold.
You were so weak. You were trembling.
"Keep lapping the head with your tongue, boy. You need to learn patience, never be stupid enough to bite into a jawbreaker. To think the only way we can teach you dedication is by suckling sweets, but what good man would I be, to say nothing of your elder and wiser, if I started you off placed well-beyond your means? Your brilliance in one area does not excuse your frankly remedial lack in others, but that's why we give one-on-one sessions -- to excuse ourselves, we freethinking, freefucking men who needn't be bound in spirit, body and mind to the mechanisms of our workday routine, no matter how the clock keeps ticking, the world keeps spinning, things always falling further down til once more ~"
With a certain penetration of thrust, he was able to press the whole of his cock -- foreskin sliding back inside the sheath -- into a pouch of the fold of his jammer and cling deep to the lining of your throat.
"They go back only up again!"
Gagging. Choking.
Warm. Complete. Full.
Tears in your eyes. Refracting him into rainbows.
You were looking up at him.
See him trifold, rippling backward, inward, outward.
The cosmos he was, of which only you were permitted to drink of his spring, bathe with him in the creek of his imaginings.
Lord Willing. I will always rise.
"With your labors, I am pleased ~
( o )
.
My good boy, it is my pride to call you."
What words could you give him?
He who had them all?
What satisfaction could you give to him?
He who had it all already?
To him, you could pay only the ultimate gift. Your body the altar on which to light his fire.
You, the ashes unfit even for his hands to wipe away, doomed to be blown in the wind, gifted to feed the fields.
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morbius is not a bad movie.
morbius is a fucking terrible movie.
forget the memes. forget jared leto. forget morbing out.
I’m glad I didn’t, and refuse to, give it a single cent.
it is a slapped together formulaic pile of shit made by people who don’t care about originality or cohesion and just want to profit off of the care that goes into the mcu films without putting in the effort of any heart or soul. and yes I say this as someone who thinks everything post-endgame is shallow and empty and not very good (in fact a lot of endgame was bad too especially after I rewatched cap 1). but even then it’s still better than sony’s atrocious log of poo they tried to call a movie.
the trailer? hot garbage. the venom line is dishonest. the vtuber interview was the cringiest thing I’ve ever seen and if you have no idea what I’m talking about don’t look it up please for the love of god I am literally begging you.
it opens with a flashback that flashes further back then flashes forward then flashes forward then returns to the present day. instead of just going in chronological order. it’s jumping around for the sake of jumping around and pretending to be deep and meaningful like it’s memento or kill bill volume 1 or pulp fiction or the butterfly effect or slaughterhouse five or some other actually good movie with heart and soul poured into its script and narrative. this was somehow WORSE than beyond two souls was. SOMEHOW THEY MADE A WORSE NARRATIVE THAN BY DAVID FUCKING CAGE. CONGRATULATIONS 🎉
the plot is basically jurassic park but with vampire bats. see, morby and his bestie have a blood disease so mister morb became a doctor who was so good and cool and awesome they devoted two entire scenes to showing just how of a good and cool and awesome doctor he is. he talked to a little girl and said he was gonna save the world awww how sweet he loves children what a swell guy. he even declined a nobel prize because he’s just so sweet and kindhearted and generous! and he was so good of a doctor he did research on vampire bats because, and I am directly quoting the movie here, VAMPIRE BATS ARE THE ONLY KNOWN LIVING CREATURE WHO EVOLVED SOLELY TO FEED ON BLOOD. even though vampire bats eat a varied diet including fruit. even though ticks fleas and the thing they ripped off MOSQUITOES also solely feed on blood. but I guess we’re just ignoring that insects exist. whatever. pseudoscience bullshit even by comic book standards.
so he goes into morb mode and splices his own DNA with vampire bat DNA (like spiderman but stupider), which turns him into a vampire. but a science vampire without any magic. besides the magic wispies that trail behind him when he flies. because he can fly for some reason. but it makes him *lightning crashes* crave blood so he goes crazy and kills a bunch of people and he’s like OH GOD I’M A MONSTER and if this movie were made fifteen years ago it would have played animal I have become by three days grace or monster by skillet or something which honestly would have improved it by making it bad enough to enjoy making fun of. not here.
so, he drinks the artificial blood that he invented to keep the cravings down. but he says that it’ll stop working soon. eventually. the movie doesn’t subtly indicate this, no, it has the main character talk to the camera like this is dora the explorer or mickey mouse clubhouse or some other show made for literal babies. eventually he resorts to stealing real blood. which would solve the problem. remember this is a big deal and a central driving force behind morb’s motivations. he will kill if he runs out of blood. YET AT THE END OF THE MOVIE HE JUST FUCKIN DRIVES OFF INTO THE SUNSET??? FUCKING GOD DAMN IT (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻ 🤬 SO STUPID 🤬
anyway the best friend he had when they were kids is like hey you cured your horrible blood disease that kept you relegated to walking on crutches just like I had so can I have a cure please? morb says no I will save you from this curse. so best friend is like fuck you I’m gonna become evil then. so he does. he become evil morbius. he’s matt smith the eleventh doctor who by the way. and during this scene he’s got red light on him in every shot and he walks down a street with red shit in the shot and he goes into a nightclub where everything is red HEY IT’S RED LIKE BLOOD AND EVIL DO YOU GET IT??? SUBTLE CINEMATIC STORYTELLING CHEFS KISS. STUPID! (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻ YOU FUCKING HACK!
morby also along the way randomly decides to stop a meth lab because he overhead thugs talking about it so he beats up the meth lab people and remember the cringey trailer where he was like “I’m venom RARGH ha just kidding I’m michael morbius at your service”? yeah well they kept the “I’m venom RARGH” part but the entire rest was gone. that’s right. THAT WAS A TRAILER ONLY MOMENT. AND MORBY LITERALLY ACTUALLY SAYS HE’S VENOM. (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻ 🤬 DUMB 🤬
anyway some dumb shit happens and Token Wimmin gets killed to give Morby ManPain™️ and motivation to fight the bad guy and protect the innocents. except she doesn’t die she turns into a vampire for the sequel. 🙄
Morby fights some cops and stuff with Zack Snyder Random Slow Motion which looks fucking atrocious. Which remember the cops are trying to stop him for all of the murder he did against all of those innocent people but oh don’t worry he told a dying little girl in a hospital that it would all be all right because he’s still a good man on the inside he’s just a monster on the outside augh it’s so goddamn fucking cheesy I hate this stupid movie but there’s only so much of if left thank god fuck everything.
Morby’s final showdown with Evil Doctor Who is just basically he points at him and the vampire bats that he for some reason has magical control over (remember there’s no magic and only science) and then he kills him oh no how sad stupid bullshit happens and he flies away on the backs of the vampire bats into the sunset.
And then the Spiderman No Way Home sky thingy just shows up in the sky and Michael Keaton as Vulture from Spiderman shows up and he talks to Morb and says that he wants to form a team to stop Spiderman. Which… is completely not in line with what No Way Home meant. It’s like they didn’t even fucking watch the movie. I didn’t even watch the movie and I know that’s fucking stupid. Meaning that Sony wants to open the gates for the Sinister Six movie.
So, the Sinister Six was Doc Ock, Electro, Kraven, Mysterio, Sandman, and Vulture. Then the roster changed around to include Hobgoblin, Scorpion, Shocker, Venom (briefly before they betrayed him), Lizard, Chameleon, and Rhino. Green Goblin was too technically but only once and even then it was the Sinister Twelve. Morbius was in the Sinister Sixty Six. Neither of those count or are that marketable and thus will never ever happen. So out of the roster we have left who weren’t basically removed from being threats (or killed), you have Vulture, Kraven, Hobgoblin, Scorpion, Chameleon, and Rhino. Okay fine I’m sure that with Leto’s Morbius, Keaton’s Vulture, Giamatti’s Rhino, Hardy’s Venom, it would be easy to pick from the other four. I might actually like to see Kraven or Hobgoblin or Chameleon implementer in a Spiderman film. So it’s definitely POSSIBLE. But how in the fuck are we gonna EVER get a good movie from Sony with six villains??? THEY COULDN’T EVEN DO THREE CORRECTLY, AND THEY TRIED THAT TWICE. There is no possible way on this earth in this universe in this timeline they’re ever going to make it not a complete steaming dump all over Stan Lee’s legacy. Morbius alone is a clusterfuck. And Venom is only good because they know what they’re doing and marketing it towards their specific niche. He would not work in an ensemble cast. Even a director who’s good was barely able to hold together Two-Face and Joker, and even a director who’s competent was barely able to hold together Green Goblin Jr, Sandman, and Eric Foreman Venom. And these useless fuckers want to do six. Please.
Morbius was trash and I hope it disappears completely as nothing but a footnote on KnowYourMeme dot com.
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the meg? good, fun to watch, not scientifically accurate, realistic or probable
jurassic park? good, fun to watch, not scientifically accurate, realistic or probable
jurassic world? not scientifically accurate in the least, not realistic or probable
#jurassic world SUCKS#shitty plot. underdeveloped characters. ugly unrealistic 'dinosaurs.'#jurassic park is iconic and scientifically progressive for its time#jurassic world had that chance but instead of having cool and accurate feathered dinosaurs it had shitty hybrid monster things#only furthering the idea that dinosaurs are movie monsters meant to look scary for peoples' entertainment#i know it's stupid to get mad about but it just makes me so fucking angry#also mosasaurs aren't that fuckin big#also velociraptors had FEATHERS you COWARDS#also DINOSAURS AREN'T MONSTERS THEY WERE REAL ANIMALS JUST LIKE THE ANIMALS WE HAVE TODAY#sidenote if you think megalodon is alive today lmk so I can personally fistfight you#jurassic park#jurassic world#the meg#talking tom
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Dieter Stark - Moodboard 🦖
#The Lost World: Jurassic Park#Jurassic Park 2#Dieter Stark#moodboards#and y'all know when i say moodboard...#i mean aestheticboard#but moodboard is easier for me to read lmao#anyway i love this stupid bitch#what a fuckin' dumbass
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Jurassic Park/W40K crossover
Imma call it Parkhammer.
Hammond on the Golden Throne, as God-Emperor of Dinosaurkind, with the other human characters being Primarchs commanding legions of saurian troops. The human characters are the only humans left in the galaxy.
Alan Grant: Raised on a desert planet by scholars studying the bones of ancient monsters.
Ellie Sattler: Badass. Works with Alan Grant’s legion a lot.
Tim & Lex Murphy: The two of them to the one legion, like Alpharius and Omegon. Lex is great with technology and is the loyalist foil to Nedry.
Dodgson: Plays the story role of Lorgar (caused Nedry’s fall to Chaos and the ensuing Heresy)
Dennis Nedry: Exceptionally skilled, technologically. Was the first to fall to Chaos. Commands the Venom Spitters, a technologically advanced scout force.
Ian Malcolm: Was the easiest to persuade to fall to Chaos, he’d already been studying it for quite some time. Current Daemon Prince of Chaos Undivided.
Donald Gennaro: Fuckin ded lol
Robert Muldoon: Badass, died in battle against Chaos Raptors
That stupid, greedy businessman from JP2: Chaos, but not particularly good at it
That kid from JP3 who got stranded on the island: [REDACTED BY ORDER OF THE INQUISITION. WE DO NOT TALK ABOUT JURASSIC PARK III.]
(the kid’s a lost primarch)
Rexy: Equivalent to Ciaphas Cain (Hero Of The Imperium!)
An original photoshop I made a while ago that I recently found and that gave me this whole idea:
“Chaos, uh, Reigns.”
youtube
The theme (above)
#w40k#jurassic park#daemon prince#ian malcolm#crossover#parkhammer#ramblings#john hammond#eric kirby#alan grant#ellie sattler#dennis nedry#donald gennaro#robert muldoon#tim murphy#lex murphy#rexy#warhammer 40k
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Which hyperspecific dinosaur was your favourite ? Which God did you pretend being a servant of ?
Okay so. I watched Jurassic Park like. Gazillion amount of times. And Land Before Time. So my favorites were always Velociraptors and Dimorphodons (god i hope i spelled that right), bcs they were fuckin terrifying and i loved them :D
... Athena. I thought Paris was stupid af for not choosing her to give the apple, and that he deserved what he got 😌
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hi sara <3 ajshdfk sorry i'm like always late but i am sending you many virtual hugs. you happen to be the absolute sweetest and i am so grateful for you :) so how was your holiday weekend?? do anything fun???
NEVER EVER APOLOGIZE FOR ANYTHING YOU PERFECT CREATURE @worm800 I LOVE YOU SO MUCH YOU MAKE MY ENTIRE LIFE PRECIOUS MÁRI!🖤
my holiday weekend was actually very quiet! my daughter was with her dad for the week so it was just me, myself, and i which was nice but i missed my baby! i went and spent the holiday with my dad (don’t worry we wore masks and stayed far apart it was only myself and he and his wife very quiet and nice), and we got crossfaded and watched Jurassic Park and had fuckin food it was the best thing!
another proud mommy moment... my baby girl has two loose teeth and they happened on thanksgiving when i wasn’t present but her dad facetimed me and showed me her little baby teeth wiggling in her mouth and i sobbed my eyes out... guys why do kids grow up so fast i hate it! 🥺
i got all my xmas shopping done which i am SO happy about and now i can’t relax and watch the crazy people scramble during a pandemic to find stupid shit while i get drunk on my couch!
that’s honestly about it! i had a very boring weekend but it was a good weekend nonetheless! i hope you did too babe! i love you with all my soul!🖤😘
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Apparently they copyright struck the halo 1 master chief collection warthog skin that looked like the Jurassic park jeep and they had to change the colors slightly. Very stupid it's just the little insignificant things sometimes that makes you think what's the fuckin point of this dumb worthless economy
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im waiting for the day someone tells harry one of the 'dinosaurs cant do x because theyre dead' jokes and harry just goes. not on my watch. and then like the next day theres just. a fuckin. big ass stegosaurus. like, hes stupid enough to do it and smart enough to pull it off.
hermione, who has seen jurassic park: harry no
ron, who has also seen jurassic park: harry yes
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