#Laika is so fuckin cute

[sentientcave]

Was trying to do proper line art but did it on the same layer so uh, here have some Morgans (ft. Laika the dog and Tiny Soap)

#Dreaming of a day when I'm able to take a little sketch and turn it into real art lmao #cave sketches #OC: Morgan #Sparrowverse #Also maybe someday I'll draw consistent faces? Who knows #Laika is so fuckin cute #big buppy

[notmuchtoconceal]

"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.

[wreckham]

thots on missing link (spoilers!!!)

i didn't like a lot of stuff. i didn't like the character designs basically at all. i liked two designs - adelina and the yeti elder. every other living thing on screen was...... argh. idk what chris butler's illustrative art looks like, but smth tells me smth simple and cute was lost in translation from 2d to real object with these guys. hate the symmetry. hate the samey builds and proportions of some of the characters (lionel and the bad guy dude are way too similar imo). hate the teeny eyes set super close together.

i'm not a huge fan on how some scenes are very obviously more cgi then stop motion. not a fan of the two Dick Smashing jokes and one Shit Eating joke. the villains seem almost unneeded tbh, you coulda made up a more organic feeling antagonistic force if u had to. not into the ending, felt super anticlimactic and not weighty or enthralling enough, despite the ending imo being every other laika movie's strongest scene, or at least one of their strongest scenes.

i did like some stuff though! in fact, i liked a lot more stuff then it sounds like. i like that this movie's Obligatory Laika Twist was that susan didn't stay with "his people", he stayed with His People. i like mr. link's personality. i like the usual Clunky, Awkward, Dry Laika Humor. the animation was spicy as always. i LOVE "it was a nun, we mugged her" and the villain basically saying fuck. i LOVE LOVE "man talks of the magic of the world, but it is a prize. something to be claimed as proof of his worth" (laika said?? fuck?? colonialism??). i love the art direction regarding the environment. i laughed genuine laughs at a few jokes.

i also really like how the guy and girl don't get together becus the girl wants to do whats right for herself, i like the protag being a fucking asshole (no other laika protag has ever been as conceited and selfish as lionel frost), and i like susan acknowledging his name is female but keeping it becus of what it means to him. basically i like all the little details and character moments the best out of anything else in the script, becus tbh those are the most well rounded parts. these characters feel very much like you could tell more and more cryptid hunt stories with them and they’d bounce off of each other wonderfully. i think that’s butler’s strong point wrt writing: solid character dynamics and keeping character personalities consistent and varied.

i'm very on the fence about the tone. it's radically different from any other laika movie and i'm not sure what to make of it. it both does and doesn't look like a laika movie and that made me feel really weird tbh. an interesting change of pace, tho i can't say "interesting" is entirely either good or bad. there are some elements that are a bit “darker” i guess - sex and alcohol and guns n shit - and tbh it reminded me of the days when kids movies with g ratings had those LOL. serious moments felt a bit shoehorned in sometimes, but thankfully the really important scenes were just fine (laika said fuck colonialism?????????)

all in all, a very okay movie. probably the laika movie i am least attached to, but i'm glad i actually saw it and i'm glad it exceeded my expectations, which were admittedly super fuckin low. it's not a fabulous movie, but it isn't garbage and Laika Said Fuck Colonialism so i think next time i'll trust them a little more even if their character designs fuck me up. frankly i think that was what got me the most tilted, becus for all intents and purposes this IS a laika movie that shares a lot of elements with a lot of other laika movies (the writing is very similar to paranorman’s aside from the lame ending) just a very different genre. there’s no other laika movie quite like it, and that is both bad and good in different ways

so like. holy SHIT

#missing link #laika #stop motion #laika talk #beck yammers #The Dog From Missing Link #he has his own tag now i CANT get over how bad he looks

[raideo]

Like, Cosmo was a gremlin and was a pain in the ass sometimes but I loved him, he was probably the most curious and maybe intelligent?? Of my fish. Idk- you could just tell he had wheels turning in his head. He loved staring at me intensely and it was very cute. Sometimes I would lay on the floor by his tank and he’d get down on the sand in the corner closest to me just to watch me watch him 😌

Flynn- I only had for a short time unfortunately, and he was very scared of me for a lot of it, so it was hard to get a read on him. He seemed very curious about his environment as well and loved to play in the bubbles from his filter.

Reaps was a great betta but would sometimes be hard to feed cuz he got distracted a lot. He loved his floating lotus flower that I got him and it was pretty much the cutest fucking thing on earth. He wasn’t super interactive but he was absolutely beautiful! Jet black with rainbow my iridescence on his scales. I loved him ;;

Andy was very sweet but had spine problems and very heavy fins due to being a doubletail, and this weird quirk where if he was super aggressive about food would launch himself at it and if he missed it too many times in a row he’d get pissed off and shoot down to the bottom of the tank and sulk????? It was kind of funny but also not, and really frustrating and I think he expended a lot of energy doing this and possibly caused himself injury on a few occasions. He loved watching me go about my human stuff at my desk though, and more than once I’d catch him looking over my shoulder at what I was doing 😌

Bugsy was a rescue from my old job because we had tried treating him for like a month for what we thought was a bacterial infection causing popeye, when he didn’t get better I advocated that he be returned to the floor because it was likely a birth defect and adopting him out was better than euthanasia. The first family to pick him up was clearly not interested in taking care of him like a pet and seemed to just want to get him to shut their kids up, like he was a toy they could give their toddler. They decided not to get him but that spooked me cuz I’d gotten so attached to him, being that I made a point to give him the extra care he needed while he was in treatment. I bought him because I wanted to give him a better life than being a throwaway toy for someone’s kid. He has always had that gross looking big eye, but he’s been the sweetest boy I’ve ever had- he doesn’t beg for food, but he comes up to see me every time I come over to the tank or open the lid. He’s been much healthier overall than Andy (Bugs is a doubletail too- even though I swore off ever getting a doubletail again) and much more alert and active and he’s always very patient with me while I’m feeding him (as long as I’m patient with him! Cuz he likes to chew each of his pellets for a few seconds before going for the next one 😂😭) Hes my sweet boy and I love him.

Laika on the other hand is the WORST BOY I’ve ever had (but it’s hilarious and I love him too) he launches out of the water at me every time I try to feed him (even one time biting my finger and actually hanging from it for a second!!!! I mean it doesn’t hurt but still 😂 chill the fuck out bud) and i have to point to his pellets aggressively or he’ll ignore them in his unending attempt to kick my ass to smithereens. -slaps the hood of my fish- this tiny boy can fit so much rage in him. He seems to be doing pretty well other than the occasional fin nipping and he’s probably the least genetically fucked up betta I’ve had. He’s really shown me how energetic and fuckin off the rails bettas can be when they aren’t weighted down my super heavy fins.

#my pets #i just feel like i need to talk about my fish more #and how they all had very distinct personalities #my fish #cosmo #flynn #reaps #andy #bugsy #laika #betta fish

[ultxmately]

Things I want to see in Season 5

- Lance and Keith hugging!!

- Just more group hugs in general honestly

- More sarcastic Hunk! He’s not just an innocent bean, we’ve seen that he can be sarcastic! More please!

- More Pidge and Matt sibling dynamic, Dreamworks created such a good relationship between them and I can’t wait to see more of it

- Matt and Allura getting together because honestly that would be the shit?? Plus Allura is already like a big sister for Pidge so this makes it like ten times better

- Honestly I want to see more of Pidge’s room, it was super messy and cute. Did she clean up? Has she added more pictures?? I’m intrigued

- I want to see Lance and Matt be best buds so bad. I mean Dreamworks already put them in this dumb love triangle so it prolly won’t happen but.. I can dream

- Lance. Character. Arc. Please.

- Give me more background of Lance’s family. A flashback perhaps?

- the paladins find out that their Shiro is a clone (Lance: *under his breath* fuckin knew it)

- More Lance and Keith comforting! More bonding moments!

- “Ok… maybe I remember the bonding moment…”

- Lance showing more leadership skills and just overall being there for his team members

- duel wielding pistols Lance oh my god please

- Keith fighting with his Galra knife in its sword form

- Duel wielding Keith with said sword and his Bayard

- the return of Slav and Laika

There’s more but my family is making me watching something called the Soup Bowl

Feel free to add on!

#voltron s5 #vld s5 #voltron season 5 #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender #bi and bored

[0poole]

Man, Netflix is a godly invention

Seriously. Once my generation takes over, the only TVs will exist in restaurants. Once subscription on-demand services take over (assuming they haven’t already) then cable TV will be done for. Literally the only benefit of cable is that, if you’re punctual enough, and have enough free time, you can “technically” watch whatever you want. On the other hand, you could pay less to access a slightly more limited (when it comes to new stuff) catalogue of shows to watch whenever or wherever you want. Obviously, though, you can’t always find the old stuff you’ve never seen before on cable. That’s what this stuff is good for. 

I’ve watched so many great movies that I’ve definitely heard of time and time again, but either never watched, or watched so long ago that I don’t actually remember any of it. Basically, since I have nothing else to do, I’m just gonna talk about the old stuff I’ve watched so far.

Lilo & Stitch: Just finished this one, and it’s the one that made me want to talk about this. OH MY GOD Lilo deserves so many hugs. It was almost bizarre, like this character that, to me, has only existed in merchandise is now... actually... moving? How peculiar, it had feelings all along! 

Seriously, though. I thought I saw this movie once, but it really didn’t feel like I did. I definitely had McDonalds toys of discount Wazowski once, but I don’t really remember anything from the movie. It was surprisingly real. I can definitely see how people can appreciate Nani for being the most real and respectable character in all of animation (and also for being sexy despite not having a beautiful™ face). 

Also, aliens. When are aliens ever bad? I say, only when they’re mindless, killing lizards (excluding el Xenomorph, I can still like him (still need to see his movie tho)). But, I can always love the classic, bulbous alien designs ala. retro sci-fi. My god, they animated discount Wazowski so well... He looked so boneless and floppy. Not to mention Jumbo being so soft and squishy looking. Stitch himself is such an icon that it’s hard to see him as anything other than Stitch, if you know what I mean. 

Anyways, the only Lilo and Stitch derivative I remember was what I remember as a sort of monster-of-the-week series where they had to go around capturing and cataloging the other experiments. It definitely seems like a fitting idea, but of course I really don’t remember any of it. I do remember the yellow stitch-like guy who had a very normal-guy voice and had a thing for sandwiches, though. He was like the comical sidekick to the main baddy.

Bolt: The movie I definitely remember the most of, but wanted to watch again anyways, because I definitely remember liking it. Most of my movie re-watchings are just to solidify my memories of these movies in my current mind, because my past self seriously had a habit of living in the moment so much that I just didn’t bother to remember what I just experienced. 

Anyways, I’m just gonna be honest... I’m not a dog person... but when a dog makes a cute girl happy, I’m happy. Also, I have a habit of never crying at the sad parts, and always at the happy resolutions to the sad parts. Oh my god, I remembered the ending, but I still cried my eyes out. The superbark may not actually be super, but it’s super to him, dammit! Seriously, though. Emotions are always at stake when kids movies get real. That was a real fire, and a real risk of death, and he saved the girl. 

Also, why are so many cute girls named Penny? In animations, that is. Not that... no, not happening. 

I honestly can’t remember any other cute Penny’s (apart from my own Penny) but for some reason that name is eternally one of the cutest girl names out there.

Looking it up though, I can see why. There’s the main girl from the Proud Family (never watched it), the girl sidekick from the Inspector Gadget cartoon (never watched it), and the girl from the Peabody and Sherman movie (watched it and enjoyed it. She was almost a human sacrifice tho). All cute girls.

Atlantis: One of those too-good-for-its-own-good movies. It was seriously cool, but got a criminally low amount of attention. 

Really, the movie stands on visuals alone. The scene with Kida walking across the water to the giant floating carvings of past kings... That was some seriously amazing animation. Then, when she was walking back to shore with an invisible forcefield around her, which you could only see because of the water splashing off of it... That was amazing. 

I’m 0 for 2 in mentioning cute girls so far, so let’s keep going. Kida’s a big one I’ve seen around in, well, art... Meanwhile, Audrey was right there! How come I haven’t seen this chick anywhere? Did Kida steal her spotlight? I’ll tell ya, ancient technology as a whole is totally my style, but Kida herself isn’t pushing any buttons. But, a sun-kissed girl with bushy hair in overalls is my weakness.

Road to El Dorado: Okay, I actually can’t avoid talking about cute girls in this one. Chel is actually criminally sexy. This level of sexiness should be illegal. I’ve already drawn her. I can’t get enough.

You know, sometimes, when I draw or mention cute/sexy girls, I always have a thought in the back of my head: God, some people are gonna think I’m a creep because of this...

No fuckin shame here dog. She LITERALLY FUCKS ONE OF THE MAIN CHARACTERS TO GET HER WAY. Sexy is one of her character traits, and the designers, animators, writers... they know it. How is this a kid’s movie? 

Anyways, the movie... I’ll be honest, I only remembered to watch this one because of the “Both? Both? Both is good.” meme. Being a part of the “artists who draw cute girls” circle, I can’t avoid that meme. Whenever someone says “Boobs or butts?” I see it. Whenever I see “Which of these cute girls should I draw?” I see it. Seriously, that gif has probably been posted more times than the number of people who actually went to see this movie. Then, there’s the gif of Chel bumping her armadillo pal with her hips... Like, come on. She’s hardly even wearing pants. You can’t do this to me.

I did actually enjoy the movie though. I definitely think the concept of “normal people visit ancient society and are believed to be Gods” has a lot of potential in it, and I love the idea that the king of El Dorado doesn’t actually think they’re Gods, and is just playing along pretty much... That’s really fun. I definitely prefer it to the wholly ignorant, possibly also stupid primitives that are 100% sure that the person is their God. It makes a nice dynamic. 

The Emperor's New Groove: Come on, what else is there to say? It’s the the-teacher-is-letting-us-watch-a-movie-on-the-last-day-of-school classic. It’s hilarious. It’s fun. It’s got the heckin PACHA MEME BROOOS AMIRITE FELLOW INTERNETERS?

I love the nonsense humor in the movie. I LOVE it. I love it when movies don’t take themselves seriously. It’s the time of the Aztecs, and yet they (didn’t) order a giant trampoline. Rollercoasters. Boy scouts. For some movies, it’s lame, but this one was probably the originator of the idea. Oh my god, the cut outs to Kuzco’s narration? I love it. I love it all.

Cute girls? Uhhh... I mean, Pacha’s daughter was pretty cute, but not the soul-wrenching kinda cute. What about ol’ Vexus? God, I rarely look up voice actors, but Eartha Kitt kills it both as Yzma and as Vexus. It’s the absolute perfect evil voice. It matches the stereotypical “evil” people know, but toys with it the perfect amount to make it super fun. Also, whenever I can relate something back to MLaaTR I’m happy. Cute girls, and all...

Song of the Sea: cute cute cute cute Cute CUTE CUTE. 

This is why I watch all movies with subtitles whenever I can. What’s the name of that adorable little girl? Surf-shuh? Shur-suh? It’s Saoirse. I’m honestly surprised I remembered how to spell it. 

Remember when I said I cry at happy resolutions? Well, I ALSO cry at scenes that are so impossibly pure, wholesome, and/or cute that it just pours out of my eyes. An example being Colette’s song in the Les Miserables movie. Gets me every time... Anyways, watch the movie, but also spoilers-that-aren’t-spoilers-because-it-was-obviously-going-to-happen: She gets her voice back, and hoooo boy... I nearly died from dehydration. Not much more can be said without actual spoilers...

Aside from the overflowing levels of cuteness in this movie (there are seals btw), I’d die for the mythical elements in this movie. It scratched every itch that The Book of Kells missed. Watched that one on Netflix too, but the ending was so... Bible-ish that I had a hard time feeling satisfied. Obviously it’s for a good reason, since, you know... It’s about the Book of Kells... But for a movie it wasn’t satisfying.

The animation couldn’t possibly fit the subject matter more, though. It has such a stylized stain-glass painting vibe to it. Isn’t there also another one by these guys coming out soon about a wolf girl? I’ll watch the hell out of that one when it comes out. It’s like Laika, but 2D. You watch it just for the animation, if not for anything else.

Monsters vs Aliens: Again, we’ve got aliens. Also, the birth of the giantess fetish, probably. Seriously, though... how did that dress hold up in that first scene? I’m just sayin

If I’m into retro-sci-fi aliens, then I have to also be in classic retro horror trope references. I should really watch the actual The Fly some time. It’s a creepy idea that I really want to indulge in.

I mean, that’s it for that movie. But, the original BLOB? Holy shit, I wanted to watch that movie just to make fun of it, and turns out the theme song did that for me. Hey, this giant alien monster is swallowing up Earth, what kind of a theme should we give it? Jazz with a touch of Surfer? Sure, why not. I love it. I’m a sucker for slimes, and I swear, if I ever manage to write a story about one of my slime characters, I will make a blood pact to reference that song in the story at some point. It’s so good.

Mune, Guardian of the Moon: I don’t usually rewatch movies, but I’m feeling like watching this one again.

Also, I spilled out my guts on this one a long time ago when I first watched it, and I loved it so much I posted it to Tumblr AND Facebook. Since my Tumblr got deleted, I’ll just link to the Facebook post, so I can give it the full respect it deserves: https://www.facebook.com/0poole/posts/967898463366639

Don’t even think about friending me there, though. Facebook is reserved for family matters only. No pesky tumblrs allowed!

There are also a good few I still need to watch. I’d put them in a different post, but since this blog is really just for me to rant, I’ll just keep going:

Shrek: I mean, I know how it starts for sure. Kinda... hard to forget, ya know? Yeah, “forget.” That’s the word. I really just need a refresher on this one. 

Astro Boy: Hey, what? There’s an Astro Boy movie? Well, if I’m ever going to understand this franchise, It’ll definitely have to be in movie form. I like MLaaTR and to a lesser extent Robotboy, so why not?

The Prince of Egypt: Remember when I knocked Bible-ish movies? Well, apparently it’s not a problem for this one. It’s clearly has great animation, so why not? 

Escape from Planet Earth: I forgot this existed. Everyone did. I saw a trailer for it ages ago, and that’s only how I know it. It’s got aliens, so why not? I remember seeing that Planet 51 was on Netflix too. It’s exactly the same movie but on the other side. I also remember there being an overt penis joke in that one, so...

The Guardian Brothers: What even is this? I don’t know. It’s animation, and not one of those cheap kids shows, so let’s do it.

April and the Extraordinary World: Also don’t really know what this is. It’s 2D animation, and therefore instantly puts it a step above 3D movies in instant interest.

Phantom Boy: I watched A Cat in Paris, and at least didn’t hate the artstyle. It’s a strange look, but unique, so I want to see more.

Look Who’s Back: A story about Hitler being revived in modern times. What could go wrong? Apparently something intriguing enough for people to review this movie well. Or, at least, well enough...

Gnome Alone: Technically these movies aren’t supposed to be Netflix Originals, but, you know... I see cute girl, I click. Looks kinda lame tho

Leap!: I heard that this is a movie with a generic plot, so I kinda left it out of sight. But, might I remind you... I see cute girl, I click. This’ll be my last resort if I’ve exhausted all other cute girl supplies. She is seriously adorable, though.

The Emoji Movie: haha jk we have fun here

There are way too many movies on Netlfix, so there’s obviously more than that. And, that’s not even counting the series... Might separate that into a different post tho

Also, Neflix, my boy... Can we talk about these synopsises of all these great movies? They make each and every one sound like the most generic, pandering bullshit you can think of. Also, I hate how the thumbnails change for some of the movies/shows. To an outsider, it makes it impossible to discern who’s the main character and who’s the bad guy if you don’t already know the content. People make title cards for a reason, you know!

#netflix #rant #rambling #poole #opinions #movies