#Willy Park

[turquoisespace35]

Banshees' captain 34

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[tilbageidanmark]

Post-war Montmartre, by French photographer Willy Ronis.

[i4nmura]

(★) a fantástica fabrica de chocolate; sunghoon

♡︎ capa teste / don’t repost

✎ 11.09.24 | cr. @nishimurallery

[raihanghazy]

The Conductors

Different Worlds, United with trains

🚂🚋🚃🚋🚃🚋🚃

Also, i will be dropping all my WIP in my Patreon in the future to keep things tidy, so join my Patreon! https://www.patreon.com/Radociech and some exclusive artwork for joining membership

[niyana-the-ambiguous-mobian]

That Willy Wonka experience is quite the story of the week. I can’t imagine the looks on both the parents and kids faces when they went out to the place, paid their fee and saw all of this mess:

Apparently it wasn’t even in a museum or a community center, it was in a fucking warehouse.

This puts the Dashcon ball pit to shame…..

[alexis-royce]

Got the initial recordings from our composer, and the music for this game is sounding so groovy.

None of you all are ready for this, but Let's Watch Steamboat Willie at the end of the month anyway, okay? 😄

[atomic-chronoscaph]

Enchanted Forest amusement park, Maryland (1950s/1960s)

[connorricks]

JURASSIC PARK\\\WARHAMMER 40,000: CHAOS EFFECT

“We’ve been referring to them as ‘Aberrant Forms’ and I’m told that’s the only thing we should call them. Well, a small number of these, uhm, ‘aberrant forms’ have washed up on Costa Rica since the first incident. The Nublar one, I mean. We think. Now I’m told that they’re now manifes… ugh, washing up on San Diego as wel//01100100 01101001 01101110 01101111 01110011 01100001 01110101 01110010 01100101 01100001 01110100 01101101 01100001 01101110

[🧬👀🧬Tsk tsk. What he 𝔻oesn’t kn𝕆w is ever𝕐one w𝕆rking at the original park had dreams of dinosa𝕌rs escaping and killing 𝕋ℍem nearly every n𝕀ght. These ℕightmares grew jaws and claws and tore at the cage 𝕂eeping them on the other side. Tℍey had grown v𝔼ry hungry, ravenou𝕊. But they didn’t w𝔸nt to be fed. They wanted to h𝕌nt. When the Big One stℝ𝕌ck, they 𝕊aw their chance.🧬🩸🧬]

01100011 01101000 01100001 01101111 01110011 01110010 01110101 01101110 01110011 01110010 01100001 01101101 01110000 01100001 01101110 01110100\\specialist of some sort. From across the pond, Nepal I’m told? The big pond I mean. A specialist named Aleksi St. George. Hmn. I just hope he knows his stuff. Anyways, he’s on his way."

[cupiowaffles]

Drew this silly thing

[look-at-that-right-there]

Having a great time at the Glasgow Willy Wonka Experience.

[danganronpaisbest]

List of all my fandoms

[turquoisespace35]

Kiddos doodles

[harrisonarchive]

George at Kinfauns with his Aston Martin DB5 (photo by Henry Grossman); driving in 1965 (photo by Henry Grossman); with his Porsche in January 1979 (photo by Alan Giddins).

“We’d take a break [during Dark Horse recording sessions in 1974] to go for fish and chips, and there were two ways you could go. One was through this very winding road through the woods from Friar Park to the little fish place. And that’s the way we went. The first time, he took me in a Ferrari. Well, he really liked racing. I’m telling you, man, when we came back from getting our fish and chips, he drove through those winding roads as if he was on a racetrack. I mean really, really going for it. It was serious, and I’m holding on, thinking, ‘Wow, man, I sure hope we stay on the road because if we miss, we’re history.’ Well, we made it home in the Ferrari. The next time we went for fish and chips, he took a Porsche and he took the same route. The Porsche seemed to handle the road better, so he started speeding up. I just thought, ‘He’s such a fan of racing, I guess there’s this little racecar driver inside him.’ But then he really started going, and when we got into Friar Park we were really flying so fast that the car got away from him. There were these high hedges that lined the driveway to the garage, and we’re running through the hedges — and I just sat there acting as normal as I could, but I was praying, O Lord, please don’t let them read about us in the newspaper. Just get us back to the house. After he came out of the hedges, he shrugged and gave me a little laugh as though it never happened. I’m looking at George, and he just looks away like, Don’t say nothing. Well, we went into the house and neither of us ever said a word.” - Willie Weeks, Here Comes The Sun: The Spiritual and Musical Journey of George Harrison (2006)

“George offered to drive us [Gary and Chris Agajanian] to the airport [from Friar Park], which was quite a hair-raising experience — his version of driving in a Formula One car at the Grand Prix. I thought to myself, ‘We survived India with its tigers, cobras, and pythons, and now we’re ripping down the M4 motorway at a hundred and twenty miles an hour!’ Given the speed we were traveling, we were stopped by a policeman, and as George rolled the window down, the officer politely said, ‘Oh, Mr. Harrison, sorry, on your way then.’” - Gary Wright, Dream Weaver: Music, Meditation, And My Friendship With George Harrison (2014) (x)

[violentlycookingcartoons]

"The new South Park season looks shit. 💔"

Bonus:

The background I put too much effort in:

The concept drawing I did in my sketch book (sorry but my camera sucks ass so I had to put a filter on the image to at least make it more better to see):

[monthgirl]

Jurassic world x free willie

[viva-la-bohemia]

The Aftermath

“Come on, get up.”

Lark groaned and clasped the outstretched hand of g-man, his gun-buddy, the man he had done Fortnite dances with at prom while nick and marco laughed from the side Grant Wilson to pull himself up. He looked around slowly at his friends co-workers and made a mental note to take care of the definite concussion that he had. Grant was unloading and reloading his handgun, a nervous tick that had somehow become normalized over the years. TJ, the man who got drunk with him for the first time on the roof of DADDIES and took all the blame when darryl found them, the man that convinced him to be the Ryan to his Sharpay in bop to the top when they auditioned for mamma mia in high school Terry’s glasses were broken in both lenses somehow, and he was flexing his arm in the way that he had done ever since his elbow had gotten popped out of the socket, oh so many years ago.

Lark’s brother was sat on the stairs, twisting his ring and glaring at his shoelaces, for some reason, as if he wanted to ground them into next month. Lark couldn’t quite say he disagreed with the sentiment. The next time he saw his nephew, ooh boy. No more late night Uncle-Lark-Can’t-Sleep-And-You-Spend-Too-Much-Time-Hyperfixating-On-Random-Shit-So-We’re-Going-To-Get-Ice-Cream trips, that was for sure.

He was snapped out of his stewing by Grant lightly hitting him in the arm.

“What the hell even happened, man?”

Lark dragged a hand across his face. “Nick’s kid broke the glass on the Whale’s tank,” Sparrow and Terry’s heads both snapped to him. Lark winced. “And then I ran in, slipped, fell into the tank, and shattered it.”

Grant’s jaw was practically on the floor. “Holy shit dude, how are you even moving right now?”

Lark smirked. “Dunno, but what I do know is that I’m gonna kill that teenager.”

The walk to the parking lot was silent, none of them wanting to actually admit that they had gotten their asses handed to them by their own kids. Lark pushed the door open into the parking lot, sopping wet, sore, and pissed.

He locked onto the kids and opened his mouth, about to relish in the rare gift that was yelling obscenities and Sparrow not scolding him for it. However, his joy and anger vanished quickly and his mouth closed with an audible click.

From behind him, Lark vaguely heard Grant’s gun drop onto the pavement in surprise and Sparrow gasp out a “holy shit”. Then Terry let out an anguished sob and Lark thought that that about summed it up.

their captor, the mean one, the head purple robe, the one who forgot to feed them, the one that tried to kill their dads, the one that tried to kill “spare-ow” because having two backups was unnecessary, the one that gave him his first scar that even henry didn’t know about, ron’s deadbeat dad that tried to kill his own son, the one who killed a man in front of his nephew, the one manipulating terry’s daughter

Willy.

Willy Stampler was holding the headless body of the very sixteen-year-old that Lark had been planning to yell at until he was blue in the face. Like watching a train crash, he followed the trail of blood to Taylor Swift’s head at the feet of Scary Marlowe, who was gripping a net so tight that her knuckles were white. Her jeans were splattered with blood. She looked horrified, and mere seconds away from sobbing.

Normally Swallows-Oak-Garcia normie, norm, his nephew, his star, his kiddo, his ice cream partner, Teeny the Teen was shrieking nonsensically on the ground, his knees appearing to have given out entirely, and he pulled at his hair as tears streamed down his face.

Lincoln Li-Wilson link, his godson, the kid who he’d watched take his first steps, the kid who’d somehow gotten taller than him in the years that he’d been banned from the Li-Wilson household, in all of his six-foot-three glory, was glaring at Willy with an intensity that could’ve killed a man.

Lark wondered why he hadn’t jumped at the man already, and then saw the cause. He was supporting the small DC-obsessed kid, the one that had spent two months monologuing himself into identity crisis after identity crisis and also apparently had a crush on his nephew? who was leaning his entire body weight on the taller kid, face blank except for a few stray tears working their way down.

Willy looked bored. Taylor’s body thumped on the ground as he checked his watch. “Ugh. I really thought that this would be faster, huh kiddo? Guess some parents just don’t care.”

Scary Marlowe teresa, terry the third, terry jr jr, the emo one, mini-him, edgelord supreme, the one he somehow knew the least even though they had sat at the same table at the wedding squeaked.

Her fingers flew free from their fisted prisons and Lark could see both the indent of the netting and the bloody crescents from her nails etched into her palms.

The net dropped heavily onto Taylor’s head (Lark choked back the bile rising in his throat) and his stupid pork-pie hat tipped off and onto Scary’s shoes.

Normal had stopped shrieking and was full-on sobbing into the ground. And then Row, his better side, his beautiful half, his twin, his six-minutes-older brother, the man that had saved his life time over time, the man that had taken him in without a second thought when he realized that Lark was sleeping on the streets, Sparrow Oak-Garcia stepped forward. His foot caught on a loose piece of gravel and it skittered across the blacktop, catching the attention of everyone.

Lark managed to drag his eyes away from the decapitated child in front of him and lock them onto Sparrow as he addressed the children with what he hoped would be their saving grace.

“Would this be a bad time to say I told you so?”