Fruitpunchsamurai16 - Untitled

Crowley using a crank handle to operate the universe ❤

God I fucking hate Olaf the snowman so fucking much holy shit. Holy shit, every frame he's in, every scene, every gif, every jpeg, he's got this painfully vacant, stupid as shit, fuckass look on his stupid lumpy face. Absolutely no part of his ugly as sin piece of shit character design is endearing. His stupid fucking legs? Who the hell makes a snowman with legs. His dumb flaily fucking twig arms? His shitty, lumpy bastard head? The three thousand percent unnecessary dumbass shitass fucking SNOW BUCK TOOTH that no snowman has EVER FUCKING HAD IN tHE HISTORY OF GOD'S GREEN FUCKING EARTH? God, I hate him. I hate him so much. So FUCKING much. Every time I see a stuffed toy Olaf or an Olaf gif or a shitty goddamn commercial, it ignites my primal rage response and I'm overcome by the need to punt this shitty little homunculus into the fucking sun. "Bhurr blur, I'm Olaf the fuckshit snow fucker, I like warm hugs". Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. You look like Tow Mater summoned a patronus. Your dumb fucking twig hair makes your whole shitty head look like a hairy skin tag. I hate your dumb fucking lumpy carrot nose and your stupid, empty googly eyes and your over-the-top goofy ass upbeat asshole personality. Any scene he's sad it invokes all the wrath and fury of a spoiled child having a meltdown over a chocolate bar in a w*lmart checkout line. And I know its irrational. That's the worst part. I know he's just a shitty fucking side character in a stupid fucking children's movie, I know it doesn't matter, I know I shouldn't care. But that's part of the problem. The part where no matter the might and fury of my hatred, the locus of my homicidal intent is alltogether inconsequential. I find myself laying awake in the dark in the early hours of the morning consumed by the spirit of Wrath itself, all the force and might of a flaming hurricane directed at a bottle of piss in a ditch by the highway. The absurdity of it all burns me to my core. What better things could this energy be directed towards? And yet my disdain for this stupid, useless, insubstantial failure of endearing character design utterly eclipses the intrigue of all other pursuits. I hate him. I hate him on a level of my mind reserved for the worst of the world's array of sinners, and I can't even begin to justify it. Shitstick the snow dick is, for all intents and purposes, the animated corpse of all of humanity's saccharine pretenses- every condescending, passive-aggressive statement of meaningless upper middle class suburban drama distilled into a single, hateable form. The fucking. Fuck. I have no words. There is no cuss or epithet in any language that can encapsulate the height of the emotions I am experiencing. God, I hate him so much. I hate him so, so fucking much. I want to light his ugly little dumpster body on fire. I want to graphically beat him to death with his own stupid fucking nose. I want to punch him to death. You know that weird feeling you get, when you see a picture of something so cute you find yourself overcome with the bizarre, inexplicable urge to squeeze it? It's EXACTLY like that, except instead of cuteness it's disgust. The wordless knowledge that his existence as a fictional work is evidence of all the failures of mankind. I find myself possessed by the will of a Holy Angel gone rogue with the belief that God has made a mistake, and I alone must correct it. This is the trial by which Samael himself fell from grace. This wild, meaningless rage. A thousand blades of shining steel cast with inhuman force in the direction of a plastic grocery bag floating on a breeze. What horrors must I have committed in a past life to be plagued by this torment now? I must Unmake this fictional snowman

Oh man when Kaladin and Syl are dancing and I realise I started the Way of Kings as a depressed 12 year old 12 years ago and now me and Kaladin have both grown together and he's been there through all of it and now I'm crying because yeah I deserve to be happy too

Markiplier, dressed as Miguel O'Hara, was running laps around our house, to which my mother reacted with a terrified scream.

reblog to send three ghosts after elon musk

Another First Meeting

(Pierro is not Kaeya's bio dad/Fatui Adopt Kaeya AU) In which Dottore is pissed off with his other segments so he decided to piss them off by befriending a child.

Kaeya is just confused he stole the notes but ends up having it explained in depth by the person he stole it from

Gintama’s really got something for everyone.

The anime’s funny and has this energy to it that you can tell everyone involved was having a great time. It’s a wonderful ensemble comedy that genuinely makes me laugh out loud.

The serious arcs are hype as heck, the fights are brutal and well choreographed. And they exist to magnify the emotional beats, so they feel like they have narrative weight. It matters how a fight goes down.

It’s a very good political drama. From the beginning you can tell that something shifty is going on, and each group is more or less its own political faction. The plotting is tight and it’s easy to follow what each faction wants and why.

And it has really a great philosophical message. It has something to say, and that message is bigger than all the individual moments of self reflection from the cast. The narrative feels subtly woven together to make that greater message.

And it’s anime comfort food. It’s found family. It’s learning to live and make connections to other people even though it’s hard.

It’s a series that’s big enough that you could live in it.

Oh my fucking god I forgot to stay silly