Watcha Doin'?

Connor x broken doll trend

Every time I remember that dramatic Minecraft comic someone cropped the bottom two panels from, I have to take a break to cackle at it

some more artwork I did yesterday during stream of my X reader AU

I have the hc that there's the three sides of moon (full, cresent, new) that show his mood/temper. He can be conflicted at times lmao

The second doodles is the 'pssp pssp pssp' scene from the third chapter of Solar Lunacy

based on the fic push as far as I can go by anonymous

I’m- I’m gonna go cry IM SORRY THATS MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT ALCHEMIST-/nm

Hah it’s funny because in my fic Varian gets stabbed in the heart

To be fair, he‘s revived, but it makes me tear up

OMG POOR VARIAN

Would it make you feel better if the person who stabbed him was mind controlled and didn’t have a choice?

no because the entity (?) mind controlling the person wants to hurt varian :(

based on the fic push as far as I can go by anonymous

I’m- I’m gonna go cry IM SORRY THATS MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT ALCHEMIST-/nm

Hah it’s funny because in my fic Varian gets stabbed in the heart

To be fair, he‘s revived, but it makes me tear up

OMG POOR VARIAN

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

holy shit you’re not wrong

I’d feel better about this whole rant if Olaf weren’t queer-coded. It might be largely the voice acting – the lisp, the inflection especially – but he’s got massive “harmless gay sidekick” vibes. And if you’re actively critiquing that? Sure, great, go all out. Hate whom you will. Say whatever you want about how “gay” is equated with “harmless silly sidekick used for comic relief, with no serious bearing on the plot, literally inhuman and treated by Serious Human Characters as… well,a sidekick, peripheral to your life and safe to ignore.

But if you’re not engaging critically with that aspect of his character and are just overwhelmed with hatred whenever you see or hear or think about the queer-coded character and his mannerisms make you feel violent, that is a little bit. Uncomfortable. At best.

what on God’s green earth are you talking about

See sometimes I wonder why I’m still on this website, and then posts like this come along. Amazing. 

me reading this post like

oh my god holy fuckign shit okay i had to hunt this post down to say that i had a brief dream about this post and basically someone said “2020 would’ve been better if olaf didn’t exist” and someone reblogged with “olaf (derogatory)” i am losing my MIND

$72.99

Never let this die

IT GOT BETTER SINCE I LAST SAW IT

I don’t think any piece of art has ever emotionally affected me the way this robot arm piece has affected me. It’s called “Can’t Help Myself” and it’s a robot arm that’s programmed to clean up the fluid that’s constantly leaking out of itself, that looked like a never ending flow of blood. It has programmed dance moves to make it appear to have human gestures. And at first, it seemed happy and proud of its job, dancing around when it had visitors. But three years later, it looks tired, hopeless, and like it’s living in a never ending cycle of constantly trying to put itself back together for the entertainment of other people. And when I found out that it had finally stopped working in 2019, essentially dying, I couldn’t help but imagine the relief it must’ve felt and so I’ve been in here crying over a robot arm. 🥺 It was programmed this way, it truly couldn’t help itself. And no one ever helped him, they just watched.

In this work commissioned for the Guggenheim Museum, Sun Yuan & Peng Yu employ an industrial robot, visual-recognition sensors, and software systems to examine our increasingly automated global reality, one in which territories are controlled mechanically and the relationship between people and machines is rapidly changing. Placed behind clear acrylic walls, their robot has one specific duty, to contain a viscous, deep-red liquid within a predetermined area. When the sensors detect that the fluid has strayed too far, the arm frenetically shovels it back into place, leaving smudges on the ground and splashes on the surrounding walls.

Sun Yuan & Peng Yu are known for using dark humor to address contentious topics, and the robot’s endless, repetitive dance presents an absurd, Sisyphean view of contemporary issues surrounding migration and sovereignty. However, the bloodstain-like marks that accumulate around it evoke the violence that results from surveilling and guarding border zones. Such visceral associations call attention to the consequences of authoritarianism guided by certain political agendas that seek to draw more borders between places and cultures and to the increasing use of technology to monitor our environment.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=ZS4Bpr2BgnE

you forgot the most important part: once the exhibit was unplugged, its name was changed to Couldnt Help Myself.

nothing happened to me, i happened

Even cannibalistic serial killer couples have domestic arguments

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