I would like to start an official movement to replace the prevalence of manpain in fiction with granpain.
A grandmother’s boyfriend is left dead in her apartment. She cradles the body tenderly. Her face hardens. SHE WILL GET HER REVENGE.
A grandmother stands on a roof, in a billowy leather coat. A single perfect tear trickles down her cheek — but when she turns around to confront her ten attackers, there is no trace of it.
“No,” says a grandmother, when her grandchildren attempt to dissuade her from her lonely path of vigilante justice, and turns her sad, noble profile to the side. “I work alone.”
GRANPAIN.
I smooshed together Trisha’s Breakdown and Terror adhaerens from the Madoka Magica OST… and it turned out really good
Shews did the great track art
IM FUCKING CRYINGGG
In 18 seconds, Darren Criss singlehandedly ruins acting, the English language, American Musical Theatre, Christina Aguilera’s discography, and my ability to ever again hold an erection.
