THIS IS SO SAD - Blog Posts

see you space cowboy

boo-womp

I am ruthless, and callous, and vicious when it comes to defending my family.

hey y'all I have some sad new for y'all your favorite little rabbit clover had die over night . so yesterday I couldn't find clover she wasn't in her cage I look all over the house but couldn't find her until I thought maybe she outside some where and she couldn't gone that because she kinda lazy and then I see something in the road outside my house and I see a black dead rabbit that got run over by some car so you probably think it could be any old black rabbit that got run over but I know that was clover because I put like a little collar on her that say her so I knew that was clover

So that the end of the sad story about clover death I just want to say that she live a great beautiful bunny life 🥺✨

No fucking way... The post I made about fucking SQUID GAME got over 1000 notes

I'm killing myself

He lost focus and wanted a consensual workplace relationship

Rip Rosaline Frankenstein -this day 2018

Just a small comic with my two oc’s Charlotte and Jessie .

Aw hell nah they turned Hange into a witch 🗣️🗣️ (happy Halloween!!)

i think we as a fanbase moved on way too quickly from the fact that the first ghosts lockwood ever saw were his parents

the song came on my shuffle and would not leave me alone until i penned this i'm so sorry

Since 1.15 now released, I was looking through the Stardew Valley Expanded changelog hoping to find new updates and particularly any new marriageable NPC options. However, to my disappointment, I discovered that only Scarlet has been added as a marriageable candidate. Where are the other desired NPCs like Isaac, Alesia, Jadu or Camilla? It's quite disappointing to see they're still unavailable for marriage in the game. Damn it! •́ ‿ ,•̀

My heart? Gone

Did Pasiphaë Mourn the Minotaur?

He had a monster’s form, of course. The result of her husband’s hubris and the spite of Poseidon, yes, such a thing would never be beautiful.

Never be beautiful, perhaps, save in the eyes of his mother?

Did she feed him at her own breast? Did no wet nurse dare touch his twisted body? Was hers the only friendly touch he knew?

She named him Asterion, for a great king of the island of Crete

Her little star

Perhaps he had a little starry tuft of hair on his forehead, shining like the tail of the little bear Ursa Minor?

Maybe a scattering of white on a darker hide, as the vault of night where the gods hung their heroes and monsters.

Was he a monster then? Her little star?

Did she play with him in the courtyards of her husband’s palace? Did the children of relatives and servants flee in horror at her little boy?

Did he laugh? Did he cry? Did he play in the mud and skin his knee as all little boys do? Did he chase the dogs who lounged too long in the Mediterranean sun?

Did she see the disdainful glint in Minos’s eye as he spoke with his advisor Daedalus, the one who had humored her urges driven on by the machinations of the Earthshaker?

Did she know of what the men of Crete said of her son’s appetite? Was it even true? Was it a rumor planted by an embarrassed and furious step-father?

Did she know that the dancing paths her daughter had enjoyed would be buried and sealed to contain her son?

The day came when Asterion was to be locked away. Minos carried the words of a faraway prophet, the words of the gods. His bull, his Minotaur, had to be locked away for everyone’s safety. So said the gods.

And the gods were never to be disobeyed. Minos knew that all too well.

Did he struggle against his bonds when they dragged him to the buried dancing paths once made to delight Ariadne, doomed to a broken heart on a lonely isle? Did he roar? Did he cry? Did he yell for his mother to help him? He’d be good. He wouldn’t bother the dogs lounging in the sun, he’d eat politely at the dinner table. He’d make her proud. He’d make father proud. He’d be a good son.

Was Pasiphae struggling against bonds of her own as she watched her son disappear from the eyes of Helios, condemned to darkness for the rest of his days? Did her heart grow cold in the absence of her little star?

Did he call out for her in that winding maze? Did he plead to his mother, to Daedalus, to the gods, to anyone who would hear in that dark cavern? Did he know why he was cast from the sight of gods and men?

Did Pasiphae wretch at Minos’s plan to feed her little star? A way to solve two problems with one answer. Little Athens had been such a thorn in the side of great and mighty Crete, they needed to make up their wrongs with tribute. And Minos’s bull couldn’t simply be left to starve. Kinslaying, even monsters, was a dark and terrible act looked down upon by the gods. Minos knew not to disobey the gods.

A starving monster or a starving man, hunger makes all decisions so much simpler. Stone or flesh, only one route. Only one thing to eat.

Was Asterion a monster born or a monster made?

Did Pasiphae wail when brave Theseus emerged from the depths of the labyrinth, her son’s blood on his sword? Did she keep a brave face in front of her husband? After all, who would mourn a monster?

Did she follow that length of twine to her son’s broken body once all eyes had closed for the night? Did she hold her son’s cold hand as she sung a lullaby from so long ago, when he was just her little star? Did she kiss the little tuft of starlight that still adorned his bull’s brow?

Perhaps, in the grim hands of Thanatos, his broken body once more came into view of the lights of the heavens? Who need fear a corpse, even a monster’s corpse?

Did Pasiphae plead for a goodbye for her son? A way for him to leave the world of the living as the man he never was?

Did she, hands shaking, place two coins on his forever closed eyes to pay the ferryman Charon who carries souls across the river Styx?

Did she anoint his brutalized, gaunt, starved body in the perfumed oils that had graced the fallen bodies of his ancestors?

Did she hope against hope that perhaps in that cold realm of Hades and Persephone his soul might finally find rest?

Did Pasiphaë mourn Asterion

Her little star?

why is my biggest fan myself

Getting so mad at wii sports that doing literally anything else makes you angry if it doesn’t go perfectly

Remembering NASA astronaut Jim McDivitt (June 10, 1929 – October 13, 2022), who has died at the age of 93.

Jimbo was a USAF combat and test pilot before being selected as a NASA astronaut in 1962. He flew Gemini IV in 1965 with his best friend Ed White, becoming the first American astronaut to command his first spaceflight. In 1969, he was the commander of Apollo 9, the third manned mission of the Apollo program. Jim also served as the Apollo Spacecraft Program Manager until his retirement from NASA in 1972.

In addition to being a brilliant engineer and pilot, Jim was a husband, father, and friend. He brought his wit, kindness, and sense of humor to the astronaut corps and paved the way for future explorers. May his memory be a blessing. Ad astra, Jimbo 💙

even from a platonic standpoint(to me they were in love but everyone is allowed to think what they like (but they were in love(I swear))) Steve leaving Bucky, his best friend since childhood who he was always been there for and who is the only person with remotely the same life experience, for a girl he knew for like a year is so fucking depressing like he fully gave up on Bucky and that feels so out of character but it’s somehow canon????

david lynch died i can’t do this

The two wolves inside me are monster-of-the-week-seasons and Castiel Supernatural. Can’t mate, very tragic.

Ya Rabb, punish the wrongdoers with the most severe punishment both in this world and in the next 🤲🏻

’It’s really exciting to see his prison outfit because there are two shapes to it. One is very polished and almost lush, as if he’s wearing a very expensive dressing grown, and the other is when you see him at rock bottom and he has torn his clothes and his hair and his face. It’s an incarnation of his own self-hate and his own despair. He’s literally ripped at the fabric of his clothes and that was really exciting to do.’ - Tom Hiddleston