Now, Rerun And Snoopy Are Perfect Too

In defense of Demeter (who seems constantly villainized in recent interpretations)

My tumblr in a nutshell

oh hey look guys its a bird its a plane its even more of my shit content 

I’m too obsessed with Persephone and Hades,,, I shouldn’t make it into a webcomic,,, haha ,, unless👀

She cried with a piercing voice,

                calling upon her father [Zeus], the son of Kronos, the highest and the best.

                But not one of the immortal ones, or of human mortals,

           heard her voice. Not even the olive trees which bear their splendid harvest.

I can barely contain myself right now

holy shit

HOLY SHIT

A song about Tumblr

come with me

and you’ll be

in a world

of sexual frustration

Anthony Fokker (b. 6 april 1890/ d. 23 december 1939) a.k.a. The Flying Dutchman. He was a Dutch aviation pioneer and skilled pilot. Sure, he might have been an unscrupulous businessman, but he did put in his two cents in aviation technology and designed planes flown by The Red Baron, Manfried von Richtofen (another worthy history crush!), himself. 

He accidentally called him “horse”.

Electra drives me insane she's really like. This family tree is rotten and so I am rotten but the rot will end with me. And yes the father that lives in my memory is a fantasy and a stranger to the man that really lived but he's dead and every memory of the dead is a fantasy. And yes my father did horrible things but he did those things because he had to, I have to believe he did them because he had to. And maybe if he had lived, he would have loved me and I am so starved of love that I will beg for it from the graves of dead men. Yes this woman gave birth to me and shaped me into the wretched form I am today. No she is not my mother. Yes I hate her. No I can't remember a time when she didn't hate me. Yes I am desperate for her to love me. No I would rather die than do something to earn her love. No I am nothing like her. Yes I look into the mirror and see my mother, and I hate her, so I hate me. Yes I believe my brother remembers and loves me and will come and save me. No I don't know what he looks like or if he's still alive. Yes I love my brother unconditionally. No I don't really know my brother. Yes I know my brother intrinsically because he is the other half of my soul. No I don't believe he's coming. Yes I love him anyway because I am destined to love men who leave me behind in this house. This house that has been built on the bones of my murdered family, killed by my family, and their blood has poisoned the roots. Yes this house is my home. Yes this house hates me, and what does it mean when your home is also your prison? Yes I want to leave this house. No I will never leave this house. Yes this house has always been haunted. I am the thing that is haunting this house.