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Tumblr Tuesday: Moo Deng, Queen of Our Hearts

Moo Deng, bouncy pork, literal baby girl. The knee chomp, the bath aversion, the belly rolls, the cheek scritches, the sleepy snot bubble, the exasperated scream—she has it all. Moo Deng, we love you.

@polarmary:

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@thwipped:

@marissasketch:

@rabbit1225:

@batwynn:

@seasneeze:

@artbyjasonleung:

@clurzo:

@projectniko:

@vilicoco:

@anxiette:

@celesse:

@fluffysheeps:

@tofupixel:

@pancake-fluffz:

@alexplantewpg:

@beepophobia:

@jeeklaart:

@eiririnn:

@kollapsar:

@twinkskeletons:

@oddarette:

@kentrl-z:

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cuntrix

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Juke and Remmick's Dublin Dance concept art by Nikkolas Smith.

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Art of Ms Pearline

Credits

bazahabinga Doodlesnoff/Pretzel-blitz Javere Irie Trevor Carlee CBSYLL/ Nikkolas Smith Aiden Lucky Ridartword/Artbytreasa Ryp3004 Gayassdbz Rosenkranz-does-things

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yellowjackets / landscape of fruit rot and millipede

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consumed by devotion. devoted to consumption.

prints + merch + commission info pinned to profile :)

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can anyone tell me the watch order for every movie ever so i can understand all references and homages

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Hobie 🎸

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if I were Rick, I would make Nyx the ultimate supreme villain of the whole series in the form of a schemer.

As in. What if she was the one who spurred Kronos' and Gaea's wants to rise? What if she was the one who whispered into Luke's ears whilst simultaneously getting rid of whoever could've acted as his anchor. She pushed him towards Kronos' side. She chose him for the prophecy. What if she was the one who woke Gaea up from her slumber deep in Tartarus. They're sisters I think? Like. Anna-styled "Hey do you wanna wreak havoc on mankind?" and just send her on her way whilst Nyx herself watched in amusement from Tartarus. What if it was she who chained the Doors of Death? What if she was the one who captured Thanatos, which should be a piece of cake bc he's her child? What if Octavian did not her Gaea's words, but Nyx whispering to him in his dreams, driving him to sanity. What if she was the one who manipulated the darkness inside the Emperrors and whispered to them "It's time to rise". What if Zeus didn't mean to punish Apollo but the very woman he was scared of just descended and lowkey threatened him "The upstairs have been badly behaving lately" so he felt the need to put on a show in hopes that Nyx would just let off. Which she didn't. Because Nico came into the picture, and it was only then did they realize - the fight had not ended.

And all of this was just because she felt bored, and thought "Hey it might be fun watching the demigods squirm. It has been so long since the last hero of Ancient Times."

Why, you ask? Because a foe is much, much more scary when their purposes are unknown and thus you're left fighting something that might be so mundane, empty, meaningless, but as it came from an omnipotent, omniscient being, it's suddenly you who can't find your way out of an endless web.

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Hey, I just wanted to say I love the snippets of the Roman Prequels! Could you post the very first paragraph or page, if it's not too much trouble?

uhhhhh yeah this is long 

(warnings: blood, murder, self harm, extremely vague allusions to sexual assault )

Reyna lifted her eyes. It was blurry, but she could see the outlines of the flames.

Circe’s island has fallen.

Her sister was screaming. There was a sickening crack and the screaming stopped. Reyna closed her eyes again. She smelled him before he even laid a hand on her.

Blackbeard was a massive man, his skin red and flaky from the sun. His teeth nearly rotted all the way through. He lifted her head up, forcing her to look in his eyes. One was yellow and milky, the other bright blue and shining with bloodlust.

“Come on, princess.” He crooned. “Give us a smile, then.”

Reyna was not a princess.

She spat right in his face, right in that disgusting yellow eye.

The pirate cursed, quickly dropping Reyna to her knees.

He kicked her in the head, and everything went black.

-

Her sister was their favorite. Reyna was too hostile. Would bite their fingers and scream into the night until her throat went sore. It’s not that her sister didn’t fight back. No, the pirates had black eyes and missing teeth from Hylla’s blows. She even managed to break one of their arms, the bone snapping in a beautiful way.

No, Hylla was the favorite because she talked to them. Used the same crass language. Jeered at their crass jokes.

Blackbeard would position her on his lap, and she would tell him about how she would slit their throats and bath in their blood. They laughed. 

Hylla was rail thin now. The magic of Circe’s island slowly seeping out of her. Her curly black hair was a knotted mess, her brown skin marred in bruises and cuts. Stood tall. No matter what they did to her.

Her sister had never been like this before. 

They would give Hylla knives. When she lunged at their throats, they would laugh. But they never stopped giving her knives. And she never stopped trying to kill them. Her eyes were charged with something that had missing from her on the island. Pure rage.

But it was now the 50th day. Reyna knew because she had been scratching into her thigh every time the sky grew dark. 50 marks up and down her legs. A speck of blood would peek through her dark skin, get stuck under the nail as she pulled more skin from her body. Usually the blood would fill her with a weariness. Wanting to retreat to when her skin was unblemished, Circe’s magic clouding her senses. Easing her pain. 

Absolutely nothing eased her pain now.

She took in everything the way it was. Her chains to the deck would allow her to move about a foot in and direction. But would keep her in place. Her maiden’s linens were dirtied and bloodied and her feet bare.

The pirates surrounded her but they had learned early to not mess with her.

All but one.

He was a skinny man, his white skin red and blotchy. He had a mouth full of gold and full of nothing but hatred for Reyna. His backhands would snap her head in the direction of the blow.

But it was the last attack, a small cut from his cutlass that did Reyna in.

She fell into the floor, the blood from her arm burning hot as she floated into that infinite space. She thought she was passing out but this…this was different from her usual unconscious. Her heartbeat pumped, filling her ears with a drowning sound. She couldn’t breathe. Her eyes were screwed shut. But she could see everything. She could feel the heat from everything, the smell, gods even the taste. She felt all the anger rise from her. Rise from her sister. Rise from the handmaidens that lay on the lagoons of Circes Island. Eyes dead but hearts still pumping with fury. 

She saw herself. A loose collection of atoms and magic, wielding the cutlass like she was born to. 

When had she gotten up? When had she gotten free of her chains? When had she taken his sword?

It didn’t matter.

She jammed the pirate’s sword down his throat. The blood coated her face in the gush. But she kept going. She beheaded another; his arm thrown back to swing at her. His body went limp in a second, falling to the ground his head. She grabbed his sword as well, doubly wielding in a way that felt both foreign and comforting. Reyna could feel her grasps on the swords slip due to the blood. She held fast.

She kept her eyes screwed tight and held on.

She couldn’t see her sister, only her own spectral body in this strange limbo. Doused in warm blood, her skin glowing from the inside out.

Child.

It had been a long time since she had heard that voice.

Firm, demanding.

Her mother.

Slaughter them all.

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Thats just it okay. Jason finds Reyna. He finds her amongst piles of dead pirates coated in blood and he reaches out for her hand. And he keeps finding her, keeps bringing her back from the place her mind goes when she thinks about her father, thinks about the pirates. He finds her in her bunk, wrapped up in blankets and memories. He finds her in the temple of bellona, sobbing as blood runs from her open wounds, trying to communicate with a mother who only answers to blood. He finds her, knife to a throat of a traitor, her eyes red.

And he brings her back. He drags her out of bed and to muster. He patches her up in the infirmary. He takes the blade from her hand, taking her burden with him.

He sees her over and over again in her worst state. Her new lowest point in life. But he never leaves.

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when a ship involves one character being so utterly devoted to the other that its borderline religious????? when the devoted character is written to be seen as a sinner, or damned, or a non believer??? and the other character an angel or god-like???? i simply eat that shit UP how can you not??

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Ophelia - John William Waterhouse

》Honey I love you, that's all she wrote

Oh, Ophelia, you've been on my mind girl like a drug

Oh, Ophelia, heaven help a fool who falls in love

Oh, Ophelia, you've been on my mind girl since the flood

Oh, Ophelia, heaven help a fool who falls in love《

Ophelia, The Lumineers

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my humble proposal for a dark academic life

warning! consider this satire…

cults, cults, cults,… or shall we call it a secret society? 

Discuss the books and poetry you’ve written and review it: you all know you’re the beginning flares of the newest literary movement, although your manifesto still needs work. By studying the greats like Ginsberg, Yeats, Whithman, Plath and Pound you hope to achieve greatness. 

You all choose upon yourself to study the great ancient languages, Greek and Latin. Now, when passing each other in the hallways, one simple word in Latin can do the trick. 

Select meeting spots across the university town that are given out the night before in written out letters on your doorstep. Will it be the run down pub or the hallways of an art museum? 

You worship the moon and celebrate death and renewal. You are creating your own beliefs and your system, and a book to hold on to. A self-liberation. A strict moral code to follow (or a lack thereof).

Clean and clear use of language. Language is art, art should be pure. 

Frequent practitioners of transcendental meditation and other methods to unlock parts of your conciousness. 

The objectives

understand life from all different perspectives and aspects. indulge in all it has to offer (visuals, art, music, language, writings, pain, science, philosophy, thoughts and conception, creation)

to avoid useless distractions, overflow and meaningles interactions.

feelings and thoughts aren’t in battle as they are equals. 

self comes first, in consideration of others.

everything should be experienced to gain full understanding: but not everything can be understood. 

lifestyle

a very essential aspect is to live a double life: why should you be limited to being one person? if you decide to embark on this, it is most essential to seperate your duality from others. 

read and create. next to taking in all sorts of art and literature you should make your own. interpret and revolutionize.  create art, anything that is meaningful to you and you have created, is art.

criticize and analyze everything and everyone. don’t let anything be at it’s mercy. dissect it, and don’t fear discovery (of others and of self). 

take profound interest in a subject. obsess, even to the point of unhealthiness. stay up reading all night, using coffee the next day to keep you half-awake. you don’t need much physical energy anyways. write essays to the point of fainting.  

don’t abstain from drugs & alcohol (and the like). smoke in the misty mornings or dark evenings, smoke drunk or sober. go out and indulge, but only while looking complicated enough. fill your room with empty wine bottles from the night before. become an enigma - host martini evenings and drink scotch. if hemingway did it, why shouldn’t you?

a fashion style and sense that can only by your own, carried by uniqueness. become the most eccentric individual you know. scour all the thrift stores and worn-down places to find your garments. but you have to remain in certain class, do not get worn down. wear blazers, turtlenecks, trench coats- you know the drill. expensive jewelry that carries just the right shine. 

occassionaly find a way to seperate your mind, think an out-of body experience. lay in the meadows of your college until dawn. this will keep you sane. read biblic prose, just as a way to take you back to earth. 

smoke, drink and take in other substances all you want. have that red-wine taste stained into your lips, smoking a cigarette just after class ends. go out at night and end up places you never thought of being, recovering the next day by reading latin prose. 

become a local in that one coffee place. black coffee stains the staple of your notebooks, and you only feel alive after drinking three espressos. sit at the bar or at the terrace. forget the gentrified barista-esque joint you learned to hate; think that ancient café that has been there since the 50′s with old tiling lining its walls.

always strive to be the absolute best in everything. competition can turn to blood- and you don’t mind. walk over people that stand in your way, have affairs with your proffesors if that means getting a perfect mark. you know what you want and why want it. 

social

assert youself to adhere to a certain class of people; you are to be placed nowhere, but always associated with the upper ranks. you, after all, are the academic. get invited to places noone gets invited to, talk in complicated manners that places you above the rest. fear averageness.

talk to professors and show them who you are, talk to them about connections you made while reading essays and current events, discuss older theories and the latest academic papers in your subject. become a recognizable face, and begin to use that to your advantage. don’t become the lick-up, become their left-hand man. 

you don’t need a large social circle or to be known by your peers; but become a ‘figure’. you are known by folks you’ve never even seen the faces or heard the names of. 

have a close knit friend group. but remember: only associate with equals, or people above you. it is not your goal in life to each others. no, it is to learn, it is to climb. 

most of all: remember that this probably doesn’t apply to you. such a lifestyle is only fit for such a particular class of individuals. walk along.

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Im so delulu. I’m stuck feeling like I’m living in a dream of some kind. Like I’m just a stumbling energy of some kind clunking around and into things at times. I literally forget people can see me sometimes.

And other times I feel like a young god.

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The illustrations from the Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom Owlcrate special editions.

[love-each-other]

100+ angelic christmas gift ideas

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˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

i adore christmas - its one of my favourite holidays! so beautiful and wintery, the lights and decorations, mugs of hot chocolate, childhood memories and so many traditions make it such a special time of year for me. i however, often struggle with knowing what to ask for or what i want for christmas, so i created a little inspo list to help me and anyone else! whether this is for a family member, friend, partner or even yourself im sure this will help you know exactly what you want (or at least give you some pointers in the right direction). these are all obviously just suggestions and vary in price so please put down in the comments what you are asking for this year! enjoy angel!!

uggs

victoria secret pjs

cozy fluffy socks

laneige lip balm

lush body lotions

rose quartz gua sha

glossier makeup

dior lip oil

sonny angels

yoga mat

silk pillowcases

litre water bottle

candles

jelly cats

cute claw clips

ear warmers

books

cute planner

posters or tapestries

camera

philosophy body washes

makeup bag

sylvanian baby blind bags

slippers

matcha

records or cds

five minute journal

desk or wall calendar

eye mask and bonnet

fluffy blankets

large candles

benetint lip tint

rare beauty products

cuticle oil and glass nail file

gold jewellery

silver jewellery

knee high boots

colourful/printed tights

pocket mirror

mugs

house plants

hair band or cute hair clips

gisou hair products

highlighters

charlotte tilbury makeup

pretty nail polishes

salt lamp or other lamp

tea bags (chai, green etc)

wallet or purse

bag charms

dyson hair wrap

your fave chocolates

makeup bag

quilt

vintage room decor

fluffy/patterned rug

new phonecase

slippers

headphones

rings

belt

portable speaker

crystals

fuzzy scarf and gloves

patterned tote bag

dried flowers

fairy lights

jewellery box or trinket dish

photo album

bath oils

incense

locket

bows or pretty scrunchies

sunglasses

mini crates or storage boxes

lululemon clothes

new bedsheets

laptop case

cute pillows

hair curlers

alarm clock

vintage/thrifted clothes

picture frames

snowglobes

miniature trinkets

personalised charm bracelet

makeup brushes

diffuser

face masks

lego

coffee table books

skims

tea infuser

reusable straw

warm jacket

sports bag

keyrings

jumpers

heels

charity donation

thank you so much for reading angels! this season is such a wonderful time of year because of the ideas and ethos surrounding it; one of giving. this winter should be about our loved ones and those in need. whether you do something as simple as donating old clothes to charity or making christmas cards for the homeless, i would encourage everyone (myself included) to make it their mission to give back in at least one way. remember - angels are kind and generous inside and out! as we plan our gifts or think about shopping and the fun things to come let’s all take a moment to reflect on how we can give back.

love, m.

p.s it’s never too early for christmas!

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˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚