#a little originality would be nice

[goforth-ladymidnight]

So I'm shopping on Etsy for ACOTAR merch for Christmas (because I wanted to treat myself this year), and good GOD there are so many Tamlin's Tears mugs and Salty Little Bitch Tamlin candles and bookmarks. Whyyyy? At least the Suriel Tea mugs are kind of funny.

It makes me want to make my own stuff instead, to be honest.

[wiltkingart]

enemies to [gestures vaguely]

[front-facing-pokemon]

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Life update Life advice. Go Bald and be free.

[aquilamage]

bad and naughty iterators get put in the microwave to atone for their crimes

[honeylikewords]

cubs. (jack russell)

halloween brings all the little monsters out. aka, jack gets baby fever.

(warnings: mentions of pregnancy, planning for children, allusions to sex, descriptions of physical intimacy and making out, and jack smelling his wife, if that counts. nothing technically fully n/s/f//w//, but a bit saucy. word count 2.4k )

Jack’s head tilts sideways before the doorbell even rings, one ear higher than the other to catch something she can’t hear. He turns in his seat on the couch, arm strewn over her shoulder, to look behind them in the direction of the front door, tilts over, kisses her temple, and pops up in the seconds before the slightly-jarring “ding” echoes through the house. He’s already at the door, bowl in hand, beaming down at the gaggle of children and chaperones by the time she’s even stirring on the couch to come to join him.

“Oh, who do we have here?,” Jack coos excitedly, scanning the miniature crowd. “Are you the little one from--”

“Stranger Things!,” yells a small child in a pink dress, blonde wig askew, tendrils of the plastic hair stuck to their face. “I’m Eleven!”

“Yes, sí, can you do the--” --Jack sticks his hand out and makes a face, and the child eagerly matches him, giving him their best furious expression and most powerful psychokinetic pose-- “Yes! That’s so good!”

He quickly glances up at the three adults standing behind and asks if there are any allergies in the group (and there are none, thank goodness) as his wife comes to stand next to him, smiling at the Eleven who is now turning their powers onto their group of friends. Gesturing for the kids to bring their bags closer, Jack begins dropping generous fistfuls of candy into eagerly opened pillowcases and treat sacks, small hands darting out to show off the newest snacks to one another.

“Hey there, Mirabel,” says Mrs. Russell, waving at a young girl in a blue skirt and white t-shirt, sporting a giant pair of glasses and a pink flower in her dense curls. The little one is wrapped up in a purple puffer jacket on this cold October evening, and while it is a truth universally acknowledged that a big coat is the bane of Halloween costumes, the effect of her adorable smile and ‘Encanto’ printed trick-or-treat bag is more than enough to convey the essence of the character. “Is Uncle Bruno with you tonight?” 

The girl shyly shakes her head and wrings the handles of her bag in her fingers but is smiling widely when Jack speaks a few quick words of admiration for her costume in Spanish and passes her a scoop of candy for her bag.

“I’m Ariel!”, adds a small child in a green tube skirt with flared tulle flippers sewn on, a purple strip of cloth tied around their tummy over a slightly off-skin-tone longsleeve tee.

“And I’m Harry Potter!” A wand is brandished at Jack, who puts a hand over his chest in shock.

“I’m Batman!” The petite hero jumps into a pose to show off the padding of his armor, his light-up shoes kicking to life and casting green flashes over the porch.

Jack turns to his wife and grins, gesturing enthusiastically at the crowd of kids. “I think these are the best costumes we’ve seen all night, no?” She nods, and the kids all let out little shrieks and giggles as Jack procures a few extra pieces from the bowl and adds them to their bags. 

The chaperones guide the straggling children into a chorus of “thank you”s before shuffling them down from the porch, past the jack o’lanterns, and on to the next house, as Jack and his wife remain in the doorway. She leans her head on his shoulder and listens to him sigh sweetly, his eyes tracing over the sunset-lit streets swarming with seas of children and their families, all screaming and laughing over one another, racing past on the sidewalks, weaving in and out of lawns decorated with tombstones and inflatable specters, plastic skeletons and felted spiders. 

“You know, at the rate you hand it out, we’ll be out of candy before the street lights come on,” she teases, nudging his shoulder. Jack chuckles and puts a hand on the small of her back, shrugging as he steers her back towards the couch. 

“It’s Halloween, bebé; do you want us to be known as the stingy old couple, or the cool couple that gives out extra candy to the little monsters? Besides, that Mirabel, oh my God--”

“Total heart-melter,” she agrees, sitting and cuddling into Jack’s side as he hooks his arm back over her shoulders and pulls her body close. “I think between her and that four-month-old dressed as Grogu, we may have seen the two cutest costumes in all of North America today.”

Jack lets out a groan at the memory of the adorable baby, who he had greeted at the door with a delighted peal of laughter, and squeezes his wife tightly in his arms, as if hugging her in the baby’s stead. The abrupt squish pushes a small squeak out of her, and Jack giggles, bumping the blunt tip of his long nose into her cheek.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “You okay?”

His slight frame conceals a rather intense strength, something that comforts her, even if it still sneaks up on her every now and again that he is, in fact, as strong as he is; Jack’s touch is grounding and warm when so few things in the world are, and she’s glad, especially in the cold months, for the over-active heat of his body and the power of his embrace. 

He traces the tips of his broad, tan fingers along the curve of her upper arm, pale nails leaving wake trails of gooseflesh and pleasant shivers. She realizes he’s waiting for a response before going any further with his affections, and she nods, cupping the square of his chin and running her thumb along his bottom lip. When his olive green eyes fix on hers, and his lips part to reveal the brightness of his smile, crooked to the left by the jut of his snaggletooth, she feels heat wash over her face and down her body, familiar and fluttering as he dips his face close and keeps her gaze.

“You know what I’m thinking?,” Jack purrs, voice dropping low and soft as he begins inching nearer. When he’s this close, his breath falls on her skin like a warm fog, sticking sweetly to her neck and cheeks, and the scent of him gets stronger. 

He smells like their bed, she thinks. Cozy, fuzzy, and tinged with a modicum of not-at-all-unappealing sweat, there is also that distinct canine note that can only be detected in this kind of proximity. His arms are still wrapped around her, and one of his hands is coasting, flat-palmed, up and down the length of her side, following the curves of her ribs and belly, while the other finds itself resting on her shoulder, idly fingering an errant lock of hair. His face is so close to hers that she swears she could count each of his eyelashes, individually, and the hairs that form his growing stubble.

This Halloween, Jack has chosen to go as a vampire, which he thinks is exceedingly funny. Dark makeup rings his eyes and the grey in his hair glows almost blue in the low light of the fading day, lending him an unearthly quality that fits his costume well. The powers of the vampire, too, seem to be his: he has her under his thrall, certainly. His smile is mesmeric, and she can imagine that if a vampire were to look like him, there would be no end to the line of people willing to be bitten by that self-same smile.

“What are you thinking, Puppy?,” she asks, trying to redirect her own wandering thoughts. She scratches lightly at the underside of his chin and, on reflex, his head tilts up, eyes fluttering shut as a contented noise rumbles in the back of his throat. He’s so easy to please.

“I’m, uh--” He seems distracted by the sensation of her scratching at that Just Right spot between the back of his ear and the crook of his jaw, a distraction that only worsens when she begins scratching the hair at the nape of his neck. “I was going to say that I… I was thinking we…”

His hands lie still on her, twitching every now and then when she finds a particularly pleasing spot to scratch, and she relishes the sensation of being the one who now has her beloved under her own thrall; Jack leans his head into her touch and follows the motion of her hands, chasing her attentions. A sigh leaves his lips and he unclenches his shoulders, melting into her as she leans back against the armrest of the couch and Jack follows, laying his head on her chest. 

His weight is surprisingly heavy atop her as he lays himself on her belly, slotting between her knees and positioning himself for ease of scritching. He’s not a big man, by any means, but there’s a density to him, and she’s feeling it now as he presses her into the couch with his body.

She pauses her petting briefly as she adjusts to the new position, and her hands still in his hair, which causes a growl of displeasure to part his lips. At that, she looks down at him and sees one green eye peering up at her (the other still shut and squished into her chest), and sticks her tongue out at him before continuing the strokes to his salt-and-pepper pelt.

It’s rather soothing, playing with his hair like this. There’s a therapeutic element to the combination of his body weight, intense warmth, rhythmic breathing, and the texture of his hair under her fingers, and she lets instinct carry her, as salient thought drifts away into the blissful mist of repetitive motion and familiar feelings. She traces the lines of his scalp, watching his black and grey and still, sometimes, brown hair forest up around her fingers, content to just match the tide of his breaths with her own, their ribs pressed together and expanding in synchronicity. 

After a moment, Jack stirs. Turning, he cranes his face so that he can look at her squarely, and she feels the irresistible magnetism of that green gaze tugging her deeper into his spell.

“I want to try for one of our own,” he says, shattering the stillness like a foul ball through plate glass. “Tonight, if you’re ready.”

It takes her a second to blink away the haze that had settled around her head, and when she does at last manage to, she finds herself staring down into Jack’s face, taking him in with utmost fascination. If she heard him clearly, and she believes she did, he asked her--

“A baby, by the way. In case I wasn’t clear.” He flashes her a smile and a breathy laugh, and he pats her side playfully. “I’m sure you could figure that out, amorcita, but I like to be direct.”

“Oh.” 

It’s all she can think to say: not because she is unhappy, or undesiring of the same things, but simply because the effect of Jack Russell, staring up at her with his big, moss-colored puppy eyes, brazenly stating that he wants to try and conceive with her, is flooring. He pushes up on his forearms, and suddenly he is above her, his face lit starkly by the shadows of the setting sun and the television, marking him out in black and white. His eyes glow, even in the darkness.

The wolf’s smile slips into his features as he stares down at her, watching her reactions with delight. He can hear her heartbeat, she knows, smells the minute shifts that not even she is aware of. He knows her, inside and out, and surely knows which way she is swayed, but he waits patiently for her to give him a sign, a command, an enthusiastic yes or a firm no. He won’t move without her urging.

She cups his face and lets out a shaky, excited breath, one that shivers in her sternum and makes Jack grin. There’s that crooked canine of his, sharply glinting in his smile, and she trembles joyfully at the sight, wondering if their child would have their father’s snaggletooth. She hopes they do.

“Tonight,” she repeats. Jack’s eyes widen.

Gently, she tugs him down and presses his pouty lips to hers, and the dam breaks. Jack lets out an inhuman groan of delight, dropping his center of gravity low to lean into the kiss, and uses his blunt incisors to pull at her bottom lip, nipping and sending the wet, lapping sounds of kissing echoing through the room. He uses one hand to hold her jaw in place, then begins trailing kisses down and around her chin, working his way to her throat.

“Look so pretty in your costume,” he rasps, voice low and clouded. “‘S hard for a man to keep his hands to himself.”

Before she can snidely remark that he, in fact, has not been keeping his hands to himself for almost the entirety of the evening, Jack sinks his teeth into her neck: not hard enough to wound her, but certainly hard enough to make her forget every other thought, her mind now focused completely on the reality that her husband is leaving marks all across her throat.

“You smell,” Jack groans, “So good. And, oh, God, when you have our cubs…”

He pushes his face into the crook of her neck and inhales, a series of Spanish and English curses flowing from his lips as they wander across her skin, and his hands begin rucking up the bottom of her blouse when--

“DING.”

Jack’s head whips up, and the two of them stare with wide eyes at one another. His face is flushed a deep umber and his lips are shiny, hair a fluffed mess, and she can only imagine she looks even more sordid and knocked askew. They exchange a communicative glance before the doorbell rings a second time and Jack, ever the gentleman, kisses her forehead, rapidly apologizing.

“We’ll get back to this, querida, I promise, I swear, I want to--”

She waves him off with a smile, and sees him bolt for the door, candy bowl in hand. He throws it open with gusto, and as she watches, she sees the transformation come over him; the brightness in his eyes, the giddiness of his smile, the sincerity of his sweetness. He’s going to make a magnificent father. And she’s going to have a very, very happy Halloween.

[zelkam]

— abd ar-rahmān jāmī, by the garden // (remake of an old edit)

[candy-crackpot]

One of my favourite things about how Hoshino writes Allen is the ways different characters will admit to, admire or in the Earl's case be unsettled by his strenght.

Allen doesn't have as much destructive force as Cross, Sokalo or Klaud but everyone acknoledges his crackhead determination and resolution, but the characters are so dead certain in him as if he was an unstoppable force of nature.

From the time the Earl and Allen meet on screen for the first time

How Kanda is stunned by his Anti-Akuma weapon's evolution

How Bookman trusts that Allen is still alive even as they got some very vague information on Allen's condition

Komui doesn't even try talking Allen out of boarding the Ark because of course Allen would and Komui knows there's no stopping Allen once he decided to do something

How the Earl pursued eliminating Lenalee even with Cross and Tiedoll lurking nearby, but Allen shows up and he grabs his kids in a blink of an eye and disappears as if the IRS was after him

When fighting Jasdevi Lavi turns to Allen to discuss the plan, as if he was the leader of the group

Lenalee outright calls his willpower superhuman and how Krory backhand deems him strong enough to carry while Krory back him up

How Tyki and Lenalee are shocked by him fixing his weapon on his own

Or be very unsettled when Allen surpasses the Critical Point

How both Komui and Reever almost instantly figure it out that Allen was the one who broke the Critical Point

Road guessing that she probably couldn't kill Allen with direct physical attacks

How Cross knows and trusts Allen's spirit and abilities

How Kanda likewise covertly acknowledges Allen to be strong by demanding he pays attention so together they can destroy the Level 4

Apocryphos commends his fighting spirit, that Allen could withstand what Crows and even Kanda got folded by, on three tries, AND retained his memories

Kanda once again trusts Allen to deal with the fusion Akuma going after him.

Everyone who even remotely knows Allen consider him a force to be reckoned with and I really enjoy how it's shown within the story.

[an-angels-fury]

My Asexual Headcanons 🖤

For the ones who don't know what it means:

Asexuality is defined as an orientation for people who feel little to no sexual attraction for any gender.

P.S.: Asexual ≠ Aromantic. Some aces don't feel romantic attraction (more known as Aromantic Asexuals or just aroaces) but both labels have different meanings. There are aces who wish to fall in love and be in a romantic relationship (they can identify themselves as homoromantic, heteromantic, biromantic, panromantic, etc.).

P.S. 2: There's an asexual spectrum for those aces who find themselves in the gray area of asexuality. This group includes aces who feel a small level of attraction, those who feel it rarely or only in very specific conditions and those whose identity fluctuates from time to time between strictly asexual and allosexual.

Characters (from left to right):

Obi Wan Kenobi (Star Wars Prequels)

Mary Poppins (Mary Poppins)

Luke Skywalker (Star Wars Originals)

Wednsday Addams (The Addams Family)

Carrie White (Carrie)

Merida (Brave)

Elsa (Frozen)

Moana (Moana)

A friendly reminder this is just MY opinion. You don't need to agree with me, all I ask is respect. Thank you. 👍

--------------------------------------------------

My other Queer Headcanons 🏳️‍🌈:

(Demisexual HCs)

(Bisexual HCs)

--------------------------------------------------

[strawbebbiesart]

a memory 🪴🌞

[medi-bee]

I would LOVE more of the little neuron eater man!

Also, a second question, why do you have a tail installed? It seems too big to pick things up. Though it looks very nice!!

Please don't encourage Nips. She can understand you.

…

My tail? It's there to function as a counterweight, so that I can balance properly. If needed, it also functions as a close-ranged weapon.

... Occasionally it's even turned into a plaything.

[laniemae]

I am going to take a break from milgramblr

[important please read]

ok now how do I start. Im going to take a break from tumblr for about a week. Things have been absolutely awful for me here since the very beginning of 2024, even if it may not look that way at times.

to retell the situation it happened with the new years gartic phone game, where someone made a prompt about a ship that made me heavily uncomfortable. To put it loosely it reminded me of an extremely bad experience with a fandom a few years ago when I called out a ship for being creepy and having a huge age gap but I was constantly dogpiled and harassed. It was probably the worst experience I’ve had on the internet and to this day I get really scared of people hating on me and I apologise for everything likely stemming back from the situation.

I tried to persist with the game but I got really upset and left. I expressed on my blog how uncomfortable I felt about the whole situation. Then this one person, who’s a prominent figure in the Milgramblr community, I won’t name them but I think you’ll know who, replied on my post saying that “it’s ok because…” in such an awful tone. It’s hard to explain but basically it felt really bad as they completely dismissed my feelings about the situation just to justify their creepy ship. And even worse, they way they responded was EXACTLY the same way that everyone else responded back in to at old fandom. At the point to I’d much prefer hate and harassment over that false positive attitude.

I freaked out and immediately blocked them and basically went into a panic attack. I was freaking out on my blog and just to make things worse I saw a post praising them and things got so bad. It was the start of the new year and I was on holiday and was supposed to do a bunch of things but because of that situation I was bedridden and couldn’t stop crying. I had so many nightmares about everyone here turning on me and the original incident and I still have them.

the way the person reacted to my situation was absolutely awful. After my breakdown they immediately went to their blog and started posting about how the ships good and you should praise it completely disregarding everything that happened. I’ve always been uncomfortable with them but this pushed me over the edge. And later on I got in contact with someone who was (presumably) trying to help me and we decided to see if that person could make an apology. But they took way to long to even think they gave any attention to the situation and the apology itself didn’t feel that genuine.

This person was still posting about it and didn’t change their pfp and title despite how bad it was to me and they did not do anything at all. Again I’m not naming anyone but I highly recommend you do not support them anymore. I said I’m going to be leaving for a while but if you want clarification on who it is you can just ask, I’ll check my stuff tomorrow morning before I completely shut off for the week.

I don’t know who it was but there was even a throwaway account hating on me and saying awful things. I didn’t care that much as things had already gotten so bad for me that I didn’t care about the opinion of an anon. But like I said, the sickly positive response that person gave was way worse than actual hate.

and that’s only one part of the story. Another thing happened much more recently with the person I mentioned who was trying to help me. They were the first person I followed on Milgramblr and the person who inspired me to join and make all these theories, so with this and them helping me I really looked up to them. It was a few days ago I think but they posted something on their account about that person and wanting attention to them. I expressed my uncomfortable feelings about the situation and they didn’t do anything about it. Instead they decided to KEEP POSTING about it, like constantly and me getting more upset at the situation and how they responded made it clear that they didn’t care at all. I blocked them and we were mutuals for a while.

It’s been a month and I’m still suffering very badly. I’m not constantly crying as I was when it first happened but it still pains me. I’ve been feeling incredibly distressed on this sight knowing that the original person hasn’t done anything about it and they’re still very close. No matter how much I block them or blog tags I still see them in reblogs or bought up. I had to exclude anything relating to the earbuds collab from my milgram archives as it gives me back really bad memories to the pfps involved. I just can’t feel safe in this place anymore and especially that no matter how I feel, nothing has changed since when it happened and no one’s even actually trying to help me or change things.

I’ve just been feeling so bad that I’ve been going days without eating. Just because I can’t be bothered to get out of bed. The only solace for me is sleep but even that’s not good enough as I might have nightmares and I often feel much more tired afterwards. Things are changing for me as I actually have to get up and do something now and it’s surprisingly going kinda well, but that has nothing to do with this situation.

just to note I will be continuing my milgram archives series, I’ve scheduled quite a few posts for this week so they’ll keep going. For me I’ll completely cut off all activity for this week, and may return on Wednesday.

it’s just. I hate how nothings changed. I want something to happen but no one’s helping

[elainewellspoetry]

In all of my nightmares, I have been forgotten about | 3.4.24

[the-eldritch-it-gay]

I know Wyll is like, in canon 24 or smth but I always thought he was like, in his late 20s/early 30s.

[pawbeanies]

Baby boy. Pretty puppy. Wanna hold your face, kiss you real gentle, run my hand down your back and catch at your waist, settlin’ there like we were two figures made outta clay, made to fit together, molded from each other’s model, but put into the kiln separately, so we wouldn’t blow up.

I could make you anything you wanted. I work with clay, I work with metal, I work with leather… I could make you a pretty little collar, you just say the word. I could be yours, if you’d let me. You’re sweeter than fresh squeezed peach juice and I’m sure you’d last longer on my tongue.

I can be sweet, if that’s what you want. I can be a real gentleman, buying you drinks, opening up doors for you, walking you to wherever you wanna go, I can be soft, I can be warm. I can be like a sunset, I can see the moon in your eyes, looking at me, knowing I’m only there to lead up to your night.

We can kiss under the stars, my jacket on your shoulders, my hand on your thigh. You’re such a nice boy, I know I’d feel bad for kissing you like that, but not too bad, not when you’re begging me for it.

I’m getting sappy. It’s getting late. I wanna make you a ring that fits exactly on your finger, and I want you to know I made it only because I thought you might like it. I want my callouses to match the ring, the effort just as beautiful as the product. I know any effort can be beautiful, with you.

- 🍑

awa ..?!?! aawawawawawa?!?!?! awawawawawAAA?!?!?

please imagine like. me. comically and over exaggeratedly turning around like youre talking to someone behind me. turning back to look at you n pointing at myself. ME ? ME?! did you send this to the wrong blog peach anon are you sure. are y. you. wh. awawa.?!?!

this is too sweet and ?!?! romantic?!?! it can't be for me ... huh ... covering my face with my sleeves kicking my feet a little you are VERY good with your words and very. augh. wouagh. um?!? mhm mhm?!! crumbling into dust as i type i. w. awawa. i cant even think of words and sentences that make sense this is very ... aaa... wah.... so nice and gentle and .?!?! i..?!?!

i keep reading this one i feel like dizzy. im ?? wah??? hiding my face blushing whining sliding down in my chair. please ? please ? ive been taken out in one fell swoop.....

[badassindistress]

Question:

I just bought enough black cotton to make myself another pirate shirt like this:

Would anyone be interested if I turned this project into a little sew-along?

Where I do a weekly post explaining what I'm doing and anyone who wants to can sew along with me and show off their progress and hopefully have a cool shirt at the end

Would that be something people are interested in?