#how very dare he

[vexic929]

Bartholomew Allen, sir, you are giving me too many emotions, quit it!

[illgiveyouallofme]

I’m driving to Mike Farrell’s house. I’m knocking on his door. I’m demanding to know what he was thinking when he wrote & directed War Co-Respondent.

[whimsicalgoose]

thinking about spock being too human for vulcan, and too vulcan for most humans... and then there's kirk who looks at him with huge homosexual eyes and trusts spock with his life time and time again. and compliments his mind. and compliments the glimpses of his emotions. THEY MAKE ME ILL!!!!

[taitavva]

I am honestly so, so sorry, I didnt intend to break your neck it isnt my fault really, that I did not realise you were so very fragile, it was not even until the juddering grind of tooth on bone that I even knew

you were dead.

[A terrible apology (from a dog to a dead bird) - The Bad Thing by Maisie Cowell]

[linecrosser]

Febuwhump 2k25 - Day 9 - Necromancy

those years of fighting over a corpse were wild huh...

[muddyorbsblr]

excuse me sir how deep did huh--

Nice Freudian slip, Thomas.

[razzafrazzle]

my love for foppish fictional men truly knows no bounds

[image description: two drawings focusing on flavio from paper mario: the thousand-year door. the first picture of flavio singing, drawn in a simple, sketchy style. the second drawing is a comic. the first panel shows mario and goombella sitting across from flavio, who has a dreamy expression on his face and is saying, "we shall gather a crew and set off on a journey of romance!". the second panel is of goombella replying by saying "yknow that there are only male sailors in rogueport, right?", with a note below that panel saying "shes a lesbian shes just also homophobic". the third panel is of flavio looking confused, followed by the final panel of flavio in front of a rainbow background as he says "yes? does flavio stutter??". end id]

[viperify]

Smutmas 2024 | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ᴍᴜɢɢʟᴇ ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

We will meet again.

Short summary: You know your way around your town, which is why a handsome stranger at your local Christmas market instantly catches your attention. However, you surely are in for a surprise…

A/N: Posting this at 6am bc I have no life. Part two coming asap (buckle up for some hate fucking)

wordcount: 1,8k

part 2

The powdery snow crunches under the sole of your winter boots as you stroll through the Christmas market in your town. You inhale deeply, the smell of freshly baked gingerbread and orange-scented mulled whine filling your senses. Small children run around, screeching as they chase each other with snowballs. Your friends agreed to meet you later that evening, so for now, you enjoyed some alone time.

As you pass a group of musicians playing Christmas carols, a handsome stranger catches your attention. He is wearing a black winter coat and leather gloves, one hand in the pocket of his coat while he is gesturing towards the exit with the other, seemingly more than ready to leave. His beautiful brunette curls fall onto his forehead on one side, a few snowflakes sticking to his hair.

The longer you stare at him, the more curious you become where he might be from, given that you live in a fairly small town and everyone knows each other. You two lock eyes for a brief moment before he returns his attention to who you assume to be his friends. They soon turn their heads too, grinning when they spot who he was looking at. “Shit.” You curse under your breath, quickly disappearing behind a jewellery stand.

Tom did not want to be there by any means. Yet Mattheo, Draco and Theo had somehow convinced him to accompany them. Or, as he suspected, drugged him into compliance. These ridiculous muggle traditions and celebrations had even as a kid infuriated him. Not to mention that he was freezing in this weather, every tiny snowflake melting on his coat only adding to his irritation.

“I am leaving. I have had enough of this.” He sneers, pointing towards the exit. The others don’t pay his complaints any attention, exchanging knowing glances and resuming their conversation. Tom’s eyes wander around the market as the musicians begin another song. That’s when he spots you – staring right back at him.

Your figure is hidden beneath a thick winter jacket, a red scarf wrapped snugly around your neck, and a thin layer of snow covering the top of your head.

“Tom?”

He snaps out of his thoughts and turns toward his brother. “What were you-“ Mattheo begins, but stops mid-sentence, turning to scan the place. A sly grin forms on his lips as he sees you quickly turn to leave. “I see, I see. Tom Riddle ogling a muggle girl, huh?”

A scoff escapes Tom. “I wasn’t.”

The others laugh at how unconvincing his answer was. A whole new Tom had just emerged from Merlin knows where. Even he himself couldn’t believe the uncertainty in his voice, there was no way a muggle girl could be this intriguing at first sight. For the next few minutes he found himself unable to get his mind off you no matter what he tried, utterly convinced you had to be a witch as well. That was exactly what he was going to attempt to find out.

“I will be back.” Tom excuses himself, not waiting for an answer, heading in the direction you had disappeared. “Have fun!” The others tease, but he doesn’t care a bit. He had to find you.

“Thanks so much!” You smile, handing the man behind the counter some cash in exchange for a steaming hot cup of berry-flavoured tea. The brunette’s gaze still lingers in your mind, and secretly you wish he had followed you. There was something about him – something strange almost. An energy you had never felt before.

The cup warms your hands, numb from the cold as you stupidly enough had forgotten your gloves at home. Taking a first careful sip of your tea, you make your way to find a bench. Or so you think.

Just as you pass a beautifully decorated Christmas tree, a tall figure appears in front of you. You bump into him, spilling the tea everywhere. “God, I am so sorry!” You apologize, hissing at the burning sensation of the hot liquid dripping over your freezing fingers. As you look up, you instantly recognize the brunette from earlier in front of you. Your eyes widen in surprise and you realize you had thoroughly drenched his coat. You reach out instinctively to assess the damage, however he catches your wrist and stops you.

“Hold on. I got it.”

Not in your wildest dreams you could have imagined what happens next. From inside his coat he pulls out a long, weirdly shaped object, a stick you think. With just a small wave the spilled tea vanishes into thin air, the soaked spot on his coat drying up instantly.

Your eyes widen in horror, and you let out a small huff. “What are you? Some kind of magician?” You try to laugh the rising unease off, although seriously concerned by what the man in front of you had just done. He looks at you with a stern expression, realizing he was mistaken, you weren’t a witch. “I am much more than a magician.” The brunette murmurs and with another wave of that strange stick…

“Obliviate.”

The memory of what had just happened fades from your mind. Tom surely wasn’t going to take any chances with the Ministry, performing magic in front of a muggle could get you into serious trouble after all.

A tall figure, whom you recognize immediately, appears from behind the tree. It’s him, he had followed you after all. “Hey” you say, smiling. He nods. Just as you are about to take another sip of your tea, you realize the mug is almost empty, even though you had just bought it a minute ago.

“It’s leaking.” The brunette suggests, pointing to a drop forming beneath the porcelain mug. You check it and it’s true what he said. “Seems like you are right” you reply, looking behind you to see if you had spilled more, strangely enough though, that wasn’t the case. “But why-“

“I’ll get you a new one.” He interrupts, hands in the pockets of his coat as he strides toward the hut where you had bought it from. You follow him, tell him he doesn’t need to, yet he insists.

He hands you a fresh cup of the same tea you had before, which makes you wonder how he knew your choice, but deciding it might just be a coincidence, you let it go. “Thank you” you say, shooting him a small smile.

Tom didn’t know why he stayed after finding out you were a muggle, yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave. There was something different about you. He had noticed it the moment your eyes met, and he noticed it again now.

Both of you just stand there in silence for a moment and as soon as you take in his stern facial expression, you laugh, drawing his gaze to you. “You seem awfully unpleased to be here. Did your friends drag you along?”

“You could say so.” He replies, eyes flickering between you and some children running around nearby. “What’s your name, by the way? I have never seen you here before, and believe me, I know every soul in this town.”

“I am Tom, and not from here. So you couldn’t possibly know me.” He replies, his expression never changing into a friendlier one. “Well, Tom,” you grin, grabbing the sleeve of his coat. “I’d love to show you around then.”

Despite his initial resistance, you lead him through the market, trying out seasonal treats at various stands he has apparently never had before. “These are disgusting.” He remarks, handing you the roasted chestnuts he bought only a minute ago. You furrow your eyebrows, shaking your head in disbelief. “Don’t say that. They are my favourite!”

The next stop brings you to the children’s choir, watching them perform in front of their proud parents. You notice that each time there is a crowd, Tom goes silent, observing his surroundings intently. “Hey, what’s up?” You ask him, finishing your chestnuts.

“I hate everything about this.” He grumbles, and you two make your way out of the crowd, sitting down on a nearby bench.

“There is no reason for you to be so grumpy. It’s Christmas! The season of love and peace.”

Tom shakes his head. “I don’t care about either of those.”

“Poor Tom had his heart broken recently?” You tease, a playful tone in your voice. By the look he shoots you, you realize you had most likely struck a nerve and you apologize.

He doesn’t respond.

For a minute you sit there in awkward silence, the flickering lights from a nearby tree casting a colorful glow on his dark curls.

Ping.

You reach in your handbag and pull out your phone, seeing that your friends had texted you. Tom turns his head, looking at you like he had never seen a phone before. Your eyes meet his. “Some of my friends are going to be here soon. We could go to the ferris wheel then if you’d like?” You try to ease the tension, but he has other plans. “I am going to get going then.”

“No, stay! They would surely love to meet you.” You insist, placing your hand on his, feeling his warmth on your palm. He cocks an eyebrow at the sudden touch and you blush, pulling your hand back. “Sorry.” you whisper.

Your head shoots up as you hear familiar voices calling for you and you stand up to wave your friends over to where you two are sitting. Tom on the other hand takes the opportunity to leave, making his way back to the others. Talking to one muggle was bad enough.

Of course, they tease him on their way back to Hogwarts. He doesn’t care, though. You are still on his mind, and he can’t seem to forget you, much to his dismay. Too friendly, too cheerful for his liking. And who did you think you were to make fun of him?

He had it planned out – sweet revenge.

“Let me introduce you to someone I met just an hour ago!” You turn around to Tom, or atleast to where you think he was sitting. However, there is no one. He is gone. “Who exactly are we talking about? You are making friends with benches now?” Your friends laugh and you frown. “I swear he was just-“

The evening passes quickly and though you still enjoyed yourself, you couldnt figure out where Tom went. There was no way he could have disappeared that quickly. As you arrive home, you sit down on your bed, emptying your handbag, when an unfamiliar object catches your attention. It’s a gorgeous silver necklace, an emerald green gem hanging from the delicate chain. With it, you find a note.   

We will meet again.

[fuckyeahchinesefashion]

OP: Check out. The fully-sexual charged cinematic movement design.

Cnetizens: How did the director come up with the idea to have him kneel on a playing card, adding so much aesthetic energy, is that some kind of genius?

[mariigoldzz]

No offense but I feel like a lot of those pretentious hunger games posts about how the fandom "continues to ignore the message!" and how the movies "are bad representations of a great series and Suzanne Collins is a poor misunderstood author😡" are written to make the OP seem smart. There IS some truth these posts, but don't forget that Sunrise On The Reaping's book and movie were announced the same day. She clearly has SOME sort of contract or wants Lionsgate to make movies on her books. If she was THAT "misunderstood and angry at the film industry." like some people in this fandom claim then Haymitch would only get a book, not his own movie to go with it. Sorry.

Of course, everyone is entitled to their own opinion. You don't have to like the movies, and you can be mad at the fandom. These posts are starting to get on my nerves though and I needed to rant. (More in the tags)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

if i said i picked up this issue for anything but drunk erik i fear i'd be lying

(Wolverine (2020) #3)

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

It's so common in media for characters like Jinx (female characters with explicit trauma and mental health issues, especially those with child-like or energetic behavior) to be portrayed with this misogynistic "daddy issues" trope, like "if only she had a strong male presence in her life she wouldn't be such a disaster"

Which is why it is so special to me that Jinx has not one, not two, but THREE dads who all loved her and were active and present in her life for as long as they could be. None of them were perfect (well maybe Connol was we don't know dick about him lmfao) but none of them abused or oppressed her, none of them abandoned her.

Connol's situationship (it's implied he and Felicia weren't that serious by the fact that she was nervous to tell him) got pregnant and he stayed by her side and supported her and their little girls to his last breath.

Vander lost two of his best friends (and drove the last one away with a vicious attempt on his life) and he took Powder and her sister in, despite how broken he was, and he reformed his entire values system in an effort to keep them safe and be a comforting presence in their lives

Silco was ready to kill a little girl, and instead he welcomed her into his heart, his arms, his home. He gave her the unconditional love and comfort he had so wished for himself and not only accepted but embraced every part of her even when he was killed as a result of her mental health struggles. He told her she was perfect, and he was right.

[willowser]

not to be so disgusting and gross about gojo on the dash but i think he's such a flirty, teasing idiot that, when you show him genuine and true affection, he goes all somber and quiet.

like you come up to him after dinner and stand on your tip-toes and hug him for no reason, give him a fat kiss on the cheek for no reason, and he just — lets you. doesn't say anything, just kind of hums and lightly places his hands on your hips, so gently you might not even know they're there. you tell him, "i love you, thank you for eating with me," and he presses his mouth to the top of your head, lips squished, and says it back, but there's no jokes, no teasing remarks. he just allows himself to be weak and to bask in it, for as long as he can.

[cheapbourbon]

The moon requires a sacrifice 🌙

[wat-zu]

Dysfunctional family au— showdown aftermath, one week later

[coffeenonsense]

"Wah the woke gay agenda has gone too far they put gambit in a crop top" first of all I can't believe this is an actual take i saw with my eyes online. he looks incredible cry harder about it

secondly complaining about gay shit (like crop tops??!) in legitimately any iteration of x-men is a complete failure of media comprehension on a truly apocalyptic level

thirdly I want you to take a look at this picture and tell me where you see a single fucking ounce of heterosexuality. Look at this man in a pink breastplate, trenchcoat, thigh high boots and fingerless gloves and tell me where in the room the straightness is hiding:

PLEASE.