#you know what I don't want my blog to go down in history for?

[nothinggathers]

Nature may have denied Elijah tiddies, but unfortunately he is a billionaire. He probably has implants

Nature unfortunately gave Elijah Kamski big naturals in his youth. @a-feral-coffee-enthusiast likes to torment me with the evidence.

I'm the one denying Elijah possession of tatas now, and implants won't help him because I have access to the tools to remove them.

[jeremiahthefroge]

literally obsessed w writing fanfic. So glad I decided to pick it back up. I'm not ready to like, announce it on the actual fic bc I don't want to ACTUALLY get anybody's hopes up, bc I literally can't stick to a project for more than 2 minutes, but I've been slowly going back over my old ATLA fic And You Saved Me, Maybe, in which Zuko joins the Gaang way early in season 1 after the Blue Spirit episode, bc I wrote like 60k words and it blew the hell up on Ao3, like that shit was my Magnum Opus in high school, and I've made a lot of progress as a writer since then. It's always kinda haunted me that I didn't ever finish it, but I just can't work with the fic as it is now, so I'm like, COMPLETELY reworking it. The other day, I reread it, and took 10 pages of notes on the exact plot/character beats that I introduced. That fic is a MESS. I wanna fix it up, finish it, and release it.

I love trying to accurately nail Zuko and Aang's characters as I've come to understand them as an adult. Zuko's sort of prideful defiance in season 1 is something that I totally skipped right over in the fic. I was working with an understanding of Zuko that I had after the entire show was over and it just didn't work for season 1 Zuko, which made his whole arc totally whatever.

And also now I can smoke pot and I know how to write a story outline. So we know this shit will be inherently better. I'm seriously hoping I can actually get this going properly, and I'm encouraged because I've written a bit of it a night for like a week, so we'll see what's up with all that.

[brattyspence]

virginia is for lovers | s.reid

summary: model!reader accidentally exposes their relationship through a soft launch instagram post

tags: model!reader x spencer, penelope included <3, smau

a/n: this is kinda short n pointless but i wanted a reason to write reader tweeting abt spencer and its been in my drafts for weeks so

word count: 1.1k

masterlist

Spencer had worked hard to keep you a secret. 

Not because he wasn’t thrilled to be in your life, because he really, really was. Historically, things had a tendency to go south as soon as word got out, especially when it came to his personal life. 

You had met in a bookstore. It was a short interaction; you were busy debating which translation of The Stranger was most appropriate to read. You must have been standing in the aisle of the bookstore a little too long, holding two copies side by side, when he had offered his two cents on the matter.

Typically, you weren’t one to entertain conversation in public. Nine times out of ten, you’d get one word in before the inevitable “Please can I take a picture? I love your blog so much!”, but this was different. You weren’t even sure he had even seen your face before he started talking to you. He wasn’t initially trying to hit on you, either. He was genuinely excited that someone was willing to listen to him ramble about the differences between the Ward and Guilbert translations, so when you responded in such a way that asked him to continue on, he was surprised. 

That day, you’d left the store with four more books than intended, and a single bookmark where he had written his phone number after you asked for it.  He had asked you for your name; a confirmation that he actually had no idea who you were. 

The rest was history. You saw him whenever possible, spent nights on the phone together, and flew across the country often just to see him. You loved having a relationship that didn’t need to be public, but you were also excited to share bits of it with the world.

It was late at night, and he was sitting at his desk in the bullpen, trying to finish the last of the paperwork he’d been assigned, when he heard commotion from Penelope’s office. He figured it was nothing new; probably just some news about the royal family or one of the real housewives again, but she’d thrown her door open in such a way that it garnered attention from everyone in the office.

“Spencer Reid,” She gripped her phone and rushed across the room with determination. “Do you have something you want to share with me?”

He looked up from his paperwork, furrowing his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

“Why are you on my Instagram feed?” She placed her phone on his desk in front of him. 

“I’m not on instagram,” he replied. 

“Oh, but you are,” she said. “You are such a little liar. I can’t wait to tell Derek about this.”

She pushed his paperwork aside, plopping her phone down in front of him. It was a slideshow on instagram. A photo of the most recent bouquet he bought for you. A few from the museum you’d visited together, including several where his hands or shoes were visible, but nothing that really pointed to him. He could almost make the argument Penelope was mistaken, until the last photo, which included just enough of his apartment to confirm her questioning.

“You said you were seeing someone and I thought… someone from a chess tournament, or maybe… oh, I don't know. Literally anyone else? But you bagged a model?” 

“I-” he sighed. “How did you find her?”

“I didn’t find her, Spencer. I’ve followed her for years! I see her posts all the time. I can’t believe you.”

He scrolled down.

liked by @jjareau and others

@yourusername: virginia is for lovers :)                                              posted 12 hours ago

↪ @randomuser1: GIRL STOP TEASING WHO IS HE

↪ @randomuser3: i’ve been trying to figure it out since that tweet last month 😞

↪ @randomuser2: this is the sweetest soft launch i’ve ever seen <3

↪ 12k comments

He clicked onto your profile. 

@yourusername 

5.2M Followers

Followed by @jjareau, @emp.sergio and more

“You’ve got to see her Twitter, lover boy. She’s been gushing about you.”

“Oh, god,” he groans. So much for privacy. He lets her take the phone back, redirecting his attention to your Twitter page. She scrolls back to June before handing it over, letting him read in chronological order.

June 10

@yourusername: hot girl summer is officially over. just asked a man for HIS number.

June 25

@yourusername: is it offensive to men if you call them pretty? bc this man is rlly pretty 

@yourusername: update: apparently it is not :)

July 30:

@yourusername: good morning text + picture of a dog that he claims reminded him of me???? gonna ask for his hand in marriage

August 15

@yourusername: up til 2 bc hes explaining quantum mechanics to me 🧚🏻

@yourusername: embarrassed to say that form of dirty talk worked on me 

August 20

@yourusername: oh btw im a girlfriend now!

↪@yourfan1: look u long enough wtf girl

↪@yourusername: dw im locking him down 🫡

↪@yourfan2: thats OUR man now 💘

“Oh, wow.”

She takes the phone back. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? Or me? Oh, this is great news. You’re bringing her to Rossi’s next, week, right?”

“I- Pen, I have no idea.” He laughs. He watches her type away on the device aggressively. “Are you texting everyone?”

“Yuh-huh. I need to call JJ, like… yesterday. And this isn't the end of this conversation!” She darted back into her office quickly, letting the door fall shut behind her.

He decided his remaining paperwork could wait. He packed his things up in a hurry, and decided to head out of the office, dialing your number on the way out. 

You picked up on the first ring. 

“Hey,” you started. “How was work? Are you heading out?”

“Yeah,” He started. He pushed through the glass doors of the office, staring towards the stairwell. “It was… busy. I just had a really interesting conversation with my coworker.”

“Mhm…” You had been lounging in your hotel room waiting for his call. “About..?”

“You, actually.” He replied. “She follows you on instagram. Apparently most of the office does. She showed me your post today.”

“Oh,” you replied. “Oh god, Spence. I’m sorry. I didn’t think… anyone would be able to tell who you were.”

He laughs. “Yeah, well… I work with some… characters. It’s totally fine, though.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, anxiously.

“Yeah. It was cute,” he replied, smiling to himself as he exited the building. “Tasteful.”

“That's what I wanted,” You reply.

“I thought Twitter was much more interesting, though.”

You froze, cringing. “Oh, god. Tell me you didn't read all of it.

He chuckles. “I skimmed it.”

You groan. 

[hiveswap]

Summary of The Cat of The Year poll atrocities of 2023/2024

I'm sure that most people on this side of tumblr have seen the Jellie vs. Nefarious Anglerfish poll going around with like 60k votes at this point, and I'd really like clear up some of what happened since I was around for the whole thing.

Url blocked out for op's privacy. They have already left but don't look for it if you haven't seen it/don't harrass them if you already have.

1. The previous round (preparation)

I discovered the poll in its previous round, needless to say she beat Jort's ass severely. This was around the 3rd of january, meaning that this round finished before jellie's passing with only about 7k votes. Op did add their own piece of propaganda from their main:

...which was FINE. (except for stuff we'll see later) Of course running a poll while biased isn't ideal but I for one didn't even know they were the op until much later. I also added my own piece in a separate thread, and they didn't interact with it at all. There was no drama.

2. The Finale

Jellie unfortunately passed away right before the starting of this poll, which was the catalyst for what happened next. Op did exactly as last time and added a slightly more mean spirited encouragement to vote for the other contestant. This is the point where I believe that i fucked up personally.

I added this thinkpiece accusing op of associating all mcyters with Dream (who we all hate for the record) despite them not alluding to him at all. This is because tumblr has a history of disimissing all mcyters as... everything that dream was been accused of. Op did allude to not caring for mcyt. but they didn't say what i accused them of. This is important to point out because this reblog of mine is still being spread. Jellie was in the lead at the time, but not by the time i woke up next morning.

I won't be including anyone else's additions because I don't want to put blame on any specific person. Just felt like clearing up mine.

3. The Fuckening

Some time later op made this post to their personal blog:

which is insanely shitty because, as other people have pointed out, the "lame ass youtube cat" didn't die to inconvinience op or ruin their fun, and people would have probably voted for her anyway because jelly is universally beloved in the mcyt community. This isn't anti democratic. This post was added to the poll with a caption saying op should not be running this poll, and it took off. Op later went on to say that this was a joke:

This apology was not taken well by people, (including me) because "you were not meant to see it" isn't an apology and they still very much made fun of someone's pet dying. Safe to say this did not make the drama stop and only added fuel to the flame. I believe this was the point where the conversation of mcyt fans being unjustly sent hate to was reignited.

We should discuss that! it's a real thing that happens often and is equal to childish bullying. However, in this case, OP was the only one getting sent hate to my knowledge. The notes were mostly saturated by mcyt fans, and even now i can only find one or two hateful stance towards us under the whole 20k notes post.

4. Conclusions

Op posted a second apology to the catoftheyear blog to try and calm people down (i believe this is comprehensive and a lot better than the previous one) The blog was deactivated shortly after, so i only have my phone screenshots of it that i also added to the poll itself at some point:

(Edit) Here's proof that op did not write the justification they got criticised for, from the notes of the original poll:

This apology didn't get seen, or get accepted by enough people, so op made this statement on their personal:

Needless to say I am deeply dissapointed (and guilty) that it's come to this. Yes, op said tasteless things that made us all angry, but telling a human being to commit suicide is worse than being insensitive about a stranger's pet dying. Even after I posted about the blog being decatived i had someone come into my notes to wish that "they never find happiness" i mean wtf. This isn't like shipping where we can do whatever without the content creator's input. this is fucking harrowing and i can't imagine how i'd feel if this was done in my/my pet's name especially after losing them as recently as a week ago.

I hope no one from hermitcraft who is on here (let alone scar holy shit) learns about this like they did with previous lighthearted tournaments. If you truly respect the creators you claim to be a fan of as people, you do not tell people to kill themselves over them. And finally, let Jellie fucking rest, guys. she had a long, good life. I hope op can come back and also avoids behaving like this if they ever wish to do so. I'm angrier at mcytblr, though.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

This is probably small in the grand scheme of things, but how did Emilie being noble play any impact in the story at all?

I mean, I'd get it if it was just a small detail to help deepen Emilie's character, but why nobility of all things? I don't know, from what I'm seeing so far, the whole "Emilie renounced her noble title" shtick just feels worthless if it's not going to impact the story or add depth to Emilie's character (like maybe upbringing or personal values?).

I don't know. Like everything else, the noble part just feels shallow and means nothing to the story, especially for a character like Emilie, who is the plot device for the whole show. Any detail about her, like her personality and life story, is supposed to influence the story and characters one way or another, namely Hawkmoth since she's his driving force.

So what was the point?

For context, this ask is about Félix's play which says that Emilie gave up her title to be with Gabriel. I'm gonna give a slightly larger section of the transcript of the play for full context, but the relevant but is at the end of the last paragraph:

Félix: The king and queen's twins grew up, each day as different in heart as they were similar in body. The firstborn, curious and brazen, despised life at court and escaped at every opportunity. The younger daughter, well-behaved and respectful, did everything she could to please her parents, and stayed quietly in the castle. Félix: (as Mr. Graham de Vanily) Oh, my queen. Did we entrust our legacy to the right princess? Kagami: (as Mrs. Graham de Vanily) She will fall in line, eventually. Félix: Confident that she would settle down as she matured, the king and queen allowed the curious princess to leave to study beyond the sea in another kingdom. There, she immediately found true love in a humble tailor. Félix: The tailor was making clothes so magnificent that they revealed the beauty of the soul of anyone who wore them. Although it made her parents furious, the curious princess gave up her rank, her wealth and her kingdom to live a bohemian life with the tailor.

Story wise, I have no idea why any of this was added since it adds nothing to canon. It's not like this finally explains why Gabriel and Emilie are poor while Amelie is wealthy. Along similar lines, it's not like Amelie's title has ever mattered. Prior to this play, I don't think that we even knew that she had a title or that she was the younger sister. The play is all about explaining things that we never had reasons to question in the first place.

My best guess as to why the writers wrote this pointless backstory is that they wanted to make Emilie seem even more pure and perfect so they went with the tired old trope of a rich girl giving up material things for the sake of love and art because good pure women don't care about material things! Only nasty, shallow women care about money. (Way to play into sexist tropes, guys.)

There may also be cultural elements at play here given that France doesn't have the greatest history with nobility, so giving up a noble title may be seen as good and pure to a French writer, but I don't know enough about French culture to say that with any certainty. If anyone who reads this blog is French and would like to chime in, then feel free!

While we're on the topic of the play, I wanted to point out that the above quoted passage is why I say that the Graham de Vanily parents can be as kind or as abusive as you'd like to make them. It's incredibly vague and you can read into it whatever you want to read into it. Were they good loving parents who were just upset about their daughter living in poverty or were they miserable controlling classist who Emilie fled England to get away from? It's up to you because you can get both reads from this. The play commits to almost nothing of value. Politicians could take lessons from this impressive level of noncommittal writing.

A better version of the play would have focused on things that actually matter to canon like the details of finding the miraculous and/or Emilie learning she's sick, but you could only have those details if they were coming from Nathalie or Gabriel. Félix is a terrible choice for a character to tell us the show's backstory because he knows so little of it, thus the play focusing on his largely pointless backstory.

[11cupids-tarot11]

What can help your dreams ★Manifest☆ ?

1 -> 3

︻デ═一・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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♡ Cupids Master-List

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Cash app tag: minnieplant3

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Tarot Deck used: Garbage Pail Kids

Oracle Deck used : The Roast Iconic

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Pile 1- The Devil, Six of Coins in Reverse, The Hanged Man

Oracle cards- "Billionaire: Are you hoarding wealth to fuel your King or Queen Baby dreams? Do not pass Go, do not collect a million dollars, don't even go to jail or pay taxes- think about doing some good and using your hoard to end WORLD HUNGER ALREADY!"

"Black Square: Apparently, you are only down for doing the bare minimum during an incredibly significant time to stand up and advocate for human rights. Drawing this card reminds you that your actions need to not be just performative, they must be based in real knowledge and include follow-through, both online and IRL (in real life). You don't have to be on the front lines, but at this point in history, you can't be silent either."

Hi my pile 1's 😭 I feel like it's been forever I hate being away from my blog for too long cause I start to miss y'all literally lol.

So anyways for your reading today I feel like Spirit is wanting to draw attention to maybe some addictions, self sabotage is what I heard while shuffling the cards. I feel this heavy energy of someone purposely messing up their own blessings in a way I feel like maybe someone's stuck in this very heavy energy but also not really doing anything about it? Like maybe you know something's not good for you, maybe it's a connection or even a job that's tiring you out, it's something along those lines but you just can't stop it, you know? I heard someone needs to do an energy cleanse! I heard take some time off. Maybe someone's drowning themselves in something like studying too much, there's something about over doing something. Someone could have very curly hair here.

So I'm hearing here someone should take the time off and do something fun, relax a little. I think there's a message here also of feeling like you haven't done enough of something and you're obsessing about it mentally a lot and spirit is saying just take a little break from it and endulg in something else, something that makes you happy and makes you feel like you, you know? Even if it's just taking a walk while listening to your favorite music or maybe reading your favorite book and watching your favorite movie, you know? So with the six of coins here I'm also getting a message of like you've worked really hard already and you've done a great job honestly it's okay to rest and not be perfect already already, Rome wasn't built in a day I'm hearing!

The hanged man is just confirmation you've definitely been making yourself sick and stuck by obsessing over this thing. I also feel like maybe you're stuck because spirit is wanting you to see things from a different perspective, like in my garbage pail kid tarot card Wacky Jacky is hanging and all stuck in a tree but while she's stuck she realizes she sees the world in a whole different perspective and it's then new ideas come to her. Approach your goal from a new angle!

I feel like someone here is also someone very important with a very hard position and that might be why you work so hard, you have a lot of pressure on you maybe. Take what resonates!

Hope you enjoyed this reading! Let me know, I love you and take care ♡

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Pile 2- Queen of Wands Reversed, Seven of Wands Reversed and Three of Cups.

Oracle cards- "Troll: Are you a Necessary Evil? Do you feel you must play Devil's Advocate? Or are you someone who hates themselves so much they feel they have to try to get others to feel the same way? If you answered "yes" to one or more of these questions, please seek help or therapy, or get a hobby."

"Bitch: Are you being a Bitch, or just making sure they can't take advantage of you? Stand up for yourself, but make sure you don't steamroll anyone in the process. Do no harm, but take no shit."

Hi pile 2's, hope you're doing amazing 🤩

So right off the bat I'm picking up shy energy lol, someone who's maybe more reserved or introverted. I don't want to say basically Spirit thinks you should be loud or more outgoing but I definitely think you'll go through a time period of weird energy and out of the ordinary situations happening that are forcing you out of your comfort zone. You might not get any more extroverted but I definitely do see branching out might help, sitting with your close friends and just letting yourself let loose or just enjoy the company. You might be someone who people look at and not get the big picture right away, like they have lots of accusations about you but you're kind of closed off so these accusations aren't 100% true because there's more to you than people know, you're just not the type to go and give yourself away that easily. You might be someone who prefers to keep a very close knit group of friends, I heard something about trust issues.

You could be petite, someone who doesn't look like they're very strong and that's what surprises everyone when you finally do show them you are indeed strong. You can be loud and extroverted too I think it's a choice to really be in this shell of yours, maybe it's what's comfortable and that's exactly the problem, when we're too comfortable we don't see the point in changing. Like why fix it if it isn't broken? But you hold great significance, you're just a significant person to the universe and I'm not even sure if you're aware but you are lol.

It's crazy because I'm picking up mixed messages lol, with the Queen of Wands in reverse it makes me feel like someone here is very down and unsure about themselves, needs to take some me time and get away from socializing but with the Three of Cups someone here needs to "stop being alone so much" is how I channeled it, advising you to go out more with the people you love and celebrate, have a good time and just have fun so take what resonates as you know yourself best and what applies to your situation.

With the seven of Wands I'm getting a message of someone who's stressed, you maybe have felt very tired, over worked maybe, even dealing with certain responsibilities or relationship makes us feel tired and all worn out so take this how it resonates. You're on the brink of giving up, maybe you felt like it's not worth it or simply just can't find results you've been wanting to see, maybe this thing is literally killing you because Spirit is stressing you drop it enough to take the stress off you. I wouldn't advise anyone to just give up, but Spirit used such words as "drop it" like maybe the thing you're supposed to drop isn't serving you and that's why it's making you feel so bad. I'm just hearing Spirit even ask if you think all of this is worth it? This is something tough that's been bothering you, it could even be as simple as negative thoughts with all of the wands energy here, I think this is a group in their head a lot always trying to hold themselves accountable and very motivated to just do right. I heard a message that it's hard coming up for new creative endeavors because of all of the negativity in your thoughts holding you back, this energy is blocking your ideas. It's like you vs you almost, I think you have the power to help your dreams manifest all on their own just with your thoughts alone so keep a check for your energy, watch who you share your energy with because it's important and powerful. You're powerful I heard!

I hope you find this helpful! Take care angelz love you! ♡

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Pile 3- Seven of Cups, The Chariot and King of Wands.

Oracle Cards- "Black Square: Apparently, you are only down for doing the bare minimum during an incredibly significant time to stand up and advocate for human rights. Drawing this card reminds you that your actions need to not be just performative, they must be based in real knowledge and include follow-through, both online and IRL (in real life). You don't have to be on the front lines, but at this point in history, you can't be silent either."

"Red Flag: No matter how often you try to bleach the red flags white, they only turn back to red. You have been warned- now PULL ANOTHER CARD!"

"Cult Leader: You are not a guru, a Timelord, or a demigod. You are an egomaniac who needs minions so you can feel like an authority to compensate for your own feelings of inferiority. Grow up!"

Hi pile 3! Hope you're having a fantastic day where you are!

So right away I'm picking up a message of not seeing the bigger picture, this pile feels more like a "How to Manifest more quicker" lol. I'm hearing this very slow moving energy, someone refusing to move on to the next chapter though you might be aware it's time to even but I'm getting a sense of fear. Even if you are unaware of these changes there's still so much anxiety and fear surrounding you at these times because the universe is basically forcing you to move lol! Move or be moved I'm hearing.

So overall I feel like someone in this pile might have lots of distractions, someone might have adhd and a hard time concentrating on tasks. Spirits drawing your attention these times and reminding you to stay focus.

With the Chariot card I feel like there's some movement here that needs to happen, you need to take action. I think that's the best way to help your manifestations right now, maybe someone here even forget exactly what they were manifesting and Spirit is like "Uhh HELLO? DO YOU REMEBER THAT THING??" lol. I heard someone's just been away from the job a little too long, I even get from the Seven of Cups it might've been you were distracted with something else that just sparked your attention better, but all that glitters isn't gold!

So I think you're working on being in this King of Wands energy, someone who is very productive, knows what they want, speaks up about anything, rather it's an idea they have or just wanting authority. I feel like a few of you even might know exactly what this is, I feel like a few of you might not even have a specific dream you want to manifest just clicking on the reading for fun lol but there's still a secretive message here I think you'll understand as you apply it to your situation.

Spirit is asking you to maybe think about the roots you want to plant and start from there, stay true to your craft and perspective and be committed.

I hope you enjoyed this reading! I love you, see you soon ❤️ ★

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Neil!

I don't want to sound like a killjoy, but I'm concerned about David Tennant's family being involved in the second season of Good Omens (or Michael Sheen's partner Anna Lundberg in a future season three). I absolutely have nothing against them, I loved Staged just like everyone else, but this is exactly the matter for me: casting them in the series would automatically make me think about Staged or something else while I'm watching GO, and it would distract me from the plot and the magic of it. It would feel somehow like a family reunion, no matter how talented they are as actors (not to mention that there would be nepotism accusations, above all against David. I hope this won't affect the popularity rating, since season three is still hypothetical). I'm not the only one who thinks this might be an issue, from what I read on blogs here on Tumblr (and on the Internet in general) but I feel like there's a sort of tension, like people are scared to say it out loud, because some fans get the wrong idea and accuse them of hating Georgia or Anna or Ty (and that's why I'm asking this anonymously, I don't want to start a fight). I hope you get what I'm saying, it only felt fair to me to let you know whatever concerns some fans might have, and maybe even give you a perspective you weren't considering? Of course you have the last word on this, and if you think this is not a big deal, I trust your judgement.

I wish you a fantastic day! (And sorry for my English, I'm not native, I tried my best!)

Yeah. So, I find that a little creepy, not very creepy, but definitely a bit.

I thought we were lucky to get Peter Davison in Good Omens 2. (He didn't audition. We offered him the part, as I've been a fan of his since 1978, and All Creatures Great and Small. He crushes it, and is heartbreaking, funny, and still somehow the moral compass of the episode he's in.) Ty Tennant auditioned, along with a number of other actors, and got the part because he did it best. (I didn't know who his family was when we cast him. I just liked the audition tape.)

If you're hunting down family connections, David's mother-in-law, Ty's grandmother, Sandra Dickinson, is in the Audible Sandman, too, as one of the Three Witches/Fates/Eumenides etc. And she was cast in it two years before David Tennant (although probably around the same time Michael Sheen was asked to be Lucifer). (I've been a fan of Sandra's since she was Trillian in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy in 1981.)

Anyway, I'm sorry you're worried about Peter and Ty's performances, although I promise you have nothing to worry about, and I'm sorry that you worry that our possibly casting Georgia and Anna in a hypothetical and not-yet actually a real thing Season 3 might make people think of Staged and make them not able to enjoy Good Omens any longer. (Had I known people were this easily shaken I wouldn't have appeared in Staged either, in case my name at the front of Good Omens shattered the fragile illusion and revealed to people that the David Tennant and Michael Sheen who play Crowley and Aziraphale are actors.)

Starting in 2017 I was the recipient of mind-mangling quantities of Tumblr abuse for casting David Tennant and Michael Sheen as Aziraphale and Crowley, which was, many people made very clear to me, the worst casting in the whole entire utter history of casting, and something that Good Omens would never recover from, because for a start neither of them looked like the versions in people's heads, and I'd also miscast them badly because everyone knew that if you had to cast Sheen and Tennant, Michael had to play Crowley and David had to put on some weight and play Aziraphale. (It wasn't until May 2019 that people stopped grumbling.) So people worrying I'm going to cast Anna and Georgia in a season that hasn't even been commissioned in parts that haven't been written just makes me smile.

I hope this helps.

[lover-of-mine]

it’s so interesting that with previous love interests, it was normal and fine to not ship them and to still want buddie in the future, but now, we have to sit down and shut up and accept that it’s never happening and B/T are forever

oh no wait, it’s not interesting, it’s annoying and confusing and frankly just weird. misogynistic and borderline fetishistic

shipping non-canon couples, especially ones with 6 years of history and love and shared experiences, is the norm in literally every fandom, but now suddenly it’s wrong and how dare we

a fair few of the people saying this are also, conveniently, the ones implying that B’s bisexuality is tied to T and T alone and if we don’t ship them, we don’t support bi!B

how. very. interesting! /annoying/confusing/weird

So interesting. Dude, I got called homophobic because I didn't immediately look at them in 703 and decided they were true love. In 703. Because I didn't look at the shoulder touch and immediately started shipping them. Homophobic with all the letters. I got yelled at. After 703. Legit almost deleted this whole blog over some of the things that got sent. I was legitimately crying with friends who are not in the fandom if I was being unreasonable or insane or whatever else I got called for not jumping in instantly and to ask if I was actually doing something wrong. People were saying we were being weird about queer storylines. That we needed to shut the fuck up and enjoy the way Oliver Stark was gonna make out with a hot guy. That not being on board the ship meant that we had an unreasonable and ridiculous necessity of making sure Eddie was the only guy for Buck. Literally every single person in this fandom hc Buck 1.0 also hooked up with guys. Most people never acted as if Buck needs to be guided through his queerness by this hot older guy. Oh, wait, no, they did. With T. People automatically decided that Buck needed a queer Yoda. That he needed someone to hold his hand and be a guide. They added a fucked up power dynamic from the get go. With no information, Buck was already a baby that needed his hand held through his own sexuality. And let me tell you one thing, I know for a FACT that if it was Eddie, the automatic reaction wouldn't be putting T in this idealized experienced gay guide position when that would've made more sense (not that I think any of them needs a guide) because Eddie is the one with the body count you can count with one hand and a weird relationship with sex. But somehow I'm the one who's weird about Buck's sexuality. I don't want Buck to explore. I need Buck to only have loved Eddie. Sure. Look, I don't wanna multiship. The same way everyone is allowed to ship whatever the fuck they want, I'm allowed to not ship whatever the fuck I want. If it was a woman no one would've been in my inbox basically demanding I make the same level of analysis I make for buddie for them (let me tell you one thing too, if I made the level of analysis I do with buddie with bt, no one would like what I have to say ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯) but I'm still getting asked for it for some reason when I never indicated I ship the two.

But I'm not allowed to have any critical thoughts about anything involving bt or else I'm being weird and that's the mild term that's being used. I can't point out the fact that T left Buck in a curb and failed to communicate shit properly even though it happened in canon. I can't say that I think it felt kinda callous for him to say "they had henleys in the 80s" to Buck being upset T didn't dress on theme (also, the job requires them to change into a uniform by nature, he could've put a colorful shirt and indulged Buck a little bit there without it interfering with the way he was on standby but I can't say that or else I'm a hater). There is no criticism allowed in the ship but somehow I'm the one being weird. I don't think Buck should be in a relationship. I think Buck is still exhibiting the same patterns when it comes to love interests. And yes, I would feel the same way if it was Eddie. Buck doesn't know how to be happy alone and he will never be happy in a relationship until he learns that. I was saying that when it was Natalia and getting praised for my understanding of Buck's character. Now I'm locking Buck onto Eddie. Buck's bisexuality is only valid if he's actively kissing a guy for some people but I'm the one being weird. BT have so many visual parallels to bucktaylor, but if I say that's a bad sign I'm being a hater. I need to sit my ass down, ignore six seasons of buildup, accept that it's over, and that now making Eddie queer and getting buddie together would suck because it would destroy the friendship they built so bt are endgame and gonna get married and somehow I'm the one who's being weird about queer relationships and attaching Buck bisexuality to a person. The fandom lost its fucking mind when they saw Oliver kiss a guy and, yeah, it does feel misogynistic and borderline fetishizing. But somehow I'm the one getting blocked by half the fandom when I'm not even pointing everything I want out. I lose at least one mutual every time I even suggest maybe we should look at things a bit more critically. I have to sit here and justify things to an insane degree while people's reaction to any of the criticism is "uH BuT T Is hOt aNd hE Is a gUy sO It iS DiFfErEnT oKaY?" Critical thinking skills went out the window because now there's a guy involved and that's fucking weird. People are straight up erasing Eddie, the actual main character of the show, Buck's established partner of years, Buck's best friend, the only person in canon who never left Buck in any capacity, because some guy kissed Buck and, he, uh *check notes* treats Buck as an actual human being? so that means he's perfect. It's nuts. The bar is hell.

Yes, I know this is not everyone in the fandom and I know this is not everyone who ships them but if what I'm saying feels like a personal attack to you maybe you should do some thinking. Anyone can ship anything, you want to ship them go off, power to you, the weird part here is the way some people are demanding other people ship it too. We could all be coexisting if people didn't get weirdly comfortable demanding shit from other people in the fandom and deciding their opinion is the only one that matters so they need to call out anyone who thinks differently, but alas, that's too much to ask.

[skyeslittlecorner]

hiyaa!! can i request the king’s reaction to gabriel attempting to kill mc when they aren’t there? he does succeed in slashing their arm a bit, where mc crouches in pain while trying to stop the bleeding.

(your blog is my fav btw i love all of your stuff! <3)

First, let me be a nerd as I explain one thing, because I know that not everyone has been in the fandom from the beginning, and this fact was mentioned in the very first event. Gabriel's scythe kills on touch. It is a gift from god that even kings avoid because just one scratch means death.

I don't know if you were aware of this, dear anon, when you asked for this headcanon (if you wanted a less drastic scenario, please let me know, I'll gladly write a second one!). Get ready for angst.

(And! Thank you for kind words! You have no idea how nice to hear that <;3)

Satan reacted as befitted his sin. Wrath. Rage. Breakdown. A red, thick fog flowed into the streets, only choking the subordinates, but sweeping away the angels. They couldn't stand the mourning that poured out of him, and they died in agony as long as he held your dying body in his arms. This was the only day in the history of Gehenna when the devils lost their will to fight and their king almost followed you into the arms of death, fighting more fiercely than ever before.

You fulfilled your promise. You died to protect Hell. And he failed to protect you. Once you were buried in a beautiful, simple grave, Satan had only one thing on his mind. He promised you that he would be faithful, only yours, for millennia. And he will keep that promise. No lovers, no one-night stands. He couldn't protect you, but he can protect the one you did all this for. Minhyeok and his later children won't even be aware of it, but they have just gained a pure white, red-eyed guardian.

Beelzebub felt you dying rather than saw you. By the time he appeared at your side, it was too late. There was almost no blood flowing, but you both knew that this wound would never heal. He kissed you and whispered soothingly as you died. It was his fault. His damn eternal wandering. If he had stayed, if he had watched you better... You deserved more than being buried among his clones. You should rest with those who, unlike him, did protect you. With your parents. He will show up with your body on Minhyeok's doorstep, hoping that he will get angry and yell at him, but he will only break down in tears over your body. This is not enough for Beelzebub, this is worse than the punishment he expected. He doesn't feel worthy of attending your funeral, but he'll watch from afar anyway.

Your tombstone will always look like new, even for hundreds of years. Intact stone, fresh flowers. There are things that even Beelzebub cannot forget.

Leviathan won't let you die. No, just no. No way. Do not agree. The moment you get hurt, he will catch you in his arms. The face is colder than usual, but the voice is more soothing than ever. "Do not be afraid. You are mine, and I am not letting you go.” He will kiss you one last time and push you into his coffin. Suspended somewhere between worlds, not dead, but not alive either, you will be pushed into eternal sleep, barely remembering who you are.

Leviathan won't stop there, he has to get you back. Only god can save you from death, and if that means this devil has to find him, he will. Anything to get you back to his side. He won't agree to lose another person he loves.

This time Mammon is the spoiled one

MAMMON

The shield you raised could withstand anything - or so you thought, until Gabriel cut through it like a knife through wax. The wound on your forearm was minor. Almost invisible. Still, you stared at it in silence, dazed. You knew what that meant.

A fist sprung in front of your nose a second too late. Shooed the seraph away a second too late. Your life could have been saved. A second too late.

"Master! Are you okay?" Mammon caught up with you and grabbed you in his arms. The grogginess slowly turned into dizziness. You collapsed onto his chest, losing strength.

"He... hurt me." You whispered into his broad chest. His muscles tensed as if ready to attack, but the huge arms lifted you ever so gently. You felt like you were in a huge cradle. The consciousness that slowly drained from your body was glad that it was spending its last moments in these arms.

The king held your limp body for a long time. He couldn't say goodbye to you, he couldn't understand that he had lost you. That you already had left this Hell, and there was nothing he could do about it.

A huge mausoleum was built in the meadow where you died. Gold and silk blinded the inhabitants from afar, outshining the sun itself. Despite the splendor greater than in the palace, everyone considered your tomb to be the poorest place in the world. Mammon visited it every day. He reminded himself that he needed to protect his people better. That he should have protected you better. For the first time in his life he felt real loss.

It was here that Tartaros' greatest treasure was lost.

[mythicmanuscripts]

hello00o Sea!! firstly, I love your blog. it showed me a different way to see BDSM and sub-dom relationships!!! I'm learning a lot and it's even better bc it involves my favorite characters!!

I don't know if you've talked about it before, but I'd love to read your take on Aemond's relationship with his scar and how spouse!reader handles it?? or helps him with it? how it can affect intimacy (at least, at first) anddd all that.

thank you!!!1!!1

(sorry if my english isn't the best, it isn't my first language)

- 🪼

Brilliant question anon!! Don’t worry your English was perfect and I absolutely love this question.

My answer definitely isn’t very explicit but it’s most definitely sub!aemond so I’ll hide it behind a cut just to be safe :)) I'm gonna write this with an arranged marriage but if anyone has ideas about this for any other concept let me know!!!

So I think the best possible way to get Aemond feeling comfortable with showing you his scar is actually to go out of your way to respect him not wanting to take the eye patch off? His entire life he’s had people trying to see what his eye looks like without the eyepatch, he’s spotted servants trying to steal glances while they clean his quarters on multiple occasions.

And then of course there was that evening with the brothel worker on his 13th birthday. She undressed him and took of his eyepatch, not even asking if it was alright. At the time he didn’t know that wasn’t how things were supposed to be done, he thought he just had to be alright with it.

After that night he never ever wanted to show his scar to anyone. He just feels so much more vulnerable when the eye patch is off. That combined with how the brothel worker touched him and moved him and did things to him without him feeling comfortable... he thinks he'll never be close with anyone again, never mind sleeping with anyone and removing his eye patch.

The first time you're alone with Aemond after the wedding, he is so tense that he's practically shaking. You sit down on the bed in your now shared quarters and at first you think Aemond will do his husbandly duties and then leave, but he kinda just stares at the bed and can't seem to move.

So you move to the chairs by the fireplace instead and motion him over to sit on the chair next to yours. He does, and he's still so so stiff, he's sitting straight up, his back not even touching the chair. He is the exact opposite of at ease.

You decide to confess to him that you'd rather not have sex that night, and when you say that it's like you can physically see the weight lifted off his shoulders. You try to think of what you could possibly do now, and so you just take a complete show in the dark and ask him about Vhagar?

He's surprised, but then when you ask again he starts talking about her and how riding feels and everything about it. You smile and ask questions and from there the conversation flows relatively easily.

Once it becomes very late, aemond retires to his own chambers and you retire to yours. He never even touches the bed that day.

Over time you get closer to him and you can see how he's feeling more and more comfortable. You just feel so lucky to be able to see him even a little less composed. He's funny! He's got very quick wit and when you respond back with something equally as witty he smiles and lets out this very soft chuckle. And he's smart! He loves reading, especially about history and you can see his eyes light up as he speaks.

It's that love of history gets you to come up with an idea for your very first 'date' (cause yeah you're married but you certainly don't act like that yet and you've decided to build the relationship from the ground up). You realise that he's clearly so uncomfortable when he walks into your new shared chambers, clearly because of the implications of being in that room with you. So finding ways to spend time with him without being in the bedroom is very important.

You ask him to meet you in the library and then the two of you just sit together and read your own books. You stay there for hours, occasionally reading passages out to each other and discussing different things. The key to this is actually to not sit next to him, to not be touching him at all. There's two couches that face each other in the back of the library and you each take one of them. It's the fact that you're nowhere close to touching him that makes him feel more at ease.

After about a week of this he knocks on the door of your private chambers with two books in his hands and asks if you'd like to read in your shared chambers. You're shocked, but you immediately nod and walk with him. You can see how nervous he is, but you just stay calm and ensure you don't touch him by accident as you walk together.

Once again, you sit on opposite chairs and read your books and read out some passages to each other. He's so much more relaxed than the first time you saw him sitting on the chair.

As you two start to get closer and closer, you notice how Aemond seems almost skittish. So you tell him that you'll ALWAYS ask before touching him, and having you do that means the world to him. He feels so much safer with you then.

When you have your first kiss, Aemond whines into your mouth and shakes and when you ask if you can step closer and he says no, you immediately step back without any complaints. He kinda just stares at you in shock then, because he didnt think you'd actually move. He didnt realise that you'd actually take him so seriously about it.

You don't bring up the eye patch, not even once. You two end up having regular make out sessions and cuddling but you never ever bring up the eye patch. You call him handsome and pretty all the time and you never mention the eye patch. Even when you reach a point where clothes are starting to be shed, you still doesn't ask.

Aemond, meanwhile, is starting to get very confused about why you haven't asked about it yet. Make no mistake, he genuinely loves how the relationship is progressing and how you have this ability to always make him feel safe and secure, but he also doesn't quite understand why you've never questioned him on the eye patch.

He ends up bringing it up one day, maybe after Aegon makes some tone-deaf comment about how you must have to look away during sex when aemond has the eye patch off. Once Aegon finally leaves he asks you about the eye patch, asking why you've never actually asked about it.

You just shrug and say that it's his decision. You explain to him that you know he must be wearing it for a reason and you would never ever push him into showing you anything. You tell him that you could spend the rest of married life without him ever removing the eye patch and you'd be just fine with it.

He doesn't say any more about it at the time, but he spends a lot of time thinking about it and thinking about how insanely privileged he is to have a wife like you.

When he does finally feel comfortable enough to remove it, you ensure not to make a big deal about it? You thank him for feeling comfortable enough to do that and then you carry on as normal. As much as you wish you could take a proper look at his scar and his sapphire eye, you make sure you don't because you don't want him to feel self conscious again and put the eye patch on.

The first time you have sex, he's wearing the eye patch. But then... then right at the end once it's all over, he takes the patch off and cuddles into your chest.

[pillarsalt]

hi um

I was? transmasc but recently I’ve been seeing a lot of really misogynistic sexist transphobic stuff from trans community and it’s just been totally accepted, even by other transmascs. It’s been going on for a while but recently there was a murder of a nonbinary afab person and yet the whole trans community here has been silent, instead screaming about a transfem user being banned or something? This isn’t the first time an afab trans persons suffering has been dismissed, but now right after this awful death, i see transfems making posts about how transmascs talking about their oppression are terfs.

I didn’t want to think about it but all i could think about was that it was weird how despite everyone claiming trans men have all this privilege, trans women always come first…they get the most representation, they get the fame the admiration and the opportunities, their voices are always the loudest and their problems always always come first no matter what.

But despite popular belief trans men’s issues aren’t actually less significant, in some cases we suffer far more than trans women especially in regard to sexual violence. Yet we are silenced. We are frequently left poor, we are discriminated against for our sex we are discriminated against for being trans we are discriminated against for being perceived as lesbians. Yet we are made to be silent?

Why are our voices less important than trans women’s?

And all I could think about was that this is how females are treated in every other area.

I don’t know what else to say… I tried so hard not to reach that conclusion because I don’t want to be transmysogynist but I kept coming back to it and I couldn’t find an argument against it. This is how females are treated. This is what male privilege look like. And if trans women have male privilege, then why the fuck am I sitting here letting them talk over me?

I just feel really really angry. Your a blog who I liked your art but I blocked you when I discovered you were a radfem, but I sort of had you in the back of my mind for some reason and now I feel lost and confused, and I don’t think I want to be part of the trans community anymore.

Hey anon, firstly I really appreciate your willingness to have an open discussion with me. This must be weighing on you pretty heavily.

Secondly, holy shit, you're right. While the entire website is treating this user's ban as a national travesty, I haven't seen a single person talking about Nex's murder despite how much they claim to care about trans people. That's really fucking low, and this situation does very much encapsulate the state of misogyny within the trans community.

And you're right, this IS how females are treated in every other area. Throughout history, the suffering and injustice women face is minimized, laughed at, ignored, and when we want to talk about it, we're shut down and told we're making people uncomfortable and our pain isn't that bad. And here we are again, with a female person's death outweighed by a male person's inconvenience.

The denial of sex-based oppression that permeates trans spaces is a blatant lie that can only be held together if nobody is allowed to acknowledge it, and those who do are punished. If the trans community truly stood behind what they say, discussion would be encouraged! The foundation of their movement would be backed up with facts and replicable science! But instead, they'll call you a bigot for pointing out systems of oppression you can see with your own eyes. Because if you do, transwomen's position as Most Oppressed, and therefore the final authority on what's right and wrong, collapses. You are correct when you say that it seems like transwomen always come first; I don't remember who said it first, but just look at magazine covers featuring trans people -- the transwomen are fully clothed CEOs, athletes, movie stars, but transmen mostly get on magazine covers for... being pregnant and half naked. Misogyny is built into every society on earth, and individuals simply calling themselves something else doesn't change that. And when you give male people free reign to be as misogynistic as they want without consequence, they'll grab that opportunity and hold on like their lives depend on it. The way they weaponize transmen's sex against them is indistinguishable from what 'cis' men do to 'cis' women, but if you ever speak out about it, somehow YOU'RE the one hurting THEM. They do not want transmascs to find solidarity with other female people, because then they would have to face the reality of their own place in a patriarchal world, and face the fact that there are experiences exclusive to female people and that we have the right to speak about it. I mean you see shit like this and the motives become completely transparent:

I do find it funny how hard the trans community and their allies work to prevent anyone from hearing what radfems have to say in case they "corrupt" you with mere words. A lot of the time, it's simply listening to transwomen themselves that sparks the feeling of "something's not right here" in your brain. That's what happened with me too. I'll tell you that most of us also used to be proponents of trans activism, many formerly identifying as trans too. You are seeing through manipulation, and I know it's quite shocking to realize. Even when I first started having doubts about trans rhetoric, I thought "well everyone else agrees about this, so I need to shut up and be nice about it even if I don't agree." It's an unpleasant place to be in. The cognitive dissonance is exhausting though, and it becomes impossible to ignore.

The mistreatment of transmasc people in the trans community by transfems is brutal, and It's hard to watch from the outside because I just want to say "Hey, you know you don't have to take this shit, right?" And you really don't. You are not at all a bad person for recognizing the frankly absurd amount of misogyny in the trans community. Feeling lost and confused is shitty, but it's normal for this situation. The best thing you can do is keep observing, keep reading, form your own opinions, and never let anyone tell you to shut up. Above all, prioritize yourself and your mental wellbeing. If you need to remove yourself from gender-related spaces and discussion for a while, that's totally alright. Just know you're not evil or a bigot for not blindly agreeing with everything the trans community has told you. Your opinions and experiences are worthwhile too.

[ms-demeanor]

sorry if you've answered this before, and i hope you don't mind me asking, how do you know so much about computers and what seems to me like everything in the world? how did you become so knowledgeable? it's amazing

i just know a little about a lot of things and I probably have a fair number of things that I've dug into more than most people and less than people who actually focus on that stuff! It's kind of an illusion!

I do know a lot about computers and that's because I've worked at a computer company for 12 years and have been deep into a computery subculture for about 20 years - I do genuinely know a lot about consumer computers. That I'll own and that's experience.

I know a fair amount about literature because I've got a degree in it!

I know a fair amount about journalism because I've got most of a degree in it and I worked with journalists for a long time!

I know a fair amount about nutrition because I've got most of a degree in it and because I've been focused on reading a lot about nutrition for more than a decade because of my own food issues!

But mostly I'm just someone who falls down rabbitholes and has a decent ability to recall what I find when I run down them.

Also I get curious about things and will just go. Experience them.

Like at some point i came across a site for people who own and use RealDolls and I got interested in learning more. The site required an application because they didn't want people just trolling so I applied and I ended up reading through the whole site and reading the magazines they sent out for years after because it was just interesting. The way these guys bought clothes or compared repair techniques and cleaning techniques, the way they constructed identities for their dolls - it was all interesting! So now I know about the proper way to store a RealDoll and how their skeletons are put together and the best way to prevent rips or clean inserts.

Now imagine that with everything.

I got interested in quack medicine so I ended up reading the entire back catalogs of quackwatch and science-based medicine.

I got interested in the history of aspartame as a scare-word and I ended up reading a couple of books, SEVERAL entire blogs with decades-long runs, purchasing a military magazine from the 90s, and submitting a FOIA request.

But, like. I don't own a RealDoll or work in that industry. I am not a medical professional. I am not a chemist who works with aspartame. So I get these weird little collections of information where I know what *seems* like a lot to someone who hasn't looked into it but I know a lot less than someone who has taken the time to actually dedicate themselves to that topic.

And sometimes it's a years-long dive and sometimes it's a months-long dive and sometimes it's a few hours of me digging online until I feel satisfied with what I've learned and I never come back to it, but I've got three more talking points than your average joe at a party would.

(Also though I've attended various colleges at various levels for ten-ish years now and I've taken probably more college-level classes on a lot of subjects than most people have because I've now spent several years just kind of kicking around at community colleges and deciding that a cartooning class sounds fun or that a mesoamerican art class fills certain transfer requirements or that I might as well brush up on spanish, french, and german. Access to low-cost college classes in california is a big part of this, and having the time and money to take classes while i'm working is something that I've been very lucky with)

I've also worked pretty much continuously since I was 18, sometimes holding multiple jobs at once, and I know a lot of interesting people who do a lot of interesting things and I ask them about their interesting experiences and if they offer me a chance to go do cool shit with them, like launch a high altitude balloon or blow up some dynamite that's about to expire or join a band, I do it!

I was also one of those kids who had no friends and spent too much time at the library so I'd do things like read through medical textbooks or pull a book of home chemical formulas out of the trash and read it or take it into my head that I was going to read all of Shakespeare before I got to high school so I was a really annoying twelve-year-old and that kind of thing never really let up.

I don't know! I don't think it's that unusual and I think most people do this kind of thing I just happen to have less focus than a lot of people and talk a lot more.

[elsa-fogen]

Ok, Rosie headcanon for you!! Might be a slight AU but whatever lol

I like to imagine that Rosie is actually REALLY old. Died in the 1400s or something (maybe for being a suspected witch 👀) , and she just sort of kept up with the times until she found a period that suited her (getting there on that). This also ties into Cannibal Town/Colony name thing!!

Idk how much you know about American history (I know if I didn't live in this crazy country I'd know nothing by choice lol), but in the late 1500s Roanoke Colony was established where North Carolina is now. They struggled with supplies and relations with native people so the founder left to get supplies/help etc; when he came back 5 years later everyone had disappeared without a trace, no graves, bodies, only the word "CROATOAN" carved into a rock. It's a mystery nobody has solved since.

BUT.

WHAT IF.

They ran out of resources, right? What if food ran so low that people began to resort to cannibalism? And things were going so badly that some desperate person tried to summon a demon, anything to help them?

And Rosie, twisted and dark as she may be, took her own sort of sympathy on the poor, struggling colony of Roanoke, and took them all down to Hell as her own colony of souls: Cannibal Colony, leaving Roanoke empty without a trace of its inhabitants. From then on, she just sort of adopted any cannibals who fell into hell as part of her little town, so long as they assimilated and didn't cause trouble. She owns all their souls, yes, but they have some level of peace and security knowing she'll take care of them.

With the "updating culture" thing, I also headcanon that she liked to keep up with the times and stay current until sometime after slavery ended, a little before Alastor arrived (depression era) she didn't like where modern times were headed and just sort of...stopped progress, like a time capsule. Modern times started progressing too fast, and she didn't want everything to be forgotten in the rush to the future, especially the way the human world was looking with the depression. She did rename them to Cannibal Town eventually, since it was more than just her original Colony that gave her Overlord status.

I love Rosie 👁👄👁 sorry for the giant text block lol

P.S. Your art inspires me so much!! And your characterizations are *chef's kiss* I feel like your blog is consistently one I can come to to get canon-accurate character content without facing an onslaught of r********e (finally someone who can't stand it as much as me! Sending all the love 💓

oH WOW! This is really damn good and interesting headcanon! You almost convinced me to change mine to this (well, i like the idea of Rosie being SUSPECTED witch gshssh angssssst yessss). I realized that actually I don't have much that keeps me from just accepting this. Only 2 things

one is that she in her life was fighting for women's rights, and keeps doing it in hell, but i guess she still can even being older.

second one is more important. Rosie and Alastor are roughly same age (30-40 age gap is nothing in hell, were age gaps can be thousands of years) and this is one of the reasons they get along, i think.

Plus in my plot Rosie being a relatively young overlord plays significant role...

But as i said, you headcanon really cool! Maybe i'd use it for some new AU haha

P.S. Your art inspires me so much!! And your characterizations are *chef's kiss* I feel like your blog is consistently one I can come to to get canon-accurate character content without facing an onslaught of r********e (finally someone who can't stand it as much as me! Sending all the love 💓

GAHYHHHAFGS THANK YOU! I'm really happy to know that i'm not alone on this hate board hsbfsdhfj

Here you can be safe, never ever you'll see anything positive about this ship on my blog 😂 (no offence to those who likes it) Love you too 💖💖💖

[myownwholewildworld]

wherever you go (a joel miller’s ff) - chapter 6

chapter 5 | series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 7

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader. (it's actually 2004 now)

summary: after months in the wilderness, you finally arrive at chicago. adapting to this new life has its cons, but also its perks. joel's birthday is around the corner, and you have planned for a couple of things you hope he likes...

a/n: hiya! here's chapter six!! it's packed with a bit of everything, especially drama because why not? 🤷 i want to thank you all ― i just realised that the first 3 chapters have hit over 100 notes each! i'm so damn grateful to all of you, honestly. as much as i'm writing for myself, i'm loving how hooked some of you are with this story 😳 also, i'd like to apologise in advance if i have butchered chicago's layout or its history, i did try my best doing some research. as always, thank you all for engaging. i do appreciate any comments, reblogs and/or likes you may want to leave! even asks/requests if you want to! take care lovelies <3 x

warnings: 18+, mdni. mention of Sarah's death. angst. fluff. filthy smut (don't you know me by now?). porn with plot or plot with porn (however you wanna look at it). irresponsible use of contraception (don't do that). consensual somnophilia. dry humping. unprotected piv. masturbation (m and f). creampie. pussy slapping. fisting. squirting. cum play. a bit of assplay. makeup sex. sir kink. “bar” fight. alcohol consumption. blood. stabbing. swear words. mention of past racist events and the precursor to the chicago race riot of 1919. soft!dom!joel. a bit of aftercare. pet names (darlin’, sweetheart). i'm sure i'm forgetting something lol. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is now 37 (🎉!). no use of y/n.  joel’s and reader’s pov.

w/c: ~6.9k.

tags (let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list pls!): @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrospurplerain @missladym1981 @fancyyoouu @smolbeanzzz

Chicago was definitely not what you had expected at all. Shit had gone down really badly in this place. It took you a week to cross the southwest area, keeping close to Interstate 55 as a reference. The worst you had seen was Chicago Midway International Airport. Airplanes had crashed on the runway, the esplanade was a makeshift cemetery even almost a year after Outbreak Day. Bodies piled on top of each other, fires would break out in the adjacent buildings. The control tower was completely dilapidated. And the grounds were full of clickers.

Tommy, Joel and you made it through the worst neighbourhoods. As you covered more miles, Tommy and Joel realised that this had not been the best idea. But you were already there, so the best option was to move forward. You all had to defend yourselves, and each other. Although the Miller brothers took out many attackers ―humans and infected alike―, you also had your good share of action. You didn’t like it, but you were good at shooting. Your clothes were stained with blood and sweat. You endured, and you survived. That was what mattered.

The whole city was in shambles, divided by two different groups: the government and the rebels. The government held the north side of the Chicago River, from River North Gallery District all the way to Old Town ― basically everything to the east of Interstate 90. The rebels, on the other hand, controlled the south ― all the movable bridges along the whole Wacker Drive, from New Eastside to Chinatown. Anything further south or north, and between Interstates 55 and 90, from Little Village to Naperville, was no man’s land.

You ended up on the rebels’ side randomly. Tommy was not very happy about it, blaming the communists for overpowering the government, but it wasn’t like you had a choice. If you tried to cross any bridge to go northwards, you would be shot at with no warning. From both sides.

It took a while to convince the Rioters ― that was how the rebels called themselves. Two weeks later, on the 20th of August, you were given a place to stay near the Art Institute of Chicago, which was also the operations base. You did try to integrate yourself in this society as you knew it was better to have more friends than foes. The Millers, however, kept to themselves ― Joel more than Tommy, as you had expected. No surprises there.

The flat you were in was in urgent need of repairs but was better than sleeping rough. You and Joel fixed as many things as you both could, while Tommy took cleaning very seriously. It wasn’t much, but it was the place you called home for the last month. The only downside was that it only had two bedrooms, so Joel and you sadly had to share the only double bed available, while Tommy had his own room.

You wouldn’t lie to yourself ― the last four weeks had been pure bliss in a sense. Waking up every day besides Joel had become a delightful habit. He had awakened you many a times either in the middle of the night or in the early morning to give him a hand. Literally. And you had done exactly the same thing when you had needed it. You were sure Tommy was sick and tired of you two, but you didn’t care.

You stretched out, still lying in bed. The morning light had not come through the curtains yet, but it soon would. You rubbed your eyes and then let your arms drop to your sides dramatically. You were not a morning person, but your sleeping schedule was all fucked up. You rolled to your other side in an attempt to get comfortable.

Joel was sleeping on his right side. You had noticed he usually did in the same position. When you had asked him why, he had explained his hearing in his right ear was messed up since his suicide attempt. You wished you could have been faster that day to prevent the gun from going off. Ah, the regrets you both had…

His back was towards you, him facing the door. Despite the repairs you all had done to the flat, it was still not the safest. Every night one of you would make sure all locks were engaged and would bar the front door. A few days ago, someone attempted to break in. Since then, all of you would sleep with a firearm nearby.

Today was Sunday ― 26th of September. Which meant it was Joel’s birthday, as well as the first anniversary of Outbreak Day. The anniversary of Sarah's death would be tomorrow too. You had tried to talk to Joel about today, but he didn’t seem to be interested in celebrating at all, which you completely understood. As much as you wanted to do something, you respected his decision. You had only planned for a couple of low-key things, which you hoped he wouldn’t mind.

He had fallen asleep only with his briefs on, the bedsheet draping around his legs. You couldn’t see, but you were damn sure he had his arms crossed at his chest, always on guard. Your eyes dwelled on his upper body, two perfect dimples on his lower back. His shoulders were broad and toned, his waist smaller. He was not the most muscular guy you had ever seen, but he was perfect the way he was. His calloused hands had shown you multiple times how good he was for you, despite what he thought of himself.

You couldn’t resist, your mouth dry. Your fingertips traced the curve of his neck, then his left shoulder down to his elbow. Your hand caressed his left hip and slipped down to his front, following his V line. Your fingers touched the elastic of his briefs ― and something else.

You gulped down the knot in your throat, your heart beating harder in your chest, when your fingertips brushed over the damp tip of his cock. Joel’s morning wood was so prominent, his glans had slipped out of his underwear and was showing. You wetted your lips as you stroked him carefully. A deep, almost guttural growl flowed from Joel’s chest.

You got closer to him in bed, your nipples grazing the skin on his back even through your pyjamas. It probably wasn’t the best time ― you knew he was tired, but you wanted him so badly. Liquid fire was pooling in your furrow, knowing his erection was right there for you to play with.

Your internal battle didn’t last long.

You pulled down his briefs to free his warm dick. You didn’t need to look to know his shaft was resting against his happy trail, the head touching his belly button. With no hesitation, you wrapped your fingers around his cock, squeezing him delicately. Then you slid your hand down his meaty column, holding him firmly, in a very slow but strong pump.

He groaned, still asleep as far as you could tell, as you started pumping him ― more heat and excitement gathering in your pussy. You dunked your fingers in your panties, touching yourself. You were already wet, the mere thought of making him yours was enough. You kissed his left shoulder at the same time he uncrossed his arms ― his left hand over yours, feeling the rhythm you were imparting on him.

He was awake.

Joel didn’t remember what he was dreaming about, but he was sure it wasn’t this. When he looked down and saw your tiny hand trying to muffle his cock, he closed his eyes with a sigh. That felt damn good. He was knackered after last night’s patrolling shift, but this was exactly what he needed to decompress.

He turned around, his back flat against the uncomfortable mattress. His eyes were pinned on yours, your sweet hand upping the speed. You leaned towards him and invaded his mouth with your devilish tongue. Joel moaned in the middle of the kiss ― his brain completely switched off. He could not think straight when you were handling him like that.

Quickly letting go of his erection and mouth, you got rid of your pyjama shorts and your underwear. Then you doubled down your efforts with the handjob ― his throbbing cock was calling for you. You could see a few drops of precum sliding off his veiny shaft, which you swiftly gathered with your thumb to rub them against his leaking slit. You felt his dick pulsating hard for you ― your cunt palpitating at exactly the same time, anticipating. Your bodies were fully synchronised.

You then climbed on top of him, his balls welcoming the touch from your puffy lips. You rolled your hips against his, looking for that friction you so much loved, and took a deep breath before taking off the top of your pyjamas, throwing it to one side. You bended down, your mouth looking for his, so thirsty.

“Good morning, handsome”, you whispered as a greeting.

“Mhmmm”, was the only thing he managed to hum, sleepy.

You smiled and broke off the contact, straightening your back. His rough hands slid from your knees, across your thighs, to your butt. He clasped your ass cheeks with assertiveness. With no more words than those, you took his steely cock in your hand and lifted your hips. You glided his glans over your damp fold a few times, your cunt beseeching to be stuffed.

You guided his tip to kiss your entrance and descended on his dick slowly, very slowly, the palms of your hands flat against his lower abdomen to steady yourself. You closed your eyes, head tilted backwards, and whined loudly. Each inch was a blessing. Once his cock was entirely inside of you, you peeked back down at him and did a circular motion with your hips. His eyes were so intense you couldn’t look away while you started riding him.

Joel closed his eyes unwillingly when the muscles in his lower belly cramped. He didn’t want to miss a single second of this, so forced himself to open them again ― he loved seeing how the pleasure transformed your beautiful features. Your half-lidded eyes, your lips parted, a river of pearly sweat coming down in between your bosom. Your perfectly round breasts bouncing in front of him. He was a lucky bastard.

He liberated your ass, his hands drifting to your bust, holding your tits. While he kneaded that tender flesh and coddled your nipples, you covered his hands with yours. You were still jumping on top of him, albeit more erratically, as you felt an orgasm hit you with full force. You mewled as your needy pussy discharged the seed of your pleasure all over him, hugging his hard erection, strangling his cock, encouraging him to come with you.

Joel was so damn close to coming, his nuts contracted with equal parts of pain and lust. He could feel your gush soaking his dick. He was about to lose his goddamn mind ― he needed to stop. His hands abandoned your breasts to place them on your butt to help you lift it up, so you would release his cock before it was too late.

“No, it’s okay. Fill me up, please, sir”, you wailed, your palms against his chest, your hips grinding against his.

Joel glimpsed at you with doubt. It was like you could read his mind, because you knew what he was thinking. You smiled softly, your wet pussy palpitating around his cock. You forced your inner walls to contract against him as you leaned forward to kiss him.

“I’ve got the morning after pill. Please, please, Joel, come inside, I beg you. Trust me”, you wept, laying down on top of him.

He thought himself mad for believing you, but he did. Because he was mad for you, regardless of what he tried to convince himself of. He lifted your butt up off his lap with his hands ― with the help of his legs, the heels of his feet against the bedsheets, he thrusted into you like a madman while you remained still on top of him. Drilling your weeping cunt, as hard and fast as he could. He just wanted to know how it felt just once; he wanted you to milk him dry.

Joel fucked you like there was no tomorrow, the room echoing with the squishy sounds and the impact of flesh on flesh. He was fucking you so hard that you came again at the same time he spilled his spent in you ― Joel groaned like you never heard him before. The slick warmth you felt inside made you smile, your face buried in the curve of his neck, your nipples brushing his. With his pulsing dick still inside of you, you bit the skin on his neck, leaving a mark behind.

“Happy birthday, sir”, you whispered in his ear.

That was your gift to him. And to yourself, because you had wanted this from the very first time he impaled you in the forest. You had had to trade a few bits for the morning after pill, but it was worth every single one of them. You felt your cave so clogged with him and his cum, you thought you had descended to hell.

You both stilled, catching your breaths. His dick was still twitching, housed by your greedy, soaked cunt.

A minute later, he sat up on the bed, bit your mouth and lifted your butt up, his cock becoming free. He quickly laid you down in fetal position ― resting on your righthand side, back slightly curved, head bowed, your knees bent touching your breasts. He placed a hand on your left hip and tilted your pelvis a bit forward, so he could inspect your heart-shaped ass and your puffy, reddened pussy framed by your inner thighs.

Just in time to see his cum gushing out of your hole, dripping across your perineum and then going downwards, skidding through your butt cheek. One of his digits caught the semen before it hit the bedsheets, retraced its steps back and shoved the cum back inside of you with the push of his finger.

“You can’t waste my gift to you, baby, it’d be so fucking rude of you”, he purred in your ear, his voice coarse and warm at the same time.

He laid on his side behind you, moving his index in a circular motion, looking for your g-spot and finding it. He stroked it dextrously, sliding it in and out slowly. You closed your eyes, and fisted the bedsheet in your hand, trying to hold onto something. Your mouth shaped a perfect ‘O’ when he bottomed out, quickly adding a second finger. And a third. Then a fourth.

It didn’t take long for your pussy to adjust to such delightful intrusion ― your inner walls felt like clay, reshaping around him. Joel could feel you relax around his fingers and took the chance, introducing his thumb in your pussy too. Now his entire hand was buried in your fluttering cunt, down to his wrist. He remained still for a hot minute while your muscles loosened up to house him.

Then he slowly started to pump his fist inside of you, back and forth, building up a steady pace. Joel bit your shoulder and then kissed it ― his tongue tasting the saltiness of your sweat.

By that point you couldn’t stop moaning very loudly ― the whole building was probably listening to your whoring screams as Joel fisted you relentlessly with his whole hand. Each push propelling his cum further inside of you as if he wanted it to take. He was thrusting you so harsh, your entire body was rocking back and forth on the bed. He was fucking you senseless just with his hand ― and you were loving every single second of it.

Your sticky cunt couldn’t take it for much longer ― it was wet, pulsating, contracting, overstimulated, yearning… Your pussy literally was his, and only his. The orgasm had been building up for so long now that when you let it go, weeping at the top of your lungs, it hit you like a motherfucking truck. Your whole body went into shock while you squirted ― you were shaking due to the force of your own release. For fuck’s sake, you could barely breathe.

You whimpered again when he removed his hand and rubbed your wetness all over your delicate folds. Before you could form a coherent thought, he spanked you on your crotch so firmly it tingled ― you almost died and went to heaven right there and then, biting into the pillow underneath your head. He kept on slapping your quivering cunt until your sensitive clit twitched one last time with devastating pleasure, contracting your uterus so the last trickle of cum oozed out of you. He caught it with his thumb and brushed it gently against your asshole, caressing the tight ring, until you fully relaxed.

You sighed, unable to move. You even felt dizzy. Your limbs felt so limp you didn’t think you could sit up, so you just stayed there, melting against the bedsheets. You hadn’t realised your eyes had welled up until a few tears ran down your cheeks. Tears of complete, utter joy ― there was no other way of describing it.

You were so damn grateful for this man, you swore to yourself you would never let him go. You had been with others, but none of your sexual partners had been so fucking attentive. Joel would always make sure you were completely satisfied, without fail. And that said a lot about him.

You rolled onto your back to look at him, wiping away the tears with a satisfied smile and dreamy eyes. He was still lying down on his side, his elbow against the bed, his head resting on the palm of his hand. He returned your smile ― such gesture transforming his rugged face. So gorgeous it tugged at your heart.

“Y’know, it was supposed to be all the way around today ― me fucking you until you begged”, you confessed, although it was not a complaint.

He grinned, his hand possessively cupping your mound. You parted your legs slightly so he could massage your sensitive furrow. It felt so calming after all that pussy-slapping he gifted you with.

“As redundant as it sounds, plans rarely go according to plan, sweetheart”.

Understatement of the fucking year, you thought.

You just laughed while his hand was still kneading your sticky flaps. Joel kissed your forehead before he took out his hand from in between your legs, your damp, intimate skin being swept by the cold air.

“The morning after pill?”, he asked a minute later.

“I got it from Kelsey, it’s in date. Don’t panic, it’s okay. I have three days to take it. Which made me think… I don’t need to do it straight away, right?”, you glanced up at him, a wide smile on your lips.

“Mhmm, I mean, it would be a waste otherwise, I guess”, he replied, tucking a stray hairlock behind your ear. “But I need a minute here, darlin’. You work miracles, but even I have limits. Wait up”, he mumbled grumpily as he palmed his left wrist, and then got out of bed while he tucked away his member back in his briefs.

Joel headed towards the en-suite bathroom. He came back out only a few seconds later ― you could see panic in his eyes. You sat back up on the mattress quickly.

“What is it, Joel?”, you asked with worry, kneeling on the bed.

“My wristwatch, I can’t find it. I am sure I left it by the sink before I came to bed last night. I can’t lose it. I can’t”, he was now frantically searching his bedside table, panic growing in his tone.

You bit down your lip, because you knew where it was. In the drawer of your nightstand. You had taken it in the middle of the night because your second present was getting it repaired for him today.

“I have it”, you whispered, shrugging with an apologetic smile.

“What? Why?”, he approached you, extending his hand towards you, his tone so serious. “Give it back now”, he almost growled at you.

His reaction took you completely off guard. Why was he so possessive over a broken watch? Trying to understand the sudden change in Joel, you opened the drawer and took it out.

“I just wanted to get it fixed for you, as a gift”, you didn’t understand what was happening.

“You have not fixed it, have you?! Because if you have―”, he snatched it off your hand, inspecting it.

You frowned ― his attitude towards you was completely off. What the hell was going on?

“Don’t you dare touch my fucking things, is that clear?”, he snapped.

You looked at him blankly, speechless. Then your own temperament started to shimmer under the surface.

“Wow, wow, wow ― Calm the fuck down, Joel. It’s just a broken, useless watch―”, you stopped yourself because of his perplexed look.

“Shut up. It’s not just any watch. You don’t fucking understand”, he yapped.

“I would try and understand if you just fucking explained it to me?!”, you shouted at him while you got dressed. “What is your fucking problem, Joel? What’s up with that watch? I don’t read minds!”.

“Forget it”, he grumbled, strapping the watch to his wrist before putting his trousers on and grabbing a T-shirt, heading towards the door.

“That’s it? You just up and leave?”, you repressed the urge of throwing a pillow to his head.

“I’ve got stuff to do”, he muttered.

A few seconds later, you heard him opening the front door. Then he slammed it shut.

It was around lunchtime now and you had not seen Joel since this catastrophic morning. While you had the impression that Joel’s reaction was due to something he would not speak about, he had no fucking right to treat you that way. You were just trying to do something nice for him, that was all.

You walked through the main hallway of the Art Institute of Chicago. It was rammed with people running around ― some armed, some not. You didn’t think that humanity would prevail in big groups in such circumstances, but it did.

The Rioters had established some sort of order. People had tasks to do, everyone working together to build up a community. Chores were allocated according to people’s skills. Joel had been put on patrolling shifts, Tommy was helping with carpentry and other building jobs, and you were in the hunting group. As much as you hated pulling the trigger, you were a very good shot. All thanks to your good old Texan father.

You were on your way to check with the group if there were any plans of going out today when you got interrupted.

“Hey”, someone tapped you on the shoulder.

“What’s up, Joyce?”, you looked at the older woman when you turned around.

Joyce was around fifty five years of age, maybe more, and was the kindest soul you had ever met. She had welcomed you to Chicago like a mother a daughter. Joyce showed you around, explained how the Rioters worked and guided you in the right direction. Because as good as everything looked, there was still darkness lurking around.

She was also the best cook ever. Like, no jokes, she could transform a tasteless rabbit in the most flavourful stew your tastebuds had ever been in contact with.

“I just finished cooking, do you want some stew?”, she asked with a warm smile.

Your stomach growled at the mere idea.

“Fuck yeah”, you replied ― your duties could wait, surely.

“Watch your language, kiddo”, Joyce reprimanded you.

“Sorry, sorry”, all that time you spent with Joel was showing.

You followed her to the canteen and patiently waited for Joyce to pour some stew in a bowl. You then went with her to a table where more people were sat down. You didn’t know any of them, so Joyce introduced you. You were damn sure you weren’t going to remember one single name by the time you walked out the door.

“So, you’ve never heard the story of Eugene Williams?”, one of the men asked rhetorically to a younger fellow across the table, who shook his head in reply. “He was a black kid in 1919, when racial segregation was still in place here in Chicago. The summer of 1919 was so hot the kid wandered off to the white side of Chicago beach without realising. A man threw stones at him until the kid drowned and died. That was what ignited the Chicago Race Riot of 1919 ― and why we, the resistance, go by the Rioters”.

You listened to every word while you ate your meal. After hearing that explanation, many things made sense. Although they named themselves the Rioters, there were no riots in the streets ― actually, people seemed happy here, given the circumstances.

“That’s right, Walter, younger people need to learn about the past, so those mistakes are never repeated again”, said Joyce.

The conversation then moved on to present times, the people talking about the continuous fight against the so-called government.

Joel got the afternoon patrolling shift that day, which he thought was a killer, considering he did the night shift last night. But it was good in a sense ― it would keep his mind occupied. You had angered him so much this morning, it had set his mood for the rest of the day. The thought of you erasing that memory had maddened him so bad, he had to walk out before he said something he would later regret.

That watch was the only anchor chaining him to what little remained of his humanity. A gentle reminder of what could have been but wasn’t. Every day he wondered how Sarah would be doing in this new world. And most days, he was just somewhat grateful she wasn’t here to see what had become of civilisation. The unspeakable horrors she would have witnessed and suffered but didn’t ― it was very little consolation to a father, but it was better than nothing.

He absentmindedly touched the watch on his wrist, ensuring it was properly fastened.

Joel was stationed with other people in front of Bataan-Corregidor Memorial Bridge. In those long, never-ending hours, there was no activity on the other side of the bridge, but they had to remain vigilant nonetheless. By the time the next group showed up, it was already half eight in the evening.

Joel headed towards the headquarters to sign off and go home. He was already on edge, thinking about what he would say to you to appease you. Because he was damn sure you would be waiting for him, ready to pick up the fight where you both left it. As Joel walked past the canteen, he heard a familiar voice.

Tommy was on his feet, yelling at a man, his accusatory index pointing to the guy. Joel rolled the eyes to the back of his head ― he was sure his brother was so drunk he would probably not remember any of this the next day. Joel shook his head with disappointment ― some things would never change, not even when the world had gone to shit.

He planned to ignore the situation and get back home to you, when a fight started. Joel groaned in despair, debating what to do. But a man chose for him ― he saw how a bloke approached Tommy from behind, knife on hand, and he knew he had to do something. Joel quickly closed the distance in stride and grabbed the man from the neck of his shirt, pulling him backwards until the dude stumbled with his own feet.

Madness broke out, the whole canteen becoming a battling ground. People were fighting each other over absolutely nothing, throwing punches in the air.

“Tommy!”, he shouted angrily, while the younger Miller turned around and simply smiled.

That fucking pissed him off big time.

“Are you fucking out of your mind? How much have you been drinking?!”, Joel wanted to punch his brother so bad, he really had to control himself.

“Not enough”, he babbled.

As Joel approached his brother, ready to fight him if necessary, the man he had pushed away from Tommy tapped his shoulder. When Joel turned around, the dude punched him in the face and then stabbed him in the lower stomach.

Joel froze for a second, his back slightly curved, his brain coming to terms with what just had happened. He looked down while his hand gripped the handle of the knife. He knew not to remove it because it was the blade what prevented him from bleeding out. Then Joel glanced back up at the same guy and, without thinking, he removed the knife from his flesh and sticked it on the man’s shoulder with a growl.

Joel’s wound started to bleed like a pig in a slaughterhouse. Not that he noticed anyway, because hell literally broke loose.

It wasn’t late late, only ten in the evening, but none of the brothers was around when you returned home, which was weird. You could understand if Joel was avoiding you, but Tommy? You frowned as you called for them, shutting the main door behind you. Nothing, no reply at all.

Before you could walk to the living room to see if there was a note or something, someone knocked on the door.

You looked through the peephole. Joyce was standing outside, worry wrinkling her aged face. You opened the door.

“What’s the matter, Joyce?”

“It’s Joel, he’s in the infirmary”, she whispered while placing a soft hand on your forearm.

You just stared at her, bewildered.

“Huh? The where?”, you repeated, while her words started to sink in, your stomach contracting with fear.

“Come with me, kiddo”, Joyce took your hand, guiding you through the apartment building.

The next time you blinked, you were in an outbuilding outside the headquarters. Joyce palmed your hand with hers, in a calming gesture, while she took you to the far end of the shelter. The old lady planted you in front of Joel’s bed, and let go of you with a “take care”.

You stood there for a long minute, still trying to grasp what the hell had happened. He was asleep, his head slightly tilted away from you ― or so you hoped he was. Joel had no shirt on, a bloody bandage covering the right side of his abdomen. You got closer, your heart pounding in your throat.

“He’s fine, it’s just a scratch”, you looked up, befuddled.

Tommy was sitting in a plastic chair on the other side of the bed. He was crouching forwards, his elbow against his knee, head pressing against the palm of his hand. Tommy then smiled, which completely perplexed you.

You were about to reply, but suddenly Joel did instead.

“Fuck off, Tommy. Get your ass somewhere else”, he gritted his teeth.

You hadn’t noticed it yet, but you had been holding your breath, because suddenly you felt a stone being lifted off your chest. You glanced at the younger Miller, who had gotten up with a smile. When he walked past you to go outside, you smelled it. The stench of alcohol made you wrinkle your nose unconsciously.

Joel wrapped his fingers around your wrist to get your attention, so you turned around to look at him, so confused you couldn’t even form a sentence. Joel had already adjusted the pillow on his back so he could be somewhat sat up.

“It’s alright, no need to cry”, he said raising one of his hands to sweep away your tears.

You had not realised you were crying. Giving it a second thought, you probably had been since you left home. You pursed your lips and nodded, quietening your sobs.

“What…?”, you muttered, resting your cheek against his palm before placing a kiss on it.

“Tommy got into a fight in the canteen. He’s so drunk he probably won’t remember a thing tomorrow. A man tried to stab him, and I got in the way ― that’s all, sweetheart. No serious damage, just some stitches”, he tried to calm you.

You wished Tommy was still in the room, because you would have loved to slap the shit out of him for being so irresponsible. What the hell was he thinking? Joel was hurt because of him, and he had just left smiling as if it wasn’t so serious.

“Just leave him be, it’s worthless trying to speak to him in such a state”, something in Joel’s voice told you this wasn’t the first time he had been in this situation.

“Are you sure you’re fine? Joel, please, don’t lie to me―”, you mustered, trying to keep your tears in check, as you caressed his cheek.

He heavily sighed as he scooted over to one end of the tiny bed, leaving enough space for you to join him. You got on the gurney quickly, nestling against him, your arm across his chest in a half embrace. His body heat calmed your nerves a bit, although your hands were still shaking.

“I’m fine, I’m not lying. They won’t let me leave yet though, the nurse said I need to stay here for a couple of hours, until she’s certain the bleeding has stopped”, he explained, his fingertips tracing the shape of your right shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere”, you said with a small voice, your left cheek against his chest.

Joel didn’t fight you on that, so you stayed by his side. His left hand was resting just below your face, his broken watch strapped around his wrist. You bowed your head a bit and kissed his knuckles.

“I’m sorry about this morning, I thought fixing your watch was a nice thing to do, considering it’s been broken since I met you”, you tried to explain yourself, but Joel hushed you by cupping your chin so your eyes would meet his.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I know you meant well. It’s just…”, you heard him gulp down, as if the next words were extremely painful to say out loud. “Sarah fixed this watch for me on my last birthday. It’s been stuck at 2.40 AM since… since we both got shot. One of the bullets broke it”, he recounted in a husked voice, his brown eyes focused on the timeless sphere.

Then it hit you. That was Sarah’s time of death. And, unknowingly, you almost ruined the last memento Joel possessed of his daughter. His most precious treasure. You felt sick to your stomach at the mere idea of being responsible for such a thing. Had you known, you would have never even considered doing what you had planned.

“Gosh, Joel, I’m sorry. I swear to you I didn’t know”, you breathed out desperately.

“I know, baby. I should have told you that instead of getting angry and for that I apologise, but I just couldn’t…”, he clenched his jaw, and you tried to soften his expression with the touch of your fingers.

“Don’t apologise, please”, you kissed his bearded jaw and remained in comfortable silence for the next two hours, until Joel was finally discharged.

The next day you both stayed home. Tommy had tried to apologise when he came back to his senses, but Joel was having none of it. The younger Miller eventually understood that his brother just needed space until he decided to forgive him and gave up in his efforts. You were alone with Joel all day, making sure he was okay and helping him clean the wound. Those stitches were going to leave a nasty scar on him, but it was better than the alternative. It was healing well, no signs of infection, for which you were so pleased ― probably more than him. You almost had to tie him to the bed so he would stop fidgeting around ― Joel was going to get the wound open again if he didn’t remain still for a bit.

You knew Joel was just trying to keep his brain busy because this day marked a year since Sarah was wrongly snatched from his life. That was why he was so taciturn and quiet today, and you let him be for the most part.

When he sat down on the couch in the afternoon, you just nestled against his body, in silence, his arm affectionately enveloping you.

Nighttime came around soon enough, and you both got into bed. Joel spooned you as soon as he laid down behind you, his right arm hugging you, his chest against your back. You soon fell asleep in his warm embrace, feeling protected and content.

Joel woke up a few hours later, one of his recurrent nightmares haunting him. He grumbled in displeasure and got out of bed to change the dressing over the wound. He did so efficiently and returned to bed, slipping under the bedsheets quietly.

Another hour went by, and he was still awake, his eyes on the ceiling.

He rolled onto his left side and saw you sleeping peacefully, in the exact same position you fell asleep. You had not moved one inch. Joel smiled softly as he got closer to you, sliding his arm around your waist and dragging you over to him, looking for your soothing warmth.

Unconsciously, you wiggled your hips to bury your butt in his bulge, and Joel contained a pitiful moan. Your perfectly round ass was innocently embedded in his groin. Now he was sure as hell he was not going to be able to fall back asleep. Irremediably, he pressed his manhood against your buttocks again, looking for that friction.

Joel felt his cock tense up, an erection taking hold. He freed his manhood, slowly pumping himself ― his leaky tip brushing your asscheek until a wet patch adorned your panties. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t resist. You were all curled up, drooling on the pillow, faintly snoring, your knees slightly bent. He cut the distance between you and shoved his dick in your thigh gap, his shaft rubbing against your pussy covered by your underwear.

Sweat gathered on his brow as he rocked his pelvis back and forth, your thighs sweetly compressing his cock ― the tip feeling cold when it overhung on the other side. Joel kissed your shoulder, his hand gently placed on your hip to steady himself.

“C’mon, baby, wake up”, he husked near your ear, gently nibbling your earlobe.

You hummed, half awake. You felt your body being rocked, your eyes fluttering open and looking downwards. Through half-lidded eyes, you saw Joel’s glans sticking out through your thigh nook, then disappearing from sight to reappear again. You smiled pleasantly, shutting your eyes, as you felt your needy cunt melt for him. You pursed your lips with delight.

“Can I have my birthday present again, sweetheart?”, he whispered in a constrained tone.

You nodded, scatterbrained.

You were drenching your underwear so bad, there was a visible damp, darken spot right in the middle. Joel pulled back from in between your legs and pushed the bridge of your panties to one side. He lodged his cock in between your puffy lips, sliding it through your entire slit a couple of times to douse himself with your fluids.

“You’re soaking wet, baby”, he muttered as you let out a soft moan when Joel pressed his tip against your dripping hole, your flesh parting as the Red Sea.

Then Joel slowly pushed his hard cock in inch by inch down to his balls. His right arm hugged you, poising you in place and sneaking his hand under your pyjama top to hold one of your full breasts. He stilled for a second, feeling your cunt sheathing him like a warm glove. He thrusted once, twice, thrice. You lost count after that, Joel plunging into you from behind, gaining erratic speed. You grasped the bedsheet in your fist, your spit pooling on the pillowcase.

You placed a hand on your mound and a few seconds later, you slipped it under your panties. With the palm against your clit to cause some grinding, you could feel Joel coming in and out of you in between your index and middle fingers. Your gushing cunt started palpitating around his slick cock, your inner walls squeezing him hard as you came, mewling like a kitten in heat.

Joel quickly followed you, his cum filling you up, breathing roughly behind you. You tilted your head towards your right to look at him over your shoulder. He kissed you, first gently, then more demanding, while his dick was still throbbing with the last wave of his release. Joel pinched your nipple before freeing your mouth.

“There you go, sweetheart, so you don’t forget who you and your tight pussy belong to”, he groaned as he pulled out of you.

“Thank you, sir”, you said gratefully.

Joel put your underwear back in place and pressed the palm of his hand against your wet panties, his cum trickling out with yours and swamping the piece of clothing even more, saturating it, almost as if you had pissed yourself.

“Go back to sleep, darlin’”, he kissed the nape of your neck, his hand still lodged in your thigh gap, hard pressed against your satisfied, clothed pussy. You loved how possessive he was of you, literally claiming your cunt for himself at every chance he got.

With a pleased sigh, you tucked your hands under your head and fell back asleep within seconds.

The earth was round again.

[chxrrydrxp]

Hello hello hellooo! Always wonderful to see another Jason Todd writer in this world, I love this man so much. I’m a bit new to your blog, so I…the idea of getting to come home to Jason on the rare occasion that he’s not out on a mission or patrolling. I know that man is the snuggliest mfer alive and getting to just collapse ontop of him after a long ass day and hear him grunt under you and curl his arms behind your back. Augh. AUGH. Please. I need this man in every possible way 😭

You can write something if you like but just the idea alone is so nice to think about. I need that man carnally but also I need him softly and to giggle tiredly in his chest.

ugh I needed this so badly. this bipolar ass weather has got me in shambles, and I require some comfort.

hope you like it 🤭🤭

(I'm getting to my asks yall just hang in there 💅🏾)

(gender-neutral reader x Jason Todd, fluffy comfort)

word count: 511

Harsh winds blew past your face, causing your nose to burn. This had to be the roughest winter in Gotham’s history. You'd just barely made it to the apartment door, and began clumsily fumbling for your ice-cold keys. your purse snapped open, releasing all your belongings with pop.

“Fuuuuck me.”

A shivering arm reached down for the belongings, scooping them up into frozen hands.

You stuffed them back in your purse and once again fumbled for your keys. Another gust of wind blew aggressively while burning your face, causing curses to fall out of your mouth.

After many vain attempts, you finally managed to get the key into the lock while the coldness burned at your fingertips. click!

“Fina-fucking-lly.”

You swung the door open, throwing yourself inside and shutting the door. You leaned back on the door, trying desperately to alleviate your frozen fingers. The only thing that could make your day worse was the fact you knew Jason would usually be on patrol tonight, and wouldn't be here to warm you up.

You untied your snow boots, and hung your jacket up reluctantly. The apartment was actually warmer than you expected. Jason must've accidently left the heater on when you left.

You opened the door to your room, and found him lying on his stomach with a pillow over his head.

“About time, baby.” His groggy voice sent butterflies to your stomach.

A relieved smile crept on your lips and you practically leaped on the bed. “You're home? Hours early?” Jason turned over onto his back, with his hands tucked behind his head. “Ya don't seem too happy, i'm just taking a little day off ” he teased, poking at your cheek. “I'm more than happy, but what happened to ‘crime has no days off’?” You questioned, changing into a shirt and sweats. “I could go now if you want me to.” You rolled your eyes at him, picking up a pillow and playfully smothering him with it.

“Asshole.”

“C'mere,” he motioned, holding his arms out for you. You sighed contently, climbing into his open arms, and feeling the warmth of his hands clasped around your back.

You dug your nose into his neck, inhaling his musky scent and familiar body wash. “Smells so good.” He let out a breathy laugh and rubbed up and down your back.

His hands moved up to your hair, stroking it softly, then down to your cheek, making you lift your head up slightly. He took this opportunity to press his lips to yours, humming.

“I missed you.”

You smiled, leaning back to kiss him, but he had other plans. He flipped you over so your back was pressed into the mattress and he was laying on you partially. He snuggled his head into your warm chest, wrapping his strong arms around your waist.

“Hmm..this is…better,” he hummed. You grinned, surprised at his clinginess. You hugged your arms around his head and ruffled his hair a bit.

Your heart raced, and you were sure he could feel it, feeling him smile against your chest.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hi! I love your theories, and I spent too long reading everything I could find on your blog on Harry and V specifically, and bc I fell into a ship hole and can't seem to get out, here's a random question for you! Do you ship Tomarry or Harrymort in any way? Is it believable for you that it could happen? I mean, most of the time people tend to ship hermione with Tom Riddle, with the excuse that she's super smart, but I think Tom Riddle would despise her actually. Harry's not book smart, but he's very intuitive, he's clever and he's cunning, they could fit I think 🤔. Also they have shit lives, and they've been through similar things (not everything), and that'd enable them to understand each other and all. And Harry is annoyingly stubborn, so Tom/V would have a hard time manipulating him or forcing him by other means (like spells or potions), and he's observant and suspicious enough to notice random little clues and trusts his instincts so he wouldn't be blindly in love either? Sorry I'm rambling, I'd like to hear your thoughts about this if you have some? (If you don't ship it, no problem, I don't want to come across as if I'm trying to rant or complain or anything)

Have a good day!!

Thank you so much 🥰

As with all ship asks, ship whatever you ship and have fun, these are just my subjective opinions. Also, no, you don't come across as complaining.

So, real talk, I do enjoy tomarry/harrymort. This ship has some of the most well-written fics I came across in all my various fandoms and it has a special place in my heart. But my thoughts on this pairing are complicated.

To summarise I think this pair can be narrativly delicious. We got distorted parallel mirrors, both of them outright say how much they understand each other, how they know each other better than anyone else. They are narrative foils in many ways, having similar enough backgrounds but making different choices leading down different paths. It also helps these two are in my top 5 favorite characters in the series, so pairing them up is somewhat natural since it gets interesting results.

But, I don't think canon Harry and Tom/Voldemort would actually work as a couple realistically (or at least in a healthy way). Like, even without their history and specific circumstances in the story, ignoring everything and just thinking about how I see their personalities, I think they'd get on each other's nerves if they tried to date. They'd try to kill each other, completely independent of any prophecy.

Now to make a short story long:

(I'll be using the name "Tom" but it refers to Tom at any stage in his life)

First, yes, they do understand each other and have the potential for really seeing each other in a way that others rarely see them. I mean, Harry has Ron and Hermione, but they don't get it the way Tom would. They don't understand loneliness and abuse the way someone who lived through it would. I mean, these two clearly don't know what to do when Harry jokes about ducking his uncle's fists besides looking at him with concern. With Tom, Harry wouldn't have to worry about this. Tom would also not be concerned about Harry's darker more ruthless tendencies, allowing Harry to actually be Harry.

Tom, for his part, is a very lonely character who is looking for companionship and compassion, two things Harry can give. But Tom is unyielding in basically everything, he is incredibly prideful and independent. While he wants a connection, he doesn't really know how to trust and open up, to give a bit of himself that is necessary for relationships which is going to be a struggle for them.

Harry is one of the only characters (if not the only one) Tom sees as an equal or a potential equal. Tom really doesn't respect many people (regardless of blood or magical skill) but he does grow to respect and even fear Harry by book 7. This respect is important for any relationship, but especially when it comes to Tom Riddle, who just wouldn't really take anyone lesser than him seriously. And he thinks 99% of beings are lesser than him, so, that's a point in their favor.

Additionally when we think of the narrative, like, god, this can be juicy. We have two powerful and capable individuals who are basically bound together on every possible level. They are bound by magic, having brother wands that actively don't want to fight each other. They are bound by fate with a prophecy interwinding their lives together. After Tom's resurrection, they are bound by blood and they are bound by soul due to Harry being Tom's Horcrux. They literally share a soul, like, that's insane. They share dreams and memories and get each other in a way few could.

And they are very fixated on each other and can't really escape the other's influence. Tom is obsessed with killing Harry and no one but him is allowed to do it. He even goes as far as stipulating he wants to kill Harry while dueling him properly when Harry has his wand. This is something that shows, again, his respect for Harry. And Harry sees dealing with Voldemort as his responsibility. Tom Riddle is his to deal with and no one else's.

Like, it lends itself to a very dramatic very entertaining story naturally. A messy one for sure, but fun.

All that being said, when I actually think about how I see their respective personalities and what they would want/need from a relationship, I don't think they are very compatible below the surface.

Yes, Tom needs someone who he'll respect, but that partner needs to have some (a lot of) give. They need to be able to work around Tom's 10 million personality complexes without him feeling like he is being fixed. Tom needs to feel like he is getting his way, so his potential partner needs to either be very subtle or put a lot of effort into making Tom dateable (which I talked about more here). The thing is, Harry is just as stubborn and unrelenting as Tom more often than not. These two both have the same complex from a lack of control over their lives in childhood that results in very stubborn people who will fight tooth and nail to get their way and a general distrust of people. This is a recipe for them butting heads often, especially with their different worldviews and how they see people.

Like, both of them would never bow down to anyone. They don't know how to take a backseat. Sure, Harry says he doesn't want all the danger and attention, and he doesn't, but he would be able to sit and do nothing against what he feels is wrong, he is used to carrying an impossible burden on his shoulders. And he takes a leadership rule easily and naturally. Tom is used to getting his way, he is used to being able to either intimidate or charm what he wants out of everyone, something his partner should be immune to, but I think Harry would rile him up worse, instead of putting a stop to the behavior. Like, Tom would just try harder to break Harry before trying something else would cross his mind because Harry would make a sassy comment that would get Tom emotionally invested. He's going to get his pride and self-worth hinging on breaking Harry's resolve, and he is going to fail. Neither of them would ever be happy in the shadow of the other and it's going to be a constant push and pull with these too. Now, this sort of dynamic can be very compelling in fic, it's a fun story about a relationship that is truly insufferable to be around.

Neither of them is particularly emotionally intelligent or capable of emotional vulnerability. Like, Harry, who didn't know why Cho was crying after Cedric died, would need to be the person carrying the emotional tool in this relationship, and, like, I love Harry, but navigating emotionally volatile situations (specifically romantic ones) is not one of his many skills. Tom is even more useless in this department, he sure can recognize emotions in others, but he repeatedly underestimates emotional attachment, both in himself and others because his conceptions about friendship and love are all skewered. And with romance, he would be so much worse.

Add to all of that the fact both of them have one hell of a temper and it's more likely that they'd blow up at each other rather than talk shit out.

And then there is how I think they'll behave when they actually are in a relationship. As I talked about here, Tom is a sentimental and possessive person. When it comes to romance, I think Tom would want a person to be his, he'd be obsessed and controlling while simultaneously wanting to remain independent and do his own thing. He'd be a nightmare. And Harry, well, Harry would handle the independent, doing his own thing quite well, since I think Harry is the same. Even in a relationship, he'd need to keep his own independence and freedom, and that's where Tom's controlling nature is going to butt heads with Harry's distaste for any controlling figure.

I think Tom would struggle with Harry's lack of ambition too. Because Harry is clever, powerful, has the makings of greatness, and is an equal to Tom, but he isn't planning on doing anything with it. This would infuriate Tom, honestly. I think Tom would find many of Harry's passions (like Quidditch) frivolous and useless and would probably tell him that, which Harry would fight him on.

Harry's sassy nature, would also, get under Tom's skin if it's directed at him, Tom takes himself too seriously to make fun of himself and take a joke. However, he would appreciate these same comments when directed at others. Tom has a sense of humor, but he wouldn't make fun of himself, especially not a younger Tom Riddle when he's still in school.

There are aspects that would work, though, I think Harry would be willing to listen to Tom going on about whatever quite intently, and Tom would love that. Harry can pay a lot of attention to people he cares about, but he can also get distracted and just not hear anything being said to him (he tunes out some of Ron and Hermione's conversations regardless of his love for them. It can happen when you get used to being around someone) which Tom would hate. Although Harry would find Tom's monologing kinda annoying at a certain point, I think.

I think Tom would do good for Harry's self-esteem issues since Tom wouldn't accept Harry thinking of himself as average when he is equal to Tom. Harry would be pretty good for Tom's weird prideful self-hatred and could probably help push for an arc there. Both by showing Tom actual affection and by keeping his ridiculous ego in check.

I also think Harry would appreciate someone being protective over him and wanting him so much as someone who grew up feeling unwanted and like he never had anyone in his corner. And Tom, I believe, would be protective and possessive in a relationship (a little too much, but still).

Basically, both of them (but mostly Tom) need work before they can make a relationship between them work, and that's before looking at their history in the books which will always require some canon-divergence or AU to make this pairing work. Very possible, but it takes effort. Most of said effort goes into forcing them to talk properly, honestly, because Tom really wants Harry, his one failure, dead. Like, Harry would shockingly be the easier one to convince of this, I think. Like, he was willing to forgive Tom, he already sees him as a person and not a bogeyman. Plus, he thinks Tom is hot (the younger one at least). Tom (as Voldemort, during the series), as I said, sees Harry not as Harry but as a representation of his own failings, and until he gets that out of his head, I can't really see this relationship working.

When it comes to the "Harry time travels to the 1940s and goes to Hogwarts with Tom" fics it's easier to get them together because Tom has fewer complexes, but it's still not easy (Sure, he doesn't have 10 million complexes, just 7 million instead). So even then Harry has his work cut out for him and this relationship would be a trainwreck that might take collateral damage in the form of everyone around them being miserable with their bullshit.

The key point in all scenarios I mentioned is that Harry needs to actively pursue Tom because otherwise, it won't happen. Because Tom isn't going to pursue it on his own unless some AU reason pushes him to do so. I can see him getting obsessed with Harry easily in various circumstances, but while he'd pursue his obsession, I don't think it would cross his mind to date Harry. Not on his own, I just don't see Tom coming up with it without something to help him get there. Maybe (again in a time travel scenario) a younger Tom could pursue a fake relationship in pursuit of his obsession, but Harry would fight against it because he'd see through him. I also find it hard to imagine Harry pursuing this relationship with Tom through all of Tom's bullshit. I don't think Harry has the patience for that (unless he has a specific reason to do so).

I don't think Harry would pursue this relationship to begin with either. As I mentioned, emotional intelligence and romance in particular are not Harry's strong suits. He could be in love and not notice it because he shrugged it up to something else and he has more pressing things to worry about. If he does notice, he might try to pursue it, but it again depends on the AU or specific situation. I think he could flirt if he set his mind to it, but whether that's effective with Tom depends on which point in Tom's life we're talking about...

I wrote here about the trope of Tom finding out Harry is his Horcrux and, honestly, what I wrote there applies to any potential romantic relationship between them too. Especially if this trope is relevant in the getting-together stage.

All of this is without talking about the elephant in the room of their specific age difference that I'm kinda ignoring. In the books it's a difference of 54 years, which is a lot, but hey wizards and in fic scenarios, Harry can be an adult or they can be the same age, or, well, in fic you can do whatever even when said whatever situation would be messed up irl. I mean, irl I would never advocate for anyone to sleep with their parents' murderer, but this is fanfiction we're talking about so it doesn't really matter. It does mean that this isn't the kind of pairing that I think could be canon or even canon-adjacent. And though I like it better than Drarry in many ways, it's way less likely to happen than Drarry in the canon books as they are.

So, yeah, I like Tomarrry/Harrymort. It's fun, it's juicy, it's dramatic, it has great fics for it out there, but can it realistically happen without some AU? Not really.

(Also, you mentioned Tom and Hermione so I'll add in a little aside that I think that pair will get along worse than Tom and Harry. I think they would misunderstand each other a lot. And Tom, contrary to popular belief isn't going to appreciate someone who's trying to prove he isn't the smartest person in the room. I also think Tom wouldn't like Hermione's attitude over basically anything. I think Hermione would disapprove of Tom's general disregard for others' lives and well-being as well, and she would take more offense at it than Harry. I think Hermione is more likely to get intimidated by Tom than Harry too. Like Hermione would startle at something Tom says whereas Harry would call out his bluff)