#this is not a callout just a random thought

[wagpastie]

sometimes i see peoples posts that make sweeping statements about specific demographics with absolute certainty and its just like. man you truly just not have had many good people in your life huh

[magnifiico]

literally copy/pasting this from one of my other blogs where i made this post YEARS ago, but it still applies, so i want to communicate it again (ꈍ ‸ ꈍ✿)

i’m not asking anyone to do anything or requesting this be done for me specifically, but i do want to just sort of encourage this among folks in the rpc willing to engage:

please just… when someone writes you a starter, replies to an ask you sent, replies even just to a thread you have going on, let them know you like it and appreciate it.

now, tumblr makes that easy for us. we can literally just “like” the post and let the person know we’ve a) seen it and b) approve in some way/shape/form. but for anyone who doesn’t get anxious doing so, actually approaching the person or leaving a lil comment on it really is such a sweet thing to do, imo.

in my experience, i’m always more engaged and eager to write with someone who shows they appreciate my writing and characterization. and you really don’t have to jump through hoops to show it. you don’t have to be someone’s best friend or therapist or any of that; even just being in a strictly “writing partners” relationship leaves room to tell your partner:

hey, that starter you wrote for me was perfect and i love it; tysm for writing it. i can’t believe your character just said that!! i’m screaming omg can’t wait to reply. your ask response killed me; i adore the way you write your character. and so on.

the point i’m trying to make is that i think everyone here deserves to be told they’re doing a great job. everyone here deserves to feel accomplished and wonderful for the time and effort they put into their muse. but i also think 99% of the people here don’t actually get to hear that as often as they should.

so if you have it in you, let your rp partners know you appreciate them, their character, their writing, their headcanons, any of it. because you do. otherwise you wouldn’t be writing with them—just go that one extra step of point-blank expressing it. <3

[isu0]

I’ve been reading hsr fics and it’s jarring to see Japanese expressions (e.g. onee-san) in fics. (granted it doesn’t happen often)

Like I kinda get it, gacha games are typically Japanese. Like even knowing that it’s a Chinese game and being Chinese myself, I still subconsciously associate it with anime.

But it still feels so out of place and I get whiplash every single time. I think it’s cuz firstly, Chinese game. Secondly, most of the characters and settings aren’t culturally Japanese. (Belobog is Slavic-ish and Xianzhou Luofu is Chinese)

[chibirisa20]

Twitter Callout post: “Artist is a homophobe and here’s proof!”

The “proof”: lone screenshot of the artist mentioning that someone was outted as a pedo, no elaboration no nothing just, “oh someone(no user name given)turned out to be a pedo, ew”

And to this day I have ZERO idea of what they meant by this.

[3bagshotrow]

middle-earth dashboard simulator

🏵 hobbitc0re Follow

pippin was 29 years old???

🏵 hobbitc0re Follow

he should've been at the green dragon

( 420 notes )

📸 daily-middle-earth-photos Follow

#gates of argonath #argonath #amon hen #middle earth landscapes #photographers of middle earth #travel #dark academia #lmao pls reblog this i almost fell out of my boat taking this photo

( 79 notes )

🦢 elfposting Follow

my hungry ass could never travel with lembas

( 9,839 notes )

🐟 sojuicysweet Follow

.

#the entitlement i see on this site sometimes is disgusting #y'all will just post about having easy access to lembas when we can't eats hobbit food??? #we must starve??? #vent #do not rb

( 3 notes )

🗡 shieldmaiden Follow

CALLOUT FOR GRIMA WORMTONGUE

I've talked a lot about this already on this blog, but I want to have everything collected in one post so next time some dipshit with a white hand icon slides into my inbox to call me a liar I can just link to this post. tl;dr grima wormtongue has been poisoning my uncle and the land of rohan for the past few years, and here are the receipts:

Keep reading

( 38 notes )

🧙‍♂️ bignaturals Follow

i stg if one more of you tells me I should've sent frodo on the eagles I'm asking iluvatar to take me back

( 1,930 notes )

📖 booknerdofbree Follow

recent read: there and back again: a hobbit's tale by bilbo baggins

I thought this was SOOO fun and cute! I'm usually not into rpf but did anyone else think there was something between bilbo and thorin? 👀 I can't be the only one who saw it. but the ending made me cry my eyes out.

4.5/5 stars

#booklr #there and back again #bilbo baggins #recent read #dark academia #light academia #book review

( 12 notes )

🌲 elvenking69 Follow

who up mirking they wood

( 58,274 notes )

🐛 manofsirith Follow

wtf the new king of gondor just bowed to these four random short guys?? everyone else bowed too and I just went along with it lmao 😅 am I missing something????

#this is right after he sang a song and made out with some hot elf chick #truly the wildest coronation i've ever been to

( 85 notes )

🥵 firstagebaddiebracket Follow

ULTIMATE HOTTEST FIRST AGE BADDIE TOURNAMENT FINALS!!!!

🔘 haldir-deactivated30190303

here y'all go again pitting two bad bitches against each other

🌀 aragornsbigtoe Follow

🌊 helcaraxebaby Follow

everyone who voted galadriel is a kinslayer apologist #luthiensweep

( 4,271 notes )

🔥 beaconboi Follow

fuck my job so much. everyone manifest an attack on gondor so I can finally warm my fingers on this beacon fire.

🔥 beaconboi Follow

by eru this can't be happening

( 38,386 notes )

[milkyberryjsk]

i got back into r6

[pawberri]

The key problem with "proship vs anti" discourse is that the most extreme versions of each side, the ones who actually bother to identify with these labels, accepted each others worst takes as arguments they had to debate. "Fiction =/= reality" is, in practice, an absurdly reductionist, anti-intellectual, thought-terminating-cliche that dictates we can learn nothing about a person via art and that their fiction reflects no political or moral messaging worthy of critique. In response to this, the "puriteens" who are too young to possibly hope to articulate their discomfort, to untangle their position from what is often real trauma experienced online, simply argue "yes, fiction influences and reflects reality in a 1 to 1 capacity." They, and people who want to use the groundwork they laid to make bad-faith callouts, make bad arguments about how the action of engaging in problematic fiction is on equal ground to real life abuse, or is a clear indicator of interest in real life abuse. Both of these arguments are terrible, but each side seems to radicalize the other further and further into their own brands of anti-intellectual reactionary belief. "Proshippers" become libertarian absolutists about free speech and view all transgression as righteous and alternative and therefore leftist. They gain a reactionary nostalgia for the past, desiring a time when people didn't seem to care about the implications of art. "Antis" become authoritarian and hypervigilant for signs of moral decay, at their worst, willing to align themselves with government bodies that offer carceral solutions to the debate. They are willing to use harassment as a tool of punishment, which then leads to false accusations and a fear of openness that puts people at risk of being triggered via obfuscation. (That said, proshippers also take part in plenty of harassment.)

I will say that I believe both of these movements are equally sensitive to co-opting by right-wing forces. We see the authoritarian tendencies of anti culture in harassment campaigns and even the way Republican law makers co-opt "grooming." The proship/fic crowd has such extreme nostalgia for the past that I often see people align themselves with the cultures of 4chan or other happily right-wing websites. They so heavily reject the idea that a drawn sexual depiction of a child could reflect any desire that they are disinterested in analyzing what the motivation behind the depiction is. i.e If we track the history of lolicon in Japan we do find that is, yes, countercultural, but that counter culture is right wing, very misogynistic, and defensive of patriarchial Japanese culture as it is and was including its culture around rape and abuse. Plenty of fictional content works as radicalization material, and radicalization material needs to be ambiguous. There is a valid reason to be hesitant to trust people who consume this content, even if I do not believe most of them will ever be dangerous towards children. The mere presence of sexuality is not enough to make a movement left wing. This kind of thing can again be seen in right-wing libertarian movements in the US. (And even leftist movements can be bigoted and even "pro-pedophilia" or otherwise disinterested in social reform around abuse.)

Is all content with elements of age-play this way? No. But to me, that is why kink media deserves to be treated as art and analyzed, critiqued, treated seriously. It doesn't have to do anything to anyone to be worthy of a moral critique. Said moral critique just doesn't warrant harassment and cruelty and reactionary exaggerations of the person consuming said content.

Anyway, what's my point in saying all this? I don't know. I'm just begging you to tag your God damn content with specific tags instead of random and nebulous shit like "dead dove" or "dark content", and also begging you to stop harassing people who do tag their content so I don't have to guess what "dead dove" and "dark content" mean. No one will erase incest kink fics or people who feel sickened by the idea of them off this earth because we aren't god, but we could at least all be responsible about tagging, flagging, and age-gating our stuff.

[theemporium]

[11k] a seemingly random attack seems to be the start of a big problem for the new jersey devils and you find yourself one of the main targets. fortunately, you have one of the team's best as your appointed bodyguard. unfortunately, he seems to want nothing to do with you.

new jersey mob masterlist || nhl mob masterlist

warning: this is a mob au. topics and themes such as violence, blood, murder and gun use are prevalent and constant throughout the fic. please keep that in mind if you choose to proceed with this fic and the whole series.

.

“Did no one ever tell you as a kid that this much sugar is going to rot your teeth?”

“Well, brother dearest, considering you were the one who raised me, I think that’s a question you should be asking yourself.”

“You know, it’s kinda your fault her nickname is Candy,” a voice sounded from the background of the phone call. You beamed, almost imagining your brother’s face scrunching up at the callout. “Her sweet tooth is strongly encouraged by you.”

“Shut up, Jack.”

“Just pointing out the facts.” 

“No one asked.” 

“I assume you don’t want an eclair then?” You questioned, interrupting the bickering boys on the phone. The silence that followed made your grin widen. 

“Tell Peter to give me the biggest one.” 

“He always does,” you retorted, phone tucked between your ear and shoulder as the small bakery came into view. “Tell Jack I’ll get him those lemon muffins he likes.” 

“You’re the best, Candy!” Jack’s voice rang through the phone. 

“I know,” you answered simply, letting the bell ring above your head as you pushed the bakery door open. 

You smiled when you saw Peter—a sweet boy, no older than his mid-twenties with ruffled hair and constantly flushed cheeks—standing behind the counter with a stained apron on and a determined look on his face that softened when he saw you. 

“The usual?” 

“You know it.” 

“Coming right up, Candy!” 

“Luke thinks Peter has a crush on you,” Jack’s voice came through the phone once again. 

“I’ll shove a cupcake down his throat before he can try anything,” Timo grumbled. 

You rolled your eyes. “You’ll do no such thing, I’d rather not get banned,” you said, grinning a little when you heard Timo scoff. “And as flattered as I am, he’s a bit too soft for me.” 

“I bet he wouldn’t be so soft if you—” 

“Zip it, Hughes.” 

You snorted. “I’m high maintenance. Peter couldn’t handle that.” 

“No one in their right mind can.” 

“I can think of a few who could.” 

Timo huffed. “It’s like you’re trying to make me feel murderous on a Sunday. It’s God’s day. I don’t kill on Sundays.” 

“Well,” Jack started. “You did kill that dodgy fisherman a few weeks back on a Sunday—” 

“Do you ever shut up?” 

“Pete is a good guy, surely you’d want her to date him over anyone else—”

“It’s like you have a death wish.” 

“He’s winding you up,” you snorted, making yourself comfortable since the bakery was empty and settling on the counter by the cash register. “And you fall for it every time.” 

“Whatever,” Timo grumbled, and you could almost imagine the frown on his face. “Why are you over at Peter’s anyways? I thought Nico sent you to Philly.” 

“Jonas went alone instead,” you shrugged, despite the fact the boy couldn’t see you. “Apparently back up wasn’t needed and the negotiations were going fine. He wants me to head towards Buffalo instead. They are avoiding his calls.” 

Jack snorted. “Leave it to Nico to send Candy instead of leaving a voicemail.” 

“I’m scarier,” you grinned. 

Timo laughed. “Yeah, just as terrifying as a pink poodle.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I’ll suffocate you with my fur coat.”

“You wouldn’t be able to catch me in those heels.” 

“You underestimate me, Tims,” you grinned. 

He let out a disgusted groan. “Don’t call me that.” 

When it came to life in the mob, there were a few rules you had to always remember. 

One: never trust someone not sworn in. No matter what they say and no matter what they do to try and prove themselves, no man or woman not under that same oath and protection will ever have your back. 

Two: make alliances with your brain and not your heart. It sounded stupid but far too many times have people found themselves entering stupid deals and negotiations to get what they wanted, far too blinded by their own desires to take off their rose-tinted glasses. 

Three: always—and emphasis on the always—be alert. You never know when an enemy can strike. You never know who’s lingering in the shadows, ready to catch you off-guard. 

Unfortunately for you, it was the third rule you found yourself forgetting as the sound of glass smashing echoed through the small bakery. 

There was a ringing in your ears, muffling the sounds of screams and yells and gunshots as the world seemed to move in slow motion around you. You were distantly aware that one of the voices was your brother on the phone, the other Peter somewhere in the back. But you could barely focus on your own thoughts as you quickly dropped to the ground, your back pressed against one of the booths as the gunshots continued to rain through the shop. 

You cursed yourself for not being alert. You cursed yourself for leaving your gun in your car. You cursed yourself for not even peeking to see how many men were shooting before you ducked to safety. 

You were so far in your own thoughts that it took a while to realise the gunshots had stopped. 

You jumped out of your skin when you felt a hand on your shoulder, turning to find Peter staring back at you with a pale face and wide eyes. His lips were moving but you couldn’t seem to process the words he was saying. 

“Calm down,” you managed to mutter out, placing your hand over his and squeezing. “You’re gonna be okay.” 

But the boy shook his head. “We need to get a doctor.” 

You blinked, your brain hardly keeping up with him. “What? Why?” 

Peter almost looked nervous as he spoke, as white dots began to blur your vision and his face morphed into blobs of colours. His mouth was moving, a pink and reddish blob that kept changing shape, as you strained to hear what he said. 

And then, your vision went black. 

…

“You were hurt!” 

“Timo—”

“Seriously injured! Hospitalised!”

“It doesn’t count as a hospital if it’s just in the house—”

“You were shot!” Timo gritted out through clenched teeth, his fists clenched at his side so tight that his knuckles were white. 

“Shot is a bit of an exaggeration,” you murmured under your breath. 

Timo turned on his heel, his eyes narrowed in a glare. “A fucking bullet went through you, how the fuck would you describe that?”

“An unfortunate occurrence,” you retorted despite Nico shooting you a look to behave, to not wind your brother up any further. “It hardly warrants the need of a babysitter.” 

“A bodyguard,” Nico corrected.

“Semantics,” you waved him off. 

“You were a part of a targeted attack against us,” Timo hissed, the vein on his forehead starting to pop out. “A bodyguard is exactly what you need right now.” 

“Everyone in this fucking room has been a part of a targeted attack,” you snapped back at your older brother. “News flash! It comes with the fucking lives we live! You are being far too dramatic over one little bullet wound.” 

“My mistake for caring,” Timo deadpanned. 

“It’s not the worst I’ve experienced and you know it,” you retorted, watching the boy’s mouth snap shut. You let out a sigh, a wave of guilt washing over you as you pushed yourself off Nico’s couch and walked closer to your brother. “I’m fine. I promise.” 

Timo opened his mouth.

“Timo,” you said in a softer voice, watching his shoulders drop. “Look, if anything weird happens in the next few weeks or if we have any reason to believe they will specifically attack me again, then I’ll agree to a bodyguard.” 

Timo looked conflicted. “Promise?” 

“Pinky promise,” you replied, grinning far too wide for someone who was barely allowed out of bed so soon. “Now, put your big boy pants on and go do something productive.” 

Nico’s brows furrowed together. “You know I’m the boss here, right?” 

“Send him somewhere far away for the week!” 

…

“You promise you’re okay?” 

“Geez, what are you, my mother?” You grumbled, your fingers dancing over the hangers on the rail as the boy followed behind you. “I’m okay. Doctor just said no strenuous activities.” 

Alex raised his brows. “Are you mentally okay? Emotionally okay?” 

“Forget my mother, are you my therapist?” You muttered, turning to look at the boy with narrowed eyes. “How much did Timo pay you?” 

Alex scoffed. “What makes you think he paid me anything?” 

“Because you never come shopping with me, let alone willingly,” you retorted with something quite triumphant in your smile.

“Yeah, well, shopping is a strenuous activity when it comes to you,” Alex grumbled under his breath, readjusting the countless bags and hangers in his hands. “I couldn’t let you hurt yourself any more than you currently are.”

You beamed, lightly patting his cheek. “That’s why you’re my favourite, Holtzy.” 

“Timo also threatened me,” he added, a small smile tugging on his lips when he saw you roll your eyes and turn back around. “He can be scary, even when he’s across the country.”

“Nico should’ve sent him somewhere further,” you sighed, shaking your head before turning your attention back to the dresses on the rack. “Speaking of, I thought Nico put you in charge of checking up on Peter.” 

“Jack and Luke wanted to take over,” Alex shrugged. “They wanted to make sure he was actually okay.” 

You pressed your lips together in a frown. “Is that even safe? Both of them to be seen with Peter?” 

“You think someone from Toronto is lurking in a bush outside the bakery, just waiting to see the three of them together?” Alex deadpanned, unphased by the look you gave him. He had been on the receiving end far too many times. “They’ll be fine. Nico wouldn’t have allowed it if it was unsafe.”

“Nico is also completely distracted by the fact Trouba supposedly wanted to meet to talk about some alliance or something,” you snorted.

“How do you know these things?” Alex questioned, his head tilted in curiosity. 

“I have my ways,” you grinned knowingly. “And I have my ways of knowing if you repeat any of this to anyone. Especially Curtis. He is such a gossip.”

Alex paused before nodding. “Yeah no, that is fair. You think he will take Trouba up on the offer?” 

“If the incentive is right.” 

“That was frustratingly vague.” 

“I know.” 

“Well, distracted or not, Nico would never let anything bad happen to Jack and Luke, or Peter by extension,” Alex said, sounding so sure of himself. “He has worked hard to keep Peter’s presence in Jersey under wraps. He wouldn’t let Jack or Luke ruin that, not when they were the ones who asked for it.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you hummed, waving him off. “You’re right. Blah blah blah. You done yet?” 

Alex rolled his eyes. “You asked.”

“Yeah but I was hoping you’d agree with me it was unsafe so we had an excuse to visit after this,” you retorted, flashing him an innocent smile over your shoulder. “Wanna split an apple pie?” 

Alex sighed but he agreed. 

…

Just like you assumed, the next two weeks passed without a hitch or whisper of another attack.

After Nico practically threatened to make Timo your round-the-clock bodyguard, you got the proper rest and care needed for your wound to mostly heal. You were still a little tender—and banned from your and Dawson’s weekly yoga sessions—but you felt close to your normal self, able to join some of the others on the less physical jobs, like visiting the factories and handling negotiations. 

Unfortunately for you, it was week three when disaster struck again. 

“I’m surprised Nico even let you step foot into this place,” you teased as you closed the car door behind you, finding the boy already rolling his eyes at you. 

“Sometimes a pretty boy has to do some dirty work too,” Jack replied, grinning boyishly as he looped his arm with yours before walking towards the warehouse. 

“Your ego truly astounds me,” you commented. 

“Says you,” he retorted, laughing as he tried to ignore your heel jabbing into his toes. 

It was a routine check-up, something that wasn’t meant to take longer than thirty minutes—forty tops, if you left Jack to do it alone and get distracted. But the shipment had just left and you needed to make sure nothing was left behind and assure no tracks were left behind. Nico preferred people close to him doing the checks. 

You had been mildly surprised that he sent you and Jack together, though, you had a feeling that the whole peace treaty with the Rangers was taking over Nico’s plate. 

“Everything looks good,” Jack said as he jogged back towards you, pushing some hair out of his face. “What about your side?” 

“All good,” you confirmed. “Let’s head back before Timo gets there. The dick made a bet with me that he would be back from Washington before us.” 

Jack paused. “Isn’t he meant to be staying the night?” 

You huffed. “Please, the boy has been like a fucking helicopter parent. Unless it’s on the west coast, he doesn’t like being away for a day because apparently something will happen to me if he’s not here.”

Jack shook his head fondly but his hand rested over yours, giving it a small squeeze. “He just cares, Candy.” 

You felt a flash of guilt in the pit of your stomach. “Jack—”

“Take it from a guy who lost a sibling, it isn’t fun,” he said, trying to smile and laugh through it but it fell flat. 

You frowned, not giving the boy a chance to run off before you wound your arms around him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” you murmured softly. 

“I know,” Jack whispered, his arms wrapping around you in return. “He just wants to know you’re safe. God knows I’d freak out the same if it was Luke in your position.” 

“A pair of overbearing brothers you are,” you teased, pulling back with a softer smile on your face. “You’re a good brother. And a good friend.”

Jack raised his brows. “Wow, I didn’t even have to pay you for that compliment.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I meant you’re a good friend to Peter. How’s he holding up?” 

“A bit shaken,” Jack confessed as you both walked back towards the car, his lips turned downwards. “The damage to the shop wasn’t too bad, mostly just replacing the windows and cleaning up. But he’s freaked out that people are on his tail.” 

You hummed, nodding. “And you? How do you feel?” 

Jack couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “I’m not the one that got shot.” 

“Yeah but,” you paused, waving your hand around. “If Peter is freaked out—”

“Anything freaks him out,” Jack mused. “It was just a normal, run of the mill, everyday kind of event that happens when you’re in the mob. There’s nothing or no reason to believe it was anything but a fluke—”

BOOM!

You felt Jack’s body covering yours before you even realised you were on the ground. You managed to peek over Jack’s shoulder, your eyes widening at the sight of the warehouse—the same one you were inside mere minutes ago—bursting into flames that were growing and spreading and burning wildly. 

“Okay, I take it back,” Jack muttered, his eyes glued on the burning building. “Not a fluke. Definitely targeted. We are fucked.” 

You swallowed. “Dibs on not calling Nico.” 

…

“I knew it.” 

You rolled your eyes at the cock-sureness in your brother’s voice. 

“This is serious,” Nico spoke up, shooting Timo a look before he went on a rant—again. “That’s two attacks in three weeks. And we have no fucking idea who’s behind them. Or if they are even linked at all.” 

“It’s hard when we have a plethora of enemies,” Jesper deadpanned, raising his hands in mock surrender when Nico shot him a look. “Just saying.” 

“Stop reminding me,” Nico grumbled. 

“Guess we can cross the Rangers off our list though, right, Boss?” You teased, wiggling your brows despite the glare you were receiving. 

“Candy,” Nico sighed. “Your brother is right. I think it’s best to have a bodyguard around, just for the next few weeks until we work things out.” 

“Yeah because a bodyguard is sure gonna help when the building blows up, this time with us in it,” you deadpanned. 

“I’d be more observant than Jack,” Timo commented. 

“Hey!” Jack frowned. 

“Absolutely fucking not,” you quickly stood up, shaking your head. “You’re not going to be my bodyguard. I’m not having you hovering over me twenty-four-seven. You’re bad enough as it is.” 

Timo clenched his jaw. “Yes, I am—”

“No. She’s right. You’re not,” Nico spoke up, quickly interrupting you both. “But you are getting a bodyguard. Just to take precautions until we confirm whether you’re a target or if you just happened to be at the targeted places by chance. Maybe having another pair of eyes around you, someone who’s vigilant, will be insightful.” 

“I’m not five, Nico, I can take care of myself,” you insisted, your arms crossed over your chest. “A babysitter isn’t going to do anything other than be a nuisance.” 

“The bodyguard,” Nico corrected with a pointed look. “Is necessary and will not be negotiated.” 

“This is ridiculous,” you said to him. 

“And he’s going to be with you around the clock, always by your side,” Nico said. 

Your nose scrunched up. “No.” 

“Every shopping trip, every little run into town,” Nico continued. 

You could feel your skin prickling. “Nico—

“And I’m moving him into your room to sleep, armed and ready just in case,” Nico insisted. 

This time it was Timo who stepped in. “Woah, wait a second—”

“And I know the perfect guy,” Nico grinned. “Marino will be your bodyguard.” 

It was like a switch flipped in your head, your irritance and fight disappearing as you grinned at him. “Okay.” 

“I—” Timo narrowed his eyes at you. “Why are you suddenly okay with this?” 

“Because I know how to listen to my boss, Timmy, you should try it some time,” you grinned at your brother, patting his shoulder before you sauntered out of the office. 

“Stop calling me that,” Timo groaned as he followed you out. 

Jesper waited a few moments before your voices were clearly down the hall. “You did that just to stir some drama, didn’t you?” 

“Yup,” Nico answered quite happily. 

“Thank god, everyone was sick of the pining puppy dog eyes,” Jack grumbled from the spot on Nico’s desk he was sitting on. 

…

You had known John Marino for as long as you had been with the Devils. 

He was quieter than the rest, happy to linger in the corners of the room and observe everyone. It makes sense why Nico had chosen him as the role of your bodyguard, it was John’s nature to notice things most people missed. But, ultimately, it confused the fuck out of you. 

Because for as long as you had known John, you were also certain the boy didn’t like you. 

You could count on one hand the amount of conversations you shared with the boy, and even those conversations lasted thirty seconds at most. And for a majority of those thirty seconds, it was you talking and him saying three words in response, if even that.

You had eventually accepted the fact that some personalities just clashed, that maybe you were too loud or too energetic or too extroverted for John’s liking. You tried to tell yourself you were okay with it because, at the end of the day, he was still polite and curt with you. 

But you would be lying if you said a small part of you wasn’t offended that you were nothing more than a glorified acquaintance with John Marino. 

So really, it shouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone that you were going to use the next few weeks with him to get him to like you. Or figure out what the hell his deal was. 

“You think John hates you?” Dawson repeated, like that was the detail he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around in your whole plan. 

“Hate is a strong word,” you said in response. “I’m simply going to get him to come out of his shell a little. With me specifically.” 

“Not the kinda coming he wants to do with you,” Dawson muttered under his breath. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing!” Dawson quickly cleared his throat. He turned his gaze back towards the corridor the two of you were currently walking down. “How do you plan to get him out of his shell?”

“I don’t need a strategy to make friends,” you mused, grinning a little when the boy rolled his eyes in response. “My plan is to not have a plan. I am sure with the time spent together, he will eventually open up.”

“That still sounds like a strategy,” Dawson commented but you didn’t get the chance to reply, the door to Nico’s office swinging open and a beaming Nico taking the focus of your attention instead.

“Candy, brilliant, you’re here!” 

You blinked. “Yes, you asked me to be. You literally sent me a text ten minutes ago—” 

“Anyways!” Nico spun around, still grinning a concerning amount as he wandered back into the office, a few of the other boys already inside. “I don’t like the idea of waiting around for another attack to get answers.”

Jesper raised his brows. “Meaning?” 

“Meaning I want both attacks investigated separately so we can see if there are any dots joining,” Nico stated simply, leaning against his desk. “Bratter, you and Jack are on warehouse duty. I want to know everyone who stepped foot in that place in the last month.”

“Bit hard to do when the cameras blew up with the building but sure,” Jack grumbled.

“Candy,” Nico’s eyes shifted to you. “You and John will be on the bakery.”

“Is it really a good idea to send her back to the bakery?” Timo interrupted, stepping forward. 

“I’m not ignoring it for the rest of my life because of one attack,” you told him. “Me and Johnny can handle it.”

“Johnny?” Timo repeated incredulously before spinning around to find John, who was standing near the back of the room with a blank expression on his face. “Since when were you Johnny?” 

John only shrugged in response.

Timo’s eyes narrowed. 

“As I was saying,” Nico spoke up again. “This is how we are doing it.”

“What about the rest of us?” Timo asked.

“You have other jobs to do,” Nico said simply. “I am not putting our lives on hold over a few attacks. We continue everything else like normal. I don’t want it to get out that we are concerned over these attacks, they will make us look weak.”

Jonas’ lips twitched upwards. “And god forbid you look weak before you have the chance to woo the Rangers—”

Nico had elbowed him in the gut before he managed to finish that sentence.

…

“You’re staring.” 

You blinked, wondering for a few moments if you had imagined the boy speaking. The two of you had been sitting in your room for the better part of the last two hours, combing through the security footage from the bakery that Peter had sent you. 

And in that time, John had said two words, a simple ‘on it’ when you sent him half of the security footage to watch over.

Somewhere in that time, you found yourself sitting against your headboard, watching the boy sitting at your desk with narrowed eyes like you would somehow be able to figure him out through observation. 

Clearly, that didn’t work very well.

“Staring is considered a compliment,” you replied, watching the way his lips twitched upwards. You waited for him to turn around and go back to the footage, but you were surprised when he leaned back in his seat to look at you. 

“And are you?” He questioned, watching your head tilt in confusion. “Complimenting me?” 

“No,” you shook your head. “I’m wondering why you’re here.” 

John raised his brows. “You are aware you were shot a few weeks ago, right?” 

“Yes but you didn’t have to say yes to Nico,” you pointed out. 

John stared back at you for a few moments before he spoke. “I wanted to, Candy.” 

He didn’t give you the chance to reply before he turned back around, his focus returning to the hours of security footage he had been watching minutes before.

…

It took a little over three days to watch all the footage from the bakery’s security cameras just for it to come up with no leads. The warehouse was no better, with no real evidence or clues on who set up the attack. 

Nico was trying to keep a brave face and pretend like it wasn’t that big of a deal but you could see that it was unsettling him. Someone clearly had a target on the Devils’ back and the reason was unclear, which made it ten times harder to anticipate what the next move would be. And with the deal with the Rangers coming up, the last thing any of you needed was a weakness to be exposed. 

“We will figure it out,” Nico kept saying whenever it was questioned by some of the other members, the ones not as privy to the inner circle talks in his study late at night. “We will be fine.” 

You were pretty sure he was trying to convince himself of that fact too.

“We need to do something,” you said around a week after the investigation into the attacks began, lying on your bed with your head hanging over the edge. “How the fuck have we not found anything?” 

“Because whoever is behind it is good at covering their tracks?” Jack suggested from his spot beside you on the bed.

“Or because we are trying to catch them with little to no evidence,” John added, standing by the door of your room with his hands obediently behind his back. “You know, since everything was either burned or destroyed or has a million bullet holes in it.”

“Will you sit down? You’re stressing me out,” you muttered to him.

“No,” John stated simply.

Jack snorted. “He is jealous I took the bed.”

“I am not.” 

Jack shot you a knowing look. “He totally is.”

“There has to be something else,” you sighed, your eyes fixed on the massive pile of clothes you had thrown over the back of your desk chair. John had wrinkled his nose at all the sequins and glitter, a look which soured when you suggested he add some colour to his outfits. The constant all black was starting to make you feel angsty. 

“We’ve tried everything, bar kidnapping random people off the street and interrogating them,” John retorted.

“My plan was way more nuanced than that,” Jack insisted. “Stop making it sound dumb.”

“He can’t make it sound dumb if it is dumb,” you pointed out.

John’s lips twitched upwards.

Jack scoffed. “Since when did you two agree with each other?”

“Since you became an easy target,” you retorted, hissing when the boy reached over to pinch your arm. “Ouch, asshole.” 

“It was deserved,” Jack insisted.

You turned your head to look at John. “I thought my bodyguard was meant to protect me.” 

“Because Jack and his noodle arms are such a big threat,” John deadpanned.

Jack quickly sat up in bed. “Woah, now wait a second—” 

“It would take more than a second to fix your noodle arms.” 

Jack narrowed his eyes at the boy. “I do not know why Luke likes you so much.”

John shrugged in response. 

“Is Peter’s shop still under renovation?” You questioned, interrupting whatever weird staring contest the two of them were doing. The mention of his friend was enough for Jack to tear his eyes away from John to focus on you instead. 

“What? Yeah, they are,” he nodded with his lips turned down. “Why?” 

“Good,” was the only response you gave, quickly swinging your legs over the side of the bed as you sat up. Both boys looked at you with confused expressions, watching as you hooked the straps of your heels on one finger and reached for one of your coats with the other hand. 

John straightened. “What are you—”

“Hurry up, Johnny, we are leaving in five,” you stated, grinning when you noticed him let out a heavy sigh like he accepted the fact he wasn’t getting answers from you.

“What about me?” Jack called out.

“Don’t know and don’t care!” 

…

Peter’s Bakery was a cute and quaint shop that didn’t stand out amongst the others on the street. It fit right in with the friendly, homely neighbourhood and was a huge hit with the locals. It was a simple place, hidden right in plain sight. 

Despite the connection to the Devils, there was no reason for it to be targeted in an attack. 

“Eighty percent of Peter’s customers are locals,” you told John as you walked towards the bakery, your heels clicking against the cement in a melodic pattern. It was comforting, something to hold onto as memories of the last time you were here flooded to the front of your mind.

“So?” John questioned, his eyes hidden behind the sunglasses he had slipped on before the two of you left the house. You could bet your bottom dollar that he was already analysing everything, probably had been since the second the two of you got out of the car.

“Ten percent are people from surrounding areas and the remaining ten are tourists from states excluding the ones in the immediate surrounding area,” you continued. “And the chances of the attacker being a local is slim to none so—”

“You think the person behind all this visited the bakery before the attack?” John finished for you.

“Bingo, Johnny,” you grinned at the boy, watching as he simply pressed his lips together. 

“And you think he is just going to remember every customer he interacted with?” John asked, the judgement clear from his voice. “We already combed through the CCTV footage, we know there was nothing weird—”

“That was on camera,” you pointed out. “They could have given a different vibe in person.” 

“A different vibe?” John repeated in a dubious tone.

“I don’t see you jumping with any better ideas,” you retorted as the boy just sighed in response. “Cheer up, Johnny, the ever present frown is going to give you wrinkles.” 

John didn’t get the chance to even try and respond before you were pushing the door to the bakery open. Despite the damage to the shop, the bell above the door remained intact and dinged as the two of you walked in. It was a mess, with cans of paints and planks of wood and tools sprawled over the place, but the vague smell of cookies still somehow lingered in the air. 

“Sorry, we are closed for—oh,” Peter poked his head out from the back of the store, his lips twisting into a smile when he saw you. “Candy, I didn’t know you were stopping by.” 

“We just had a few questions for Jersey’s favourite baker,” you smiled innocently. 

“We?” Peter repeated, his eyes glancing past your shoulder like he was noticing John for the first time. A look passed over his face before he cleared his throat. “Marino.”

“Perry.” 

“It’s Peter.”

“Whoops.”

“Play nice,” you pouted, lightly elbowing John’s side before turning your smiling face back to Peter. “Excuse him, he gets pissy if he misses his afternoon nap.”

John’s jaw clenched as Peter laughed. 

“Come on in,” Peter smiled back. “I’m all yours for the next hour before the builders come back from their lunch break.”

“How convenient,” John murmured under his breath, lifting his hands in mock surrender as you shot him a look before the both of you followed him into the back of the store. 

…

“So, that was useless.” 

“No surprise there.” 

Your eyes narrowed into a glare, your mood only souring further when you found the boy wasn’t even looking back at you. His gaze seemed to be glued ahead, his jaw still clenched like it had been the whole time you had been in the bakery.

“What is your problem?” You asked, wrapping your coat further around your body as the wind began to pick up. “You have been in an awful mood since we arrived.”

“I’ve been completely normal,” John answered. Those stupid sunglasses on his face were starting to piss you off. 

“You have not,” you scoffed, shaking your head. “You were fine joking around with Jack back in the house but the second we left, you were in a downright horrible mood—hey!”

“Keep your voice down,” John grumbled, his hand now locked around your arm as he tugged you closer to his side. 

You let out a snort of laughter. “You’re funny if you think—”

“Someone has been following us since we left the bakery,” John said, his voice low and barely a muscle on his face moving as he spoke. “Lower your voice and follow me.” 

And for once, you listened. 

There was a growing temptation to look back. To just take a peek over your shoulder and see the face of the person who was following you, to try and get an idea of who it was. There was no coincidence that the two of you were being followed the second you left the bakery, the same goddamn place you were first attacked. 

You wondered if it was the same person. You wonder if they were the one that shot the gun that hit you. You wondered if—

“You’re spiralling,” John’s voice cut through your thoughts.

“Am not,” you retorted, but it sounded weak to your own ears.

“Lie better,” John insisted, his hand tightening around your arm as he spoke. 

It was like you could hear the footsteps behind you now, like they were loud and clear the second John had pointed them out to you. When you sped up, so did they. When you slowed down, so did they. They were matching your moves and following the two of you and the car was too far away and you couldn’t call for backup without alerting the person and—

“Shhhh, breathe for me.” 

You blinked before you even realised what was happening. Torn out of your own spiralling thoughts, you found yourself pressed against a wall, the cold bricks jabbing into your back but the comfort was the least of your problems. John was pressed up against you, not an inch of you exposed to the rest of the world as he kept you pinned between him and the wall.

You lifted your head to watch his side profile, watch the way he kept his eyes on the entryway to the alley he had pulled you down before you even realised what was happening. You watched the way his cheeks flushed pink, probably from the nipping weather (though it was hard to care about that when he was like a furnace against you). You watched the way he looked so focused, so in his element. 

It was hard to doubt Nico’s choice when you were seeing John do just what he did best.

“I think it’s all clear,” he eventually said, breaking the silence that had been lingering since he dragged you into the alley.

You swallowed harshly. “You sure?” 

“Have I given you any reason to doubt I wouldn’t take your safety seriously?” John asked, turning his head so he was finally looking at you. You watched him closely, watched the way his eyes darted over your face and lingered on your lips for a moment too long before returning to your eyes.

“No,” you replied honestly.

“Then there’s your answer,” he murmured, lingering for a few moments before he took a step back. “Let’s go back to the house.”

You tried not to think about how cold you were the second he stepped away. 

…

Things were starting to heat up with the Rangers deal.

Which, considering the faces of everyone in Nico’s study at that current moment, was incredibly fucking shocking. 

“You’re actually going through with it?” Jesper was the one to speak first, staring at Nico with wide eyes. “I thought we were just entertaining them to see what they want.” 

“Yes, and I listened and I agreed to it,” Nico said as he leaned back in his chair. “So we are going forth with the deal.”

“We have been fighting them for years,” Jack piped in, his brows furrowed together like he was trying to piece together a deal he didn’t even know the terms of fully. You weren’t even sure Nico knew the details of the deal yet. 

“Exactly,” Nico nodded. “And look how much we have lost, both of us. It’s time to turn a new leaf.” 

Jack flinched. 

You pressed a hand between the blades of his shoulders, leaving it there until you could feel the boy slowly start to relax under your touch.

“This isn’t sustainable for either of us,” Nico continued, though it was softer this time. “We need to start thinking about what’s best for the Devils.”

“And buddying up with the Rangers is the solution?” Jonas asked, no judgement in his voice (yet). Just curiosity.

“Not just with them,” Nico admitted. “I want to start solidifying our relationships.” 

And it was that exact reason that Nico decided to send you to Pittsburgh. 

The members of the Steel City mob were not ones the Devils knew well, nor did they have much of a history with. It was good, in the sense that there was no awkward bad blood to get over (read: like the current Rangers deal Nico was trying to pull). But it also meant there was no reason for either group to want a relationship.

Not unless you were Nico Hischier and Sidney Crosby, suddenly interested in creating an alliance that would somehow benefit both groups involved.

It was weird travelling with John. Usually when Nico sent you on missions like this, you were alone. On the off chance you needed back up, it would be Timo or Dawson or Jack by your side. It should have felt unsettling to have John, but it was comforting.

It was comforting to know he had your back, that you didn’t have to spend the whole trip looking over your shoulder. 

And it was better than when one of the others were with you. John let you take control, let you do the talking, let you sit across from Sidney and say what you wanted without trying to cut in or take over the conversation. 

It was comforting but also such a mindfuck to know this was all from the same boy who practically avoided you until a few weeks ago.

Where was this John before?

All in all, the meeting went well. There was still a lot to discuss, to negotiate, to consider. But it was the start to an alliance between the Devils and the Penguins, a welcome and positive start. And that was more than enough for an overnight trip. Sidney had even been kind enough to offer a place in one of the countless establishments owned by the Penguins.

“Two rooms?” He said like it was a nicety, rather than a fact he already knew.

“One,” John corrected, his face remaining blank as he spoke. But there was a hint of ‘no further argument’ in his voice.

Sidney’s lips twitched upwards. “One it is, then.” 

…

The hotel room was nice. More than nice, if you were being completely honest. 

It felt far too fancy for a single night’s stay but you assumed the Penguins were wanting to keep the good relationship going, to show they were serious, to show how well they could treat those they shared a good alliance with. It felt more like a studio apartment than a hotel room.

And despite it all, there was only one bed.

It had taken around thirty minutes of arguing before John accepted that the bed was large enough for you both to share for the night. He had been insistent he could use the couch by the window, that it was big and comfy enough for him. 

It made you want to scream. 

You didn’t get it. You really didn’t fucking get it. 

If someone had asked you a few months ago, you would have bet your life on the fact that John didn’t like you. He was clearly quite quiet and reserved, preferring to keep to himself. You would have assumed the reasons he stayed away from you were just that—that you were too loud, too out there, too flashy.

And then he became your bodyguard. And there were these moments where you thought you were seeing a different John, a John that you could get along with. A John that would maybe even be able to handle how loud and out there and flashy you were.

Until moments like this, moments where it felt like he would rather be anywhere but beside you. Where it felt like he was here out of obligation because of Nico’s orders. 

“Why do you hate me?” 

It had been over an hour since the two of you turned the lights off and settled down for the night. If you were being honest, you assumed he had fallen asleep a while ago but it still hadn’t stopped you from blurting the question out into the dark room, to get it off your chest before you felt like you would explode.

You hadn’t expected to feel him tense up beside you. You hadn’t expected him to still be awake.

“What?” 

You remained silent.

You could hear shuffling from his side of the bed. You wondered if he was turning to face you. You couldn’t bring yourself to look.

“Candy,” John said, his voice heavy with an emotion you couldn’t quite pinpoint. “What makes you think I hate you?”

“Because what else am I to think?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you spoke. “You ignored me before this, before Nico told you to watch over me. You barely said three words to me in the years I have been here and—”

You cut yourself off. The silence remained for a few minutes and you wondered if he had genuinely fallen asleep in that time. You still couldn’t bring yourself to look.

“I don’t hate you,” John whispered. “I never did.” 

You let out a shaky breath.

“You were just so…you,” John confessed. “It was intimidating. I guess I didn’t think I was interesting enough.” 

You frowned. “What?” 

“I never said my reason made sense,” John retorted and you couldn’t help but snort a little. “I promise that I never hated you, Candy. Nobody could hate you.” 

You swallowed. “And I’m meant to believe that?” 

“I would never lie to you,” John said confidently. “Never have and never will.”

“Okay,” you whispered as you reached your hand back. It took a few seconds of patting the space between you both before you found his hand and gave it a small squeeze. “I don’t hate you either.”

“That’s reassuring.” 

“Goodnight, Johnny.” 

“Goodnight, Candy.” 

…

“We think we have found a link between the attacks.” 

“We?” 

“Apologies,” Nico corrected, letting out a sigh as Jesper glared at the side of his head. “Jesper thinks he has found a link.” 

“It’s a guess,” Jesper admitted after a few moments as the lot of you surrounded the map that was currently sprawled out over the length of Nico’s desk. “But it’s better than nothing.” 

“What makes you think they will even attack again?” Jonas questioned as he glanced between the circled locations with a frown.

“We don’t,” Nico answered.

“Well, we can assume they will try again considering none of the other attacks ended with what they wanted,” Jack spoke up, catching your eye as he sheepishly shrugged. “Sorry, Candy.”

Timo’s frown deepened.

“Each of these locations would fit their agenda,” Jesper said as he rapped his knuckles against the map before frowning. “If we have guessed their agenda correctly.”

“You will have,” you assured, squeezing the blond’s shoulder with a smile. “Good job, Bratter.” 

“We are going to have these locations on a constant patrol for the next week,” Nico said, frowning down at the map like he was already organising the patrol schedule in his head (even though Jonas would be the one to have a printed and laminated version on the notice board in the foyer by that very evening). “We are due another attack soon, if these people are sticking to a schedule.” 

“Dibs the club by the Italian place,” you spoke up, flashing Jack a grin where he let out an exaggerated groan. “Their garlic bread would be the perfect stakeout snack.” 

Nico opened his mouth but Timo was already talking before he had the chance to say anything.

“What makes you think you’re a part of this?” Timo asked with a frown.

You raised your brows. “Maybe the fact I am in this room right now.”

“No,” Timo shook his head. “Absolutely not. You’re not getting involved in this.”

“Timo—”

“You are one of their targets,” Timo gritted out between clenched teeth. “It would be fucking stupid to put you on patrol. We may as well hand you over on a silver platter.”

“You’re being dramatic,” you said. “I’ll be with John—”

“No, I am being realistic,” Timo corrected. “You’re staying behind. End of discussion.” 

You could feel your temper starting to rise, feeling that itch under your skin that was biting to fight back. “What? You suddenly don’t trust John?” 

“No, I don’t trust you,” Timo retorted, the muscles in his jaw clenching. “You’re a liability, Candy.” 

You froze for a moment before scoffing. “Wow. Wow.”

To his credit, Timo did look apologetic the second the words settled in the room. “Candy, I didn’t—”

“What? You didn’t mean it?” You let out a humourless laugh, shaking your head. “No, you meant it, Timo. You meant it just like you meant it in San Jose and look where that got us.”

A look of hurt flashed across your brother’s face. “That’s not fair—”

“Whatever,” you gritted out, stepping back when he tried to reach you and turning on your heel before anyone else had the chance to say anything. You turned and walked towards the door and kept walking, blood roaring in your ears and tears welling in your eyes with every step. 

…

“Got room for one more?”

John didn’t wait for your response as he settled down on the spot beside you. He glanced around, letting out a hum of amusement as he took in the full brunt of your wardrobe. It had been its own room at one point, before you had taken it over and connected it to your bedroom. Now, it was full of rails and shelves bursting with clothes and shoes in so many colours that John was surprised his head didn’t hurt the second he walked in. 

He leaned back against one of the set of drawers, laughing a little when he felt a couple of feathers brushing against the back of his neck. “Do you actually wear feather boas?”

Your lips twitched upwards. “I got them when Luke and Curtis bet fifty bucks that I didn’t have them ‘in my collection’.” 

John smiled a little. “So you have them to help Luke in a bet?”

You shot him a look. “Don’t be silly, I was helping Curtis win the bet.” 

John did laugh this time, a proper laugh that caught you by surprise. Not that he seemed put off by the way you were blatantly staring at him. Instead, he nudged his shoulder against yours and just smiled. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned your head against his shoulder. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” John asked in a soft voice. 

“I just…” You trailed off, trying to find the words to describe everything racing on inside your head. “I was just so pissed off and he wasn’t listening to me and I…I knew it would hurt. I wanted it to hurt.” You paused. “Does that make me a bad person?” 

“Maybe,” John whispered. “But I don’t think he was a great person at that moment either.” 

“I know the San Jose stuff upsets him,” you whispered, pressing your cheek further into the fabric of his shirt until his cologne and the vague scent of fabric softener was the only thing you could focus on. “He regrets it every day. He regrets that he left me behind that day, that he thought I was too much of a liability to go away with him.” 

John pressed his cheek against the top of your head. “What happened in San Jose wasn’t your fault or his. It was them. It was the Sharks and their twisted morals over there and—” 

“I’m his sister and I almost died because of a decision he made,” you whispered, your voice cracking as you spoke. “He will always blame himself, even if no one else thinks it. Even if he is the reason I’m alive now and we got out of there.”

John didn’t say anything. 

“Just like I will always blame myself for trusting them blindly,” you muttered, swallowing the words that felt like they were stuck in the back of your throat. “I forgot the basic rules of this life. I forgot then and I forgot when I was at Peter’s when the attack happened and—” 

“Candy,” John murmured, his arm winding around your body and pulling you further into his side. “It wasn’t your fault.” 

You pressed your face further into him, your tears beginning to soak the shirt he was wearing but he didn’t care. 

“You’re a force to be reckoned with, Candy,” John continued, his lips pressed against the top of your head as he left a lingering kiss. “None of it was your fault.”

You stayed silent. 

“And you’re not a bad person. You’re allowed to get angry and upset. You’re allowed to lash out.” John pressed another kiss to your forehead. “Your brother loves you and nothing will ever change that.”

John held you in his arms as the two of you sat on the floor of your wardrobe. He held you as you cried and cried until you couldn’t anymore. He held you until keeping your eyes open was too much. And then he carried you to bed, taking his spot in your room and letting the silence settle over the room until the next morning. 

The apology from Timo didn’t really come in the form of words, maybe because you and your brother both knew that more than words were needed. It was at the next Devils Sunday dinner. He didn’t say anything as he placed a box on your plate (a box you recognised with the logo of Peter’s Bakery) and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

“We will never let them win,” he murmured, the same words he whispered that fateful night in San Jose before the two of you escaped. 

“Never,” you whispered back.

Timo just smiled, soft and genuine and just as forgiving as it was apologetic, before he settled down in his spot at the table.

He didn’t even say anything about John’s arm wrapped around the back of your chair for the duration of the whole dinner.

…

The days passed and still no attack came.

The deal with the Rangers was becoming more serious. Not that you doubted Nico’s word at all. It was just…rivalry against the Rangers was all you had known. You heard whispers about them when you were on the west coast. You saw the extent of their violence when you and Timo fled to New Jersey. 

It was hard to imagine a life where that violence wasn’t instigated, wasn’t retaliated against, wasn’t sought out. 

“It will work.” 

You raised your brows, watching the way Nico was nodding to himself as he glanced over the papers in front of him. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” 

Jack snorted. “More like Jesper. He doesn’t think it’s a good idea.” 

“He doesn’t trust them,” Nico corrected.

 “And, to be fair, they have given us no reason to trust them,” you added.

“Just as much as they should trust us,” John deadpanned, once again refusing to sit down as he stood left to your chair. 

“They need it as much as we do,” Nico pointed out. 

“What stock could they possibly need from us?” You questioned, watching the way the boy paused before clearing his throat. Your eyes narrowed at your boss, like it would be enough to see the thoughts whirling around in his head. “Nico, what did you agree to?” 

Nico let out a sigh, leaning back in his chair. “A marriage.” 

Jack blinked.

“A marriage?” You repeated, hissing. “Are you crazy? You want to join us to them forever like that?” 

“It’s an alliance, Candy,” Nico stated simply. “The idea is that it would be long lasting.” 

“But a marriage, Nico,” you shook your head. “They wouldn’t just accept a random marriage, not unless Trouba thought he could find a way to get into the top circle. Who did you offer up?” 

“Why? You offering yourself?” Jack asked, his lips twitching upwards. 

But the joke fell flat when John stepped forward, stepped closer to you. “No. She’s not.” 

Your eyes widened a little at the biting tone in his voice. “Hey—”

“You are not marrying any of them,” John gritted out through clenched teeth. “I refuse.” 

“You refuse?” You repeated, your head tilting as you turned to look at the boy in disbelief. “Pretty sure it’s my decision, Johnny.”

“Yeah, Johnny,” Jack said, his eyes glittering in amusement. Not that you could see it, with your focus now turned to the other boy. But John could see it. He could see it and could see the way Jack was actively holding back his laughter. “If Candy wants to marry one of Trouba’s men, then who are we to stop her?” 

John’s jaw clenched, an emotion you couldn’t quite read shining in his eyes. “No.” 

Nico sighed deeply.

Jack snorted. “You’re not even being subtle about it, bud.” 

You whirled around. “Subtle about what?” 

Jack simply lifted his hands in mock surrender. 

You turned back to look at John, a mix of emotions flooding through you when he failed to meet your eyes. “I thought you never lied to me.” 

“I’m not lying,” John said, his eyes locked on Jack, who was beaming in response. 

“No, he’s just omitting to tell the truth,” Jack retorted.

“Jack,” Nico said in a warning voice.

“Oh, come on,” Jack whined, turning to pout at the older boy. “We all know John is just—” 

“Enough,” Nico interrupted, shaking his head. “Go to Peter’s.” 

Jack frowned. “What?”

“I’m telling you right now to go stake out at Peter’s tonight,” Nico said—or, more accurately, commanded. “I want you to stick to the post for the rest of the night.” 

Jack opened his mouth to argue but noted the glare Nico was sending him and—smartly—decided to keep his mouth shut. He glanced between you and John, muttering something under his breath before he jumped off his spot on the desk and made his way towards the door.

“And just to be clear,” Nico spoke up before Jack could leave the room. “Candy is not the one marrying a Ranger. None of you are.”

John’s brows furrowed together. “So who is?”

“Me.”

…

You hadn’t said a word to John since the two of you left Nico’s study. 

It was one thing to make a deal with the Rangers. It was another for that deal to include an arranged marriage, something that seemed so archaic and old-fashioned for Nico’s taste. But for Nico himself to be involved? To tie himself to the Rangers in such a way? 

It was fucking mind-blowing.

You could only imagine the kind of girl the Rangers would offer to play the part of Nico Hischier’s wife.

But despite the revelation, your mind was reeling for a very different reason. And said reason happened to be just behind you, dressed in all black (no surprise there) and looking like a damn kicked puppy at the silent treatment you had been giving him.

John watched you with careful eyes as you swung the door to your bedroom open, barely acknowledging the small ‘ooft’ he let out when the rebound of the door almost hit him in the face. 

“Candy–” John started the second the door clicked shut behind him.

But you barely gave him the chance to continue, already spinning around on your heel to glare at him. “Do not even try it.” 

“I meant what I said when I told you I would never lie to you,” John said, staying rooted in his spot even though his stomach twisted at the hurt written across your face. “I have never lied to you. I swear on my life.” 

You watched him for a few moments, a muscle in your jaw ticking before you asked him something that completely caught him off guard. 

“Why did you take this job?”

John blinked. “What?”

“Why did you take this job?” You repeated, keeping your eyes locked on him as you took a step closer. 

“You know why,” John said, swallowing harshly. “You were a target and Nico appointed me as your bodyguard—”

“That’s not the only reason,” you said bluntly. “There is more to it. You know it. Jack knows it. Hell, everyone but me seems to know it. So what is the reason?” 

John let out a breath. “I can’t tell you.” 

You took another step towards him, eyes narrowed in determination. “Can’t or won’t?” 

John could feel his chest tightening. “Candy, please.” 

“You may not have been lying before but you weren’t telling me the truth,” you questioned, pausing when you were right in front of him. “Why did you take this job?” 

John shook his head.

“John,” you rasped. “Tell me.” 

He kept shaking his head. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because it will change nothing!” John frowned a little, clearing his throat as he lowered his voice. “Because I can’t do anything about it.” 

You blinked, confused. “What?” 

“Can we please just drop this?” John whispered, his voice cracking a little. 

“No,” you shook your head, determined. “What won’t it change?” 

John pressed his lips together.

You sighed. “Johnny—”

“Us,” John finally muttered out. “It won’t change us. It won’t change how I feel about you. It won’t change the fact that you’re you and you’re Timo’s sister and I shouldn’t want you but I really fucking do and—”

“Kiss me.”

John blinked, stuttering over his choked breath. “Candy, you don’t mean that.”

“Did I stutter?” You retorted.

“We can’t,” John tried again, but you could see his resolve crumbling. You could see the way his eyes dropped to your lips, the way they lingered on your mouth. 

“Says who?” You asked, watching as the boy failed to find a response. “Kiss me, Johnny.”

John waited one, two, three seconds before he surged forward, before his hands cupped your face and his lips were pressed against yours with a passion you had never experienced before. You barely had a chance to grip his shirt before he was tugging you closer, before he was tilting his head and deepening the kiss and moaning against your lips like it was the hottest thing he had ever done in his life.

In some ways, it was. 

Years of fantasies and feelings and thoughts and dreams lead to this moment. Years of John keeping his feelings hidden, keeping them locked away, thinking he never stood a chance. Years of him hopelessly pining and wanting and wishing. Years of just loving you just how you were. 

His fingers entangled themselves in your hair, tilting your head to match his pace as his other hand slid down to wind around your waist and pull you closer. He heard the little gasp you let out, felt the way you fisted the fabric of his shirt, listened to the little breathless ‘Johnny’ you sighed against his lips.

He felt feral. 

He hadn’t even noticed you slowly leading him deeper into the room, step by step, until your knees hit the back of the bed and you were dragging him down with you. Only then did the last few minutes seem to hit him like a freight train. He pushed up onto his elbows, chest heaving with soft pants and face flushed as he stared down at you. 

“Candy—” He started but you quickly placed your finger over his lips..

“I want this. I want you. I don’t want to hear whatever noble bullshit you have been telling yourself to hold yourself back. I just want you, Johnny,” you said, breathing heavily as your eyes lingered on his kiss-swollen lips before returning to meet his gaze. “If you don’t want this, then I get that. But only if you don’t want this. Nothing to do with my brother or some bullshit sense of morality or the rest of this damn house.” 

John swallowed, lifting one hand to slowly push some hair away from your face and tuck it behind your ear. You waited with a bated breath, watching as his eyes took in every single detail of you before he leaned down to kiss you—sweeter, softer than before.

“I want you more than you could ever know,” he whispered against your lips, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he spoke.

“Kiss me again,” you murmured, pushing your cheek further into his touch.

“Whatever you want, Candy,” John murmured before leaning down to kiss you again. 

…

The attack happened three days later. 

It was anticipated, just not on a warehouse you were expecting. The knowledge that the pattern you thought you had noticed was actually false laid heavy on all your shoulders, as the realisation of something much bigger than any of you were anticipating settled. This went beyond a few targeted attacks, this went beyond you. 

This was the start of a war, and even if none of you wanted to say it out loud, you were all thinking it.

“What now?” Jack asked as you all stood around Nico’s study, staring helplessly at the map laid out on Nico’s desk.

“We prepare ourselves,” Nico said, his voice sounding heavy and tired. You didn’t even blame him. He had been keeping on a confident front, letting the others think that they had this all under control because he couldn’t spiral. He couldn’t let them all think there was a reason to panic. You could only imagine how much harder it was getting with each passing day, with each attack.

Jesper raised his brows. “So you’re breaking the deal with the Rangers?” 

“No,” Nico shook his head, letting out a long sigh. It had been a recurring argument between the two of them for the last few weeks. “If this means what we think it means, it would be more beneficial to us to have the Rangers as allies.” 

“Unless they are the ones behind it,” Jesper retorted.

“I’m going through with the deal and that’s final,” Nico said, raising his voice a little. It wasn’t a lot. But it was enough for everyone else in the room to fall silent. “And if you keep being pissy about it, I’ll make sure you sit next to Timo at the wedding.” 

Jesper gaped. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Nico’s eyes glimmered. “But I would.”

“Woah, why is that a bad thing?” Timo scoffed, looking between the two of them with a frown. “I’m a fucking delight.”

Suddenly, everyone else looked away. 

Timo’s frown deepened. “What? What is everyone not telling me?” 

It was at that very moment Luke walked through the door, foil packet rustling loudly as he shoved his hand in it and kicked the door closed behind him. He paused when he noted the tension in the room, glancing between everyone with pinched eyebrows.

“Damn, I didn’t know getting snacks for a team meeting was illegal.”

“Rusty!” Timo whirled around, his eyes gleaming. “Did they tell you too?” 

“Tell me what?” Luke questioned before his eyes widened. “Oh shit, they told you John finally grew a pair and made a move on Candy? Huh, you’re much calmer than I—”

“JOHN DID WHAT?!”

Luke paused, his lips parting in realisation. “Oh. Whoops.”

Timo whirled around to look at you and then John, seeming to finally notice the arm the boy had wrapped around your waist. He gasped loudly, shaking his head as he placed a hand on his chest. 

“And you all fucking knew? Oh god, the betrayal! It hurts! It physically hurts!” 

“I am not sitting beside that at the wedding,” Jesper said, shaking his head. “Look how dramatic he is being!”

“He will mellow out by the wedding,” Nico responded, looking far too amused by the theatrics playing out in the middle of his study. 

“It’s Timo. When the fuck as he ever mellowed out?” Jesper retorted with a scoff. 

You turned to find John watching your older brother with a pinched expression. It would have made you snort if you couldn’t feel the way he was gripping your hips, like he was ready to put you between him and your dramatic brother.

“Welcome to the family, Johnny.” 

John’s nose scrunched. “I take it all back.” 

You snorted. “Too late. No returns. You’re stuck with me.” 

“It’s not you I want to return,” John retorted, pulling you closer to him. “I’d do it all over again if I could be stuck with you for the rest of my life.” 

“Sap,” you grinned, looking far too pleased with his admission. “Even if you have to take on my brother?” 

John’s eyes softened as he turned to look at you. “Nothing could scare me away from you, baby. Nothing.”

You beamed. “Good, because you have about thirty seconds before Timo realises he has free will and a gun in his left holster.” 

There was a lot that was uncertain about the future, but you were pretty damn confident that John Marino was not one of them.

.

[ms-demeanor]

i mean realistically many people do deserve to be the victims of targeted harassment campaigns. if you're being an asshole you deserve to be screamed at by everyone present until you stop. some people commit acts of cruelty and subsequently forfeit their reasonable right to participate in society until they've made amends.

the people of wendy's have a moral right to scream at the manager if said manager sprays them in the neck with milkshake every time they go to pick up their order

damn following up the last ask, ig it was someone in ur notes constructing an equivalence between @tting staff and getting nuked to yelling at a wendy's manager and getting kicked out. my bad lol thought that was part of ur main post

I mean this is something that's still worthwhile to bounce off of even though you're not actually responding to me.

First of all, no, I pretty much don't think that anybody deserves to be the focus of a targeted harassment campaign. At least not the kind that are spun up on tumblr or twitter. I generally think that targeted harassment campaigns don't work to change minds, they only work to torment, isolate, and attack people, which will often further entrench them in their positions.

Sometimes people doing serious antifascist work will make a discovery like, for instance "the principal of X school is a vicious antisemite" and will run an *exposure* campaign to get them removed from a position of power, but with very few exceptions when you see an online callout post for a random internet user it's nothing but abuse and an attempt to bully them off of a specific website, not an attempt to protect victims or inform people of a genuine threat. "ABC is the new alt of this person with a documented history of starting cults, DNI, block and move on" is very different than "This specific user who is on staff posts harry potter fanart and is why fascists continue to exist on tumblr, let's make sure they know what tumblr thinks of them."

You are trying to frame bullying campaigns as normal consequences for antisocial behavior, but the antisocial behaviors under discussion here are "user posted fanart broadly disliked by the community and associated with specific ideologies long after the initial fandoms were crystallized" and "is the CEO of a social media website that is implementing features that the users dislike."

"People deserve to be screamed at until they stop the bad behavior" is punitive and shitty and so broad and open to so many interpretations that you're basically saying "it's open season on screaming at people." I think that it's bad behavior to support neoliberal political candidates who prop up capitalism but it would be horrible for me to run harassment campaigns against everyone who says "vote blue no matter who" even though I think that attitude perpetuates real world harms. (And it also wouldn't convince those people to change their minds! The fact that I think they are doing something harmful doesn't give me the social license to send hundreds of people to harass them! And it wouldn't work! These kinds of campaigns don't effect change they just isolate people and erode trust and civility jesus fuck we need to be coalition building not posting callouts over whatever activity has been deemed "freak behavior" this week)

some people commit acts of cruelty and subsequently forfeit their reasonable right to participate in society until they've made amends.

oh buddy, I think I get where you're coming from here but considering the kinds of behavior under discussion this is just straight up fascist. You are literally saying that people should be banished from society for wrongthink because nobody under discussion here has actually committed an act of cruelty.

(one of the things that i'm putting under the heading of "tumblr conspiracist thinking" is "staff is currently and continually intentionally flagging certain LGBTQ tags and bloggers" - there is ample evidence that the current staff is working to unfuck flagging and blocked tags that was done long before this crew was working on it. People talk about "tumblr had to settle because their filtering disproportionately impacted lgbtq+ creators" and that is TRUE however that was a filter that was established under different owners with different policies and different staff; the implication that the current staff is guilty of trying to stifle LGBTQ+ content because a lawsuit started before the Automattic purchase of tumblr ended in a financial settlement is just bad, wrong, incorrect, faulty logic. And if I might indulge in a bit of my own conspiracist thinking: I actually suspect a lot of the flagging and tagging and blocking of trans women specifically might actually be targeted attacks of individual users by terfs - many of the things that are getting flagged as needing a community label are things that use tags that terfs follow to attack and if enough users click "this needs a community label" the post will get flagged - I don't know that that's what's going on but just operating on occam's razor I think it's a lot more likely that terfs are coordinating attacks on trans people than that there is a secret group of cryptoterfs on staff taking time out of their day to ensure that trans users get flagged, if only because I think that the vocally trans positive former members of the staff would have said something about it.)

So, given that my position is "it is unlikely that anyone on staff is intentionally targeting LGBTQ+ groups HOWEVER prior policies enacted harm against LGBTQ+ groups and there is visible evidence that the current staff is trying to repair that damage" I'm not seeing any behaviors here that call for individual employees or users to get targeted with harassment from thousands of users.

But anyway, back to the specifics of the ask:

some people commit acts of cruelty and subsequently forfeit their reasonable right to participate in society until they've made amends.

Do you have any idea how frequently amends are made and never circulated as widely as the callout post? Do you have any idea how frequently callout posts are incorrect, and exaggerate the things that need to be amended? I'm reminded of Lindsey Ellis, who was the victim of a years-long targeted harassment campaign and made multiple apologies over the years who was finally driven off of her primary platform because she carelessly misspoke and the people who had been targeting her for years were able to make a post that she had long disavowed and was a relic of her dealing with the aftermath of sexual violence go viral. The internet doesn't let people make amends; people see accusations. They see the first post, not the follow up. That's why starting these campaigns is shitty and dangerous even if you *personally* believe that you'll forgive an individual once they "make amends." (and the "amends" people usually demand are "i want this person gone from the internet forever and cut out of this part of their life" - that's not really something that's fair to ask of people when so much of the world is online these days.)

the people of wendy's have a moral right to scream at the manager if said manager sprays them in the neck with milkshake every time they go to pick up their order

No they don't. Straight up. If the manager of a wendy's sprays you in the neck with a milkshake you have the right to escalate your complaint right up the chain, take your business away and never come back, warn other people "hey the manager sprayed me with a milkshake, stay away," but you don't have the moral right to escalate the situation by screaming at them (and you certainly don't have that right if you happened to get sprayed with some milkshake while the manager was attempting to fix the frostee machine when you came to pick up your order, which I think is actually more analogous to what is happening here).

someone in ur notes constructing an equivalence between @tting staff and getting nuked to yelling at a wendy's manager and getting kicked out

A big point that I think you're missing here is that @-ing staff when there is a problem on a post or you see harassment is generally pretty acceptable (though much less effective than filing a support claim), but the issue under discussion isn't @-ing staff, it was pointing thousands of angry people at two specific people who are *part* of staff and holding those two individuals responsible for all the problems that users see with tumblr.

partyjockers got nuked because their post directed a flood of harassment at one staff member in a post where they had highlighted that user's URL and name:

This is explicitly saying "users like the one I screenshotted are the reason you're being attacked by terfs" because one member of staff posted fanart from two franchises that tumblr-the-userbase has deemed off limits.

(Do you have any idea how extreme a bubble this is? Do you walk into barnes and noble and sigh because the managers are fascists who want trans people dead because there's harry potter merch everywhere? JK rowling is a terf and a horrible fucking person and I am no longer personally comfortable engaging with that fandom but people posting fanart of a franchise are not personally attacking you even if it feels like they are disregarding your humanity; you cannot consider other people's participation in huge, popular, mainstream fandoms as a sign that they are plotting against you this is why i'm calling this conspiracist thinking the entire scorched earth conspiracy spawned from someone interpreting a staff member's art as esoteric signposts signalling their hatred of trans people. Do you remember when the stupid harry potter game came out and this entire website was despondent because it meant that people didn't care about trans people? That's not actually what it meant! What it meant is that the vast majority of people on the planet have neither a twitter nor a tumblr account and have no idea how shitty JK rowling is to trans people and they don't interpret "harry potter imagery" as "covert terf signal" they interpret it as "possibly the most mainstream fantasy series in the last fifty years")

This isn't someone calling out the manager after they spray you with a milkshake. The manager asking someone to leave after they started screaming that the cashier's earrings were hate speech.

This analogy got out of hand but please just understand that there's a difference between @-ing an account that people are paid to monitor as part of their jobs and that they have support and coworkers to help with and @-ing someone's personal account.

Nobody got a post deleted because the used @ staff, they got their posts deleted because they focused viral negative attention on individual users.

[thedevildompolybunch]

Irresistible Attraction (Mammon X Body Insecure MC) 18+ Fluffy Smut

Sorry this took so long! I kept rewriting it trying to make it perfect! I’m excited to have finally completed it and I hope you like it! Thank you (Unknown if they want to be tagged) for the writing prompt. This has been a labor of love! I learned so much writing this! 

Summary: When Mammon realizes MC is avoiding his sexual advances, he attempts to figure out what’s going on. 

What to Expect: smut, AFAB, fluff, established relationship, unprotected sex, crying, insecurity, negative self talk, polycoded, Mammon is pushy and greedy but means well, MC is wearing pants and a shirt, shallowing, gender neutral, cum on body. 

I’m currently not accepting writing prompts, and plan to in the future once I get my guidelines situated. I was just super in love with the idea! 

Vulgar Language: cunt, pussy, cock, vagina, general swearing such as fuck, shit etc. 

Other ways to read (usually better formatting due to length)

Privatter.net (This version allows you to input your MC’s name and have it inserted into the story. Password: TheGreatMammon)

Archive of Our Own 

Chapter 1: Alone at Last

The unbearable tension that grew between Mammon and you was no longer ignorable. The two of you sat on his sofa making out while some video neither of you planned to watch continued to play. 

Wrapping a hand behind your thigh, he effortlessly hiked you onto his lap to deepen the kiss. The feel of your tongue against his was waning on his already diminishing inhibitions.

“Ya know, this is all your fault human.” 

He broke the kiss, his lips sensually brushing past yours as he began to speak. 

“If ya didn’t go and tease me.” 

His tone was labored with ecstasy as he blamed you for both of your desires. 

“...This nevuh woulda happened.”

And, he was right, it truly did feel that way. Mammon’s sin gave him the insatiable desire to pursue all things that were valuable, and you were one of the greatest jewels. 

With both hands on your hips, he grinded you against the bulge of his pants. The pressure of his cock tempting your already swollen cunt. 

“Ya like that treasure?”

His question begged for your praise and his body demanded it. Rocking harder, he drew moan after moan out of you. The ownership of your current pleasure further enticing the greed that already resided inside him. 

“Fuck…” 

He bit at his bottom lip in an attempt to maintain his composure.

It didn’t work. 

Desperately he clawed into your thighs; steadying you as he rocked you into his wave-like motion.  The peak of each ripple elevating both of your arousals. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. His urges were becoming unmanageable and he would do anything to have more of you.

Leaning back, he caressed your sides, pulling at your shirt in an attempt to remove it. 

“Oh look, I’ve been wanting to see this.” 

Your words were random and they caught him off guard. Pointing over at the tv, you redirected his attention; using the moment to seamlessly adjust your shirt to cover back up.

Mammon looked over, only to see a video that neither of you would have wanted to watch. In fact, he wasn’t even sure what was playing at this point because it was just some random recommendation from Deviltube. Wait…was that an ad?

“Yo, are you serious!?”

Mammon was offended. The last few weeks everything had been more interesting than him, or at least he felt that way, and now you wanted to watch some random ad over fooling around with him? What the fuck was going on? 

“MC, ya got a problem or somethin’?” 

His callout made you freeze. He hadn’t said anything about the way you’ve been acting lately and you hoped it would have remained that way. 

“Like, I know you ain’t tryin' to watch that.” 

He gestured to the ad as it ended. Ugh, what bad timing. You thought to yourself. In all fairness you would have never pointed to the tv if you had known. 

“Sorry, I thought it was something else.”

You attempted to cover up your failing lie, but Mammon didn’t buy it.

“Seriously, what’s goin on?” 

Couldn’t he just let it go? 

“Mammon, I promise; nothing’s up. I just got a little nervous.”

You tried your luck at a half truth, but it seemed that it wasn’t in your cards to outwit him today. 

“That ain’t true, ya been actin’ weird for a bit.”

Been actin’ weird for a bit? Are you kidding me, he noticed? 

Of course he noticed. Mammon noticed most things about you, he loved to. But just this once, couldn’t he just leave it alone? It had nothing to do with him. 

The thoughts in your mind were racing and soon it was hard to find the right words. 

“We don’t gotta do this if ya don’t wanna.” 

That wasn’t it. You did ‘wanna’, you just couldn’t get out of your head long enough for that to happen. 

It had been weeks that you had been rejecting him, with little to no explanations, and he was beginning to wonder if you even liked him at all. 

“Oi! MC! Ya hear me?”

Mammon broke the silence with his worry, snapping his fingers in front of your face in an attempt to help you regain consciousness.

“We don’t gotta do nothin’ if ya..” 

His attempts at comfort only increased your anxiety. 

“N-no, no, that’s not it…Its…”

You began to stutter, quickly trying to find the words to make the conversation end. 

“What, What is it then?”

His fears cut you off, trying to speed up your answers. What did he do wrong? Why were you having so much trouble talking to him? 

“Did somethin’ happen?”

He was asking questions faster than you could answer, and even faster than you could process. 

Overwhelmed, you rushed for the door, Mammon swiftly following behind. 

“HEY! Wait, would ya?!” 

He reached out for your arm. 

“Leave me alone!”

Avoiding his grasp, you ran off; slamming the door behind you. 

💰💰💰💰💰

“And, you didn’t do anything?”

Asmo inquired after Mammon explained what had just happened. 

“What makes ya always think I did somethin’? I’m askin’ for your help, and this is what I get?”

“So, is that a no...or?”

“Asmo, I ain’t bein’ funny. You got that thing with MC tonight, ya gotta figure out what’s up.” 

“I don’t know, what’s in it for me? ♪”

The nerve. That was Mammon’s job. 

“You kiddin’ me? Nothin’, the satisfaction of helpin’ your older brother out.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about that.”

“I don’t want to hear ya askin’ me for nothin’ ever again then.” 

“Hun, you're the last demon I’d ask for something.”

Mammon let out a groan of frustration. Resorting to his next best plan…guilt. 

“I can’t believe you would treat your older brother like this! After all I’ve done for ya…”

His animated hand motions expressed his annoyance. 

“Like that time I returned your bracelet back to ya instead of sellin’ it.” 

“You were the one who stole it, sweetie.”

“Point bein’, I didn’t sell it! I brought it back to ya! That thing was worth major grimm, I coulda made bank!”

He left out the part where he only returned it because he was caught in the middle of the transaction. 

Asmo rolled his eyes, his next words, putting Mammon out of his misery. 

“Alright, I’ll do it.” 

It took Mammon a moment to realize that Asmo had agreed to his plea. 

“Oh, and how abou...Really?”

“Yeah, why not?” 

Asmo shrugged as if the answer had been easy all along. Because it had. The moment he realized it was something involving you, he knew he was going to say yes. It was just an added bonus to be able to get under Mammon’s skin for a bit. 

Pulling out his phone, he reminded you of your date; reassuring Mammon that he was serious. 

Asmo: “Don’t forget 😉”

MC: “Wouldn’t miss it!”

Chapter 2: Spilling the Tea 

Asmo laid next to you on his bed in nothing more than a robe. The floral smell of his body oil was soothing yet overwhelming. 

“So, these were the earlier designs and I thought they were a bit boring, so I came out with these…”

He opened a velvet lined box that revealed the prototypes of a new ring collection he had been designing for his jewelry line.

“Aren't they just perfect? No need to answer that, I designed them, I know they are! ♡”

Winding down with Asmo was pleasant. He’d always have a warm cup of tea waiting for you, a new beauty product to try…usually several, and he led most of the conversation; leaving you to just sit there and relax as he kept you updated on all things him.

“Oh and that’s not even the best part, the finished ones are each going to have their own unique charm that grants the wearer a different magical effect.” 

He continued to fill you in. 

“...I haven’t figured out all the details yet because I need to run it by Diavolo, and all, but I absolutely think everyone will love this line, I mean, how couldn’t you? ♡” 

Asmo sprung up with enthusiasm at his own bragging.  

“Try one on! I’d bet these would look just stunning on you!”

Pulling a ring out of the box, he slid it onto your finger, holding your hand in his palm to get a better view. 

“aaaannnnd…look at that, I was right.”

He moved your hand around to let the ring shine. 

“That looks absolutely gorgeous on you! ♡ ”

Admiring it for a few more moments, he sensually caressed the tips of your fingers with his thumb. 

“But, that’s not a surprise, everything looks gorgeous on you.”

His words were sweet and complemented by a wink and a smile.

“ Speaking of… ♪” 

 He let go of your hand. 

“That outfit I ordered you last week, It came in this morning, right?”

Removing the ring from your finger, he placed it back into the box. 

“Have you tried it on yet? Do you love it? I bet you look absolutely Devilgramable in it!”

Asmo sat up in excitement at the thought, eagerly awaiting your feedback. 

“I haven’t had time to try it on yet.”

“Awww, really?”

He pouted in disappointment.

“...I wanted to see it.”

Silence filled the air for a moment as Asmo sulked. He really wanted to know what it looked like on you because he was positive it would accentuate your best features. 

“...Oooh! You know what!”

He perked up with enthusiasm, eager to express the thought that had popped into his head. 

“I have a fun idea! Why don’t we try on outfits for each other? I have one I’ve been wanting to show you and I wouldn’t mind seeing how you look in the one I bought!”

Your stomach dropped. That sounded like anything but fun. Because the truth was, you had tried on that outfit; you just hated it. 

The concept was cute, you loved how it looked when Asmo and you saw it on the rack; but after actually seeing it on yourself; you felt that it highlighted all your insecurities. How were you going to tell him that? He was so modelesque, it was intimidating.

“I’d rather not, I’m kind of tired.”

Strange. Asmo thought to himself, noticing the subtle shift in your demeanor. This was similar to what Mammon had described to him earlier. 

“You ok, sweetie?”

He was relieved to finally get the chance to inquire about your problem. It had been on his mind since Mammon had brought it to his attention, and he was finding it unusually difficult to think about only himself.

“Y-Yeah, Yeah, I’m fine.”

Noticing your growing discomfort, he took your hand into his. 

“Hun, you’re not fooling anyone. What’s going on?” 

His thumb caressed over the top of your palm to show his support.

“You told me you loved that outfit in the shop and now it’s like you could care less about it, and a little birdy told me you’ve been avoiding their advances lately.” 

Wow, subtle. Wasn’t anything private in this house? 

“So, Mammon talked to you?”

“He might have said something… ♪”

His fingers played with yours in an attempt to soothe you. 

“Plllleeaaase don’t be mad at me. I just want to be here for you.” 

He pleaded for your forgiveness.

“Come on, you know you can talk to me.”

His tone was warm and his smile was inviting, complimenting his already striking features. Fuck he was beautiful…He was always so beautiful. He could pull off anything he wore and even when he thought he didn’t look good, he did. How could you even begin talking to him about what was going on? What would he think? 

The words once again struggled to find their way out of your mouth as you attempted to confide in him. 

“I-I-I don’t like the way I look.” 

Asmo’s face dropped at the meaning of what you said. His hand gripping yours tighter to show his support. 

“I-I don't know, I just don’t think I look good in most things.”

Your voice cracked as you held back tears, battling the thoughts in your head. You weren’t quite sure how to explain your issue to Asmo the Avatar of Lust; and rightly self proclaimed the avatar of beauty. 

“Like, what would Mammon even think if he saw me naked?”

Tears began to roll down your face as you confessed your fears. 

“Oh sweetie…”

He cupped your face into his hands, guiding your gaze to his to show his sincerity. 

“That you’re the hottest being he’d ever seen.” 

His eyes welled up with tears as he expressed his truth. He could relate to your insecurities; he too felt insecure about his body from time to time. It was constantly a losing game, and it broke his heart to think you were feeling the same. 

“I don’t know how to tell you this lovely, but you’re wrong. You're one of the prettiest beings I’ve laid my eyes on.”

The tears he was holding back, slowly began to drip down his face.

“Before you,  I’ve never met anyone who’s come close to matching my beauty.”

His lips grazed against yours as he resisted the impulse to kiss you; fearing it may tarnish his intentions. 

“And, I’ve been to 3 worlds.”

Pulling you into his comforting embrace, he rubbed his hands up and down your back in an attempt to soothe your stress.

“MC, I’m obsessed with the way you look, almost as much as I’m obsessed with the way I do. I wouldn’t want you to change it for the world. We are easily the hottest couple to walk down the streets of the Devildom and our presence together is unmatched.” 

His voice rang softly into your ear, as he snuggled you tighter into his arms.

“You are so attractive. And I think anyone would be lucky to see you naked.” 

Releasing you from his embrace, he settled down next to you. Guiding your head to rest against his shoulder. 

“Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror and I don’t even want to leave the house.”

Taking in a breath of air to stifle the remaining tears he had left; he attempted to connect with you. 

“I don’t always feel pretty either…”

He gently massaged the top of your head, slowly easing you both to sleep. 

“...As shocking as that may seem.”

Leaning back, you both rested on each other in silence; the sweet aroma of tea and perfume comforting your spiraling thoughts. 

💰💰💰💰💰

It was the middle of the night when Asmo was awoken by the buzz of his phone.

“Yo!” 

“Hey!” 

“I know ya seein this!” 

“Asmo!”

“Ya betta not be doin’ anything funny with MC.”

“Ya suppose to be helpin’ me out dontcha forget!”

“Imma just message ya till ya respond.” 

Tiredly Asmo attempted to respond, only to be interrupted by an incoming call from Mammon.

Hitting the reject button before the sound could disrupt your sleep he followed up with a text. 

“Calm down sweetie, I got your answer.”

Chapter 3: Irresistible Attraction 

Sitting up on your bed, you checked your phone…nothing. Mammon hadn’t talked, texted or seen you since that night and you wondered how long it would be until he did. It was unlike him to stay upset with you for this long, usually by now he would have at the very least come up with an excuse to talk to you. 

But, maybe he didn’t want to talk to you anymore.

Maybe Asmo reported back to Mammon like you suspected he would.

And, Maybe Mammon decided that he was done with you. 

Ugh, the thought of that put a pit in your stomach. Closing the messenger app, you switched to Devilgram; hoping the endless scroll would drown out your unwanted thoughts. 

“Are you blind or just stupid!?”

The sound of Mammon’s voice bursting into the room startled you. 

“I hear ya don’t think ya look good?”

He slammed the door behind himself as he made his way towards the bed. 

“I don’t know where ya got that dumb idea from, cause it ain’t true. I mean look at ya…”

His hand gestured in the air to check out your body as he questioned the information as though he got it wrong. 

“...You’re the fuckin hottest.” 

Plopping down at the foot of the bed, he continued. 

“Like, how can ya even think that?”

Mammon was at a loss. He checked you out for a moment to try to imagine what you saw. But he couldn’t, he could never think of you as unattractive. Was your mirror in your room broken or somethin?  

“What? Do ya gotta hear me say it?”

In all honesty, you did. It was hard to say it to yourself sometimes and how did you know Mammon actually did feel that way? Nodding your head yes, your words came out as a whisper. 

“Yeah…” 

It was embarrassing to answer him. But, it was even more embarrassing for him to answer you. 

“Yo, like, really?”

He shifted in his spot to expel anxiety. 

“I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

But he did want to. He just couldn’t get out of his own thoughts long enough to…oh. 

The correlation between your feelings became clear to him. 

Truth be told, Mammon didn’t want to tell you all that stuff, because what were you going to think of him? He can’t be soft and sensitive; he was a demon after all and that wasn’t cool.

But, you not knowing how attractive he found you, that also wasn’t cool. Looking away, he rubbed the back of his neck to soothe his nerves, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. 

“I think ya look pretty amazin’.”

His confession was unpoetic but genuine. 

“Like, really amazin’…” 

He paused nervously between his words. 

“...I can’t stop looking at ya.”

His hands and eyes gestured towards you in an expressive motion that attempted to get you to see what he saw. 

Leaning beside you on the bed, he rested on his arm; as he continued his monologue. 

“Like, ya know those statues we learned about in human world history? The ones that are usually naked and shit?” 

the Greek ones? Confused about where this was going, you continued to listen to Mammon as he attempted to clarify his motives. 

“Yeah, ya make me think of those. Because like, they're pretty and stuff.”

“I remember hearin’ from Lucifer that they were known for their ‘natural beauty’ or some shit and it made me think about how they’re a lot like you.”

His heart rate began to pick up as he went on, his eyes checking out your body.

“I don’t know what to tell ya MC…”

His cock tightened his pants.

“I think ya fuckin’ hot” 

Blush lit up his face as he swallowed the feelings of his arousal; his gaze returning back to yours. 

“Besides, ya betta stop insultin’ me. The Great Mammon doesn’t just stare at anything, ya know?” 

His hand cupped your face; the flat of his thumb sensually rolling over the softness of your lips.

“So, cut it out with this ‘I don’t look pretty,’ trash.”

His words aimed to disprove you as his face leaned closer to yours. 

“Cause ya are pretty…”

He kissed your lips. Pulling away to berate you once more. 

“...Stupid….” 

With his face just a few inches away from yours, his eyes begged asked for another kiss. To which you responded with your lips against his. The validation of your interest re-igniting the weeks of tension that had built up between the two of you. 

Rolling you into the mattress, he slipped his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your moans of ecstasy as they escaped your lips.

Oh how badly he'd been wanting you. And the feeling of your body writhing underneath his told him just how much you wanted him too. 

Steadying himself onto his knees between your legs, he removed his shirt; following it up by sliding yours up and over your breasts; purposely keeping the fabric on to accommodate your comfort. 

He took a moment to admire your body as it laid before him, his hands caressing up and down your shape. 

“I ain’t got a clue what you see, Treasure.”

His words reassured you of his unconditional attraction.

“Because ya body is bangin’” 

Resting his hands on either side of your head, he leaned in; kissing the skin of your neck. 

Small whimpers of desire escaped your lips as he worked his way down the front of your body. The temperature of his labored breaths, only adding to the already tantalizing sensation. 

Your fingers desperately clutched at his hair as he sucked the top of your breasts, leaving small marks of possession. 

Continuously he made his way down, his lips appreciating every part of your body they came across, until he was stopped by the waistband of your pants. 

Biting the fabric, he pulled at the top with his teeth, using his hands to assist him in sliding them over your ass and off your body.

Damn. He thought, as he checked you out. What was it ya didn’t like? 

He growled as he nipped at the skin of your calves, pecking his way back up to your neck. His body pressing up against yours as he leaned in. The bulge of his pant’s applying pressure to your sensitive clit. 

“Yo, ya gotta stop doin’ this to me…” 

You moaned as you felt him twitch. The wetness from your arousal seeping through his pants.

“Ya know it’s hard for a Demon to resist somethin’ like you.” 

Fully succumbing to his sin; he balanced on one arm to release his cock. You whimpered as it rested against your swollen cunt, slowly being rocked by the movement of his returning kiss.

Thrusting his hips, Mammon’s shaft continued to tease your folds. The repeated friction teetering you on the edge.

Fuck! You thought. The ache between your legs was insufferable. And with each sway of his hips it was only getting worse.

Instinctively you pulled him in, grinding back in an attempt to keep it going. Fuck, he felt so good, you were so close, you could just…

The tip of Mammon’s cock slid inside you by mistake; causing you both to let out moans that could be heard from outside of the room. 

Re-orienting himself, he swayed barely an inch into your entrance; stimulating all the sensitive nerves that resided there. Your body trembled as he teased the most shallowest parts of your vagina.

Mammon was greedy in every way, and that included when it came to your pleasure. In this moment; every moan, movement, and gasp that came from you was his, and only his; and nothing tempted his sin more. 

Stepping off the bed, Mammon pulled you to the edge; positioning your legs on either side of his waist to give himself more control. 

His heart raced as he slid himself back into you, both your bodies shaking with euphoria  as he slowly worked himself in and out, gradually increasing his depth. The adrenaline that was rushing through the both of yous was no longer able to be ignored.

Tilting your hips to reach the correct angle, Mammon filled you with his length, growling as his hips met yours. 

You tightened your thighs together as he thrusted deep into you, grinding his curve up against your g-spot. Your pussy twitching around him as he controlled the rhythm of his hips.

Purposely he maintained a speed that was less than you wanted; indulging in the whimpers of your desires. Leaning his hands on the bed, he lost himself in the image of your body, mesmerized by the beauty of your motions below him. 

He was so in love with you, he couldn’t believe it. He’d pleasure you all day if you’d let him, but he knew he couldn’t because eventually your human body would give up. 

Finally giving you what you wanted, he steadied his motion; rocking hard and consistently against your spot. At this point, being aroused was painful.

Please Please Please. You begged in your mind. You couldn't take it any more. Out of breath and dizzy you clawed into his back to try to release some of  your torturous pleasure. 

“Come on, Treasure.” 

Mammon cheered you on through his labored breaths. You both were reaching sexual exhaustion. You had played this game too long.

“Come on, MC.”

He gritted his teeth, carefully keeping the pace of his motion.

“Oh yes, like that.”

You praised him to make sure he would continue.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You were so fucking close!

Wrapping your legs around him you grinded hard onto your g-spot. The deep pressure stimulating your clit. 

“I-I-m, gonna…”

Your moans rang through the room as you came; the warm sensation of your orgasm pushing him dangerously over the edge. 

Pulling out, Mammon wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked; releasing himself onto your stomach. 

“Fuck, I fucking love you treasure.”

His hands once again resided on either side of your head as he caught his breath. Time felt as if it froze as the two of you attempted to center yourself. Mammon’s hair brushing past your face acting as your anchor. 

Stepping out of his pants, Mammon dropped to his forearms to kiss your lips; rubbing his thumbs caringly over the top of your forehead.

“I love you, MC.”

He kissed your lips again. 

“And there ain’t anythin’ in this world that could get me to stop.”

His eyes gazed into yours to show his sincerity. Kissing your lips a few more times, he began to return back to reality. 

He winced as he noticed the cold stickiness of his cum between the two of you. 

Standing up, he looked around the room for a rag, settling on his shirt by the foot of the bed; he cleaned you up and wiped himself off; tossing it to the side when he was done. 

He assisted you under the sheets, following in after you. Laying down, he pulled you onto his chest, wrapping his arm around your back to keep you close. The feeling of your heart beating against his side relaxed him.  

He could have stayed like this forever. He never wanted to leave you. Not now, not ever. The last couple of weeks without you were lonely like he had never known and he was glad to have you back in his arms. 

Mammon may not have understood exactly what made you feel this way, but he was more than happy to remind you how much he loved you time and time again if it would help.

Kissing your forehead, he snuggled you even tighter, falling asleep to the faint sounds of your tired breaths.

Original Prompt (paraphrased):

Mammon and MC are sitting in his room and he tries to do it with her a lot but they keep stopping him. One day he gets mad and asks Asmo for help so Asmo asks Mc what the reason is. They tell him that she feels insecure about her body, and he comforts her and when Asmo tells Mammon about it, he goes to her and makes love to them. 

[nyhti]

Batman Rogues Tumblr AU:

Jervis:

-Joined Tumblr in 2009, has had the same blog all this time -Has a big follower count, but most of those blogs have long since been abandoned -Is very active -No sideblogs, everything from kink to cute animal pics is on the same blog -Has witnessed or been involved in every single major event in this site's history -Attended Dashcon (he was the one who pissed in the ball pit) -Involved in some sort of petty drama on a daily basis -Has a 20km long post of just going back and fort arguing with some random user. This argument started in 2016 and neither remembers what it even was about. He gets worried if the other person hasn't responded in a while. -Gets at least 3 callout posts a week. Always makes sure to reblog them and adds an essay underneath defending himself no matter if the callout post was about liking the wrong pony in MLP or murdering someone in cold blood. -Kinnie drama the likes of which you've never seen before -And in general just discord you never thought anyone could ever come up with -At this point you wonder if he's even having fun on this site, but he just keeps on reblogging bunny pics like it's nothing -Has a Wacom drawing tablet

Jonathan:

-Joined in 2011 after Jervis introduced him to the site -Has some really tacky theme he hasn't changed since 2013 -About a couple hundred followers, but they are very devoted. Lots of mutuals -579257405547 blurry photos of Nightmare -Post fics and essays on various topics he's been thinking about lately -Of course reblogs every single spoopy art piece he finds -Definitely does fic request -The most fucked up smut you've ever read -Like smut you don't even know is smut, because it's just that confusing -Most of his post don't get past 50 notes, but he has made a couple of post, mainly of the: ”Here's how you write x, y and z...” and ”As a Professor of Psychology, I can tell you...” variety, that have about 10 000 notes -Has a chill time on Tumblr -Only uses Tumblr on desktop. Has never even seen the app. -Completely unironically reblogs every cool skeleton on a motorcycle pic

Joker:

-Joined in 2013 -The only reason he joined is because he once came across a horny drawing of Batman and searching for the artist led him to Tumblr. -Starts writing a post, gets distracted mid way though and starts doing something else. Comes back to Tumblr 3 hours later, notices he was making a post, doesn't even bother rereading it despite not remembering what it was about and just hits posts. His blog is full of completely incomprehensible post that just stop mid way through -Makes a couple post that get so popular they are still making rounds today. They will always have additions like: ”I still can't believe this post was made by the fucking Joker” and ”Joker had a Tumblr?!” -Forgot his password a month after joining and never visited the site again. Barely remembers he ever had an account -Those true crime people still harvest his 20-post-pathetic-excuse-for-a-blog-blog for content to this day all the while completely ignoring all the rogues with still active (and better) blogs. They are saying things like: ”Ooohhhh, it's like a deep dive into his twisted mind :00” and are always trying to find some hidden symbolism and meaning behind all his ”just farted so loud it scared the neighbor's cat” kinda posts.

Eddie:

-Joined in 2011 -759752974576 sideblogs, 55425720752174838+1 sockpuppet accounts -When he's really low he'll post a poll like: ”Be honest, am I cute? Yes/No” and then has his 55425720752174838+1 sockpuppet accounts hit ”Yes” and somehow ”No” still wins. He deletes the whole post. -Posts the most obvious ”and everybody clapped” Tumblr fake stories you've seen. When he gets called out, he pretends you were supposed to figure out they were fake -Has an awful time on Tumblr, but can't delete, because he's addicted to getting notes -Always falls for every one of those post where OP pretends to be stupid on purpose (i.e. smooth sharks, putting fingers in guns etc.) -Posts riddles everyday that even his biggest haters cannot help but try and solve -Sends himself hatemail so he can post the witty comeback he just came up with. Forgot to hit anon once and people just won't let it go

Hugo:

-Banned for posting cock :/

[vaspider]

Every once in a while, one of the Piles Of Exaggerations And Lies "callout" posts about how one of Tumblr's Two Minutes Of Hate targeted users - yeah, me, but others as well, and in this case it was another one of the users that people feel free to post deeply disturbing murder fantasies about - bubbles across my dash like a wet fart, and after spending like 5 minutes to block a lot of people, bc who needs 'callout post' energy in their life, I'm kinda like...

... you know, if you look through the notes on this for literally like 30 seconds, you can see every moral panic that Tumblr has gone through in its existence. It's like taking a core sample from a tree. Whoever the post is talking about will somehow have been, Gump-like, at every Devil's Sacrament that Tumblr has ever named. Somehow whoever it is perfectly holds the exact Wrong Opinion on every single event that's ever happened.

And like, it goes beyond that. They have to assure themselves that all the people they hate are also secretly best friends, too. There are people that certain circles of Tumblr is certain I'm friends with that I've never spoken to, or may have spoken to once directly. But because we are all Hated, we're all Best Friends.

And you'd think that after a while, anyone with a speck of thoughtfulness would ask themselves, "Hey, do you think maybe this isn't, like, legit, and maybe people on this site have just decided they hate this person & are therefore projecting every moral panic that comes along and everything they don't like onto this person?"

But, like. Of course not, bc that would require admitting that they've been turning some random person into their weird little poppet that they can project everything onto and thus feel better about themselves. "I might be a total asshole who's participating in a weird internet brigade, and I may feel some kinda bad way about shit in my own life, but at least I'm not [person]!"

Anyway. I wish someone would make a script similar to the old MegaBlock on Twitter where you could put in a post URL and block everyone who interacted with it. Just one click. That would fucking rock.

[glasshcvse]

ficswap for @pickmedolls !

(D)OLLIES  is  the  first  mini-album  by  a  fictional  girl  group,  PICK  ME!,  known  for  blending  bold  rebellion  with  a  playful  charm.  the  album  was  considered  a  collaboration  with  GLASSHOUSE  INC.,  home  of  the  renowned  producer  GLOOMY,  who  took  the  lead  in  producing  it.  

the  album  reflects  its  core  themes  of  individuality  and  breaking  free  from  societal  expectations.  the  six  songs  feature  a  dynamic  mix  of  pop,  hip-hop,  and  dance,  capturing  a  spirit  of  confidence  and  empowerment.  the  group  released  their  debut  single,  ANGEL  OF  MY  DREAMS,  on  april  20th,  2022,  which  was  also  included  in  the  mini.  key  tracks  include  BADITTUDE,  a  powerful  pre-released  anthem  celebrating  self-assurance  and  defiance,  and  TALK  THAT  SHHH,  which  highlights  staying  true  to  oneself  and  embracing  authenticity.  

(D)OLLIES  received  mixed  reactions.  knetizens  thought  this  album  was  a  dig  at  them  for  judging  the  members  for  the  previous  rumours  and  callouts  they  made  about  the  girls.  at  the  same  time,  international  fans  praised  the  group  for  their  fresh  sound  and  empowering  message,  establishing  PICK  ME!  as  a  standout  figure  in  the  music  scene.

album inclusions. ( they might have )

photo booklet + folded poster ( 1ea ) + sticker sheet ( 1ea ) + lyric booklet with illustrations + miniature dollhouse set + postcard ( random member ver. ) + photocards ( random two out of five ).

track list. ( analysis cr. to /plasticflwrs )

ANGEL OF MY DREAMS ... described  as  a  'shape-shifting  banger',  the  song  explores  the  group's  love/hate  relationship  with  the  pop  industry  they've  been  at  the  heart  of  since  their  survival  show.  *there  has  been  lots  of  speculation  that  this  song  is  about  their  former  companies,  especially  with  the  line  "sold  my  soul  to  a  psycho"  could  be  directly  linked  to  that  rumour.

BADITTUDE ... is  all  about  owning  your  confidence  and  standing  up  for  yourself.  lines  like  "girls  with  that  bad  attitude"  highlight  the  power  of  embracing  your  true  self  and  rejecting  anyone  who  tries  to  bring  you  down.  it's  an  anthem  for  anyone  who's  ever  felt  misunderstood  or  pushed  aside,  encouraging  them  to  embrace  their  unique  edge  with  pride.

TALK THAT SHHH ... is  a  declaration  of  self-confidence  and  authenticity.  the  lyrics  focus  on  staying  true  to  who  you  are  despite  the  noise  and  expectations  from  the  outside  world.  the  chorus  evokes  a  sense  of  intimacy  and  self-assurance.  it’s  about  confidently  owning  your  individuality  and  living  life  on  your  own  terms,  celebrating  the  freedom  to  express  yourself  fully  and  unapologetically.

DIE FOR ME ... portrays  a  bold  and  confident  female  character  who  enjoys  having  control  over  her  partner  and  demands  their  submission  and  admiration.  the  song's  lyrics  suggest  a  sensual  and  intense  dynamic  between  two  individuals  but  with  a  hint  of  danger  and  risk.

SO WHAT ... is  all  about  shaking  off  the  weight  of  overthinking  and  self-criticism.  it’s  a  reminder  to  not  get  stuck  down  by  worries  and  to  take  life  a  little  easier.  the  chorus,  with  its  “so  what?”  attitude,  is  a  push  to  let  go  of  perfectionism  and  just  be  okay  with  things.  it’s  about  allowing  yourself  to  slow  down,  make  mistakes,  and  not  sweat  the  small  stuff.

FINDER ... is  the  desire  to  break  free  from  routine  and  monotony  and  to  explore  new  possibilities.  the  lyrics  reflect  that  despite  the  fear  of  the  unknown  or  the  dangers  of  pursuing  their  dreams,  the  group  strives  to  overcome  their  fears  and  take  action  to  obtain  a  better  life.  they  urge  others  to  take  their  hand  and  join  them  on  this  adventure.

poster.

[scoobydoodean]

honestly it's really hard for me to not get stressed by online discourse, and i was wondering if you had any advice? obviously i should log off if im getting stressed by discourse im not involved in but.

On dealing with discourse directed at you/people being mad at you:

A big thing for me is respecting the sanctity of the blog space. Make original posts as wanky as you'd like, and interact with like-minded bloggers, but don't interact with posts or blogs you don't like. This will not prevent random weirdos from showing up to be rude and obtuse on your posts, but it will make their lack of tumblr etiquette/respect for tumblr as a blog space apparent and it will give you the upper hand with moderating.

Remember that you don't have to talk to anyone you don't want to and no one is owed a personal response just because they chose to disagree with you. You can block whoever you like for any reason you'd like. If you don't want to interact with someone but want to address something they said, you don't have to reply directly to them if you don't want to. You can address the gist of what was said without giving them an audience. Sometimes people don't deserve whatever attention they were trying to get—especially if they've been rude or it's obvious they are approaching the subject in bad faith.

Remember that it's okay not to be liked by everybody. A lot of the time, you will find the people who make it clear they don't like you aren't people you respect or like either.

Most of all: Find the humor in putting all of this in perspective. We are all on a social media site most of the internet seems to think is dead, blogging about a CW show from 2005.... and we are getting mad at each other over it. That's wild, right??? And the people most willing to come to you to start drama are often the funniest people. I have had callout posts written about me over fart jokes. I was once called a "sane, anti-bully saint" and accused of "unfandom" behavior for laughing at samgirls getting Sam kicked out of a christ figure bracket poll they told people to kill themselves on. Someone took a 50 question uquiz I wrote multiple times seething with rage trying to get a zero on it on purpose because they thought it would make me angry for whatever reason. All of this is FUNNY.

On dealing with discourse that has nothing to do with you... logging off is great. But tbh I don't think it's wrong to vent 100% of the time.

It's okay to stand up for your friends and support them.

It's okay to write bitchy posts on your own blog.

It's okay to show a friend the thing you saw that raised your blood pressure and tear it apart together in DMs.

Also again: You can often find the humor in the discourse. Take a step back, find the joke in the whole situation and tell it. Laughter is great medicine imo.

Also, put the fandom in perspective. It's a big space, and sometimes the worst groups become the loudest, but they aren't the majority.

[charon-cries]

we're lucky Lestat de Lioncourt doesn't have tumblr, the drama he'd get into on here would be wild

#is this anything #he'd probably get cancelled instantly #also side note for future reference #i'm making this post before season 3 #so if anything in this is incompatible with amc canon #that's because i'm working off of seasons 1 + 2 and the books #okay ty have a nice day

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ANOTHER of my mutuals went missing after buying a backstage pass to a vampire lestat concert. she didn't post pictures, nothing, and she's been radio silent since her last post (which was about how she was about to go backstage...) and i really think we should be taking this more seriously. so.

reasons why i think "lestat de lioncourt" may be running a cult or something:

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🐺 the-vampire-lestat

Absolutely ridiculous. I am very open about what I am, you do not need to resort to senseless conspiracy theories to figure out where your little friend went.

🎧 audiofilled Follow

are you incapable of dropping the vampire bit for ONE moment? people are going MISSING and you're still doing your corny roleplay bit?

#discourse #TVL disappearances #callout

362 notes

📚 daniel-molloy

It's day number seventy-three of surviving this God forsaken website solely to keep tabs on Lestat's social media presence, and I'm still trying to decipher the lingo you people use here. What the Hell does, "I'm bald," even mean?

#the vampire lestat

137 notes

🪽 arun-rising

Did anyone else notice Lestat only posts during the night, in whichever timezone he's in while on tour? True commitment to the bit. Or the bite, I suppose.

🩸 carmillized

weren't you posting about how much you despise his music just yesterday???

🪽 arun-rising

I don't know what you're talking about. I never did that.

🩸 carmillized

You are correct. I believe you without question. I do not even know why I said that in the first place. I do not recall you posting about Lestat de Lioncourt before this.

#sorry OP i was out of line #now that i'm thinking about it though #this post is making me wonder if lestat could be a real vampire #i hadn't seriously considered it until this very moment #something came over me... #wonder why

40 notes

🐺 the-vampire-lestat

New song.

Listen, if you dare.

📷 disintegrated-wonder

Lestat, I thought we were over this...?

#louis talks

893 notes

🧷 baby-jenks

Wouldn't it be wild if we all just spontaneously combusted? Haha. Glad that will never happen

#fang gang #vampblr #random thought #it's unlikely

4 notes

👴🏻 marius-official Follow

How does this website work...?

🦇 fang-fan

delete your blog

#rank vibes on this man

1,425 notes

🐾 interview-wolf-the-werewolf Follow

Sponsored with Blaze 🔥

Check out my new book. It's a biography, about me, written by an award-winning journalist, chronicling my life as a werewolf. It's 100% factual and real, a real breath of fresh air in a world filled with fiction attempting to pass itself off as reality.

#iwtw #my posts #my book #me #werewolf #wolf #awoo #please i need to feed my litter of twelve #this book is all i have

5,762 notes

🩸 carmillized

hey all! i know that my mutual, audiofilled, is a little bit divisive in the music fandom rn, but i'm getting a little worried. i haven't heard from him since he made that post speculating about where TVL fans have been disappearing to. please send me an ask or a dm if you've heard from him!

#talk tag #getting a little worried #he's probably okay though

47 notes

🐺 the-vampire-lestat

Just had a lovely dinner. It's nice when your food is in tune with you, yes? Makes the blood sit well in the veins.

🦇 fang-fan

ur so funny

#edit: sorry for posting while audiofilled is missing #i didn't hear about it until just now

1,409 notes

🩸 carmillized

okay i just can't get over how he talks about himself. i don't know if it's just him being "in character" or if this is just how the guy acts irl, but he's so self-aggrandizing that i've been questioning it

no nuance/bald/other, you have to decide on the spot right now what you believe

📚 daniel-molloy

He's lying.

👩‍💻 talamascized-witch

I don't believe him for a second.

#archive #poll #lestat de lioncourt

[jillvalentine]

re: my relationship with my abuser, currently @/gwendaria (part one?)

[edit: new usernames + accounts since this post has been made: scarymovies, walkingdeads, samcarpenters, the-mummy]

My abusive ex has unfortunately been going full-on with the latest DARVO / smear campaign, and this time it seems to have reached a few people. These callouts are made-up, and they've been popping up continuously in different forms since early 2021 in an attempt to silence or smear me, regardless of their inconsistencies. One second I'm an emotionally abusive gaslighter who they've finally been freed from. The next, I'm someone they don't even know about. The next... I'm a renown stalker. The next... I'm a random girl who got romantically obsessed with them and turned into a terf when I got rejected. The neeeext... I'm a terf stalker racist? Okay! I don't even know anymore. There's definitely more.

I mostly want to focus on the facts. The facts are that I've shared about my experiences enough that I shouldn't have to entertain stupid shit anymore. There will always be the next narrative, more scandalous than the last. Going forward, I just want to make the evidence more accessible so that anyone can find it.

I still have all of our texts, discord logs, whatsapp logs, voicemails, facebook messages, hundreds of screenshots from me and from others (onlookers & other people who have been harmed), and I've become friends with people who have also been friends with or intimate with this person and came out from the other side (some are public and others aren't, because, hey! Look what happened to me after I came out. I have been stalked almost on the hourly for about 4 years now, and I know it won't stop, because I know exactly who my abuser is.)

About 3 years have passed now, so a lot of the 'big' conversations or screenshots I shared earlier on when I spoke out about what had happened to me have been buried in time. (but they are, still there.)

Screenshots where they ragged on and on about my friends, about me being naïve and that I'd know better when I was "a real adult" like them, telling me to drop dead, telling me about slitting their wrists, telling me that someone was messaging them about 'cumming on my face' after I posted (1) selfie. Blocking me everywhere for a bit over that selfie. Unblocking me. Yelling at me. Blocking and unblocking me again because I said something about how they were being awful to me. Rinse and repeat with the next insane shit.

This was during covid lockdown, and it was 24/7. I couldn't fucking breathe. I got questioned about going to the supermarket with my mom. I got mindfucked for not explicitly saying I was back home when I said I was getting the mail, under the guise of caring so much about me, of course.

One time, I sent a snap of these leggings I liked online. Because the photo sent as a file instead of a normal-full-screen-just-taken snap, it became a whole argument of "Did you share this with anyone else?" and I would be like... what would be wrong if I did? Why is it wrong for me to send a photo of some leggings I think look good to a friend to get her opinion? A lot of conflict happened this way. They were incredibly controlling and suffocating, all under the claims of past trauma, undiagnosed mental illness, and most of all - flowery apologies or proclamations.

I used to think I was able to push through anything that happened because they would apologize to me, and it made it okay again. I genuinely thought they just needed someone to give them a chance to heal and get better, or get back to how they used to be early on in the relationship. I wanted to be that someone, I wanted to be strong enough to take all of it and be okay at the end. It gradually got worse, and I found myself trapped in the relationship. Anytime I was close to getting away, I would get drawn back with push-and-pull manipulation tactics. If I had pulled away to recover from their mistreatment, I was then the one apologizing for having had to pull away, and how bad that pulling away had affected them. How awful I was and how much I regretted being affected by anything. I would blame anything else (it wasn't you, it was my own anxiety) to make things calm down.

I didn't see any of this coming from the start. It was a gradual process. Near the end, I was googling things about how to fix toxic relationships (it didn't work because the relationship wasn't a two-way street, it was abusive), trying to think for 5 different people to avoid outbursts, trying to explain away how someone might gaslight and manipulate others without it being fully conscious and intended. I found out it was 100% intentional when I got out. They were telling others that I was doing to them what they were doing to me, along with a bunch of other bullshit to pre-emptively plant seeds.

Gwen frequently tries to use the worst buzz words to create stories and alienate people from one another. She doesn't care about any social issues. What she likes or dislikes is entirely based on what she needs to get out of a situation. If someone she's fixating on positively likes xyz thing, she likes it too. If someone she's fixating on negatively likes or dislikes something, she'll do the opposite. She constantly invented stories and tried to frame people I'd known for years, or anyone who dared to interact with my posts anywhere. She literally impersonated people and had accounts hacked. All she does is obsess over people. She constantly monitored me and created conflict over anything, real or made up. She especially liked to create conflict when it was late, or when I was otherwise not-fully-there, like when I was drugged following a surgery. I was so out-of-it that at that point I didn't want to fight for myself or others anymore.

Near the end of the relationship, I had a private account that I would hide on because social media, and really anything social, had become a minefield. Multiple people had witnessed the change from before the relationship, the start of it, up to the end. I deactivated my main twitter for a period of time (although I was careful enough to reactivate it once every 30 days so it wouldn't be permanently lost) and had to ignore people, stop myself from posting or liking things, and plead with people not to mention anything about me because I would have to answer for it. Multiple people remember me asking them to delete certain posts, or just be careful not to give out that I was doing anything with them. I was abnormal and an immature adult for wanting to spend a bit of time with or buy a gift for my friend on their birthday. We had an age gap, and at first, it was all "you're probably more mature than me :)" - until it turned to Real Adults Don't Spend Time With Friends, lol. Real adults are 100% focused on their partner. Real adults aren't on social media, and other thinly-veiled degradation + mindfuckery. Funny how my age became a bad thing, but they were the experienced 29-year-old who knowingly pursued the inexperienced 23-year-old.

Near the end of the relationship, I was starting to hide away to spend more time with people who treated me well, and it helped me get out. I saw that the way I felt every day wasn't normal. It reminded me of what good relationships are like and what they feel like. My friends tried their best to be supportive, but it was very difficult because my partner was trying very hard to isolate me from them through threats, aggression and manipulation. I'm incredibly lucky that they stayed by my side and told me that what was happening wasn't normal.

Getting out was hard. Staying out was hard. Even after everything that happened, following the split, I told my friends I didn't know what I would do if they tried to get me back again. SO fucking glad that's over.