#so it's probably time to unfollow those tags

[foxtrology]

bette davis eyes (2)

harry castillo x reader

series

word count: 9.1k

warnings: no y/n, 28 year age gap, female reader, fluff, smut.

Harry Castillo still didn’t know her name.

And it was driving him insane.

It had been three days.

Three days since he sat on the steps of The Met, seething over Lucy’s engagement only to stumble into a conversation with the most aggravating woman he had ever met.

Three days since she stepped out of his car.

"If you find me again, maybe I’ll say yes."

He had taken it as a challenge.

Of course he did.

He had spent years making impossible things happen. He had turned himself into one of the richest hedge fund managers in the country. He dictated the movement of money on Wall Street with a flick of his wrist. People waited months to get a meeting with him.

When he wanted something, he got it.

But he still didn’t know her goddamn name.

He had spent hours.

Hours, going through his friends’ Instagram followings, convinced that she had to be in there somewhere. She had been outside that party on those steps. That meant she knew someone.

Right?

Wrong.

Instead, all he got was accidentally following half a dozen people he didn’t even like and no clue how to unfollow them.

"You could just Google it," Danny had suggested, watching as Harry scrolled through Instagram with the confusion of a man trying to defuse a bomb.

"I shouldn’t have to Google basic fucking technology," Harry snapped.

Danny had just laughed. "This is why Lucy did everything for you."

Lucy.

Right.

Harry shut his phone off and tossed it onto the table like it had personally offended him.

He needed to let this go.

She was just a stranger.

A nobody.

But...

She wasn’t.

She was somebody, at least to him. Someone who had looked at him like he wasn’t some billionaire hedge fund manager but just a man sitting on the steps of The Met, sulking about his ex.

And that was risky.

Because for the first time in a long time he wanted to know more.

She was balancing a tray when she spotted him.

Harry Castillo.

Sitting at the corner of the high end Manhattan restaurant she was currently serving at, looking like he would rather die than be here.

Her grip on the tray tightened. No fucking way.

She had spent the last three days assuming she would never see him again.

Rich men didn’t go looking for strangers they met outside of parties. Not unless they had some weird obsession or a savior complex. And he didn’t seem like the type.

Yet, here he was.

Dark suit. Sharp jaw. Brooding like the miserable, wealthy asshole she suspected he was.

And worst of all—he didn’t see her.

Not yet.

She had to get out of here before he did.

Her name tag was visible.

If he saw it, if he recognized her—

"Table six, go," her manager barked, pointing toward the very table Harry was sitting at.

Fuck.

She briefly considered quitting her job on the spot. Just throwing her apron at the nearest wall and storming out.

But unfortunately, she had rent to pay.

So with a deep inhale, she straightened her shoulders, gripped the tray tighter, and walked straight toward him.

Harry wasn’t paying attention.

Not to the menu. Not to his surroundings.

His mind was still back in his office, replaying every attempt he had made to find her.

And failing.

His phone buzzed. Another news notification. Probably some article about the market or a New York Times op-ed about billionaires ruining the economy. He didn’t care.

Then—

A shadow passed over him.

Someone setting a drink down.

And before he even looked up—before his brain even processed it—he heard her voice.

“Whiskey neat.”

His head snapped up so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash.

And there she was.

Standing right in front of him.

His breath hitched.

Her.

Her.

His eyes flicked to her name tag, sharp and laser focused.

Finally.

She saw where he was looking and immediately reached for it, ripping the tag off with a sharp tug before shoving it into her pocket.

“Not a chance,” she said, shaking her head.

His lips twitched.

“Afraid?”

“Of you?” She snorted, shifting the tray in her hands. “Not even a little.”

He exhaled, leaning back in his chair.

“You work here.”

She raised a brow. “Clearly.”

“You were at the Met party.”

“I was working the Met party.”

Realization dawned.

She wasn’t a guest. She wasn’t friends with anyone there.

She was a server.

A server.

Harry’s fingers tapped against the edge of his glass.

He didn’t know why that made something settle inside him. Maybe because it explained why she hadn’t given a shit about who he was. Maybe because it meant she wasn’t part of his world, wasn’t another socialite or heiress looking for an investment banker to marry.

Maybe because it meant that night was real.

“You’ve been looking for me.”

It wasn’t a question.

His eyes lifted to hers.

She was smirking.

She was amused.

And he hated how much he liked that.

Harry exhaled slowly. “Maybe.”

“Well. Now you found me.”

He studied her.

The restaurant bustled around them. The clink of glasses, the low hum of conversation, the scent of expensive wine and seared steak filling the air.

But none of it mattered.

Not when she was standing in front of him, arms crossed, head tilted, watching him like he was the one on display.

He reached for his drink, swirling the liquid before taking a slow sip.

Then—

“Have dinner with me.”

She blinked.

Paused.

Then laughed.

Again.

Like he had just told the funniest joke in the world.

Again.

“You really don’t like being told no, huh?”

His jaw ticked. “That’s not an answer.”

She tilted her head. “What do you think I’m gonna do? Take off my apron and sit down at your table? I’m working, Castillo.”

The way she said his name made something tighten in his chest.

Harry leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Then when do you get off?”

Her lips twitched.

“You gonna wait here all night?”

He didn’t hesitate.

“Yes.”

She exhaled, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

“So I’ve been told.”

A pause.

“Fine.”

Harry’s brows lifted.

Her eyes flicked to the clock on the restaurant wall before settling back on him.

“I’m off in an hour.” She turned, already walking away. “Let’s see if you’re still here by then.”

He watched her go.

Watched as she weaved through tables, balancing drinks, chatting with customers, completely at ease.

And for the first time in three days—

He felt at ease.

Because this time, she wasn’t getting away.

Harry wasn’t a patient man.

He had built an empire on control, on precision, on the ability to anticipate movements before they happened. That was how he stayed ahead, how he won.

Yet here he was, sitting at a table in an upscale Manhattan restaurant waiting for a woman who barely spared him a second glance.

A woman whose name he still didn’t know.

He leaned back in his chair, swirling the whiskey in his glass, watching as she moved effortlessly through the restaurant.

She was good at her job.

Efficient, quick on her feet, balancing trays with ease.

And she smiled at customers.

Not the way she had smirked at him earlier. Not with that sharp edged amusement that made something itch beneath his skin.

No, these smiles were polite. Professional. A little forced, maybe, but nothing that suggested she was even remotely bothered by his presence.

It annoyed the hell out of him.

Because he was bothered.

She had been stuck in his head for three days.

And here she was, acting like their encounter meant nothing.

Like he meant nothing.

It was infuriating.

And intriguing.

And maybe—just maybe—exactly what he needed.

His fingers tapped against the rim of his glass.

An hour.

He could wait an hour.

Hell, he had waited longer for board meetings that didn’t even matter.

So he settled in.

And watched.

She could feel his eyes on her.

The weight of his gaze followed her everywhere.

She ignored it.

Or at least, she pretended to.

Because if she acknowledged it, if she met his gaze, if she let herself wonder why he was still sitting there—then she would have to admit that she cared.

And she didn’t.

Not really.

Not about Harry Castillo.

Not about his perfectly tailored suit or the way his dark eyes followed her every movement like she was some kind of puzzle he was determined to solve.

Not about the way her heart had kicked up just a little when she realized he had actually been looking for her.

Nope.

Didn’t care.

Not at all.

She refilled a wine glass at table twelve, smiled at a group of finance bros who didn’t deserve it, dodged her coworker carrying a tray of desserts, and did not look at the man still sitting at table six.

But she could feel him.

And it was driving her crazy.

Harry was losing his mind.

Every time she passed his table without sparing him a glance, something inside him tightened.

This was ridiculous.

He didn’t wait for people.

People waited for him.

He could leave right now. Get up, walk out, and be done with this whole thing.

But he wouldn’t.

Because she had said one hour.

And he was going to make sure she kept her word.

His phone buzzed.

He ignored it.

Buzzed again.

Danny.

Danny: Why are you ignoring my texts?

Danny: Did you figure out how to unfollow people yet or are you still stuck?

Danny: Are you seriously still looking for that girl?

Danny: …You are, aren’t you?

Danny: I hate you.

Danny: Text me when you’re done being pathetic.

Harry rolled his eyes and slid his phone facedown on the table.

The hour crawled by.

And then—

Finally—

She walked back toward his table.

Apron off. Jacket on. Bag slung over one shoulder.

Her shift was over.

And Harry sat up a little straighter.

“You actually waited.”

She didn’t sound surprised.

More amused.

Like she had expected him to wait but still found it funny.

He lifted a brow. “You said an hour.”

“And you’re a man who listens?”

“I can be.”

She huffed out a small laugh, shaking her head. “Dangerous skill.”

Harry smirked. “You have no idea.”

She rolled her eyes, but he caught the way her lips twitched.

It wasn’t a no.

Wasn’t a go home, Castillo.

It was something else.

Something better.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “So?”

“So.”

“What now?”

Harry exhaled, watching her carefully.

She was testing him.

Waiting to see if he was serious.

If he was worth the trouble.

And Harry Castillo never backed down from a challenge.

“Dinner,” he said simply.

She arched a brow. “You just ate.”

“You were working. I don’t eat alone.”

She crossed her arms. “That’s a dumb rule.”

He shrugged. “It’s my rule.”

She stared at him for a long moment.

Then—

“Fine.”

A single word.

But it sent something sharp and victorious rushing through his chest.

He stood, pulling a few crisp hundreds from his wallet and tossing them onto the table without a second glance.

She eyed the money but didn’t say anything.

Just turned on her heel and walked toward the door.

Harry followed.

The wind cut sharp against his skin as they stepped out onto the Manhattan sidewalk, the world around them alive with the hum of the city at night. A taxi honked a block away, a couple laughed as they passed, and the crisp scent of winter curled into the air.

She shivered, pulling her coat tighter around her body.

Harry didn’t shiver.

He barely felt the cold.

His eyes flicked toward her, noting the way she huddled into herself slightly, as if suddenly self conscious. She had been confident inside the restaurant sharp, unbothered, teasing—but now, beneath the glow of the streetlights, something in her had shifted.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She scoffed. “You think I’m just gonna tell you that?”

His jaw twitched.

She was impossible.

And yet, somehow, he found himself waiting for her answer anyway.

She sighed, exhaling into the cold air. “It’s just…I just got off a shift. I’m not exactly dressed for whatever expensive place you’re about to drag me to.”

Harry blinked.

Then looked her over.

Dark jeans. A fitted black sweater. Scuffed up ballet flats.

She looked fine.

Better than fine.

She looked real.

She looked like her.

And that, he realized, was the problem.

She didn’t belong in his world.

Didn’t fit into the mold of women he was usually seen with.

She wasn’t draped in designer. She didn’t have a last name people recognized. She didn’t float through life with the quiet, effortless privilege of someone born into money.

But she was still the most interesting person he had met in years.

And that was dangerous.

He shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “I don’t care.”

She blinked up at him.

“What?”

“I don’t care what you’re wearing.”

She hesitated.

Her eyes searched his, looking for—what? Lies? Pity? Some hidden agenda?

She wouldn’t find any of those.

He had none to give.

Instead, he tilted his head. “Are you hungry or not?”

She rolled her eyes. “I just worked a ten hour shift. What do you think?”

His lips twitched.

Without another word, he turned and started walking.

And after a beat—she followed.

To her surprise, Harry didn’t take her somewhere suffocatingly high end.

No pretentious Michelin starred establishment. No reservations only steakhouse with white tablecloths and chandeliers worth more than her apartment.

God, her roommate was in for a treat when she gets home.

Instead, they ended up at a cozy, tucked away bistro on a quiet side street. The kind of place that didn’t have a dress code. The kind of place where people actually talked instead of posing for Instagram photos.

She narrowed her eyes as she followed him inside. “How do you even know about a place like this?”

Harry didn’t answer.

Of course he didn’t.

Instead, he pulled out a chair for her like some old fashioned gentleman and waited for her to sit.

She hesitated, lips twitching in amusement. “Wow. Chivalry isn’t dead after all.”

He ignored that too.

She sat.

He took the seat across from her.

A waiter appeared almost instantly.

Harry ordered whiskey.

She ordered a glass of wine.

She knew her wine, he'll give her that.

And then—for the first time since they met—there was silence.

Not uncomfortable silence.

But silence nonetheless.

She leaned back in her chair, watching him.

Harry was hard to read.

Brooding. Intense. Reserved.

The kind of man who looked like he had a thousand thoughts running through his head but no intention of saying any of them out loud.

The kind of man who could crush someone with a single, well calculated decision in his office during the day and then sit across from her in a dimly lit restaurant at night like none of it mattered.

She tapped her fingers against the table. “So, are you gonna ask me anything? Or are we just gonna sit here and stare at each other?”

Harry’s brow lifted slightly.

“I don’t ask questions I don’t care about the answers to.”

She blinked.

Then huffed out a small laugh. “Jesus. You’re insufferable.”

“So I’ve been told.”

She rolled her eyes and took a sip of wine.

He watched her over the rim of his own glass, studying the way she moved.

She wasn’t nervous.

She wasn’t trying to impress him.

And he hated how much he liked that.

She started talking first.

Not because he asked.

But because she wanted to.

“So, what do you think I do?” she asked, resting her chin on her hand.

Harry took a slow sip of whiskey. “You’re a server.”

She smirked. “Wow. Good job, detective.”

His jaw twitched. “That’s not a real question.”

“Fine. How long have I been doing it?”

He studied her.

Noticed the way she held herself, the way she had moved through the restaurant earlier, the way she hadn’t hesitated when her manager snapped at her.

“Years,” he said simply.

Her smirk faltered.

“Yeah,” she admitted. “Since I was nineteen.”

Something flickered in her eyes.

Something he didn’t understand.

Didn’t push.

But still—he noticed.

She exhaled, rolling her wine glass between her fingers. “It wasn’t supposed to be permanent.”

Harry’s fingers drummed against the table. “It never is.”

She lifted a brow. “You say that like you know.”

He didn’t answer.

Because he did know.

But he didn’t talk about it.

Didn’t talk about the nights he spent as a kid listening to his mother cry in the next room because she didn’t have the money for rent.

Didn’t talk about how she had worked three jobs just to keep food on the table.

Didn’t talk about how she got sick.

How the bills stacked up.

How money would have saved her.

But he didn’t say any of that.

He never did.

She watched him for a moment, like she was trying to figure him out.

Then she leaned back in her chair, lips curling slightly. “You don’t talk much, huh?”

Harry exhaled. “Not if I can help it.”

She grinned. “Well, lucky for you, I talk enough for the both of us.”

And she did.

She told him about the worst customers she’d ever had. The ridiculous things people asked for at restaurants. The way rich men treated servers like they were invisible.

She didn’t include him in that category.

And for some reason, that mattered.

She laughed at her own stories.

Harry didn’t laugh.

But he listened.

More than he should have.

More than he ever did.

She didn’t push him to share.

Didn’t ask him about his life, his money, his past.

She just talked.

And it was the first time in a long time that Harry didn’t mind someone filling the silence.

When their food came, she didn’t pick at it like the women he usually dined with.

She ate.

Finished her entire burger.

Made a satisfied noise as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.

Harry’s lips twitched. He wanted to smile. But he didn't.

By the time they left the restaurant, it was late.

The air was even colder now, the city quieter.

She shoved her hands into her pockets. “Alright, big shot. Where’s your driver?”

Harry exhaled, glancing down the street.

James was waiting, parked at the curb.

But for some reason—

For some stupid reason—

He didn’t want the night to end yet.

So instead of answering, he met her gaze.

And said, “Let’s walk.”

She blinked.

Then nodded.

“Okay.”

And just like that—

Harry Castillo found himself walking through the city with a woman he barely knew.

And, for once, he didn’t hate it.

The streets of Manhattan were quieter at this hour.

The usual chaos—the honking taxis, the chatter of impatient pedestrians, the ever present hum of a city that never slept had settled into something softer. The streetlights cast golden pools of light on the pavement and every now and then, a stray gust of wind sent a flurry of dry leaves skittering across the sidewalk.

She walked beside him, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket, her unhurried.

Harry had no idea where they were going.

She was talking again, the words flowing effortlessly, her voice filling the quiet space between them like it belonged there.

“I don’t know how people live alone in this city,” she mused, her breath visible in the cold air. “I mean, sure if you’re a billionaire hedge fund guy, then yeah, easy. But for the rest of us mortals? Forget it.”

Harry glanced at her. “So you have a roommate.”

She huffed out a small laugh. “More like a personal angel disguised as a roommate.”

His brow lifted slightly.

She kicked a small pebble across the pavement as they walked. “Her name’s Maya and she’s the only reason I can even afford to be in New York. She’s an artist—one of those ridiculously talented people who’s always sketching on napkins or leaving paint stains on everything.”

Harry hummed, tucking his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. “And she sells her work?”

“Oh, yeah. To people like you,” she teased, smirking up at him.

His jaw flexed slightly. “Like me?”

She shrugged. “Rich. Intimidating. Definitely the type to spend five grand on a painting because some gallery curator convinced you it was ‘evocative of the human condition.’”

Harry let out a sharp exhale, something just short of a laugh. “I don’t buy art.”

She gave him a pointed look. “So you just have blank walls in your penthouse?”

He hesitated.

She gasped, dramatic. “Oh my God, you do!”

His jaw twitched. “I don’t see the point.”

She groaned, shaking her head. “That is actually the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard.”

Harry smirked slightly. “Maya sounds lucky to have you as her publicist.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not her publicist. Just her number one fan. And her unpaid assistant, apparently, because every time she has a gallery showing, I end up playing bartender.”

“You work events for her?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Yeah, I mean... I don’t want to be useless.”

Harry frowned slightly at that. “You’re not useless.”

She blinked up at him, something flickering behind her expression like maybe she wasn’t used to hearing that.

She recovered quickly, exhaling through her nose. “Try telling that to the people who snap their fingers at me when they want a refill.”

Harry’s jaw tightened.

There was something about that, about the idea of her being treated like she was nothing, about people looking past her like she didn’t matter.

That irritated him more than it should have.

But he didn’t say anything.

Instead, he glanced over at her, taking her in.

Her hair was slightly tousled from the wind, strands curling around her face. The dim glow of the streetlights softened her features, casting a warm hue against her skin. She looked…

Gorgeous.

Pretty.

She caught him staring and arched a brow. “What?”

Harry looked straight ahead. “Nothing.”

She huffed a small laugh, bumping her shoulder lightly against his. “You’re weird.”

“Good to know.”

She grinned but didn’t push it.

They kept walking.

They hadn’t planned on stopping anywhere, but when she spotted a small, hole in the wall coffee shop still open, she made a beeline for it.

Harry watched as she pressed her hands against the glass, peering inside like a kid outside a toy store.

She turned back to him, eyes bright. “I need something warm.”

Harry exhaled. “You could’ve just said that.”

She grinned. “Where’s the fun in that?”

He sighed but followed her inside anyway.

The shop was small, filled with the comforting scent of coffee and fresh pastries. A tired looking barista was wiping down the counter, clearly ready to close up for the night but she bounced up to the register without hesitation.

“One hot chocolate, please.”

Harry stared. “Hot chocolate?”

She flashed him a look. “What?”

“You’re a grown woman.”

“Wow, ageism?” she gasped. “How very hedge fund of you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Hot chocolate is for children.”

She smirked. “And yet, I bet I’m gonna enjoy my drink way more than whatever depressing black coffee you’re about to order.”

Harry clenched his jaw.

Then turned to the barista.

“…Make it two.”

She lit up.

Not a smirk, not a teasing quip...just a genuine, unfiltered grin. “See? You’re not completely soulless after all.”

Harry huffed but said nothing.

They sat by the window, watching the street outside as their drinks cooled.

She took the first sip and sighed dramatically. “Oh my God."

Harry lifted a brow but took a sip of his own.

It was…warm. Smooth. A little too sweet.

Not terrible.

She grinned at him over the rim of her cup. “You love it.”

He set his cup down. “I tolerate it.”

She snorted. “Liar.”

Harry exhaled, shaking his head.

He was lying.

But he wasn’t about to admit that to her.

By the time they finally made it to her place, it was late.

The entrance to her building was old but well kept, tucked into a quieter side street. The kind of place that probably had thin walls and a temperamental landlord.

She stopped at the door, turning to face him.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then—

“You gonna be weird about this?” she asked, crossing her arms.

Harry tilted his head slightly. “Weird about what?”

She smirked. “You look like the kind of guy who doesn’t walk a woman home unless he’s expecting to come up.”

His jaw clenched. “I wasn’t—”

She grinned, cutting him off. “Relax. I’m messing with you.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “Hilarious.”

She stepped back, pressing her shoulder against the doorframe. “But hey…thanks. For dinner. And the hot chocolate.”

Harry held her gaze.

She was looking at him like she wasn’t sure what to make of him yet.

Like she hadn’t quite figured him out.

And that, somehow, made him want to see her again.

Before he could say anything, she yawned, stretching her arms above her head.

“You gonna try to find me again?”

His jaw tightened.

But his lips twitched.

“I already did once.”

She hummed, tilting her head. “Then maybe next time, I’ll let you find out something about me.”

Harry exhaled.

He should have left.

Should have walked away.

But instead, he lingered just long enough to watch her disappear into the building, just long enough to hear her footsteps fade.

And then, finally—

He turned.

And walked away.

He still didn't get her name.

But he knew where to find her.

Harry had gone back to the restaurant.

But she wasn’t there.

Two days.

Two entire days of walking into that overpriced Manhattan restaurant, sitting at the same damn table, ordering the same damn whiskey neat, only for some random server—not her—to take his order.

It was infuriating.

He didn’t know her name.

Didn’t have her number.

Didn’t know anything except where she lived.

And that made something settle in his chest that he wasn’t ready to examine.

Danny noticed.

Of course he did.

“You’re sulking,” he said, lazily swirling his cocktail at their usual bar.

Harry scowled. “I don’t sulk.”

Danny smirked. “Right. You just glare at your drink like it owes you money.”

Harry clenched his jaw.

Then exhaled sharply. “She’s not at work.”

Danny blinked. Then grinned. “Oh my God, you are sulking.”

Harry resisted the urge to throw his whiskey at him.

Instead, he pulled out his phone and stared at her building’s address for the fiftieth time.

Danny sighed, tilting his head. “You know, if you really wanted to, you could—”

“I’m not hiring a private investigator,” Harry muttered.

Danny huffed. “I was gonna say Google it. Jesus, man.”

Harry scowled.

But he did Google it.

Or rather, he, Danny, and James—his driver, the only person in his life with more patience than a saint—spent two hours tracking down any lead they could.

It was a long, painful process.

But finally—Maya.

Maya Klein.

Her roommate.

Her best friend.

Her very online best friend.

It wasn’t hard to find her art portfolio.

Okay, maybe it was a little hard.

But after squinting through three different Instagram accounts, a Tumblr page, and a very outdated LinkedIn profile, they found it.

And in bold, clean font on her website—

GALLERY SHOWING TOMORROW.

TRIBECA

8PM-11PM

Harry leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming against his desk.

“She bartends for her friend’s events,” he murmured.

Danny’s brows lifted. “And you’re planning on showing up.”

Harry exhaled. “I want to see her again.”

Danny smirked. “Wow. You’re down bad.”

Harry ignored him.

He stuck out like a sore thumb the moment he stepped inside.

Danny, of course, fit right in. Already drifting off into the crowd, chatting up a woman in a fringed leather jacket holding a glass of something overpriced.

James had stayed outside, leaning against the Maybach with a cigarette between his fingers, avoiding any part of this ridiculous endeavor.

And Harry?

Harry stood in the middle of an art gallery, surrounded by people who clearly hated him.

The walls were filled with abstract pieces. Raw depictions of capitalism and greed, of money and power and the corruption that came with it.

A statement.

A big fuck you to billionaires.

A big fuck you to him.

And here he was—one of the richest men in the country—standing in the middle of it.

He definitely stuck out.

Eyes flickered toward him.

Some curious. Some amused.

But most?

Judgmental.

Harry sighed.

Danny was gonna love this.

He scanned the room.

And then—

He saw her.

Behind the bar.

Her hair pulled back in a clip, sleeves rolled up, effortlessly balancing bottles and glasses, moving like she had done this a million times.

His jaw unclenched.

Something settled inside him.

Something he didn’t have the time—or patience—to name.

He walked over.

She didn’t see him at first.

Not until he was standing right in front of her.

Then—

Her eyes lifted.

And froze.

Her fingers stilled over the cocktail shaker, her lips parting slightly in surprise.

Then, slow and deliberate...

She smirked.

“You again.”

Harry exhaled. “Me again.”

She hummed, setting the shaker down. “Didn’t peg you for an art guy.”

“I’m not.”

Her smirk widened. “So you’re here for the free drinks?”

He tilted his head. “No.”

Her lips pressed together, amusement flickering in her gaze. “Then why are you here?”

Harry held her gaze.

And then—

She sighed, shaking her head.

“You really don’t like answering questions, do you?”

He exhaled. “You weren’t at work.”

Her brows lifted slightly.

Harry leaned forward, resting his hands against the bar. “I noticed.”

Her expression softened just for a second.

Then she sighed, rolling her eyes. “My legs gave out.”

His jaw tensed. “What?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “It happens. I overworked myself too much. I needed a break.”

His fingers curled against the bar.

Harry didn’t like that.

Didn’t like the idea of her pushing herself until she physically collapsed.

Didn’t like the fact that she was still working tonight.

Didn’t like any of it.

She noticed.

“You’re brooding.”

“I don’t brood.”

She arched a brow. “You definitely brood.”

Harry exhaled sharply.

She smirked.

Then casually, she grabbed a napkin, scribbled something on it, and slid it across the bar.

He frowned. “What’s this?”

She smiled.

“My name.”

His fingers brushed the paper.

His jaw flexed.

Finally.

Finally.

Then—

Across the room, a conversation caught his ear.

Loud. Purposeful. Like it was meant for him to hear.

It definitely was meant for him to hear.

“I don’t understand how these people live with themselves.”

Harry’s fingers stilled.

He turned slightly, gaze narrowing at a group gathered near one of the paintings.

“They show up, throw their money around, act like they’re saving the industry when they’re the ones who ruined it in the first place.”

Another voice chimed in. “It’s capitalism at its finest.”

Harry exhaled through his nose.

Same conversation. Different setting.

Nothing he hadn’t heard before.

He should have ignored it.

But then—

Then, he heard her.

Her voice.

Sharp. Defiant.

“You do realize the only reason these paintings are selling at all is because of the people you hate, right?”

Silence.

Harry blinked.

His gaze snapped back to her.

She wasn’t looking at him.

She was facing them, eyes narrowed, jaw set.

The guy—some twenty-something in a turtleneck—sputtered. “That’s not the—”

“No, go ahead,” she said, tilting her head. “Explain to me how you think art survives without the rich. Who do you think is buying these paintings? Who do you think is keeping galleries open? I’ll wait.”

The group shifted uncomfortably.

Harry smirked.

The guy scoffed. “That’s not the point.”

She arched a brow. “Then what is the point?”

More silence.

She exhaled. “Look, I get it. The system’s fucked. But if you really hate capitalism so much then maybe don’t take a paycheck from a company that thrives on it.”

The guy’s face turned red.

Then, huffing, he spun on his heel and walked away.

Harry exhaled through his nose.

And when she turned back to him—

He was looking at her.

Really looking at her.

She raised a brow. “What?”

Harry’s jaw ticked.

Then, slow—steady—

He reached for the napkin with her name.

Folded it.

Slipped it into his pocket.

“Nothing,” he murmured.

And, for the first time in months—

Harry Castillo smiled.

Actually let out a smile.

It was a rare thing. Unpracticed. A little uneven.

And it caught her off guard so much she forgot to breathe for a second.

That smile.

The real kind, not the smirk, not the polite billionaire press photo kind. It was all quiet softness and amusement, like a secret between the two of them. It was the kind of smile you could fall into if you weren’t careful.

“Wow,” she murmured, recovering. “You do know how to do that.”

Harry’s smile didn’t falter, but he said nothing.

Typical.

The gallery began to thin out as the night wore on. Coats were retrieved from racks, the sound of shoes echoed across the polished concrete floor, and people began floating toward the exit in clumps, cheeks flushed from wine and conversations.

Harry stayed.

He didn’t know why he stayed.

He could’ve left after thirty minutes like most of the other well dressed nuts in the room. But something about the way she moved behind the bar—tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, laughing quietly when Maya came over to whisper something in her ear—held him in place.

She kept sneaking glances at him too.

Never long. Never obvious.

But enough.

He stayed perched in a corner, away from the art critics and the performative intellectuals with their wine sick grins and disdain for everything they secretly wanted. He watched her wipe down glasses and stack them methodically, her body moving slower than usual now, more deliberate. Her energy was dwindling down.

She was tired.

Exhausted, actually.

He could see it in the way her shoulders sagged when she thought no one was watching.

Around midnight, the final few stragglers filtered out. Maya was surrounded by compliments, champagne, and laughter as she waved people goodbye. She was magnetic.

But Harry’s focus was only on one person.

Her.

She was drying a wine glass with a rag that had seen better days when he approached the bar again.

“You’re still here?” she asked without looking up.

“I tend to see things through.”

She scoffed. “That doesn’t sound exhausting at all.”

Harry didn’t respond. Instead, he reached into his coat and placed something on the bar. A lemon ginger lozenge.

She stared at it. “What is this?”

“You’ve been clearing your throat for the last hour. Thought you might be getting sick.”

She blinked.

And then quietly, “Thanks.”

He nodded once. “You ready to go?”

She furrowed her brows. “Go?”

“You were going to walk home, weren’t you?”

“I—” She hesitated. “Yeah. I was.”

“Not happening.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Harry—”

“Maya said she’s having people over.”

Her mouth opened. “She what?”

As if on cue, Maya bounced over, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling. “There you are! Just wanted to let you know we’re having a tiny get together back at the apartment. You’re coming, right?”

She forced a smile. “Yeah…totally.”

Maya beamed. “Perfect! I’ll see you there!” And just like that, she twirled away in her silk pants and heeled boots like a whirlwind of chaos and charm.

Harry looked at her, quiet.

“You don’t want to go,” he said plainly.

She paused. “No, I mean—I don’t mind—”

“You need rest.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re exhausted.”

She made a face. “Thanks.”

“It wasn’t an insult.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t sound like a compliment.”

“It was. You’ve been on your feet all night and still managed to argue with an entire table of art anarchists without flinching.”

She blinked. “You were listening?”

Harry shrugged. “I’m observant.”

Something warm crept up her neck. “That’s actually…kind of sweet.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.”

“Still is.”

He exhaled, glancing toward the door. “Let me take you somewhere quiet.”

She looked at him carefully. "Okay." She nodded.

Harry smiled. “Come on.”

As they walked toward the exit, a low whistle echoed across the room.

“Ooooh, look who’s leaving together,” Danny called out, arm slung lazily around a girl wearing metallic eyeshadow and an alarming amount of lip gloss.

Harry cringed visibly. “Ignore him.”

“Oh, I planned on it,” she muttered, quickening her step.

Outside, James was leaning against the Maybach, his cigarette burning low between his fingers.

He straightened when he saw them. “Evening,” he said coolly, holding the door open without a single question.

Once inside the car, she leaned her head against the window, legs tucked beneath her. The car purred beneath them as it slid through the streets like a shadow.

“You always have a driver?” she asked after a moment.

“Yes.”

“Even when you’re just, like…getting groceries?”

Harry looked at her. “Do I look like I get groceries?”

She snorted. “Fair.”

He glanced at her again. “Do you want me to take you home?”

She paused. Her apartment would be loud. Crowded. Too many people, too much laughter, and she was tired.

Bone tired.

“I…wouldn’t mind going somewhere quiet,” she said softly.

Harry didn’t reply. Just gave James a nod. And James didn’t need to be told twice.

The car ride was quiet, but not uncomfortable. The city lights flickered through the windows as they sped through Manhattan, the hum of the engine steady beneath them.

She was curled up in the passenger seat, head resting against the cool glass, eyes flickering between exhaustion and quiet thought.

Harry didn’t say anything. Didn’t push.

He liked the silence with her.

When they finally pulled up to his building, James barely looked surprised. He simply put the car in park, gave Harry a knowing look and muttered, “Have a good night, sir.”

Harry ignored him.

She hesitated when the elevator doors opened, glancing up at him.

“You sure about this?” she murmured.

Harry met her gaze. “You need rest.”

She exhaled. “You’re really committed to this whole taking care of me thing, huh?”

Harry didn’t answer. Just stepped into the elevator.

After a beat—she followed.

The penthouse was quiet when they entered.

It was huge.

Dimly lit, the skyline of Manhattan stretching out before them through the floor to ceiling windows. She looked around, taking in the sleek design, the impossibly neat kitchen, the pristine furniture.

Then—

“You really don’t have anything on the walls.”

Harry exhaled. “We’ve been over this.”

She smirked. “Still depressing.”

Harry ignored her, shrugging off his coat before turning to her.

“Go take a bath.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

Harry huffed. “You need to relax.”

She scoffed. “I’m fine.”

He raised a brow. “You’ve been on your feet for how many hours straight. Worked so long your legs gave out.”

She rolled her eyes. “I said I’m fine.”

Harry’s jaw clenched.

Then, slowly, pointedly, he turned and started walking toward the bathroom.

“What are you—”

“Follow me.”

Against her better judgment—she did.

The bathroom was nothing short of luxurious.

A massive tub sat beneath a soft glowing light, marble countertops lining the space. The air smelled faintly of something expensive, probably whatever soap billionaires used.

Harry turned on the water, letting the tub fill, steam curling into the air.

She leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. “You really think I’m about to take a bath?”

Harry gave her a look. “Yes.”

She scoffed. “Why?”

“Because you deserve to rest.”

Something flickered in her expression.

Soft. Unreadable.

Harry stepped back, nodding toward the tub. “Take your time.”

She hesitated.

Then—finally—sighed. “Fine.”

Harry nodded once before leaving the room.

She stood there for a moment, staring at the tub, at the ridiculous luxury of it all.

Then—she caught sight of the robe hanging by the sink.

A man’s robe.

His.

She swallowed.

Slowly, she peeled off her clothes, stepping into the warm water letting the heat soak into her muscles, melting the exhaustion from her bones.

She leaned back, closing her eyes.

And then—

She caught the scent of something in the air.

His shampoo.

His body wash.

Without thinking, she reached for the bottle, pouring a small amount into her palm before lathering it into her hair.

She didn’t know why she did it.

Didn’t know why the idea of smelling like him made something tighten in her chest.

But she didn’t stop.

Not until the scent of Harry Castillo was wrapped around her.

The warmth from the bath had seeped into her bones, leaving her skin flushed, her limbs loose.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt good.

Not just better—good.

Rested.

Weightless.

And wrapped in the scent of him.

She exhaled slowly, fingers dragging through her damp hair as she stepped out of the tub. Water dripped from her skin, soaking into the thick, plush bath mat beneath her feet.

She reached for the robe hanging by the door.

His robe.

It was heavy, rich, expensive fabric, meant for a man built like Harry.

She pulled it on anyway, wrapping herself in it, feeling swallowed whole by the warmth of something that belonged to him.

Something about that made her stomach twist.

Not in a bad way.

Not in a way she could name.

She let her fingers toy with the fabric as she padded quietly out of the bathroom, stepping into the dim glow of his penthouse.

Harry was waiting.

Not in a way that was obvious, but in a way that was distinctly him.

His posture was casual, leaning against the back of his couch, one hand resting lightly on the armrest. He had changed, too—no longer in his suit jacket, just his dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing the veins in his forearms, the carefully restrained tension in his body.

His gaze flickered over her, slow like he was taking his time, committing every detail to memory.

She knew what he saw.

Bare legs peeking out from beneath his robe. Damp hair curling against her collarbone. The softened edges of her normally sharp expression.

And for once—

For once, she let him look.

She watched his throat bob slightly, something unreadable flashing behind his eyes before he exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair.

“Come here.”

Her lips twitched. “Bossy.”

He didn’t deny it. Just waited.

She crossed the room, bare feet pressing against the smooth floor, stopping when she was just a few inches away.

Harry’s hands curled into fists against the couch for a second, like he was fighting the urge to touch her.

Then without a word he turned, disappearing into his bedroom.

She blinked, startled.

Then—

He came back.

With clothes.

A pair of sweatpants.

A plain black T-shirt.

Things that were clearly his, judging by the size of them.

He handed them to her, jaw tight. “Put these on.”

She took them, amused. “You actually own sweatpants?”

Harry exhaled through his nose, running a hand along his jaw. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t sleep in a tux.”

She grinned. “Shocking.”

He said nothing.

Just watched as she took the bundle of clothing and walked back toward the bathroom to change.

His sweatpants hung low on her hips, the waistband tied in a loose knot to keep them from slipping. The shirt was too big, drowning her frame, the fabric worn in and soft against her skin.

It felt like being wrapped in him.

Warmth lingered in the cotton, in the faint scent of his cologne. Something expensive.

She padded barefoot through the penthouse, fingers fidgeting with the hem of the shirt. The city glittered outside the floor to ceiling windows.

Everything about this place was so immaculate. So clean. So structured. It screamed of control—of a man who ruled his world with precision.

But the moment she entered it some of that control seemed to slip.

She could feel it in the way Harry watched her, the way his fingers twitched when she walked past him, as if resisting the urge to reach out and keep her close.

She stopped in front of the window, arms crossing over her chest, her breath fogging slightly against the cool glass. “You can see everything from here.”

Harry was behind her, watching her quietly. “You like it?”

She exhaled, eyes scanning the skyline. “Yeah. But…”

His brow lifted slightly. “But?”

She hesitated. Then with a small teasing smirk, she turned to face him. “It’s kinda depressing that you live up here all alone.”

Harry’s jaw twitched. “I’m fine.”

She huffed. “That’s what all lonely people say.”

His lips curved just slightly, something almost amused flickering behind his sharp gaze. “And you’re an expert on loneliness?”

She shrugged, moving closer, the fabric of his shirt swaying against her thighs. “I know what it looks like.”

Harry watched her approach, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “And what do I look like?”

She tilted her head, scanning him playfully. “Like a very, very rich man who doesn’t know what to do with himself outside of work.”

Harry huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Accurate.”

She grinned, victorious. “Told you.”

For a moment they just stood there.

Him watching her.

Her watching him.

The silence between them wasn’t empty.

It was heavy. Charged.

Harry’s gaze flickered to her legs, to the way his sweatpants hung off her frame, the fabric pooling at her ankles. Then to the curve of her hip, the way his T-shirt stretched over her body, swallowing her whole.

Something deep and dangerous stirred in his chest.

She looked good like this.

Too good.

Her chin tilted up, eyes meeting his. “You really don’t talk much, do you?”

His hand lifted, brushing her damp hair back behind her ear. His touch was light, barely there, but it made her breath catch.

His fingers trailed lower, down her jaw, grazing the edge of her throat.

She swallowed.

His voice was deep when he finally spoke. “I say what matters.”

Her lips parted slightly, something unspoken hanging between them.

She felt it before she realized what she was doing.

The way her body leaned into his.

The way his fingers skimmed over the fabric of his shirt against her skin, so close, yet still too far.

His touch was careful.

Like he was memorizing her.

She exhaled shakily. “You keep looking at me like that.”

Harry’s thumb brushed over her hip. “Like what?”

“Like you’re trying to figure something out.”

“I am.”

She blinked. “What?”

Harry’s hand slid lower, fingers teasing along the edge of his sweatpants on her frame. His voice was softer this time, almost dangerous.

“If I can control myself.”

Her breath hitched.

She wasn’t sure who moved first.

Maybe it was him. Maybe it was her.

But suddenly—

They weren’t talking anymore.

His lips crashed against hers, urgent and deep, his hands gripping her waist, pulling her flush against him. She gasped into his mouth, fingers tangling in the fabric of his dress shirt as he devoured her.

The world blurred.

She barely registered the way he picked her up, his hands firm around her thighs as he hoisted her up, murmuring quietly against her ear, “Jump.”

And she did.

Wrapped her legs around his waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He carried her through the penthouse with effortless strength, like she weighed nothing, like holding her close was something he’d done a thousand times before.

And then—

He walked her backward towards his bed, his mouth never leaving her skin, breath warm against her jaw.

The mattress hit the backs of her knees, sending her falling onto it in a slow, melting sprawl of limbs and want.

The soft silk duvet caught her, cool against the fever of her skin, her hair spilling across his impossibly expensive sheets. The room was dim but warm, the city humming just beyond the glass windows, the skyline glittering like a thousand secrets no one else would ever know.

Harry stood above her, his breathing deeper now, his eyes locked onto her like he was trying to memorize the moment. Like she was a painting he hadn’t expected to fall in love with.

She propped herself up on her elbows, staring back. Waiting. Wanting.

Harry’s fingers moved to his collar first. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, one button at a time, revealing inch after inch of warm, lived in skin beneath it. He wasn’t carved like marble—wasn’t the chiseled fantasy that Hollywood sold in glossy posters.

He was real.

His chest was broad, his arms strong but not perfect. Age spots dotted his skin like constellations, a faint scar ran along the side of his ribs, and when his shirt slipped off his shoulders, she saw the slight softness of his belly.

A pouch.

Honest. Natural. Human.

And when her eyes lingered there—he froze.

She could tell.

The way his breath caught. The flicker of hesitation in his brow.

He was used to being looked at like a power figure. A man in suits. Behind desks. Holding titles and leverage.

But being seen like this?

Like a man—just a man—baring everything? That was different.

She sat up slowly, still watching him. She didn’t say anything, didn’t tease, didn’t fill the space with false comfort.

She just reached for him.

Her fingers skimmed across the skin of his abdomen, soft and warm beneath her touch, and she whispered, “Come here.”

Something in him shifted.

Like maybe he believed her.

That she wanted all of him.

He slid out of his slacks, slow and deliberate, leaving him in nothing but his briefs for a moment before they, too, joined the pile of fabric on the floor.

Then he reached for her.

She let him.

His hands were careful when they peeled off her borrowed T-shirt, pulling it over her head and dropping it aside. Then her body lifted instinctively as he slid the sweatpants down her hips, revealing soft skin, flushed and ready beneath him.

Now they were skin to skin.

Warm and real.

Harry hovered over her, the muscles in his arms flexing slightly as he held himself above her, his gaze moving slowly down her body.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

Just like that.

No flourish. No performance.

Just a truth that had been sitting in his chest since the moment he first saw her.

She reached up and cupped his jaw, her thumb brushing just beneath his lip. “So are you.”

His breath hitched.

And then he kissed her.

Not rough. Not greedy.

Deep.

Warm.

Slow.

The kind of kiss that says I see you. I feel you. I’m here.

His hands roamed her body like he couldn’t decide what he wanted to touch first—her ribs, her hips, the soft curve of her breast beneath his palm.

And then—

He began to slide lower.

Kissing down her neck.

Dragging his lips across her collarbone.

Sinking further and further until he was kneeling between her thighs, the backs of his hands brushing gently along the insides of her legs, coaxing them apart like he was opening something sacred.

She was already breathing heavy, already undone just from the look in his eyes.

He settled between her legs like he belonged there.

And maybe—he did.

He didn’t dive in like a man with something to prove. He took his time.

Let her feel his breath first.

The heat of his mouth pressing gentle, almost shy kisses to her thighs.

Then—

He licked a slow, deliberate stripe up her center, groaning low when he tasted her.

Like she was the answer to a hunger he didn’t know he’d been carrying.

Her hips jerked. Her fingers scrambled for the sheets.

He pressed his palms to her hips, grounding her, murmuring something too quiet to make out.

Then his mouth opened on her again.

Tongue.

Lips.

Heat.

Every part of him focused on unraveling her.

She moaned, soft and choked, as his tongue circled her clit, slow at first, then faster with just the right amount of pressure.

He adjusted when she squirmed.

Groaned when she whimpered.

Moved with her, not against her.

Like this was a language only he spoke.

She looked down once—just once—and saw him watching her.

Eyes locked to hers.

Dark. Hungry. But more than that...captivated.

Like he could spend the rest of his life right here, on his knees tasting her like he needed her to survive.

His mustache scraped lightly against the tender skin of her thighs, a delicious burn. His fingers dug into her hips as his mouth worked in steady rhythm, not relenting even when she gasped, Harry, please—

Especially then.

He moaned against her like her begging was the most beautiful sound in the world.

And then—

She broke.

She came with a soft, shattered gasp, her body buckling as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her. Her hands found his hair, her legs trembled, her hips rolled up into his mouth.

He held her through all of it.

Licked her through it.

Didn’t stop until she was whimpering from overstimulation, her fingers tugging weakly at his hair.

Only then—only then—did he lift his head.

His mouth was slick, his jaw tense, his chest heaving.

He crawled back up the bed, lips brushing her cheek, her neck, the corner of her mouth.

He kissed her slowly.

Didn’t try to speak.

He just laid beside her, naked and warm and quiet.

Letting her curl into him.

Letting the silence stretch.

Letting himself feel.

And when she finally caught her breath, when she looked up at him and whispered, “You okay?”

Harry gave her a look so full of tenderness it nearly undid her all over again.

“I am now,” he said.

And she believed him.

They laid there, skin to skin, her fingers tracing slow, thoughtless shapes against his chest while his hand rested on the curve of her hip not wanting to let go, grounding them both in something quiet and real.

For the first time in months, Harry hadn’t thought about Lucy.

Not once.

Not her laugh, not the space she left behind.

He only thought about the girl breathing softly in his arms, asleep against his chest like she belonged there.

And when his eyes finally closed, he felt safe.

Maybe for the first time in his life.

[thebroccolination]

Hi Key, your post is the second I've seen that hinted at Joss but without further explanation. He generally has a positive public perception and I only know him from 3WBF (which I liked), so I'm curious where this shift in perception is coming from recently.

Would you mind making a post or directing me to where I can learn more about his general...situation.

I apologize if this is intrusive since I know you don't like to engage in Fandom Drama and like to keep your space positive, but I don't have XTwitter and his Tumblr tag is usually quite dead.

Thank you in advance!

Why I Don't Fuck with Joss: An Extremely Academic Essay of Words and Screenshots

Hi Anon!

I normally would have DM'd you an answer to this, but since you sent the ask anonymously and you were very kind in how you asked, I didn't want to ignore you.

However, two things:

I do generally make it a policy to keep my negative personal thoughts about certain actors to private conversations or, y'know, Discord servers, just to keep it off public platforms where toxicity is already rampant. In this case, though, I think the situation is interesting enough to comment on. (Plus, y'know, I'm amazed he was even managing a comeback when he's been known to Be Like This for years.)

I didn't get a lot of primary sources for this post because quite frankly I don't like Joss and I don't want to look at his face any more than I already have. However, friends who've been following this more closely than I have were able to verify that there are sources out there for everything I'm going to mention. Just, y'know, don't use me or this post as a source. This isn't one of my Citations Included Posts, this is just a Why I Don't Fuck with This Guy Post.

So, for context, I made this post last month, and someone made a more explicitly worded reblog here that's honestly better if you're going in without any context.

Essentially, Joss has had a dodgy reputation for years, but I think because fan turnover is high in interfandom and he's never been in a BL series before, most interfans just know Joss as A Tall Man Who Likes Sportsball.

But when I got into Thai BL back in 2020, Joss was one of the first actors I heard of as ~Problematique~ so I looked into him, and what I learned made me go, "Ew," so I just keenly ignored him from then on. (General gross stuff like the Domundi boob-grabbing prank and some assorted Dudebro comments about women. I don't remember specifics anymore because he was barely on my radar, but a friend at the time who'd been in fandom longer basically told me, "Yeah, that's Joss, lol.")

Interestingly, before JossGawin became a thing, most interfans were rooting for JossLuke, but I think given how vocally left-leaning Luke has proven to be, I wouldn't be surprised if Luke saw the prospect of tying his public reputation to Joss and went, "lol no goddamn thank you."

Gawin, on the other hand, seems to be down for whatever GMMTV wants him to do, so he probably just sees Joss as a colleague he makes out with (acting is a weird job). He went to high school in western Pennsylvania, he has white relatives on his dad's side, and he hangs out with the Gym Dudes of GMMTV, so I'm sure he's completely desensitized and is one of those guys who thinks, "Nah," but doesn't go so far as to say, "Not cool, dude." The Gawin Caskey Method seems to be: throw a basketball, make out with a dude on camera, go home and eat an edible. Dismount.

Unfortunately, even though Gawin's never really made any political statements or taken any major stand for the queer community, he's gained goodwill that some people are now calling into question because of Joss.

Anyway, apparently Joss used to follow Andrew Tate on Twitter until Tate was suspended, so it seems a lot of people assumed Joss unfollowed Tate, but yeah, between the sexist comments, Boobgate, and admiring Joe Rogan, that was enough for me to physically recoil from the screen when I saw the teaser for MGB.

Okay NOW, everything from this point onward is new stuff I've learned over the past month that made me go, "Oh. So he's worse now."

Joss has apparently had that Joe Rogan quote pinned to his Twitter account since 2020, but people just shrugged it off because they like his man stomach or something? (I don't find him attractive, but even if I did, I truly don't understand how he made it this far. It feels like he's been pretty firmly canceled every year since I got here, honestly.)

I also didn't like him weight-shaming Gawin. There's some older clip of him calling Gawin fat, and I know in Asia it's more common to comment on other people's bodies and weight, but I also recently found out that he got Gawin a meat cake for his birthday because idk actual cake is for pussies? (Sorry, Anon, I was trying to aim for an objective tone but I abandoned it because I reeeally don't like this man.) And apparently a lot of JG fanservice is just Joss and Gawin at the gym so Joss can teach Gawin self-control or something? I've had their tag blocked from the beginning, so you'll have to look into that if you're curious.

Ah, and at some point in the last few months, Joss was apparently asked what his "type" is and he said something like "white, skinny English-speaking Europeans/Americans"(?) Which apparently made Asian women go, "Hey, c'mere real quick: good. Bye."

I also thought it was a huge red flag that Joss has been in the industry for years, and his domestic fanbase is still quite small. Others have pointed out that very few fan interactions with him are in Thai, and he's clearly courting a western audience both in his individual engagement and by partnering with a mixed American actor. When he did the LGBTQ+ panel last summer, apparently the reaction from Thai commenters was, "lmao why Joss?" not, "Oh yes, of course, Joss!"

So it seems like GMMTV has been trying to do a rebrand for Joss using Gawin and interfans more generally since Joss speaks English and interfans don't generally seek out the resources to do research. Remember last year when GMMTV announced that Y-MIND script competition? It was originally domestic only, but after Thai fans overwhelmingly went, "The contract terms here are wildly exploitative, so fuck off," GMMTV rereleased the promotional material in English and went, "HEY INTERFANS WANNA SEND US STUFF :D?"

That told me they really don't think especially highly of us.

On December 15th, someone pointed out that Joss didn't just follow Trump on Twitter, he also followed a ton of extreme alt-right accounts on Instagram. Not normal political figures, either. Obscure figures like Pearl, Candace Owens, that guy who was saying Your Body My Choice, and Andrew Tate's right-hand man, and more! Some of his fans tried to point out that he follows progressive Thai politicians, but as far as the American side, he only followed alt-right conservative accounts with zero liberal accounts.

Though, in fairness, someone did point out that Joss also follows famous progressive Democratic figures [checks notes] comedian Chris Rock and basketball player Stephen Curry.

So. Whoohoo for that, amirite?

Since Joss's fans weren't having much success defending him on their own, they threw some @'s at his account to get him to make some kind of statement that would somehow explain away why he was following a deep, deep alt-right fanatic like Pearl. (Spoiler: He didn't.)

The JossGawin International fan club even released the above statement to address the issue, then received such alarmingly vitriolic backlash from the JossGawin fandom for "betraying" Joss that the fanclub decided to deactivate entirely. (I have no idea if they reactivated or not, since I stopped keeping up with this whole debacle shortly afterward.)

One Thai(?) JossGawin fan actually seems to have used ChatGPT to create an English comment to chastise the fanclub for their lack of support in Joss's dire times:

Amusingly, rather than address his fans' concerns or unfollow any of the accounts causing the chaos, Joss instead just started deleting any comment on his Instagram that called on him to comment.

Five days later, he unfollowed 137 accounts. No idea how many of those were alt-right extremists and how many were just extra padding to make it look like a general cleanse, but it was at least fifty last I heard, and the fact that 1) it took him nearly a week to do anything but delete the comments calling him out, and 2) his first tweet after this whole mess was a quote-retweet of GMMTV's message welcoming Barcode into the company saying, "lol this kid looks like if me and Gawin had a baby" just goes to show how unthreatened he feels.

After all, Joss has been this way for years, and his upcoming series with Gawin is probably going to do numbers regardless. He's successfully rebuilt his stagnant career off the support of interfans, and he knows he'll be fine.

Even Foei has a show with Tay! We're all good here. \:D/

So yeah! That's why I don't fuck with Joss. \:D/

This'll be the last I say on Joss publicly.

I just figured I'd make one all-encompassing post so I can link back to this in case anyone asks why I'm not supporting any of Gawin's projects with Joss. It's a shame because I do really like Gawin, but this isn't even a hard choice for me to make.

Oh, and while we're on the subject: the director of MGB, Ark, is also Not a Good Dude by all accounts I've heard from multiple people who've interacted with him privately. I mean, he sure is queer, but he's also said to be a misogynist with some white-people-worshipping tendencies. He doesn't have the highest opinion of BL fandom in general, either, especially when you look back on his whole direction of IT'S NOT A BL Shadow. Just, y'know, another reminder that queer people aren't Virtuous or Evil by nature. We're a big ole clusterfuck of nuance, so you don't have to support MGB for Ark just because he's a queer man. I have zero proof that I can share publicly, so you don't have to take my word for it. Just, y'know, in case you were on the fence, I've heard he's a dick.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go write absolutely filthy gay porn to purify myself from writing Joss's name so many times.

[kaz-oooo]

Seen some people talking about Lovejoy and Wilbur Soot’s music and feeling very upset about letting go of those songs since they brought a lot of comfort and joy.

I’m not gonna tell you what you should and shouldn’t do. I think it’s ultimately up to you to decide if you want to continue listening to Wilbur’s music or not. What I am gonna do is list some alternative artists that I either think have similar vibes or I know Wilbur / Lovejoy had cited as inspirations so you guys can find some new tunes without stepping too far out of you comfort zone.

(Also feel free to tag on and add your own suggestions as well, the more the merrier)

Lovejoy

Arctic Monkeys — when Wilbur started the band he claimed he wanted to be like the Arctic Monkeys one day. I’ve also described a lot of their later music as being very similar to Arctic Monkeys, so if you like Wake Up and It’s over and Normal People Things then you’d love them

Los Campansino’s — Wilbur has stated before that this is his favourite band so.. very likely big inspiration for his music. Lovejoy did a cover of Knee Deep at ATP, their version is a bit more chill than the original. I’m a big Los Campansino’s fan honestly, but for stuff Lovejoy related I’ve say the albums “Sick Scenes” and “Romance Is Boring” would have the most appeal.

Wet Leg — just a good band that I think has a similar vibe, especially with themes and funky tunes. Also I’ve seen Wilbur list them in his personal playlists before so he enjoys them as well

Good Kid — not a personal favourite of mine, but their songs have similar vibes and they toured with Lovejoy as well so Lovejoy enjoy their music.

James Marriot — (editing Kaz here.. not gonna change the phrasing of this part but I’ve been told James Marriott has unfollowed Wilbur on Twitter) friend of Wilbur’s (do with that information as you will) excellent musician and would heartily recommend his music if you haven’t listened already. Also worked very closely with the band before, especially in the early days so I wouldn’t doubt they’ve influenced each others music quite a bit

MSR and YCGMA

100gecs and other hyperpop artists — admittedly not a genre I listen to a lot, but if you liked Dropshipped Cat Shirt, especially the ending, then you’ll vibe with this genre a lot.

Jack Stauber — Wilbur’s been a longtime fan of his music, it’s a bit weird and silly on a surface level but nice and miserable as well. If you like MSR I’d recommend.

Crywank — helped Wilbur with producing MSR, plus I think Wilbur took some heavy inspiration from them as well. If you like miserable music you’ll love Crywank. (Also Lovejoy did a cover of privately owned, so if you liked that go check out the original)

More Los Campansino’s — ok.. I’m repeating bands now, but I’m recommending different albums this time! “We Are Beautiful, We Are Doomed” “Hello Sadness” and “No Blues”

Peach Pit — again, not a favourite of mine but they have nice chill vibes and the songs I’ve listened to are just as miserable as these albums.

Beabadoobee — once again, not someone I listen to a lot, but definitely got the same chill acoustic music as YCGMA especially, Lovejoy had done a cover of The Perfect Pair so if you liked that, and you like these albums you’d like beabadoobee.

E-girl Trilogy / comedy music

Bo Burnham — another favourite artist of Wilbur’s, someone else he’s cited as an inspiration and top tier comedy tunes! If you like Wilbur’s sadder music as well you’d definitely enjoy Inside. Otherwise his older music is great and very fun!

Lemon Demon — probably not an inspiration for Wilbur’s comedy music, but he’s definitely listened to it, it’s very fun and silly, also Ranboo highly recommends (as do I)

Other recommendations

Modern Baseball — found this band through Wilbur’s recommendations, they’re very fun and cool. Very Midwest emo, a genre that I think inspired MSR.

The Front Bottoms.. but with a warning — so I’m not super familiar with the story, but from memory a former member abused a fan, they aren’t apart of the band anymore but the current members handled the situation very poorly. This was another favourite band of Wilbur’s and I get why, very emotional and angsty. I find their lyrics hit a bit harder than Modern Baseball’s but they make very similar music.

AJJ — kinda similar to Crywank, another band I found through Wilbur’s recommendation.

Radiohead / the smiths / the cure / the strokes / just 70’s and 80’s alt rock bands — Wilbur definitely enjoys this music and took inspiration here and they’re all very cool and fun. I’m not super familiar with these bands but I know a lot from this time have good old controversies so be mindful of that, but yeahhh good music!

I don’t know how but the found me — alt/indie rock band with very fun tunes! Sits alongside Wilbur’s comedy music and Lovejoy in my playlists a lot of the times so.. if you like those two you’d probably like this band :) also Dallon Weekes deserves all the love in the world, all his former bandmates (Brendon Urie and Ryan Seaman) keep fucking him over.

Cavetown — not sadboy acoustic like YCGMA but very chill and good acoustic tunes nonetheless. Also a bit similar to Beabadoobee so if you like that you’ll like this :) oh also, i know a lot of people liked Lovejoy cos they gave off a lot of aromantic vibes, Cavetown is openly Aro / Ace so.. lots of aro vibes in his music :D

Yotam Perel — Wilbur used his music in the background of his streams, typically the album "Nice Snakes" but he used "A Long List of Short Songs" as well. It's great background music honestly, some songs have entered my top 100 playlists on spotify, but yeah, if you liked the funky tunes in the back of the geoguessr streams, this is what he played

[suzukiblu]

I kind of want to try your method of posting wips a snippet at a time while writing them, but on the other hand I am nervous about it. Can you give me some advice?

I've been trying to nail down the mixed feelings, and this is what I've got so far:

for:

it will get eyes on my fics faster, and I can show off what I've written sooner, instead of needing to finish a whole chapter

it will encourage engagement both in reacting to specific posts and in asking for more

it will be more chances for people to be intrigued and want to read the whole fic

against:

what if I do it and nobody cares?

til now I've been releasing fics a chapter at a time and it would feel weird to change that. inertia and all

what do I do if/when I change something I've written and already posted a snippet of?

it feels weird to post them on my writing blog, which currently only holds finished chapters (and fanart), but if I post them on my main, I feel like they'll get lost and/or I'll miss reactions in my busy activity channel. Where should I post it to? Should I make yet another sideblog?

in direct response to your listed mixed feelings, in my personal experience of writing this way:

for:

it will get eyes on my fics faster, and I can show off what I've written sooner, instead of needing to finish a whole chapter: yes it will, and it feels great! and personally it also helps me keep momentum and helps soften the sting if I drop a fic/chapter later and people don't have much to say about it. I KNOW it's good, other people already told me they liked it!! no, I'm not gonna throw out the whole story because of one mediocre reception, SHUT UP IMPOSTER SYNDROME AND GET BACK IN THE WRITING TRENCHES.

it will encourage engagement both in reacting to specific posts and in asking for more: yes it does, and WAY more people consistently (and more gratifyingly!) engage with me since I've made a habit of posting this way, especially when they're especially interested in a specific WIP over my other ones, and a lot of people just seem to be more engaged and invested in my writing in general. or at least more willing to tell me that they are, if nothing else, haha.

it will be more chances for people to be intrigued and want to read the whole fic: yes it will, and if you post larger scenes and tag them, then more people are likelier to find you/your writing than would if you only post one chapter in the tags however often you update those. also, if you have a fic-specific WIP tag that you link to, it's very easy for people who are just discovering the WIP to go back and catch up all at once ( or for people who aren't into it to blacklist, if that's a concern, as opposed to them feeling like they have to unfollow/block you ).

against:

what if I do it and nobody cares? good news: they probably won't care! at least to start. that's just kinda how it is, to start. I get a lot of engagement because I am REAL prolific and do my best to be responsive, plus I've been updating this blog and in this specific fandom pretty consistently for over a year, and also have also been in online fandom spaces on and off for, like, legit twenty-five years at this point. so I am just very used to being in these spaces, and I also have readers who've followed me for a decade+ or even since I was an actual literal TEENAGER in at least a couple cases, so like, they're already kinda invested in my writing, haha. there are people following this blog who not only read my Inu-Yasha Miroku/Sesshoumaru fanfic back in the day in the Pit of Voles but also still REMEMBER reading my Inu-Yasha Miroku/Sesshoumaru fanfic back in the day in the Pit of Voles, to say nothing of everyone who found me through AtLA or the MCU or the Witcher ( or so, so much Star Wars meta, the Star Wars meta has also definitely been a thing ). also I update my blog pretty consistently and I do writing memes that reward the people who play with me with new content and more progress in their fave WIPs, and also they're technically "voting" for what they wanna see more of, so that also adds to them feeling engaged/invested and me feeling motivated/energized, because they feel like they've affected the growth and progress of the story ( which they have ) and I feel like they're enjoying the story and genuinely appreciate it ( which they do! ). so everyone wins!

til now I've been releasing fics a chapter at a time and it would feel weird to change that. inertia and all: yeah that is the sunk-cost fallacy trying to fuck you up and you can and should tell it to fuck off. if you try it and you don't like the change, you can just stop doing it. you're free! no one can stop you!! hit the bricks, do your thing, the past is gone and it is NOT in charge of your ass! your ass is all yours!! whatever, we do what we want! I am in fact giving you explicit PERMISSION to do what you want.

what do I do if/when I change something I've written and already posted a snippet of?: then you've changed something! if it's a major change, you can repost the updated scene or mention you're making a change in a separate post or just say there's been a significant change when you post the chapter and therefore people who've already read the WIP posts might wanna reread it, but personally I change and tweak and fiddle with stuff I've already posted all the time. usually it's just bits of phrasing or formatting or adding in little details to round stuff out or correct mistakes, or to clarify things that confused people or that I forgot about, but sometimes it's adding multiple paragraphs or even additional little scenes. it's absolutely a thing I do and a thing that I consider fair play. you're literally posting "work-in-progress" excerpts, it is in the NAME that stuff might/will change or be adjusted. shit, if you feel like it, throw the whole story out and start over with a 2.0 WIP tag!! art is meant to be fucked with!!!!

it feels weird to post them on my writing blog, which currently only holds finished chapters (and fanart), but if I post them on my main, I feel like they'll get lost and/or I'll miss reactions in my busy activity channel. Where should I post it to? Should I make yet another sideblog?: the past is gone! you are free!! it's a writing blog that is for your writing and you can write whatever you want on it. the rules are made up and the points don't matter!! if you want a WIP blog too, you can totally start a WIP blog too, but you also don't have to feel obligated to bloat your sideblog collection or to have to go to all the effort of building up a brand-new following for a brand-new blog when there's already people who followed another blog of yours specifically for your writing. it's your writing blog. it's for your writing. write on it how you please!! if you're SUPER-concerned about the change, include a specific tag on all your WIP snippets that people can just blacklist if they only wanna see your full finished updates. for example I use "rintalk" so people can skip my random talky posts/asks if they wanna but also won't accidentally be filtering out anything they DO wanna see from anyone else on their dash; they can specifically avoid just mine. so like, maybe "octo WIPs" or "nb WIPs" or just whatever you're into would work for you, or just something like that.

unrelated to your for/against: posting stuff like this is not an approach that'll give everyone the same results or even WORK for everyone, obviously, but it works for me because again, I'm prolific, responsive, tend to follow my readers' interests, and have been doing this a lonnnggggg time and have built up an audience both from past fandoms and in specifically DC fandom. and also I'm super, super ADHD. definitely also because of the ADHD. there is . . . there is just so much ADHD lol.

but yeah, like, I'm pretty sure I've been updating pretty consistently for the past . . . what, year or so of DC-hyperfixation? something like that?? I've also published over 300k to AO3 in that time and GOD knows how much more word count I've put up on Tumblr, so like . . . tl;dr, I absolutely think you should give it a try and see if it works for you/if you like it, I just also wanna include the caveat that you shouldn't be discouraged if you don't get an immediate return on or big response to said try. like, I dunno what your followers are like or how much they talk to you, obvi, but I personally had to kind of . . . cultivate, basically? I had to cultivate the communication and the back-and-forth, it didn't just happen immediately. we have cultivated, all of us here, hahaha.

for actual practical excerpt-posting advice, generally speaking, the best start I've found for starting out with posting a WIP as you write it is to take, like, the starting scene of the fic/chapter up until either a narratively-interesting/satisfying end point ( or better yet, a cliffhanger ) and post that as a WIP excerpt in the relevant tags. then you're likelier to introduce the story to new people and bring them by your blog to see more, and they'll come in both primed for and LOOKING for WIP excerpts. then, you know, you can post subsequent scenes or bits in chronological order, ideally. personally when I do WIP Wednesday or anything like that, I don't tag little posts like those in the main tags, just with a WIP tag specific to their story ( which, like, obvi you know I have those, haha, I know you've been around MORE than long enough and even if you hadn't pretty sure I already mentioned them somewhere up there anyway, I'm just being thorough ), but anything that's pushing 400-500 words or longer gets fully tagged with ships/characters/fandom/etc and gets chrono/non-chrono links included in the post and then sent out into the world as my lil' story ambassador, haha. just, you know, use a cut or at least a "long post" tag if it's much longer than that, because like, Tumblr manners and all, hah.

ummmmm . . . so yeah idk how much of that was helpful for you, obviously, but if you have follow-up questions or anything, feel free to hit me up, I'm always down for those and I'll do my best to answer!

[queermania]

I don't want to start drama and I don't expect you to respond to this but I think you deserve to know what's being said about you. tumblr. com/transfagbenny/738678589192552448/and-id-appreciate-if-we-stopped-using-the-terms

i actually am going to address this because this person has been lying about what's been going on for months and they've apparently been harassing other people for months if not years, so. it's time to put an end to this.

before i start though i want to make it abundantly clear that if you take this as an opportunity to do anything other than block this person, then you are trash. do not send him messages. do not tag him in things. do not harass him in any way. leave him alone. if you need to block, do so and then move on. hate mail and harassment is disgusting behavior and i don't want to be surrounded by anybody who engages in it. and if you do it on my behalf, i think you are worthless and i want nothing to do with you.

so, this is what happened: back in february of 2023, an anon asked me if i had any opinions that would get me canceled with the dean girlies. i replied, "oh now we’re talking!! hmmmm let’s see. i don’t care about benny at all. deanbenny does nothing for me. deanbenny is dust. it is dust. drowley rights forever" and i did not tag it because i'm not an asshole. bear then sent me a message that at the time i thought was funny/cute because his url reflected that he was obviously a huge benny fan. we had a very cordial exchange. everything was good. we chatted a little bit about how neat it would've been if benny had been played by a black actor and how the racism problem with gordon would've been fixed if gordon had been played by a white actor. not all of our conversation is visible anymore (and i also don't think all of it was on this post anyway) because i've since blocked him so his replies no longer show up on my posts. the point is: everything was fine. it was a good tumblr exchange. he continued to follow me. i did not follow him then or at any point.

the problem is that he kept coming onto my posts and into my inbox to try to make things about benny. that is not okay. i had already said that benny was a character (and deanbenny a ship) that i was not interested in. to me, this is an obvious boundary i've established that he repeatedly crossed. it's not an egregious violation, obviously. more than anything it's annoying. what he should've done, if benny was that important to him, was unfollow me and move on. but he didn't and i indulged him for awhile but at a certain point i thought, "okay maybe if i stop indulging him, he'll take the hint." so i stopped responding. he did not take the hint. he got worse and he even started commenting on things that he couldn't make about benny, just to willfully misinterpret things i said and taking them completely out of context. unfortunately, i don't have receipts for any of this because at the time i didn't know it was going to become an actual problem (however I have since learned that this is an established pattern of behavior he engages in, so you can probably find examples on other people's blogs).

it got so annoying, though, that i very carefully broached the subject in a private server with people i trusted. without naming any names or using any incriminating language (i.e. not specifically referencing benny), i basically said that there was someone being annoying about a specific character on my posts and i wasn't sure what to do about it. immediately, a handful of people replied with some variation of "the benny stan? he's been doing that to me too." i do have receipts of this (and an entire server to back me up) but i hope you can all understand why i'm not going to provide those or name names (or ask anyone to get involved publicly). the point is, it became apparent that i wasn't the only one and this was a pattern of behavior. i also learned during that conversation that bear has a history of harassing people and calling someone racist or a transphobe if they block him.

at that point, i decided not to rock the boat. i would just continue to ignore him and maybe he would get bored and move on. well that obviously didn't happen. he kept doing it and as a fun added bonus, he started to make vague posts about me. the thing is i don't actually care if he vagueblogs about me. it's his blog. he can do whatever he wants. it's none of my business. i mean i personally think he should've just unfollowed but, again, his blog, his choice. it is annoying that every single time he would do it, someone would send me a link or a screenshot of him doing it, but that's not really his fault. so, again, i just ignored it.

this is where we get to the incident in question. after a private discussion among a small group of friends, i posted this obviously joke poll at the insistence of @letterstothedevil, a tumblr user who has given me permission to include her in this.

the original message about the poll:

the permission:

now EYE think it's abundantly clear that the poll was a joke amongst friends, but maybe it wasn't, and i'm not going to fault anyone for not magically knowing that. i am, however, totally willing to fault someone for being a gigantic asshole. bear commented on the post and i, admittedly, gave a somewhat dismissive response because at that point i was so tired of him being willfully obtuse and twisting every little thing i said that i just didn't want to bother. he then went and made a series of not-at-all-vague posts calling me racist and claiming that i simply do not care about the racism in the show and it's obvious because i've never ever discussed it on my blog (which is a hilarious lie given that i'd specifically discussed it on my blog with him). at that point, there was no reason not to block him. he was already doing the thing that i didn't want to deal with. so i did. and i thought that would be the end of it.

again, i was wrong.

i then started to get anon messages daily about benny and deanbenny and how i'm racist for not liking benny, etc. this was harassment that EYE was on the receiving end of. nobody else was a victim of the messages i was being sent. they were sent to me and it is not my job to make sure other people are protected from the harassment that i am experiencing. i'm pointing this out for two reasons: 1. because i did try to protect bear from it for awhile anyway. i knew that people would assume it was him and at the time i was still giving him the benefit of the doubt, if for no other reason than the fact that i didn't think he could send me messages since i blocked him. and 2. because when i did finally start to respond to some of the messages, bear acted like he was somehow the victim in all of this (and continues to act that way to this day).

i don't know if bear had (or currently has) anything to do with any of the messages i get (which, thankfully, have slowed considerably). what i do know is that at no point during any of this happening did he stop looking at my blog and vagueblogging about me.

when i finally did answer a few of the messages, bear had a bit of a meltdown about it. i know this because he used a separate account that i hadn't know existed to message me and because he talked to one of my friends about it. (i'm not going to name that person but if they want to get involved publicly of their own accord, that's up to them lol). i'm also not going to share screenshots of what bear said to me because he explicitly asked me not to (it's also the reason i'm not sharing screenshots of the numerous receipts i have of the things he's said and lied about on his blog but, unless he's deleted any of them, you can go and find the posts yourselves.) what i am going to share is that in the message he sent to me, he flat out lied about his behavior. he told me he hadn't been vague-blogging about me, that he would never ever do that about anyone, and that he would certainly never harass someone (all things that i have receipts of him doing).

it took me awhile to respond to this message because i was still trying to be gracious about the whole situation. i recognize that he is much younger than i am and i think it's important for me, as a full blown adult, to take that into account. i had a private discussion with a few trusted friends about how to handle this because it was important to me to not let him off the hook for his behavior and for lying just because he's young. this is what i ended up saying:

his response was to double-down on his lies (while, hilariously, vague-blogging about me and the whole thing) and then go into victim mode about something so completely unrelated and far-fetched that i decided i simply wanted nothing to do with him ever. (this is when he asked me not to share screenshots, so i won't, but this is me saying that i have ALL of the receipts, bear, so if you continue to lie, you will not like what happens.) i blocked his alternate account and tried to ignore him.

the harassment continued. again, i have no idea if he was actually part of it. the vagueblogging continued. he started to do it to other people he associated with me. many of them blocked him because of his behavior. i continued to answer some of the hate i received, continued to ignore and/or block most of it. it got so bad that i was sent seizure bait on more than one occasion, one time bad enough that i actually ended up going to the ER. there are receipts of all of this, too. you can see on my blog the messages i've been sent. i think at one point i even shared a snapshot of what my inbox looked like. i've shared privately with friends (who can confirm if they want to, but no pressure) screenshots of the kinds of messages i get that i don't respond to. the point is, that for a period of months, i was relentlessly harassed. and at no point during this time did i say anything to or about bear (or anyone else). the most i've done is respond to messages that have been sent to me. i've largely sat quietly while this thing happened to me and bear continued to make posts about me and act like he is somehow a victim in this. he's assumed things about me and my identity. he's violated boundaries i've set. he will not let this go. and i'm not the only one he's doing it to.

i'm so fucking tired of it. leave me alone. leave my blog alone. leave my friends alone. leave any and all of the people who have blocked you for your own inappropriate and obnoxious behavior alone. that's it. that's the end. none of this would be happening if you would just respect other people's boundaries. i don't want you on my blog. i do not want to interact with you. i don't want anything to do with you. that's it. the end.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

. . . 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐲.

[ 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 & 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ] —

please read thoroughly before you follow/interact!!

✦ 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭-𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞

this is a smut-free blog!! the reason i say that instead of just sfw blog is because i occasionally rb suggestive content (whether it’s fanart or fics), and write + post dark content (mild gore, horror elements, yan stuff, pseudocest, generally twisted dynamics, etc). those works are always tagged with cw dark content (along w relevant warnings), but some of my general posts are also suggestive/dc-leaning and may not be tagged as well!!!

in other words:

i won’t write or rb full on smut, but that doesn’t mean all my content is sfw / that this is a sfw blog. pls mind the distinction!!

and with that being said — please don’t tag me in smut / heavy dc, or send me any nsfw asks!! suggestive stuff (jokes, tension, bare bodies, suguru’s tits, etc) is obviously fine, but i’d prefer to keep this blog free from anything toooo explicit </3 additionally, i’m uncomfy around pregnancy/childbirth/childrearing topics!!

✦ 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰?

minors are welcome to read and interact with my works (though please mind the warnings on my darker pieces), but i’d appreciate if you didn’t follow this blog!! like mentioned before, my general posts can be suggestive or a little messed up sometimes, and i just don’t like the idea of minors having to see that lmao. please do understand and respect this, it’s for my comfort and yours <3

in the same vein, bloggers who write/interact with smut and dark content are always welcome to follow & interact — just pls mind my own boundaries and understand that i might not be comfortable following back depending on how sensitive i am to the particular content you post, and how you tag it!! it’s never ever personal, just for the sake of curating my own safe space here :3

this seems like a good place to say that i thoroughly support blocking, softblocking & unfollowing for any reason at all!! if my content makes you uncomfortable, or if you find me annoying, or if i’m spamming your dash — or anything else — pleaseeee do whatever you want to do!! never feel pressured to follow me just because you like my writing, or because we’re mutuals, or for any other reason. i will literally never ever take it personally!!

(and adding onto that i do block very liberally to protect my peace, whether you’re a stranger or a mutual (though i tend to softblock when it comes to mutuals! if you have it written in your rules that you’d rather be hardblocked i’ll obviously listen though..) this is never personal either, i really am just trying to curate my dash the best i can as someone who is easily made uncomfortable lol TvT so please, please try not to take it personally or assume the worst about me if i happen to block you, and please don’t pry about my reasoning! it’s never an attack on your person.)

✦ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 / 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬

i don’t take requests, but you’re always more than welcome to drop by my inbox with brainrot or concepts <33 or for any other reason at all!! i don’t bite!!! (neither do the mice)(probably……..)

if you’d like to pick an emoji or title to go with your asks so you can find them more easily, feel free :> so far these are my anons:

🐑 , 🌙 , 🌖 , 🍰 , 🐟 , 🦐 , 🌺 , 🪷 , ❄️ , 🍓 , 🪄, 🐰 , 🎀 , 🧸🍪 , 🫧 , 🃏, 🌷, 🦈, 🥭, ☕️, 🪼, 🪅, 🫀, 🧠, 🙂‍↕️, 🌱, 🪐, 🐰🩺, 🐍, 🪽, sleepy anon, stsg anon and arinon!!

hopefully this goes without saying lmao but!!!: please don’t send me hateful asks, whether they’re directed towards me or any other creators!! they’ll just end up deleted (and you’ll end up blocked). more than anything, please keep in mind that my brain is a big broken mess— sometimes i might answer your ask instantly, other times it could take me weeks…. or months….. they’re constantly piling up, so please know it’s never just your ask!!! i’m always grateful for any tasty thoughts or kind words you send 🥹

✦ 𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐬

many of my favorite characters are awful human beings <3 i’m a lover of all villains and that extends to characters like kenjaku and mei mei, as well as ones like makima (csm) and mori (bsd)!! 

if that makes you uncomfortable, or if you think that equates to me condoning their actions / that liking them reflects my morality irl, then please block me!! i post about my blorbos regularly, and i’d hate to make anyone uncomfortable, but this is my little blog bubble at the end of the day. (+ i disagree with you big time and don’t want that mentality around me … sorry TvT)

✦ 𝐝𝐧𝐢

last, but not least; please do not interact if you are bigoted (racist, queerphobic, misogynistic, pro-israel, etc) + if you are anti-dark content and / or harass people over the fictional content they create or consume (under any circumstances)(any any anyyy circumstances i cannot stress enough that i don’t want antis on this blog . for my comfort and yours, pls respect this! 🫶)

(i know this was a Lot LOL thank you for taking the time to read through it !!!!! TT🫶 it means a lot …. smooching u ……..)

[olderthannetfic]

I find the recent "proshippers who express their dislike for certain AUs/ships/characters are just as bad as antis and aren't really proshippers" discussion to be...interesting? Here's my two cents:

I reject the dichotomy, tbh. I think we, without even realizing it, get a bit too hung up on the "ship" part of it and not hung up enough on the "pro" part of it. We all know that antis don't just send death threats and rape threats and other horrendous stuff just due to ships. They do the same over characters, kinks, tropes, etc. Even if you don't ship Reylo, you're seen as just as bad as the filthy Reylos if you're pro Bendemption.

HOWEVER...I really do not think we should liken "omg they ship wincest how cringe" or even "oh ew wincest is gross, shippers dni" to sending actual hate, threats, etc to wincest shippers. Personally, I am no more or less offended by "I hate Jarley shippers so much, their taste is awful!" than I am by "I hate high school AU writers so much, their taste is awful!" Sure, an anti trashtalking Jarley or other #toxique pairings definitely has more connotations and implications than a proshipper trashtalking ~vanilla~ AUs, but the actual WORDS aren't really all that different, yk?

I think, unless you're actually harassing someone -- and i do mean harassing, not sending a one-off troll anon -- and i do mean someone, not just a vague DNI banner in your card or a general post here and there about how Incest Is Bad, then you can express whatever opinions you want so long as you stay out of the tag and don't say your opinion directly as a reaction to someone telling you about their work. (eg "I just started my MCU/Sherlock crossover fanfic!" "Omg what? That's so cringe! Write a Serbian pigeon movie AU instead")

I'm one of the people who identifies as an ex-anti, but i think i was more of the whole "i'm not, but i believe in their beliefs." I was always against harassment and threats and I often unfollowed/blocked people who DID do that shit or who made callout posts or whatever. If we were close enough, I'd tell the person off, knowing they'd probably be more willing to listen to a friend or mutual who has their beliefs than a stranger on the other end of the spectrum. Really, the worst I ever did was reblog those stupid posts about fiction impacting reality (the infamous Jaws post comes to mind in particular) or about how incest/age gap/etc is Bad and Wrong. Definitely not super cool, but it was by no means bullying or harassment.

If I were to go out of my way and express my hate for a certain series or character or ship or trope in the tag, in the comments, to someone's face, I'd be a pretty terrible person! But if I just post on my blog about how something isn't for me, that's not harassing anyone.

Even today I think I still have a "not, but believe in their beliefs" stance about proshipping. Maybe I wore myself out of it when I was in my anti phase, but at this point I don't really have much desire to discuss it, outside of this ask i guess lol and occasionally some comments on the ao3 subreddit. I don't even reblog those uwu here's how the world works posts that are like "REMINDER that ao3 is an ARCHIVE :) it was created for PROBLEMATIC CONTENT :)" "ALL SHIPS ARE GOOD SHIPS" "fiction is not reality!" types of posts that are not explicitly about proshipping but also are clearly about proshipping. Not even because I disagree, but because at this point in time it feels very similar to reblogging "HEY :) please DONT feed the animals at the zoo :)" "Reminder that you need to TURN YOUR PHONE ON before you can start using it :)" or other like...incredibly basic infos about life lol. It's basically the ship discourse equiv of those early 2012 posts that are like "REBLOG IF YOU SUPPORT GAY MARRIAGE <3" Like, yes, but...I don't need to do bare-bones virtue signalling on my blog for you to figure that out LOL

Im getting off topic and i don't really know what the original point i'm trying to make here is, just like...I get that it always sucks to see someone bashing your taste, even if it's just casual or humorous. but I think if someone is just making a post about how much they dislike certain things, that doesn't mean they're not a pro-shipper. It's only when you start actually being rude to people that I might question your actual "anti-harassment" values. I don't have many dark tastes myself, but I also am not a huge fan of the flowershop/school/job/modern AUs. Me saying "rape fics aren't for me" or "coffee shop fics aren't for me" hold the same exact weight and they say nothing about my views on fiction and what should and shouldn't be read or written; i'm neither a puritan who hates Bad Things nor a pretentious asshat who hates Silly Things. I will support the beloved mutuals'/friends' dark fiction from afar...I will do the exact same thing with their lighthearted fiction. i try not to keep ANY negative opinions on my blog, even if it's just an innocent post about how i dont enjoy a certain thing. but the vocal-minority idea that no one is allowed to say anything negative ever or they're not actually anti harassment is uh. Fascinating for sure!

--

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

For some time I thought about if I should post anything, but I decided to do so in case anyone else needs it (because I have been a tiny bit burnt out for the past year or so):

Your hobbies are supposed to bring you joy. Don't let it become a job; a "responsibility". You don't have to be "on" every day

Chances are that there will be someone who keeps bugging you even after politely telling them that you're not interested or that "you might consider it" or something along those lines. (This is how I ended up doing some role-playing for a fandom I was not interested in, in my dms) Some people will keep expecting things from you, while ignoring your boundaries. Don't let them (aka block; they might call you "mean" or "rude", but you're not)

You can't cater to everyone, so it's better to have your group of friends, along with some friendly acquaintances with whom you can make the best of your fandom experience

A block isn't a reflection of morality or "badness", especially on algorithm based mediums or Discord (tip: if you're in a larger public server with someone who overwhelms you or annoys you, blocking them will hide their messages from you. It's like being able to be in the same club house without forcing yourself to engage with someone) Yes on Tumblr you can always unfollow, but you can still see their posts in the tags. Cater to your experience. A block isn't a big deal (I know I have been blocked by people who don't like seeing reader insert fics in their feed/tags, and that is completely fine. And I have probably been blocked for other reasons as well. It's not a big deal)

Promote things you want to see, create things you want to see, and enjoy the process

Publishing that Work/Art/Fic is scary, but that is the only way to get it out there (and if you're worried about "not being 'good enough'" whatever that might mean, remember that you have to start somewhere. I started with sentences that were all over the place, and just last year got a comment about having good grammar; after 3-4 years of writing in a foreign language)

Be cringe. Be free. Do things you enjoy! Pet a dog, go for a walk, draw that oc or blorbo or both or daydream about them. The world is bleak rn, but you have to try and find enjoyment from little things. You can't give from an empty basket, so if you're spent all the time, being there for those you care about becomes impossible somewhere down the line. "You have to take care of yourself, in order to care for others." Stop to breathe

More often than not, you just existing and enjoying life brings a kind of stability and enjoyment to others. I think about this one time in high school chemistry class, where I was knitting (yes Chemistry, don't ask), and this one girl came up to me afterwards and said something along the lines of "I was feeling a lot of anxiety in class, and then I saw you knitting, and I went 'okay, [she]'s knitting, it's going to be okay'". I still to this day don't really know why that was, but it did tell me a thing: people around you, especially those who seek you out, follow you on social media, ask you out just to hang, they like having you around. And to these people, you existing as you are, including taking a step back when you need it, you are valuable as you are

[vaspider]

Hi spider,

While it's your right to post whatever the fuck you want on your blog, I thought you might want to hear why I'm in following (if not, just stop reading here, and thanks for all the fish).

I really like your blog, your posts and your insightful commentary, but as a closeted genderqueer person who will probably very seldom step out of the closet, it is heartbreaking to read all these accounts of transphobia. God, I *know* it's real, I face it every day, it is the only reason why I am still in the closet. At the same time, I feel like crying my eyes out for each and every of these people who had to endure unspeakable abuse.

I don't know what point you're trying to make or why you are so concerned with other people denying the existence of transphobia towards trans men, but I have to save myself from the pit of despair these posts throw me into.

I wish you health and happiness, and thanks for sharing your blog with me in the past years<3

Hi,

I actually don't want to hear it.

Please don't tell me that you're unfollowing or why. I don't care. I can't care. I physically do not have the ability to take on board the opinions of tens of thousands of people, and it wouldn't be healthy for me to do so.

If this affects you to this degree and you want to engage with the online trans community, however, you might want to engage in some active curation for your own safety. It's very easy to filter posts by trigger words - Tumblr allows you to filter words in posts and tags - so if you don't want to see posts about the transphobia that transmascs face, why, you can just add "rape," "murder," "medical misgendering," "transphobia," "terf," or any other words or phrases you like to your filters and those posts will be safely hidden away where you don't have to deal with them. Neat and tidy.

I'll continue to post about what I and other transmascs face both within the community and outside of it. If you want to opt out of hearing about it because it makes you just too sad, well... that must be nice?

But it's kinda fucking weird to tell someone facing a problem that hearing about the problems they're dealing with is just too hard on you.

Do what you have to do for yourself. I'll do the same.

Don't contact me again.

[plethomacademia]

Ok welcome new followers, I've been on a hellish fertility journey since last year when I had two repeat miscarriages within three months. I just had an egg retrieval cycle with IVF so this is an update post with those results. I have a tag you can mute if you don't want to see this, but I have one blog and this process almost destroyed me (I was suicidal for a while, had to take mental health leave, etc), so yeah no pressure feel free to unfollow etc etc I have no idea how many followers I have anyway.

So, I have good news so I'm going to share that after the jump

I got a call from my clinic that all six of my embryos came back as genetically normal, which just means they have the correct number of chromosomes. We will never know if my miscarriages were due to this because we didn't test the remains, but miscarriages at the time I had them and at my age are usually due to issues like this. So yeah, I have enough embryos that I can move to the next step, since you want around three embryos per desired living child, since the process is not guaranteed.

I really wasn't expecting this. This is an incredibly lucky result and my whole journey for trying to have children, from almost getting divorced when my partner wouldn't commit, to couples counseling and waiting four years to start trying, to my thyroid disorder finally becoming a problem, etc etc, it's all been very unlucky. I only found out about an hour ago and I'm still processing that this might finally be it, I might finally get to move forward with this dream I have had for so so long.

I'll probably get quieter about all this, because now it's going to be just trying to get one of these to stick and that's a slower process and honestly, my anxiety is so much less after my leave that I don't really need to vent here as much but yeah! Maybe I get to be a mom someday. We'll see!

[savingthrcw]

this is going to be a blog-wide announcement, my blogs being smiletimeisrunningout, savingthrcw, re-generatedanomaly, faetorvic and lcdybonbon

I'm going to be on a TEMPORARY semi-hiatus until my life becomes slightly less chaotic, aka I get a proper job, because I'm physically unable to write (too sick to have the energy to do it after studying and making icon commissions, and too poor to prioritize rp over those two things, I so need money especially now that winter is truly here and I need to buy heating pads etc).

I am still VERY inspired and haven't lost the wish to plot and roleplay, I miss you all and my blogs (like you have no idea, rp has been my primary and, at times, only, hobby for 12 years, I'm dying to be able to sit and write), which is why I'm saying semi hiatus and not hiatus: this way I can pop in and write a reply or two whenever I can physically do so, without feeling I must either respond to all drafts or not write at all. You are all still more than welcomed to send me memes and things, it will probably be easier to write new things than to go back to an old draft when I only have five minutes, but I do want to keep drafts, hell, I still want to plot with new followers and write starters! I just don't have the time/strength.

I'm going to tag people I see in my thread tracker and askbox but this goes for EVERYONE: I don't want to drop threads, but you are allowed to ignore my replies because it's been too long and don't feel guilty if you want to unfollow me for being too slow! Thank you for your patience, especially if you read up until here!

@honorhearted @galefcrce @x-hollywoodghoul-x @storyofwhoiam

@writtenxbeginnings @nomdepen @atomiqueen @drunkonpotential

@spcdesace @trcstme @yearnstarved @wandercr @avernusfuries

@ordinariums @3katanas @nctafraid @tcnderhearts @livedtough

@radiaking @inmiasma @wintersxkiss @voiceinterface

@doorinthepage @respectablebaggins

[hotnsweetnprimrose]

Who am I? Well,

I'm part boy part girl, boygirl, the protector and mayor of transgenders! Well. Not that last one, that's not an official position nor would I claim it in a non-joking manner. I'm just a silly t4t slut :P

If you see this blog in sfw areas or engaging with sfw blogs, I’m just there to shitpost and I cannot be bothered to do a main blog switch thing lmao. But if it makes you uncomfortable, that’s okay too! Feel free to block. I will also probably reblog sfw memes and such too. A laugh is a powerful thing.

Last Updated: Jun 9 2025 - had a birthday

My name is Prim or Eden (switch 'em up when it's been a while). I'm 23, I am trans, non-binary, and bigender (androgyne flavor), and I'm here to fuck and get fucked, at least in what ways are possible over the internet. I'm interested in all genders, but have far more fondness in my heart for my fellow trans folk. :P (I’m on the aroace spectrum but absolutely sex-favorable. It’s fun)

I'm a switch and vers in many things! I am 5'1" and a tad fragile. However due to mental health stuff, domming requires a Lot of trust in advance. I’m more likely to sub simply because it’s less stressful for me at this point.

My pronouns are fae/faer, they/them, and she/he (alternating). If you’re ever in doubt for what to call me, just slam both binary gendered words together until it sounds not terrible. Examples include guygal, boygirl, princessprince, etc.

I might use it/its for myself while in subspace being a toy, don’t change any of your language in response unless I ask or you get permission, please!

I strongly believe in trans joy and t4t joy. Transmasc transfem transneutral trans [fill in the blank] we are all so hot and cool. <3 It brings me joy to lend aid whenever and wherever I can. This blog is focused on trans 4 trans first and foremost. Cis people are an afterthought, almost always.

Send me asks if you want! DMs even! I love meeting people! Don't be shy! Unless you're cis, then I have high standards so yes do be shy. And if you’re cis and heterosexual? …. Sorry, if you’re attracted to me, you absolutely cannot be both of those things! I have a discord available after I get dm'd because tumblr dms my behated.

Please don't interact if you're a minor or don't have your age in your bio. I will block you. Immediately. Be patient and you'll have a chance to explore when it doesn't endanger yourself or others.

More stuff under the readmore including limits, kinks, and other tidbits.

I also just block and unfollow liberally if you aren't firmly on the side of t4t solidarity and mutual support. We're all having a hard time out here. (I also will not hesitate break mutuals if you post content that damages my mental health that I can't filter for. This is my safe haven.) - if you support calling anyone theyfab without that being a thing they said they’re okay with I’m sorry but you’re getting fully blocked on here. I have moral OCD traits that are bad enough without me feeling like my very identity is fake to people I thought could be trusted. Thanks!

Top Surgery (No Nips!!!! Wahoo!!): 10/16/2024

Anatomical Terms:

clit, tdick, tcock, cunt, pussy = GOOD!

boygirl + any term that's deemed good already= GREAT!!

hole = fine. a bit boring

vagina = BAD! too technical

If I'm dominant in your scenario, call me mastress, mixtress, or captain. Sir is on the table for those who earn it. If I'm submissive in your scenario, call me toy, pet, diminuitive names, or kitten.

Let me know if you need anything tagged!

Due to me being bigender (androgyne edition), I try not to reblog posts with "men dni" or "women dni" on them as I feel like that's denying part of my identity. Also out of principle so maybe people will be less broad with those kinds of statements OR remember multigender folks like myself exist. Please don't binarize me, that sucks.

I call the rp/kink fiction/pretend element "kayfabe" because wrestling is y'know. somewhat analogous to kink in some ways!

I have a lot of posts I still have to queue and tag alas.

Not Planning on Going On Longtime Systemic T Please Don't Act Like I Am [I use tcock and tdick with the t meaning trans or t4t, not testosterone <3]

List time!!!!

g = giving, r = receiving

BIG YESES!!

body worship [g+r]

praise [g+r]

tentacles & monsters [...g+r] (used to be this blog's main theme, but I'm revamping! might still post/rb it though)

bondage & restraint & shibari [g+r]

hypnosis [g+r]

bimbofication & dumbification genre [g+r]

creampies [r+g but that requires a strap and/or imagination] - I hate this word I need a new word!! The stuff with breeding is good but pregnancy is such a no go for me…. 🤔

overstim [g+r]

edging [g+r]

Objectification in the sense of being a toy, a tool, something with a function that does a job [r, unsure about g]

petplay [g+r I am a kitten thank you not a puppy sadly]

gentle gender affirming genderplay/forcemasc/forcefem!!!!!! [g+r]

size kink [I'm so damn short I gotta sexualize it]

DEFINITELY MORE I DON'T REMEMBER OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD

CONTEXT DEPENDENT (not always a big yes but the version eithout context is a no)

anal [giving ONLY, and only with gloves or a strap. I do not stuff in my ass or touching that hole]

intox [giving/domming ONLY]

Consensual non-consent but ONLY if it's clearly established as such with the post/fiction (I know I'm rare in that I find the prep and negotiation hot but hey, I love communication and trust!)

Painplay [giving/domming ONLY]

Breathplay [giving/domming ONLY] (picky about this one because safety but also I got asthma so I need to breathe normally)

NOS!!!!

Any kind of pregnancy or pregnancy focused kink

Any sort of inflation (cumflation is case by case)

Breeding with the INTENT of pregnancy (see creampies above, I do love the raw sex and being cum in but pregnancy still makes me dysphoric)

Nipple/breast focused content and/or kink (don't have those anymore and they gave me dysphoria) [except if you want to do like. breast theft. then we can talk about it but I'm super picky it's basically a no] {okay I’m cool doing it for others tits but not Mine}

Detrans kink and misgendering kink (I respect you but not my thing and usually makes me dysphoric. More power to ya though!)

Kinks involving urine, scat [shit], or filth [literal] in any large capacity

Consensual Non-Consent when it's in-universe just non-con

I respect y’all but no f4uxc3st and please tag it!!!! I have it blocked because my brain goes “you want ocd symptoms abt this? Okay!” I don’t even have full ocd just traits n trauma 😔

Nudes. Not without my express and enthusiastic agreement (rare). I might send but I do not like to receive.

[all of this is subject to changes and updates when I remember things not listed here or I learn more about my tastes!]

Tags:

#Prim Speaks = non-horny posts/writing/updates (that's what this is tagged as)

#Prim Whimpers = horny writing (submissive focus)

#Prim Smirks = horny writing (dominant focus)

#Prim Moans = horny writing (generally)

#Prim Reveals = if I ever do post suggestive pics this is the tag for that. we'll see how I feel.

#it's the little things you queue together = queued posts, if you know what song and musical that's from, kiss me on the mouth.

There are two sideblogs off this blog but they’re both secret. Thank you <3

[akechi-stole-my-heart]

Because of this stupid unnecessary remake I’m gonna have to mute Kanji and Naoto’s names again. Though, I’m probably gonna end up muting all of P4 in general.

I seriously cannot take it with the vast majority of the fandom’s casual queerphobia over Kanji and Naoto and pretending like WE’RE the illiterate ones for actually seeing the queer themes in their stories and how Atlus just shits all over it because “aReN’t QuEeR pEoPlE gRoSs?!” is their entire thing.

It’s just exhausting, and unfortunately, P4 is a game I just cannot like due to its own shit, and the fandom that constantly glazes it.

You are so real for that. I can't stand it either, in my experience Tumblr is a little better but even here I've gotten people on my more popular posts saying I'm stupid for calling them queer, it sucks. Media literacy goes to die at Persona 4 for real. I could write a whole meta about that alone...

I wish I could like Persona 4, and I do genuinely love the anime because it doesn't have the time to walk back on their arcs or include all the worst moments. (Also, some of the worst moments were added to Golden, so you don't have to deal with those unless you watch the mid Golden anime.) I like the hypothetical Persona 4 in my brain. But I don't enjoy the game as it is, and I've never felt the desire to replay it, unlike p5 and p3.

We'll see if it gets bad enough for me to block any tags, I dunno if I will yet. I actually have already unfollowed the persona 4 tag just bc the hype for a stupid bad game I don't want annoyed me too much lmao. (I'm still following plenty of other p4-related tags tho.) Part of me wants to believe that the discourse might be better in the year of our lord 2025 (or whenever this game supposedly is releasing, wouldn't be surprised if it's years from now tbh) but with this current political climate...welllll....... :/

[damnedpeace]

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧…

Indie JOHN MARSTON from RED DEAD REDEMPTION 1 & 2 . Source content and headcanon based. Non-selective and open to AU, OC, and crossovers. Discord given to mutuals only. Personals do not interact.  Rules under readmore. ( side blogs X. X. )

First of all, thank you for visiting this page.  Even if you only skim this, I’ll love you forever.  Most of these rules are pretty basic, common sense stuff, but I would really appreciate it if you read them.  I know it’s long, but I’m just trying to make sure no one is offended or uncomfortable.  I’ll try to make this as painless as possible.  Bear with me.  I’ll try to bold the basics.

            — the basics.

I have a few verses to choose from, and I’ll probably place you in the one that will most easily fit with your character’s canon unless otherwise specified.

John isn’t always the most pleasant person. Please know that anything mean said is not a reflection of the mun’s feelings.  IC =/= OOC.

Don’t god-mod.

OC and Au friendly, but please have an about page so I can gauge whether our characters will be able to interact.

Memes and opens are free game – anyone can send one or respond to one.  However, I may not respond for some reason or another: it may be in violation of one of my other rules, or due to external factors.  If you’re worried that I missed something, feel free to come to me about it, but please don’t constantly badger me for replies.  It’s rude.

I reserve the right to refuse to roleplay, especially if I’m uncomfortable.

DO NOT under any circumstances try to bring me into out of character drama.  If you have a problem with me, contact me privately or just unfollow.  Vague blogging, callout posts and the like are annoying, and I ask that you would tag them.  This is something I will unfollow over if I so please.

            — on selectivity. 

I will be selective with my threads and who I interact with.  I would love to interact with everyone, but I’m very busy with school and other blogs, and I don’t want to overload myself.  If this bothers you, feel free to unfollow.  If you have any questions about whether I have time, feel free to jump into my ask.

Also, I am far more likely to RP with mutuals. That’s not to say I won’t RP with those I don’t follow or those who won’t follow me, there may be exceptions. But it is far more likely.  That being said: if I follow you, I want to write with you.  Probably a lot. I’m just too shy to say anything because I’m a weenie pissbaby.

Starter calls, unless otherwise specified, are for mutuals only.

            — on content.

I’m 20+, so mature content is cool with me.   NSFW and triggering content will be present on this blog, but it will also be tagged in the following manner: n.s.f.w., tw:

As for smut: first of all, I will not smut with anyone under the age of 18.  Don’t ask me to; the answer will be no.  And just in general, don’t come to me looking for smut.  I’m not terribly good at writing it, so it’s very unlikely that it will occur on this blog.  I need to be pretty comfortable with someone to smut with them.  If by some miracle a thread is looking like it’s going to get smutty, feel free to hop into my ask and talk to me about it.  We’ll figure something out.

In relation to that, please do not send me overtly sexual memes if we have not interacted.  Kissing memes are fine, but I tend to get uncomfortable with anything beyond that.  Please respect this.

            — on replies.

I’m an adaptive roleplayer, meaning I’ll likely respond in a manner similar to yours.  If you format, I’ll format.  If you don’t, I won’t.  That sort of thing.  I also try to match length with my replies, but some days I struggle.  If you’re ever unhappy with the quality or length of a reply, please let me know and I’ll do my best to fix it.

I don’t always get to things right away.  I’m notorious for avoiding drafts, and especially right now, I’m pretty busy with schoolwork.  However, sometimes I’ll reply at the speed of light.  It’s really varied, and I’m sorry about that.

Sometimes, I’ll drop things that’ve been in my drafts for too long, or things that I feel aren’t going anywhere.  If you think I’ve dropped/missed/lost something that you wish to continue, come to me politely and we can talk about it.

            — on shipping.

I’m admittedly kind of a ship-whore.  If there are sparks, I likely ship it.  I ship John/Chemistry, but again, it’s rather unlikely that John will engage in a sexual or even a romantic relationship.  Them’s the breaks.  BroTPs are great though.  Also, I’m only human: I sometimes play favorites with my ships.  Sorry.

Please please please DO NOT force a ship on me.  It makes me extremely uncomfortable, and I will not hesitate to unfollow or even block you.  I will try to politely let you know if I feel that our characters do/do not have chemistry.

            — on credit.

Most icons, art and edits are made by myself, and are usually tagged as #my art or #my edits. Otherwise, I do not own anything!

          — on the mun.

My name is Élise, living in Midwest America, EST.  Feel free to contact me via ask at any time. I love talking to you guys! Discord is available to mutuals upon request – again, I reserve the right to refuse to give these for whatever reason.  I have no triggers, so as long as you talk to me prior to introducing something triggering to a thread, I’ll be cool with it. Just talk to me about it beforehand and I should be fine, but if I’m not feeling it, please respect that.

That’s about it.  Thanks so much for reading these.  Smooches! <3

[garbagechocolate]

I mean, this is the internet, the straight characters are going to be drawn and written having gay relationships, the AroAce characters are going to do the same by giving them a very active romantic life, and none of that should matter because this is content MADE by fans, It's not Canon. I think we would all be more at peace if those who enjoy making content about Moon having a partner didn't impose the idea on others or try to justify it. Suffice it to say that this is an AU. Do not waste time or effort trying to convince others that the idea is better than the original, will not succeed.

LIKEWISE, it is just as important that those who DO NOT like couples content simply IGNORE or block the blogs that produce it. Because going to artists' or writers' publications just to make them feel bad because they like a ship is not cool.

This is internet dude, if you're sad because there isn't enough material of Moon being an AroAce, do it yourselves. Defend the canon you like by making content and not crying bothering those who make contrary content

(Waddles in) I was just explaining why I don't like solarmoon. It's not a very big deal. But also, excusing everything with "but it's the internet" is stupid. Added on, the Aspec community has every right to be upset about people shipping moon for the sake of shipping moon. If a character was confirmed to be YOHR sexuality, but people around you disregarded it or used the excuse that it's a spectrum to ship how THEY want to, it's just. Bad. Like you COULD ship them, but if you're going to do that while keeping that they're aroace I'd expect you to handle it while acknowledging that at many times, aro people just don't fall head over heels in love. If anything it takes time. Or sometimes we do, but the feeling dies off when it's reciprocated. The problem comes with the fact that they do not acknowledge it at all and that they ignore it.

Also. I'm not crying or whining about it. I never EVER liked Solarmoon but I've never made much of a big deal out of it. The most was making a post on Twitter saying if you ship solarmoon I'll probably be unfollowing? I understand that shipping discourse between these two robots is so, so weird, but it doesn't change the fact that I personally feel very uncomfortable around it because it seems like incest to me.

I already have the Solarmoon tag blocked and I was explaining to the other anon why I don't like the ship. That's all <3 I also have. Thoughts. About the first thing you said and characters being hc different sexualities but that's a topic for another day.

[lurafita]

Ngl, it's kinda a bummer that you often repost older posts. Because I get excited when I see you posted something, and then it's something I have already read. You know you don't necessarily get more likes this way, right?

I'm sorry you feel that way, but I'm not gonna change that.

You didn't specify, but I'm guessing you are referring to my Malec posts? And as you probably know, there are a lot of those.

And sometimes I simply might not remember that I have already posted some headcanon or prompt. Or I really want to post something about my favs, but can't for the life of me come up with something new. Other times I think that people that have newly followed me might not want to scroll all the way through my archive to read all the previous posts, and I want to share my own favorites with them as well. I actually don't care too much about the kudos. Don't get me wrong, it does make me smile to see that others like my random ramblings about my favorite Blorbo and ship; but what I really love is when others add their own little tidbits to it. Like comments, or reblogs that have some extra tags. I adore to talk the headcanons and prompts with others. Brainstorm about things that could be done, or fill holes when there is a logical flaw in them. I find it invigorating to have some kind of exchange with the people who read my posts.

And if, reposting an older post, leads to such, I don't regret it. There is always a possibility that someone hadn't seen a post before, because they had simply not been on tumblr when I posted, or hadn't followed me then, or even hadn't really been a fan or searched for posts like that.

So I reblog older posts, and I will keep doing it occasionally.

If that is something you greatly dislike, I'm sorry, but I won't change that. And you are free to unfollow or block me if that is what you need to do in order to have your best fandom experience.

Thank you for reaching out and making yourself heard. Please remember to stay hydrated, and have a very nice day. :-)