#idk even how to tag this cuz I'm so not normal right now like??

[corvoblinks]

Ok who would win in a villain fight. Joker Batman or Silco Arcane?

(This is definitely not your roommate sending you an anonymous ask on tumblr dot com, do not be fooled,. My full legal name is Sir Jönblathãn the Unknowing, III, Esquire. If i were truly your roommate sending you an anonymous ask on tumblr dot com, I would have supplied you with a different name, such as Ocean or Creek or perhaps Pond. This, I decree, is 100% irrefutable proof)

Greetings Sir Jönblathãn the Unknowing, III, Esquire! The question you pose is fascinating, as I truly believe there is no one correct answer. There are a lot of factors at play here -- prep time, setting, support, etc. I think because silco is big dead, that typically does not play into one's favor. I think 7 out of 10 times, Joker wins because cartoon immunity (IF we are assuming btas/dcau joker).

[wystiix]

talk to me, please

❥ pairing: venti x gn!reader ❥ synopsis: Venti anxiously waits for a text from you to the point where he overthinks and nearly spirals into madness—will you please just fucking reply already? ❥ cw: crack, attempt at humour (kms), fluff maybe?? not proof-read so some stuff may not make sense lmao ❥ additional tags: lowkey kinda revolves around texting, venti's perspective, no pronouns for reader, modern setting, venti is a humanities major cuz i said so, does this count as socmed??? idk someone tell me i need to sleep it's 2am ❥ word count: 955 ❥ notes: bonjour hi hello kumusta. my foot is fucking asleep and my leg feels numb and my back hurts and i'm tired an it's 2am i have school i need to stop. okay so for context i was texting this girl and she wasn't replying so i went crazy, and then i thought "wait i could write a fic about this" and here we are. it was actually kinda fun writing this HAHAHAHAHA but i had to rush it cuz i have other stuff to do so uh it may be a bit quick. (see end notes after reading cuz i said so /j)

The clock ticked. It had been three hours. Venti stared at his phone, impatiently waiting for you just please, please, please reply.

Try to distract yourself, one may say, and mark these fucking words, he did.

He tried everything. From listening to music to doing the dishes, to cleaning his room. Oh, but that was not all.

For the past few hours, he reorganised his notes, desk and playlist, walked at least twenty laps around his dorm, ate all his snacks from the pantry like a fatass, cleaned up his closet and planned what he was going to wear a week from now, learned a new song on his guitar and even counted every single one of his ceiling and wall tiles.

There were exactly 146 tiles in his dorm. That number now forever haunts him.

Practically exhausted from being way too productive than he usually was, he slumped down on his bed and opened the app he used to text you. There was still no reply.

Venti buried his face into his pillow, letting out a groan of frustration.

It was incredibly frustrating and it nearly drove him crazy. Were you seriously that busy? Normally you would respond within a span of seconds, a few to thirty minutes at the latest. But fucking three hours?

He couldn’t let this opportunity slip away. You both had been talking for over a week—he couldn’t afford to mess this up. 

But what if you suddenly lost interest? Oh, it felt far too early for that. Was he finally going to have that Mitski experience? Was he going to be those depressed poets who poured their hearts out through their ink on the paper when a single minor inconvenience happened to them? 

You were killing him. And it was not softly. Venti felt as if his heart was shattering into a million pieces.

Was this his destiny, his punishment for choosing to pursue such a depressing major in humanities?

How cruel the universe is.

He sighed in defeat, opening his notes app to write and exude a poetic, Shakespearean ballad about this before his phone suddenly buzzed.

Ding! You have received a new message from [Name]!

Holy shit has his fingers never moved so quickly before in his entire life, clicking on the notification faster than he could blink. Your sudden message almost gave him a heart attack, for fuck’s sake.

So much for living and breathing Shakespeare.

Oh, how his heart fluttered. A simple message, yet it had him forget about his lament just a few seconds prior and he found himself swooning, practically glazing your message as if it was the most fascinating piece of literature he had ever laid eyes on.

Venti paused, rereading your message 25 million times, unsure how to reply. Should he respond right away, or would that be too eager? He didn’t want to come off as desperate, but three hours of waiting had been excruciating. Perhaps he should wait a minute or two… No, that would be too long!

God he wanted to punch himself in the face for clicking that notification too fast, now he has to think of a response on the spot or else he’d look like an asshole.

He started to type out a response.

k, i see.

He paused, immediately deleting the message with a shake of his head. Too dry, he has to sound interested. I understand! Would you like to shift the conversation to a less taxing topic? Delete. Too formal. LMAOOO dw dw, what was it about anyway? Delete. ahh hope the essay didn’t stress u out too much!! Delete. i’m madly in love with u Delete. Had he sent that he would find the nearest cliff and leap off.

Venti sighed, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. Why was this so complicated? He wanted to sound interested, but not desperate; casual, but not indifferent. He ended up typing something simple and hitting send before he could second-guess himself again. Sometimes, being simple is the ultimate sophistication.

He fought the urge to chuck his phone across the room. Shit, was that too casual? How long were you going to reply this time?

There were immediate blinking dots.

The tension in his chest eased as he found himself giggling at your comment. He realised the way he was acting earlier was ridiculous, maybe this wasn’t so bad.

Venti felt the weight lift off his shoulders. The conversation was back on track, and he could breathe easy again. Just as he was about to put down his phone, the blinking dots appeared again, and he immediately reverted his attention back to it.

Another message.

What.

What the fuck. Was this real?

He put his phone face down, allowing everything to sink in.

What the fuck. Coffee? Tomorrow? With you? Did you just ask him out? Was this real? Was he real? Were you real?

The anxiety that lingered within slowly ebbed away as he stared at the ceiling tiles—the same tiles that haunted him earlier. However, they now seemed oddly comforting.

“Holy shit.”

Gods above, was this a blessing? Maybe his love life wasn’t so hopeless after all.

Venti’s gaze drifted to his closet, where he noticed that same outfit he intended to wear a week from now. A cozy, soft-beige sweater with a hint of cream peeked out from behind a row of neatly hung clothes, gently draping over a pair of charcoal chinos.

He grinned like an idiot, giggling and kicking his feet like a little child who just received their favourite toy. A string of “oh my god, oh my god” repeated endlessly in his head like a loop.

And for once, the silence didn’t feel so heavy.

❥ notes: hi so yes. yes i did what he did here. yes i counted my tiles, but it was my bathroom tiles instead. there are like 121 tiles in the bathroom, including the hidden ones. in this fic i just added the average number of tiles to that number which was like 25 tiles??? lowkey idk i just estimated. and yes i did plan my outfit a week from now, which is for church. yes i cleaned my room. yes i walked more than ten laps around my living room. i was restless. yes i was productive as hell. lmfao by the time i was done with the fic she replied to me so yay!! win!! also pls get the "you were killing him and it's not softly" reference i hope someone at least gets it or else i'm gonna cry myself to sleep. yeah anyways im gonna sleep gn <3

[cyrusthedragon]

Gentleman

Teen And Up Audience

Let's talk about Simon Riley being a gentleman for you but not the way we usually think about gentlemen.

Relationship: Simon "Ghost" Riley / f!Reader

Tags: domestic fluff, no "Ghost", established relationship, married couple, playful bullying, newborn children, Simon Riley being BIG and SOFT (and bullied), husband material

Please, comment if you liked it, it means a lot to me!

Notes:

Reader is from a rich family, but still joined the military

Reader and Simon serve(d) together

Simon Riley without his mask

AO3

Stand up so you can sit down; take off your outer clothes; pull up a chair for you; kiss the back of your hand; do not raise voice at you; if you walk on the sidewalk, then stand by the road; make sure you feel comfortable when you go out; if you bend over to pick up something under the table, then cover the corner of the table with his hand; lay his head on your shoulder just because; make two cups of tea anyway; try to say when he feels uncomfortable (not just swallow it cuz he don't wanna bother you! mister it's-not-that-deep); talk with you when something is wrong; when you look good — say out loud that you look good; ask if you need some help and actually help you, massage your tired feet.

Yeah, he doesn't really know about the etiquette and other stuff, but he knows exactly how to cherish you, trying so hard to give you that normal life he knows you deserve, even though he's so dumb that he didn't really understand you do not need 'normal life', you're as battle-scarred as he is, you just need life with him. Civilian or not, you don't give a damn about it, maybe he didn't know how to use that god-awful melon spoon, but it's okay as long as he is happy, cuz the melon spoon never was so necessary. You just love watching him, so clumsy with small and delicate things, that you can't help but just stay silent and admire how he's trying to deal with that nappy for your tiny little newborn baby daughter, who literally can completely fit in two his palms.

He was big compared to normal guy, was huge compared to you, and now he's damn giant compared to your daughter.

"Fatherhood suits you," you said, looking at him from the threshold, and laughed when he literally shuddered. The man on purpose lowered his guard down, 'cause he felt himself safe with you. Both of you, now.

"The hell are you tolkin' about... Help me instead, I can't understand how this shit works.." grumpy, messy, baby powder on his cheek, brows furrowed. If Johnny saw him right now, he'd definitely shit his pants from how scary Simon looked at that poor nappy, like it, idk, killed his beloved puppy. But as how scary it was for everyone esle, as much it was funny for you; you couldn't resist your laugh coming out, trying to hide your face with your palm, when he looked at you as severely as physically possible.

And blushed.

"Shut up."

You smiled at him widely, coming closer: "I said nothing, baby." but that wasn't true. Technically, that wasn't a lie, too. You said a lot of things, but not with words. "You can't handle one diaper?"

"I didn't say I can't handle it, dammit," he groaned, focussing on swaddling the baby who couldn't stop giggling and twitching from side to side; you rested your elbow on his shoulder, and he theatrically sighed, looking at his daughter: "Rocket fuel in your veins..." and, stooping to kiss her on her belly, added: "Just like your mother."

"I don't get it, are you bullying her?" before he realized it, you pucked girl up. She giggled, sucking on her own petit fingers, moving her legs. "You're bullying my daughter, Simon?"

"Oh goodness, love..." he clicked, you cackled, holding baby closer and moving two steps away from him, "you wanna start a fight now?"

"I don't", but considering how you smiled and looked at your daughter's very pleased reaction, you obviously wanted this: "Do you?"

"I don't," he answered, "but if you're going to continue whatever you're doing, I'm-"

"You what?" and you moved the child in your arms accompanied by her contented laughter, so Simon could see it:

You sly thing.

He can't do with you anything when you're holding the baby.

"What, you swallowed your tongue, darling?" your footsteps were coming closer to the living room, and he followed at your heels, looking almost the same as on the military, about to scold one of his soldiers. "Love..." almost growled, making the baby laugh harder, clapping; the fluff on her head swayed when you moved left and right, skirting the furniture: "Love?" you repeated after him, looking directly into his eyes without a single blink, "Now I'm love?"

"You always were my love..."

"No, five seconds ago you were threatening me!" you smiled, moving your gaze to your daughter. "He was threatening your mama, sunshine, look at him!"

"No-o!" Simon exclaimed, holding out his hands to the little one, "Princess, don't listen to her! She's lying! She was bullying me!"

"Bullying you? How can I bully you? I'm a victim here!"

"You're not!"

"Of course I am, princess saw how you were telling me you're going to do something!-" laughter, quick steps, radio talking in the kitchen, child's giggle, Simon's sighs, and two grown-ass adults argument in which each of you tried to convince a three-month-old child which of you is really a victim.

Was that the life you were expecting from joining the military?

No.

That was the life that Simon Riley gave you without your request. He just was there, silently, very bad at any good feelings, not knowing what exactly to say or how to act in some situations, learning from you by just watching how you talked with everyone, and simply remembering small things. From small things about how to interact with people, who are not broken as fu-. Ahem. To small things about you, and one day he understood — you became his healing pill. Somehow, by doing literally nothing, only existing in the same universe as him, winking to him, talking to him — actually talking, not just having some nonsense chat about the weather or your job, but discussing with him, asking about his opinion, you became a person who was so damn comfortable to him, that he couldn't deny how he's attached to you anymore.

This man appeared in your life like a silent company, then your partner on missions, then your partner for life, then your husband, and then the father of your child.

And now you were testing his limits, 'cause you wanted so.

This girl in your hands — she was the third most precious woman in his life, after his mother and you, and you knew exactly what you were doing by teasing him, not letting him go closer to you, or take her from your hands.

"What? What? Wanna say you're not bullying me? Princess, look-"

"No, princess, don't. Look at your daddy, daddy loves you, daddy would never bully your mommy."

"Liar!"

And then once again: he sighs, you giggle, baby girl made her baby sound, and the three of you were whirled around the house, from room to room, until finally, he cornered you. Literally. You pressed yourself into the corner of the bedroom with your whole body, never stop smiling, but knowing for sure that this man would not leave it so easily. You blinked, he towered over you like a mountain, put his hand on the wall and you automatically bit your lower lip, chuckling: "Are we like... In some kind of third-rate young adult drama?"

"Give her to me. Now."

A hoarse, hot, deep voice sounded right in front of you. His blue eyes into yours, and you had to tilt your head to keep eye contact, but it was completely worth it.

"Or what?" you whispered; the little one's eye's shifted from you to her father, from him to you again, Simon leaned over to you, and before this whole situation started to get too spicy, you quickly gave him the child and came out from under his quite skillful confident kabe-don. Ah, but you remember times when he was too shy to kiss you... "You can have her," you said, looking innocent, watching him trying to handle girl as delicate as possible, hissing at your actions as if scolding because you simply cannot treat such tiny, fragile creatures like that.

You can break her!

He.

Scolding you.

For not being gentle.

He.

Holding her so, so gently, carefully, holding her head straight, because she didn't know how to do it yet, frowning at you, you, an irresponsible woman!

This behemoth of a man with such a little girl in his hands.

"She's already daddy's girl, isn't she?" You murmured. Simon put her on the changing pad, you followed him. "Try again," you said, when he took the open diaper.

He sucked air deep into his lungs and began to swaddle this little giggly monster.

Action after action, extreme care, total concentration, as if he was defusing a bomb, unblinking stare until the last details, and only when girl was laying there, completely swaddled, with a pacifier in her mouth, he exhaled, closing his eyes.

"Holy f-..."

"Good job! It was that hard, baby?" You chuckled, stroking his back, when he turned to you, hugging your waist softly. "No," he whispered, breathing in your scent, mixed with perfume and the smell of a hair conditioner, "I was trying not to hurt her. She's so tiny..."

Oh, that man drove you crazy.

The level of happiness in your blood exceeded all permissible norms, you pressed into him, cheek on his cheek for a second, and kissed his cheekbone, smiling like a fool.

Or it was just him?

Big protective fool, so scared to hurt his little daughter...

You love him like this: in your arms, mumbling about how afraid he is that one day he'll do something to her, due to miscalculated strength. You weren't afraid. You knew he simply won't let it happen.

"You wouldn't." You answered, gently running your fingers through his short blonde hair, "Wanna know why?"

Simon looked into your eyes, moving away a little, so you could see him properly: "Why?"

You smiled: "Because she's our daughter," and before he let himself relax, you added, grinning nastily: "If you'll ever try to hurt her, she'll kick your ass, like it's a fucking football, darling."

Well.

Maybe... Just maybe... Maybe he wasn't a liar...

Maybe you truly enjoyed bullying him, so he can "get angry" and finally shut you up with the most delicious kiss in the world.

Simon's lips pressed to yours, your hands over his hot red cheeks, because someone's still too easy to tease, his hands around your waist, just to be sure you're not going anywhere, your eyes closed so you can remember every moment, every note of his taste. And the softness, but the conference of his movements.

Simon Riley was the best example of the word "self-control".

You never saw an another man with such power over himself that he can hold the most fragile teacup tightly and not break it.

And he was afraid?

He?

Oh, you were planning to live a life beside him and for once and for all make him see how amazing he really was.

Yes, he doesn't have some fancy private university diploma, maybe he's not a philosophy Ph.D., but, god forgive me, was he less incredible because of it? Not even a little.

He doesn't know about a melon spoon, he doesn't really like all these luxurious restaurants, he can tell nothing about Gucci house, then fuck it, fuck it all, fuck the etiquette, fuck high table manners, fuck meticulous elegance, prim ideality — the way Simon kissed you, keep you close, the way he looked at you with his eyes go wild, the way he was sucking your scent, burying his face in your neck, after holding your common child, as if both of you were priceless treasures from the depths of the sea.

Squeezing you, carefully touching her chubby pink cheek with a pad of his finger, and slowly, lightly kissing the back of your hand, pressing her close while rocking.

Yeah, he wasn't a gentleman.

He didn't have a fantastic talent for anything, couldn't distinguish Manet from Monet, and mathematics wasn't one of his strengths.

But he had his stubbornness, willpower, desire, and love for work.

Simon Riley was a hard-worker.

And that's exactly what you love in him.

"We should..." you swallowed, licking your lower lip after that disastrous kiss he gave you, "We should go on a date..."

"Why so?" just his hoarse voice made you snuggle into him, hugging his neck so tightly, as if you wanted to kill him with your own hands — that's how much you loved him. But you did nothing.

Just breathing heavily, feeling him lift you by your hips, seating you on the windowsill in your bedroom. "Because," you murmured, smacking him on the lips, "I want you to eat molecular crap in your only black suit, and grumble that this berry foam is not a real food."

And when you laughed, already hearing his old man's grumbling, his huge hands grabbed your waist again, squeezing tightly, as if purposely ignoring your mouth-watering sides.

You told Simon last morning that even though it's been three months since you gave birth, your pelvis still hurts sometimes —

Oh.

What a gentle man he was...

Haha.

[dimonds456]

.

i just wanna feel okay. i just wanna move on. i just wanna be able to go a fucking month without thinking about her. all her memory does is give me massive anxiety, and fear, and dread, and i never realize it's coming from her memory until something triggers it again.

i fucking hate this. i know i have ptsd. i have SOME form of it. idk of it's the normal one or c-ptsd or some secret third thing but i'm not exaggerating, and i'm not faking it, and i'm just so fucking tired of fighting it.

it's not even about her. last summer, i almost died. i straight-up barely made it through. and my illness has been affecting me since middle school. my first experience with seeing stars was caused by my thyroid fucking up. my heart rate has been over 200 several times. i don't know how i haven't had a fucking heart attack and keeled over yet.

it's bound to happen. but also not. we're not tied down by fate, there's no such thing. self-fulfilling prophecies yes, and butterfly's wings flap and suddenly you're on the run from the law, yes. but it's not fate, it's an intricate web of cause and effect to get you there.

what caused this in me?

no one fucking knows. i'm tired, and i'm queer, and i'm disabled, but able-passing, and i'm hurt, and traumatized, and guilty of so many things no other living soul knows about, and i'm struggling with religion again and hating myself for it, and i just want to feel okay.

i just want a day where i don't have graves. a day where i can run as fast as i want, and a day where i won't fall over for it, and a day where i can lay on my stomach and pick grass in a field where it's warm or even hot but i'm not uncomfortable, or i want to be able to play tag with my brother, or just go a single fucking day where nothing matters and i can just.... exist.

i want to be alive.

i can't see my future. i can't see where i'll be in ten years. i spent last summer wondering if i'd see 2023. i'm here, and i made it to my 20's (something i didn't think was possible when i was 14), so now, i just gotta get to my 30's, right? but... there's so much shit going on. where will i be at 30? is it even worth thinking about? surely, yes, since the future is important, but... i can't see it. i can't see it, and if i can, the only reliable thing i see is loneliness. i'm always alone, sitting on a couch, touch-starved, watching tv and not even drawing. my hand got fucked up somewhere along the way, cuz of course it was, and i can't do anything.

they say that dreams are a reflection of the subconscious. that whatever reality we don't want to face, it comes out in dreams. but if that's true, why does she keep haunting them? is she in my future?

i want to be alive. i am alive. alive, i tell you.

.....but for how long?

it feels like i'm waiting for a clock to count down, that the people who say that we only breathe a certain number of times in our lives are right and my limit's almost up. i'm going to fall asleep, and not wake up, and no one will even notice for a few days because i'm already a hermit who prefers staying inside because the sun makes me feel awful and even when i'm inside that's when i get eaten alive by just, everything.

i got this far in life by being positive. i can continue to do that. but, my positivity has also blinded me to the bad before, and pretty much every relationship i've ever had has turned sour in some way because i refused to acknowledge a person's faults or express when i was uncomfortable until i couldn't stand it anymore. i wanna lay boundaries, but not upset people. i wanna hold a friendship for more than two years without it rotting away like an old maple leaf downed in acid. i hate thinking about my past, but i also love talking about it because i always think that imparting my bad experiences will help people somehow, even if it hurts me to think about it, but i should think about it, otherwise it'll fester and come out later.

i need therapy, but i can't get it. i'm alone.

i'm alone in my head. i'm alone in this room. i'm alone in this city. i'm alone in my pain, and my struggles, and i'm alone in my life. i feel like i attract bad people and hurt the good ones. i can't maintain a good friendship unless it's online. i'm going to be all alone, by myself, with no one to really reach to when my body finally fails me and i'm left to thrash around by myself.

i need to go to bed.

[parkcivanon]

WORDS CANNOT DESCRIBE HOW HAPPY I AM RN AFTER READING UR SIMULATION FICOMG,,,,,,,,, Like !! After watching mc but it's a simulation, it has been my new hyperfixation alongside park civ but the thing is it doesn't have nearly as much content. God I wanted a fic so bad I literally scrolled through all 18 pages of park civ tag just to find a sim fic.... UNTIL I SAW UR FIC AND I WAS LIKE OMG A SIM FIC??!???? And I didn't even realize you were the park civ anon cuz I was in such a hurry to read and God it singlehandedly became my fav fic,,, like your writing style is so satisfying and the flow is AMAZING BUT my favorite part is definitely your characterization of simEvbo.... He's so angry but in such a evbo way I honestly think this is what he would have been if he had been more fleshed out in canon. The inner dialogue is great hehe I love him he's full of issues and desperately need therapy<3

Also normally im more of a evbo fan than a seavbo but the bit with simSeavbo's dynamic is *chef's kiss* you really scratched the itch I never knew I had in my brain here..

(in the interest of not having this post be unreadably long, the second ask as well as my response is under the 'read more'.)

ALSO ALSO,, I actually read most of your fics so after the simfic I decided to give the amongus au a go since I usually don't read smut but your writing is just so nice I needed more... I loved the setting and the characters esp clown pierce and AJ which is very unusual (I never rlly liked antagonists😭) but your characterization is by far my favorite. I never knew I needed a morally grey villain where they r evil but not in a flat evilevil way ykyk,.. AJ was honestly such a refreshing character since you def fleshed him out from canon! Same goes to clown pierce but he is def less evil and mysterious than in canon since I assumed he and the old man never has a fall out. Tbh I was actually expecting clown pierce to idk.. do something mischievously evil and villain worthy but instead he actually became quite nice?? And sweet?? Ok yea I definitely prefer your choice more now that I think about it

hellooo :). there are more sim fics? i couldn't find any others but i only gave the tags a cursory glance.

thank you! simulation evbo has quickly become one of my favourites because i am a wee bit of a sucker for the evil alternate self trope (as well as some good ol' religious theming...) he should go to therapy, but he'd probably end up giving the therapist a crisis.

i think on some level seavbo has a large impact on both parkour civilization evbo and simulation evbo, romantically or otherwise; seawatt is a significant character in both, to the point where it's difficult to begin to describe evbo without describing him in relation to seawatt (this is more of an issue with parkciv evbo.)

anyway, onto the next half of the ask; the among us au is honestly something i still think about. i think clownpierce's character in canon is heavily influenced by the severe isolation he experiences, and this is represented in the au by his reclusiveness at the start; evbo hardly manages to speak to him until nearly halfway through, i believe.

clown's character is extremely divergent and this is something i'm aware of: i was considering having him be worse, but having him as direct foreshadowing for seawatt's arc almost felt like divine inspiration, as well as having his grief and how he reacts to it be a parallel to evbo's; you'll notice both of them immediately isolate themselves, and both of them fall back on their work as escapism.

i wasn't expecting this response to be mostly about clownpierce, but: you'd be right in assuming they never fell out. their 'falling out' is moreso tied to the old man's literal 'falling out' from life. clownpierce is only an antagonist in the sense that he is intentionally a misleading character: having the main antagonist be one of 'the good guys' is a bit of a red herring, no? :)

aj's character was mostly extrapolation from seawatt's, and he exists as a direct foil to him for that reason. most of what he does is in direct opposition to what seawatt would do, and generally i've characterised him with that in mind. where seawatt would probably go out kicking and screaming he goes with a great deal of grace, and where he is needlessly cruel seawatt is gentle; though they share a good amount of traits too, the most notable probably being their sense of pride.

tl;dr: thank you for the compliments lol... sorry to use your ask as an excuse to talk about among us au's characters and how i decided to develop them in new context, but i'm not really. ty again! <3

[doesyourshipmakeyouabadperson]

hay, this is more me looking for advice, but how do i stop lying to my followers about being proship? there was one point where i drew fontcest (undretale), and i got an anti who harassed me in ask, and sent me a graphic description of their brother killing their hamster. ever since i've been very weary of saying anything, or confirming i ship something cuz i don't want to read something like that again. that, and in general, i don't ship things too hard/go all in with it, at least 1/?

2/? i don't think i do. granted, i draw a bunch of art and post it, but for me that's just general hyperfixation. i'm also ace, and while yes, most ships are romantic or sexual, mine tend to be platonic, or suggestive. and are not as clear cut as to if i ship the characters or not, because even for me, it's up in the air, and i don't know, i'm not good with knowing how i feel about things, i just express myself through art and hope it says all it needs to. i've come up with a sorta tagging

3/4 tagging system, with tags for platonic ships, joke ships, etc, but even then sometimes how i view the relationship changes. like right now, i'm drawing a child and adult character together, most of the time the dynamic i portray is paternal, but other times i want to make it romantic, either as a cope for my own truama, or just because it's been my brain rot for weeks and i want it out of my head to get back to the "clean stuff" and just not post for a while. idk, maybe this is

4/? is all overly complicated, and i've made a mess for myself, but i feel like at this point i've tricked ppl into following or liking my work. because ppl do like my work, and then they send ask like "your art's now tainted for me", but i've been this way since 2016, i've just been scared of getting disturbing irl hamster gore stories again. or i've been told "fuck you for normalizing this", "don't hc this character as a murder pedo", "this feels like grooming", "you know your audience"

5/5 like i don't, idk how old anyone is who follows me, idk if there's children looking at my content. and i can't just make a poll, or check the thousands of followers i have to see if they have their age in their bio, i can't fucking ask for an id before following, i just. idk, this was very long and ranty, i'm sorry, i just don't want to remake my blog again, maybe i'm just dumb and anxious, i don't know. srry this was long, hope you're doin ok (^.^)v

Hello, I delayed answering this for a while since, well, i'm definitely not usually the person people go to for advice so im not used to it lol ❤ /nm

Buuut i mean... I can see why youre upset. I dont think you should have to come out and say you're proship. Being an anti shouldn't be seen as the default. You should also be able to make whatever kind of content you want as long as you tag it properly. If your fanbase is making you feel like you can't, then that fanbase isn't your demographic.

There are actually a lot of decent people out here who are pro ship, and if you choose to be openly pro ship, yes you will get some hate mail, death threats, suibait etc and lose followers, but you will also gain a lot of fans who want to see your interesting takes on different interpersonal dynamics. (Also, the former group weren't really your fans in the first place if they'll be so godawful to you over some pixels on a screen)

And yes it is impossible to police thousands of followers and that quite literally is not supposed to be up to you. Minors on the internet are supposed to be monitored by their guardians. If you put a disclaimer/tag for your content and some dumbass clicks it anyway and doesn't like what they see, that's their fault not yours.

I've also noticed that the majority of people who are pro ship are prone to actually filtering content they don't like, while antis seem entitled and want the creator to do it for them. Its just a better fanbase experience all around in my experience.

As someone who helps run multiple pro ship accs, i understand the visibility can be scary. But I promise at the end of the day you'll feel a lot better for it. Hope this is at least semi-helpful/reassuring idk ❤

[sweetaesuga]

in your heart | his fridays

pairing: jungkook x female reader

genre: fluff, angst(?), established relationship, fratboy jk, ex-fuckboy jk, bookworm reader!

warnings: language, implied drinking, these two are crackheads basically

word count: 1.1k 

synopsis: your fridays without jungkook.

timeline: takes place after the events of in your eyes. 

↳ masterlist

a/n: my posts aren’t showing up under the tags :(((( so sorry for posting this many times. i tried linking a card of current issues going but it’ll hide this🥺

Something doesn't feel right.

It's surely the empty seat besides you where your boyfriend would usually reside but not today. He decided to go to a party his fraternity was throwing. He deemed you would hate him if he was to go to one ever since you started dating which is why he hadn't gone to one in so long. Jungkook even took you out for dinner. 

The whole night consisted of him being sweet to you, way too sweet. Not a jokingly insult was hurled your way how you two normally act towards one another. He took the chance to ask you if he could attend the party. 

The question struck you a bit. You didn't want him asking you permission to go somewhere, you never wanted to be that couple. You didn't want to eventually become the girlfriend who hogged all of his attention. You just wished he wouldn't bail out on you all the time like he used to. You assured him that he didn't have to ask you permission to go to such places yet he still felt awkward. 

Jungkook💓: are u sure about this??

Jungkook💓: i can always not go u know

Jungkook💓: if ur not ok with it 

sugar mama🥺: I'm fine with it!!! 

sugar mama🥺: Go have fun just don't do anything stupid without me

Jungkook💓: ok i luv u

His response threw you off. You've only been dating for two months and none of you have ever told each other you love one another. You don't dwell too much on the topic, simply brushing it off as Jungkook just being excited and he didn't genuinely mean it.

You sat on your couch, searching through Hulu. You contemplated whether or not to watch Rick and Morty, the show you two watch together. Knowing your boyfriend, he would whine about you watching it without him. You exited and scrolled through Netflix. Your attention was divided, one on the movie you were watching and the other on Jungkook's text. In the end you selected a random movie, choosing to just have it as background noise to swallow the silence in the room that was normally filled with Jungkook and you. 

You explored through your Instagram. Reloading your page again, your heart stopped. Taehyung had uploaded a picture. He was taking up most of the picture but Jungkook is still seen in the edge, grinning like an idiot with a bottle of beer in his hand. The others are a blur. 

You felt guilty for going ease from the sight of no girl nearby. You were still insecure despite his comfort. 

You liked the picture, reading the caption before going on to the explore page. You find yourself looking at memes, sending the funniest ones to Jungkook. You didn't care that you sent him twenty-two messages and he'll probably respond the next morning as long as he sent you twenty-two texts back instead of a singular response. 

It's around one in the morning when you receive a thread of messages from your boyfriend coming all at once. You were half awake, body threatening to enter slumber. You frowned with squinted eyes when your phone screen shined. Tiredly, you unlocked your phone. 

Jungkook💓: hiiiiiiiii

Jungkook💓: i miss u i'm sorry for not being there with u

Jungkook💓: forgive me🥺🥺

Jungkook💓: i think i'm drunk but not really

Jungkook💓: thank fuck autocorrect gets me cuz i'm like typing the wrong shir rn

Jungkook💓: i'm in my bed rn :((((

Jungkook💓: n i miss u so much like

Jungkook💓: so so sos osos osos odiosos much

Jungkook💓: wtf my keyboard just wrote that

Jungkook💓: is that spanish???

sugar mama🥺: Idk 

sugar mama🥺: R u ok???

sugar mama🥺: How much did u have to drink?? 

Jungkook💓: idk they just kept common u know??

Jungkook💓: fuckhdn i meant comming*

Jungkook💓: wait but like did u mist me too🥺🦆🥺

sugar mama🥺: Ofc i did🙄

sugar mama🥺: Now go to bed ur gonna feel like shit in the morning

jungkook💓: bet 

jungkook💓: IMG_3725.JPG

jungkook💓: dont my toes look prettyyyyukjd

sugar mama🥺: Stop we said we weren't into this feet shit n go to mf bed

Jungkook💓: ooooooo someone's mad that i got prettyer feet than them😌

Before you can reply to him, his name flashed over your phone screen. You swiped across the screen, bringing your phone up to your ear. You regret doing so as Jungkook screamed into the phone that he has more beautiful feet than you which you can not deny. There's a hiccup before he continued. "I'm like so fucking drunk right now. I miss you so much, I wish you came," his speech is a little slurred but you don't mind. "But I know you hate being surrounded by a lot of people, claustrophobic bitch."

You laughed into the speaker. Jungkook enjoyed every second of it. "You know what? At least I'm not afraid of a microwave." 

You heard him gasp on the other line. "Microwaves have the potential to blow up and shit! Why the hell are you afraid of a spider that's not even half your size?" Jungkook shook his head, remembering how last week you forced him to kill a spider in the corner of the room. He tried to convince you to leave it alone but you weren't having it. 

"They're fucking spiders! Almost everyone in the world is afraid of them even your mom!" he stayed silent for a second. Right when he was ready to defend himself he suddenly realized his mother does have a fear of spiders. "Aww, cat got your tongue, bubba?" 

Jungkook giggled, laying out on his bed. An empty spot next to him where your body would occupy it. He doesn't say anything else, choosing to listen to your breathing. You call out his name, wondering if he dozed off. Jungkook hummed into the speaker. "I think I'm going to have to cut this short and go to bed. I love you," he smiled only to be met with silence. His cheeks burned in embarrassment and he was ready to open his mouth and drunkenly take everything back. 

"Goodnight, don't think you're going to remember in the morning but I love you too," your voice was quiet. It almost drove Jungkook to tears from how small you sounded, almost as if scared to confess to him. 

He hung up first, falling asleep quickly despite being disturbed by the void place besides him. You don't fall asleep right after. In fact, you don't sleep the whole night. Your mind too focused on your conversation. 

Jungkook💓: HOLY SHIT HOW MUCH DID I DRINK