#to be fair even though the fic itself doesn't have much to it I've written a ton of side one-shots and done a lot of world-building so

[debbiechanclub]

I totally understand if y'all don't believe me at this point, but the new part 3 of TMHWMP will be posted tomorrow. Between two writing/editing assignments for potential new jobs and the little girl, it was hard to find time to write the last two days 😅 BUT the last scene of this chapter is basically a copy/paste job from the old version, so look out for it tomorrow! And if anyone would like to be added to my tag list, just let me know! 😁

[rustyvanburace]

To be honest, as much as I really do want to write IssaNava and put all my thoughts down in a fic, I think my past shipping experiences has left me really hesitant and even admittedly afraid to.

I can't deny that IssaNava would face a lot of conflict and issue that would have to be meaningfully addressed for them to even work -- same as with WalterJona or any other pairing with conflicted characters, for that matter. It's a ship that I really want to treat right and with the utmost respect. And as much as I like the enemies-to-lovers trope (or maybe conflicted persons-to-lovers would be more apt) as much as everyone else does, it is such a difficult trope to write for and one that requires careful balance. At least, that's what I've learned.

There was a time I had a ship I used to really love. Around that same time I was writing with someone (technically role-playing) who also liked that ship. We aimed for the conflicted-to-lovers approach, but it ran into a lot of serious problems where we both had very different ideas of where it would go despite talks. That in itself is not inherently bad, as sometimes characters (especially in RP) just don't click. But my writing partner was particularly disappointed in me, insinuating that I just wasn't trying hard enough yet also not even acknowledging the more shippy or positive things I did wrote. I was trying really hard and my efforts could never meet their growing expectations. It got so bad that they grew suspicious that every negative interaction between our characters was somehow a deliberate ploy I made. That I "hated" their character.

I can't hold too much ill will against them as they had their own poor experiences and there were moments where I could've written better. But trying really hard to make a ship work and receiving so much dissatisfaction and even outright suspicion, it really fucked with my confidence as a writer. More than just that one ship though, I got the vibes that they saw me as a bad writer in general. I literally couldn't write anything after that.

Needless to say, that whole experience completely ruined that ship for me as now all I can associate with it are my own failings. And even though I still like the conflicted-to-lovers trope, the very potential in two characters who are in conflict yet are able to see beyond that and become friends and then something more -- I am so hesitant to write that now. I need to treat it delicately and with the utmost care. If I cannot get the ship right and write them perfectly, then it will never suffice. Anything less is not acceptable. ...That's the kind of thinking I get roped into.

IssaNava is very much a ship I really, really want to treat right in respect to their class differences and their struggles. They would realistically have conflict that cannot just be swept under the rug. I suppose I have a much easier time now, because I would be writing them alone and can direct any story as I please. But even still, there is that lingering fear that my writing will never do them or their circumstances justice and that anything I output will be unsatisfactory. Or worse.

In the same light though, queer ships are inherently messy and raw. They cannot just be made to fit into a neat little box. And Navarre and Issachar are very, very messy characters. Is it also even fair to me to be held by the expectations of another who was never truly satisfied with anything I wrote?

This doesn't just make me adverse to writing my ships, despite deepdown really wanting to, but also even from wanting to share them on a close level. I cannot ever get back the love I had for that old ship ever again and I never want to lose that with the things I love now.

Clearly the answer is that these things should all be for myself first and foremost. Lately I have been trying to do more for me and to allow myself to be selfish. Even still, I don't think I can just easily shrug off the perfectionism and fear of failure that has been deeply instilled in me. Maybe I will never actually bring myself to write IssaNava. Maybe I am just not cut out for writing fanfics. But, those also doesn't have to be a bad thing either.

[thefanficmonster]

Heather

Valkyrae x Corpse's Sibling Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Mentions of a Breakup and Sadness post-breakup, Swearing

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, FLUFF, Romance, Friends-To-Lovers, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Rae opens up to Y/N following a heart-breaking split with her boyfriend. Luckily for her, they know exactly what to do.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I'm so sorry I haven't been able to get to it sooner but here it finally is and I really hope you enjoy the fic! Love, Vy ❤

Note: The Anon sent me a song to accompany the fic. Here's the LINK to the song which I suggest you play when you see the 🎶 emoji. The song

I've been sitting at my desk, staring at a blank notebook page for the past hour and a half. Well, at least now if someone asks me what's the most falsely romanticized job I'll know what to tell them - a singer songwriter. Singing is a story in and of itself but the latter, the songwriting is one hell of a challenge especially when your emotions are such a mess, you don't know how to convey them into words and write them down. Maybe I'm the idiot though, who knows.

A soft knock comes to the door to my room, not as a question if the person on the other side can come in, more like an announcement that he's coming in and I can do little to object.

And of course it's my brother Corpse.

"Hey can you fill in for the stream, we're one short." He asks, strutting his way over to me to take a peek at what I've written, I wish he didn't cause I hear him snort at the sight of the blank page. "Blockade?"

"Yeah and I've been banging my head against it for the past hour, so no I can't fill the spot." I retort, throwing the notebook to the side so I can run my hand through my hair.

He sighs with an emotion between compassion and mild frustration, "Ok, I'll try and help you when we're done with the stream IF you fill the spot."

It's now my turn to sigh. I know I won't really enjoy myself if the goddamn unfinished song is at the back of my mind constantly. Not even at the back, but completely flooding my brain. But then again, without Corpse's help, I doubt I'm gonna write a single lyric by the end of today.

I decide to agree, "Fine, you have a deal." He lets out a victorious laugh as he kisses the top of my head, a gesture that makes me feel so small and tiny, not like he's only three years older than me. I shrug him away, refusing to feel like a child again cause that gesture of reassurance dates back to when I was three years old and I'd complain to him about monsters under my bed. I quickly throw a pointless question to swerve situation, "Who's not playing?"

Corpse shrugs, "Rae texted me last minute that she won't be joining us. She didn't say what was up but I'm sure it's nothing serious."

After hearing her her name I zoned out of the conversation, my heart dropping in my stomach. I've told myself time and time again that I worry too much, that I'm being irrational. That I'm being an idiot feeling that way about someone who's mind I don't cross even once. And I don't mean that in a way that'd paint Rae in a bad light - she's a wonderful person. She's possibly the kindest and most caring person I've ever met. It's not her fault she doesn't like me, at least not in the way that I like her.

"Ok..." I say, "Um, let me just do something real quick and I'll log onto Discord and join you guys." My words give him the clear notation that I'd like for him to leave the room.

Luckily he picks up on it, "Cool, and don't rush there're like ten minutes till the stream starts." With that he leaves the room, leaving me with my circling thoughts that I just know I won't be able to suppress until I talk to Rae.

Now if only I had the guts to do that.

Fuck it, text her - that can't hurt! You have ten minutes, pull yourself together!

Yeah, ten fucking minutes to figure this shit out. To be fair, there's nothing to figure out, I'm overreacting over a goddamn text that I haven't even sent yet.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I grab my phone and find Rae's contact in my messages. I quickly type out a 'Hey is everything ok?' and spare it a momentary second glance to spell-check it before sending it.

Wait...what if she doesn't reply in the next nine minutes?

Then I'll die a little inside and worry myself out of my mind. I'd much rather she leave me on 'seen', that way only my heart would be broken which I've gotten used to.

I fixate my gaze on my the blank page of my notebook, reaching out for it just when my phone starts ringing. I jerk my arm back and grab the buzzing device, looking at the screen which displays an unknown number. It's a new phone though so I wouldn't be surprised if it's someone I know who I've forgotten to input in my new contacts.

"Hello?" I answer it.

"Hey! Y/N it's you, right? Corpse gave me your number but I'm not sure if I typed it in correctly." She pauses for a second, not enough to allow me to speak though, "If you aren't Y/N this is super embarrassing so uh..."

I can't help but chuckle, "It's me, Rae, don't worry. You've got the right number." It's only then that my heart skips a beat as my brain has finally comprehended what's going on.

Rae just fucking called me. The chances of me sounding like an absolute idiot all throughout this phone call are scarily high, almost high enough to convince me into faking a bad reception and hanging up. Although, let's be honest, I could do that to anyone, but to Rae I could never.

"Hey...so, um, what's up? What're you doing?" She asks me, very obviously dancing around something else that she doesn't have the courage to say it yet. I'm not one to speak on that topic especially not if we take a look at what was going through my mind about two minutes ago.

"Not much. I'm about to hop into the stream, take your place and all." I chuckle again but more because of how fucking nervous and flustered I am than the actual humor in my sentence - which there was none of, by the way.

"Ah, a worthy replacement, I see." Rae laughs, but the sound is hollow, not at all like her real wholehearted, loud and captivating one. The one that can and always does bring a smile on my face.

"We'll see how worthy I am." I instinctively rub the back of my neck, tugging at the hairs there as if that's gonna help me with my composure which very fragile at the moment. "What are you up to? What's keeping you busy?"

I hear the airy sigh she lets out - something I was probably not intended to catch but it worries me nonetheless. It's a sad sigh. I know it could just be that anxious side of me talking, falsely interpreting the noise, but I can't help it, ok?!

"Um, well, not much either, just...figuring out how to navigate the single life again." There's that fake happiness to her voice once more, but this time the words signal why it's present.

She's single?

"Wait, wha-" She doesn't let me finish my question.

"Steven and I broke up." She says, her voice cracking and shaking. She's on a breaking point of tears and I feel the desperate need to comfort her, feeling utterly helpless because I'm unable to do so. It's the most disheartening feeling I've ever felt - wanting to help someone who means so much to me while my hands are tied.

"Oh Rae, I'm so sorry, that's terrible. What happened? You guys seemed-" I once again am not allowed to finish what I've started saying because she once again does it for me.

"Like the perfect couple? Yeah, it's an easy act to pull off when so many pairs of eyes are watching through screens." She sniffles, telling me that she wasn't able to hold back the tears, "What the cameras didn't see is how bored we were of one another. How dead our relationship was. It was a matter of time, a 'when' instead of 'if' but he eventually found someone more interesting. And I'm happy for him, I really am, but it still hurts. I can't help but think I'm the reason we got so bored of one another."

If my heart was cracked before, now it's completely shattered. I hate how she thinks so low of herself sometimes. I hate how she can't see how amazing she is and each time something happens she blames herself and sees all the shortcomings as hers. I hate how she can't see all her incredible qualities. I hate that she can't see herself through my eyes.

"Hey, hey, Rae, listen to me. A relationship's gotta be 50/50, you can't blame yourself for something he is equally responsible for! Please, don't beat yourself up over it. I mean, I get that it's hard but I promise you that dick Stewart is not worth it." I rant, forgetting the time limit and the stream altogether now that I have a lot bigger challenge and duty on my hands - bring the happiness, the genuine one, back to this wonderful girl. I hear Rae giggle, warming my heart and inviting a smile to show up on my face which is nothing new if I'm being honest. But still, I'm afraid I don't understand the reason behind that laugh. "What?"

"His name's Steven." She corrects me, still giggling as she does so.

I remain confused for another moment until I backtrack a little and realize I used a wrong name to address her asshole ex. I never liked the guy, something has always been super off-putting about him in my eyes. Ok, to be fair it may have had something to do with the fact that he was dating Rae, but I'd like to believe the whole friend group would agree with me on that.

"Stewart, Steven - whatever, same shit." I say casually, getting that laugh I'd been hoping for in response, "I got the first two letters right at least."

"Yeah, that's more than enough...." she says, trailing off slightly, allowing for a deep silence to fall upon the call which she also puts an end to saying: "You have a stream to get to now, sorry to have bothered you." She says a little awkwardly which to me is the cutest thing ever.

Who am I to talk anyway - I'm the literal definition of an awkward turtle around her.

"You could never bother me, Rae. But, um, yeah Corpse is gonna kill me if I leave him hanging." In all honesty, I don't give a crap, but it's obvious that she'd much rather be alone and deal with all her thoughts and emotions on her own and I don't wanna interfere.

We exchange byes and end the call, leaving me sitting here with an odd mix of emotions. That lump of sorrow is still present, but there's also the warmth of having made her smile and laugh just minutes ago. It's too confusing for me who's gotten used to feeling only one emotion at a time - mostly rejection though. Never thought that could be classified as a feeling but boy was I wrong.

Despite my better judgement, or thanks to the lack thereof, I reach out and grab my songwriting notebook. I flip through the pages to find the one song I had been working on for months and only finished it a week ago. It was meant as a closure song, something remarkable to help me overcome the dread of letting go of my crush on Rae. Yeah, seems to me it didn't work, seems to me I never let go of it. Although it's far from surprising, it's still disappointing to see how whipped and simultaneously pathetic I am. I regret not taking better control of my feelings sooner but the damage has already been done, there's no use dwelling on it. I gotta look forward and if I'm being honest, what's 'forward' doesn't look all that appealing either.

I read through the messily written lyrics, cringing at how narcissistic they now seem to me. They're focused on my feelings, my pathetic agony of the inevitable rejection I feel without Rae even having to do anything in particular to insinuate it. It makes me feel like a real asshole now that I actually analyze it better, looking at it from a different angle.

Not even once in these lyrics have I mentioned why I've fallen for this girl. Nowhere has it been mentioned what makes her so amazing and wonderful.

I wrote this song thinking it was for her but it's now that I realize it was for me all along.

I make a mental note to modify the lyrics later, scribbling over the worst lines and verses that I'll definitely replace with something more meaningful, something that'll come from the heart and not from the desperate need to let go of the whirlpool of feelings I have for Rae because that's not a real motive here.

With that in mind already, it's put in the second place of my mental to-do list. First, I have something more important to do.

I flip back to the blank page, clicking my pen a couple of times before writing the title at the top of the page.

'Heather (My Version)'

Just then my phone vibrates with a text.

Corpse: Where the hell are you???

I roll my eyes.

Me: Technical difficulties

Corpse: Yeah right

Corpse: Good thing Emma made it, otherwise you'd be DEAD

I leave him on seen, putting my phone on silent as I chuck it on the beanbag chair in the corner of the room, not paying it any mind whatsoever. The further it remains from my reach, the more I'll be able to focus without any distractions.

I really don't need any of those with this newfound task at hand. What is it, you may be wondering, well let me tell you.

Rewriting that old song will be nice for a song to add to my album as another chapter in my life but it won't cut it in the actual love department. I need to and want to make a song for for her. A song for her ears only to let her know that she shouldn't be wasting tears on that asshole. A song that will tell her that he's not worth it and that she should let go and that she'll have my full support throughout this difficult process. A breakup is never easy and I've taken it upon myself to do all I can to help her through it.

But I'm a singer, so I can't just say that to her. No, I have to be extra.

I don't know where these lyrics came from and how they inhabited my head so quickly considering I was blocked of any motivation or ideas by a literal bricked wall about fifteen minutes ago. It's true what they say - life's event are the motive, your mind just has to conjure them with your emotions to create something unique and special. While this may not be the most unique since it's a twist of an already existing song, there's not a doubt in my heart that it'll be special.

I hope Rae thinks so as well.

* * * * *

Here goes nothing

Me: Hey, are you doing better?

...

Rae: Yeah, slowed down a bit on the crying lol

Rae: How'd the stream go?

Um...good question....

Me: It was fine, boring without you tho

Rae: Oh you flatter me but I ain't buying it

Me: Ask anyone, they'll tell you the same thing

On second thought, please don't. I don't want you thinking I see you the same way everyone else does. I mean, I do wanna give hints of some kind.

Rae: Nah I trust you :P

*sigh* Here goes nothing - part 2

Me: Btw, I wanted to show you something

Rae: What is it?

Me: Something that'll hopefully cheer you up

With that I send the short video I filmed of myself singing the spinoff lyric to Conan Grey's 'Heather'. I've watched it a dozen times before even texting her but I still tap it so I can view it one more time, probably at the same time as Rae.

🎶

God, I'm blushing so hard and my hair's a mess and she can see how messy my room is in the background. Shit, how didn't I notice this before?! Why didn't I re-record it?

Well at least it sounds decent...

Oh God, does it?

If it does, why hasn't she replied yet? Did it creep her out? Does it seem to desperate? Is it too cheesy?

I nearly drop my phone when it starts ringing, startling the life out of me. My soul returns to my body just to leave it once again at the sight of Rae's name on the screen.

"H-Hi?" I stutter out, unsure of my own voice and that very casual word people - including myself - throw around so often.

"Y/N that was beautiful." She says, sniffling again which makes me think my message has fallen on deaf ears.

"But you're still crying." I whine/complain, disappointed in myself and my lack of ability to make one of the most important people in my life happy.

"Not because of Steven, you dummy. Because of you. Because of those lyrics..." she trails off for a moment, leaving me in a painful state of suspense, "Cause I finally know you feel the same."

Um, run that by me again?!?!

"Rae, I..." I struggle to find the words to say what I'm thinking. I don't even know what I'm feeling at this point. "I don't know what you're saying. I mean, I know what you're saying but I don't want to misunderstand or-"

"Ok, Y/N listen, no offense but you can be really dense sometimes." She laughs, leaving me confused and in-between possible answers, neither of which I want to think is the correct one to avoid the phenomena of wishful thinking and let too much on. "To me, you too are Heather."

"Oh....yeah, I really am dense..." I'm still tangled up in a web of disbelief so THAT's the answer I give. Luckily it makes her giggle which is positive.

"You are but I like it. You pull it off well." She says, turning my cheeks a deep shade of red.

I believe enough has been said to paint a picture. The rest remains between the two of us.

* * * * *

I've just finished modifying the lyrics to that horrendous song I wrote, making it more authentic than ever. I smile to myself as I flip the notebook closed and put it down on the desk gently as opposed to the way I chucked it earlier. Really goes to show that it's all a matter of the mindset I'm in.

The door to my room is flung open showering the shadows with the light from the hallway. My desk lamp is the only source of light in here so the silhouette in the doorway is just that - a silhouette with no features I can make out other than that messy mob of curls which tells me it's none other than my brother.

"What the fuck was that disappearing act all about?!" He asks, clearly frustrated as he flicks the light on, causing my eyes to squint.

"I told you I was having technical difficulties." I attempt to defend myself, feeling no real guilt though.

"Oh please, I ain't falling for that crap." He narrows his eyes at me as he plops himself down in the beanbag chair. "You can forget about that help I offered you."

I scoff, smirking victoriously, "I don't need it. I got the song and I got the girl."

His eyes widen in shock as he straightens his posture, "What?"

Ah, I forgot - he doesn't know about my crush on Rae.

"What?" I reply dumbly, knowing full well that won't get me out of this shit I deliberately threw myself into.

[mithranqueersmusings]

I Think I'll Love You Too II

Chapter: 2/?

Rating: U

Summary: George and Ringo have been going out officially for a couple of months. Ringo anticipated that dating a stripper would be complicated, but he didn't understand exactly how complicated it would be.

Tags: Modern AU, Established Relationship

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr (Background McLennon)

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

The following clean-up from their nocturnal experiment was far from easy, the wax seemed to crumble into tiny pieces and was determined to cover each inch of the carpet. George was insistent on doing most of the work, a struggle of manners ensued in which Ringo was adamant that he should help but eventually gave in and took up George's offer to relax in the bath.

Soaking in the warm water, Ringo's mind began to wander to their first official date. It seemed like such a long time ago now, although it had only been a couple of months at the most. Ringo could vividly picture arriving at George's house for the first time and picking him up for dinner, bruises still dotted across George's pale skin from the somewhat embarrassing but retrospectively rather comical fall at the club. Ringo had struggled to figure out the best place to take George, unfortunately the only advice available was John's.

"He's a vegetarian." Ringo emphasised for the fourth time, John had once again offered up a meat-only establishment.

"Oh, well you could've told me sooner." John scoffed, sometimes Ringo couldn't tell whether he was joking or truly that oblivious.

"What about sushi? That can be veggie, right?" Ringo was fiddling with a bouquet of flowers that had been left on John's kitchen counter, a small card had the name 'Paul' written on it, punctuated with a kiss.

"Sure." John offered "You could always, and hear me out, ask where he wants to go."

Ringo rolled his eyes "Great advice John, thanks. What if he doesn't know either?"

"Then you're both helpless and you belong together."

In the end Ringo had settled on sushi, which only calmed his panic somewhat because he still had to find which sushi place was best. He'd forgotten all about how stressful dating could be, and it'd been a long time since he'd been a proper date. Eventually he settled on a fairly affordable place that wasn't too far from his house, he felt rather silly calling up to make a reservation an hour in advance but he didn't want to risk embarrassing himself by not having a table booked.

This struggle with the restaurant left Ringo only an hour to get himself looking presentable for the date, his closet was emptied onto the floor and bed as he rummaged around for something suitable. He felt like making more of an effort than usual, this was one date he didn't want to screw up, especially knowing how fashionable George was likely to look. In the end he settled on a paisley blazer, it had been a gift from John years ago and had hardly been worn, and a black shirt underneath which he experimented with the buttons of.

He left himself just enough time to brush his teeth, sort out his hair and tidy the room as quickly as he possibly could. Hurrying over to George's in the car, he'd almost forgotten to be nervous about the date itself. Almost forgotten, because as soon as he knocked on George's door Ringo felt a wave of dread washing over him. He hadn't even thought of any conversation starters, or what he was going to order at the restaurant. As he waited for an answer, the dread only festered further. Yet once the door finally opened, revealing George draped in a decorative kimono, all fear subsided.

"Hi." Ringo spoke, suddenly sheepish.

"Hey." George replied with a grin, stepping out onto the street and locking the door behind him.

The two of them looked at one another for a few moments, eyes tracing from head to feet with no words being said. George was wearing makeup: his eyes darkened with liner and mascara, his gaunt cheekbones sparkling with highlight and his lips painted a tempting shade of red. Ringo could see that he'd tried to use foundation to cover over the bruises on his face but it wasn't entirely successful, not that it mattered.

"You look great." Ringo managed to get out without stumbling over his words as they walked over to his car.

"Thanks, so do you." George responded but Ringo supposed he was only trying to be polite.

Passing a shop window, Ringo stole a glance at the reflection and found himself presently surprised at how good the two of them looked together. Ringo was even beginning to believe George's compliment, a surge of confidence arising merely from being stood next to George. He'd anticipated that George would only make him look worse, but there was something complimentary in how the two of them were dressed. It was a small boost that Ringo needed to quash his nerves, he was determined to not ruin the night just because he was feeling anxious.

"So... Where are we headed?" George asked, stretching his legs out in front of him.

"Sushi." Ringo replied more curtly than intended "Is that alright?"

"I love sushi." George answered cheerily.

"What a relief." Ringo chuckled "I'm not gonna lie I was struggling to find a place to eat, with you being a vegetarian and all."

George paused for a moment "You remembered that?"

"Of course I did." Ringo panicked for a moment, afraid he'd said the wrong thing and given too much away but the smile that spread across George's painted lips calmed him back down.

It didn't take them long to arrive at the restaurant, it was rather busy but not so much that it would become uncomfortable. Ringo still couldn't believe his luck, that he'd actually been able to get a date with George. Looking back on how their relationship started, it was strange to consider that they'd end up here.

"Is your face alright?" Ringo asked when they'd been seated, it was hard to not notice the swelling on George's lip.

"Oh yeah, it's fine." George provided evidence with a genuine smile "I've had way worse, don't worry."

"You fall over a lot then?" Ringo joked, looking down at the menu and feeling a little intimidated by the amount of choice.

"Only when I know you're there to catch me." George winked "No, I've had my fair share of scraps here and there. That's just life, isn't it?"

Ringo chuckled "Not in my line of work, no."

"Don't be so modest, I haven't forgotten when you beat up that creep in the club." George was studying his menu with far less fear than Ringo "Any idea what you're gonna order?"

"Haven't the faintest." Ringo read the same words over and over again as though it'd help him understand "What about you?"

"Hmm, I think so." George answered with a confidence Ringo envied "Want some help?"

"Please." Ringo smiled sheepishly, laying down his menu and looking to George for assistance.

The date was hardly going as Ringo had anticipated, but while George went through dishes on the menu with a clear expertise Ringo couldn't stop himself from smiling. The intimidating Spike was describing in detail the difference between maki and temaki with such delicacy, it was such a strange moment of realisation for Ringo that made him truly understand how far they'd come. Ringo realised too late that he hadn't been listening to what George had been saying but it didn't matter in the end because George ordered for the both of them.

"So..." George began, drink in hand.

"So." Ringo repeated with a raised eyebrow.

"How long have you been waiting to take me out?" George asked with a knowing smile.

Ringo half expected this line of questioning to begin, he only wished he'd prepared some answers "Does it make a difference?"

"I'm just curious." George leaned in a little closer, a devilish look in his eyes.

Ringo sighed "Now I'm debating whether to lie so you don't think I'm a loser."

"I wouldn't bother with that, I already know you're a loser Ringo." George spoke deadpan, staring without expression then burst into laughter "I'm sorry, I had to."

"And that's meant to encourage me to be honest?" Ringo laughed nervously.

"Come on, tell me." George sounded almost whiny, a tone Ringo had heard before but never in regular conversation.

"Fine, fine." Ringo conceded after drinking his beer "In all honesty it was probably the first time I saw you... Not that I thought you'd ever say yes, of course."

The answer seemed to satisfy whatever itch George had "Really? I'm that good looking am I?"

"Not to sound cliché, but have you seen you? I don't think I've seen anyone more attractive." Ringo spoke somewhat seriously.

George blushed just slightly, having to look away from Ringo's intense gaze "You're sweet. But why were you even in the strip club in the first place? You didn't seem too at home, at least from what I remember."

Ringo felt rather complimented that George even remembered how he'd been acting all that time ago, he'd always supposed he hadn't left much of an impression at all and whatever he did was surely negative.

"John dragged me there. He, uh-" Ringo stopped himself before saying too much "Thought it'd cheer me up."

George squinted his eyes in suspicion "What aren't you telling me?"

Ringo paused, debating the best verbal exit strategy but the good beer and even better food was slowing his thought processes "Uh... Nothing?"

"Oh come on." George kicked Ringo lightly under the table "You think I'm gonna judge you?"

"Well, yes... But fine, I'll tell you." Ringo chuckled, pausing for an anticipatory breath "I'd been going through a bit of a... dry spell, so to speak."

A grin spread across George's face "Seriously?"

"Seriously." Ringo repeated, hiding his shame behind his beer.

"I find it hard to believe that you were having a 'dry spell'." George rested his hand on Ringo's own, his finger tracing around the metal of the rings.

"Well, I'd, er- I'd still be having one if you hadn't come along." Ringo stammered "Shit, that sounds really pathetic, doesn't it?"

"Just a tad." George smiled reassuringly "I'm just glad I could be of service."

"For a while you were making it worse, actually." Ringo had finished his beer and was itching for another "With all my pent up frustration and then I see you undressing on that stage, I nearly lost my mind."

George chuckled, looking rather proud of himself "I can only apologise for being so tempting." He emphasised the word by running his tongue over his top lip onto his sharp canine tooth.

"No need to apologise, it's your job after all." Ringo tried to remain composed "And in the end it all worked out so... No harm done."

"My aching body disagrees." George pouted his still somewhat swollen lip.

"Well... That was your own fault really." Ringo joked, finally catching the waiter's eye so that he could order another beer.

"You're right, you're right." George's hand was still pressed against Ringo's "Hopefully from here on out all the pain will be consensual."

Ringo blushed "Hopefully."

Later that night it was clear that there was no longer any need to be hopeful.

[narutoblogcallouts]

I'd like to put forth that I'm sending this as an Anon for the sole reason that I do not want you to tag me in the post as I've actually already received quite a bit of anonymous hate, some comments having been posted directly on my fic and targeting my fanart.

As you can tell, it's fairly obvious that I'm one of the Tumblr users who was recently "called out" by your blog. If you sift through your previous posts, you'll realise how easy it is to discern 'who' as well.

I was very tempted to go all out and reply with a great deal of vehemence, but it would be entirely counter-productive. So here I am, writing a Ted-Talk of an anonymous ask.

The reason why I'm sending this is because I want to share my opinion on the matter in the most diplomatic fashion I'm capable of and hopefully things will end there ( not just for me, but others as well).

While I'm fairly sure that nothing I have to say will deter you from continuing with this project of yours, I do however harbor hope that other bloggers who are tempted to submit anonymous hate will reflect, even if it's just a teensy bit, before they hit the send button.

I don't want to beat around the bush any further — You may be under the impression that your actions do not constitute direct harassment, but the entire concept behind this blog is very much a form of harassment in itself because it inherently propagates malicious behavior through the guise of "anon asks" and justifies it with a shoddily short tw stating it's a toxic blog.

It's obvious that you're a willing participant in propagating further hate and you are just as responsible as the anons themselves — just because they sent the call-out doesn't make you an impartial spectator.

You wouldn't in fact find the word "toxic" juxtaposed to the antonym of "harassment": it's either a toxic blog that harasses people or it's a neutral blog that avoids pestering others by taking the necessary measures to not publicly draw unwarranted attention to them, especially where it’s entirely out of context and undue.

What's more is that this account you're running doesn't really even constitute an actual call-out blog, there is no impartial fact-checking for example. Neutrality is breached since you freely accept anon posts regardless of how nasty they are, yet do nothing to censor the Tumblr account's handle, even going as far as to tag the mentioned user so that others, your followers for example, have quicker access to them - And those who get called out have no way of defending themselves, even though they find their accounts publicly broadcast for all to see. You've even underlined yourselves that if you, the admins, personally find a user to be annoying, they will be exposed - I can't see any fairness to this, the entire setting is clearly skewed in favor of the accuser's anonymity, i.e the anons who just want stir things up and spew their hate on this platform and on others.

It all boils down to the following and you actually state so yourselves: the entire point of the blog is simply to "be ahead of the loop" and cater to people who "just want to call out a blog". There's little else to it, I'm afraid.

So yes, you are responsible for the harassment that ensues.

And it's unpleasant to say the least.

Look, I'll admit it was unwise of me to interact with your call-out in the first place and I'll agree on the fact that 'unnecessary drama creates platform' (and yes, I'm aware of the fact that my way of commenting was bound to elicit a reaction of some kind) But this ask I'm sending isn't really even for myself (I know full well the anon only "exposed" me because they dislike my content, I've never written anything problematic nor hateful, it's only a matter of diverging opinions and in any case I'm perfectly capable of sorting things out on my own) - the fact is, if I do hold any coherence with the moral stand I've taken, then I have to at least attempt at reaching out and inviting you, the admins, to reflect on how detrimental an effect your blog can have on other people.

While I myself will brush it off, because I essentially know how to deal with this kind of thing, other people don't. Younger users don't. Fragile users don't. Users with low self-esteem don't. And it causes them unnecessary distress and hurt. It causes them to self-isolate.

These public call-out posts you write provoke the worst kind of behavioral traits in those who think it's okay to bully others because they feel they are legitimated to do so since you give them that very opportunity and agency (mainly because of the anon option - realistically speaking, hardly anyone would submit anything if it meant their identity would be compromised).

Come on, let's be candid, Tumblr is home to a lot of people who suffer from things like depression and anxiety and they use this space to talk about the things they love because, and this should be obvious, they can't do that elsewhere — there's already enough hate and strife and overall unpleasantness in life, both in real-world and online, why create something that would act as a sounding board for all those things?

It should be just commonplace knowledge that dodgy call-outs shouldn't even exist, they're just nasty and useful to no one.

So my question to you is this: why would you want to involve yourself with this kind of thing in the first place?

Since I don't expect an actual though-out response, all I can say is this: it would be better if you limited your call-out content to something that doesn't directly target accounts and individual people.

By all means, allow your followers to vent about ships, characters, dynamics, sub-fandoms, headcanons, questionable metas, and so on and so forth, however toxic they may be, but please avoid exposing individually selected accounts to online hate because it's just sucking the joy out of online fandom as a whole, pointlessly hurting people and rendering the atmosphere even more vile than what it already is.

*steps off of the soapbox and leaves*

- we don't know who you are anon but we do have time to read this.

so by all means we will still allow people to do whatever in our blog.