#still plenty of time for ppl to claim prompts!

[tommyplum]

- eggplant peach question mark  |  tommy/alfie, modern au    for @boundinshallows’ sholomons prompt fest 2019

Tommy is the manager at a liquor distribution outlet, Alfie is the co-owner of a microbrewery. Even with all that booze around they have slow days at work. Luckily, they’ve got their mobiles, and each other.

TXT: Alfie. I'm going out of my mind.

TXT: The temp agency sent me May Carleton of all people to cover for Lizzie while she's on hols and I suspect Lizzie knew beforehand because she's left five separate towers of ancient bills of lading to be entered into the system and filed away which is impossible

TXT: And all we've got open in the back liquor fridge is raspberry sour. 

TXT: Talk to me, Alfie, cheer me up. Tell me what you're wearing. 

TXT: No, tell me what you WISH you were wearing.

---

alfie

[TXT] And why is May Carleton such an affront, sweetie? Surely she’s as capable as that Lizzie of yours of rolling her eyes at you? 

[TXT] My day’s going swimmingly, thanks for asking. 

[TXT] And stay away from that bloody raspberry horror. You know what happened the last time you drank it, and I can’t get away today to fetch you out of trouble.

[TXT] But, since you’re curious, I’m wearing jeans and that leopard shirt that you hate.

[TXT] What I’d LIKE to be wearing though, is your mouth. How’s that?

---

tommy

TXT: Because, Alfie, the last time she temped here was at Christmastime and I went down on her in the supply closet. 

TXT: I mean 'affront' isn't the word I'd use, more like 'awkward reminder of why I don't drink alcopop anymore'

TXT: The point isn't May's capability, she's more than, it's that Lizzie purposely left her more work than is humanly possible and it's maybe entirely because she wanted to be able to report to the agency that May didn't do all the work she was left.

TXT: Or maybe I'm overthinking.

TXT: Swimmingly? As good as all that? Have you cracked the recipe for that new seasonal lager, then?

TXT: Too late. The raspberry doesn't go as well with tea as the caramel apple did, but it'll do in a pinch.

TXT: Any chance some terrible accident concerning a boiler and a thousand pounds of mash might happen to that leopard shirt? Preferably when you're not in it, but Alfie, I really do hate it so I'm not going to be picky

TXT: Ahhh. My Mr. Solomons is in that sort of a mood right now, is he.

TXT: If I were there with you, I'd be having you with my mouth. With your back pressed up against that machine that drops the hops into the vat. 

TXT: There's a machine like that, yes? Anyhow that's where you'd be, backed up against the hop machine. Jeans around your knees, watching me suck you down. 

TXT: I've changed my mind this raspberry tastes WONDERFUL with tea

---

alfie

[TXT] Oh, THAT May Carleton. Never cared for her.

[TXT] Hmph. Good on Lizzie, leaving her some work to keep her busy then.

[TXT] You? Overthinking, love? Perish the thought. 

[TXT] I was being facetious, Thomas my sweet. Ollie’s off on the sick and that seasonal lager still tastes like gingerbread piss.

[TXT] You are aware, love, that they’re not actually paying you to sample the goods, yeah? And I thought you were swearing off alcopop, lest you start sampling the help next.

[TXT] Thankfully no. It’s safe as houses right here on my back in the office. But your concern is noted and appreciated.

[TXT] Your Mr. Solomons is ALWAYS in that sort of a mood where you’re concerned, pet.

[TXT] That’s what I like to hear.

[TXT] Though you’re a bit more caught up in the machinery than I generally care for, Tommy. Focus, yeah?

[TXT] Right, that’s enough bloody raspberry. 

---

tommy

TXT: Because you're horrendously jealous. It was before you and I pinned things down, Alfie. I won't be getting distracted by the temp staff again. May's a good girl.

TXT: Besides which I sent her round a bottle of that Amarula stuff as sort of an apology afterwards and forgot to take off the sample tag so she's been slightly cold to me. 

TXT: If you called it Gingerbread Piss you'd be able to make a lot of money in a very specific market. Consider it, Alfie.

TXT: Nobody takes stock of what's open in the back cooler other than me, the manager, and therefore I, the manager, can drink whatever he damn well pleases. I'm not quite an alcoholic but I'm high-functioning and that's the important thing, isn't it.

TXT: My concern is that the leopard shirt go in the bin

TXT: Mmmm. Call me 'pet' again. 

TXT: All right, all right, you win -- raspberry tea poured down the bog where it belongs. Now to get back to me sucking your cock, Alfie, I'd cup your balls in my hand and slide my mouth all the way down while you watch. Are you watching, Alfie? You'd better be watching. I don't put on this kind of a show for just anybody.

---

alfie

[TXT] Oi, I’m not horrendously anything. I’m just the right and proper amount of jealous, as it happens, being your man.

[TXT] XD Well, that’s put her off, then. Even those pretty blue eyes of yours pale held up against a sample tag, love. You cheap little arsehole. xD I love it.

[TXT] A /very/ specific market. And not one I’m looking to court professionally.

[TXT] It is something, innit? Though that high functionality takes a bit of a turn depending on what you’re drinking, sweetie. 

[TXT] I see. Not for me at all, was it? In danger of industrial accidents? I’d no idea you were so shallow, Thomas.

[TXT] Pet. /My/ little pet, aren’t you?

[TXT] You’d better not. And believe me, love, I’m watching. Watching you look up at me through those long lovely eyelashes as I push my cock deeper into your mouth, making you glug a bit. You know that little noise you make… the one I like so much.

--- 

tommy

TXT: Yes, dear Alfie. You should indeed be afforded all the privileges that come with being my man, intense jealousy included.

TXT: I used to be better at this. Choosing apology gifts for poorly-planned sexual encounters, I mean. I'm losing my touch.

TXT: Is it terrible that the thought of that makes me sad? I hate losing skillsets, is all.

TXT: If I read into your specific wording of not wanting to court that market PROFESSIONALLY would you accuse me of overthinking again

TXT: or should I invest in some rubber sheets

TXT: I discovered one of those flash-in-the-pan bottles of low-calorie margarita and nobody will miss it. We should drink more margarita, you and I. It's so FESTIVE

TXT: You know precisely how shallow I am, because I've told you time and time again that I didn't listen to a word you said for at least two hours when we first met because all I did was stare at your lips.

TXT: Your little pet, Alfie. Collar me and put me on your leash.

TXT: Your belt will do, in a pinch, come to think of it. I've seen the state of your dog leads. They're not chew toys, you know.

TXT: I do know that noise you get out of me when you're pushing against my tongue with your big thick cock, Alfie, I do. I'm the one making it, aren't I?

TXT: glufrgh

TXT: like that

---

alfie

[TXT] Listen you, intensity is in the eye of the beholder, yeah? I’m no more jealous than I have right to be what with you sticking your tongue in the typing pool on occasion. A man likes to know that what’s his is HIS.

[TXT] Good. Lose it altogether, so far as I’m concerned. Though I can think of a very thoughtful list of gifts to be bought in case of blue balls, should you be in the market for one.

[TXT] I’m going to blame that little bout of ennui on the raspberry. For a piss-artist you really don’t waste any time going in for the maudlin, love.

[TXT] Rubber sheets might have all sorts of practical uses; who am I to say? I don’t run your household, Tommy sweetheart.

[TXT] Bring it back with you to mine tonight. I’ll cook and we’ll be properly festive, just how you want us to be.

[TXT] That’s right; you did! :D And I found that to be a very endearing admission on your part. Unsurprising, given that I am a glorious example of manhood, but endearing all the same.

[TXT] God, love, in a fucking HEARTBEAT.

[TXT] Alright, now, steady on, Cyril is just a natural chewer, yeah? And better he chew on his leads than your poncey little shoes, hm? He remembers how hurtful you got the last time. Don’t think he doesn’t.

[TXT] That noise loses a bit in the written word - but yeah, that’s it. That thick wet wonderful sound of you swallowing down all I’ve got to give you.

[TXT] But go on, what would you do next as I’m fucking that pretty face? Would you have your hand down your trousers, yet?

---

tommy

TXT: At this point in the narrative, Alfie, I'm all yours. Eye of the beholder and tongue from the typing pool and whatever other scattered body parts are making you fret.

TXT: That isn't a threat to leave me high and dry when it comes to sex, is it? Because we both know how well THAT sort of threat turns out.

TXT: I come from a long line of the maudlin and mawkish. Don't make me haul out family histories of who tumbled down wells accidentally-on-purpose and who drank themselves to death in front of the homestead hearth. It's my HERITAGE, Alfie. 

TXT: Continue being mean to me and I'll find me a well and boot myself down it. See if I don't.

TXT: Melodramatic announcements also run in the family. Heritage!!

TXT: Also for God's sake Alfie be direct for once, eh? Here I'll make it easy: DO YOU WANT TO PISS IN MY MOUTH

TXT: That would btw go down better than this low-cal margarita. I'm getting a bottle of the good stuff to bring round to yours and we can be just how I want us to be with it.

TXT: I made it up to Cyril, didn't I? Took him for his walks for a sodding fortnight in the worst of the October rain. And I've got nothing against natural chewers seeing as you, my darling glorious example of manhood, share that trait with your mutt.

TXT: Hand down my trousers, yeah. Prick already hard, Alfie, from the time I first got my lips wrapped around you. Making whatever noises you want me to make, all of them for you. 

TXT: Want you to cum down my throat so I can taste you for hours after. Sometimes I think I can taste your cum for days, you know. Makes for a strange experience when Ada pops round with new baking and wants my opinion on how her mini cupcakes taste.

TXT: "Like Alfie's spunk, Ada. And white chocolate."

---

alfie

[TXT] Who’s fretting? And was that so bloody hard? It’s hardly my fault that I love you, you bleeding pillock.

[TXT] Sweetie, I would /never/ threaten you with a lack of sex. I mean, let’s be reasonable, yeah? /You’re/ the one who’s basically a human-shaped cat, I’m just looking out for my own lonely interests.

[TXT] Oh yes, here we go, it’s Dylan Thomas and the Shelbys all over again, raging against the dying of the bloody light and taking their sweet sodding time doing it.

[TXT] Mean?! I’m not being mean to you, my sweet lovely boy - bite that forked tongue of yours. This is /teasing/, pet. Because your plaits are the most fun to pull. <3

[TXT] And as far as pissing in your mouth goes, I can’t say as the thought’s never crossed my mind. Have YOU ever considered it? Since you’re the one what brought it up and all. Or is it only the pish of gingerbread men that turns you on, lover?

[TXT] You’re already bloody into it? May’ll be having to pour you into a taxi before the afternoon’s out.

[TXT] But yeah, bring the good stuff. We’ll make a night of it. Just you, me, and the rubber sheets, eh?

[TXT] Seeing as you just called me your darling glorious example of manhood, and it’s made my cock just that little bit harder, I’m going to magnanimously forgive you for calling our boy a mutt.

[TXT] Christ, you know how to make me want you, Tommy. I want you here, on those bony knees of yours, right fucking now.

[TXT] Keep talking about my spunk and how much you love to taste it. You’ll be having it soon enough. Long before your next margarita, my love.

---

tommy

TXT: "I love you, you bleeding pillock". Missed your calling writing Valentine's cards, sunshine.

TXT: I believe these days instead of human shaped cat we're going with bisexual, Alfie. And if you want me to stop being dreary then don't, for the love of God, tell me that you're lonely. It breaks my heart.

TXT: Don't even tease about it. Do you hear me? 

TXT: Dip my plaits in ink all you want but never that. I couldn't take it. I do love you, you bleeding pillock. Diversions into supply closets and over-imbibing of suspiciously saccharine drinks notwithstanding.

TXT: And now that we've gotten THAT out of the way, as regards my drinking your piss: I'm considering it NOW, isn't that enough? You're basically a big fucking gingerbread man yourself, Alfie, I don't see a problem

TXT: I'm stopping. I want to be sober enough to get drunk with you.

TXT: Ah, that's how it works, is it? I appeal to your vanity and you forgive me even for slandering our dog? Powerful intel to have, Mr. Solomons. You may live to regret handing me the reins.

TXT: Good, yes, that's how I want you to think of me, down on my knees for you, Alfie, I always am. Even when we're just talking or fucking texting or standing next to each other in the loo cleaning our teeth and eyefucking each other in the mirror. Know that from now on, Alfie: I'm always on my knees.

TXT: Right where I can keep control of you.

TXT: I'm going to suck you off the minute I walk through that door. 

---

alfie

[TXT] You’re not a hearts and flowers sort of lad though, are you, my sweet?

[TXT] I’m sorry, pet. I’m not really lonely. Hand on heart, yeah? No teasing at all. I’ve got you, and I know it. No matter how I natter on.

[TXT] Because I do love you too, Tommy.

[TXT] And now I’m left to wonder just what exactly it is that makes me a gingerbread man - and, piss notwithstanding - if that status has any impact on your addictive behaviour toward my semen? Am I sweeter than most, love? Tell me I’m the sweetest you’ve ever had. ;)

[TXT] Good. On both counts.

[TXT] As it happens, being on the receiving end of some decidedly saucy texts from my sweetheart has put me in a rather good mood. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s a given, but I think today it’s enough to leave me in a forgiving sort of mindset.

[TXT] Christ. That’s it. I’m calling it. We’re done for the day.

[TXT] Gather ye margaritas while ye may, mate, because I’m coming to pick you up. RIGHT FUCKING NOW.

[TXT] I’m feeling a bit out of control. 

---

tommy

TXT: You've rumbled me there. I'm more of a gin and handjobs sort of lad. 

TXT: Good. You bloody better well HAD know it, that you've got me, because I've already cut the tag off you and I won't return you. 

TXT: Well, you're a gingerbread man because you've got beady eyes and a gumdrop for a mouth and a great big round head, don't you? 

TXT: And you're sweeter than any other I've ever tasted, Alfie, the sweetest of them all. Ask me to be mirror mirror any time and I'll tell you, whenever you like.

[ no reply for about fifteen minutes ]

TXT: I've scored two bottles and given May instructions on closing up and she seems relieved to be rid of me. Come and get me and we'll stop for rubber sheets along the way.

TXT: Don't you worry, Alfie. I've got all the control you'll need.

/end

[ironmandeficiency]

dropped hints never picked up

pairing: wolffe / reader

word count: 2203

summary: wolffe’s been trying to catch your attention for a while now, but you’re more oblivious than he thought you’d be. this is the last time wolffe goes to boost for advice.

req: Wolffe x reader, #15 from the prompt list?

“Hi, I’ve been subtle at hinting that I want your attention all day and you haven’t noticed once and now I’m pissed.”

a/n: i had two ppl request this prompt for wolffe and it made it all the more important to perfect this piece. i changed a couple of words but the meaning is still the same so 🤷🏻‍♀️ no beta, just me on my bullshit

79’s was crowded as always, the music loud and the smell of booze permeating the air. it was comforting when paired with the company of the wolfpack, the battalion you worked under as a medic serving as both pleasant company and a deterrent for unwanted visitors. wolffe had a hand resting on your knee, the commander occasionally giving it a soft squeeze throughout the night.

three nights prior, wolffe found himself sitting on boost’s bunk, head in his hands. for weeks he’d been grappling with the emotions running rampant through his body like a raging blurrg. they were emotions he never wanted to feel, ones he’d been trying to repress to no avail.

boost, oddly enough, seemed to know exactly why wolffe was waiting on him before the commander had even opened his mouth. wolffe wanted to make a move and boost was going to be the one to help him. he advised wolffe on ways to be subtle but still show more affection than normal, things like extra physical contact and some offhand but sweet compliments to kinda nudge things along.

it made sense to him; you weren’t one for big showy signs of affection and he wasn’t a showy kind of guy. you had a way of knowing what he wanted to say when he wasn’t in the mood to speak, seeming to pick up on his moods with a familiarity he didn’t expect to share with someone outside of his brothers or even general buir. there were times where you both would complete each other’s sentences (it was disgustingly cute in the eyes of the rest of the ‘pack) and the blood would rush to your cheeks, wolffe immediately turning away to hide his own blush.

right now you were sandwiched between wolffe and boost, the former on the outside of the booth claimed upon arrival. drinks were passed around by comet who knew how you enjoyed your fruity cocktails with the twisty straws and umbrellas and did not fail in bringing one your way. you thanked him with a smile as you took a small sip, savoring the taste of your drink as well as wolffe’s hand on your knee.

he’d gotten quite a bit more affectionate lately and seemed to be touch starved, so you didn’t comment on the uptick in contact (you didn’t want him to think you weren’t okay with it because you were plenty okay with it) as you let yourself revel in his warmth.

“wolffe, do you wanna try?” you hold your drink towards him with a soft smile. he’d confided in you several days ago that he had a sweet tooth to rival a small child and comet did bring you one of the sweeter cocktails offered at the bar.

your hands brush lightly as he takes the drink from your outstretched hand. he briefly smells the concoction before taking a sip, and judging by the soft smile on his lips he liked the pineapple mango-rita. “not bad, cyare,” he gingerly hands you back your drink, hands once again making brief contact.

“if you like that one, i think you’d also like the nubian smile. it’s a favorite of mine.”

“i’ll have to try it some time.”

then warthog mentions wolffe’s name in whatever story he’s begun and the moment’s broken.

conversation flowed as freely as the bar’s beer tap. you sipped lightly at your single drink and listened more than you spoke. there were several stories shared that you hadn’t heard before, like how sinker got his name and the time boost tried to prank commander cody, that had you laughing uncontrollably and leaning closer to wolffe’s side. he responded in kind and soon moved his hand from your knee and wrapped it around your shoulder, subconsciously pulling you into him. it was more relaxing than you would like to admit.

wildfire had finished ratting out boost for sneaking bubble wrap into dozens of bedrolls when you went to sip your drink and got surprised when the pineapple wedge bonked you on the nose instead.

your face scrunched at the prickly skin of the fruit and wolffe thought it was the cutest face he’d ever seen. the offending fruit wedge was then plucked from the rim and glared at for a brief moment as if it could feel shame for its actions.

the plan was to eat it as punishment for its crimes but wolffe had other plans, playfully snatching it from you and taking a chunk out for himself. he was smug about it, eyes holding yours captive in a “what’re you gonna do about it?” look while his mouth twisted into a playful grin.

“hey, that was mine!”

“gotta be quicker than that, dear,” he replied as he took another bite before sliding it back onto its previous perch.

everyone else at the booth was about to vomit but it wouldn’t be from the booze.

————

you were glued to wolffe’s side the rest of the night at the bar and on the way back to the barracks. neither of you had enough to drink to completely explain the constant small smiles and excessive contact, but you didn’t care. wolffe was here and might as well have been holding you and you were living for it.

he had asked to walk you to your quarters with a gentle hand in yours, thumb smoothing across your knuckles tenderly. you were so absorbed in the skin to skin contact that you could only nod in consent.

the walk there was filled with small talk and nervous touches, both of you leaning into each other without realizing that’s what you were doing. before you knew it, you were in front of your door. neither of you acknowledged the arrival until wolffe grabbed your hand in both of his, tightening his hold briefly.

“sleep well, cyare. i’ll see you tomorrow.” his voice was soft and rumbly, attesting to the late hour and the evening spent drinking.

“see you in the morning, wolffe, goodnight.”

he lifted your hand still grasped in his toward him, placing a feather-light kiss to your palm. it was the gentlest thing you’ve ever seen him do and the fact it was with you sent warmth through your veins. his eyes were locked onto yours as he placed the kiss, keeping you in place.

you were desperate to give something, to reciprocate the tender way he touched you, but he was already leaving you in front of your now-open door for the night. when did your door open? and since when was wolffe so soft towards you?

————

the goodnight kiss wasn’t acknowledged aloud after that but you both thought about it constantly. you had no idea where it came from yet your entire being seemed to yearn for him to do it again when in his presence.

since then he became more open with his affection, even holding your hand in front of his brothers (that would tease a tiny bit before being shut down with a glare that dared them to question his happiness). you responded in kind, holding his hand right back and always finding a way to him after long nights when you were all sent to one planet or another. it was pure bliss and you weren’t going to question it.

but then, while planetside somewhere in the mid-rim, he seemed to not have anything to do besides trail you in your work.

the morning (very early morning) began like many of them had started to since the night at 79’s, you cradled by wolffe’s arms where he clung to you in your sleep as if to keep you from flying away. a fellow medic seemed timid to wake you once they noticed whose arms were keeping you down, the newer woman repeating flustered apologies for the interruption as if it weren’t your job to be woken up like this.

from that moment on through the rest of day, you didn’t spend more than a minute with wolffe at a time. not for his lack of trying.

he would appear seemingly out of nowhere every couple hours or so while you were bandaging one wound or cleaning another, words precise but tone gentle.

“hey cyare, the locals invited several of us for lunch to celebrate our arrival. wondered if you wanted to come with me.”

“you’ve been on your feet for hours, come have a seat for a minute.”

“sinker was playing a game with some of the kids, you shoulda seen his face when they beat him.”

turning the invitation down hurt more than it should have, but you had too many wounded and too few hands to help you with the workload. there was nothing in you that could justify going to a dinner prepared by the people you were here to serve.

a few hours later, he brought a plate back for you so you didn’t completely miss out on eating something that wasn’t rations. it took some convincing but he was able to sit you down and get you to take a moment for yourself to eat. while you ate, he gravitated around the medtent and offered his services where he could to alleviate the guilt he knew you felt for sitting. it was touching to see him talk to the various patients so gently, the children having not an ounce of worry about the giant, strong soldier.

with more effort than you thought it would take on your end (because part of you simply didn’t want to), the commander was shooed out of the tent so you could continue to work.

a couple hours later wolffe showed up again, telling you about a beautiful view one of the scouts found while on patrol that he wanted to show you. the flowers he described were vibrant in color and scent, decorating the landscape with hues previously unknown to many of his men. he wanted to show it to you, help you relax because you had indeed been on your feet nearly the entire day.

when you turned him down yet again, his eyebrows furrowed together and he looked upset. it was a reaction you were not expecting by any means. the other times you didn’t accept his invitations he simply tucked you under his arm briefly and pressed a kiss to your temple. this change in mood was unsettling.

“wolffe, what’s wrong? talk to me.” it worried you to see him distraught, the reason unknown. approaching him slowly, you rested a hand on his shoulder that he quickly moved away, choosing instead to grip it in his a bit tighter than usual.

he took a deep breath to steady himself before answering you, trying to dispel the anger and hurt to avoid making you feel guilty. it didn’t work as well as he wanted it to because his voice was gruff when he answered. “i just-“ he took another breath to steady himself. “gods, y/n, i’ve been subtly hinting that i want your attention all day and you haven’t noticed once and i’m pissed.”

that’s what he’d been trying to do? it made so much sense now! how did you miss it?

your other hand met his that still held you, smoothing over the skin on the top of his hand in consolation. “wolffe, i’m sorry. i just got so wrapped up in work today that everything else just passed right over my head.” you felt guilty. he was only trying to help you and spend time with you and there you were just turning him down!

“and that’s why i kept trying, cyare. you work so hard and while i admire it, i would much rather you spend time with me than the bacta patches.” the smile returned to his face at your ministrations but his eyebrows didn’t soften.

something was clearly confusing him but questioning him before he had his thoughts in order would do nothing to help. so you stood with him and continued to hold his hands as he thought, hoping that whatever he was thinking about wouldn’t hurt him when fully realized.

“do you… want to spend time with me?”

you were shocked. how did he not realize that every time you didn’t go with him today you lost a little pep in your step? each time he came in, your resolve weakened and if he had pushed just a tiny bit more to get you to come with him, you would have given in. you explain this to him with a soft smile.

“i’m sorry for pushing you away today, wolffe. i’d love to go with you.”

the smile that lit up wolffe’s face could have powered the entire planet of coruscant with its radiance. “i’d love to take you, cyare.” you let the commander guide you out of the medtent and towards the promised landscape, too wrapped up in each other to notice the sergeant and lieutenant watching them.

“about damn time! shit, why did it take so long?!”

“shut up, sinker! they were trying to take it slow, be subtle about it!”

“whose dumbass idea was that?”

a pause. “mine.”

“okay, it wasn’t that dumb.”

“thank you.”

“i’m kidding, it was extremely dumb.”

[storiesofsvu]

Rant incoming:

I hate my writing. With a passion. I suck at grammar and spelling.

I constantly am asking for request, to see me get nothing and watching other who have stated their requests are closed still receiving stuff while we chat.

I hate working on something, pouring my heart and soul into it to get 3 likes, a comment and a reblog. Meanwhile I see someone that threw something together in 2 hours that claim it’s crap and get 45 likes and 72 reblogs.

I hate feeling this way but it’s been drilled in me I will never be good enough. As a person, as a writer, as a living being.

And it sucks because I throw myself into mood and start thinking No one would notice or care if I just disappear. Not like I produce any content either. I just, idk. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make this sad bitch hour but these feelings have been all I’ve been feeling all day.

Like I just should give up, leave it to others because clearly everyone else is doing better and I’m just here, wishing to get big....

Sorry this took so long.

First and foremost, especially on this site, things are a goddamn MESS. And it REALLY depends on the fandom/pairing you’re writing for, and if your stuff is showing up in the tags. (Related to “throwing something together in 2 hours and claiming its garbage. I’ve done this, cause its pop and it took me an hour to do and personally, I hate it, cause there’s no background, there’s no emotion, but it’s pWP with rafael barba and people are ALL for it, meanwhile the super emotional piece I spent HOURS doing gets nothing cause its not a popular character)

Secondly, you do have to wait a bit before you stuff starts getting picked up and reblogged/shared/etc.

Also, requests are a hard thing to dabble into. When i first started writing, I found multiple prompt lists, wrote down like, 100 of them that I liked, and as I went through them, I would note who/the situation I thought would work best with them and just wrote....slowly I had one person come to me with some asks/prompts for series, and then I started coming up with ideas on my own. All of us started out small and grew to where we are now. As for the getting requests when ppl are closed, sometimes the requester doesn’t see the home page, or doesn’t care, or they don’t think they’re closed cause the ask box is still open. Also it’s important to share a prompt list when you’re asking for requests, and make sure you have info in your bio/pinned post about what fandoms/ships/characters/reader inserts or not that you write for. There have been plenty of times I’ve clicked on someone’s “send req’s” posts only to find NO info on any of that and I lose interest because why bother sending them something they won’t write?/will roll their eyes at?

I get the wanting to get the gratification from likes/reblogs, and sometimes, it hits, and sometimes it just doesn’t. You just have to keep going, add to your work list, add to your fandoms that you want to write for. It may take a long time for that kinda stuff to start increasing followers/reblogs to your blog. It’s also totally okay to reblog your own work! I do it at least once as a time zone reblog, and usually randomly again down the road when I’m re-reading something.

You ARE good enough, trust me, in every sense of the term. Just keep writing, there are plenty of people out there who struggle with the written word, or who English isn’t their first language, and believe me, it’s my only language and I struggle with it ALL the time. It’s a bullshit language. Use resources when you need/want to, otherwise, fuck it, post it. If people don’t want to read it, fuck them. You’re putting time and effort into a creative outlet, and that’s important.

Also...let the thought of “getting big” completely leave your head. Maybe its the old ass in me, maybe it’s the fact that I was at the PEAK of the rise of instagram, I literally watched it rise and watched myself go through various phases of instagram fame. There’s nothing cool about it, same with any kind of social media fame, especially tumblr. Other sites you can earn money off, you cant do that here, there is NOTHING wrong with being a small blog, and you’re not going to gain anything by being “big”. I’d always much rather have a small following and have more interacations with said followers than anything else.

Just keep going. It’s worth it, trust me. 💜

[m00nbab3y]

This is a PSA for ANYONE suffering from Bulimia, purging (no matter if it’s just for attention or is completely real because in the end eating disorder or you doing it for attention the effects won’t change and that’s what this post is about, the real effects from bulimic/eating disorder behaviors) (you do NOT need to be diagnosed with a eating disorder to be doing the dangerous behaviors which I wanna be very clear on. I do not support self diagnosing or faking a mental illness this is souly for anyone who’s doing the behaviors to know what it a majority of the time leads to) they might have a eating disorder/Bulimia

(Please no judgement I just really feel like I need to share this) (trigger warning)

The first two pictures are of my teeth (I used a effect on my camera so it would be more detailed but it also makes my teeth look way more yellow than they actually are and because I can’t fit my whole phone in my mouth you really can’t see the whole extent of it on the back of my teeth) (3rd pic is just how gum recession looks compared to a normal tooth)

I have had Bulimia for around 2.5 years with on and off purging. A couple months ago I noticed my bottom incisors (front teeth) were looking weird but I wasn’t that worried or anything I just tried taking better care of my teeth but each month since it’s seemed to get worse and worse and I now am starting to have noticeable gum recession. The thing that prompted me to post this was earlier tonight I had my mouth closed and I could feel the recession on the back of my teeth with my tongue and can now feel a way lower part of my two bottom front teeth that I would never have been able to feel if I had no gum recession. The circled part in the second photo looks like it’s just tarter (mostly from the angle) but it’s actually a way lower part of my teeth. I always have known these could be potentioal affects from things like health class, research, etc. but I had a ignorance that I feel like a lot of people have towards these things (which is ok we all been in least one of those type of situations) “oh it won’t ever happen to me” So I want everyone who sees this to know Bulimia is not just a game to get skinny and that the effects like this along w plenty others are real and will more likely happen then they won’t. I’m only 16 years old I’ll be 17 in February and I’m scared I’m gonna be losing my front teeth partially because of my ignorance and I don’t think that’s ok and I don’t know if I can fix it. I’ve become so self conscious to just open my mouth, smile or even laugh. I’ve been called out on it a couple time because I was laughing or smiling w a friend. I don’t want anyone else to feel that way I know this isn’t going to cure ppls eating disorders or anything but if I can at least help a little explaining my situation I’m good with that. I would also like to add I know this is in no way the most serious thing Bulimia does to people but it’s still really scary for me.

Again please no judgment this was just my “story” and it does make me emotional. It was really hard to write all this so if anyone who sees this knows anything abt what I can do abt this please message me.

I hope no ones sees this as my trying to get attention or clout because I’m not. I just don’t want people suffering from Bulimia (or any ofthrt eating disorder this is just from my experience) to be ignorant and know this can and more likely will happen. If anyone needs to talk my inbox is always open but I do not in anyway support eating disorders so please don’t take this post as that.

If you or anyone you know is experiencing symptoms of a eating disorder please please please get help for yourself or them before it’s to late. Eating disorders are deadly and the effects are horrible so please if you or anyone who youu think could have one please reach out to them but along with saying that be respective of their privacy and don’t just completely ambush them cuz in some ways it can and has been trigging (to me) so be gentle with the topic.

Finally if you’re a person faking a eating disorder I beg you please stop before it becomes a reality and there’s irreversible damage on your body. But the glamorization put on eating dirsorders recently in the media is twisted if you need attention become a drama Channel or sum don’t invalidate the people really struggling with them.

(If You’re having any of these effects and need to talk or have questions I am researching treatments so if you have questions abt what I found on professional treatments I can try and tell u what Iknow, I’m in no way claiming to be a doctor or dentist what I find out is from research. But I did find apparently there are things I can at least try to do to help I’ll try some home remedies and if anyone wants it I can try them and post them on here.)

Thank u so much for reading all this if u did, stay safe everyone you’re all gorgeous human beings even if you don’t see it now <3

-👼🏼lena

Edit: I will edit this post when I have updates.

1. I made a dentist appointment for next week

[andysnorwayaffairs]

9.8.19

TW: mention of sexual violence/abuse/assault + violence

TLDR; ppl who do awful, violent, harmful things should not be excused for their actions. they should be held accountable. HOWEVER, i (alongside the view of prison abolitionists) don’t believe that prison nor police are the answer.

Visiting the police station was a really odd experience for me. I felt extremely guarded and distraught, knowing what power the police have in the U.S. I am aware that the police presence in Norway is much different and much less violent, but I couldn’t shake off that odd feeling. From my experience in my studies this past year and uncovering what police and prison are (perpetrators of violence and oppression), I still see these things as embedded in systems of power, no matter where they are. Nothing is ever neutral. Even if police ARE more progressive in Norway, they still have the ability to abuse power, and the system easily allows police to do so. Even if prison is exponentially better in Norway, I still don’t believe it’s right to lock anyone away. Yes, even if they’ve enacted horrific violence and pain. As a believer in prison abolition, I always think there is another way to treat and value human life, and there ESPECIALLY should be better ways to cultivate healing (for EVERYONE involved) than incarceration. How does incarceration help anyone? An example being, the police attorney we talked to told us about how these folks who had murdered others some time ago are now out walking. Those who are affected by the violence are still probably hurting, and while you can claim “justice” has been served, now there are folks out and about who have literally killed, and have had years taken away from them (that doesn’t sound like a recipe for success...). And as long as there is a system that allows for the locking away and taking away of freedom and the devaluing of human life, black and brown people will always be targeted more than anyone else. How can that ever be justified?

***TW: sexual violence/ assault. Even arguing that we must lock away those who enact violence, the worst of the worst in society, ie murderers and ppl who enact sexual violence and such, allowing prison for anyone still perpetrates the systems of oppression that target those who are less privileged. Always. i.e. - justice is never really “served” anyways. Think about all the cishet white men who are released within a few months after sexual assault. Is that justice? I understand and hear how unfair it is for them to only serve so little after doing so much harm, but in those instances it is the patriarchy and white supremacy that is allowing these men to be free. Talking about prison abolition takes longer than one Tumblr post... check out this website founded by folx like Angela Davis and Ruth Wilson Gilmore that has plenty of information and FAQs! http://criticalresistance.org/resources/the-abolitionist-toolkit/

It was so interesting talking to my coffee date on Saturday evening because they expressed similar views on the police and prison that I had. As someone who lives in a comparatively much more peaceful place like Norway (as opposed to where I am from), I wondered what prompted them to see the underlying systems at play, since in the U.S. they are so unfortunately obvious? They told me that the police still target poc more, of course, and that the police are violent at protests. (They mentioned that they are involved in activism here.) That can definitely be a place to see these workings of power more clearly, since protestors are inherently against the state and against the status quo, and the police are protectors of the state and the status quo. The police protect Nazis, even here, my new friend told me. 

For my final project, I intend to compile all of my experiences and what I’ve learned from the queer people I have met here. I’m still uncertain about what kind of format my project will be in. I haven’t taken any pictures of the actual people I have interacted with, and that does feel too personal to do so. I am thinking about putting all of my thoughts down into some more journal entries and perhaps making a separate page with all of those queer experiences specifically. I do believe that I got a very specific view and experience of this place because of my queer positionality and being able to meet and bond with other queer folx because of our shared experiences. I tend to trust queer people more, and with that allow myself to be more open and vulnerable, and perhaps this lets me have such emotionally charged experiences with people. I had met so many wonderful people these past two weeks and feel like I have truly gained friends, even if the experiences were brief. Not to say that the only reason why I had these experiences was because of my queerness or because of other people’s queerness! It is the way I live and walk through the world, however, and I believe does influence how I interact with other people. The nonbinary friend I had met that sparked all of this lent me an “in” into their life, and for that I am so grateful. I had been extended so much kindness from them and their friends. (to prove my point, some of their friends are straight and very lovely people!) For my project, however, I am interested in how queer people move through space here, and how the neoliberal aura of this place affects their queer experience. I will include a detailed log of how this compares to my own experience and to the experiences of some people I know back home. Since I haven’t talked to many folx here, I don’t intend this to be comprehensive at all. I recognize that experiences are personal and do not reflect the entirety of any population, but the excellent thing about personal experiences is that they can give us a glimpse into how a few people’s lives are affected by the structures and norms that we’ve learned about at play in this particular place and time.