#not myself being the blog i reblogged from most

[tatumsversion13]

possible TW abuse, necrophilia, pro shipping

please read // accusation of being pro ship and engaging with necro fanfiction

I just came across this and I feel like I need to adress some things.

first of all, I DO NOT condone any glamorization of abuse or necrophilia and it upsets me that some people might think otherwise. I’ve created this account two weeks ago to try and connect with others who enjoy Scream just as much as I do but also as a form to inspire myself through fanfic, fanart, etc. When I’m outside or busy, I tend to mass like posts without further checking the tags or what they’re really about (which is probably not the brightest idea) so I can come back and read them later on. Apparently I’ve liked a fic that contained necrophilia. I was not aware that I had liked it but I’m glad someone brought it to my attention! It was 100% unintentional and I am not interested in reading stuff like that. I should’ve known better and double check before liking posts but I never realised it could be a bad idea because I honestly trusted my algorithm to not show me that kind of content. I didn’t even know people were writing about stuff like that. I understand the confusion but it was definitely not intentional. I apologise for any harm of confusion that may have caused.

pro shipping :

Assuming anon defines pro shipping as a person being okay with the shipping of different fictional characters whether they’re canon or not: honestly I don’t really understand the issue with this. Since when is pro shipping a bad thing? I mean the main reason this blog exists is because of a ship..? I only reblog stuff about stu x billy since that’s the only ship I care about regarding Scream (not including gale and dewey i mean they’re cute but idrc). After all those are FICTIONAL characters?? Most of the people I follow are stuilly shippers and the actors themselves openly talk about shipping their own characters? Besides, why would I care if people have other ships, as long as none if it glorifies things like pedophilia and/or abuse (and no, no matter how toxic, in my opinion and from the fanfics I’ve read so far, Stu and Billy’s relationship does not glorify abuse since all of their intimate acts are consensual).

If you consider pro shipping as shipping without limits (ignoring, condoning or glamorizing abuse, pedophila, necrophilia etc. that’s definitely NOT something I would EVER read or approve.

For the rest, I could care less about other people’s interests in fan FICTION (again, as long as they don’t contain any if the things I just mentioned). Feel free to correct me if I forgot something.

misogyny :

I made a post joking about how I don’t like Sidney in Scream 1/still hold a grudge against her. Not liking a character in a fictional movie does not make me misogynistic and I can’t believe I have to explain that. I absolutely adore Sidney’s character throughout the Scream franchise but I have no problem admitting that I did not like her in Scream 1996 for the simple fact that she killed my favourite characters (and she was just annoying). I know she had to defend herself and it’s a movie. Not liking a fictional character is never that deep and it doesn’t have anything to do with Neve.

Anyways, this is not what I expected to see when I came on here and I’m sorry if this sounds a bit defensive, i’m just tired of people acting like they know anything about others without confronting the person first but I am glad I’ve been made aware and I’ll pay attention to the content I engage with in the future! I hope this cleared things up and I’m sorry again.

P.S. If you have any issues with me regarding something I’ve said or engaged with, I would prefer if you dmed me so we can talk about it personally. Thank you for reading!

[tk-fandom-stuff]

I need to talk about this because this discourse has been deeply upsetting to see as someone who's been in the community since I myself was a minor

I've been in the tickle community since I was in middle school, my blog has never and will NEVER be a sexual/kinky account because tickling is something that makes me, a touch starved audhd person, safe and happy. As op said, is tickling sexual or grooming when a parent is tickling their child? Absolutely NOT. And sure there are people who view it as a sexual and/or kink thing and that's okay! But it is not okay to kick minors out of a community because you can't separate sexual stuff from a genuine bonding experience.

Let me tell you a story about a girl. This girl, a mere 12 years old at the time, was bullied by her peers, struggled to make friends, only really had a few friends, and struggled with self worth and suicidal thoughts. This girl, like most do, found the internet as an escape from the world and her thoughts. It was at this age that she discovered tickling. The idea that you could have a bonding experience that's sweet and good and pure that inherently makes people happy made her feel really awesome, she loved the community of talented writers and artists and found tickling to be a better escape from the world than most other media. This little girl was me. Sure I'm not a girl anymore, and I'm doing significantly better mentally, but I still find tickling as a way of cheering myself up when I'm down and also just whenever!

Also, I feel it's important to mention, minors getting run out of places that are specifically for them is also very very common. Is it fair to children to have to avoid something that makes them happy just because some people like it sexually? My little pony comes to mind, that is a children's show, and yet the fandom space is hostile to minors because people don't tag their nsfw correctly.

We shouldn't be focused on infighting and running minors out of a harmless community that makes them feel safe and happy, especially when there are less and less spaces for minors to exist freely. We should be focused on ensuring that their time in the sfw community is safe and keeping them out of the nsfw community (even though they're also responsible for staying out and avoiding nsfw accounts you nsfw tickle blogs need to tag things appropriately and make it clear that you're a nsfw account so they know to avoid you).

Also, on the subject of Lee, Ler, and Switch. These are all terms that have been in the sfw community for a long time, since before I was even part of the community. Yeah okay they originated as kink terms, but they're not always used that way and acting like terms can't be used for more than one thing is kind of baffling

A bit of a bonus ramble of mine from a discord server im in, roughly a year ago. I've talked about this subject before and I will continue to advocate for minors being allowed in the sfw tickle community (the subject of agere/petre is one for another day, but it's just as important to talk about)

Tldr: tickling isn't only sexual or kink (though its okay if someone view it like that), it's something I've enjoyed and thats made me happy since I was 12, and we need to stop pushing minors out of the few safe spaces they have

I'm open to discussion on this as long as you stay civil, if you get in my inbox/reblog this and are hostile and rude I will delete the ask/block you. It doesn't make you look better if you're being an asshole.

I might talk more about this later but I'm busy today so this is all I'll say for now

About the SFW vs NSFW situation that's going on right now.

I know I'm not active much nowadays and I already commented on one of the posts involved, but if you'll allow me to get on my soapbox for a bit:

I'd like to explain mine and a lot of other people's stance on this, personally, as someone who has:

Enjoyed tickling and fantasized about it since about the age of 5

Enjoys it currently in both SFW and NSFW contexts

Does not allow minors on their blog

Is currently in school and studying psychology

Recently gave a presentation and is writing a paper about how kinks and trauma correlate

From how I've looked into this situation thus far, I see that another person made the very wild generalization that all people who enjoy tickling enjoy it as a sexual kink. I want to make it known to anyone who is reading this that this claim is not true.

(Important note: DO NOT HARASS THIS PERSON. IF YOU HARASS THIS PERSON, YOU ARE PART OF THE PROBLEM AND YOU ARE BULLIES. I DO NOT TOLERATE BULLIES ON THIS BLOG.)

Tickling is a sensory activity. It is a bonding thing that occurs in the animal kingdom (not just humans) often between familial connections and friendships. This is the norm in the human world; parents lovingly tickle their children, siblings and friends get into tickle fights, partners tickle each other -- it's a normal thing. These activities are not inherently sexual. When my parents tickled me and my brother when we were little, that was not sexual abuse or incest. When a classmate of mine was gang-tickled in the back of the classroom, his friends weren't suspended for sexual behavior in a school setting. Everyone in both of those situations were enjoying what was going on, but nobody was aroused. That shouldn't have to be said.

An important note on this, however, is that sexual abuse can happen this way -- it's not the only way, nor is it an inherent quality of the activity, but it does happen. I just wanted to preface that, because if someone touching you makes you uncomfortable in any way, you have a right to tell them to stop and to get angry if they don't.

The important thing when it comes to determining whether a scenario is kinky or not is based on consent and any potential arousal involved. For example, take the concept of a foot kink. Say a person asks for a foot massage. Just because foot kinks exist doesn't mean that person has a foot kink. And, even if they do, it depends on why they ask: are they asking because they want foreplay, or are they asking because they had a hard day at work and their feet are sore? It's similar with tickling -- I enjoy it in both contexts, so I can be aroused by it; however, this doesn't happen if I ask for it or otherwise seek it out because I'm looking for comfort. My partner will tickle me in more sexually intimate situations, but he will also do so if I've been having a bad day or if he wants to be playful with me, and it does not immediately or always arouse me -- only in the right and comfortable context.

Let's look at the sensory-seeking side. A lot of people in the SFW tickling community are diagnosed with or believe they have ADHD, autism, or both. I do as well. Looking at the science behind it, it makes sense: ADHD and autism are both disorders that alter the way that someone perceives physical sensory input. Given that tickling is an inherently innocent bonding activity that is playful and involves (hopefully) consensual sensory, it makes sense that a fixation could/would form and sensory-seeking behaviors would occur. This is a good explanation for anyone who was seeking tickling in some way as a child but has never/didn't at the time feel sexual about it.

And as far as sexual interest does go: kinks often form as a coping mechanism, and yes, they CAN be non-sexual or occur in non-sexual manners. So, again, tickling is not always a sexual thing for people.

Now to get into the nitty-gritty of the claims this person was making and their personal input:

This person claimed that if you cannot/do not want to show your tickling fixation to your friends, boss, and family, then it means it's kinky and that's why you're embarassed.

First of all, I wouldn't show any fanart or fanfiction to my boss, dickass. You think I'm giving them ammo that easily? HELL NO.

For my family, I don't feel comfortable doing that because I have a long history of my personal technology privacy being invaded. I also don't want them following me, same way I don't want them following my main Tumblr account.

But as far as friends go, I have shown my fanfiction to my partner and one of my friends (another person I know IRL found my blog after that); I am slowly working my way up to being comfortable enough to show other people I am close to. I keep it under wraps for a lot of reasons:

I hold myself very seriously and elegantly IRL and this entire blog juxtaposes that

A lot of my highschool life involved drama and tension, and I am very lucky that there were certain people I refrained from showing

I was also a victim of bullying as the "weird kid" and one of the only openly queer people in my grade, and I didn't want any ammo to be given to the people harassing me

And, perhaps most importantly,

It gets commonly mistaken as ALWAYS a fetish online, and people who don't understand that harass the creators of tickling art and fanfiction; I can handle that online by blocking as I please, but IRL?

We've all seen people talk about hating tickling, how "it's abuse, actually," how our community (fetish or not) is "gross" and "weird" and full of creeps. Think about the tickle Picrew's creator (a minor!) getting harassed on Twitter, which spread to them trying to bully SFW creators on Tumblr. Think about people cringing over tickle scenes. Think about the way that otomiyaa's writing breached containment and prompted negative comments. Almost all of us have seen this harassment happen or experienced it ourselves -- why put ourselves in that situation with IRL people, where it can be even more damaging to hear?

Moving on:

This creator also stated that any tickling blogs that talk to minors are either pedophiles or fostering a "safe space" for them to breed; they doubled down on this by saying that they were groomed, and that this community (again generalizing to everyone) let it happen by turning a blind eye

They then were called many things, including a pedophile, by harassers

Listen. I don't allow minors on this blog. But that's not because this is a tickling blog. It's because I don't like talking to children (this includes IRL, by the way) because it personally weirds me out; I have no reason to talk to them.

But the MAIN reason is because I have a history of minors pushing my boundaries -- not the other way around -- which gave me a sour relationship with this blog and my writing. That's why I haven't posted a fic in years. However, if a minor comes to this blog, I am not going to immediately groom them -- that's not how that works. And if a minor comes to this blog looking for help, I will help them.

Additionally, generalizing every SFW adult in this community as a pedophile because you didn't receive help when you needed it most is not a healthy way to cope with trauma. I am sorry that it happened, but I was either not in the community or a minor when it happened; that does not make me a bystander now just because I'm a SFW adult here. This goes for everyone who was not there or could not have done something at the time.

One groomer also does not mean that every adult here is/could be one. That is a horrific generalization to make. If that were the right generalization, then that would mean that every adult ever with any kink should never, EVER talk to children or they're a pedo. Do you see how misaligned that is?

I don't agree with the people who were harassing this blogger, including on the pedophile claim. I do have to say, though, that the horror and disgust that this person likely felt at being called that is exactly what they just put a lot of people through. It also does not negate the valid criticisms of those who respectfully spoke up. Something to dwell on.

Bottom line is -- and I don't say this to be demeaning -- that this person could genuinely benefit from some introspection, a break from the kink community, or both. It is not okay to label an entire SFW community as pedos because you were groomed by one person. It is not okay to generalize every person who likes tickling as a kinkster just because you are. Don't make sweeping generalizations. Period.

For anyone who felt hurt and confused by the claims this person made, please know that you are not alone (I was dealing with the same thing because of a different artist a while back); please also know that you don't have to label yourself as anything that you don't want to. As long as you aren't hurting anyone, you are valid and welcome here.

[jinxed-ninjago]

I posted 590 times in 2022

That's 590 more posts than 2021!

420 posts created (71%)

170 posts reblogged (29%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@jayce-posting-ninjago

@destinysbounty

@fires-of-ninjago

@spicyicymeloncat

@chaotic-bumblebee-agenda

I tagged 472 of my posts in 2022

Only 20% of my posts had no tags

#lego ninjago - 403 posts

#ninjago - 402 posts

#ninjago jay - 88 posts

#jay walker - 87 posts

#ninjago cole - 73 posts

#cole brookstone - 73 posts

#ninjago kai - 58 posts

#kai smith - 57 posts

#ninjago zane - 55 posts

#zane julien - 53 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#the idea of lloyd leading the team when they’re on missions then everything breaking down into absolute chaos at the monastery is great tho

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

FUN FACT.

If you watch Zane in this clip, you can really tell he has no concept of social cues.

When Jay and Lloyd start to get nervous, Zane looks at them in an almost confused way, almost like he doesn’t understand that they probably shouldn’t have been listening in on Nya and Maya’s conversation (this is further backed up with Zane bluntly saying “Yes, we did” and then continuing to be confused when that response makes Jay upset). The only reason he has a nervous expression is because he’s mimicking Jay and Lloyd.

Basically Zane is heavily autism coded and it makes me incredibly happy.

419 notes - Posted October 14, 2022

#4

Ninjago characters and nicknames they call other people

Cole and Kai probably call everyone babe. Idk. It just works lol. Cole does it just because and Kai does it because he’s flirtatious as fuck.

Nya probably goes around calling people “bitch” and “motherfucker” all the time. She’ll just go up to Jay randomly and affectionately go “hey bitch” and walk away. Jay is her favorite person to call “bitch” because of how flustered he gets.

I’ve mentioned this before but Zane refers to everyone as “love” because he likes to remind people that he cares about them.

Lloyd probably calls everyone either asshole, bro, bruh, or bestie. It all depends on his mood. So if he greets you with something like “hey asshole” you’ll know he’s fed up with the team’s bullshit and he probably got ambushed with dart/water guns at breakfast.

Jay just nervously refers to everyone as either bestie or fren. Unless you’re Fugi-Dove levels of annoying. Then he calls you “an annoying bastard.”

577 notes - Posted October 22, 2022

#3

Ninjago characters and the dumbest stuff they’ve definitely done because I’m bored

Jay has definitely taken a toaster somewhere near water just to prove a point about his powers, like I’m 99.9999% certain he’s done it. Let’s just say he’s lucky he’s more resistant to electricity than most other people.

I don’t know why but I got the idea that Zane threw himself into lava at some point to prove how strong titanium is. He succeeded because titanium’s melting point is 3,304 degrees Fahrenheit and the temperature of lava is significantly lower. His inner wiring certainly didn’t survive so Jay and/or Nya had to completely replace multiple wires and gears.

Kai and Nya at some point went into a forest so they could practice their elements. Kai started a forest fire that very quickly got out of control and they had to call the fire department to get it taken care of. And yes, Kai got in trouble for arson.

Lloyd has definitely blown up his room with his powers a few times. Purposely? Who knows, certainly not everyone else who lives at the monastery.

Wu has canonically held back information until it’s important multiple times and seeing as Andreasen said it’d likely get the ninja killed someday, yeah we’re calling Wu’s withholding of information the dumbest thing he’s ever done

More will probably come later, I just wanted to share these lol

632 notes - Posted July 16, 2022

#2

Side affects of Kai, Cole, Jay, and Zane’s powers because I’m bored or something

Kai’s almost constantly hungry. Fire needs to be fed on a near constant basis, and this made its way into Kai. Kai’s aquaphobia also comes from being the master of fire, since water puts out fire (I mentioned this in my “How different weather affects the elemental masters of creation” post). He also has a higher body temperature than an average human, so it takes a little longer for a fever to get to emergency levels for him. He also heats up the area around him if he’s upset.

While Jay has a higher tolerance for being electrocuted compared to other people, he’s not immune to it. If he’s not careful, he can electrocute himself to the point of going to the ER (this is mildly supported by Jay being able to shock himself awake when he’s asleep). Being electrokinetic also means he can control electrical signals in his nervous system; sometimes this is a good thing, sometimes it’s a bad thing (as controlling electrical signals means he will not hesitate to cut off the electrical signals that cause pain, and y’know, pain exists for a reason). This is canon but if he’s upset he also starts sparking (although I like to think it happens if he gets super excited too).

Cole is technically geo-thermokinetic, and not exclusively geokinetic. He’s partially immune to being burned by small amounts of lava/magma, but if he was to, for example, try to swim in it, he’d still end up with at least second degree burns, if not third degree burns. He also has scars where his arms turn to magma when he uses his Earth Punch ability.

Zane had to learn how to properly control his powers after he rebuilt himself. If he got too upset, it’d mess up his internal mechanics, and he’d end up in the Samurai X cave being taken care of by either Nya or Jay. If he’s upset, the surrounding area’s temperature drastically decreases, to the point of needing to wear a jacket around if he’s upset for longer than a few minutes.

1,059 notes - Posted September 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

The funniest thing about the ninja being color coded to me is the fact that they’re color coded down to their underwear and, as of season 11, weapons.

So basically:

Kai’s katana has red accents:

Jay’s kusarigama has blue accents:

See the full post

1,345 notes - Posted October 28, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[kidfur]

Still debating if i should make my blog chrono adult to follow.. i dont rember if any of my mutuals are chrono minors but considering itd be more for a comfort thing rather than a content rule thing (mostly? but i mean i still reblog mildly suggestive stuff sometimes regardless) so i could just say current mutuals are ok

[trees-can-draw]

Hm.

[wolpatinga]

[sunlightfeeling]

gonna maybe be away for a lil bit (I say maybe because it really depends on my brain’s temperment)

currently fighting some darkness atm that won’t fucking stop (I’m okay, though, I swear, but its been all fucking day and I need to sleep and I can’t because thoughts)

leave a message after the beep

[white-cat-of-doom]

I posted 2,327 times in 2022

827 posts created (36%)

1,500 posts reblogged (64%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@the-cat-at-the-theatre-door

@munku-collar

@white-cat-of-doom

@sillybub

@cassandra-has-moonlit-eyes

I tagged 2,321 of my posts in 2022

#cats the musical - 2,288 posts

#cats musical - 2,287 posts

#cats us tour 6 - 356 posts

#jellylorum - 262 posts

#victoria - 260 posts

#demeter - 253 posts

#bombalurina - 247 posts

#cats rccl cast 12 - 244 posts

#cats uk tour 2022 - 232 posts

#cats international tour 2022 - 230 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#part of me wants to change my avatar to one of these pieces but i cannot bring myself to take away the 2019 rumple i have had for two years

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Today is the day! The Il Sistina production of CATS opens tonight (07 December 2022) in Rome!

Below are some more specific character photos, outside of larger group photos.

Jacopo Pelliccia as Gatto Giò (Bustopher Jones, a separate character in this production).

Photos taken by Gianluca Sarago.

Gaia Soprano as Cassandra.

See the full post

133 notes - Posted December 7, 2022

#4

Everyone generally knows what the Rumpus Cat looks like in traditional productions, right? A bit silly, with funky hair and red eyes.

Meanwhile in Japan, the modern Rumpus Cat looks like this:

The hero we never knew we needed.

(Fukuoka 2021, January 2022; Kenshin Mori as Rumpus Cat, Miki Okudaira as Jellylorum, Eiko Kataoka as Rumpleteazer, Yuki Takahashi as Old Deuteronomy, Taijun Kanemoto as Munkustrap, and Yurie Sato as Bombalurina. Almost fully hidden is Haruaki Tamai as Mungojerrie.)

141 notes - Posted February 21, 2022

#3

Rehearsals have started for the production of CATS at Teatro Sistina in Italy, starting 07 December 2022, an officially licensed non-replica from RUG.

The designs are interesting in that they have reference sheets for both the makeup and costume.

See the full post

149 notes - Posted November 9, 2022

#2

The promotional pictures for the UK/International Tour 2022 have been posted!

See the full post

181 notes - Posted May 31, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I never uploaded these pictures last year, so I figured now would be a fun time to celebrate Pride Month again. Who better than with my favourite cast of Cats in Vienna?

See the full post

192 notes - Posted June 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[thnksfrthmmrs]

I posted 5,485 times in 2022

That's 5,485 more posts than 2021!

899 posts created (16%)

4,586 posts reblogged (84%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@thnksfrthmmrs

@thekidsarentalright

@ybcpatrick

@haylewilliams

@celestialtoy

I tagged 4,466 of my posts in 2022

Only 19% of my posts had no tags

#fob - 1,463 posts

#patrick - 788 posts

#op - 596 posts

#fanart - 368 posts

#pete - 352 posts

#asks - 281 posts

#abt me - 255 posts

#the owl house - 223 posts

#paramore - 187 posts

#srar era - 184 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#and ‘girl’ or ‘boy’ or ‘guy’ or whatever doesn’t count. that’s the equivalent of asking someone their pronouns and getting ‘i’m a girl’ as a

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

See the full post

415 notes - Posted November 11, 2022

#4

+ transparent:

425 notes - Posted November 28, 2022

#3

See the full post

441 notes - Posted October 9, 2022

#2

x

509 notes - Posted October 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

See the full post

799 notes - Posted October 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[aromantic-pantyanarchy]

It's me. I'm the cis, heterosexual, aromantic man. I will never marry, I will never be married, I will grow into middle age and elder age and I will die unmarried. I will be forced to support a household of myself on only my wages alone for the rest of my life. I will be asked about women and marriage and children by my family for the rest of my life (or men, the progressive ones might say). I may not ever come out to them. I feel like I burned my coming out on something stupid. I don't want to explain it. I don't want to run them through the definitions and intricacies. I don't want the acceptance without understanding, placating me with ceased questions and poor explanations to other, drunk adults.

I like my hair to be long, I spent a year with it dyed a golden blonde with dark roots because I like the trashy party girl aesthetic. I want to dye it again with pink tips. I like painting my nails, black and blue are my favorite colors. I like wearing chokers. I also like wearing baggy jeans and ratty hoodies. I like having stubble. I like having chest hair. I like having a square jaw and broad shoulders. I wish I had a flatter stomach and a thinner profile frame. I don't know what this makes me, perhaps this is something no more GNC than Machine Gun Kelly. I think about this a lot, how queer my appearance truly is. I should think about it less. I have thought long and hard about if I could be trans or if I could be non-binary or if I could be genderqueer and the conclusion I ultimately came to is that I most enjoy being a man open to whatever self-expression I want.

I don't date, but I've thought about it. I would like to meet people, and I would like to have sex with them. But I don't want to hurt them. I fear if I explain what I am beforehand it'll scare them away. I fear if I explain after they'll feel manipulated or abused. I don't know how many people in the dating scene want what I want. I fear my own lack of experience will make me a bad lay, an embarrassing story to tell to confidants in hindsight. I fear my own virginity, a boundary to those I wish to be like. All of these fears are baseless, as I've not been able to even begin a single relationship in my life. Despite this I still heavily identify with terms like "slut" and "manwhore" and "thot" because my interests lay so deeply within casual sex, sex without great intimacy or emotion. This may be some form of stolen valor. I hope the true sluts are not too mad at me.

I made this blog several years ago because a mutual of mine reblogged memes making fun of aro and ace people, making fun of the concept of aphobia, and in addition well known aphobes. I didn't feel comfortable talking about aro stuff on my main blog, for as little as I talk about it. Living through the ace discourse of the 2016 era has largely caused me to cringe in embarrassment any time I am forced to discuss my orientation with people who aren't aro or ace themselves. I no longer follow this person. I unfollowed many people I was mutuals with from that time, most of them because they posted too often about how much they hated men and I didn't want to see that, some because our interests simply drifted too far apart, only one for explicit aphobia reasons. (Also one because they became a "both sides are bad, any vote is wasted" libertarian, but that's unrelated.)

I guess at this point I don't care deeply about what strangers on the internet think of me. If a trusted friend told me that they don't think I'm truly queer that may hurt. But I am going to continue to use the word for myself. I take up no resources. I go to events that are open to me. If an event was not open to me, I think I'd not want to go anyways. I am not a hypothetical, I am not a strawman, I am a person with lived experiences both within and exterior to the queer community. If you hate me, I will permit you to continue to do so. But ultimately, I am who I am, I cannot change these facts, and I would not choose to do so even if I could.

[euniexenoblade]

since we're talking about call outs lately, i've been called out many times, most of which are made from lies and sometimes by altering screenshots, but the most effective call out i ever got was like, in early 2015 there was a tumblr user everyone knew was a terf, but she would say "actually i support trans women" this was before crypto terfs were as talked about so the language wasn't really there to say "hey this person is a crypto terf." but yeah some people put posts of this woman on my dash and i made a random post on my blog "why do yall reblog her shes a terf" and of course she searches her own name daily, found my post, and replied to it that me calling her a terf was racist. that was it. no other interaction. but she went on all night talking about me being racist and just making things up as she went "oh i bet she says the n word all the time irl" kind of shit that had, like no basis? But her follower base took it 100% and i literally had thousands of anons telling me to kill myself, trying to goad me into being racist (didnt work), and the most concerning thing was i got hundreds of anons being like "what was the point of doing hrt if you still look like that, you should kill yourself." It was like, violent and overwhelming. and on top of it I'd get random young teenager trans people who followed her and bought into her bioessentialism showing up in my messages being like "you give trans people a bad name" "you're why transphobia exists" etc etc it was fucking crazy.

but i lost like, no followers because everyone around me understood, this woman was a terf. this all set up the real one though.

later in the year a teenage "communist" trans girl made some snarky comment about me being racist on a post of mine blowing up. i ignored her cuz like, who cares it's just some random teenager. but i guess people were looking for a reason to hate me cuz that blew up, lots of people just took that at face value no need to investigate. when someone finally did send the girl an ask being like "hey how is she racist" she replied "I dont remember but I know she is" and even more people just took this as 100%. the thing is, i do remember her being one of those "you make trans people look bad" terf following young trans people, it's not that she didn't remember, it's that she didnt want to admit she followed a terf and she believed a terf just saying shit. I lost like 3/4s of my followers, i had a lot of people i thought were my friends just stop talking to me, and going forward every time i got a call out there would usually be a line of like "also she's racist, everyone already knows this" all cuz this girl needed to make a snarky comment cuz she just loves terfs.

the thing about the "i dont remember" bit is it made some weird game of telephone. "I dont remember" became "oh she's racist, i think she says the n word" which became "she called black bloggers the n word" like people just made shit up about me and connected it to this call out. and when id be like this isnt true id be met with a "this is just known, youre a known racist" and it's like, to this day i will still find people be like "hey good on you for growing as a person and not doing that any more" and its like I NEVER DID IT TO BEGIN WITH

[ramp-it-up]

Anatomy of a Kiss

Summary: You and Logan agree on one thing: you both hate each other. So what happens when you kiss him?

Word count: 4.2 K

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. S MUT Not Beta’d. ONE DEADPOOL X WOLVERINE SPOILER AHEAD! Read at your own risk. S MUT! Enemies to lovers; snark to fluff, idiots in love; use of the words stupid, dumb, insipid as insults. Reader's father is either a mobster or a mutant villain, or both; (Reader may or may not be a mutant herself), a couple dark themes and mention of parent death; Reader has Daddy issues; Reader is a thicc girlie; Princess and Old Man as nicknames; there are two slaps; a tipsy kiss; povs switch thorughout the fic. pining; insinuations of masturbation, oral (f receiving), spitting, praise and degredation kink, size kink, creampie, cum play, explicit sex acts, raw p in v (wrap it up) voice kink, this Logan is Dom Logan.

A/N: This was in my soul for a couple of weeks, but I don't feel it's all that great. Here goes. Let me know if you like it by reblogging, liking and commenting please. Thank you. ☺️

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

The biggest mistake that Logan Howlett ever made in his life was kissing you back.

Because now he was never going to get you out of his system. 

—--

You were celebrating.

Being being voted best small business owner and philanthropist in the city was a big fucking deal. You decided to let your hair down and let go of your famous self-control and discipline for one night.

And now you were tooted on most of a bottle of Moet and Chandon as you walked back to your high rise apartment from the civic center.

It was a perfect night and you stopped and smiled at the moon, feeling sublime. 

Until you heard his voice.

“Keep moving before I throw you over my shoulder and get you inside myself, Princess.”

You rolled your eyes at your body guard, the only thing your father offered you that you didn’t reject.

Because you weren’t stupid. 

Other than sharing his dna, you were not like your father at all, and you divested yourself of everything that had to do with him.

��What about the penthouse? You kept that.”

Your body felt engulfed as if by flames. You were angry, both at the fact that you’d apparently said all that out loud, and at Logan’s audacity.

“Fuck you, Howlett. The apartment is my mother’s. But she died because of my dad and that’s why he wants to “protect” me.”

You wobbled as you did your air quotes, and you could sense Logan ready to spring to catch you if you fell. You recovered quickly, however, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

“But he can't seem to do the one thing that will protect me. Get out of the life. He’s an old man, for heaven’s sake!”

Logan chuckled and shook his head.

“He’s not so old.”

You were in full blown argument mode.

“He’s over 70.”

“Like I said, he’s not so old. And you don’t know so much, little girl. Life is not that simple.”

“I am 32 years old, Mr. Howlett. I am not one of those little girls that fawn all over you. I am a woman.”

You straightened up and you knew that your thick body in the black cocktail dress was banging.

Logan’s eyes reflected your body, although he was staring back into yours. He’d taken it all in earlier.

“You are a teeny, tiny little Princess.”

He was fucking infuriating as he smiled down at you like that. The alcohol made you step to him.

“Someone needs to kiss that insipid smirk off your face, Howlett.”

That stupid eyebrow shot up, and your belly flipped.

Slap. You meant slap, but Logan was quicker than your champagne brain.

“I dare you, Princess.”

—-----

After what happened happened, you hightailed it back to your building, the electricity zapping around the elevator as you stared each other down. As soon as the doors opened, you moved as quickly as your tipsy legs would take through your foyer and living room and down the hallway to your bedroom door.

Logan followed you.

“Princess–”

The door slammed in his face, and he stood there for a good five minutes, restraining himself from knocking it down, before he relented and made his way back to his own room. 

He’d confront you tomorrow (later today), when you were sober.

—-

On the other side of the door, you were thinking of packing your bags and moving to South America. You needed a continent between you and Logan. How in the world had you allowed yourself to give in to a drunken urge that manifested the late night thoughts that you’d had for months? 

You were slipping. Bad.

You absolutely could not face him the next day. You leaned against the door, relieved when you heard him leave, and touched your lips. They still felt as if they were swollen from the kiss. 

You were sobering up now, remembering it. But just a few minutes ago that dare was all you needed to immediately lock your lips onto his. 

You also remembered the way he’d pulled away in shock and stared at your mouth for a beat before he grabbed your hair, pulled you close again, and kissed you so good that your toes curled.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck FUCK! Fuck my life!”

You were losing control. And that was not good. Not good at all.

—

Logan couldn’t get you out of his mind. 

And that pissed him off.

He lay in bed, and thought about how, (if he could die) under penalty of death he would never admit just how often he thought about you.

He’d been glad for the room at your place that came with the job; bunking with Wade and Althea was getting real old, real fast. 

But suddenly this arrangement felt too close for comfort.

You didn’t need to know about the fact that the movie playing behind his closed eyelids during his little shower workouts every night was your sexy smile, or the way your ass filled out your jeans. Especially those black ones.

And when he thought about you wearing those jeans with that wrap around shirt that showcased your tits just right. Well, fuck. He’d have gallons of cum for the shower drain.

Nah, you knowing that would only stroke your ego. Somehow, his mind drifted to the other things of yours that needed stroking.

“Oh, Fuck all!”

He sat up and sat on the edge of his bed, reaching for a cigar, reason number 634 why you hated him. 

But if you hated him so much, then why did you kiss him tonight?

—---

Why did you do it? You didn’t even like Logan. In fact you hated him.

Right?

You loathed the way he called you Princess, an obvious reminder that you were a trust fund baby, although you were far from a child, and to spite the fact that you were trying to make your own way.

You hated him from the top of his ridiculous thick hair, to the soles of his huge shit-kicker boot clad feet. You hated how tall and how ripped he was, the way his arm veins threaded atop the muscles there and led the way to his thick, calloused fingers that felt so nice against your skin.

You hated the chest hair that poked out from the top of the tacky tank tops and flannel shirts he always wore underneath the ever present leather jacket, and the way his blue jeans showcased the muscles in his thighs. 

And you absolutely NEVER accidentally gazed at his crotch and ascertained that he was packing.

That would be asinine.

And his stupid face. That was the kicker. Logan’s face would be handsome if he didn’t wear that ridiculous smirk all the time on that mouth that might look nice if he was normal. 

The mouth that felt nice against yours. 

That might feel nice against your…

You groaned around your toothbrush and rolled your eyes at yourself, fully sober now after a quick cold shower. But somehow your body was still warm and buzzing.

What the fuck had you done?

— 

Logan didn’t even like you.

You were bossy, irritating, loud. 

Fuck, you were loud, always chattering away to your customers, always smiling and making them feel at home. 

He absolutely loathed the way you were trying to make your own living, despite the fact that your father was loaded. Running a food truck with the best tacos in town drew hundreds of people every day and giving away a portion of your food to the unhoused every night was what irritated Logan the most. 

More people to watch.

He was sure you did it to surround him with more people to hate. He just knew that you liked pushing his buttons. 

You just reveled in being the anti-Logan.

The more he glared, the more you glowed. 

On fucking purpose.

The kicker was you cranking up the karaoke machine on Thursday nights and belting it out to Journey or REO Speedwagon. It was so annoying. 

Especially the way you closed your eyes and swayed to the music during the bridge. The happy look on your face wasn’t beautiful at all, it was simple, and he didn’t memorize every curve of your face because it was a dumb one.

He couldn’t get away, because he had three months left on the security contract your father signed with him.

It was unfortunate, because you just wouldn’t shut up.

Except when his tongue was in your mouth.

No. 

Even then, you made noises. 

Those delicious little moans that vibrated down his spine and made his dick harder with every second. Moans that made him see visions of your mouth wrapped around his cock. Moans that gave him a waking dream of you giving him head, and…

Fuck, now Logan had a raging hard on and could not sleep for the life of him. 

He really did not like you.

—--

Kissing Logan had you in a tailspin. 

You punched your pillow as you tossed and turned in bed and conjured positive thoughts.

You could forget this.

Pretend it never happened.

Convince yourself that he didn’t taste like heaven and hell and the best fucking thing in a long time.

You could forget.

It was fine.

Everything was just fucking fine. 

All you had to do was completely forget the way he made you feel when he slid his tongue into your mouth. It was easy. 

Except you were wet as fuck. 

“Listen, bitch. You are not doing me any favors right now,” you mumbled to your cunt. 

She didn't care. 

Your pussy just continued to clench on air as if to say, “He’s right down the hall. Let’s just go finish what we started.”

You groaned and tried to smother yourself with your pillow.

It didn’t work.

—-

Logan just kept thinking of the way you stared at him between kisses. Lips parted on a gasp, plump and soft, right before he'd slipped his hand on your neck and kissed you again. Now your taste haunted him.

Logan huffed and put his head in his hands. Flashes of the kiss played like a movie in his head. Finally, he stood up and went to his door, ready to settle this once and for all.

When he opened it, there you were, in just a black camisole and panties, and god, did he want you.

But there was your mouth again.

“I fucking hate you.”

The problem with that was, he could smell you. You might be saying that you hated him, but your body was calling him right now. And Logan’s knees were weak at the power of his lust.

When you looked him in the eye, you licked your lips, your eyes dilated, your nipples tightened into stiff peaks, and your pussy weeping for him, Logan knew it was the end of the line of his self-restraint.

You smelled delicious, like your mandarin orange body wash and your wet-for-him cunt. 

He stepped toward you and you slapped his face, leaving him with a grin on his face.

Then you slapped him again.

“You got it out of your system now? That anger?”

He cocked that damned eyebrow at you and moved even closer. 

“Or is it frustration?”

——

You were in trouble now.

Not because you were scared Logan was going to hurt you.

Just the opposite.

Logan dipped his head to smell at your pulse point, body so close, but never touching you. Your arms went to grab his impossible shoulders and that's when his huge paws grabbed your hips, dragging you further into his room as he backed toward his bed.

He was full on nuzzling your neck now, and your eyes were rolling as the tension between you two was finally ebbing.

The words came tumbling out.

“I’m so fucking angry that you get me so frustrated, you ass..”

You were turning your head toward his, wanting his lips again, on his lap now, crotch sat on his unbuttoned jeans, and refusing to move to ignite the fire.

Logan grunted at you.

“I see that. You’re trying to stare me down even though you are leaking all over me.”

Your body clenched and got wetter at the naming of that fact. You were terrified of what might happen next.

Yet you wanted it so badly.

——

Logan couldn’t wait any more.

He removed one hand from gripping the flesh at your hips that he’d fantasized about for months, to trailing up your cheek to your hair to take off your scarf.

His fingers were in your hair again and your eyelids stuttered as you mouth dropped open for air.

That made him so fucking hard. And it made him want to kiss you again.

He had to know.

“What are you here for, Princess?”

——

His sexy whisper would do you in.

For good.

“I don’t know.”

Logan was staring at you like you were the treasure chest at the end of a quest as you tried to remain as still as possible on his lap. It was so hard.

Logan was so hard beneath you.

“Oh? Let’s run it back to earlier when you weren’t letting that big brain of yours get in the way.”

Frustration surged within you and your mouth got reckless.

“Stop yapping and just do it already.”

——-

“There’s my girl,” Logan growled at you as his dick responded to the challenge and his eyes flashed at your tone.

“Always busting my balls, aren’t you? Need to give that smart mouth something else to do.” 

Before you could reply, Logan’s lips covered yours so perfectly that it was like magnetic puzzle pieces. You fit together and locked. 

Logan’s tongue traced your lower lip and he drew it into his mouth, nibbling, gently at first and then nipping more harshly, causing a gasp and enabling entry. His tongue swiped at yours as he dominated you.

You were not going to win this round.

——

You could only whimper and grab his shoulders tighter as he kissed you. For all that was holy, why did his kisses have to be so damn good?

One of your hands ventured into the thick hair you’d dreamt of feeling between your fingertips and pulled as your desire peaked. Then your palms went to his face as he pulled away and you squirmed as you realized what was about to happen. 

“What are you here for, Princess?”

That question again.

That voice. It rumbled straight to your core and Logan wasn’t letting you off the hook. 

Logan wasn’t letting you up off of him. 

The hardness of his metal button and zipper, but mostly him (oh god he was huge) chaffed your thighs as he sealed his lips over yours again and his hand went from your scalp down your neck and back to your hip again, holding you down to feel him.

You finally moved, smearing your wetness all over your panties and his jeans and Jesus, it felt so good.

——

Logan’s eyes took in all of you in your scanty clothing, following your every movement and when his eyes moved down to your damp panties he swallowed audibly. He clenched his jaw with the strain of holding back.

Logan couldn’t deny that he wanted you. His 200 year old heart felt brand new.

“Mmmmph. Here for this feeling Logan.” 

Your voice was the greatest symphony. His stomach clenched when you looked him in the eye.

“I’m here for you.”

You leaned forward and nuzzled his cheek with your nose, then whispered a demand in his ear.

“Touch me, Logan.”

Without thinking, but instinctively careful of you, Logan’s claws extended, shredding the sides of your panties and rendering them in pieces. 

“Fuck!”

You gasped as he stood up with you in his retracted grip and threw you on the bed, the scraps of your underwear abandoning you.

He couldn’t stand it anymore, he was so weak for you. He was on his knees at the foot of the bed as he ran his rough hands up and down your legs.

——-

“I’m touching you, now what?”

He spoke to you, but he was looking at the juncture of your thighs, at the well-manicured hair there, all casual, as if he weren’t teasing the hell out of you.

You had something for him.

“If you don’t know what to do, then I’ll show you.”

You reached up and took off your camisole and Logan’s eyes raked upwards and widened at the sight of what you were holding, which was your breast in one hand, as you pinched and rolled your own nipple. Your other hand trailed down your body as your legs fell open to give yourself access to your clit, which you had the nerve to play with in front of Logan’s face. 

——

Now he was the one who was angry.

Logan snarled, then batted your hand away.

“Careful Princess. Don’t poke the Wolverine.”

His hands tightened on your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed where he was.

———

Logan leaned down, his hot breath ghosting your pussy as he looked up at you with those gorgeous brown eyes. 

You couldn’t let the moment get too tender.

“What if the Wolverine wants to poke–”

Logan’s hand covered your mouth, cutting you off at just the moment he licked a long, hot, wet stripe up the center of you and then pursed his lips around your clit to suck at you ruthlessly.

Your smart ass remark was forgotten as a moan bubbled up into your throat. Logan took his hand away once it was clear that you couldn’t talk anymore, or at least that your capacity for sass had diminished. 

You were leaning up on your elbow and watching him feast on you, convulsing with each swipe of his broad tongue and each pull on your clit.

As mesmerized as you were at his skill, you managed to brush his thick dark hair away from his eyes so that he could see properly. You didn’t want anything getting in the way of the best head you’d ever received.

——-

Logan’s hands were now palming the most delicious meal he’d ever eaten; you were practically sitting on his fingers. For him, you tasted even better than you smelled. He couldn’t believe it.

He looked up at you incredulously, watching your breasts moving with each heave of your lungs trying to capture air, and your mouth open to capture it. He met your eyes and frowned at you as he reached down and stroked his pulsing cock.

“What’s wrong?”

“The fucking Cuties you eat all day long. They got you tasting like a fucking orange. ‘S fucking impossible.”

He yanked you closer and buried his face between your legs. You made those cute little noises with every swipe of his tongue, and he licked and sucked until you convulsed in his hands, screaming.

You were still trying to catch your breath before he was on you, licking and suckling your hard and soft breasts.

“Damn,” you murmured as Logan swiped his thick, bulbous head into your entrance and meeting resistance, “You’re so fucking huge Logan.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d heard that phrase, but coming from you it hit different. His chest puffed with pride.

Logn smiled into your neck, inhaling your scent and growling against your skin.

“Don’t be scared, Princess. I’ll make it feel good for you. I should be more worried than you are. I’m gonna split you open, but you are about to shatter me into a thousand pieces.”

He didn't mean to tell you the absolute truth. But he had.

Logan knew there was no coming back from this for him.

——

You shuddered at the words which were breathed over your skin.

Logan trailed the tip of his tongue up the side of your neck the looked you in the eye. It was too much.

You lowered your gaze and he chuckled, making you sigh when he tugged on your lobe with his teeth and started pushing inside you. It was slow, but sensual and somehow still desperate. 

With each increment of himself that he gave you, you felt destroyed, yet you wanted more. You clutched at his chest as you widened your legs for him, as if that would help.

“No one else has ever made me feel this way. Hurts so good, Logan. More. Please?”

The question was, were you just talking about his penis?

——-

You begging him made Logan want to cry as he slipped further inside of you. When he bottomed out, you both shuddered, you at the sensation of such fullness, and him at the way you were so snugly and warmly wrapped around him.

“Fuck! Princess. Should have known you would be hot and tight. But I wasn’t ready.”

Logan wasn’t ready for you at all.

—-

His pupils were completely blown and the look on Logan’s face made you clench down even tighter as he stroked deeper into you. 

“Y-yess, feels so good.” 

You felt like liquid in his arms. Your hands moved over his shoulders as you hitched your thigh around his hips. He ran his hand up your thigh and around to your leg, holding you in place as he began to pound into you harder.

You whispered a confession into his ear.

“I’ve dreamed about this so many times.” 

Logan lifted his head from watching his cock destroy you, his brow arched in surprise. 

“You’ve dreamt about me?” 

You bit your lip and nodded, all of a sudden feeling shy. 

“At night after a tense night between us, I’d go to my room and imagine that you’d follow me to…shut me up.”

Your lashes fanned your face as you smirked.

“Oh yeah?”

Logan swiveled his hips and you gasped. He was lighting you up from the inside.

“Sounds like a cool dream, Princess,” he said, leaning down to your ear.

“But you’re talking far too much in reality.”

And he began snapping his hips at a frenzied pace, causing your back to arch and your mouth to fall open, leaving you moaning until you screamed with your orgasm.

You couldn’t talk; hell you couldn’t even think when he was going like this.

——

At this point, there was no more finesse; Logan was stroking in and out of you, almost completely leaving you and reentering just to feel that sensation again. The way his fat cockhead breached you was like no other feeling in the world.

Your arched back was displaying your breasts to him at a perfect angle. It inspired something within him.

“Look at you Princess. All gorgeous and fucked out and taking this cock for me. All dumb now. Bet you like not having to think so much. Just take it like the good little slut you are for me, yeah?”

His filthy commentary made the coil in your belly snap, and you came like a freight train, squeezing him so much that he had pull out to keep from coming himself.

He kissed you as you could only whimper in protest. Logan felt a warmth blooming in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a long time, if at all, as you lay melted in his arms.

He couldn’t wait to be back inside you.

“Can’t tell you how many times I dreamt about having you under me just… like… this….”

And he slid back home.

“Mmm… those lips down there suck my tip so well, how will these lips do?”

Logan’s thick thumb was in your mouth and you swirled your tongue around it to show him what your mouth could do. He groaned and pried your mouth open with his hand.

“Keep it open and do what I say.”

——-

The band was tightening in your belly again. You knew what was coming and nearly came again when Logan spit into your mouth. The orgasms were blending together now.

“Swallow.”

You did, and Logan thrust into you hard an deep while thrumming your clit. That was all it took for you to cum again and this time, you gushed around him, making a mess on his bed.

He looked down in disbelief and laughed with glee, handling you like a fuck doll to do with as he pleased.

That's when you realized that you loved being used by him.

“Bet ya didn’t dream you’d be such a dirty little slut for me, did ya, Princess?”

——

Logan realized that he was your slut, too. He was lost to your sounds, the sight of your beautiful lust drunk face, and the feeling of your cunt squeezing him with multiple orgasms now.

He started tracing urgent circles on your clit again.

“Look at me.”

That’s when you said the most beautiful words to him.

“So fucking good L-Logan. Cum inside me. Please. ‘M on the pill.”

“Music to… my fucking.. ears….”

——

Logan’s fingers moved to your shoulders, holding you captive as he stroked deeper and harder. His harsh breaths in your ear increased, the most erotic sound in the world.

You clamped down on him and he growled, his cock pulsing as he spilled inside you, the warm wave of fluid combing and causing a lovely, filthy mess.

It was so satisfying.

And you couldn’t let it lie.

——

He pulled out and stared at the ceiling in disbelief, before looking over at you to find you playing in his cum and licking your fingers, leaning over to give him a taste on your lips.

“What? You tired, Old Man?”

He shook his head and laughed as his cock came back to life.

Kissing you back had been the biggest mistake of his life.

He was never going to get you out of his system.

And he wasn't sure he wanted to.

-----

You shivered as Logan loomed over you, with that damned eyebrow cocked and that smirk on his face.

“Oh Princess. You have no idea what you’re in for.”

Then Logan grabbed you and kissed you again.

——

Reblog if you enjoyed it! 🥰

[kikiiswashere]

Four to Tango

As promised, part two of Waltzing for Three!!!

Thank you for helping me reach 200 followers for this little ol' blog of mine 🥰 And welcome to all the newcomers!

The idea for this ficlet was born of watching my bestie @sand-sea-and-fable help out a pregnant friend by lifting her belly off her hips, and it just sort of spiraled from there.

It's also worth noting that I myself am not a mother, nor have I given birth, nor do I wish to be a mom (husband got the ol' snip-snip). So why this fic? Good question 😅

That being said, I did my best to write about the labor process relatively accurately without getting into the super nitty-gritty of it 😂 So, please enjoy this weird little fever-dream of a fic, and please comment and reblog 💗

Tags for the interested parties: @luhmoon, @legendaryflowercheesecake, @thebeserkvernid, @miffysoo

Pairing: Established Silco x AFAB!Reader

Rating: Teen/Mature (brief reference to oral sex)

CW: Non-graphic descriptions of pregnancy and labor

Insistent cramping had woken you up in the wee-hours one morning, swelling and ebbing in a slow rhythm that sent your heart tapping, a loop of nerves coiling around your gut – little room that there was for it.

Silco had been a terribly light sleeper ever since Vander’s betrayal, ever since those early years on an under-tested Shimmer variant that left his brain unable to fully settle. So, the moment you shifted into a sitting position, he shot up as well.

“What’s wrong?”

Words got gummed up on fear and excitement in your mouth. There was a slight tremor in your fingers as they grazed over your belly. You had noticed it sitting even lower on your hips these past several days. While you were very done with being pregnant, you were still nervous and surprised to say –

“I think it’s time.”

With comical amounts of speed, but awe-inspiring grace, Silco flung himself from the bed, divesting himself of his eyepatch and pajamas. After changing into a simple set of trousers and an old button-up shirt, he fetched the stopwatch Jinx had invented to easily time your contractions, and wrote a tube prompting your midwife that she was needed. It had been decided early on that the babe’s delivery – barring any complications – would happen at The Last Drop. You, nor Silco, were willing to venture outside to a clinic when your family would be at its most vulnerable.

Too nervous to lay down, much less fall back asleep, you began pacing the large bedroom in your large sleep shirt. Every time a contraction locked up and spasmed through your lower belly and back, your fingers pressed the stopwatch’s clicker. And you breathed as the midwife had instructed. Silco kept you company, walking with you up and down the length of the bedroom, holding your hand and becoming an anchor to squeeze when contractions rolled through. Together, you both noted and kept track of their intervals. Their spacing  and length suggested that the little one’s arrival was not imminent, but the consistency indicated that this was indeed labor.

The midwife arrived, ushered in by a half-asleep Sevika. You’d bribed her with an absurd bonus and several pre-paid sessions at Babette’s for her to crash in one of the Drop’s private guest rooms during these last days of your pregnancy. She was needed for security, and to stand-in for Silco when his attention and priorities would be elsewhere.

“Good luck,” she’d grumbled, barely glancing at you before shutting the bedroom door, and trudging back down the hall.

The midwife was a petite, wizened Vastaya who’d been selected for her services not only because of her field prowess, but because she was staunch loyalist to you and Silco. Shimmer had helped save more than one of her clients when the birthing process had begun to go sideways, and that was enough for her to hitch her wagon to your agenda.

She was also direct to the point of rudeness – a personality trait that was wholly welcome given the slippery, hidden, self-serving rhetoric you were used to having to deal with.

“Time?” she asked, setting her medical bag down on your dresser with a heavy thunk.

“Forty-five seconds to a minute, about every seven minutes,” you answered. Then gasped and doubled over as another contraction bent you.

The midwife hummed. “How long?”

“About an hour,” Silco said. He squeezed back at your hand as you rode out the current wave rolling through.

Clucking her tongue, the midwife shook her head, long ears slapping lightly against her horns.

“Early.”

Silco frowned. “You are being more than thoroughly compensated to show up whenever we ask.”

“Indeed. To the bed, miss. Let’s have a look.”

Once your legs were freed from the lock of the contraction, you shuffled to the bed. Silco helped you into position, and the midwife closed in. Her fingers were warm, but the tools were cold. The combination, along with your nerves, caused your lungs to shudder.

“Five,” she declared, drawing her head from between your thighs.

“That’s halfway,” you chuckled weakly. Silco brushed his thumb over your knuckles

The midwife hummed in agreement. “True. But as discussed, this process is not linear. And being your first delivery, it is very likely this will take a while. How is the pain?”

“Fine. Manageable.” It came out as a grit, but she didn’t seem to doubt you.

“You should eat and drink while you can. Is there anything else you want or need right now?”

Together, you and Silco walked to the small kitchen in your private quarters. You rested your forearms on the counter as the length of your spine hammocked behind you, hips gently swishing side-to-side. Silco kept the breakfast blissfully simple: toast with a light slather of butter, and a mug of warmed water with lemon.

Eating was slow going. Between the jitters and contractions, your appetite was seriously curbed. When you finally made it to the second piece of toast, Jinx shuffled into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and bed-headed. Her bedraggled demeanor did not last long though, as her whip-quick senses tuned into the energy of the space. Big, blue eyes tracked between Silco – unusually underdressed – and your strange posture. One could nearly hear the cogs in her head clicking and whirring.

“Is it time?!”

In a flash, she clambered onto the stool next to you, bright and tittering. Her exuberance washed over you in a relieving breeze. Reaching over, you ran a hand through her unkempt hair.

“Sure is, kiddo.”

“When will he be here?”

“Could be a while yet, Jinx,” Silco answered. He set a glass of juice in front of her. “What would you like? Toad-in-the-hole? Porridge? Pancakes?”

“Make ‘em have a face!” she crowed.

A hook of a smile pulled at Silco’s mouth as he turned back toward the stove.

Jinx settled onto the stool; legs kicking merrily beneath her as she sipped her juice.

“What does it feel like?”

“Like intense menstrual cramps.”

Her small face squished in a ponder. While you had had that conversation with her, Jinx had yet to broach into that aspect of puberty. Thus, she had no point of reference.

“Kinda like when you roof-run after eating, and your abs cramp up,” you offered. “Kind of.”

A contraction swelled upon you, and you grit your teeth, face pinching, head dropping. Silco stepped away from the stovetop, and placed a grounding hand between your shoulder blades. Jinx watched, eyes wide and worried. Timidly, she shifted toward you, pressing her forehead to your shoulder.

The pain continued, but was temporarily numbed by the overwhelming love and gratitude for the two people on either side of you.

Your family.

It was never part of the plan when it came to your Silco’s ideas to lift Zaun up, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. And in a few hours, three would be four. Your heart beat big, tapping against your throat as the contraction passed. You clicked the stopwatch.

“That seems worse than roof-run cramps,” Jinx said suspiciously.

You chuffed. “Like I said: Kind of.”

Silco rubbed his hand up and down your spine a few times, before kissing your temple and returning to the stove.

“You remember what we talked about?” you asked Jinx.

She fiddled with her hair, nodding. “I can come and go as I please.”

“Right. If you want to be with us, I want you to be there. If you don’t, that’s fine, too. You get to decide, and it doesn’t have to be right now.”

Jinx nodded again, eyes staring into the middle-distance. Reaching over, you brushed your fingers through her hair again. Her eyes snapped back to yours.

“Are you scared?”

You gave her a reassuring smile.

“No. I’m happy.”

It wasn’t a lie. But a few hours later, your happiness was thoroughly overshadowed by the pain of labor. It was staggering how it had intensified. How it was becoming near non-stop as the space between contractions shortened and shortened. Gravity felt impossible to contend with on top of everything else, so you sank onto your bedroom floor with a low, guttural growl.

Silco had been attentive throughout, anticipating your needs before you even voiced them. Ever your anchor, your source for steadiness. Even now, on your hands and knees, his own wide palms settled onto your hips and pressed in. It pulled an appreciative groan from your throat.

“You’re doing so well, my love.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

Your eyes flicked to the bathroom door where Jinx was helping the midwife prepare a warm bath. You were proud of your girl. Admittedly, part of you doubted she would choose to stick around once labor became loud and more intense. When you could no longer keep yourself from crying out, hesitancy had flickered in her eyes, and her brows pitched in concern. But instead of dashing away, she’d reached for your hand and held tight.

“Is there anything you can give her?” she’d asked the midwife incredulously.

The female had smirked, impressed and moved by the girl’s protectiveness of you.

“I have mild pain relievers, but nothing that will fully numb – “

“Shimmer?”

The midwife’s black lips thinned. “That is only to be used in emergencies,” she explained. “It is too potent and powerful to be used for anything other than the most extreme circumstances. Which – “her eyes looked up at your haggard form on the bed – “does not seem probable. Her labor is progressing as it should. There is nothing to worry about.”

Jinx frowned, doubtful, and hunkered closer to your side.

“Seems like a dumb design that it hurts so much.”

“Agreed,” you wheezed.

“Come,” the midwife said, “let’s check you.”

She declared you’d progressed to eight centimeters. That had been three hours ago. And the pain just continued to climb and build.

A small sob burst through your teeth. Silco knelt at your side, quietly saying your name.

“I’m scared, Sil,” you admitted in a whisper. You were thankful Jinx wasn’t near to hear you back-pedal. Your breath hitched and words tumbled out: “I don’t know if I can do this.”

He took your warm and tear-streaked face between his hands, and repeated your name.

“Look at me.”

Reluctantly, your tired and wet eyes focused on his face. He looked at you with fierce earnestness, thumbs sweeping across the apples of your flushed cheeks. Suddenly, part of you grieved that the baby would never know Silco without his scars. Or yours. Outside and in.

Silco called your name again.

“Look at me,” he repeated. Your eyes slid back to his. Blue and red pinned you in place. “You can do this. I’ve not met anyone more tenacious, nor strong, nor as spirited as you. Those are but a few of the reasons I fell in love with you so long ago.” His eyes softened now; his adoration made plain. “You’ve absolutely no reason to doubt yourself.”

A small hiccup bubbled from your mouth, and you pressed your face into the warmth of his palm, breathing him in deeply. Not having properly dressed for the day, he hadn’t put any cologne on. The natural terra-sweet scent of his skin filled your nose. You were grateful for his support, respect, and belief in your abilities. A sudden, silly thought flitted across your mind.

“Not my dance moves?”

A single amused breath huffed from his throat. That infinitesimal smirk – one of the reasons you’d fallen in love with him – appeared on his lips. His blue eye flashed; as it often did when an idea struck him. Silco lifted to his feet, and used a strong grip to pull you to yours. He guided your arms to loop around his shoulders and neck, while his went to your low back. A weary chuckle left you as you understood. Your cheek was a relieved, heavy weight against his shoulder. It had to be a strange sight, this dance configuration: with your body slouched against his, massive belly hanging between you two. Slowly, your feet began gently shifting side-to-side.

“Admittedly,” he murmured against your crown, “your dance moves leave something to be desired right now.”

You laughed, even as another contraction swelled within you. Silco’s hands firmed up on your body, holding you upright as it moved through your body.

“I’ll make it up to you,” you hissed as most of the pain subsided. It was such now that there was no longer any real relief.

“A dance and a suck job? Lucky me.”

Your fingers pinched Silco’s upper back, and you felt the tremor of silent laughter in his shoulders.

“Tub’s ready!” Jinx sang as she flounced out of the bathroom.

Managing to smile at her, despite another great, contracting swell that threatened to bring you to your knees, you took her hand. Silco kept a strong arm wrapped around your middle, and you followed Jinx into the humid warmth of the bathroom.

The water helped. Its heat soothed your pained muscles and aching bones. The irony was not lost on you that you found peace in it. After a few minutes of settling into the tub, you gave Silco a look that to anyone else may have seemed like nothing. But he caught the message in your eyes, and tucked himself close to the tub’s edge, taking your hand. Jinx huddled herself into his lap, nervously fingering the buttons on his shirt.

About an hour later, the midwife’s large ears flicked in your direction as the quality of your breath shifted, as the sounds leaving you turned deeper and more animal. Her deft hands slipped into the water and between your legs.

“Something changed,” you gasped, hunching slightly. “It feels like – “

“It’s time,” she said, pulling her hands from the water. Somehow, she’d also stripped your underwear off in the same movement without you noticing. “It’s time to push.”

Push. The word settled into your body with a deep, innate knowing.

Yes. That’s what you were feeling. The near uncontrollable need to bare down. An old, predetermined instinct washed over you. You could do this.

But you did not want to do it alone.

“Sil.”

The grit of his name and the way you shifted yourself forward spurred your partner into understanding. Swiftly, he stood, deposited Jinx onto the stool he’d vacated, and then stepped into the tub, sliding in behind you. Settling against his chest, your hand ferociously intertwined with his. His heart beat firmly against your back.

“You can do this,” he whispered into your ear.

“Give me your other hand, dear,” the midwife said. You did so and she guided it under the water, preparing you to feel and catch. “Push.”

“Push! Push!” Jinx cried, her little fists pumping and bopping in the air madly.

Gritting your teeth, you did just that. A sound you didn’t know you were capable of making burst from your lungs. When the air ran out, you slumped against Silco’s chest.

“Breath in,” the midwife demanded. You did so. “Push!”

You did again, a roar ripping from your chest. A roar that ended in a surprised yip as something into your hand.

“Again,” the midwife demanded.

And you complied, baring down with everything you had. With all the might and tenacity and power your body could exert. Another battle cry echoed off the bathroom tiles, and a solid weight slid into your hand. You ripped your other hand from Silco’s grip, and pulled a wriggling newborn from the water.

“It’s a boy!” Jinx yelled, bouncing up and down in her seat.

Her brother’s face squidged, and his pink mouth opened in an announcing wail. You joined in and pulled the babe to your chest. Silco went very still behind you, scarcely breathing. Then his hands appeared over yours, cradling the baby at your chest. Like on the night you’d taken in Jinx, he pulled his legs up around you both and held tight.

Later, once the placenta had passed (something Jinx was equally horrified and enthralled by) you were helped out of the tub, and cleaned. The midwife tied off the babe’s umbilical cord, and once some time passed, you watched with an incredibly full heart as Silco severed it.

You weren’t sure if you’d ever seen the expression on your partner’s face. A soft, careful, wonderous thing. Then it hit you all at once. You were watching Silco fall in love. The notion took your breath away and fresh tears welled in your eyes. Jinx clung to you, and you to her.

“Thank you for being with me, Jinx. It helped.”

The girl beamed up at you, holding on tighter.

“I think it is your turn for a shower, sir,” the midwife said, twisting off the umbilical nub.

Silco watched her hands like a hawk as she did. He slid in once she finished, and wrapped him in a blanket Jinx had decorated. It was a small thing, but you caught the tremor in his hands. Keeping Jinx tucked against your side, you came to stand next to him.

“He’ll be here when you get out of the shower,” you whispered, voice hoarse.

“Yeah! Go get the baby juice off you!” Jinx ordered.

Silco’s expression of awe turned to one of bemusement as he glanced at your daughter.

“Yes. I suppose I should.”

Your own hands shook a bit as you gathered your son – your son! You wondered if the shock would wear off – and ushered Jinx to follow the midwife out of the bathroom.

With no small amount of effort, your body, beyond sore and exhausted, climbed into bed. The baby cooed and nuzzled and fussed against your chest as you settled into the pillows and duvet. Jinx climbed in on the opposite side, and snuggled close.

“He’s already sleeping!”

“It’s hard work being born. Don’t you remember?” you chuckled.

Jinx laughed, “No!”

A small smile curled the midwife’s mouth as she snapped her bag shut. She turned to you and bowed her head.

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” you said, eyes on your boy. Then you lifted them to hers, and said again, “And thank you.”

She nodded again, horns catching the light in the room.

“It was my honor.”

She gave you and the baby one last cursory check over, and took her leave.

A few moments after she left, there was a knock on the door, and Sevika stuck her head in.

“Ogre!” Jinx cried. “I gotta brother!”

Even Sevika’s presence couldn’t dampen Jinx’s mood.

Silco’s lieutenant grunted, and stepped over to the bed. She stayed at a distance though, craning her neck to peer down at you and the baby.

“Yep. That’s a baby. Congrats.”

“Thank you, Sevika.”

Behind her, Silco emerged from the foggy bathroom in a fresh pair of slacks and an unbuttoned shirt. Sevika tilted her strong chin in his direction and he nodded back.

“I’ll leave you all to it then,” she said.

Her poncho twirled as she spun back to leave. As she and Silco crossed paths, a metal finger tip whipped out from beneath the red fabric, and poked his bare belly. He jolted and shuddered. He sneered at her, but she just snickered and slipped out of the room.

Silco shook his head, damp hair beginning to curl at the ends. He rounded the bed, and climbed in, sandwiching Jinx between your bodies. He leaned over the girl’s head and kissed you.

“What’re we gonna name him?” Jinx pipped.

You and Silco exchanged a look.

“I’m not sure,” you admitted.

“I’m sure we’ll come up with something.” he added.

Immediately, Jinx began rattling off all her suggestions.

Before a name could be decided, you fell asleep. Jinx followed shortly after; her plump cheek pressed against your shoulder. Gingerly, Silco lifted the baby from your arms, and brought him to his bare chest. The boy tensed, and then melted, a small wispy sigh leaving him.

Silco melted, too; a foreign, near indescribable softness filling him up. He brought his hand to the boy’s back, its length and width nearly covering all of him. His son was so small.

His son. His son.

Emotions gripped him so intensely he nearly choked.

Elation, love, fear.

Grief.

There was grief that his child was born technically as a citizen of Piltover. But that anguish was small compared to the other one that had been tucked away in the scar tissue of Silco’s heart ever since you had told him of the pregnancy. A pain that he hated he harbored.

The secret grief was that Vander wasn’t here to see this. The grief that his Brother had ruined any chance of participating in this milestone. The grief of Vander’s death (justified though it was) was scratched open as Silco’s son lay on his heart. The grief that, had things gone differently, Silco would’ve named the boy after his Brother.

“Sil.”

Silco’s head whipped around at the sound of your voice. Your beautiful, exhausted, beautiful face shone up at him. There was a smile on your lips that he wished to taste, so he leaned over Jinx’s head again and pressed his mouth to yours. 

“I told you you could do it,” he whispered leaning back. You smiled and nodded wearily.

The baby grunted and shifted against Silco’s chest, and he pet the back of his head so, so softly. It broke your heart into a million pieces, and then they jumped right back together. Your eyes slid back up to your partner’s profile.

You felt his grief, because it was yours, too.

“I know, Silco,” you whispered. He looked over to you. Jinx snored softly between. “I wish it had been different, too.”

Silco’s eyebrow dropped, and his lips softened. He glanced down at the baby on his chest, and chuckled ruefully.

“I truly don’t know what to name him.”

You shrugged. “We’ll figure it out.”

He nodded. You sat in silence for a while, listening to your children breath. Jinx’s raspy breaths and the baby’s snuffling. It was music to your ears. You would never tire of hearing it.

Just as you were about to doze again, you felt Silco’s energy shift. Eyes sharpening onto him, you watched as he first gently ran his fingers over Jinx’s freckled cheek. Then, so carefully, he lifted the baby from his chest so he could look at his small face.

“You and your sister will have better than we did,” he promised. “Me and your mother will give you a nation.”

Your son’s eyes fluttered open and closed, the bud of his mouth stretching into what looked like a small smile. Your throat tightened horribly, and you tucked your nose into Jinx’s crown.

When you were sure you could speak without choking, you lifted your head and said, “We promise.”

I hope part two scratched the itch <3 If you enjoy my work and would like to support me (firstly, THANK YOU!) check out my Ko-Fi page!

ko-fi.com/kiki13

[ponchizs]

as far as having an art-specific blog or having artists who reblog on the same blog with their art, I've never minded either way and also like when I get to kinda meet the artist by seeing their reblogs in the same place! the only fear I think is that you might have less notes on art, since for art-specific blogs i tend to better remember to actually check out their blogs and might even do some spam liking/reblogging!

Ohh that’s true. It’s definitely difficult to check other people’s art blog if they have many reblogs after their newest art, I hadn’t thought about it. Hmmm then probably it’s better to have a separated one but also reblog it here.

Having a link to this blog could probably work as well if they also want to see activity from me since I love reblogging stuff as well. Ahhh I think I’m inclining more towards a separated art blog. Thank you for your opinion ILY💕💕💕🥺

[crazy-lazy-elder-sims]

I've been seeing alot of people felling discouraged from simblr and feeling like they don't belong

Especially when there is alot of posts going around telling you not to focus on popularity etc

But im here to tell you ITS NOT YOU

You did nothing worng you do infact belong here its not your fault people in this community are not interactive (and yes its just this community im in two other fandom spaces and they work just fine people here are the outlier)

And my proof that its not your fault?

I have 3200 follower (all real people i removed the bots myself)

So you would think i would get alot of notes and feel included right?

WRONG

3k+ followers and this year the most notes i got on any non cc post i made was 15 and on cc posts it was 56

The only post that got alot of notes all year was my simblreen treats post and you would think with 3k people watching it would be 1000 notes or something but no last time i checked it was barely over 100

There are like 3 people that occasionally talk to me sometimes on my posts lol (very thankful i know no one owes me anything)

And i have had this blog for 6+ years

My point is

You belong just fine and i personally am happy you are here

Its not your fault people are being stubborn and refusing to reblog on the reblog website

(imma be real with you if i owened this website im removing the like option this is the reblog website you don't need to only like stuff but i dont own it so 🤷‍♂️)

[jaeyooniverse]

I posted 444 times in 2022

44 posts created (10%)

400 posts reblogged (90%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@sf9official

@jaeyooniverse

@sfnet

@byfantasy

@duovxq

I tagged 443 of my posts in 2022

#gifs - 83 posts

#dawon - 78 posts

#jaeyoon - 70 posts

#taeyang - 67 posts

#fantaken - 49 posts

#fave - 48 posts

#photoshoot - 34 posts

#zuho - 34 posts

#jae.log - 33 posts

#tae.log - 32 posts

Longest Tag: 94 characters

#😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋👅😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

hi why is it my first time seeing this 🙃😭😵🤯

5 notes - Posted December 4, 2022

#4

7 notes - Posted November 10, 2022

#3

🧍🏽‍♀️

8 notes - Posted December 4, 2022

#2

15 notes - Posted September 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

See the full post

28 notes - Posted September 22, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →