#op chatter tag

[bi-mirandalawson]

i think a lot about shanks yearning. but i do not think enough about mihawk yearning.

[somehowmags]

ok mega disclaimer that this is not shipping discourse and i really do not care if you ship gelphie or fiyeraba do whatever you want im not your mom but my controversial opinion on wicked is that i like gelphie as much as the next person which is to say i think its a fun ship but the thing is even if All That hadn't happened i don't think a relationship between them would have like. lasted very long. glinda is at her core a coward who upholds the status quo because it benefits her, and elphaba is a person whose existence challenges the status quo. like that scene where glinda announces that shes changing her name to glinda as like, a protest against the treatment of animals is so telling about her character because it just does not matter. changing her name is not a political action. it doesn't effect any policy. it does nothing to actually help any animal. it has no effect on anything other than glindas personal life, and in the following scenes she still defends the wizard even after hearing that he and morrible are the ones spearheading the discrimination campaign against animals. she doesn't even do it for good reasons (in the movie at least ive listened to the musical but ive never seen it in person) she does it because fiyero and elphaba are bonding over something that she has very little idea of or experience with and she wants to look good. elphaba meanwhile must challenge the status quo whether she wants to or not. her skin color will always mark her as the other and she sympathizes with the animals because she is in the same position. unlike glinda she does actual activism when she and fiyero save the lion cub. unlike the name change this actually helps someone- the lion cub is able to speak and live freely because they save him. and unlike the name change its from a place of good intentions. glinda cares about looking good, elphaba cares about doing good. fieryo is also interesting in this respect because he comes from the same shallow, self centered place as glinda does, but unlike glinda, he changes as a person after witnessing what happens to the animals. glinda saw dillamond being harassed, she saw him being arrested, she saw the lion cub in the cage, and she still decided the status quo was more important than the rights of animals. fiyero also saw the arrest and the lion cub, but seeing that and helping elphaba free the lion cub changes his worldview completely. hes no longer dancing through life, he realizes he should use his privilege to help others. ultimately fiyero and elphaba get a happy ending together because theyve inspired each other to change and grow as people, and glinda doesn't because she realizes her actions have caused harm too late for her to be happy with elphaba

[bonni]

this is such a quintessential tumblr experience but I really don't need someone who doesn't even follow me reblogging a post from me for the express purpose of informing me that a random piece of fanart I liked when I was 14 years old was made by a pro-shipper/pedo apologist. like you can tell from how I phrased my tags that I do not follow that artist actively considering I don't remember anything about them so what have you accomplished here exactly aside from being weirdly invasive about something I enjoyed as a child. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news" actually I don't think that you do. I think you thrive on it

[emdotcom]

heard they’re making it easier tomorrow. not sure if it’s true, but don’t you wanna find out?

[nightmarefemme]

a few days ago @notcatherinemorland tagged me in a post about "the first 10 songs of your on repeat playlist" and uh. i don't have one of those.

so instead i went through various albums i semi-regularly listen to thinking of what i could put together for this and started noticing a trend.

so here's my new, slightly still in progress (the midsection's order vexes me), 10 song playlist that's weird about fire in a semi-religious way

1. Poem of Fire by Oceans of Slumber

2. Moths by Darkher

3. Aidus by Eluveitie

4. Universal Flame by Devin Townsend Project

5. Cold Lights by The Birthday Massacre

6. Carry the Flame by Unleash The Archers

7. Set Me On Fire by Birdmask

8. Arsonist's Lullaby by Hozier

9. Take Me Back To Eden by Sleep Token

10. Pray for Fire by Oceans of Slumber

i understand that the spirit of this is to tag others but this also already took long enough without deciding who to give flashbacks of old tumblr

[beresaad]

tagged by @vasirah !!!

The rules are: Shuffle your On Repeat playlist and share 10 tracks, then tag 10 people so off we go!

1: TONIGHT, TONIGHT, TONIGHT — BEAT CRUSADERS

2: Down By The River — BG3 Soundtrack

3: If I Can't Love Her — Terrence Mann; Beauty and The Beast Broadway Musical

4: Re:member — FLOW

5: 青春狂騒曲 — Sambomaster

6: Weeping Dawn — BG3 Soundtrack

7: Dial Drunk — Noah Kahan

8: Raphael's Final Act — BG3 Soundtrack

9: 悲しみをやさしさに — Little by Little

10: Brand New City — Mitski

i know the rules but im just going to tag @galvus @aroserinosman @draconicocelot @rnangopantsu and whoever else would like to partake!! 🎵

[teaandinanity]

Sometimes something comes up with one of my blocked tags and I'm like,

Do I think this is REALLY [thing I hate] or do I think the artist TAGGED [thing I hate] because it could conceivably apply and they wanted to get the broadest possible audience. Am I brave enough to find out.

[businesstiramisu]

#this is why it's useful to distinguish between systems of cladistics and taxonomy#because they are categorizing the same things using different criteria which makes them useful different fields of research!!!#CLADISTICS sorts based on shared ancestry TAXONOMY sorts based on shared characteristics. so the definition of WHAT IS A FISH#changes based on WHAT SORTING SYSTEM YOU USE (via pillars-of-salt)

....oh should I not be tagging all of these #taxonomy?

*checks wikipedia for a 10 minutes* nah I think i'll stick with that tag

Thanks for pointing out the difference though @pillars-of-salt! Also you got Viva la vida by Coldplay stuck in my head again, lol

as funny as it is to say, "theres's no such thing as a fish" is not actually true

"science doesn't know what a fish is" is really not true

"fish" is not a monophyletic category. there is no common ancestor of everything that we call a "fish," and none of the things that we don't

"fish" is a paraphyletic category -- and a useful one! marine biologists use it! "fish" describes a general body plan and lifestyle. it is useful to be able to talk about coelacanths and tuna in a shared category, though coelacanths are more closely related to us than to tuna.

where this bugs me is the repetition of the idea that "scientists" are hidebound and uncreative, unable to comprehend anything that doesn't conform to a specific idea of categorization -- when this is fundamentally untrue! we know perfectly well what a "fish" is. the fact that it's a paraphyletic group is only confounding to pop science, as a funny factoid, not to anyone who actually understands what a paraphyletic group is.

[bi-mirandalawson]

my favorite frobin thing is how much art is either

1. franky holding robin up on hand or arm

or 2. robin sitting or somehow draped over his shoulder like she lives there

[amsterdamlouie]

as much as i think my url fits a blue theme.. i love my new purple aesthetic. it goes with the palette i have set on the site. purple 🥰

[elslittlestories]

I like it when people take time to think about stuff like that twice.

Hunter and Crosshair both have very conflicted feelings and that's not something you can show easily on TV because in real life people don't just say they have conflicted feelings!! Instead they say things they partially mean or focus on just one feeling at the time.

To me, the fact that Hunter was so quick to forgive is a way of hinting at his guilt and the depth of his love for his brothers ❤️

I have thought a lot about Hunter's initial reservations with Crosshair's return in season 3, his distrust of Crosshair that is so obvious even as he tries to hide it, that eventually erupts into the confrontation on Barton IV.

Hunter: Start talking, Crosshair. What did you do to finally get on the Empire's bad side? Betray them, like you did with us?

When I first watched the episode, I was a bit taken aback by Hunter's argument there. Crosshair obviously has no love for the Empire anymore, he was imprisoned and tortured for months and then he helped Omega escape. Why does Hunter put Crosshair's betraying the Empire on the same level as him betraying the squad? Isn't Crosshair's defection a good thing, regardless of the reason why?

But the more I've considered the situation from Hunter's perspective, the more his reaction makes sense. Last he saw of Crosshair, his brother had held Hunter hostage to lure the others into a trap, then tried to get them to join him and the Empire, got angry when they wouldn't join, helped them against the droids, tried to shoot Hunter, insisted all his choices up to that point were his own and not a result of the chip, argued the entire time they were trying to escape an orbital bombardment, (surprisingly) rescued Omega, and then still was angry and sullen and refused to go with his family. Even with his "severe and unyielding" nature, Crosshair was behaving rather erratically and unpredictably when it came to his old squad.

And if Crosshair was so willing to leave the squad in the name of purpose and loyalty to the Empire, only to then turn on the Empire he was professedly loyal to, what guarantee did the squad have that Crosshair wouldn't turn on them again?

Is it any wonder, then, that Hunter was so suspicious of Crosshair when the prodigal brother returned?

(Also, I have to give major props to Hunter for coming to terms with Crosshair even after this exchange:

Hunter: Tell me what changed. What happened, Crosshair?

Crosshair: I killed an Imperial officer. So yes, I did betray them, after they betrayed me. (doesn't elaborate further, instead proceeds to berate Hunter)

Just saying, if I had been Hunter - you know, the sergeant - I probably would have been a bit more concerned over the fact that Crosshair just up and killed an Imperial officer and won't explain why. But Hunter ultimately just lets it go without demanding further explanation. There's a good, trusting brother for you!)

[emdotcom]

Hey, treat content creators online like they are wild animals -- you need to keep a respectful distance from them. They are not your pets or your friends, & you do not & never will Fully know them, nor what they can do.

[hexwhore]

HIII BRIIII I’m so excited you’re doing this AUGHH Smooch kiss

How about 148 + trans Viktor? 👀

Yee-haw baby, your wish is my command 🧚‍♂️🤠

Tags/Warnings: 18+, Trans!Viktor x G!N Reader, modern flavored, public sex, shotgunning the devil's lettuce, frottage. Terms used for Viktor: Tits (pre-op, pierced), cunt.

The split vinyl groans as he levers himself up, felt more than heard. Sounds get lost beneath the mixtape of chatter and heavy reverb, bass like a second heartbeat. You catch the raw hem of his sweater, tugging, shouting, asking: “Where are you going?”

“To smoke,” you read off his lips, invited to slide out of the booth and follow him through the humid churn of darkly dressed bodies. He leads you deeper into the bar, shouldering into the drop-ceiling, checker-tiled bathroom. But this isn’t new, and while you may snort, there’s nothing to say. It’s not as if he’s going where you won’t follow. 

In the second stall, farthest from the door, Viktor props open the inset window like a nimble-fingered expert. And he is—at avoiding the aching cold. He’s considerate about it, nonetheless; convinced that the scent of his vape is present enough to be off-putting, though you hardly ever smell a thing. 

Music melts through the plaster walls, the pulse running through your companionate silence. There is only you, hitched on the sink’s edge, ankles crossed, and him, leaning neatly against the wall, taking a meditative drag from the pen between his fingers. 

You watch his head fall back against the tile and have to wonder: “You wanna go home?” 

“No,” seeps out with his exhale, angled out the window. “I only needed an intermission. This is… fun.”

Your brow lifts.

“I’m having fun.” And his lithe little smile is earnest enough that you believe him. 

Your eyes drift to the door, returning a smile of your own—this one wry. “Not as much as them,” the undisputed champions of PDA, of course. Last you saw, Caitlyn had her hands in Vi’s patchy black, spray-dyed hair, and they were getting hot and heavy in front of the sound booth like the main characters of emo night at The Last Drop. 

“Mm.” He offers out the vape, drawing you off the sink and into the stall. “Their definition seems somewhat different.” 

“Not that different,” you shrug, plucking it from his cold fingers. “Just less subtle.” 

The shade of interest that darkens his eyes certainly is, something warm sparking to life between your bodies inching closer. You meant it to be heady, but your slow pull, holding his stare, is not as pretty and graceful as his had been. It tickles at first before the burn in your throat, your lungs, registers. Makes you sputter into your arm like you’re green as he takes the pen back—the cheap one that runs too hot—with a soft laugh.

“I forgot to charge the good one,” he apologizes, touch soothing over your shoulder. 

With one final cough and your watery eyes wiped, you begin to step back and grieve the ruined moment. (Which, yes, is completely his fault.) 

But his hand fits to the curve of your jaw. “A solution,” he murmurs as he shapes his mouth around the intake, and you follow the intimate thread of his logic. He breathes in, you breathe out. He leans back, you crowd closer. And when he seals to your lips, in accordance with this tidal push and pull, you drink deep of that earthy vapor and let his breath pool in your lungs. 

You pull away, barely able to exhale, before he’s hauling you back by the jacket and licking into your mouth like he wants to taste your teeth. You have the good sense to fumble the door closed, catching a split, smudged second of yourself in the mirror, framed in the stall, tangling into him.

Viktor pants into your mouth, and your hands grope beneath his sweater, eliciting a breathy, “Fuck,” out of him. His tits are subtle and sensitive, malleable in your hands like supple dough—a  harsh contrast to the ball-capped bars lanced through the center of each.  

“Don’t make too many noises or we’ll get caught,” you hush, as if thumbing his steel shot nipple helps. 

His jaw falls open, throat cinching around a fractured sound. Still, licking his spit-slick lips, he manages to chide, “That’s part of the thrill,” urging his chest into your hands for more. 

But you want more too. 

More takes shape to be his long, bird-boned arm draped over your shoulders, his pants shoved down and the thick, crude smell of sweat and slick in your nose; it is your grip on his narrow hips, at once setting the pace and letting yourself be used. His dark hair bobs starkly against the white tile, silver earrings glinting—all in the periphery of your focus. Because when you’re not watching him rut bare against your thigh, his swollen cunt catching and dragging when it meets skin through the rips in your dark jeans...

You can’t stop looking at his hand, clapped over his own mouth.

[sobbingscripter]

DAY 2: Two Turtle Doves

☃️A Holly Jolly Wayne Gala☃️

Tags: [aged up!][semi-public][mommy kink][subby Tim Drake][m4f][handjob][fem!reader][whiny][twink][he's 19][mdni?]

❄️☃️❄️

Tinsel strung along each wall of the ridiculously lavish venue.

But that's exactly what to expect from a Wayne gala. Extravagance and luxurious.

A plethora of waiters carry different trays, with festive treats and holiday-themed cocktails. You remain near the bar, nursing a Shirley Santa, which is just a regular, rosy Shirley Temple, with salt around the rim to represent the fluff on Santa Clause's hat.

The live band continues to play music, low and festive that seems to drown out in the presence of the chatter between social elites, various red dresses, tailored suits and expensive scents seem to blend together.

At least when compared to that smell of strong, Moroccan coffee that seems to cling to one of Bruce Wayne's wards, particularly the twink one.

Inky hair in an undercut, unsually shaky hands and the ghosts of eyebags below cerulean pools. An almost girlishly pretty face, as he grabs what looks like his third mug of coffee for the evening.

"You know, coffee's not good for a growing boy."

Tim glances at you, maybe an inch or two taller, not by much, and from this distance, you can see glimpses of his lean physique.

Top. Tier. Twink.

"I'm 19." Tim speaks softly, his voice a refreshing, boyish timbre in the cacophony of nasally, and the occasional faux British accent tossed in to imitate class and decorum.

"Men stop growing at like... 21." You chide him gently, before taking the mug from his hand and setting it down beside him, on the table he's leaning against.

He simply stares up at you, big blue eyes locked on your face.

He's not entirely unfamiliar to you, especially since he has a penchant of staring at you whenever he's in the same room as you. Which, seeing as you're interning at Wayne Enterprises, is surprisingly a lot.

In the cafeteria, in the elevator. Almost everywhere. Except the women's bathroom.

Which... now, is kind of crossed out.

"Oh.... shit, please...please... please.... mommy.."

Tim's whines are muffled by your palm, your other hand wrapped around his pretty cock, leaky pink tip occasionally peeking out from your fisted hand with each tentative stroke you give him.

His eyes are half-lidded, hands fisting the fabric of your dress as you press and feather numerous kisses to the curve of his neck, the collar of his shirt untidy and unbuttoned.

"Faster...—please, go faster."

Tim begs, lashes fluttering as your palm glides against the sensitive skin of his shaft, his muscular hips rocking into your hand in a poor attempt to gain more friction, more feeling.

Desperate for that release, that pace you've been denying him.

"You're asking me to go faster but your knees are buckling." You tease him, teeth nipping at his pierced lobe before you pull away, looking down at his slumped form, back pressed against the door of the bathroom stall.

"So pretty." You croon quietly, before capturing his lips in a deep, somewhat sloppy kiss which he immediately returns. Messy, uncoordinated and his hands grasp at your waist,

One of Tim's hands shakily grip the back of your thigh, raising your leg to bracket his hip and he ruts against your hand, eyes fluttered shut as he imagines himself fucking you, rather than your hand.

Your dress rides up, a generous sliver of thigh and a glimpse of your panties visible, a sight that has him moaning into the kiss.

God, he's so pretty.

Fluttering lashes, tears brimming in his pretty blue eyes, a messy undercut and biting his bottm lip each time you pull away to kiss along his jaw.

"Please..." Tim whines softly, the crown of his head falling back against the stall door and he feels his pretty cock twitch needily, beads of precum running down his shaft and dropping down from his tightly drawn balls. "Oh... fuck.."

Your hand clamps tighter over his mouth when the bathroom door opens, and two sets of heels collide with the marble tiles and Tim stares at you, wide-eyed and nervous.

And you can't help it, as your fist slowly continues to move, pumping him and watching the way his face gets warmer and his eyes roll back in his head.

A muffled whimper slips out from behind your hand, stifled by the sound of a tap being opened and Tim jets onto the soft, cottony fabric of your panties, hot cum soaking through the already sodden material and he whines.

"That's it, baby..." You croon sweetly, pressing soft kisses to the side of his face and his neck, his tie a limp ghost of his decency, his knees buckling and his body limp, and lax against the door.

You can feel the way your cum drips from your inner thighs, and Tim's eyes lower to the sight, running his pink tongue along his bottom lip.

"You...— can I clean you up..?" He breathes out. "Please mommy?"

His voice is hoarse, and before you can even answer, he drops to his knees, his hands bracketing your thighs and his nose brushes against your clothed clit, before his tongue darts tentatively.

Licking and smearing his tongue in the cum that coats your panties, dragging his tongue along your soaked folds, cleaning it up and sucking on your folds through the panties.

With each pass of his tongue, dragging up your plush thighs, a shaky breath leaves him.

"You taste so good..." Looking up at you through bleary eyes, his soft cock still twitching, dribbles of cum staining his already inky suit pants and you card your fingers through his silky strands.

And he shudders at the sensation, eyes nearly rolling back in his head when he feels your thigh rest on one of his lean shoulders, watching with wide eyes as you slowly peel your panties to the side, slippery folds just in front of him.

And God, does it feel like dangling a carrot in front of a donkey.

"I think you missed a spot, honey."

[curekibouka-writing]

Look at OP’s tags omg 😂

Have you seen Lilia's vignette yet? Our insight into his initial parenting skills sure was, something.

HA HA YEP, Lilia's. questionable parenting has come up a few times and it's always, like, he read Baby Instructions 101 and went "ooh, I like red, I'll do those ones :)". he has Dad Instincts, but unfortunately they are Stereotypical '90s Sitcom Dad Instincts.

it was, however, worth it to see Sebek (watching Lilia gleefully dunking a bat into a coffee cup) just slowly turn to Silver and go "how the fuck are you alive".

[bi-mirandalawson]

mishanks makes me craaazzy