#THE FUCKIN ORION WAS SO COOL

[chipswsalsa]

i just went to the houston space center and oh my god that was so fucking cool god i love space i love science oh my god

[yeyinde]

I’M ON FIRE  ⋮  THOMAS HEWITT | LEATHERFACE ☓ READER

sometimes it’s like someone took a knife, baby

edgy and dull and cut a six inch valley through the middle of my skull

at night i wake up with the sheets soaking wet

and a freight train running through the middle of my head

only you can cool my desire

A shudder rolls through his massive frame and it makes your heart twinge with that greedy type of want that’s never quenched no matter how many times you see his eyes widen at your open, honest affection, at the love you pour into his skin, and the way you worship his flesh. It sits heavy in your pericardium: always there, always wanting. Never satisfied no matter how much of him you consume.

(You never quite understood the meaning of hunger, of want, until you met Thomas. 

It's a good thing, then, that there's just so much of him to devour.)

⤷tw: shameless Thomas Hewitt body worship/worship in general. softcore smut. so sickeningly sweet it'll rot your teeth. ultra light breeding kink. ultra explicit size kink. gendered terminology (female gendered body parts). no substance - just smut and fluff

You trace the constellations into his worn, rough palms - Ursa Major, Cassiopeia, Centaurus, Orion - and murmur to him about the universe, the sun, and stardust. 

Thomas makes no noise as you etch your fantastical stories into the white-hot skin of his palm. He listens, intently, as you speak; his burning gaze fixed on the way your mouth moves, gentle and soft, around the unfathomable cosmos that you don't, entirely, think he understands. But he likes the sounds you make - the way your lips mould around the words, and the susurrus lull of your voice as you tell him about quasars and moons and the intricate gases of the Nebula that you don't really understand much, either. You echo the words inside the books you've read and try to find your place in the limitless, infinite galaxy. A place, you know, will be just for the two of you. 

When the curve of Orion finishes and you've exhausted your knowledge of Betelgeuse, you bring his massive paw up to your lips, press a kiss in the deep divot of his fate line, and hope that somewhere along the linear curve, your name sits. That inside the harsh, rough crevasse is a world where the two of you gaze at the stars and find yourselves between Virgo and Leo, locked in an eternal embrace where nothing can hurt you and the world doesn't matter. 

(Like here: in this humid room you haven't left since mid-morning, where just the two of you exist in a little microcosm that smells like the sweat on his skin and feels like home.)

The heat of his palm almost scalds your lips.

Thomas burns as hot as the summer sun. A constant inferno that scorches you when you touch him. It burrows into your flesh, warming you from the outside in. 

It might be the lingering fever: a mid-July cold that had him bedridden for nearly a week. His immune system isn't the best, Luda Mae said. Colds take him a while to recover from. You coddled him - much to the derision of Hoyt. 

("Stop babyin' the idiot already," he snaps at you as you bring down an empty bowl of soup. "He's a man, goddammit, not a fuckin' child."

You trade off the bowl with Luda Mae for more water and blow a raspberry at him. "Aww, Charlie, are you upset that no one takes care'a you when you're sick?"

His threat is swiftly cut off by the sharp glare from Luda Mae, who then turns to you, now all soft, motherly smiles, and says, "thank you for takin' care of him."

You don't think she'd be particularly impressed to know that your version of taking care of him meant mapping out the star systems in his skin, and finding nirvana in the way he fits inside of you.)

After nearly a week in bed, tossing and turning in the throes of a fever, it finally broke. You'd spent the rest of the day helping him thoroughly sweat it out. 

The thought of it makes your cheeks flush. Makes that ache inside of you spume.

You never quite understood the meaning of hunger, of want, until you met Thomas. 

He rips open a vacuum inside of you: a festering black hole that needs and yearns - insatiable - for more. It's a constant ache that drives you delirious with the urge to consume him whole. But no matter how much you try to stem the rapacious chasm, it's never satiated, never full. 

(It's a good thing, then, that there's just so much of him to devour.)

Your lips part, tongue rolling over the line to get a taste of his molten flesh. 

Thomas smells like sin and tastes like warm milk and honey. 

A shudder rolls through his massive frame and makes your heart twinge with that greedy type of want that's never quenched no matter how many times you see his eyes widen at your open, honest affection, at the love you pour into his skin, and the way you worship his flesh. It sits heavy in your pericardium: always there, always wanting. Never satisfied no matter how much of him you consume. 

Your thirst for his taste is unending. 

His other hand flexes on his thigh. A nervous, fretting tick when the kittenish way you lap at his palm becomes too much. The movement draws your eyes to the bulk of his legs which are almost as big as the trucks on the Magnolia trees down the road. Your mouth runs dry at the sight. 

It's easy to worship him, you think. Easy to press offerings into his flesh, and sings hymns into the soft, plush give of his stomach. 

"Thomas…" you whisper his name softly into the humid summer night, tone drenched in that voracious need that never really goes away. 

The sound of his name spilling from your lips makes him flinch,  a low whine rolls up his throat, muffled by the pursed press of his lips. You like the sounds he makes. The grunts and the whimpers. The groans and the huffs of breath into your neck when you sit in his big lap and whisper praise into his ear. 

You'd spent most of the day with him nestled in bed with you. He rutted inside of you over and over again until you were filled to the brim with him - his scent, his sweat on your body - and even now, hours later, you're still hungry. You can't get enough of him. Parched for his touch. His taste. 

You bring both hands up to cup his wrist, tugging him gently toward you. 

He makes another noise in the back of his throat. A wanting trill that burrows into your chest and sends liquid heat to your abdomen. 

There is an almost needy haze in his eyes when you meet his gaze. If you're not careful, you think you can easily get lost in the endless cyanic that stares up at you, soft, pleading, irises almost entirely eclipsed by his widening pupils. The fathomless black of the cosmos has nothing on the endless pools of cerulean in front of you. 

"C'mon…" you say, and he goes, willing. Eager. He rocks up on his knees, his frame easily towering over you. Large. Indomitable. He eclipses you entirely, blocking out the soft light from the candle flickering on the bedside table. 

Kneeling over you like this, he looks every bit of a Cimmerian god meant to be revered, admired. The messy curls on his head, moussed from the sweat of the summer swelter and his lingering fever, and the many times your fingers threaded through the locks, falls over his forehead when he bows his head and stares at you underneath him. 

And you, as always, stare back.

It makes him twitch; embarrassment, and shame prickle across his expression. His chin quivers, turning slightly away from the open way you swallow him whole with your look. You tut softly, a gentle warning that no, that's not allowed here, in this space made just for the two of you. 

Thomas frets under your admonishment; the hand still in your hold shakes, and you're quick to soothe his worry with a wet kiss to his thundering pulse. You suckle the thrumming vein until another mark sits on his flesh. By the end of the night, when the moon is nigh in the aether and the ocherous smear of the hazy coruscating sun breaches the inky black above you, his whole body will be a mosaic of your reverence. A testament to your devotion. 

(The thought thrills you. You love seeing your mark pressed into his sunkissed flesh: a red map of Orion across his chest and Cassiopeia over his shoulder.)

When he quiets, when his shoulders ease from the coiled, self-conscious hunch that makes him feel like he's smaller than what he is, what he ever could be, you offer him a small, reassuring smile. He huffs at the sight of it, his broad chest deflating with the deep exhale. Relaxing above you at the wordless praise in the tilt of your mouth. 

It amazes you just how much self-doubt lingers in the broad vastitude of his neverending bulk, but you're determined to wash it all away with each nip you scour into his body. Slowly, slowly, because the last thing you ever want is to make him nervous, scared. 

But that doesn't matter with Thomas. The trust in his gaze shines as true and effortless as the love and affection in the abyss of blue that tugs at your heart each time you look over at him and find that mushy, misty-eyed look in his expression. It steals your breath away each time. A paradox that you can't even begin to unravel.

He's so massive. So big. An unstoppable force. But he gives you so much power. He lays everything in your hands, as gently as possible, and looks at you like you're responsible for the smattering of stars that gleam across the astronomical cosmos.

Thomas looks at you sometimes, and the weight of his gaze makes you feel like the most powerful being in the universe. It's an odd little juxtaposition coming from a man who looks like the personification of Hercules. A sentient mountain.

He tugs out his heart, such a precious treasure, and hands it to you for safekeeping next to your own, where they beat congruent. 

"You're perfect," you say, a little drunk on the dazed way he makes you feel. The power he gives you. 

His breath catches in his throat at your unexpected words, chin ducking bashfully to his broad chest. A man this enormous shouldn't be as cute as he is, as endearing. It jars into you, and makes your stomach flutter when you catch sight of the red staining his ears, his cheeks. 

Your eyes greedily follow the rufescent plume that snakes down his throat, his chest. 

It gleams with his sweat. With red smears from your nips and kisses on his skin. The thick bed of hair hides most of your work, but his nipples - reddened from your mouth - peek out from the blanket of tight curls across his upper chest. Your gaze follows the trail. The hair dissipates over the curve of his stomach. His belly hangs, paler than the rest of his body, and partially concealing the flushed cock between his legs that twitches under your appraisal, your wanting stare. 

Thomas is big - everywhere - and you ache with the reminder of the way he stretches you, stuffs you full of him until you're clinging to the precarious precipice of that inexorable pleasure-pain that lacerates up your spine. He fills you in a way that knocks the air from your lungs. That makes you keen into the sheets. 

But despite his sheer size, he's so, so gentle with you. 

He doesn't fill you up entirely - always so worried about hurting you - no matter how much you asked him for it. During the last several couplings, he fisted his hand around the base of his cock, and slowly rocked into you, not giving you the entire length of him, not pushing in too deep. It was good - so good - like it always is, and even with half his length inside of you, the girth alone steals the air from your lungs; but this time, you're determined to get all of him.

All of what he has to offer. You want him to devour you whole. To swallow you up in his heat, his touch, his caress. You want to fuse your limbs together until you can't find the space that separates you anymore. A tangled web of sweat-slicked skin and that haze of pleasure that makes you feel drunk on the sensations he wrought from your body. 

The thought alone makes your heart hammer in your chest, and your gaze waver. Your misty eyes slide down to the thick, hairy thighs that kneel between your legs. You want to touch him. To grasp at the flesh there as he pounds into you. 

It's been so sweet thus far. So soft. So gentle. And now you want him to mess you up. You want Thomas to take whatever he wants from your willing body. Take what he needs. 

(To give you what you need.)

Your eyes roam his body again - greedily, appreciative, wanting - and you hear the hitch in his breath. His cock twitches; a bead of pre-cum dribbling out of his engorged, flushed head. 

"Please…" you whimper, and his whole frame trembles once again. The rattle of an earthquake. The bed shakes with him.  

His hand drops to the pillow behind you, and you immediately follow, lowering yourself down, matching his pace until your head rests against the bed; Thomas bracketing you from above. He stretches out, yawning over you like the infinitely dark cosmos; a Stygian King. You see Orion in his eyes. Map Cassiopeia in the dusting of birthmarks and blemishes that line his thick face. You see forever in the way he stares back at you. 

Your thighs spread as far as you can manage - wanting him, needing him closer - but it's still not enough. He's too big. You're too small. But somehow, he feels like a perfect fit. The drag of his tummy settling over yours makes you mewl; the weight of it, of his body on top of you, makes you pant and gasp into the balmy air. 

You whisper more praise into his ear when he finally rests on top of you - right where he belongs - and pull his hand down until it lays on your breast, a wordless plea for more. He shudders above you when your hardened nipple catches the rough skin of his palm, a callous making your thighs squeeze his sides, and he quickly kneads the flesh you offered him. 

The soft give of his body feels good. You reach up and trace the stretch marks covering his belly and chest, cooing softly when he whimpers. He doesn't cover himself up as much as he used to. You've kissed every silvery line on his body. Every scar and dimple. Thomas knows you love every part of him - even the ones he tries to hide. He knows you want him. Need him. He knows because you tell him so every day. Your lips kiss prayers into his flesh until he's a quivering, whining mess. Until his ears burn red and his chest is flushed the perfect hue of roseate that makes your mouth water. 

"Want you…" you murmur into his shoulder, flicking your tongue out to lick across a small stretch mark that dips into his underarm. The rough scratch of his hair feels good against your tongue. 

His hips buck into you, his belly ripping against yours with the sharp movement. His thighs drag across the delicate skin on the inside of your legs, and the rasp of his coarse hair rubbing against the soft, sensitive flesh makes you gasp into his shoulder. His cock - tacky from the slowly drying mess of being inside of you for most of the day and white-hot to the touch - slides so deliciously over your mons and lower stomach, that you can help but to cant your hips up in response, eagerly seeking more of him. More of his touch. 

Fuck, you can't get enough of him.

"Please, Thomas…" it's all he needs to hear, but it's not enough for you. The adulations slip from your lips until he's quivering above you, your lower belly covered in the messy smear of his excitement. His cheeks are stained sunburn red and you push to make them blister. "Please, I want you so bad-"

His hand pulls away from your breast, reaching down to take hold of his cock. Your breath stutters in your chest when the head drags between your folds, pressing against your aching pussy. You're so wet. So messy from his cum. He's filled you so many times today. Your hand slips below the flesh of his belly, pressing against your naval where you can almost feel a little budge. 

"You filled me up so much today, Thomas," you pant into his shoulder, nuzzling your lips into his skin. He trembles above you, letting out a deep whine. His cock rubs through the mess still spilling out of you, jerking sharply at your words. "You wanna gimme more, baby?" 

He keens, his head dropping down to your neck as he ruts into you, desperate and wanting. He likes it. Likes filling you up. Making you messy with his cum. Likes watching it slowly drip out of you just so he can push it back inside after. 

Thomas isn't normally so open, so honest, about his desires. He hides it as if it was something to be ashamed of. But with the sickness still clouding his mind, spooling over his inhibition, he lets it out. Let's you see the things inside his head he covers up, that he pushes aside. 

You like it a lot more than you thought you would. The warmth deep inside of you when he cums, head tossed back in euphoria, mouth open as he groans, whines, deep in his chest. The sloppy way he thrusts inside of you with his release, as if he can't help himself, as if he can't get enough of you. 

The glossy sheen of his eyes when he drops to his elbows, burying his head in the crook of your neck, nuzzling your skin after he finishes makes your heart thrum with contentment, and affection; both so visceral, they bludgeon into you like a club. 

You wiggle your hips, unable to stop the molten ache billowing inside of you at the prospect of having Thomas fill you so deeply once more.  

"Please, Thomas," you whisper again, splaying yourself under him like an offering. "Please-"

He's there before the next plea finishes rolling off of your tongue. The scalding press of his cock inside of you has the cosmos flashing across your eyes. Phosphenes dance behind your eyelids when you squeeze them shut against the delicious ache, the burning stretch, of him splitting you open, carving out a place inside of you meant just for him. It's good - too good - and you can't stop the hiccuping whines from tumbling past your parted lips, a mindless chant of his name, and more, more, more.

Your legs slide over his, curling as much as you can over his broad back, and you push your heel into the rounded softness of his ass, forcing him deeper.

He whimpers. His hand fumbles. You reach out, fingers curling around his elbow, tugging his hand up. 

"All of you, Thomas," you gasp into his ear, pleading and wanting. A needy keen wells up in the back of your throat. "All of you - I want all of you."

And Thomas -

He can never say no to you when you beg him so prettily.

He breaks, and the way he crumbles has you seeing stars when he fills you so deeply. Pushing in until he can't anymore, until his hips are flush against you, and his cock is burrowing past the limits of what you can take, of what you can handle. It's so hot. The searing heat, the ache, jars into you like a sledgehammer, and you whimper at the too-full feeling of him stretching you. He brushes against a spot that makes you keen, that makes you feel that intense whiplash pleasure as it ricochets down your spine, pooling liquid bliss in your belly. 

You're pinned under his sheer bulk, but you can't help the way you shudder and arch into him. It's good, too good, and the pleasure lacerates through your core as he ruts into that tightly winding coil deep inside of you that spumes with molten ecstasy. 

You chant his name into stifling air, breathless and quaking from the undulated pleasure he brings you; the way his body moulds over your frame has you mewling, and panting at the smoulder of his suffocating heat. 

It's dizzying. Intense. The inferno of his heavy body nearly smothers you. You tip your head back before hypoxia settles in. Black smears moult across your vision when he moves, when he pulls back, the thick drag of him inside of you makes your toes curl in bliss. 

Thomas' thrusts are messy. Unpractised despite the numerous times he's fucked into your willing body. It's cute. Endearing. The eager, desperate way he pushes into you makes your head heavy with a pleasured slurry of endorphins and dopamine. 

"You feel so good-," he moans at the sincerity in your slurred words, and bucks into with a deep cry. The force of it sends you reeling. It makes your head feel gummy with that gossamer of euphoria that grips you tight when he makes noises like that. "Oh, god, Thomas-"

You pull your hand out from under his body, dropping it down to grip his plush hip, the flesh bulging between your spread fingers. It dredges up another squall from his chest, and he rocks forward, his head pressing down into the crook of your neck. His breath is hot on your skin. His hair tickles your cheek. Your other hand slips into the messy locks, nails scraping over his scalp in a way that makes him twitch inside of you, hips jerking into you - fast, hard. The force of it has you wailing his name, and your body tensing with the sudden pulsating pleasure gnashing inside your abdomen. 

You're close, you think, deliriously careening toward that precipice of pure nirvana only he can bring you to. 

His thrusts are sloppier. Sluggish. You can see the fatigue drenching his brow under the rivets of sweat that pour down his hairline. You lost count of how many times he's been inside of you today; how many times he held you down and fucked you until you cried into the sheets with his name turning into a hymn on your tongue. Your skin is soaked with him - his metallic, ozone scent, the slickness of his sweat, his saliva - but you want more. 

You're always wanting. Always hungry. He makes you feel ravenous; a need so deep, so infinite, that it's never satisfied, never quenched. You're always yearning for more. 

You're drunk on the taste of him. Addicted to the way his flesh feels under your palms. You breathe rapture into his pores and sing about your eternal devotion to him. Thomas shivers under the intense way you eulogise your matins in his name. 

The slick sound of him rutting into you sends jolts of pleasure to your core. 

You pull him deep, holding him tight to your smouldering body as he rocks inside of you, grunting in your ear. With the raspy way he whimpers, the hitch in his breath when you shift your hips to take him as deep as you can, you know he won't last much longer. 

Your paean turns into a breathless miserere in his ear, one that makes his chest reverberate with a deep grunt in response to the pleading way you prose your love for him. His hips stutter into yours with fevered desperation. The frenetic way his cock pistons into your oversensitive body makes your chorale turn into a nonsensical babble of choking whines and hysterical moans. You rasp out his name - a fervid plea as hedonism congeals inside your marrow, making you cant your hips into his as he sends you toward that rapturous edge.

Each jarring thrust spools an incandescent heat in your lower belly, where the blunt head of his cock slams into the soft, spongy wall that has you burning with bliss, and bucking into the molten feeling that gnashes into the base of your spine. It coils tighter and tighter inside of you until Thomas drops to his elbows above you, the force of his body resting on yours, lax with his exhaustion and out of his mind with pleasure, sends the scant vapours in your lungs rushing out as his weight descends on you, pressing you deeper into the mattress as he batters into you. 

You can't breathe. You choke in greedily lungfuls of air to sate your oxygen-starved mind as each plunge Thomas makes into you wrenches it out. 

All you can do is take it as he gorges himself with your body and renders you into a mindless, mewling mess under his bulk. 

You can't get enough of this. Your fingers dig into his sweat-slicked skin, wanting him closer despite the ache in your lungs and white-hot lashes of pleasured pain that chisels into you. It's so good, so good, so -

Your toes curl, muscles spasming with the electrifying force of the release Thomas dragoons out of you. 

His name is wrenched from your throat, and you cling to him as your vision whites out under the deluge of pleasure. 

Each thrust cudgels into you. In the kaleidoscope haze of phosphenes, you see Orion in the milky gossamer. The fulgent prisms erupt into static before shuddering out of existence where the effulgent face of Thomas swims in front of you. The look on his florid face when he cums clots behind your ribcage where it sits just as heavy as his body over yours. It's that coalescence of feverish delirium and the sfumato of delectation that percolates into your pounding heart, making it swell from the sheer elation he brings you. 

You can feel his hips stuttering as he rides out the last throes of his orgasmic haze, spilling liquid embers into your body. His body quivers under your hand. You scratch at his crown with your nails when he blubbers into your neck, mewling at the oversensitive feeling of your walls, molten and drenched with his release, clinging to his spent cock. 

You might have pushed him beyond his mettle tonight. There is a stab of guilt in your pericardium as he slumps into your embrace, quaking with the aftershocks of your greed and gluttonous insatiability, but it's gone when you feel his humid pants into your neck, the blunt press of his teeth to your skin. 

You coo softly to him as he trembles over you, your hands petting the body you so thoroughly worshipped today to ease the strain in his quivering muscles. 

When he lifts his head, you slide your palm to the base of his neck and kiss the nasolabial space between the decayed remnants of his nose and his cheek. He flinches, shying away from the soft kiss. He tries to hide his face from your view, shoulders trembling under the nervous thrum of shame, shyness, and embarrassment. You hate the look in his eyes - the ghost of self-abasement that sets your teeth on edge and makes your heart prickle with agony. 

"Don't be so mean to the love of my life," you murmur softly, tracing Orion into his shoulder. 

Thomas jerks his head up at your words, eyes widening. You hate the shock in his expression whenever you confess your love to him - like he doesn't think he deserves it. It makes your stomach churn with sorrow. How could this man not see how much you want him? How much you adore him? 

"Yes, silly," you pepper more kisses over his face, smiling at the flush you can feel scalding your mouth. "I mean you."

Thomas nuzzles into your affection like he's starving for it, and you're determined to make him surfeit by the end of the night. 

It's when you stretch your legs out that he shakes from his exhausted revere, jerking back with noises of distress and worry spilling from lips in a rapid cacophony of sorrow and concern. Thomas pulls himself up, looking over at you with contrition bunching up in his brow. 

"It's okay," you soothe him and try to hide the way you greedily suck in deep breaths without the pressure on your chest stemming the flow. "I'm fine."

He doesn't believe you. Compunction pinches the corners of his mouth. 

"Thomas," you whisper, but he rises to his knees and drops his head into his hands, shoulder shaking. "Tommy, baby-," you sit up, wincing at the ache inside of you, the tacky mess between your thighs, and reach up to grasp at his wrists. Your thumb and forefinger never meet. There's a width of space the size of your own wrist between them. 

You can't say that the sight of it, the sheer vastitude between the difference in your sizes, doesn't make you pant. 

"Tommy," the breathless tenor of your voice makes him look up, and you grin at him. "Baby, I love when you crush me-"

It's the wrong thing to say. He squalls deep in his throat. Morose shutters over his expression. He tries to cover his face up again, but you squeeze your hands. 

"Baby, baby… I'm sorry," you say, not at all apologetic for the words, per se, but certainly the timing. "I love your body, Thomas. I love the way you feel on top of me. I can't get enough of it." 

His whimpers begin to quiet, but the rueful look in his eyes doesn't lapse. 

You huff and slowly clamber to your knees in front of him. He watches you, body coiled like a whip -as if he is waiting for punishment. 

You draw his hands close to you, and pepper kisses all over his palms, his fingers, his knuckles, his dorsal, his wrist. 

"I love your big hands and the way they hold me so tight…" you glance up at him, watching him as you slowly lap at his pulse. "I know you'd never hurt me, Thomas. You're so gentle. So kind." His breath stutters in his chest when you nuzzle along his arm, your lips tickling the sensitive flesh in the crook of his elbow. 

It seems you aren't finished with your quixotic hymns. The look on his face spurns you on, makes your chest froth with liquid affection, adoration. 

"I love your arms, you know that. I love when you wrap them around me and hold me close. I love the way they swallow me up," you huff out a small blissful laugh. "You're so big, baby - god - it's amazing. I feel so small next to you." 

You press your head into his chest, breathing in the heady scent of sex and ozone that clings to him, letting it fill your senses. It makes you dizzy. Makes your head feel mushy with contentment. You slide your face up until just your chin rests against his sternum.

The open, raw, look in his eyes makes you keen low in your throat. 

"You're so big, and I feel so safe in your arms, Thomas. So protected. You'd never intentionally hurt me, right?"

Noises of distress immediately pour from his lips as his head quickly jerks to the side in an emphatic refusal. 

"I know you wouldn't," you dip your head down, pressing a kiss over his heart, feeling the rapid pulse beating under your lips. "I trust you more than anyone in the whole world." 

Thomas shivers. His body wracks with tremors under the sincerity, the bluntness of your words. 

Your hands drop down from his wrists, sliding over the smooth curve of his belly. He flinches, blushing scarlet at the way your nails scratch through the coarse smattering of hair you find. 

"I love your belly," you drop down, following the path your fingers took with gentle kisses to his flesh. His belly quivers. Your lips sink into the plump skin. "Fuck… I really love it. Love how soft it is compared to the rest of you. You're so bulky. So hard, strong… But here-," you nuzzle your nose into his luscious skin, words laced thick with an amatory drawl. "You're so comfy." 

Your gaze drops to the soft cock now hidden behind the bulge of his stomach, and your grin turns wicked, eyes burning with desire. You can feel him give a small twitch when your hands brush over his mons, fingers playing with the thick bed of coarse curls. 

"And you know how much I love your-," his whine cuts you off, and you chuckle in response. He's overstimulated. You've worn him out today. You slide your hands down, resting the flat of your palm over his legs. His skin scalds you. The smear of hair tickles your skin. "-Thighs," you finish with a wink. 

Thomas huffs above you, the flush deepening as it spreads over his chest. You can tell he's growing restless under your arduous exploits in making him acutely, pointedly, aware of just how much you love his body and how good he makes you feel. 

His belly ripples when you pull away from him, and the sight makes your mouth quiver. Your hands snake around his thighs, squeezing the generous globes of flesh you find when you reach up and grab his ass. He squawks, flinching when you do. It pushes his belly into your face, and press one last kiss to the tumid flesh offered to you before you pull away. 

Mournfully, you release your grip on his succulent flesh, and slide your hands up his back, feeling the taut ripple of his muscles under your palms. He's so brawny. So stalwart. You love the contrast of his soft belly and the hard, burly planes of shoulder blades and thick thighs. 

Your arms loop around the nape of his neck as you press your body firmly into his. The hefty bulk of his body fills you with an intense concupiscence. The way his bare skin moulds to yours has you seeing Antares behind your eyelids. 

"I love every part of you," you murmur into his chest, words breathless and heavy with desire. 

Even on your knees, your head barely brushes past his sternum. It's supposed to be a tender, loving moment, so you pretend the absurd girth of him, the length, doesn't make your mouth water. Doesn't whet your appetite. 

After a whole day of rolling around in the sheets, you still want more. 

"Every single inch." You punctuate your words with a kiss. A smile. 

Nervously, he returns it. It's just a quake of his mouth to the side. A crooked, lopsided grin. But it sends a thrill down your spine. 

"I love you." 

He bleats in response, eyes lidded and heavy with fatigue. He's still on the mend. You can hear the residual sickness in his voice, feel it in the humidity clinging to his rubicund skin. 

"Let's get you to bed, now, yeah?" 

He nods, eager, sluggish, and his arm wraps around your waist, tugging you close to his body before he leans down, his other hand balancing on the mattress. Thomas lays on his side, pulling you down with him, before rolling onto his back, arm opening wide, beckoning you forward. 

You smile down at him, the mushy thrum of affection swelling inside once more, and clamber into your space on his chest.

Thomas pulls you close, tucking you in to the folds of his side where you fit like a puzzle and he feels like home. You lean up, brushing his hair away from his sweat-slicked forehead, and press one last latria to his skin, murmuring your devotion into his flesh.  

When you lay on his chest, his heartbeat marches in tandem with your own, dragging out another smile that tugs on your lips. Thomas nuzzles your crown, cooing wordless adherence into your hair. He kisses your crown, and a sappy, soporific haze shudders over you; somnolence seeps into your marrow when his arm drapes over your shoulders, locking you to his side in an unyielding hold. 

You settle into his embrace, tracing constellations into his kiss-bruised chest. He fits around you like a Magellanic cloud, and you think you'll never be satisfied when he reels you into his gravity without evening knowing the magnitude of his pull. Thomas is the sun, and you're a tidally locked planet on a rapid spiral from which there is no escape. As he pulls you closer, you contemplate the benison of this perigee and find solace in the fact that your name must be etched into his fate line because you don't think the way his flesh burns into your skin could ever be happenstance. There is no fortuity in the way you fit beside him, and how much he smells like home. 

You belong to him, and if there is no place for you by his side, then you'll rip apart the cosmos until you can find a microcosm meant just for the two of you, nestled somewhere in the middle of Virgo and Leo, in between the infinite everything that threatens to consume you. You'll shred the Nebula apart to be near him because Thomas brings out this need, this want, that spumes inside of you like an unfathomable chasm, and without the taste of his piquant flesh on your tongue, or the heft of body on yours, you might just starve. 

(And if it is a coincidence, well - you'll carve your own kismet into his skin just like you etched Orion into his palm.)

[hunterwritesstuff]

Cain relationship hcs?

Sure thing!

Val - "Fuckin' bitch."(Hated)

Vox - "Thanks for the tech."(Tension)

Velvet - "I don't want my jacket repaired."(Tension)

Hex - "Can ya get my bike delivered by Tuesday?"(Friendly)

Husk - "Thanks for the booze, coolcat."(Friendly)

Shirley - "She seems cool."(Friendly)

Ebony - "Woof woof bark."(Tension)

Ranni - "Wolf in sheep's clothing."(Tension)

Alastor - "I don't got anything to smile about."(Tension)

Rosie - "Ehhh who?"(Neutral)

Orion - "So you're the guy dad tossed out."(Tension)

Charlie - "I don't WANT to be redeemed, STOP ASKING."(Tension)

Angel Dust - "Good material."(Tension)

Vaggie - "Cool it."(Tension)

Lute - "You know you won't get with my dad."(Tension)

Adam - "Why did you always prefer Abel over me...?"(Tension)

Jax - "Dude, you REEK of evil."(Hated)

Lucifer - "Hmph."(Tension)

Peter - "Fuckin' bitch."(Tension)

Astrid - "Too nice for me to trust."(Tension)

Lilith - "Damn."(Tension)

Eve - "You didn't even try to get him to like me."(Hated)

Dante - "Motorcycles are cooler."(Tension)

Bob - "Fuckin' bitch."(Hated)

Abel - "Wish I could say I regretted it. At first I did. But now, not so much."(Hated)

Hope ya enjoy! :D

[stupidratboii]

@slytherpuff4 @mysemantics

You guys said you wanted to know everything I've noticed about mighty ducks

Here are my thoughts and things I've noticed as of 4/24/23

When they first meet Jesse speaks to Bombay first and claims that "his domain" is a drug free zone

They all thought Bombay has a gun first

Goldberg said he wasn't the goalie for long, he was moving back to Philadelphia

Who dressed these kids.

Connie likes Madonna

The hawks (Adams og team) have the same chant that Orion makes the ducks have in the first half of his coaching

Goldberg hates being a goalie, so why does he do it

Even his team wants a new goalie

Banks is so gay "it'd make great bathroom reading" to a porn mag...c'mon now

Bombays a little funny guy he needs to be so fr

He struggles to say sorry LIKE BFFR 🙄🙄

The only reason the ducks are so good is because Gordon got ducks worth a jersey

Fulton has a lot of rumors going on with him

BOMBAYS COMPLETELY COMFORTABLE WITH DRAGGING FULTON DOWN?! SIR WHAT

Goldbergs jewish

It's always Fulton and Charlie together

Adam has an older brother

QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK MR DUCKS WORTH QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK

Fulton has really nice handwriting (writing the principal thingy) like really really nice handwriting holy shit

Karp (Tommy) shoving Peter in his locker

BANKS IS SO INSECURE PLEASE HES SO SWEET LEAVE HIM BEEE

ooo the Jessman

Jesse's dad and Charlie's moms friendship is so cute

Guy telling Fulton advice and then winking at connie

Tammy's real mean but she's so cool

Connie and guy holding hands while skating

Fulton and Adam sitting next to each

GUY AND CONNIE HOLDING HANDS (GUY GRABBED HER HAND OMGGG!!)

Adam gets nervous at the sight of his old team

Charlie and Coach cooking together

Charlie's mom used to sculpt and she paints now

She rambles when she's nervous

HEIDI IS SUCH A GOOD MOM 😭😭😭

The driver stays with Bombay the whole season

The ducks in the standing line talking shit

Adam looking away from his old team during the line

Larson (from the hawks) stays with Banks until the paramedics get there

ADAM AND JESSE TALKING DURING THE PARAMEDICS CHECK UP

THE REALIZATION THAT REILLY NO LONGER HAS CONTROL

FULTON OFFERING TO ROCK SOMEONE'S SHIT

FULTONS SLAP SHOTS

HIS CELEBRATION UGH

Fulton flips a guy into the box

"He barely touched em"

Gordon tries out for the minors

That's why he gets hurt in the beginning of d2

Avermans passive aggressive

Coach Orions actor is really good

Fultons actor actually plays more hockey then the rest

Linda is only there for Charlies relationship. She doesn't hold any significance to the story.

Julie's an A student

Dean's wayy nicer to the warriors in D3 than expected

Suddenly in D3, Averman can't stop??? Luis and him switched I guess

Dean's voice gets higher when upset.

Averman does a little dance when dean starts to get undressed in the penalty box

PORTMANS TAKING A DANCE CLASS?

THE ROMANCE BETWEEN JULIE AND SCOOTER WAS UNCALLED FOR AND I WILL NOT STAND FOR IT WHERE DID IT EVEN FUCKIN COME FROM?

Fulton and Portman crushing Orion in a hug

Charlie and his mom just... casually talking next to Luis and some girl swapping spit..

Goldberg suddenly can't (roller) skate in d3 but in D1 they were all Rollin around the mall?

Tommy is never mentioned again

Neither is Tammy

What happened to them?

Did they leave?

What happened to banks?? (His injury)

Kenny's a pessimist

Dean points girls out for Fulton to flirt with?

Wtf happened to Peter?

Charlie tackle hugs Portman after the jv vs v game

Ken was in the Olympics

Russ has an older brother

In d2 Kenny's a fucking menace but in D3 he's all

👉👈🥺 how do I trash talk

Fultons from Stillwater

Goldbergs from Philadelphia, so I wonder who the goalie was before he was there.

FULTON AND DWAYNE HUGGING WHEN THEY WIN THE JUNIOR OLYMPICS

Kenny was there helping Goldberg and Luis prank dwayne

Fulton sucks at flirting

Like literally he's so bad it's insane

Him and Dean laugh about it

It's actually so bad I love him

Why did they change averman and Luis

WHY DID THEY DO THAT TO LUIS OH MY GOD

THEY FUCKED HIM UPPPP

Why is dean like that.

I wonder why Tammy and Tommy's mom wouldn't be happy about hockey

Why was Tammy so mean?

Adam tells people what they can and can't do a lot.

Charlie thinks he'd be a better coach then a player

Goldberg was ab to rock Iceland's shit for calling him big boy and Dwayne and Kenny held him back

Iceland's mechanism is to go for the weak spots and play dirty

THEY HURT ADAMS ARM AGAIN???? HE CANNOT CATCH A BREAK

FULTON SND DEAN SUPPORTING KENNY WHEN HE BEATS THAT ICELAND GUY UP AWWW

THEM JOINING HIM IN THE BOX OMGGG

CONNIES SASSY TURN WHEN SHE TELLS OFF THE ICELAND GUY

RUSS AND CHARLIES FRIENDSHIP<3!!

FULTON AND DWAYNE HUGGING

OMG CHARLIE SETS HIS MARSHMALLOWS ON FIRE!

AVERMANS SINGING 😭😭🙏

Charlie's a Leo

Fulton and Russ looking at each other when doing the team cheer thingy like THE QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK THINGY

Thanks for the breather AND THEN LINGERING EYES?

GOLDBERG LIKES JULIE MAYBE??

Dean threatening someone's life when he hurts Adams arm

Charlie wears vans?

Dwayne plays guitar!! (D2 end scene!)

When Bombay reads off the names when meeting the kids he says Averman, Dave; Conway, Charlie" was Avermans first name supposed to be Dave

The actor for the principal is the same teacher from d3 (Claudia Wilkens)

Dwayne and Fulton hang out a lot and are really affectionate friends? Like they always go for each other when hugging and stuff. ??? Maybe the actors were just close? Maybe there's more :O

[spotsupstuff]

I'VE COME TO RELIEVE YOU FROM THE HOARDE OF BEPPI LOVERS

this is your free ramble pass! feel free to use this ask as an excuse to ramble about whatever random crap you feel like rambling about

hmm..... how about... broadening the worldbuilding horizons a lil with some of the filler Iterators. here's the list of names that i'm slowly workin on to develop into enough of people for my tastes

most well defined of these rn are: Orion, Spore, Gem, Expiation, Rustle, NAE NAE BITCH (Embrace), Vapor and kind of Sadness

with Presence being... finished on account of literally being just IKEA memes the Iterator. that was sister's idea, not mine jglksdmcklsd he's a hippie during the day, creepy fuck during the night. one never knows what's goin on with him, but he's usually sweet n helpful. probably stands in dark hallways with a knife in hand right next to Notos tho. it also has a knife in hand

Orion's Pathway is slowly gaining on importance and characterization!

(quick concept doodle, very much subject to change yet but the mark is most likely gon stay)

he's the 3rd eldest Iterator of the Eo group, finished and brought online about 190 years (Or Honestly More, Fuckers Big n it is all very early on yet) after Boreas' construction. bein the Third means he actually got to socialize with Boreas' antisocial bum (and Zephyr too). all of the Iterator social business that Boreas doesn't wanna deal with he throws at This Kid until Euros comes around. then the two get to share Boreas' "i really don't wanna do this, here you kids go" shit

Orion might look all cool and stuff, but the idea of him wasn't actually even born out of the constellation/myth originally! the idea and also color palette all (will) come from the czech chocolate by the same name

fuckin Love this shit. and just like Orion Chocolate Shop's milk chocolate, Orion's Pathway is a sweet, soft kid that is just a delight to interact with. unlike Boreas, he's an actual angel without any blemishes. he's like the Prince Charming (cinderella 3) of the Iterators... he looks up to ol' Bee a lot <3 his voice claim is Ebucs as of rn

Orion is positioned here on the map (aaaand das Spore right under him <3):

which is Important cuz this darling fucker actually has lore that is very location specific

he serves as something of a physical border/something of a custom office(???) to the Frost's Promise group. works well with how much of a geographical choke point that there is. originally, this wasn't the case including his whole helmet look, but if u caught the whisper of that one war with Iterators in it that i mentioned, then this was it. that changed Orion from a regular Iterator to something of a border guard. the war was between the Ancients of the Eo group and the Frost's Promise group. it happened in the first quarter of Gen 2 ages, so Fish was already around but not Euros

he doesn't actually have a sword n a shield with his puppet, that is mostly mural and such stuff, but the helmet was added to make him look inspiring to his citizens n intimidating to the enemy whenever his image would be projected for whatever reason

he's also something of an old school Phone Operator and had the unofficial title of being the Chief of it just because of his age. after Euros shows up and gets the full hang of the communication systems + handling of the Aeolus Root, most of all Orion's Phone Operator privilages are stripped from him ("oh thank the void." he says, overworked and tired and so excited to get some time for himself. this little hyperactive red fuck is gonna handle it all Just Fine)

stuff for some other filler Iterators:

• Spore's whole thing was that she was originally meant to be one of the first medicine focused Iterator facilities. her placement in the shroom place was done on purpose because as we all know shrooms can get a lil funny in the RW universe. this went wrong though, when the spores of the shrooms got into her systems and started parasiting on her neurons similarly to cordyceps with ants. that is what those jellyfish lookin things stuck on her are!! parasitic neurons already tryin to take her over

a big part of Mission Self-preservation in her case was saving her from the fate that we see her succumbed to at the start of the Ascending Notos comic - her voice claim is something like... Fluttershy but with a Minion from Despicable Me effect/feel to it??? this is the real blorbo of the Eo group fuck everybody else • this is NAE. NAE is a bastard

often bitches about how stupid his name is. then two weeks after the Mass Ascension his arms just kinda Fall Off and he's like "OOOOOH. OOOOOOOOH. *OOOOOOOOOOOOOH!!!* WELL *SOME-FUCKING-BODY* IS GIGGLING FROM THE BOTTOM OF THEIR VOID STAINED BATHTUB, AREN'T THEY. MOTHER. **FUCKER.**" - he's Euros' neighbour and his Mechanic at that time came to help Sparrows out with the 1st Rot situation. Euros likes annoying him a lot • Gem in an Eye is going to be based off of a witch a lil, she's gonna do shit with ✨ crystals ✨ (she's an asshole) • Sordid Expiation will be based off of a nun and will be bitchily religious (unlike Fish who is funnily religious- he's like a conspiracy theorist while Expiation is all serious bleeeeegh boooooo 👎) - Gem and Expiation have a playful rivarly going on, crystals vs religion. with Spore in the friend group, medicine joins in, but when she gets worse with those parasitic shrooms she stops joining in on the play-arguments • Raspy Rustle's voice claim is AnnenMayKantereit and he is a Sweetheart. he and Reed get mistaken for each other often because of the initials n they might end up havin similar chat clrs too. both find it very funny • Vapor is based around the vaporwave aesthetic and is Notos' neighbour. so you have this goth bitch who doesn't care for attention and right next to it is this pastel neon chillax'd music star who cares a LOT for attention (like that one meme with the houses...). her mark is that vaporwave sun and it's splattered all over her face instead of just on the forehead • Sadness is based off of Sad Machine by Porter Robinson- her clr palette will be sampled from the album cover n her voice claim is That song as well. she's closeby to Fish and Likes Writing Poems :')

[bloodgulchblog]

👽 💉 🤖 🥊 and ⭐

👽 - favourite covenant species?

It's Sangheili. I have a simple heart. I see a big lizard alien with a sword and a fucked up warrior culture, I'm like yo that's rad.

💉 - flood, covenant, prometheans, or the banished?

Gameplay: Covenant tbh. Fighting the Covenant just always feels good, they have a very solid variety of guys and the most fiddly mechanic (having to shoot Hunters in the weak points) comes up only infrequently.

Lore: The Covenant is so fleshed out it's also hard to beat them, but the Flood are also pretty cool and I also have a big soft spot for how specifically fucked up the Prometheans are. I just don't care that much about the Banished.

🤖 - orion project, spartan IIs, spartan IIIs, or spartan IVs?

Spartan-IIs, it's no contest. Spartan-IVs have proven to be a definite sleeper hit, though. Halo should touch more on that ethical nightmare. :o)

🥊 - who are you beating the shit out of?

In addition to my previous answer? Alright, I got a list!

Fuckin'.... The Master Builder. Fucking weapons manufacturer war profiteer grifter idiot who made literally everything worse and is responsible for the Flood research he told Mendicant Bias to do that was 1) a horrible war crime against humans and 2) the situation that caused Mendicant Bias to talk to the Primordial and the Flood enough to fall.

Look at how punchable they made his face!!! He looks like he'd be so shocked and offended and deserving.

⭐ - share your favourite piece of halo lore

Spartan-IV, ie the "more ethical" Spartan program depending on adult volunteers, still had four high school kids from Meridian among its very first experimental augmentation surgeries. Because Halo's fucked up like that.

Their names are Victor Gallardo, Evelyn Rousseau, Saskia Nazari, and Dorian Nguyen and we have no idea what happened to them after that. The YA Halo novels were a trilogy that got canceled after the second book, which ended with the kids being offered experimental Spartan augs as their only way to survive some Forerunner shit they were exposed to (while doing work for ONI, no less) that was killing them.

This was abooouuuut 4 years before the first actual class of Spartan-IVs (Palmer's class) was augmented.

If they haven't been killed, they're still out there somewhere.

[ashes-writing]

s w i m | the walking dead ; s.walsh

|| taglist,babes + req rules + send ?s + masterlist + kinktober masterlist ||

** graphics made by me with help from google images /pinterest. the list I'm using for this provided by @the-purity-pen, please do go check out their writing and a huge thanks to them for allowing the prompts to be used. **

𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚛 ; 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚡

Summary ;

---Skinny dipping in the moonlight at the quarry with Shane Walsh

Pairing ;

Shane Walsh x fem!reader.

--- no physical description given beyond having female parts.

Warnings ;

--- minors, abso-fuckin-lutely not. In addition to the prior, outdoor sex - fingering, male giving, eluded to sex, lustful touching, reader is a huge tease and is also one and the same reader from skin and bad intentions.. heavier emphasis on foreplay here, the sexual act itself is hinted at..

--- the people listed below are the only ones I have on my walking dead taglist. If you'd like to be added, click the little link up top.

@beardedbarba

@chieflawyerpastatoad

@krys-orion

@moonileo

You’re too busy splashing around in the quarry pond to notice the way Shane’s leaned against a tree on the sandbar watching you, brown eyes glued to your body as he watches you swim around nude in the moonlight. 

You spot him when you turn around and motion for him to join you. He shakes his head no and he chuckles. “Y’ need t’ get back up top too.”

“But it’s so hot. I need to cool down. You could use a cool down too, Officer.” you’re teasing him now. You know it and he knows it. He smirks and walks out to the edge, where the water meets the sandbar and you make your way up to him, stopping in front of him.

His gaze settles on your wet,naked body as you stand in front of him.

“Ain’t a good idea, princess. I’m supposed t’ be on watch right now.”

“So let that guy Rick take over. He’s been dying to swoop in and play hero since he came out here, maybe he needs to see what that entails. You need a break, officer. All work and no play makes Shane a dull boy.” you’re really teasing him now, walking a finger up and down his chest, letting that finger catch in the hem of an olive green t-shirt that’s seen better days. He grunts and swallows hard, the way your body feels molded against his is just too good.

You’re tugging the shirt up over his head and you let it fall to the sand from your fingertips. He chuckles, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he gazes down at you, just openly fucking you with his eyes. You stop in the midst of unbuttoning his khaki cargos and pout up at him. “Oh my god, would you relax, officer? Live a little. It’s not as if you always have to be in charge.”

He chuckles again. Pulling you against him by your hips because you’d stepped away a little. He’s tilting his head to look down at you. “You don’t know me from a hole ‘n the ground, woman.” he mumbles as his mouth inches closer to your lips and your heart skips a beat or two lazily, his fingers digging against your hips as he moves in for the kill, “I’ll have y’ know, I’m good at relaxin.”

“Says the man who is still standing here dressed and trying to coax me out of my own good time.” you pout up at him as you laugh softly. Teasing him, you reach up to boop the tip of his nose. He snickers to himself and shrugs. “Fuck it. He wants t’ run thangs, let him.” Shane gazes back up the hill at the campground and he’s relieved when he finds that Rick’s taken over for him, sitting on top of the Bronco, eyes fixed on the treeline in the distance and pistol at the ready.

“There y’ go, big boy.” you coax, working the button on his cargo pants free. As you slowly work the zipper down, Shane can feel his cock getting hard enough to break and he bucks himself into you, grabbing your wrist, placing your palm against the thick bulge strained in the front of his boxers and you gasp. “That’s what yer doin t’ me, woman.” he says it in a low tone, warning you. But you just give him this sweet little grin and shrug, biting your lip.

He sheds his jeans and boxers, letting them fall in a heap on the sand and then he’s scooped you up and he’s making his way out into the water with you. Once you’re out far enough, he puts you down. You keep your arms wrapped around his neck and he shivers a little as you play with the back of his neck and stare up at him.

One of you has to make the first move and up to this point, it’s been all you. This is not something Shane enjoys knowing, either. He’s not used to it, he doesn’t like it. He needs to take back the reins.

His hand settles between your thighs, cupping you as he begins to rub and you begin to whimper and whine, rocking yourself against his hand without any hesitation as you nip at the tattoo on his chest. He lets out a quiet growl and mumbles lazily against the shell of your ear, “If y’ were only playin around, hon… Now’s th’ time t’ say so.”

“Fuck me…” you moan out, letting your head fall back as his fingers bury inside your pussy, working you open and stretching you out….

[ratgingi]

hey leans on expensive car full of cool shiny things care to tell me bout that guy i see :3c

grabs you frothing at thw mputh and shaking. boy do i

probably will include spoilers for the game/series hes from idk im going insane over here

but his name is ukyo hes from an otome game c (and anime but the game came first and is my fav) named amnesia: memories

hes so wet and sad and is constantly In A Situation and is so dear to me. amnesia memories was like. the first serious dating-sim-type-game i ever really played and i was drawn to him from the very start like before i even knew anything about him i met him in the game for like 2 seconds and was like oh. you are everything to me

SPOILERS AHEAD BIG SPOILERS BIG SPOILERS

its been a hot minute since i played but frm my memory: hes the original boyfriend for the girl you play as, who dies toward the end of august in a fire, and hes so sad and despressed and fucked up about it that he wishes so hard to bring you back that a god is like Holy Shit sir i am so sorry here let me help you and slings him into a reality where youre still alive. HOWEVER. he does not belong to those realities so the world is Actively Trying To Kill Him. and every time bc he doesnt Belong There youre dating someone else and he has to just kinda watch. and eventually he eats shit and dies and every time the god is like oh fuck oh shit brings him back and slings him into another reality to try again. rinse and repeat a bunch of times and eventually his brain literally splits into two in a desperate attempt at self preservation and this second half (called uraukyo) constantly is trying to kill you. this is because if You die, He will get to live since it makes room for him in that reality or something of that sort . and that makes omoteukyo really fuckin Stressed obviosuly because he loves you so dearly and trying to keep you alive is the reason hes doing this shit in the first place

so hes constantly trying to ensure you the player survive past the date youre supposed to die (becayse you are Destined To Die no matter what. the entire month of august the world is trying to kill you and hes saving you nearly every time and every time he does the world tries Even Harder to nerf you) and eventually the god runs out of power to send him to a new timeline. and is like ok. new plan. this is your Last Chance bozo i cant fuckin help anymore and sends him back in time in his original timeline before you die so he can try and save you

because if you can make it past august in his original timeline, you both get to live

its important to note that this entire time a spirit named orion is like Fused with your consiousness (you find out later this is meant to help protect you or smth, but even He doesnt know that) amd bc of this youve got No Fucking Clue about literally anhthing you have total memory loss and are just having to pretend its fine and you dont bc you and orion decide that you cant trust anyone and if you get sent to a hospital bc the memory loss is bc of Him itll only get Worse if you guys arent activrly out trying to revive it

also ukyo is totally aware of all of this bc orion is the helper of the god whos helping ukyo

ALSO he actively says he does not care if he seems creepy (bc he does a lot of things that make him seem stalkerish/like he knows too much, he warns you of upcoming events since he knows the world will try to kill you there, he knows your schedule and your friends bc again he used to Date You, etc etc its bc of the timeloop shit and all that) and he doesnt care if you hate him he just wants to ensure you live its so sad

im like delusional hes just so sad and miserable and deserves everything good that exists ok

[samusings]

“ what do you want in exchange for it? ”  ( aurora and orion ! )

Question Prompts

Orion has never seen a Ghoul like her before. The air around her sparkled like it was swirled with diamonds, the colors she gives off are a supernatural lightshow guiding the way home for those wayward spirits in the night. She is an Aurora, she is cool under pressure, she is not scorching the air around her, she is not worried. She's not scared, is she? She isn't scared like the humans are. She doesn't seem scared like the old Ghouls are when they look at Orion. Or angry. She's new! She listens to him! Or at least...she seems like it! Orion can only assume so much from these mere instances with her.

"You want...my snack?" It wasn't much, just a muffin stolen from the human's kitchen. The Siblings of Sin were getting the good shit. There weren't cookies or "chocolate chip muffins" in Hell, so Orion was taking this to his advantage! He wanted the damn good stuff! Who knows how long he's gonna be here? Here for a good time, not for a long time! Or maybe a long time too.

"Won't cost you much--" Golden eyes bore into Aurora, threateningly serious as he wagered his eternal price. "Just your soul!"

Holding that grimace for a second, Orion broke into a cacophony of snorts and wheezy laughs. One clawed hand reached out to placate the other, reveling in his clever humor. "Nah! Won't cost you a fuckin' thing, just follow me! We'll get you your own snack! The humans leave everything in plain sight, easy pickings for us, right?"

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #36 — There Are So Many Double-Page Spreads in This Issue, Dear Lord

Four million years ago, before the war, a very special something happened.

That’s right, it’s baby time once again.

Of course, Cybertronians can’t be normal about shit like this, so there’s a brawl going down over who gets custody of all these sparks. Star players include Orion Pax, Roller, Roller’s juice box, and all those college students from the Matrix heist. They’re facing off against the elite guard, who are getting their asses handed to them for what’s probably the eighth time this week.

Christ alive, Windcharger, save the dismemberment for the war, will ya?

Roller jumps off a cliff and transforms, because he’s a cool dude like that, when he suddenly he complains of lumbago. Is he suddenly feeling his age? No, he’s just had eight grown-ass robots timewarp onto his trailer.

Oh shit, Rung’s got his stick! Brainstorm’s about to fuckin’ die.

Back in what is the “present” for MTMTE, Rodimus gives his Time Travel Team (fellas who have compatible spark-types to run the timecase) the skinny on what the plan is: go back to the past, find Brainstorm, beat him up for trying to rewrite time, then be back in time for dinner. Perceptor adds that if Brainstorm isn’t stopped, their current timeline will cease to be, which is a bit of a problem, needless to say. Everyone is pretty high-strung about this situation, save for Tailgate, who’s decided it’s time to get an impromptu piggyback ride from Rewind.

The timecase has geotracking, which is damn convenient for the TTT, but Perceptor’s having a spot of trouble getting the thing calibrated, so things are sort of vague at the moment. Rodimus theorizes that Brainstorm will be targeting Orion Pax, as was established last issue, so they ought to figure out where he is whenever they end up in time. Luckily, Rewind was Orion’s biographer, and knows where they need to be for this first jump.

The gang has a few minutes to pick out some very dangerous toys from Brainstorm’s private collection, something which greatly delights Whirl. Ultra Magnus can’t help but wonder if bringing Whirl along is such a hot idea, but having the incredibly violent, actively suicidal guy tag along is actually part of the plan.

Horrific.

Anyway.

There’s a few rules for this trip: don’t tell anyone you’re from the future, don’t mess with major events, and don’t kill anyone who isn’t Brainstorm. Chromedome’s coming on this excursion to act as white-out, should someone decide to get a little too chatty. They also have a sci-fi bullshit “time phone” to call the Lost Light with, so they can be updated and potentially call for extraction if needed.

Everyone got that? Sure hope so, because it’s time to get back to the start of the issue!

Rodimus basically immediately blows their cover, telling Orion that he’s an Autobot… which is a group that doesn’t technically exist yet. Chromedome and Whirl are also causing some issues just by being there, seeing as Chromedome is still a cop in this moment in time, and Whirl’s in fucking prison. Luckily, assumptions are made, and the TTT can masquerade as the reinforcements Zeta Prime was messaged about.

The gang is taken to the ramshackle base Orion and pals have scraped together, as they get the low-down on this Hot Spot situation— turns out that this is the first one to pop up in a million years, and the Senate’s been keeping it under wraps, in an attempt to keep Functionists from claiming the hand-shaped Hot Spot as proof of Primus being real. We get a taste of Skids’s religious phase, and then Cyclonus points out that there’s something floating menacingly in the sky above them. Nobody’s really sure what it is, but surely it can’t be good.

Anyway, here’s Trailcutter.

Excuse me, Trailbreaker.

With Trailbreaker up from his nap, Orion tells everyone to takes turns using the recharge slab— they only have one, my goodness— and to get to know each other, while there’s enough free time to do so. Rodimus takes this to heart, getting just a touch too handsy with Trailbreaker, who at this point has zero clue who he fucking is. Rung, meanwhile, accidentally gets high on Roller’s special cocaine juice, while Roller has a moment of insecurity over the fact that he’s not an Outlier, and just a plain ol’ One-Percenter. As if that isn’t also rare as hell, by literal definition.

This is when the Time Phone rings, and Orion Pax picks up— that’s right, our glorious co-captain of the Lost Light and leader of this time mission left his secret mission phone where just anyone could pick it up. Anyway, Orion picks up, and who should be on the other end of the line but Megatron himself. Megatron, instead of telling Orion to put Rodimus on the phone, stays on to chat with his once and future nemesis, while Magnus and Perceptor work in the background, having to just listen to this conversation. Megatron worries that his experience on Messatine— the one with Trepan— might have fucked with his brain, perhaps changing him from who he had been prior. Still, he can’t really change what’s happened, only reflect and regret. Orion acts like a centrist, despite admitting that the system Cybertron lives under is a nightmare hellscape. Megatron tells him that he’ll end up joining Orion’s team eventually.

Over with Rodimus, it seems as if rules were meant to be broken, as he’s just told Trailbreaker to stay away from Ofsted XVII, the planet where he died horrifically while trying to be a decent person. Trailbreaker doesn’t really get it, but agrees to do as he’s told, even if it won’t be relevant to him for several million years. Orion finally brings the phone to Rodimus, then gives a recommendation to his book club.

I’m sure this won’t have any negative repercussions in the future.

Megatron isn’t nearly as cordial with Rodimus, demanding to know what the hell’s going on. Obviously, Brainstorm hasn’t been found yet. There’s also this weird radiation drifting into the Lost Light from the past, which is weird.

Hey, wait a minute—

The science team back home does some scans, and we finally figure out what the deal is with that weird thing in the sky: it’s shooting radiation at the Hot Spot. To kill the sparks? Perhaps. However, Rewind has an alternative take— that this is all a big experiment, trying to create Outliers through scientific intervention, and that it’s not going to work, but instead just kill these sparks, and if one day the Functionists take power back and uncover all these positively heinous experiments the Senate is conducting, well, that’ll just give them way more credibility than they’d otherwise have. At least the Functionists aren’t doing baby-murder experiments, am I right?

If this sounds like he’s just a smidge too sure about this hypothesis, it’s because he’s actually pulling from his database, which is just chock-full of alternate history at this point.

Regardless of what exactly the purpose of the radiation is, it’s clear that it needs to be dealt with. Orion orders Trailbreaker to make the biggest force field he can to protect the sparks. Cyclonus says a prayer. Tailgate plants his ass on the ground full of sparks.

The thing in the sky doesn’t like any of this shit, and begins to fire on the group. Glitch is too far away to reach the thing and use his machine-breaker powers, so it’s time to call in the air force.

While the fly boys handle the barrage to the best of their ability, Roller decides to be a hero, by way of taking the spark-teleporter out into the danger zone, so he can get those bad babies to a safer spot. Orion tries to do it for him, but Roller “needs this,” to prove he’s just as good as the rest of the team.

Hey, Rung? I think this guy might be needing your services, homeslice.

While all this is happening, Rodimus gets a call from home base, telling him that Brainstorm’s jumped again, and they’re about to get sent after him. Rodimus demands a few more minutes, seeing as shit has really hit the fan. He finds Chromedome in this shitshow to tell him to not wipe Trailbreaker’s memories, so that he might live.

Roller gets shot, and Orion decides that it’s his turn to be a hero now. He orders Trailbreaker to tighten the forcefield until it’s only surrounding Orion, then has Windcharger toss him through the sky platform. It explodes, and Tailgate develops a minor crush.

Good thing Cyclonus isn’t in earshot.

And so the day is saved, the sparks are sent to Nyon— something which seems to shock Rodimus, as the man who blew up/will one day blow up that city— and Chromedome says his goodbyes, shaking hands with Orion and his crew, thus wiping their memories of the last couple of hours with his mnemo-hand upgrade.

Just as Perceptor whooshes them away, however, Trailbreaker comes up and shakes Chromedome’s hand, much to Rodimus’s horror and everyone else’s dismay. With that, his fate is sealed, and the Time Travel Team is taken to their next stop. Orion and his team forget about what’s happened, thus making it impossible to figure out where Roller disappeared to. And so it was, and so it shall be.

Not the time, Trailbreaker! Not the time.

[alittlebitgoofy]

oooh yeah both daya and orion identify as pansexual! orion said that she talked about it on the show but they cut it out :/. not that you asked but orion is also nb as well.

ANON ORION IS NB?!?!?!? she had some fuckin vibes but holy shit that's so cool!!

honestly seeing them makes me feel a lot more comfortable with the fluidity of my own sexuality and just, not labelling it. and orion being nb just makes me love her more <3 we just some queer enbies (do you have any idea where she said that btw i'd love to see it)

[hunterwritesstuff]

ANGEL DUST RELATIO SHIP CHART PLZ POOKIE

OF COURSE!!!

Val - "..."(Tension)

Vox - "Please don't tell Val."(Tension)

Velvet - "Can ya fashion me a disguise...?"(Tension)

Hex - "Keep this shit quiet, ya hear?"(Tension)

Husk - "He's been a great help!"(Friendly)

Shirley - "She seems pretty chill, seen her once or twice."(Friendly)

Ebony - "Ah, geez...don't take Val up on his offer-hey, wanna cuddle with Fat Nuggets?"(Friendly)

Ranni - "SHEEP!!!! SHEEP!!! SHEE-"(Friendly)

Alastor - "Smiles! He's creepy, but in the like, cool way!"(Friendly)

Rosie - "Y'got any cool suits?"(Friendly)

Orion - "So, uh...if I can ask, what was the kiddo like?"(Friendly)

Charlie - "Thanks for the opportunity, Charlie."(Friendly)

Vaggie - "She helped us get closer, AND she has a fuckin' SPEAR!! What's not to like?"(Friendly)

Lute - "Dangertits but in the derogatory way."(Tension)

Adam - "Cuck."(Tension)

Jax - "GET OUT."(Hated)

Lucifer - "Apple daddy himself!"(Friendly)

Hope ya enjoy! :D Still working out how I write him, but I hope I did him well!

[simping-overload]

Send me a character: Megatron

I'm gonna assume you mean TFP Megatron, if you didn't just send another ask in

First Impressions: sorta thought he was like a fuckin frat boy whos doing drugs for the first time at parties. he has a very nice build, annoyed the fuck outta me when he kept letting Screamer live ngl

Impressions Now: I think he's cool and I love him, minus the trying to cyberform earth-, I love the fact that his fucking head his to fucking big to fully fit in his alt form. would give face squishes but eh would probably try to bite my fucking hands off

Favorite Moment: When Megatron says "Please, Orion there will be plenty of time for catching up. You must rest." So fucking softly- and in my eyes it shows he still has feelings for Orion, and he doesn't want to be mean to his little archivist.

Idea for a Story: Him catching feels for an autobot human, that reminds him a little to much of Orion

Unpopular Opinion: he should've killed Starscream for being a traitor or at least replace him

Favorite Relationship: The one between him and Orion.

Favorite Headcanon: hes a soft mf when it comes to those he likes

[spotsupstuff]

hi i feel as if i haven't been properly invading your inbox recently so i'm here now

First of all-- you are the literal best at making me instantly really attached to characters who aren't supposed to be important but somehow become REALLY important to my silly brain

totally unrelated kndkahf;kshdlh Orion.... ahhhhhh squishy... chocolate... baby... so wholesome.... kjddkbvhioajbsv

also may i insert a humble request for more information on the war. the lore nerd in me is going crazy over the idea of iterator war.

ALSO i know you're not an iterator shipper but-- in your playlist-- this.

this is the most sunstone song i think i've ever heard.

me, creating """""background characters""""" that i know probably won't stick to being background characters like at all:

i'd be pissy and violent if it wasn't Orion of all people i can't be pissy and violent to the goddamn Orion's Pathway, that would make me a horrible fuckin person !!!!!!!!!!

but i fuckin know right!!!!! a war with iterators in it is too interesting and Relatively cool, it's too fun to just let it be

hmmm...... what's some stuff that would.... the Polar war started because of political manipulations and the Aeolus Council was actually the villain in all of this. Frost's Promise was just kind of chilling when the Aeolus Council attacked them in some kind of... very quiet way. possibly an assassination of an important figure, maybe went as far as blowing up one of their Iterators in a sneaky way with only just enough information left on scene to prompt a verbal formal attack from Frost's Promise, asking for explanation and an apology/funds for repairs. the Aeolus Council gets offended and denies everything. Frost's Promise knows that all of That is bullshit so in the name of justice they are the one to first physically attack. of course, this never gets out to anyone in the Eo group outside of the politicians and so the war begins. because information manipulation and censorship is behind like everything all the time

still deciding how long i'd like it to last for, but rn i'm thinking for over five years

the ultimate goal of the Aeolus Council is to make the Frost's Promise group dependant on them. the war will fuck up both's economies, but since Frost's Promise is so much smaller, it will be more devastating to them way more too

a good amount of prisoners that the Eo army takes is taken to the Mildew Perimeter closeby to Sporadic for live experiments. just horrible stuff happening in there. Spore finds out about it at some point and for a good while is too scared to do anything. after all she is very easy to influence, manipulate, make her submit to people and the shroom infection all in her systems isn't exactly helping all of that too well. in the end she secretly comes into contact with the few people who actually see and recognize what the Council is doing and are trying to fight against it. with them, Spore contacts the enemy and helps them break into the camps and evacuate the prisoners under a kind of shaky truce. it was risky, but worth it in the end to her

while Orion by no means is blind to the complexities of war, he still got very angry with Spore when this stuff is found out about few years after the war. he sees it as a betrayal from her- one of the closest allies he as an Iterator had in the whole thing- just going behind his back, behind the fighting lines where he and his comrades in arms are suffering and undoing all of their effort. since a war in the RW world consists of mainly capturing the enemy's forces rather than killing them. he refuses to listen to her for a good while, but when he finally calms down enough to hear her out he lets up and apologizes for blowing up like that. he didn't know. she was right to do it

her communications get heavily crippled as a punishment by the Council for the betrayal, though

other Iterators that joined in the war were Boreas (production of weapons and such), Fish (prisoner camp where they tried to convert the prisoners into dutiful and submissive citizens of the Eo group), Gem in an Eye (more organic based weaponry production), Aftertaste of Disdain (prisoner camp), Sacrosanct Circular Presence (warehouse for materials like medical needs and food/water for the soldiers) and sort of Exclamation of Time (who is a centre of archivists of history and welcomed some witnesses of the war to take notes for the history books from both sides)

the group to the northeast of the Eo group made a deal with the Eo group to protect them from the other possibly entry point Frost's Promise could've taken

Frost's Promise had very few Iterators at that time and most of them weren't all that ready for something like this. they might have like... one or two Gen 1s in there which doesn't sign any good things for them since Gen 1s are the balanced ones

Orion's main three overseers Have chased after enemy Iterator overseers multiple times and few times he managed to overload them with shocks enough to deactivate them. the Eo army's tech support managed to extract some useful information from them

the fact that all of this started because of nasty bullshit from the Aeolus Council is found out only after the Mass Ascension by the Iterators. Orion takes it the hardest, of course, it ruins him hard. he's ashamed to have fought in the name of vile things like that

AND WITH THE GODDAMN SUNSTONE I FUCKIN. i'd snap that shit in half if i could (you enjoyers go wild, i'm just personally very no) however i Will....... admit that i have thought of sunstone a lot while listening to that song yes.

[minimoefoe]

top 5 books?

1. the morganville vampires by rachel caine

about a girl named claire who moves to a new town to start uni but it turns out the town she's moved to (morganville) is a vampire town. it's basically claire and her group of friends getting into trouble for 15 books and it's so fuckin good. and i know 15 sounds like a lot but most of them are 250-370 pages long and there's only 2 that go over 400. so it's not that insane. when i do a reread, i usually read through it pretty fast so all the books kinda blur into one but from what i can remember, i don't think there's any duds in there. every book is great

2. the raven cycle by maggie stiefvater

idrk the best way to summarize this series but basically it's about a group of friends that are tryna search for a welsh king which sounds dumb but trust me it's amazing. these books (there's 4) are very heavy on character stuff and it's just 10/10 like i don't think i've ever felt like i know book characters quite like i know the ones in this series and there isn't a single one that i dislike (but if i had to pick faves it would be ronan and noah)

3. the simon snow trilogy by rainbow rowell

i've only read the second book once and still haven't read the third book at all but i've read the first book like three times and it's god tier. it's very harry potter in that simon snow is the chosen one and the first book (carry on) is basically the deathly hallows of this trilogy because it's the book where simon does his choson one Stuff. but then the books after that are supposed to be like, what happens after the chosen one stuff is done with, yanno? also the first book is a gay enemies to lovers and if that doesn't make you wanna read it then idk what will

4. starcrossed trilogy by josephine angelini

i've only read this trilogy once like 8 years ago but i'm rereading it rn, i'm midway through book 2, and it's so fuckin good idek what to say. it's basically romeo and juliet (hence starcrossed) but with demigods and there's some really cool greek mythology stuff in there. the main focus is on helen hamilton and her love interest lucas but you get to know lucas' whole family and some other people too and they're all cool. my personal fave character is hector, and possibly orion too

that's only four but they're like, my main faves for sure. nothing else that i've read comes close to them i don't think

[helpicant-stop]

sylvester do u have any song recs im asking because you’re a cool and funky person and also i need more songs

YES I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR SO FUCKIN LONG TO BE ASKED THIS

we're going by genres now bitch

vocaloid: check here

dsmp: out of touch by tia jade if by some miracle you haven't seen it yet and also betray somebody by oh no he's here. also if you haven't seen derivakat/kanaya songs yet how the hell are you in this fandom /lh

songs for when you are a cat but also own a copy shop: copy cat by melanie martinez, copycat by vocacircus, my copycat by orange caramel, copycat by billie eilish

stuff that has fairytale vibes: jabberworky, tarts, winter moon, come little children, the willow maid all by erutan; sera was never cover by alina gingertail {erutan also has one on her instrumental channel the menagerie}; le bal des chats by cecil corbel

songs that are kind of dark but have fantastic vibes: the evelyn evelyn album {cw because i'm pretty sure sandy fishnets is about pedophilia}; the murder of jane crow {my lobotomy is a banger but cw for alcohol and [you guessed it] lobotomies}; we're all mad by the circus contraption; death of the cog by the cog is dead; blood right by madame macabre {fun fact i found this song about 4 years ago via a now deleted gachaverse series }; the silent by tragic tantrum {cw for like slight ableist language, parasitic behaviour, eating someone inside out without consent and general disturbing themes}; bully boys by the tiger lillies {this isn't even dark i don't think it's just a little quirky goofy silly and a little weird}

song that feels like if queer people turned the colour purple into a drink: all dolled up and cosmicandy girl by the orion experience {see also: adrianne by the orion experience. it doesn't have the same vibe i just love the song in general}

old songs with good vibes: the george baker selection {favourites are dreamboat and una paloma blanca} and bad girls by donna summer

metal/rock??: yorktown and monster ball by butcher babies; inkya impulse from asobi asobase {shoutout to the unused one that also slaps}; this guy called falkkone who makes banger covers {they did baby shark for april fools once and i listen to it every morning as motivation/hj}; linzey rae {she has her own band but she made a cover of shut up and dance like 6 years ago and i love it}; pisces by jinjer; idol, telephone, and toxic covers by lauren babic; anything by babymetal {but i love iine and shanti shanti shanti}; age age money by ladybaby; the in-between and as above, so below by in this moment; lies behind your eyes' cover of fake love; our last night's 7 rings cover; everything by the oozes but specifically wanker, bitchboy and cryin' (like a baby); the cover of usseewa by futakuchi mana

stuff with unplaceable genres but are really poggers: tantrum, maggots and daisy 2.0 by ashnikko and brutus by buttress {cw for murder}; undertaker by graveyardguy {cw for ??? weirdly graphic suggestive themes and a mention of maggots}

hyperpop: anything by dorian electra but specifically my agenda and ram it down; the friday remix and personal by rebecca black; toxic by pussy riot {cw for blood and a mention of a dick}; legend by alice longyu gao and alice glass; this one mashup of faceshopping by sophie and nicki minaj's monster verse or something; in my mouth by the black dresses {cw for suggestive themes}

this one artist with a genre that i can't describe: lil mariko but specifically boring and i'm baby {cw for suggestive themes in a lot of them}

songs that absoputely SERVE: fashionista by jimmy james; immature couture by poppy; hot couture and robbed by manila luzon; my beauty by beauty freak ft. malee; let's face it i'm cute by 11 acorn lane

poppy: poppy. she does like. so many genres you're bound to find at least one thing that bangs but for more pop-ish stuff go to girls in bikinis/am i a girl, for stuff that sounds like 90s rock (?) her and so mean are banger, for stuff that sounds calming go to poppy's christmas album or the majority of flux, for her like electronic(??) aggressive loud soundy stuff in a similar vein to derivakat's revived i really like the eat ep {cw for: political shit in CUE, antinatalism (???) themes in breeders and an ed in EAT} and the extras in i disagree. her music also frequently features screams! bite your teeth is i think one of the most traditionally metalish ones she has and i have no idea where meat, voicemail and choke fall but boy do they bang {cw for themes of consuming humans/slaughterhouse practises and asphyxiation}; she also has instrumentals, like music to scream to

also no idea what genres these are: jazmin bean's music bangs and is also really diverse. my personal favourites are super slaughter and worldwide torture but they're all amazing

musicals: lizzie the musical, especially the house of borden {general cw for domestic abuse, poison, food poisoning, death, prison and murder} ; the guy who didn't like musicals, especially join us and die {cw for gross cult shit??, murder, police brutality being satirised??, gore, and a small emetophobia warning}; chicago but my favourite changes depending on the day but cell block tango is a good start because it is about women murdering their husbands; and six, especially all you wanna do {cw for grooming. also haus of holbein has a historically inaccurate line about corsets}. avenue q is mildly questionable but boy if i don't listen to if you were gay every day {cw for ?? a song about racism ??? and suggestive themes but they're fucking puppets so idk man}; the cats musical but specifically mr. mistofellees, memory (reprise) and rum tum tugger {cw for vaguely suggestive cat behaviour}

opera {these are prety popular but i still like them okay}: habanera from carmen; the doll song from tales of hoffmann; fruhlingsstimmen {big q's lore stream had the instrumental version of this as the background music}, figaro's aria from the barber of seville; queen of the night from the magic flute

anime osts: the youjo senki and puella magi madoka magica osts (including the opening and ending), the asobi asobase ending song

horror(??) instrumentals: check out colin stetson! i especially love among the sef

classical: literally anything by tchaikovsky, but can can music by offenbach; in the hall of the mountain king by grieg {which, fun fact, was interpolated into ashnikko's halloweenie iv: innards. by the way if you watch innards it has very graphic body horror fx, insect mentions, and general unsettling themes}; beethoven's 9th symphony; the planets by gustav holst; and lacrimosa by mozart are also really good

rap ?? music: anything by rico nasty but i like the smack a bitch remix and ohfr and also pj by ppcocaine is really good {suggestive themes cw also i think there's a straight up moan in there at some point}; and roman holiday by nicki minaj {cw for converstion therapy and an exorcism if you choose to watch the grammys video of it}

childrens songs {mostly disney} that make me want to buy a giant oven and bake a failed elsa cake /pos: shiny; a girl worth fighting for; how bad can i be {i'm being so serious rn fuckin fight me on this /j/lh}; evil like me; the walrus and the carpenter; how can i refuse and barbie songs in general;

and lastly: threnody by missmi. yes i am fucking promoting her songs again because yall better listen to them they're legit so good. part 7 just came out yesterday and it's a banger now go watch them