#god i need to work on asks for my other blogs

[corroded-hellfire]

Hello🥹 I’m new to your blog and I’m loving the AYW series. I honestly got hooked on the Ryan’s Birthday party one shot, could I maybe request a follow-up to Steve’s and Eddie’s conversation of “you should be fucking the babysitter”? maybe Eddie accidentally bumping his head against the car he was working on and coming out and sharing a beer with Steve starting with “no man, no way”, and then sharing feelings about his relationship with Brittany and with her? Maybe confessing he has somewhat of a crush on her? And then coming home to find her after that conversation with Steve? Maybe Steve is the one who drops him home and comes inside the house for a bit? Haha sorry if it is too specific 🥹💖 I’m really loving the series

It was time for some more of this dynamic duo. This picks up right at the end of Ryan's Birthday

Words: 1.5k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“So, uh, question for you. Are you fucking the babysitter? Because between you and me? You should be.”

Eddie’s head bumps against the hood of the car he had just begun to work on again. His throat goes dry, words failing him as he stares into the face of his best friend. “What?” he finally rasps out. “W-Why would you ask that?”

Steve can’t help but roll his eyes. Munson can’t act for shit and Steve wonders how he never noticed the man’s crush on the younger woman before. 

“Oh, cut the bullshit, it’s me,” Steve says. 

The bangs and whirs of the garage around them suddenly seem too quiet to Eddie, like everyone in the building will hear anything he says out loud. But what is he going to say? He’s never uttered a word about his feelings for you out loud. The guilt already ate at him that he had these feelings at all. It was hard enough to admit how he feels about you to himself, he isn’t sure how to vocalize it, even if it is to his best friend.

“I, uh…” Eddie clears his throat and takes the grease-soaked rag off his shoulder just to have something to do with his hands. 

“Dude,” Steve says. “Do you think I’m going to tell anyone? What, I’m gonna go to Brittany? I hate talking to her about anything at all; I’d never voluntarily do it. Just spill it, I already know.”

“H-How?” It’s the only word Eddie’s able to utter.

Steve huffs a laugh, amazed by his friend’s obliviousness. 

“You weren’t subtle. I mean, maybe to someone who doesn’t know you. But I was there back in those days when you fell in love with Brittany. Shit, you look at the babysitter with way more love than you ever did her. I thought I’d see little cartoon hearts in your eyes.”

Heat blooms in Eddie’s face, both in embarrassment and nervousness. His eyes shift from left to right, his mind running all over the map. If Steve noticed, who else did? Wayne did give him a look at the end of Ryan’s party the other day. Of course the old man knows, he knows Eddie better than anyone. 

Wait, if Steve clocked this, did Nancy? Oh God, she must think he’s the worst. Having these thoughts and feelings about a woman who isn’t his wife. A woman who is so much younger than him. Did Max notice? Did Lucas? Did you?

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, chill the hell out,” Steve says, waving a hand in front of his friend. “Stop that brain from going into panic mode.” “Do you think anyone else–”

“No,” Steve says before Eddie can finish his question. “I started to look out for it once I noticed. Then it was painfully obvious. You look like a God damn puppy when she smiles at you.”

An involuntary goofy smile grows on Eddie’s face, and it’s all the confirmation Steve needs—though he really didn’t need any at all. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re really gone for her.”

Eddie looks around to make sure there’s no one close enough to hear his words. The last thing he needs is someone else learning about his shameful secret. “I really fucking am,” Eddie says. “Shit, I feel like I’m going crazy.”

Steve huffs a small laugh and shakes his head. 

“She’s a good kid. Oop, sorry. I’ll choose my words more carefully.”

Steve winces when Eddie glares at him.

“She’s not a kid,” Eddie states.

“How old is she?”

“Twenty.”

Steve considers for a moment, and Eddie takes in every little minute detail of the expressions on his face. 

“Holy shit, calm down, will you? I’m not judging you. Or her. I mean, Jesus, do you remember what I was like in high school?”

“Unfortunately.”

“I have no room to judge anyone. And besides, it’s not even that big of an age gap.”

“Twelve years,” Eddie says with a shrug. “And it’s not like she’s a teenager.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why, but something about that would make it seem weird. Never mind the difference is only a few months.”

“You’re not helping,” Eddie grits out.

Steve waves his hand in the air in a dismissive manner.

“I already said I’m not judging, damn. She seems pretty mature for her age, too.”

“She is.”

The smile on Eddie’s face warms Steve’s heart—not that he’d ever tell him that. But he’s watched his best friend deal with a shitty marriage for almost a decade now. The light in his eyes went out around the time Ryan was born, and Steve hasn’t seen it since. So Steve doesn’t care if this woman was eighteen or eighty, she made Eddie happy, and that’s something Steve worried he’d never see again.

“But you’re not fucking?” Steve asks just to clarify.

“No,” Eddie says, both of them picking up on the disappointment in his tone.

“Would you leave Brittany for her?”

And there it is. The question Eddie’s pondered on those nights when sleep just won’t find him and he’s staring at the ceiling fan spinning round. It’s all so much more complicated than just that simple question. But if Eddie can’t even come up with an answer to this, how would he be able to figure any of the other shit out? Thoughts of his sons and everything that would put them through go through his head, and he can’t bring himself to say he’d willingly inflict that kind of pain on them. 

“I don’t know.”

Eddie’s voice is quiet, uncertain.

“Would you cheat on Brittany with her?”

This is another question that’s swirled around in Eddie’s head. One that’s much easier to answer, in his opinion.

“After she’s been cheating on me for more than half of our relationship? Hell yes.”

“You’d feel guilty, though.”

It’s not a question; Steve knows him.

Eddie sighs and throws the rag over his shoulder again. He kicks his scuffed boots against the floor of the garage and rests his hands on the open hood of the car.

“I think I’d get over it.”

“Oh, I know you would,” Steve says with a knowing smirk. “The minute you find out that she has feelings for you, too? Shit, you’re going to forget you even have a wife. And that’s not necessarily bad with you, honestly. Because in a lot of ways, you don’t have a wife. She’s not been a real partner for how long?”

Eddie scoffs. “Ever?”

Steve snorts a laugh in agreement. 

“Man, I’m not telling you what to do…”

“But you are,” Eddie says with a smirk.

“Maybe,” Steve says with a shrug. “But go for it with the babysitter, yeah?”

Eddie sighs and shakes his head as he looks down into the engine bay of the car he’s supposed to be working on.

“You say that like she’ll want me.”

“Feel it out,” Steve suggests. “That’s what flirting is for, no? Not like you’re not already doing that.”

“What?” Eddie looks up at his friend in confusion.

Steve can’t help but let out a breathy chuckle and roll his eyes at how utterly oblivious his friend is.

“You’re shitting me, right? When you threw her in the pool?” Steve raises his eyebrows. When Eddie just continues to look confused, Steve rubs at his brow. “Wow. The way you held her and looked at her? You practically eye-fucked her.” 

Eddie scoffs a laugh, and his cheeks turn red.

“What? No way.”

“Whatever man,” Steve says as he shakes his head in exasperation. “Here, just take this.”

Steve takes his hand out of his pocket and holds it out towards Eddie. The mechanic frowns in confusion and he extends his hand palm up. The foil of a condom falls against his dirty and greasy hand. Eddie’s eyes widen as he quickly shoves the small square in his pocket before someone else can see it.

“You think I don’t have these at home?” Eddie hisses.

“It’s been a minute,” Steve says, and Eddie doesn’t know if he’s kidding or not. “They’re probably expired.”

Eddie groans as he drops his head back. 

“God, you might be right. They’re probably older than Luke.”

Steve would laugh if he didn’t think Eddie was serious. 

“Better toss those so you don’t accidentally use one. The last thing you need is to knock up the babysitter.”

Instead of automatically agreeing like Steve assumed he would, Eddie chokes on his own saliva and avoids Steve’s eyes. He gets weirdly quiet before he sputters something about having to get back to work. The red face is enough of a clue for Steve, though; a clue he never wanted nor asked for.

“Alright,” Steve says with a nauseated expression on his face. “That’s a conversation for another day. After, like, five drinks.”

[guest-666-detector]

as god indented

Me ballin out to fnf music at 2 in the morning on a Sunday while drawing angsty yaoi murder because the pen called to me and kept me awake for way too many hours causing me to finish the drawing by sunrise

[ramp-it-up]

Girls Who Wear Glasses

The Cleo Era | Muse Masterlist

Summary: Ari gets your glasses dirty.

Word count: 1.6 K

Pairing: Art Curator! Ari Levinson x Plus sized model!Reader

A/N: Muse Monday on a Wednesday!!! I just got some new glasses and I... Well, this is the result. This is a part of the Muse vers, but can be read as a standalone. Enjoy! (And if you do, or if you don't, let me know!)

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk; curate your own experience. Art Curator Ari. Plus sized model Reader, menace mommy Muse, Editor-in Chief Muse; brat Muse, dom Daddy Ari, glasses kink, rough oral (male receiving), cum play, the glasses get dirty, SIZE KINK, wall fucking, allusion to shower sex.

I don’t have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post!

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

------

Editing the magazine confirmed two things: you were a stickler for detail, and you needed reading glasses.

At first, your vanity flinched.

Briefly.

Then the fashion brain kicked in.

Your editor Trixie had a field day.

She put out the call, and by week’s end, your desk was flooded with designer frames. They were all fire, but the ones that stopped your heart came with a note from Virgil himself.

Limited edition Louis Vuitton. Matte black wire with tortoiseshell tips: clean, sharp, and seductive.

You brought them home the second they arrived.

After riling Cleo up to crash-out levels, tickles, giggles, and a shared mango popsicle, you handed her off to Ari and slipped into the bedroom.

Off came your pencil skirt and heels.

On went his button-down, black lace panties, and thigh-high socks.

When you stepped out, the lights were low, and the nursery glowed gold.

Ari was in the rocking chair, humming something soft, holding Cleo against his chest. One hand curved over her tiny back, and she was nearly out, her face nuzzled into his shirt, and her breaths slowing into perfect little puffs.

He didn’t look up right away.

But when he did…

His eyes dragged over you from the socks, to the lace peeking out beneath the hem of his shirt, to the hint of breast and the chain he'd given you for your anniversary. And finally, to the slim LV frames perched on your nose.

“How do they look?” you asked, voice low and playful, wondering if he’d even register what you were talking about.

Ari didn’t even pretend to play it cool.

His gaze dragged back down, then up again, lingering where the shirt barely brushed the tops of your thighs.

“Fuckin’ edible,” he murmured, eyes hungry now.

“You know exactly what you’re doing.”

You tilted your head and smirked.

“I meant the glasses, Ari.”

That pulled his gaze back to your face. Finally.

He looked at your face properly, the realization finally settling behind his eyes. And then his mouth curled into that crooked, filthy little smile that made your stomach flutter.

“Well,” he rasped, his voice deeper now, “you look like a librarian I’d corrupt in a heartbeat. Like I’d bend you over the nearest table and fog those lenses up.”

You tried to keep a straight face and failed, then grinned as Cleo stirred in his arms. He adjusted her gently, without looking away from you.

“You like them?” you asked, more sincere now, lips parted, your cheeks warm.

“I love them,” he said, eyes darkening.

“But I’d love anything on your face.”

You let out a shocked little laugh.

“Ari...God, you’re filthy.”

“And still not done,” he murmured as he rose, holding Cleo close. 

He kissed her head, whispered something soft, and gently lowered her into the crib. He gave her one last glance to make sure she was out.

Then he turned toward you.

You were waiting in the doorway, leaning against the frame, glasses low on your nose, shirt open just enough to make him come closer. When he reached you, his mouth brushed your ear.

“Those little glasses make you look like you follow instructions,” he rasped.

“But that lace?” 

His fingers tugged at the hem of the shirt. 

“That tells me you don’t plan to.”

You bit your lip.

“That’s not what I meant…”

“I know what you meant,” he said, eyes dark and glittering. 

“And I gave you the truth. You’re my favorite problem. One I don’t want solved.”

You started backing out of the nursery as Ari followed you, eyes locked on yours and predatory.

“So,” you whispered, letting the shirt fall open completely. 

“You were saying?”

He moved even closer. One hand braced beside your head, the other gripped your jaw. His mouth hovered just above yours.

“I was saying,” he murmured, “you walked out here knowing I couldn’t touch you when I wanted to. And now you want me to be calm?”

His hand slipped inside the shirt, thumb roughly rubbing your nipple, leaving it aching, then dragging down your body to the waistband of your panties.

“Ari…” you breathed.

“You wore these,” he whispered, “knowing I’d lose my mind.”

“Maybe I wanted you to.”

“You look like you want to be ruined,” he growled, “with your hair wrapped around my fist and those pretty little frames sliding down your nose while I fuck that beautiful face.”

Your knees almost buckled.

“You’d mess up my glasses?”

“They’re cute,” he rasped.

“But I told you. I’d love anything on your face.”

You sank to your knees without a word.

He watched you the whole way down, his chest rising and falling harder now.

You adjusted your glasses and looked up at him like you were his dirtiest fantasy in thigh-highs and nothing else.

He swallowed hard, his knees weak from how gorgeous you were, but he didn’t say anything. He groaned and pulled himself from his sweats, already hard, wet, and aching.

“Open,” he whispered, his thumb dragging across your bottom lip.

You did. 

Your lips parted and your tongue stuck out as he slid his broad crown as deep into your mouth as it would go. Your hands gripped his thighs as you licked and sucked his girth.

You worked him slowly and sinfully, your tongue swirling, eyes locked on his, the glasses slipping with each glide of his hips.

You looked obscene like this.

Messy and beautiful, like your mouth was built to take him. Almost.

You were Ari’s Head Master, sweet, filthy, and fucking perfect.

He couldn’t last.

Not with you on your knees, glasses fogged, mouth slick and trying to swallow everything he gave you. He came with a growl, spilling his cum thickly across your tongue, your lips, your neck.

Your glasses caught the rest, little drops that painted them prettily.

Everything you couldn’t swallow dripped from your chin. And when you looked up at him, you looked like a filthy little angel.

“I just wanted to know if they looked good,” you said innocently.

“They look better dirty,” he said, voice rough, reaching down to pull you to your feet.

“But I plan to get them much dirtier.”

He dragged you up like he couldn’t stand being apart from you another second. Your knees barely had time to lock around his waist before your back hit the hallway wall.

Your glasses were crooked now. And your lips were still swollen from sucking him off. You were adorable.

Adorable and hot.

He reached up, adjusted your glasses, and then grinned.

“They stay on.”

Ari looked feral as he tugged the shirt down your arms, baring your breasts to the cool air and his hungry stare.

The sight earned you a delicious sound from deep in his throat. Then his mouth was on you.

His tongue swept inside your mouth, tasting himself on your lips, groaning when you moaned into him like you needed more. Your fingers gripped his hair because you needed something to hold on to.

His hands gripped under your thighs, lifting you without breaking the kiss. You hips ground down to where he was already hard again, dragging delicious friction through his sweats.

“You think I’m done with you?” he whispered, lips brushing yours. “Think I’m not gonna fuck you stupid against this wall?”

“God, Ari,” you gasped. “Yes. Yes, please.��

You kissed his neck, sucking just below his ear as you whispered, “I just wanted to know...”

He lined himself up and slid inside you in one thick, devastating thrust, the angle deep and sharp, making your head thunk softly against the wall as your mouth dropped open.

He was so damn thick.

Your body protested for a split second, then gladly lubricated and accepted him. You were gasping, helpless, and clutching his shoulders as he started to move with rough, controlled thrusts that hit the deepest part of you, knocking the breath from your lungs.

Your glasses slipped; you didn’t care.

He growled against your throat.

“Look at me.”

You tried, but your eyes were half-lidded, mouth open, glasses fogging again as the heat built impossibly fast. He slipped his hand around your neck, his thumb tilting your jaw up.

“Look at me when I fuck you like this. I want to see those eyes. Want to see how wrecked you get behind those perfect little frames.”

The dirty glasses made it all hotter, messier, and more unbearable.

But Ari fucked you through it.

And you felt everything. The grind of his hips. The drag of his cock. The stretch, the ache, the overwhelming fullness. Your head fell back with a whimper as he slammed deeper.

“You look so goddamn pretty in these,” he panted.

“Riding my cock with fogged-up glasses like you were made for it. Taking it like the good little filthy girl you are.”

Your orgasm hit fast and brutal.

You clenched around him, nails digging into his back, body trembling as you reached for that peak. He fucked you deep and hard, all while kissing the air out of your lungs. He fucked you through every aftershock until you were shaking against the wall. 

Then he, hooked your knees around his arms and dug even deeper, pushing you over the edge again until your vision whited out, your cries muffled by his mouth. And when your pussy milked his cock again, glasses tilted, shirt hanging open, he lost it right behind you. 

He stayed buried inside you for a long, shuddering breath, holding you close, his forehead pressed to yours, hands gripping your ass in his huge paws.

“I ever see you in these glasses in public,” he whispered, “You better get someplace private. Fast. You understand me?”

You nodded, boneless and buzzing.

He kissed your cheek, let your legs slide down to the ground, and held you steady with one hand as he gently adjusted your frames again with the other.

“Still look perfect,” he murmured.

You smiled.

“Thanks for your review,” you whispered. 

“I have 28 other pairs at the office.”

Ari groaned.

Then he threw you over his shoulder, causing the glasses to fly off somewhere behind you as he headed toward the shower.

Because Ari absolutely wasn’t done with you.

[smahell]

A while ago I found an interesting Reddit thread about the VA’s/ Solmares decision about hiring the obey VA’s

https://www.reddit.com/r/obeyme/s/K8OuEEfdXq

Even though I knew they weren’t popular VA’s or had many/ any works I didn’t think they came from a radio host agency and I’ve been thinking about it for a while ever since

It’s not exactly directly related to the VA’s but what’s your take/ speculation on why Solmare decided to hire VA’s from radio agencies over seiyuu agencies?

I’ve read a bunch of replies on the thread but I think it’d be interesting to have more takes on it

You can answer this only if you’d like to, though! But I’m pretty interested in it and um this is the first blog I think of when I think about asking a question about obey me VA’s (; ´ v `)

thank you so much anon! i'd love to answer your question!

I've seen this thread like, a million times when doing my own personal research about the voice actors, but I don't think I've ever questioned why they got hired in the first place. Finding out that they weren't even professional voice actors in the first place was, well, pretty surprising.. As such lively and entertaining characters they are, I didn't really expect most of them to be invested so much in radio..

However, if you look deeper into some of the voice actors, you can find that some of them (some notable ones include Kada, Sumi and Onishi) have been involved in stage productions and acting! Take a video of Kada Satoshi acting on stage!

(untranslated, of course, but acting doesn't need the boundary of language anyways; look at him go!)

And check this! A video of Sumi and his own acting troupe!

I completely disagree with the statements saying that they were "cheaper to pay" because wouldn't it be just common sense that you should get paid the same as your peers because you're doing the same vocal work? (Besides, I'm not sure how wages should work in Japan but I do think that for the time, skill and patience they deliver behind the microphone that they deserve to get paid as much as even the most prolific voice actors.. they're doing the same work utilizing the same skill...). Most¹ of them have previous experience in stage plays, where many voice actors actually started before moving into individually voice acting.

Genuinely, I think the reason why they got hired is pictured clearly within one of the comments within the thread: people from radio have great voices and big personalities. Watch an episode of Otaku FM, or even Boys in the House, and watch how people from a radio agency can still engage you as much as a regular variety TV show. Listen to how smooth and intertwined segments are, watch how conversation flows so naturally and freely from their microphones and out of your speakers. These are talented people, for god's sake, and I think if you look at them as "cheaper alternatives to the real thing" you are not only discrediting the work that they've done for Obey Me! for past five years, but you view them and their jobs as so replaceable when in fact, if other people voiced these lovable characters, they may have a completely different feel to them. Listen to the TTWF event (fully voice acted, BY THE WAY) and ignore the fact that they may have come from a radio company and watch your favs come to life; it's one of the best for a reason.

Solmare's decision to hire local talents will always ring personally with me as it allowed them to further their careers and build their own personal fanbases.

¹ Yes, Miura Ayme is an outlier, but as is first professional vocal performance Ayme has done an amazing job.

thank you for wanting to hear this ramble, lol... and regarding the end of your ask and being the "first blog I think of when I think about asking a question about obey me vas", i am soooo flattered ^^, i never really thought of myself as the "voice actor guy" but this sort of made my day

^^^^^ like reallyyy made my day :D mini tangent but thank you everyone for your support, i thought i was sorta yelling into the voice with my rambles but jesus christ this blog and the people that surround it make me happy.

[cricky-butspicy]

No idea if this has been asked before, and there's too many answers to go through for me to ACTUALLY find it- question for Slasher boys!

If the reader was, let's say, hurt by their family and possibly kicked out for coming out to their family as gay, bi, trans, or anything along the LGBTQ+ spectrum before they went off to college, how would the Slasher boys react to finding out that tidbit of knowledge?

ANOTHER THING- EXPECT ART OF MY READER INSERT AT SOME POINT IN TIME WHEN I FIGURE OUT MOST OF HIS DESIGN. You have a moth lover reader insert coming at ya, prepare yourself for tiny, moth color painted desk helper robots he collects and names, and prepare yourself for cute, moth themed jackets

I think there is a way to go to the magnifying glass and search posts by words/tags they contain! It's easier than going through the whole blog. If anything, I usually will link you an answer if it's been previously answered! So, no worries! This one hasn't been answered.

They seem fine at a glance. Of course they are sorry you had to go through that and are upset by it, but really, it's hard to see how upset they are by it. Like the tight fists and the bitten tongues and the pure rage trying to seep out of their skin. They focus on you when you tell. They make it about you and how they are worried about you and your feelings. They don't let you see just how worked up they are from hearing something so terrible.

Hope that these boys don't know your home address and hope that you don't give them time to find out! Also hope that you are clear on who was bad and who was good to you in your family. Otherwise you might just find that they are taking a "trip" for a few days! Where are they going? Oh, nowhere special. Just a little place they know that they want to spend a little time at. Oh? You want to come? Sorry, but maybe next time! They just need a little them time is all!

And if you look and see in the papers that your family was massacred, don't even worry about it! You get calls about them all passing away under a mysterious attack? Murderers that look to have killed in cold blood. That's so strange! Who could have done it? And Soleil and Atlas come back and ask you how you've been while they've been away and you tell them of this "tragedy" and they wonder what on earth could have happened! They comfort you a lot; they do know even separated family can have complicated ties to a person, but they assure you everything will be alright. They were so cruel to you. They didn't deserve you. You're better off without them. They'll help you through this. Everything will be ok <3 And you know, you are perfect just the way you are, right? No one could ever tell you differently, you know? Not on their watches. Not. On. Their. Watches.

In reality, this is a hard one for both of them to hear. Soleil has some major problems accepting his own sexuality while Atlas's mom has major problems accepting his sexuality and his older-half sibling's, Deimos, sexuality and gender identity. Soleil is scared his family and the world would despise him for coming out and accepting his feelings (which I will tell you, would never happen with his family. They are a very accepting group of people and love him no matter what) while Atlas's mom wants to save her children for her god (who she assumes is their god naturally.) Atlas thinks it's horseshit, and will openly flaunt how in love he is with Soleil around her and that Deimos is fucking Monty behind her back (which she full-heartedly denies,) and that her god can screw themself. He's not worried about other people's opinions like that. Especially not his mom's.

They take care of you in the way they know how.

-

I look forward to your self insert!!! I live to see them all! 🥰💕 Poor Soleil will have a time! He's terrified of most flying insects but especially of butterflies with moths as a close second! He's a fearful guy! But I LOVE MOTHS SO I'M EXCTIED!

[crossbackpoke-check]

about to be sooo nosy so. my apologies. but. morgan frost? girlfriend? do share (or don’t! again this is so nosy i’m sorry)

for legal purposes i can neither confirm nor deny anything about morgan and his girlfriend but afaik i think he’s single right now? at one point (within the past four years 😭) he did for sure have a girlfriend and that is the extent of my wag knowledge

[fazcinatingblog]

One night was washed out with heavy rain, the next night was too dangerous, and now the hurricanes decide to just pack it all in for not much???? Big bash is dead.

[peachlit]

so many people have told me to get a restraining order on my ex….

[aeyumicore]

green-eyed and creampied

just the, now, FIVE love and deepspace men being possessive and jealous!

━ ✧.˖ PAIRING: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb (separate) x female reader (afab)

━ .ᐟ✧ GENRE: smut, porn with little to no plot

━ ✧.˖ TOTAL WORD COUNT: 6.1k

━ .ᐟ✧ GENERAL CONTENT WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, jealous behavior, possessive behavior, LOTS of filthy dirty talk, sub!reader, dom!sylus, dom!zayne, dom!xavier, dom!rafayel, don!caleb, pet names, unprotected sex, never pulling out, banter, individual content warnings below with their respective fics

━ ✧.˖ LINKS: ao3

━ .ᐟ✧ A/N: haiiii guys it’s been a while since i wrote for all the guys. now FIVEEEEE guys, call it a burger joint.. .. sorry this is a day late. i know i’ve done a jealous fic before but i wanted to kinda do it again when they’re not drunk + include caleb.

caleb will still get his jealous and drunk fic tho! i’m also working on some stuff for caleb still. if ur a caleb girly u will eat

enjoy friends <3

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

sylus 秦彻

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 1,213

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, slight voyeurism, mentions of xavier, mating press, sylus on top, furniture breaks, lots of loud sex, sylus makes reader scream, praising

In the time you’d known Sylus, you’ve had to replace your mattress frame exactly three times.

It had gotten to the point where you refused to let him stay over. Not that that mattered, as you found yourself staying at his base—his home—far more than your own. 

But for whatever reason, Sylus had asked to stay at your apartment tonight—insisting that the base was unsuitable to sleep at tonight. Some unconvincing excuse about renovations. You were suspicious, but he wore you down.

And so you found yourself being absolutely fucked into your mattress, thinking about how you’d need to buy yet another frame tomorrow, when this one inevitably shattered. 

“Syluus,” you moan breathlessly, “S-Slow—mmngh—slow down. Bed’s going to break.” You wince when you hear it creak, knocking against your bedroom wall. 

“You don’t want that, dove,” Sylus purrs, “She doesn’t want that.” He rolls his hips harder, squeezing the plush of your ass so hard that he leaves indents in the shape of his fingers. 

“You know I can’t deny her, not when she wraps around me so fucking perfectly,” he groans, hiking your thigh up against his hip so he can angle deeper. 

“You’re impossible. W-What’s gotten into you?” you force the words out, your nails clawing into the thick ropes of muscles of his shoulders, whimpering when he purposely drags his pelvis against your clit. 

Sylus kisses your forehead, the tender gesture nearly enough to make you forget that he was knee deep in your guts trying to imprint his name into you. 

“I haven’t seen you in a week. You’ve been so busy saving the world from Wanderers,” Sylus says simply, his voice calm and steady as if he wasn’t buried inside of you. 

Your lips curl, and you tease, “You missed me?”

Sylus scoffs, his rhythm slowing for a brief moment, “Yes, terribly so. I’m not afraid to admit that.”

Your heart skips a beat, looking away shyly. But Sylus brings your face back to his, his grip on your chin gentle. 

“What, getting shy on me now, little bird?” Sylus chuckles, almost condescendingly. 

”That partner of yours gets to see this beautiful face more than I do. Don’t look away,” Sylus murmurs, eyes trained on your lips. He drags his pelvis intentionally along you, the coarse hair along the base of his cock working literal magic against your sensitive bud.

It’s not enough for you to miss the whiny undertone in his words though. 

“You mean Xavier?” 

Sylus’s pace falters, but he smirks still, raising an eyebrow at you, “Tch, you should only be thinking of me right now.”

”Y-You’re the one who—o-oh god—brought him up!” you say incredulously, finding the strength to gently smack his solid marbled chest. He catches your wrist before you can make content, bringing your fingertips up to his lips.

He nips at your hand in warning, his pace growing more forceful, as if telling you to watch yourself. His increased vigor makes your bed knock more violently against the wall, your eyes widening in fear.

”Sy, the neighbors are going to hear,” you whisper, knowing he wont listen to you anyway. He’d been forever trying to convince you to move in with him anyways. 

“Hm, right. They will.”

You’re about to question his cryptic words when Sylus hoists your legs up, folding you in half. At this angle, he can quite literally hammer into you with an entirely renewed enthusiasm, reaching parts of you that he knew were your absolute weaknesses.

Your eyes roll back with a pleasured squeal, crying his name repeatedly.

Sylus smirks, praising you, your own name sounding like honey as it dripped off his tongue.

“That’s it, my love,” he coos, “Think you can get louder for me?”

You physically can’t respond, eyes squeezed shut as Sylus drives into your g-spot repeatedly and unrelentingly. He’s big enough where the head of his cock brushes against your cervix, a pleasure mixed with just the slightest pain that makes you delirious. 

“Sy-lus,” you moan brokenly, unable to stop from practically screaming, “So deep—can’t…”

”You’re doing perfect,” he praises, whispering your name in a way that makes your stomach coil tightly, on the verge of exploding. 

“Sh-shit. All you have to do is focus on screaming my name, hm? I’ll take care of the rest.”

You whine at the thought of your neighbors hearing you, knowing first hand just how thin the walls were. Biting the inside of your cheek, you do your best to keep your sounds down.

And of course Sylus notices instantly. But instead of scolding you, he only fucks you harder–physically pulling the sounds out of you. The screams of ecstasy that he wants.

Screams that would undoubtedly be heard across the walls. And the ceiling,

“Just like that,” Sylus grunts, his crimson eyes nearly glowing with approval, “Think he can hear you, sweetheart?”

Your eyes, previously screwed shut in sheer pleasure, fly open as you register the implication of his words—his actions.

Sylus seems to anticipate your reaction, simultaneously bringing his lips over your nipple and his thumb to your clit—rendering you a wordless, squealing mess. 

You can’t see the way Sylus smirks against your breast with a dangerous satisfaction, his ruby eyes glowing with adoration and possession. 

“He might get to see you every day, but I’m the only one who gets to see you like this. So drunk off my cock that you can’t even open your eyes.”

His thumb moves faster, in perfect tandem with his claiming thrusts.

”He might get to hear them, but these screams are for me, and only me. Right, my love?”

You find yourself nodding obediently, willing to do anything to get him to shut up and give you the orgasm he’s holding just out of your reach. 

”Syluuus,” you plead shamelessly, words slurring, “F-Feels s’goood. Please!” Any attempt at being quiet had long been abandoned, your brain clouded only with thoughts of Sylus and the filthy mating press he had you folded into.

Sylus was a man of fierce passion, but this was entirely different. His beautiful eyes held a swirl of dangerous emotions, nearly as intense as the vigor in which his body pounding down into yours. Your nearing climax rings in your ears, blocking out the sounds of your mattress frame snapping, his thrusts masking the feeling of the wood smashing into the ground. 

He revels in your cries of pure ecstasy, satisfaction blooming in his chest as you grow louder with every thrust towards your release. Sylus’s vermillion eyes flicker to the ceiling of the bedroom, intrusive thoughts clouding his own building pleasure.

It’d be easier if he lived next to you as opposed to the unit atop yours.

With his lips at your neck, his thick body presses down onto you, angling himself deeper. As he brings your body to unprecedented heights, he whispers into the shell of your ear, voice husky and rough. 

”Can feel how close you are” he groans, your cunt attempting to wring his cock absolutely dry, “Want him to hear you cum for me?”

You whine, weakly shaking your head ‘no.’ Sylus only grins, his hips snapping into the plush of your thighs. 

”That’s too bad, kitten. Your dear partner is going to have to hear it anyway.”

xavier 沈星回

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 1,165

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, dark!xavier, mentions of sylus, standing sex, mentions of voyeurism, mentions of cum marking, hitting it from the back, sex against the window, slight choking

“You’ve been at the N109 Zone a lot this week.”

You can hardly comprehend Xavier’s words over the sheer intensity at which he’s driving himself into you, as if trying to carve you perfectly into the shape of him.

“Wh-What?” you pant, your voice pathetically shaky as your palms desperately steady yourself against the window he has you pressed against. 

The city lights twinkle beneath you, and you find yourself grateful that you’re more than ten floors up. Because the way Xavier had your naked body pressed into the cool glass pane, his chin digging into your shoulder as his hips snapped harshly into your ass?

If you were on a lower floor, anyone outside would undoubtedly see everything. 

But you’re starting to think that’s exactly what he wants. 

“The N109 Zone. You’ve been there almost every day this last week,” Xavier says, his words simple but his tone almost threatening. Not enough to scare you, but just enough to have your toes curling in excitement. 

“And?” is all you manage, your back arching against his abdomen when he presses you deeper into the window. In response, Xavier’s thrusts slow to a near stop, his hand gently wrapping around the base of your throat. You whine in protest, desperately rolling your own hips backward against him, chasing the pleasure 

His tender fingers stroke the sides of your neck, so softly and adoringly. It gives you whiplash when you see how dark his eyes have gotten, almost sinister. 

Gripping you gently, he pulls you toward him by your neck until your head rests on his shoulder and you can really see the intensity of his shadowy azure eyes.

“Have you been working with the Onichynus leader?” he asks, his thrusts unbearably slow and shallow. 

“Sylus?”

At that, Xavier snaps, his grip tightening and his pace quickening. Except it’s much more violent this time around–enough to have your body pounding into the glass and your head swimming with delirious ecstasy. 

The sound of another man’s name on your tongue while his cock was nestled against your g-spot? That fueled Xavier with a jealousy that bordered on insanity. 

“You did that on purpose,” he grunts unhappily against your ear. It’s nearly impossible to hear him over the sound of his pelvis pounding into your ass, the wet slaps resounding throughout the room. 

“Mnngh…W-What did I do?” you ask, struggling to speak.

Xavier’s breath is heavy against your shoulder, his fingers abandoning your neck and instead cupping your jaw, turning your face towards him, so he can really look at you.

Wordlessly, he pulls your face to his, taking your lips into his–bruisingly and possessively. As his tongue claims every inch of your mouth, his cock does the same, filling you out so completely that you find it difficult to breathe. 

“Do I need to be rougher?” Xavier grunts as he reluctantly pulls away from you, his lips shiny and cheeks flushed red. You squeak when his hand roughly cups your breast, kneading just how he knew you liked, but just a tad bit harder to make you scream.

“Do I need to remind you just how much you need me?”

He punctuates his words with a pointed thrust, his cockhead stroking roughly against your most sensitive spots. 

“How much you need this?”

The intensity and passion in which Xavier takes you against the window is enough to render you a wordless, moaning mess. The glass is nice and cool against your burning skin, fogging up as Xavier presses you deeper into it.

He maneuvers your chin so that you’re facing the reflection again. He kisses your shoulder, deceptively tender, as he murmurs your name. The push and pull between tenderness and roughness confuses your brain, only making your body more receptive, more pliant, to him. 

“Oh god—Xavier!” you moan unabashedly, your forehead falling forward to lean against the window. Xavier smiles, thoroughly pleased at the sound of his name leaving your beautiful lips. 

But he was a greedy man and he wanted more. 

“Look at me,” he commands gently, saying your name with so much conviction and possession that you're wracked with a violent shiver. He tilts your chin up again, so that you come face to face with him in the reflection, the city lights outside blurring. His fingers are soft against your skin, his grip demanding.

Xavier’s glassy cerulean eyes bore into yours through the reflection, misted with a dark and raw possession that you’d been seeing more and more of lately as Xavier opened his heart to you. A look that made your instincts tingle with the need to escape. 

And yet your body only tightens with excitement, sucking Xavier further into you, wanting him harder–deeper.

But it’s still so effortlessly Xavier–pure and soft. It made your heart clench with adoration while your core tightened with desperation. 

His intense eyes burn into your naked form, fingers forcing you to watch him, as he speaks again, “The next time you go to the N109 Zone, I’m coming too.”

You’re about to protest but Xavier cuts you off, “I know you’re perfectly capable. That’s not why.” His words come out shaky and soft as you get painfully tighter, inexplicably turned on by his possessive nature. 

“If you’re going to be walking around the N109 zone with him, you’re going to do it with my cum dripping down your thighs.”

You gasp, your stomach tightening at his filthy–completely serious–words. Xavier smiles into the mirrored window that’s now fogging up with your combined torrid breaths. 

“Do you like the sound of that? It feels like you do, angel.”

Xavier glances at you again, looking absolutely ethereal with the city lights twinkling behind his reflection. But he’s starting to look just as disheveled as you, his blonde hair strewn messily, his pale cheeks dusted pink, beads of sweat trailing down his muscles. 

As you get distracted in the way his burning cock literally reshapes your gummy walls around him, Xavier grabs a gentle fistful of your hair, forcing you to level with him. 

“Tell me you want it, please.”

His commanding words are tinged with just an inkling of insecurity, his blue eyes nearly begging with yours through the damp glass. 

You push yourself off the glass, leaning back against him, knees buckling when he gets deeper. 

Xavier wraps a secure arm around your chest, holding you effortlessly in place. In this position, he buries his face into your shoulder, his eyes still peeking over, trained on you. 

Laying your head back against him, you cradle the back of his head with your hand. Maintaining eye contact, you somehow find the coherence to appease him, knowing he’d go insane without your reassurance, no matter how ridiculous what he was asking was.

“W-Wan’ it Xav,” you moan through the force of his thrusts, “Anything you give me, anything you want. 

Xavier noticeably falters, his breaths becoming alarmingly ragged, azure eyes darkening to a deep navy instead.

“Then, let’s start right now.”

zayne 黎深

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 1,120

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, marking + hickeys, improper evol use, dry humping, mentions of caleb, zayne on top, praising

Zayne wasn’t a jealous man.

At least that’s what you’d thought—what he’d made you and everyone who knew him believe. 

He was wildly successful in his career, self-assured in himself, and secure in your relationship. 

And yet, the way he was sucking bruises into every inch of your burning skin, with the clear intent to mark and claim–where everyone could see, said otherwise. 

“Zayne—!” you cry out as he bites a particularly mind-numbing hickey into your collar, his skilled tongue soothing the sensitive skin as his teeth graze against the forming bruise. 

“Hm?” is all he murmurs. But he doesn’t let you continue or clarify, because the next thing you know, he’s rolling his bare erection against your moist slit, purposely letting his own leaking tip rub against your throbbing bundle of nerves. 

With your eyes squeezed shut in burning anticipation, you can’t see him, but you can hear the faint smirk in his voice. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” his lips are suddenly at the skin under your ear, pressing soft kisses into the spot he plans to mark you next. 

“You know what,” you whine, “Not so high up.” Even you can hear how half-hearted your plea is. You loved the rare occasion Zayne made it known exactly what he did to his favorite hunter, his most crucial patient, behind closed doors. 

But you’d gotten so familiar with Zayne’s straight-edged professionalism that you were used to him leaving signs of himself on your body that only you’d be able to see. Areas that only the two of you would know he’d been. Where his lips had been. 

“And why is that?” he chuckles, letting his lips ghost along your pulse, as if warning you what was to come if you didn’t plead your case. 

You gasp when he grabs the base of his cock, purposely letting himself brush against your soaked entrance, but not letting himself enter–much to your dismay.

“H-Have to go to—ngh—go to Skyhaven tomorrow,” you whimper, “Meeting with Caleb and the F-Fleet to discuss Wanderer activity.” 

Zayne pauses at your words, his entire body tensing ever so slightly as he presses himself forcefully into you, his muscles twitching against you.  

Ah. 

He collects himself instantly, his teeth nipping at your pulse in warning. 

“Oh?” he says, as if he didn’t already know you’d be seeing Caleb tomorrow, likely having gotten your mission schedule from the Association. Doctors often had access to the files of all Hunters that were under their care.

“Even more reason to send you off with a few gifts for the Colonel.”

If his jealous possession didn’t turn you on so damn thoroughly you might’ve rolled your eyes and teased him. Tease him that he’d said the childhood rivalry between him and Caleb was one-sided. That he’d said he was above that petty jealousy. 

But with Zayne’s cock wedged so tortuously between your legs, a burning path of love bites trailing from your neck to your breasts, his warm breath at your ear–you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but moan for more. 

“You sound beautiful,” Zayne whispers thickly into your ear, before his lips descend and latch onto the soft skin above your nipple, “So perfect like this. Spread out for me, begging for more.”

He pulls away, a string of saliva connecting from his lips to your heaving chest, his mouth pulling into a faint smirk at the pretty little marks he’s left all over your soft skin. The sense of satisfaction he feels from watching your quivering form, chanting his name like a prayer. The satisfaction he got from knowing that he’d be the only one to see you like this, feel you like this. Now and forever. 

The satisfaction from knowing that anyone who saw you would see exactly how thoroughly you belonged to him.

He shifts to give himself better access to you. To the spot between your legs that was reserved only for him.

Zayne positions himself, his tip at your aching entrance, his body coming down to hover over you, his face inches from yours. His eyes bore into yours, the gold flecks shining as he takes in your flushed features. His magnificent woman.

His fingers trace your jaw, carving an icy path down every beautiful mark, every searing claim. You yelp at the feeling of his Evol laced fingertips, body arching at the hypersensitivity of his frosty digits. But Zayne only presses you back down into the mattress.

“Tell me, love,” he whispers, his voice husky and gravelly with need, “Who’s the only one who gets to see you like this?”

Feeling rebellious, you refuse, “I’m not feeding into this ridiculous del–” You’re cut off by your own scream as Zayne’s fingertips close over your nipple, using his Evol to make his skin colder than it normally was. He repeats his demand, saying your name so tenderly–a stark contrast to his unforgiving touch that your body yearned for.

“Tell me.”

“Y-You!” you squeal as Zayne rolls your sensitive tip in his skillful torturous fingers. 

“Who’s the only one who gets to hear you make these perfect little noises?” This time he punctuates his question by bringing his frozen fingers to your clit, pressing down, simultaneously holding your body down as it arches.

“Anngh–you. Only you! P-Please–!” you beg, not able to take the hypersensitivity, but not wanting him to pull away. 

“So good for me,” Zayne murmurs, pressing his cock into you, just barely stretching you out, “And only me, right beautiful?”

Your eyes widen at the feeling of just his thick tip inside you. Your body arches, trying to receive more of him. He gently pushes you back down, his palm flat against your stomach. 

You whine at his blatant denial, using your legs to try to trap his body against yours, pulling him closer so he had no choice but to push deeper.

“Oh g-god, yes!”

But Zayne remains steadfast, his strong muscled body unmoving. Instead, he gently grips your chin, bringing your eyes up to his.

“Say my name.”

Zayne thrusts shallowly, forcefully pulling the words from your lips and making you spill exactly what he wanted to hear.

“Nnngh–only yours, Zayne!” His name rolls off your tongue like music, earning you a low growl of approval from the man just barely inside you. 

As if to reward you, he pushes himself fully inside of you, all the way to the hilt. He falls onto his elbows, rolling his hips with a passionate intensity that has you calling his name–over and over. With a torrid groan of your name, he desperately presses another blossoming bruise into your pulse. Right where everyone could see it.

“That’s right sweetheart. And everyone will know it.”

rafayel 祁煜

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 1,190

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, marking, spanking, kinda mentions of voyerism, raf on top but from the back, messy make out

You were a relatively flexible person.

By no means did you have the range of a gymnast or a professional dancer, but all things considered, you were decently limber for the average woman—dabbling in the occasional yoga and pilates. 

But that did little to prepare you for the arch Rafayel was forcing you into, his hand gently gripping your hair for leverage, the other pushing you down lower. 

He’d purposely put his massive ornate gold-rimmed mirror in front of his bed, forcing you to watch as he mounted you savagely from behind, his hips desperate to paint pretty flowering bruises into the plush of your ass.

Rafayel normally punished you with the silent treatment, or overt sass. But now?

He was punishing you with his insatiable body.

“You better not do that again,” the purple-haired artist groans from behind you, his voice much more demanding than you normally ever heard from him. His hips snap into you, your combined arousal dripping down the back of your thighs.

You can only moan back, every nerve end in your body burning with the pleasure delivered from Rafayel’s thick length inside of you, rendering you unable to think or speak clearly. 

Unsatisfied with your lack of response, Rafayel tugs gently at your hair, forcing you to level with him in the reflection in the mirror. He looks devastatingly handsome, his purple wavy hair tousled, like he’d run his hair through it several times. His soft, blemish free, skin a beautiful shade of coral. The sapphire in his eyes eclipses the soft pinkish corals, as he gives into primitive instinct, making them nearly entirely blue.

“Tell me you won’t do that again.”

You whine, even in your cock-drunk state, you know exactly what he wants you to say. 

Rafayel was just wrapping up a guest lecture circuit for the local universities, particularly their fine arts departments. He’d asked you to be his “assistant” to the last one, claiming he needed his precious bodyguard there if any of the students tried to kidnap him for ransom. 

During a portrait exploration exercise, a student had asked you to model for his sketch. It seemed innocent enough, and you didn’t want to make Rafayel look bad by denying a student’s genuine request–being his guest on campus.

And apparently Rafayel did not like that.

“Raf–!” you rasp, doing your best to speak through the torrent of passionate thrusts, your broken voice barely audible over the lewd sounds of his skin slapping against yours. 

“S-Slow down,” you whimper, unable to speak coherently, answer his demand, if he was fucking you this passionately. 

“That’s not what I asked for, pretty girl,” Rafayel murmurs, his own voice nearly broken over how perfect your gummy walls convulse around him. 

You squeal when he presses his palm harder down on the small over your back, making your ass arch even higher for him.

“You’re in no position to be making demands,” he pants, the hand in your hair abandoning your head to grab a fistful of your soft ass. He kneads it tenderly, eliciting a cry of pleasure from you, before releasing it.

Thwack!

Your eyes widen, a squeal erupting from your lips as Rafayel’s hand comes down to meet your rear in a harsh spank. 

“Come on, baby,” he groans your name, halfway between a growl and a whine. 

“W-Was jus’ a portrait sketch,” you reason, catching his heated gaze in the mirror. His perfectly arched eyebrow raises at you.

“You think I care?” Rafayel mutters, smacking your ass again, only this time it’s softer. Not punishing, but rather claiming. With the sole intent to mark you up. His.

“Unngh–you asked me t’come!” you slur, your entire body jolting with the force of his body pounding against yours.

“Yeah, to be my pretty little TA,” Rafayel protests, “Not someone else’s fucking inspiration!”

He slumps over you, forcing you deeper, his chest lightly pressed against your upper back, his lips pressed into your shoulder, nipping gently.

“Ngh–knew I should’ve kept you under my podium,” he grumbles, only half joking. 

You give him a pointed look in the mirror, your face covered in sweaty strands of hair. Rafayel props himself above you with one arm, the other tenderly sweeping your hair out of your face. So he can see you properly. 

You were his. Only his.  

Even if it was just some unsuspecting university student. 

Rafayel grabs your chin, turning your face so he can kiss you. You crane your neck towards him, letting him capture your lips aggressively, possessively. 

It’s anything but a gentle tender kiss, but rather a dark claiming one. One where his tongue explores every inch of you, his teeth nipping your lips, swallowing your exquisite cries of pleasure. 

When he pulls away, a string of saliva connects you to him. His fingers still gripping your chin, he turns you back to the mirror. 

“You’re my muse. No one else gets to use you, innocent sketch or not.”

You nod submissively, inexplicably turned on by his jealous and possessive demeanor. Rafayel smiles at you through the reflection, a heated promise in his bi-colored eyes.

“Fuck—just like that, need to memorize every inch of you like this,” he moans, stroking your hair unbearably gently. As if he wasn’t rutting into you so viciously that his entire bed shook, the expensive wood legs of the frame scraping against the silk rug. 

“You—mmmf—always say that,” you tease him, “Surprised you haven’t—ngh—haven’t created an entire map yet.”

Rafayel gives you an unamused look, his bottom lip jutting out in that adorable Rafayel grimace.

”A map? No,” he lowers himself back to your shoulder, letting his warm breath tickle your neck. He leans his head against yours, his hips rolling like the tides of the ocean. Except maybe during a tsunami. 

He laughs when you nearly collapse, his angry tip hitting your g-spot. He catches you, hooking his arm under your stomach before you can lose that beautiful arch. 

“Raf—!” you moan, “Can’t…Can’t take much more.”

“Easy, cutie,” he kisses your ear, slowing his movements much to your dismay. It stifles your impending orgasm, making you whine in frustration. 

“D-Don’t tease Rafayel!”

He lets out a breathy laugh, giving you a single languid thrust before slowing again. 

“Well I can’t have you tapping out juuuust yet,” he smiles into your neck, taking a deep inhale of your pheromones, the left side of his chest burns as your scent clouds his brain. 

“I need more time, if I’m going to commit this image to memory,” he whispers predatorily into your ear, directing your face back to the massive mirror. The image reflected is so unbearably lewd.

Rafayel’s muscles ripple as he quite literally mounts you. You look so filthily undone beneath him, your skin flushed and shining with sweat, lips swollen and slick.

”Going to make a mural of you, exactly like this,” Rafayel grins wickedly, delighted by the way your eyes widen with horror, before rolling back into themselves. “Cheeks flushed, perfect ass up, hair disheveled…All for me.”

He gives you another gentle spank, your poor cheek reddened and marked.

“Think that will inspire him?”

caleb 夏以昼

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 1,417

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, slight improper evol use, mentions of zayne, against the wall sex, kinda leash use, caleb puts his dogtag in reader’s mouth, hickeys, brat taming

Against the setting sun, Caleb’s silver dog tag casts dancing flashes of light on the wall of his bedroom. Sunsets in Skyhaven have always been so much more magnificent. The floor to ceiling windows allow the waning sun to paint the entire room in a brilliant orange glow, the light bouncing off the necklace he never took off. 

The necklace that was now swinging wildly against your own naked chest with the force of Caleb’s desperate, forceful movements. 

”C-Caleb, o-oh god,” you cry, nails digging painfully into him, an angry trail of red welts already littering his muscled back. He hisses at the sting, but it only makes him more feral, his pelvis slamming so violently into yours that the wall behind you nearly tremors with his raw strength.

“Yeah? Finally being sensible, princess? Ready to be a good girl for me?” Caleb grins, his words lacking any real bite, balancing you in one hand as he moves your hair to one shoulder.

You whine in indignation, knowing exactly what brought about his sudden attitude. 

A certain raven haired surgeon you both knew all too well. 

It would be adorable if it wasn’t making him so damn animalistic right now. But who were you kidding—you loved it. Loved him like this. 

“Y-You were in important Fleet briefings all day,” you pant through the moans, his cock spearing up into you as he holds you firmly to the wall. 

He presses ravenous kisses to your jaw, his fist balling as it propped himself against the wall. “And? All you have to do is ask and I’ll have someone stand in for me.”

“You’re the Colonel–mmngh–you can’t just drop your duties every time I n-need someone to pick me up!”

“Fuck– so damn tight,” Caleb groans, leaning his forehead against yours as he ruts into you savagely, “and who says I can’t?”

There’s a childish and challenging lilt to his gravelly voice, squeezing your ass with his right hand, leaving flourishing bruises behind. If that arm couldn’t feel you, it’d sure as hell leave reminders he was there. 

Your eyes roll back, from the pleasure or Caleb’s ridiculousness, you’re unsure.

“It was right next to the hospital,” you whine, squealing when Caleb takes your nipple into his mouth, rolling it gently between his teeth, “Mmngh–Zayne was a-already there!”

Caleb’s rhythm doesn’t falter for a second at the sound of that name rolling off your tongue. In fact, it seems to only make him more determined. More feral.

He holds your jaw in his fingers, his violet eyes glowing with a cautionary sparkle. The cool metal of his dog tag rattles against your bodies, pressed together and slick with sweat.

“I would’ve been there too. If you called me,” he murmurs petulantly, his face transforming into that classic wet-puppy face that Caleb so expertly used to get his way with you. 

But the contrast of his adorable face to his downright filthy thrusts helps you stay clear-minded against his charms. Well, as clear-minded as you could be when he was being like this.

“Caleb, you’re being unrea—oh god!” you whimper, his fingers meanly pinching your clit, purposely trying to make you lose your train of thought, “U-Unreasonable!”

He pulls your chin to him, enveloping you in a feverish kiss, no doubt trying to get you to give in to his jealous little whims. When he pulls away, he tilts your chin up to look into the burning galaxy in his irises. 

“You’re my girl. Call me next time, okay baby?” His tone, commanding–nearly a growl, betrays his deceptively sweet words. 

You continue trying to reason with him, clawing desperately at the thick ropes of muscles in his back, “You w-were in Skyhaven! Would’ve been—angghh—been waiting for hours!”

Caleb presses warning kisses into your neck, his teeth nipping hard enough to leave marks. He takes one of your hands into his, intertwining your fingers slowly. 

”Personal aircraft. Did you forget? Even after you rode me that one t–”

You whine in embarrassment, cutting him off with a poignant roll of your hips, “Ngh–Caleb! Y-You can't possibly fly a whole ass plane to Linkon every time Zayne tries to–” 

Caleb interrupts your words with a growl, hips slowing down tortuously. His fingers wrap gently around your neck, his head tilted as he stares down at you. 

“Really? You’re going to keep saying his name when you’re crying out for me? For this?”

To punctuate his lightly veiled threat, he ruts particularly viciously, your entire body sliding up the wall. He presses against you so tightly that you shudder, the cool metal of his necklace like ice against your singed skin. His hand brushes along your naval, where he can feel his cock hammering in and out. He presses down, eliciting a beautiful scream from you.

“God, you’re such a brat today,” he growls heatedly in your ear, his hand abandoning your stomach, threading with your fingers again. He raises your joined palms above your head, pushing them into the wall, giving him a bit more leverage as he tries to use his cock to make you forget anyone’s name but his.

Particularly that of your beloved doctor. 

“I’m the brat?!” you say incredulously. He cuts you off, hammering until you can nearly feel him in your throat, but you don’t stop, “Y-You’re the brat! Still letting Zayne get under y–mmmf!”

Irritated at your unending talk of Zayne, his dog tag still swinging annoyingly with the force of his thrusts, Caleb cuts you off again. Using one hand to balance you, his free fingers place the tag of his bouncing silver necklace in between your lips. The cool metal brushes against your tongue and you whine as he squeezes your jaw, making it difficult to release it. 

“Only name I want to hear from you is mine,” he murmurs, voice deceptively soft. He smirks when your eyes roll back, his tag still between your pouty lips. Something about the sight of you, his claim in your mouth, your eyes nearly white with the sheer force of pleasure only he can give you? It sends him dangerously close to losing all control.

Caleb’s fist slams into the wall next to your head, gasping out a string of expletives, his hips stuttering with the overwhelming emotions he feels when he looks at you. Taking a deep breath, he tries to collect himself, not quite ready to give you your release. His fist softens, stroking the chain of the necklace as it dangles from your mouth toward his chest. 

“You gonna be good?” he coos your name, his smooth, heated voice doing little to betray how dangerously close he is to coming undone into your impossibly tight heat.

You give him a rebellious glare, your eyes saying no. You were this close to being cock drunk and giving in to enabling his possessive behavior, but you did your damned best to hold onto your pride.

Caleb chuckles darkly, freeing your chin which lets you drop the metal tag from between your teeth. He catches it in his fingertips, stroking the damp steel, his wordlessness feeling almost sinister.

You yelp when your neck is yanked towards him, close enough that you can feel his threatening breath against your lips, a dangerous glint in his eyebrow-shadowed eyes.

At first you think it’s his Evol, both his hands still occupied–one gripping the dog tag and the other gripping your ass. But at the slight sting at your nape, you realize you’d completely missed him slipping the gifted necklace over your neck. That he probably with his Evol.

And now he was using it like a leash, pulling you toward him like he owned you. 

You gasp when he tilts his head, still gripping the necklace gently, your back slamming into the wall as he fucked into you with renewed vigor. He inhales your choked breath as his own, wanting to consume you entirely. 

With his Evol, he holds you flush against the wall, using one hand to guide you with the pull of the silver jewelry, the other cupping your cheek, thumb stroking your jaw. 

“I hope you don’t have any more plans this weekend. Especially not with Zayne.”

His hand slides from your jaw to your neck again, squeezing in a way that has not only your throat constricting but also your cunt, in pure thrill.

“We’re going to be here until the only name you remember is mine. Now be a good girl and be quiet, yeah?”

© aeyumicore 2025.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.

[gimmick-blog-bracket]

Now for the final round!

@hellsitegenetics

I love them

I didn't know I needed to know that the weed-smoking girlfriends post was genetically a wolf, but I did, and I do. Also puts great stuff on my dash.

it’s so fun to be scrolling unhinged posts and then boom. an organism!

so many moths‼ also, unexpected comedy with some of the matches

perfect blend of silly and informative, and makes for an excellent punchline at the end of a long post. puts creatures on my dash. literally what more could you ask for

It's a really unique blog concept and a lot of times the results are pretty funny. It's great when the sequence matches the post content too!

Creatures 👍

Finds beautiful creatures out of the mess of the hellsite

Offers finality AND gives us a creechur.

I love them. English speakers talk like moths

If this blog wins, they could run the text of the winning announcement, and determine the post's genus and species!

They're also very good about tagging the type of creature depicted in the results, so as long as you mute tags of creatures you don't want to see, it's a very fun time seeing iconic legacy posts (and new submissions) being reduced down to a string of letters and assigned a random species of fish or moth or something!

uhh it’s cool

BLAST

There are so many weird bugs in the world

Yippee!!

If, as Haldane said, God has an inordinate fondness for beetles, then surely this blog proves that Tumblr has an inordinate fondness for moths.

Top tier blog as a geneticist, I love seeing obscure organisms and MOTH

Admin got rate limited after trying to blast the bee movie

the knowledge of biology to pull this off (i have taken one biology class in my life) and also the work to find all the strings honestly deserves quite a bit of praise

This gimmick blog has it all: science, pictures of animals, interaction with the text of other peoples' posts, interesting information, and a unique and fun premise. As a biologist, I'm rooting for hellsitegenetics to reach the end and take the tournament, because it is truly a standout among gimmick blogs.

If they win, perhaps this blog too shall become a cool organism :3

@hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

What's more happy holiday cheer than cheering on the destruction of a giant straw goat?

The birds may have won 2023, but I believe in humanity's capability for arson for 2024 <3

a vote for me is a vote for arson! This message was approved by hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

gavle is SUCH a public service and holiday feature

what's more tumblr than comical destruction and holidays?

sometimes you just gotta vote with your matchsticks

Bringing a cultural staple to tumblr since 2021

Arson is so much more fun

It would be really funny and ironic if it survives the tournament

you have no idea how much joy watching the chronicling of the gavlebocken brings me every year

hasgavlebockenburneddownyet provides an essential public service

always love seeing a bit of Swedish history on my dash 'Swedish bamboo season'

the goat account is peak gimmick blog

If I don't get to beat the goat then nobody does. -pointless-achievements

Never ask Tumblr to choose between lies and arson! The winner threatens by nature to rip apart the very fabric of our DNA!

goat statues made out of straw are exciting and interesting

I wanna see things burn

the goat is an essential part of tumblr culture and the goat blog is a sacred keeper of the tumblr high holidays

watching to see if the big straw goat has burned down each year is a true delight, something I never knew existed until tumblr and the blog dedicated to it

the incredibly focused nature of @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is what makes their gimmick superior.

Please guys bite gavlebocken

Look, I'm Danish. I was put on this earth to annoy the Swedes and vice versa, but even I voted for @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

gavlebocken is also such a fun name and this blog informed be about its existence, so for that I am grateful

hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is providing a vital service! Every year, people rely on their updates regarding the fate of our most beloved Yule Goat! How could they NOT deserve the win!?

sacred anti-corporate arson

a vote for gävlebocken is a vote for anarchy!

pls vote for them they're the funniest gimmick keeping track on the funniest phenomena in recent human history, like when i look at their acc i think to myself this is what tumblr was created for

the goat is the GOAT

HASGAVLEBOCKENBURNEDDOWNYET DESERVES TO WIN, I have them on post alert for a REASON

the holiday season wouldn't be the same without them

they do important reporting. Do you look at the news and be like 'the reporters aren't doing work they're just telling you whats happening.' Have some respect for the goat news

let the weird burnt sacrificial ritual of it all appeal to you

nothing makes my December more interesting, arson should win

doesn't barge in on other peoples posts which is always a good thing in my books. not a fan when obnoxious gimmick blogs turn a decent post into a garbled mess

[omgthatdress]

Sooooo ummmmmmm this is something that's probably going to piss a lot of people off, but I feel like I really need to say it.

If you get a message from an account claiming to be a Palestinian fundraiser, it is a bot. It is a scam. You need to report & delete the message and encourage others to do the same.

I know because I get messages on this account DAILY. I have a very high follower count and I'm pretty active and I interact with my followers a lot, and apparently that all adds up to one big bot magnet.

Bots following and messaging this account was a MASSIVE problem before Tumblr fixed its new account policies. I used to spend literally hours blocking and reporting the hundreds of bots that I would get following me each day.

I learned a lot about bots and how to identify them. The easiest way is with no avatar, "untitled" in the blog description (BTW if your avatar is still set to default PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD change it because you run a substantial risk of being accidentally blocked & reported as a bot).

One of the dead give aways of a bot was what I call "word salad" names. Three seemingly random words strung together making no sense, always adjective, adjective or noun, noun. If you reported a lot of these bots, you'd notice the same words kept showing up.

Nowadays, I am bombarded with fundraiser requests and sometimes, they don't even bother to hide the fact that they're a bot. The avatar is default, the blog title is "untitled," and the blog name is a classic randomly-generated word salad.

However MOST of the requests I get come from at least semi-legit looking accounts. There are pictures, a name, a story. Never mind that I've gotten that message three times from different accounts.

Sometimes, they claim to be vetted, but the whole vetting system essentially adds up to "trust me bro." There is no way of guaranteeing that this account isn't just lying about being vetted, claiming to be vetted by a false person, or are using the identity of a real Palestinian to scam people.

Previously, I've seen a lot of people getting attacked for raising questions about these fundraisers and getting attacked for being racist or for harming Palestinian families in danger, like Tumblr isn't a website famous for its scams and the words "The Arkh Project" "All or Nothing" or "Miss Officer and Mr. Truffles" mean nothing to you.

I personally have been scammed by people claiming to be charities on Tumblr before, specifically, The Leelah Project which used the name of a trans teenager who died by suicide to swindle people out of their money.

Luckily, there are actual, respected charities out there you can give money to if you want to help the cause:

Palestinian Children's Relief Fund

Palestine Red Crescent Society

United Nations Relief Works Agency

Islamic Relief

World Central Kitchen

Médecins Sans Frontièrs

One of the hardest things to accept about the situation in Palestine is that realistically, there is very little that your average outsider can do to change it. However, these large, well-respected and trustworthy charities are out there doing the hard work to keep people alive, and should be where the donation money is going

These scam bots feed on people's naïvety and need to believe that they are making a difference, and even worse, feed on the fear that by ignoring them, it somehow makes you a racist doing direct harm to a refugee family, when in fact they are using the suffering of Palestinians to take away money from those in need.

As far as fundraisers that don't send out random asks for donations, I honestly don't know. You'll have to do the work yourself and approach with much caution.

Be careful out there.

[jaylaxies]

TEASER: YOURS (MAYBE?)

PAIRING: jake x fem!reader x jay

GENRE: enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, smut, fluff, humour, angst.

TEASER WC: 1988 words! (est. 33k words)

SYNOPSIs: Your best friend’s wedding was supposed to be the well-earned vacation you’d been dreaming of, the perfect escape and much needed breather. Instead, you’re stuck sharing a room with your ex-rival, and the previously quiet, enigmatic boy from university, both seemingly perfectly poised to turn this trip into a carefully orchestrated plan to woo you.  Alternatively: Challengers, but your playground isn’t a tennis court, it is the bedroom which you share with Jay and Jake.

WARNING: the fic will contain 18+ content, minors dni.

A/N: hihi loves <3 sorry for the delay but the fic got way longer than intended! so i’ll just leave a little teaser as something to compensate while i finish editing. <3

taglist is open! comment/send an ask to be added <3 (make sure to have your age visible on your blog!)

Chapter 1: The boy I forgot Vs. The boy I can’t. 

Being late to your best friend’s wedding trip was the lowest you could have sunk down, and you did. 

Well, granted, it was courtesy of your work which never gave you holidays, but alas, you managed to get a week off, now rushing out of the airport with your two heavy luggage bags, not to mention the backpack and purse you managed to carry along, trying to spot the bride, Karina, who still proceeded to pick you up in the midst of all the wedding preparation chaos. 

She launches herself at you even before you had the time to react, engulfing you in a hug so tight as if you hadn’t met her over dinner just the week prior. 

“You’re so fucking late,” she screamed, shaking you as you finally elicited a laugh, waving back at her fiancé, Jeno, who was smiling like a puppy seeing his fiancée so joyous. 

“Blame my boss, he fucking made me work overtime to the point I had to cancel my flight and take the ticket for the next one,” you groaned, letting the couple help you with your luggage and share everything you’ve missed so far—which somehow didn’t include the room assortment, yet. 

Karina chats your ear off the entire ride to the Airbnb villa booked especially for the friends, other families and guests having different villas all to themselves, her voice practically vibrating with sheer excitement, but it’s not until the car takes a sharp turn into a winding hill that your stomach twists with something else—anticipation.

“You’ll love the place,” she says, “and the people—well, mostly.”

You shoot her a look. “Mostly? You let me take care of everything, from helping with your wedding dress to finalizing the flowers and arrangements, but didn’t let me take a single look at the guest list, should I be worried?” 

“Let’s just say, there are a few strong personalities. You’ll see.”

You narrow your eyes but let it slide, muttering, “yeah I’m worried.” She’s already looking smug, and you had a bad feeling about it now that your car neared the villa for the next few days, and you did have a slight hint about what was to come, to which you simply prayed for it to be wrong. 

It was something straight out of a pinterest board, cream coloured walls, string lights adorning it, the faint scent of gardenia drifting through the slight breeze, cooling down the otherwise warm atmosphere. You’re still staring at the view as you get another hug attack from Winter, who was more than excited to see you after the few weeks you spent away, because you still met up after subsequently completing the university. 

A small genuine smile graced your face as you started catching up, “god—wait. I need Karina to finalize the aisle placements, I’m sorry, Y/N, we’ll be back in a second.” She says, rushing away, seeming more bothered than the bride to be herself, who was enjoying every second of it. 

You weren’t sure what you expected when you stepped into the villa, but it definitely wasn’t this.

The place looked like something out of a design magazine—open plan with warm wooden floors, arched doorways, and morning light spilling across the ceilings. Plants dangled beautifully from the pots, and a soft ocean breeze danced through linen curtains like the house was exhaling out elegance.

It was like a perfect Pinterest wedding destination, almost like a spot where people would fall in love seamlessly. 

Unfortunately, you were not here for love.

You were here for Karina’s wedding, and most importantly, you were especially not here to run into—

“Well, if it isn’t the prodigy herself.”

That voice—you froze mid-step, every muscle in your spine stiffening like instinct. No. Absolutely not, that could not be him, could he? 

You turned slowly, already preparing your sigh, and found yourself face to face with none other than Park Jongseong. 

Great.

Same perfect posture, same cocky half-smile. Tall, annoyingly handsome, and dressed like the poster boy for a casual rich man at a coastal wedding—open shirt, silver chain, jaw sharp enough to cut glass, eyes dark enough to drown someone, and his heart shaped birthmark on the neck still standing out. 

Jay.

Your academic nemesis, your eternal debate partner. The guy who turned every university presentation into a showdown and somehow made you want to win even harder, the guy you swore you hated all three years of your undergrad uni. 

You hadn’t seen him since graduation. You’d hoped that would be the end of it, but of fucking course, fate hated you.

“Well, I see you’re still as stiff as ever,” you said, looking bored, hoisting your backpack bag higher on your shoulder, “still studying like a madman, huh?”

Jay gave a lazy smile, eyes flicking over you with the practiced indifference of someone used to winning, his eyes still wandering around your figure before he clicked his tongue, “you’re late.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, already irritated, “I’m fashionably late, there’s a difference, you wouldn’t understand, of fucking course.” You said, pointing at your amazing airport fit. 

“I’m sure there’s a spreadsheet in your bag that proves that, you always came over prepared anyway.”

You opened your mouth to deliver a killer comeback—and were immediately interrupted by another voice.

“Woah—woah, I’ve only been here ten minutes and there’s already fights unleashing, huh?”

You turned again, this time finding yourself staring into a face you hadn’t expected at all.

Jake.

Sim Jaeyun, you recognized him immediately—your old batchmate, the quiet one from your year, you remembered him as soft spoken, always with a shy smile, never really one to speak unless called on, only if you omit out recalling that one night when he did talk to you, just one night. 

Except now—now he stood beside Jay, lean and sun-kissed, wearing a faded tee that clung just right and black sweatpants that made him look nothing like the awkward boy you remembered. There was a warmth in his eyes, sure—but also something new, a flicker of playfulness, of newfound confidence.

His hair fluffier than ever, lips still pouty but in a teasing manner, and his aura now strong and warm, as if he had a halo around his head. 

“Jake?” you said, unsure, but you did remember him, not just the newly transformed version of him.

His grin was unnaturally attractive as he replied, “you remember.”

Barely, you thought, but said instead, “wow, you were—uh quiet.”

Jake chuckled, and the sound was different than you remembered too, richer, more teasing, accent evident in his voice, “yeah. Not so much anymore, I guess.”

Jay scoffed from beside him, “he still is when he loses. Don’t let him fool you.”

Jake rolled his eyes, “ignore him. He gets cranky when he’s not the smartest in the room, Mr. Know it all.”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Is that why he always sulked during academic week?”

Jay turned to you with a sarcastic smile. “You were the one who stole my thesis idea in senior year.”

“I didn’t steal it, I simply executed it better.”

“Debatable.”

“Oh my god,” Jake said with a laugh, looking between the two of you, “this is amazing. It’s like watching the academic war off, but, well, this is actually interesting.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, but you quickly caught yourself. No, absolutely no humanizing your rival, not when he was right in front of you. 

Jay leaned against the entryway wall, clearly amused, “didn’t expect to see you here, honestly.”

“I’m Karina’s best friend,” you replied with an eye roll as if he was dumb, “of course I’m here.”

Jay’s expression didn’t shift, but something in his gaze sharpened slightly. “Right. Makes sense.”

Jake tilted his head as if he didn’t know, “you and Karina were close in uni?”

“We roomed together all four years,” you said, lips curving, “she’s like my sister.”

Jay gave a half, sarcastic smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “hm, that does explain the pity invite.”

You scoffed as you stepped closer, gaze daring, “are you always this good at projecting?”

“I’m always this good at reading people.”

“Then read this and stay away,” you said sweetly, flipping him off.

Jake blinked, then burst out laughing, leaning forward like the moment was a personal win, genuinely amused, “I’m sorry, that was iconic, never gets old.”

Jay shrugged, shaking his head at you, “she always had a flair for the dramatics, I wonder why she didn’t join the drama society.”

“You’re one to talk,” you muttered, but before Jay could respond, the front door opened again and Isa rushed in, grinning.

“There you are!” She said, grabbing your arm. “Come on, Karina’s doing the room assignments!”

You let yourself be dragged back inside, throwing one last glance at the boys—Jay smirking like he’d already won something, and Jake watching you with a curiosity that sent a shiver up your spine.

Room assignments, right. You could handle that, or so you thought. 

The rest of the house was gathered in the living room, lounging on floor cushions and sipping iced drinks and vodka? Well, afternoon drinking is fun, meanwhile, Karina stood in the center, a clipboard in hand and a wicked glint in her eye, that was reserved for you, apparently.

“Okay,” she announced. “Here’s how it’s going to work. We’ve got three rooms for guests. Each one has its own fun layout.”

You narrowed your eyes. That tone was never good, not when she used it looking your way, and you simply hoped that your gut feeling wasn’t right this once. 

“Room One, Isa, Winter, Yunjin.”

The girls high-fived and squealed, already plotting aesthetic corners and matching pajamas, and you stood there, knowing what was to happen when you weren’t put up with the girls. 

“Room Two, Yeonjun, Heeseung, Beomgyu, Jaemin, and Hyuck.”

Someone groaned in the back, definitely Hyuck, “why do we get the bunk beds?”

Karina grinned, “because you snore, Hyuck.”

Then she paused, flipping the page. “Room three—hm, this one’s interesting.”

Your stomach dropped when it was finally the time to say it out loud. 

“No,” you said immediately, “whatever it is you’re about to say, no.”

Karina ignored you, “room three has one double bed and one single, and it goes to—Y/N, Jay, and Jake.”

Silence.

Then the crowd erupted into laughter, Beomgyu complaining about how it should be him with you instead, meanwhile, the girls wondering who’s gonna make it out of the room alive, because with that pairing, someone was bound to murder the other.

“You’re fucking kidding,” you whispered, horrified, already reaching out to Karina who was on the verge of running away, laughing hard at your expressions, “what? No. Are you serious?”

Jay looked up from his drink with mock surprise, as if Jeno had already told him what was to happen, “Huh? That’s unfortunate.”

Jake’s eyes went wide, almost comical, “wait—what? All three of us?” He asked, pointing at himself. 

Karina nodded, grinning too wide, still rushing around trying to not get caught by you, “unless someone wants to sleep on the couch?” She asked, chuckling as she hid behind Jeno for shield. 

“I’ll sleep in the ocean,” you said flatly, moving back now that you knew Karina was safe and hiding behind a tall, muscular man. 

Jake scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, I don’t mind the single bed—unless you want to share.”

Jay choked, not expecting that kind of reaction from Jake, “she’d rather sleep with a thesis on stem cell regeneration.”

“Oh my god, this can’t be happening,” you muttered.

Karina clapped her hands. “Settled! Take your bags upstairs. Good luck.”

You stood frozen as the group dissolved into laughter and chatter, your fate sealed, this trip was going to kill you.

And it hadn’t even begun yet.

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@jaeminvore @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @en-myworld @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @ikeuizm @woniebae @lalalalawon @blessedcursd @skzenhalove @heesuncore @seuomo @kyurizeu @haechan-nahceah @tobiosbbyghorl @jezzebear @jaehoonii @itsgivingitalian @bunhoons @hyacandoit @luvswonyoung @ma-riiii @addictedtohobi @heeliopheelia @haanigurl @dopedels @kaykay11sworld @glitterjay @skzooluvr @yongbokified @prkhaven @kristynaaah @tinycatharsis @filmnings @mwahvvis @hoonprksung

perm taglist open! comment or send an ask to be added!

© jaylaxies | tumblr

[katebeckets]

because tumblr is the gif website, I feel like everyone here should understand the work that goes into creating a gifset. because I think not everyone does, and it’s a huge part of why people don’t respect gif makers the way that they should.

the simplest gifs you will ever see me post still take the better part of an hour to create. because in order to make a gif, you need the material—for me, that means taking screen captures of videos or finding a download for them, both of which take time. then you have to open photoshop and create your gif, which can take a really long time depending on how quick photoshop is, how long the gif you’re making is, the size, any number of variables. and then I always color my gifs from scratch. if there’s dialogue, I listen over and over to try to make sure it’s correct, sometimes I look up transcripts, and sometimes it takes time to decide how to break up the dialogue. so even if it’s a simple two-gif set of a short scene, it will take the better part of an hour at least. and again, this is for the simplest gifsets I create.

so when I gif a scene, I am spending at least an hour with that tiny little snippet of material. which means that whatever it is that is featured in the gifset, it’s something that I like or tolerate enough to spend at minimum an hour with it. and this is why it DOES NOT MATTER if you are not critiquing the gif itself, gif makers do not want to hear every negative thought you have ever had about an actor, character, scene, or anything else they may have made a gifset for. if you want to complain about something, make your own post.

do not take someone else’s creation as a chance to complain or make nasty comments about anything featured in it. if I am willing to gif something, it means that I am willing to spend my own free time looking at it and working with it and creating something with it. so even if it isn’t my favorite scene or character or actor or whatever, I like it enough to watch the same three second clip over and over again for the better part of an hour. and yes, you’re just one person, but imagine a gifset with 100 notes. say 50 of those are reblogs, and 20 have some sort of complaint in the tags. you only see the tags of people who reblog from you, but OP will see all the tags. which means it’s not just your complaint, it’s all 20 different complaints about the thing they liked enough to make a gifset for.

and look—I understand it’s your blog and you can say whatever you want. I understand that I am creating something to be seen by other people and I don’t get to control what people say or do in the tags. if you read this and think fuck that, I can do what I want, you’re right. the purpose of this post is to remind you that you can do whatever you want, but the consequence may be that the people who are creating content for your fandoms stop posting altogether because they get sick of reading everyone’s negative opinions.

all that said, for the love of god: if you like something, reblog it. send asks and tell people you like their creations. say it in the tags. send things to friends. DO NOT REPOST THINGS. if you want to reap the benefits of other people creating things, make them feel like their work is appreciated.

[no-144444]

farm girl- o.piastri

summary: what's a better way to a guys attention than shouting at him for being too slow?

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! clarkson farm, farm-hand!! reader

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You weren’t the biggest fan of Jeremy’s reality show, but you enjoyed working the farm, so, as per your agreement, you wouldn’t be featured in episodes as much as possible. You were so far removed in fact, that you didn’t even know that someone else was driving the tractor when you shouted for them to ‘stop being shit’ at driving it. 

“Y/n!” Jeremy shouted. “Stop being rude!”

“What?” you scoffed. “I swear to god, if Finn doesn’t fucking speed up I’m going to-” you started, but stopped yourself when you saw none other than Oscar fucking Piastri in the driver’s seat with an embarrassed and guilty smile on his face. “Sorry,” you offered, internally cursing yourself. “Continue on!” you announced before turning back and continuing on with more of your duties. 

Oscar looked after you as you walked, an amused smile on his face. “Who’s that?”

“Y/n, one of our farmers,” Jeremy explained, a chuckle on his lips. “She’s… fiery.”

“She’s damn good at her job!” someone from off-camera chimed in, making everyone chuckle. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

As his day went on, he caught glimpses of you. You were tending to animals, or showing someone around, or just generally being beautiful and mysterious. He was desperate to know more. He asked a million questions about you, and he was sure everyone was aware of his not-so-secret crush on you.

“You should ask her out, she likes F1,” Jeremy advised as they sat down to lunch. “You’re one of her favourite drivers.”

He still got surprised when people knew him, forgetting sometimes that he is, in fact, a public figure. “Yeah?”

Jeremy laughed. “Yeah,”  he scoffed. “Kids these days…”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

When his day of hard labour came to an end, he made it his plan to seek you out, humoring Jeremy’s theory. 

“Hi,” he smiled, standing just behind you. 

You startled, jumping up from whatever it was that you were doing and cursed. “Fucking hell! Announce yourself!” You let it slip before you could really stop yourself, but you didn’t feel all that bad, he should have announced himself. 

He laughed. “What did you think I was trying to do?!”

“Scare the shit out of me?” you scoffed. “I don’t know.”

“I’m Oscar,” he held out his hand to be shaken. “Nice to meet you.”

You took his hand,shaking it quickly. “Y/n. Sorry about the whole…  tractor thing.”

“Nothing but a bruised ego,” he chuckled. “So what do you do around here?”

You shrugged. “A bit of everything, I guess.”

He nodded, and you both stood in silence for a minute. 

“Did you need something?” you questioned. “-Not to be rude, or anything, I just… I've got to get back to the rest of my stuff so… yeah.”

He smiled, enjoying the fact that you were as awkward as him. “Can I get your number?”

You stared at him for a second, then you broke out into one of the most beautiful smiles he’d ever seen. “Why?”

He stepped closer to you. “I think you’re really pretty,” he explained. “And I want to get to know you more.” 

You nodded. “Give me your phone.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[ramp-it-up]

FMK

Summary: Bucky takes you for a ride, extending the game you introduced him to.

Word count: 2.8 K

Pairing: Thunderbolts* Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: Even though I've done Congressman Bucky, I feel like this is my first Thunderbolts* Bucky Barnes. I think I love him. Give me all the feedback, good, bad, or ugly! Reblog, comment, and like.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. All mistakes my own. Smut! Thunderbolts* Bucky, Bucky on his bike (Y'all know that's a warning), man out of time, Bucky and his staring problem, picnic, semi-public sex, sloppy oral (m receiving) grinding, woman on top, raw p in v, praise kink, SIZE KINK, Doll as a nickname. This is basically porn with plot.

I do not have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

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

------

Bucky stood in front of the mirror, tugging at the collar of his worn leather jacket for the third time. But it wasn’t the fabric bothering him; it was the twitch in his fingers.

Combat never rattled him like this.

Underneath the black leather and tousled hair, beneath the facade of calm and control, was a man barely holding it together. He was chaos underneath the restraint on the outside.

Because this wasn’t just any day.

He’d been planning this for weeks. Quietly tucking away ideas and perfect details. Not to impress you, not exactly. But because you deserved perfect.

And because for the first time in his life, he wanted to be perfect. For someone.

For you.

Two months. That’s all it took. Two months since he asked you out, and you’d already rewired him. Threaded yourself through his bloodstream. Burned through walls he didn’t even know he’d built.

You saw past the metal, past the missions, past the wreckage of who he used to be. When he was with you, the blood stopped screaming in his ears. You weren’t just his safe place. You were his secret.

The one thing he didn’t report back to Valentina, or anyone.

Even though some of the first words out of your mouth to him were, “.... fuck... me?” you were surprisingly sweet. And good.

He didn’t want to get you dirty.

But lately, when you kissed him, it wasn’t sweet anymore.

It was desperate.

Your sweet mouth had turned to molten honey. Your hands held on to him like you were afraid he’d vanish, the kind of touches that said, I need you. The kind that made him ache to give in.

And every time, he restrained himself. You were worth waiting for. But God, he was unraveling. One touch, one look from you, and he was on fire.

He grabbed the helmet he bought for you, ran a hand through his hair, and said to himself, “You’ve got this, Barnes.”

Then he tried, and failed, to ignore how your needy little sounds haunted him every time he closed his eyes.

The night before was just supposed to be an innocent movie night. But you ended up in his lap, grinding that hot little pussy on his thigh, your jeans soaked through while he sat there hard as a rock, hands clenched around your thighs, jaw tight to keep from begging for mercy. He’d almost snapped.

Almost.

But you deserved more than almost. And today, he was going to take you somewhere no one else could find you. Feed you, hold you, maybe fuck you until you forgot your own name.

—

The low, thunderous purr of his bike echoed down your street, and your pulse picked up before you even saw him. The sound of Bucky on his bike always sent a rush straight between your thighs.

You’d barely made it to the door before he was pulling up, black leather, sinful jeans, and sunglasses hiding those sky-blue eyes made you want to get undressed before a word left your mouth.

You first saw him on that bike two months ago. He pulled up to your neighborhood gas station while you were filling up. You lived quite a ways from the city, and you imagined that he had ridden until he ran out of gas.

You’d imagined quite a few things about Bucky Barnes, as hot as he was, but you never thought you’d actually be in the same space as him. 

You tried not to stare. But when you looked up, he was staring at you. His eyes were locked on you, steady and unblinking. And it wasn’t a passing glance. It was full on distracted, intense staring.

Truth was, Bucky was already gone for you. You just didn’t know it yet.

You swallowed your nervousness and decided to shoot your shot. You tilted your head playfully. 

“Should I be worried? You look like you’re trying to decide whether to fuck, marry, or kill me.”

It short-circuited him. He blinked and stammered as his cheeks flushed.

“Uh… definitely not kill,” he managed, voice rough.

“Maybe marry… one day.”

He’d looked away like he’d said too much. 

You grinned. “So that leaves fuck.”

His throat bobbed.

“Yeah. Probably that too. But I’m gonna need to work for it.”

You’d liked that answer. Liked it too much. You laughed, shaking your head.

“Glad to hear it.”

Bucky looked cool on the surface, but inside he was raw as hell. He was acutely aware of how little he really knew, how much he wanted to catch up, to be able to be with you in every sense. 

It was insane, he just met you, but inside, he thought: I want you to fuck me, marry me, and kill me with your love. He wondered if you would agree to that, one day.

He wondered if you knew who you were talking to.

Bucky opened his mouth like he wanted to say more but settled for a shy smile instead. 

Then, lowering his voice just enough, he murmured, “You know who I am, right?”

You shrugged, not scared of him. “Who doesn’t?”

His smile softened.  

“Still. Thanks for talking to the guy who stared at you for a full minute like a dumbass at a Shell station.”

You leaned against your car, sipping your coffee. 

“Well, dumbass or not... I like the view.”

Bucky chuckled, summoned pre-war James Barnes, then pulled out his phone. 

“Can I have your number, Doll?”

You grinned and took another sip, his sudden panty-dropping look doing something to you.

“Aren’t you a super hero or something with unlimited resources?”

Bucky’s eyes scanned your form, then back up to your face.

“You know what…?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, went around your car and typed in your license plate. Within a minute, his phone buzzed and then turned it to you to show your contact information on his screen.

“Impressive.”

“Yeah. Guess I don’t need to kill or marry you to get your number.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Wait. What about fuck? You just left that one out.”

Bucky blinked.

“Uh... yeah. Forgot that one.”

No he didn't. Not by a longshot.

You grinned and got into your car, rolling down the window before you drove off.

“If you use that number, maybe I’ll remind you of it one day.”

—--

After a week of texting, and two months of dating, along with a night of will he? or won’t he?, Bucky showed up at your front door. The question of if last night affected him was suddenly answered. 

Bucky Barnes was your wet dream. The actual wet dream you had last night after he pulled away yet again. And now, he was leaning against his bike like he owned the world and all your future orgasms.

“Hey, Doll,” he rumbled, voice deep and sexy.

Your smile grew. 

“Hey yourself. What’s the occasion?”

He stepped close, like he couldn’t not touch you.

“Thought I’d steal you for a bit. Got a spot. No one around. Pretty view.” 

He lifted a saddlebag.

“Packed us a picnic.”

Your brow rose.

“A picnic? A ride on your bike? You trying to kill me?”

He gave you that rare laugh that he told you only you could pull from him. 

“No, ma’am. Got you a helmet. You’re safe with me.”

The look he gave you made you think otherwise. 

“I just thought maybe we could use some sunshine, some food, and some time alone.”

The way he said that last word nearly made your knees buckle.

You swallowed.

“I’d like that a lot.”

Bucky’s smile turned soft, but the heat behind his eyes said otherwise. Then he pulled out the helmet. 

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he said, stepping close enough to buckle it for you himself. 

“Let me take you somewhere I don’t gotta share you with the rest of the world.”

—

You clung to Bucky like you'd been riding with him for years, your thighs pressed flush against his hips, your chest pressed to his back. Every bump in the road made your clit pulse. Every lean into a curve made you press tighter, grinding down just enough to feel it where you needed it.

The growl of the bike between your legs had you aching and needy. He wasn’t even touching you, but you were already soaked. When he finally turned off-road into a secluded clearing overlooking a still lake, you were seconds from begging.

The engine cut. Silence fell. He turned to you, voice husky.

“Still with me?”

You nodded, breathless.

“Definitely.”

He helped you off the bike, hands dragging a little longer over your hips. You felt the heat in his touch, the restraint in his muscles. Then he grabbed the basket and blanket, heading toward the overlook.

“Promise it’s worth it,” he said over his shoulder, but his eyes were already locked on you, not the view.

You sat close. Too close. His thigh against yours. His fingers brushing yours as he handed over a drink. His knuckles grazed your knee. Every contact was a tease and a promise.

“This really is perfect,” you murmured. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

“Was saving it for you.”

Your heart flipped. The air thickened. 

“So what now? You charm me with snacks and sunlight? Then kill me?”

“Why do you keep going with that option?” he asked with another low laugh.

His eyes dropped  to your lips, then back up to your eyes.

“What about the other two?”

You had thoroughly explained the game to Bucky using him, Walker, and Bob, and Bucky hadn’t seemed to like those examples. You’d said Fuck Walker, Marry Bob and kill Bucky, just so you could say you defeated the Winter Soldier. You were teasing, but Bucky hadn’t thought it was funny.

Especially the part about Walker. You had to kiss him for a half hour before he forgave you.

But now you smiled at him angelically.

“You wanna marry me, Bucky?”

Bucky got serious. 

“Yeah, but that’s beside the point.”

He reached for you and pulled you onto his lap and kissed you as your mouth dropped open in surprise. He didn’t let you dwell on his statement for long.

“Let’s stop pretendin’ we haven’t been thinkin’ the same damn thing for weeks, Doll.”

And what’s that?” you whispered, already knowing.

His hand came up to trace your jaw and draw you even closer.

“You. Me.” 

His lips brushed your throat. 

“The way you sound when I touch you…” 

A kiss, lower now. 

“...the way you taste when I get my tongue in your mouth...” 

Another kiss, higher. 

“...and the way you ride my thigh like you’re tryin’ to make me lose my fuckin’ mind.”

You whimpered and rolled your hips instinctively against the solid ridge under you. He felt massive.

“Bucky…” 

The way you said his name broke him.

When he laid back, you climbed over him, his cock thick and hard beneath his jeans, throbbing under you. You ground against it, chasing friction, and Bucky growled.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “You feel that, Doll? That’s what you do to me.”

His hands found your waist, sliding under your shirt. When he cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples, you arched into him with a broken gasp.

“All those nights,” he rasped, “I went home and fucked my fist thinking about the way you sound.”

You whimpered. 

“I did worse.”

He stopped moving, your words were getting him close and he didn’t want to cum in his pants like a schoolboy.

“I touched myself the second the door closed. Couldn’t wait. I was dripping for you, Bucky.”

He groaned like it hurt. “Jesus, Doll.

Your fingers shook as you freed him, thick and leaking, the head flushed. You lowered your head, kissed the thick, hot tip, and licked slowly up his shaft.

He cursed, hand flying to your hair.

“Fuck. You're gonna kill me.”

You took him deeper, sucked harder and watched him lose composure with every flick of your tongue.

Bucky watched you with hooded eyes.

“Been a long time, Doll. ‘M sensitive. If you dont want- fuckkkk!”

When you gagged just a little, he growled and came hard, jerking in your mouth, spilling super soldier cum on your tongue, your lips, and down your chin.

His body trembled beneath you and his chest heaved. He looked up at you, eyes glassy.

“Oh, you’re so getting fucked.”

He pulled you up, wiped your chin, and kissed you deeply, tasting himself on your tongue. Then he slid his hand into your leggings and cupped your soaked pussy. 

“You’re fuckin’ drenched, Doll,” he rasped. “Is this all for me?”

“Yes, Bucky,” you gasped. “Please.”

His fingers played, skating in your warm, slick folds. Bucky groaned, his cock waking up again. He looked down at you and chuckled. 

“Apparently, there’s no down time with you. You’re gonna be the death of me, Doll.”

You got each other naked, not rushing now. 

“You’re so beautiful,” you whispered.

He flushed, but his hands found your waist again.

Golden hour spilled across the clearing as he lay back and pulled you over him.

And when you started to move, he murmured, “Ride me, sweetheart. Don’t hold back.”

You started writhing softly, teasing your slick folds over the hard line of him, letting your arousal coat him as your hips rolled. It wasn't exactly where he wanted to be, which was buried deep inside you, but just feeling your wet pussy lips slide over his cock caused Bucky’s breath to leave him. His hands gripped your waist like he needed something to anchor him, like he might float away if he didn’t hold you tight.

Bucky was so close, so soon. He could so easily position you to slide his hot cock right on into that juicy nirvana that was your cunt and which was leaking deliciously all over him. 

“Doll,” he warned, voice hoarse, barely tethered. “You keep that up, I’m gonna lose it.”

You smirked down at him and leaned in to whisper against his mouth, “That’s the point.”

Then you shifted, one slow, aching glide down, taking him inside inch by thick inch. His jaw locked. His eyes rolled back. And then they snapped open to watch you, stunned.

“Fuck me,” he gasped, hands sliding to your hips, desperate now. 

“You feel…Christ…you feel like heaven.”

You rocked your hips, just enough to test the stretch, which was glorious, and Bucky groaned, head dropping back as his metal hand flexed, then clutched your hip with bruising pressure. The veins in his neck stood out. His thighs trembled under you.

He was gorgeous.

You moved slowly at first, watching him come undone beneath you, every stuttered breath, every low, broken sound, your reward. His cock throbbed inside you, thick and heavy, and the friction was maddening. You braced your hands on his chest and rode him, grinding down until your clit brushed the coarse hair at the base of him, until the pressure coiled sharp and tight in your belly.

“Look at me,” he rasped, and when you met his eyes, wild and so blue and so wrecked, something inside you shattered.

Because it wasn’t just lust. It was everything. Want and need and wonder mixed with a little desperation. 

And something like love.

His voice dropped to a whisper, “Been dreamin’ about this. Every night. You on top of me, takin’ what you want. Drippin’ all over me.”

You whimpered, angling your hips to take him deeper, and when he felt it, he grunted like he’d been punched in the gut.

“Just like that, baby. That’s it.”

The praise made you clench around him. You moved faster, chasing it, and Bucky met your rhythm, fucking up into you, hard and deep. The slap of skin on skin echoed in the quiet clearing and neither of you cared if anyone heard.

Your orgasm hit fast and hard, curling your spine as your cunt fluttered around him, and Bucky cursed, holding you through it, grounding you with one hand on the small of your back and the other tangled in your hair as he sat up, mouth crashing to yours in a bruising kiss.

“Mine,” he growled against your lips. “You hear me, Doll? Mine.”

Then he flipped you, laying you gently on the blanket as he drove into you again with slow, brutal thrusts, dragging every ounce of pleasure from your oversensitive body.

You were still panting when he buried his face in your neck, groaning as he pulsed inside you. His release was fierce and deep, hips grinding into yours like he didn’t want to leave your body, like he wanted to stay buried in you forever.

After a long moment, Bucky kissed your temple.

“Well, sweetheart,” he rasped, “you killed me.”

You laughed, breathless. “You fucked me.”

He looked up at you, utterly ruined, utterly yours.

“There’s only one thing left, Doll.”

His smile blinded you as your heart leapt.

---

Let me know how you feel! :)

[salemlunaa]

VOID STATE EXPLAINED: HOW TO GET THE LIFE YOU DREAM OF ᥫ᭡

A TELL-ALL GUIDE TO THE METHOD EVERYONE IS TALKING ABOUT

so in my asks i have alot of people going “sai, you always go on and on and on and on about the void and different problems people may have, but you never explain what it is and how to get there”And to be honest with you, most of my posts were meant to be that way because i knew of other blogs explaining the void and my blog was just meant to be follow up posts for those who already knew about the void. Although, now i feel more confident and equipped to explain the void in its entirety.

so strap in for this long ass post because this is a gonna be THE guide (if you can’t tell i’m very excited for this post)

i just wanna say that this post is an inspiration and a remix of all those that have inspired me

1. What is the void?

so as you can see yourself and life right now is you in the physical plane (the notorious 3D) you are experiencing the world as *your name* *your lastname*, and your experience is confined by the way that you initially came into the world, being y/n y/ln . The void, originally known as the “I AM” state is when you leave that experience behind, you leave the physical world behind and become nothing and everything at the exact same time. And doing so you can create and destroy absolutely anything in your experience = your reality which is why people call their destination after the void their “dr”=“desired reality”.

2. Why the void?

This method is seen as very effective and efficient once you know how to do it right because it’s a “method” in which your subconscious mind is in full control, which means you can do absolutely anything and that’s not some conspiracy or belief, it is a fact that when entering this subconscious-based meditation state that you can do absolutely anything, which is why i said that you have the power to create and destroy anything in the physical plane, altering your experience. You can change your genetics, your family and friends, your wealth, gender, where you live and much more. You can also redesign things, like a country for you to live in, your age, your s/o’s age, your memories and just your life in general. Just one trip to the void and all that you dream of is yours.

The void doesn’t have to be pitch black you can design it anyway you like, i see alot of people in my dms and asks, saying that the pitch black scares them, but your void can look anyway you want.

personally i’m not scared but i just wanted my void to look cute so i added pink stars to the pitch black

3. How do i get to the void?

There are many ways to get into the void, you can follow a guided many meditation, you can listen to subliminals or waves, you can simply affirm, you can visualise, or you can simply do none of these and go into the void with just the intent, KNOWING that it’s apart of you. You don’t need any method to tap into the void, all you need is yourself and the intent, knowing it’s apart of you and not some magical fairyland. You can enter at anytime of day, because you’re a god and don’t need to be confined to “time”. “Time” is a malleable concept and i’ll be dammed if you guys waste your days because you only believe that you can tap in at night.

4. Problems people have with the void

3 things: wavering, laziness and putting the void on a damn pedestal

a lot of you guys fail to enter the void simply because you try to enter. all the things i have said about the void make it almost impossible to believe, a golden ticket to your dream life with one trip to the void. And because of the fact that we have been conditioned to believe that we have to work for everything we have, this just seems to good to be true. and you see the void as some magical place when it’s YOU, the void is YOU, why do you think you affirm “I Am”? well it’s because the void is literally the state of you being everything but nothing, it is not a place it is a state, hence the void STATE, the “I Am” STATE. it’s a meditative state and that’s it.

When you enter the "I AM" state, why do you affirm phrases like "I am, I am pure consciousness, I am the void, I am unattached to any reality, I am faceless and formless"? It's because these affirmations align you with your divine essence, your true God Self. However, this practice is often short-lived. You enter this state briefly, and when you don't experience any immediate changes or wake up in the same shitty reality, you begin to doubt. You think, "Why hasn't it worked? I must be doing something wrong. I'll try again tonight." This is what wavering looks like. You declare yourself to be in the "I AM" state, but when it doesn’t immediately manifest, you believe it hasn't worked and attempt to re-enter it repeatedly. This endless cycle of trying can confuse your subconscious mind. Instead of truly embodying the state, you're constantly oscillating, creating inconsistency and doubt.

STOP TRYING AND START BEING, OR YOU WILL GET NOWHERE

the void is the easiest thing ever and it is owed to you, because it is you

you can literally enter right now and have every single thing you’ve ever wanted, with just a meditation state, the void isn’t the one with the power it’s you. The void is inside of you and it is lifeless, the only time it gains any power is when YOU step into the equation. As i once said, the void is your bitch not the other way around.

5. Unhealthy relationships

Although the void is one of the best methods i know, i would hate for anyone to accumulate an unhealthy, toxic relationship with the void. The void is as easy as breathing, i know, but it can be alot for some of us to wrap our heads around due to the way we have been conditioned to think (which hurts my heart more than you know). I see people spend months and years trying to get into the void going through an emotionally taxing experience with it. Although i tell people it doesn’t matter how much time you’ve “wasted” and not to let that discourage you because you could really enter now if you put your mind to it (no pun intended) , if you know that it has been eating you up trying for the void going around a constant cycle, please take a break or use other methods.

now with that i say go, go and redesign yourself, deconstruct yourself and create the new you, start from scratch and make your dream self, go to the void and get your dream life.

don’t try, just be 🌊💋

i really hope you loved this as much as i do, now go get your dream life -salem ᥫ᭡