#male asmr

[peppymintdreams]

Threads Rewoven

Zaros Kymen Atha’lin x Earis (Modern AU)

Request via @vionnette the children called and mother answered I had to sketch this out had to get back in my fashion phase to make some things make sense (I apologize if it didn’t meet your expectations)

───※ ·❆· ※───

The echo of his footsteps bounced off the polished marble floors as Zaros Kymen Atha’lin strode into the dimly lit corridors of the Serulla Vogue building. Once a bastion of creative brilliance and bold artistry, the iconic space was now a shadow of its former self, slated for demolition after this final, star-studded fashion show.

Zaros had promised himself he’d never return to this world. Not after that night—the royal ballroom show.

He clenched his jaw at the memory. That had been his finest work, a collection so daring, so avant-garde that it had left audiences breathless. But none of it mattered. The competition had been rigged. Every designer knew it, every critic whispered it: Earis Ilves had been given more time, more resources, more attention. When the scores came in and Earis was crowned Serulla’s Fashion Heir, Zaros had walked away, humiliated and furious.

He retired that night. Left the spotlight. Stopped creating.

But now, with the runway itself on the brink of destruction, he had returned—not as a designer, not as a makeup artist, but as a model.

For weeks, his inbox had been flooded with desperate pleas from designers, each clamoring for his name to bolster their collections. Zaros had skimmed the emails with disinterest, finally picking a request at random. To him, it didn’t matter. He wasn’t here to win.

He was here to advocate.

For the workers. For the designers. For the creative souls who had built this industry. The demolition of the Serulla Vogue building wasn’t just the end of a structure—it was the erasure of a legacy.

The Serulla Vogue building wasn’t just any runway. It had been the cradle of countless careers, the backdrop of every pivotal moment in fashion for decades. Zaros could still remember the first time he’d walked its gilded halls, fresh out of university and filled with ambition. Back then, it had felt like stepping into a dream—every corner was alive with the hum of sewing machines, the click of heels on polished floors, the hushed tones of designers whispering about upcoming collections.

It was here that Zaros had first met Earis Ilves.

The memory of that first encounter was etched into his mind. Earis had walked into a pre-show critique with the kind of effortless confidence that turned heads, their piercing gaze sweeping over Zaros’s collection before offering a curt, “It’s bold. But predictable.”

At the time, he had been too stunned to reply, but that single comment had lit a fire in him. Earis became his benchmark, his rival, and—though he’d never admit it—his equal. For years, they had competed on the same stages, their names often spoken in the same breath as the future of Serulla’s fashion world.

But no rivalry burned hotter than the one that culminated in the Royal Ballroom Show.

Zaros clenched his fists at the memory. The weeks leading up to the event had been a whirlwind of sleepless nights and frantic creation. He’d poured his soul into that collection—pieces that defied convention, blending traditional Serullan designs with sharp, modern silhouettes. He’d known it was his best work.

And yet, when the scores were tallied, it was Earis who stood victorious.

As he entered the makeup room, whispers erupted like a ripple in still water. Stylists clutched their pearls, makeup artists froze mid-stroke, and models exchanged wide-eyed looks.

“Is that…?”

“He’s back.”

“It’s really him.”

Zaros ignored the murmurs, his expression sharp and unreadable. He wasn’t here for their adoration or gossip. He was here to make a statement.

“The designer should be here soon,” his manager said softly, breaking through the tension.

“Thank you,” Zaros replied, his tone clipped. His manager nodded and left the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Zaros sat on the plush makeup chair, staring at his reflection. His sharp cheekbones, piercing emerald eyes, and perfectly styled hair mirrored the man he used to be, yet something in his gaze felt heavier.

He couldn’t stop himself from thinking about the last time he’d been here. The photo of Earis on the magazine cover haunted him still:

EARIS TAKES THE CROWN AS SERULLA’S FASHION HEIR

The image still haunted him—Earis draped in their winning design, a shimmering gold-and-crimson ensemble that looked like it belonged to royalty itself. At the time, he’d told himself it was rigged. The whispers confirmed it: Earis had been given more resources, more time, and more leeway from the judges. It hadn’t been a fair fight.

But deep down, part of him had wondered if Earis had simply been better.

He remembers it vividly the last thing earis said to him before they had parted, it was after earis had won tears of joy streamed their face as they waved to the crowd backstage they told him “you are a disgusting leech who won my trust, only to break me after. Knowing you is my greatest regret, I never want to see your face again”. That was eight years ago.

The thought had eaten at him, gnawing away at his confidence until he could no longer bear to set foot in the fashion world. He’d walked away, leaving behind the world they had both shaped. And just like that, Earis disappeared too.

In the years that followed, Zaros had heard little of them. Rumors swirled—some claimed Earis had retired to the countryside, others that they had taken their talent abroad. No one knew for certain.

What had happened to them after that night? Where had they gone? Rumors swirled, of course. Some said Earis had disappeared entirely, retreating into the shadows of their victory. Others speculated they had gone abroad to build an empire. But no one truly knew.

Not even Zaros.

What happened to you, Earis?

A soft knock on the door snapped him out of his reverie.

“Come in,” he said, his voice steady.

The door opened, and Zaros’s breath caught in his throat. Standing there, holding a tape measure and a fabric swatch book, was Earis Ilves.

Time seemed to freeze as their eyes met. For a moment, neither spoke. Zaros, for once, was at a loss for words.

“You,” he finally managed, his voice low and laced with disbelief.

Earis’s expression mirrored his shock, though they quickly composed themselves. “Zaros.”

“What…?” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely. “What are you doing here, my earis?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Leech” Earis replied, their voice cool but tinged with something softer—hesitation?

Zaros’s lips twitched at the sound of that old nickname. It felt like a lifetime ago, yet hearing it again stirred something in him—annoyance, nostalgia, maybe even a touch of longing. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs as if to mask his unease.

“I’m here to protest the destruction of this building,” Zaros said, his voice regaining its sharp edge. “But I suppose I should have expected to find you lurking in its final moments. Are you here to celebrate your victory, my Earis?”

Earis closed the door behind them with an audible click, their movements measured and deliberate. They didn’t answer immediately, taking a moment to set their tools on the vanity table. Zaros watched them carefully, searching for cracks in their composure.

“Believe it or not, I’m here to work,” Earis replied, finally meeting his gaze. “I didn’t think I’d see you again, let alone like this.” They gestured to him, their tone as unreadable as their expression. “Modeling, of all things? How... unexpected.”

Zaros chuckled dryly, though the sound was devoid of humor. “Why bother designing when the game is rigged? It’s easier to just wear the clothes and leave the politics to someone else.”

A flicker of something crossed Earis’s face—guilt, perhaps, or regret. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “You’ve changed,” they said softly, pulling a tape measure from their pocket. “But then, I suppose we both have.”

Zaros bristled at the implication. “And yet, here you are. Still clinging to this world.”

Earis stepped closer, the scent of their perfume reaching him—a familiar, intoxicating blend of sandalwood and citrus. It stirred memories he’d long tried to bury. “I’m here because this is my world,” they said, their voice firm. “I wasn’t going to let it crumble without a fight.”

Zaros narrowed his eyes. “So, you’re here to save the building too? How noble of you, my Earis. Tell me, is this another chance for you to steal the spotlight?”

Earis stopped in their tracks, the tape measure dangling loosely in their hand. Their eyes met his, and for the first time, Zaros saw a crack in their armor. “Do you really think that’s all I care about? After everything?”

The vulnerability in their voice caught him off guard. Zaros hesitated, unsure how to respond. This wasn’t the Earis he remembered—the fierce competitor who had always been three steps ahead of him. This Earis seemed... tired. Worn.

“I don’t know what you care about anymore,” Zaros admitted, his tone quieter now. “I stopped trying to figure you out years ago.”

Earis looked down, fiddling with the edge of the tape measure. “I didn’t ask for what happened that night,” they said, their voice barely above a whisper. “The resources, the attention... none of that was my doing. But you wouldn’t listen. You just... left.”

Zaros scoffed, his eyes narrowing as the bitter memories surged back. "You didn’t ask for it?" he echoed, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. "You didn’t stop it either. You didn’t say a word when they handed you the crown on a silver platter, my Earis. You stood there and soaked it all in—like it was your birthright."

You straightened, meeting his glare with one of your own. "What was I supposed to do, Zaros? Refuse? Hand it over to you out of pity? That’s not how this world works, and you know it."

"Pity?" Zaros laughed, but the sound was hollow. "You think I wanted pity? I wanted fairness! I wanted the recognition I earned, not to stand there like an idiot while you basked in the glow of a rigged victory."

Your jaw tightened, and for a moment, he could see the frustration simmering beneath your composed exterior. "It wasn’t rigged," you shot back, your voice sharper now. "Yes, I had more resources. More attention. But I didn’t control that, Zaros! I worked just as hard as you—harder, maybe. You think it was easy for me, carrying the weight of everyone’s expectations? Always being told I had to be perfect?"

"Spare me the sob story," Zaros snapped, rising from his chair. "You had everything handed to you. Connections, sponsors, the judges eating out of your hand. Don’t stand there and tell me it was the same for you."

You stepped closer, your eyes blazing with a fire that sent a shiver down his spine. "You think I didn’t see how much it hurt you that night? You think I didn’t care? I did, Zaros. But I wasn’t about to throw away my chance just to make you feel better. I wanted to win. I had to win."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, all he could do was stare at you. Your honesty was brutal, unyielding, and it struck a chord he wasn’t ready to confront.

"And you did," Zaros said bitterly, his voice quieter now. "You won. You got everything you ever wanted. So why do you look just as miserable as I feel?"

Your lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. For a moment, the tension between you hung thick in the air, charged with years of unresolved anger and something else neither of you wanted to name. Zaros’s gaze softened despite himself, and he hated that even now, you could still make his heart ache in ways he didn’t understand.

"Don’t flatter yourself," you said finally, your voice trembling just enough for him to notice. "I’m not miserable. I’m... I’m here to work. That’s it."

"Right," Zaros muttered, stepping back as if putting distance between you would shield him from the emotions threatening to surface. "And I’m just a model. That’s it."

The words felt like a lie, but he didn’t dare linger on them. He couldn’t afford to. Still, as he turned his attention back to the mirror, he couldn’t shake the feeling that you were just as lost in the past as he was. Neither of you would admit it, but the distance you’d created hadn’t erased the memories. It had only made them sharper, more painful.

He glanced at you through the reflection, catching the way your shoulders tensed, your fingers clutching the tape measure a little too tightly. You opened your mouth as if to say something, but closed it again, the words slipping away before they could take form.

Zaros turned to face you fully, his expression unreadable. "We’re not the same people we were back then," he said quietly, the anger in his voice giving way to something softer. "But if you think for a second that I don’t miss the way things used to be... then you’re as blind as I was."

Your eyes widened, the facade you’d carefully built cracking for just a moment. But then, just as quickly, you straightened your spine, masking whatever vulnerability had slipped through. "The past is the past," you said, your tone cold and final. "It’s better that way."

Zaros didn’t respond. He couldn’t. The weight of your words settled heavily in his chest, leaving him with a bitter taste in his mouth. As you turned back to your tools, the silence between you was deafening.

And yet, in that silence, he couldn’t help but wonder if you were lying—to him, or to yourself.

The room felt suffocating, the tension between you and Zaros heavy with unspoken truths and lingering emotions. Zaros turned his back to you, his arms crossed as he stared out the dusty window. The faint glow of the city lights filtered through, painting shadows across his sharp features. He looked tired, worn—so different from the Zaros you remembered, who always carried himself with unshakable confidence, even in defeat.

And maybe that was why, despite everything, you found yourself speaking. "Do you ever think about how it could have been? If things had gone differently?"

Zaros’s shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t turn to face you. "Every damn day," he admitted after a moment, his voice low and tinged with vulnerability. "But thinking about it doesn’t change anything, does it? We made our choices, Earis."

You hesitated, your fingers gripping the edge of the vanity table. "Maybe we did, but that doesn’t mean it’s too late to make different ones."

He finally turned to look at you, his eyes searching yours as if trying to decipher your intentions. "What are you saying?" he asked, his tone cautious, almost disbelieving.

"I’m saying..." You took a deep breath, the words sticking in your throat. "I’m saying I don’t want to keep pretending like you don’t matter to me. Because you do, Zaros. You always have."

Zaros stared at you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you thought you’d made a mistake—that he’d laugh it off or lash out, like he always did when things got too close to the heart. But then, to your surprise, he closed the distance between you in a few quick strides.

"You think I don’t know that?" he said, his voice trembling slightly. "You think I haven’t spent years trying to forget you, only to fail every single time?"

Your breath hitched as his words sank in, and for a moment, the space between you felt charged with something electric, something neither of you could deny anymore. His gaze softened, and for the first time in years, the walls he’d built around himself seemed to crumble just a little.

"But you hurt me, my Earis," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You took everything I wanted, everything I worked for, and you didn’t even look back. How am I supposed to forget that?"

You swallowed hard, the weight of his pain settling heavily on your chest. "I don’t want you to forget," you said softly. "I want to make it right. Or at least... try."

Zaros let out a shaky breath, his hand running through his hair as he looked away. "And what if trying isn’t enough? What if we’re too far gone for that?"

"Then we figure it out," you said, stepping closer. "Together. No more games, no more walls. Just... us."

He looked back at you, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and fear. "You make it sound so easy."

"It’s not," you admitted. "But I think it’s worth it. Don’t you?"

Zaros didn’t answer right away, his gaze locked on yours. Slowly, he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours in a tentative, almost hesitant gesture. The contact sent a spark through you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to hope.

"Maybe it is," he said quietly, his lips twitching into a small, almost reluctant smile. "But don’t think for a second I’m letting you off the hook, Earis. You owe me answers. And an apology."

You couldn’t help but smile back, your fingers tightening around his. "Then I guess we have a lot to talk about."

"Yeah," he said, his voice softening. "We do."

The tension in the room had shifted into something warmer, softer. You crouched underneath Zaros as he sat on a worn velvet chaise, as you measured his calves, an air of tentative understanding forming between you. For the first time in years, you allowed yourselves to talk—not as rivals or adversaries, but as two people trying to bridge a gap that once felt insurmountable.

"So," Zaros began, leaning back casually, "what’s it like being the golden child of the industry? Still stealing the spotlight wherever you go?"

You rolled your eyes, but there was no venom in the gesture. "I wouldn’t say that. It’s... a lot of work, actually. More than I ever imagined back when we were just two kids at the Academy. I’ve spent the last eight years chasing deadlines and sacrificing sleep. But I love it, even when it’s exhausting."

His brow arched as a hint of a smile played at his lips. "Earis Ilves admitting to exhaustion? I thought you were invincible."

"Hardly," you replied, shaking your head. "What about you? Modeling, huh? How’d that happen?"

Zaros let out a soft laugh, running a hand through his hair. "It’s not as glamorous as it sounds. After I left... everything, I needed something to keep me afloat. A friend of mine suggested it, and, well, apparently brooding pays well." He flashed a grin, his charm as infuriatingly effective as ever.

You chuckled despite yourself. "I’ll admit, you wear it well. But you always had that confidence—like you belonged wherever you stood."

"Confidence?" Zaros echoed, smirking. "I thought you’d call it arrogance."

You tilted your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. "That too."

The two of you laughed, the sound unfamiliar yet comforting. For a while, the conversation flowed naturally. Zaros told you about his travels, the odd jobs he’d taken, and the people he’d met along the way. You shared stories of grueling fittings, surreal moments at fashion shows, and the occasional disaster that turned into a lesson.

"I missed this," Zaros admitted suddenly, his tone softer now. "Talking to you. It’s... strange, but it feels like no time has passed, even though it’s been eight years."

You looked at him, caught off guard by his honesty. "I missed it too," you confessed, the words surprising even yourself. "Even when I told myself I didn’t."

Before either of you could say more, a sharp knock at the door interrupted the moment. The assistant poked their head in, clipboard in hand. "[Ms./Miss./Mrs/Mr] Ilves, your next fitting is in ten minutes. We need to start clearing the space."

You sighed, standing reluctantly. "Duty calls."

Zaros rose as well, his movements deliberate as he stepped closer. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a pen and a scrap of paper. Scribbling something down, he handed it to you with a casual flourish.

"My number," he said, his voice laced with teasing confidence. "Give me a call sometime, My Earis. Maybe we can pick up where we left off." He punctuated the statement with a wink, his grin making your cheeks heat despite yourself.

You took the paper, shaking your head with a bemused smile. "Still full of yourself, I see."

"Always," Zaros quipped, stepping back toward the door. "Don’t keep me waiting too long, though. I might just have to track you down."

And with that, he was gone, leaving behind the faint scent of his cologne and a strange fluttering in your chest. For the first time in a long while, you felt the faint spark of something you thought you’d lost: hope.

To be Continued…

@zsakuva

🍬

P.S. Hey… hey, you! 🫵🏾 Do you want more Sakuverse gay shit? Hit that follow button and send in a request! You’ll get notifications whenever I post new fics or incorrect quotes or head canons and maybe even a chance to have your OC featured in a story.

[reserwrekt]

Voice is deepening, decided to try to sing along with this asmr-y part of this song. Not bad imo, esp with a big ulcer on my tongue. U can hear the TV in bg lol

[silvertongueddevil]

take it slow with me

haven’t posted in a while <3

imagining my hands on your waist, guiding you up and down on me, telling you to just relax and take things slow <3

[peppymintdreams]

oh?

🤔

Maybe, who knows

🍬

Hope your holiday season is treating you well, Saku!

Question: if Zaros had instead been placed in today’s modern world, what’s he getting up to? Does any other specific occupation, fashion style, education, behavior, etc. come to mind?

I feel like he would be in the fashion industry, whether that be a model, designer, or make-up artist. He could also fit the political world, and be a loud advocate for some topics.

[noicevibes]

DONT FORGET ROT FOR THE MALE MOANING AUDIOS

My dear, I'm going to use this ask of yours as a catalyst... All of my personal favourite ASMRs, vids, etcetera... beneath the cut. Not all of them are only male moaning! Literally just all my faves I've collected LOL.

Links will not only be audios; a majority of them are videos.

Links will be from any of the following: Twitter, the Hub, Audiomack, Soundgasm, and likely other sites, so be prepared because they're not labeled, lol. And sorry if any of the links are repeated; my bad.

BUT YES, THE MALE MOANING AUDIOS UGH 😮‍💨

BLUE TEXT MEANS NEW LINKS HAVE BEEN ADDED.

Links with sparkles are my personal faves.

Edited, more added July 21, 2023

CerberosVA Now, if y'all like your man extremely vocal, if you like whimpering, or lowkey, you like the whole subby bf thing, PLEASE, THIS MAN, I cannot recommend his shit enough. He's on twt, the hub, probably the mack; please support his official work on Patreon, if you can.

x | x | x | x | x | x | x | x | x | x | x

softxwarm (hub) This guy does both asmr and stuff with his girlfriend, but his solo ASMRs are pretty coo'. I'll just share my top three since you can just sift through his videos, anyway.

one (video; solo) | two (video; solo) | three (video; solo)

moonxx911 (twt) ANYTHING by this man. I won't even both being specific; I listen to his shit on repeat, rotated.

Akiradubs (hub) He mostly does character dub audios, but he has some simpler ones that I enjoy, like this one.

one (audio, gn!; sub male, ig?)

RedactedASMR I haven't gotten so deep into the lore of it, but Redacted has a whole series of ASMRs that tell long ass stories, so if you have the time, I recommend searching him out. I believe most of them are on YouTube? Personally, Lasko is my favourite (he's so cute with the stuttering, ughhhh). I'm just going to link my personal Redacted playlist I've started, rather than link specific ones. You can find him on more platforms, but I don't think his n/sfw ASMRs are on Youtube... idk.

ncvb RedactedASMR playlist (the mack)

SeikyuuVA (hub; also on the mack) Look, Seikyuu isn't everyone's flavour... there's only a couple specific ones I enjoy, just because he really goes over the top with the sounds and aggression sometimes, LMAO, and it gives me second hand embarrassment...

Lxvesickk (twt) Just found him, hehe. Just listen…

WickLuvsU (twt) His audios are... immaculate.

X | X (play these both at the same time... you're welcome.)

Video Links, general

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 ✨ | 19 | 20

21 | 22 ✨ | 23 ✨ | 24 | 25 ✨ | 26 | 27 | 28 ✨ | 29 ✨| 30 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 ✨| 36 ✨| 37 | 38 | 39 ✨| 40 ✨

41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 (mmf✨)| 46 (aud✨)|

Video Links, mlm

I had to put these links in a separate post because I reached Tumblr's 100 link-per-post limit? Didn't know that was a thing. So, please find them here! There's about 80+ links.

Video Links, wlw

1 | 2 | 3

Characters Like, the fake dubs. I dunno what they're called.

Hanma Shuji (hub, audio; Akiradubs) Zhongli (hub, audio; Akiradubs) Akira/Joker (hub, audio; Seikyuu) Take this Audiomack link, too; it's my other personal playlist that has a shit ton of character ASMR dubs on it, and then some...

I'll have more to add along the way; keep an eye on the update date!

[dervampireprince]

ASMR | Arcane - Viktor x Listener - Reuniting With The Herald, Your Viktor [N!!SFW Patreon Preview]

[TM4A] [Arcane season 2 spoilers, set between season 2 episode 3 and 6] [Herald Viktor] [Trans! Viktor] [Dom Viktor] [Established relationship] [A continuation of the regular Viktor audios where you are together when he's in piltover, and now he's left and you've followed him] [Viktor's a little different but he's still in there] [Deification kink] [He's a little insecure at what you'll think of him but he's also got a god complex now] [Listener genitalia not-specified] [Oral on speaker] [Fingering on listener] [Telepathic-enhanced sex, Viktor can feel what you feel via touching you] [Aftercare]

This month's first Patreon fledgling tier exclusive spicy audio, the full audio is 48 minutes long. So... no one actually requested Arcane Season 2 Viktor for this months audios, though two Patreon members did request Viktor just not this scenario. Most requests do come in at the beginning of the month and Arcane season 2 hadn't come out yet but still... I do hope this is not an unwelcome return of the man who started it all (all being this entire channel, me doing voice acting, thank you for changing my life Viktor Arcane).

.

Old public spicy audios on sound gasm (link in pinned post). 2 Exclusive spicy audios on Patreon every month. I also stream on Twitch every week @ dervampireprince . [minors + ageless blogs dni. this blog is for 18+ only.] [do not repost/reupload/edit any of my content]

[autism-corner]

LEVI STARTS ASMR CHANNEL??? NOT FAKE!!

(blank/betterQuality and reference under cut =w=bb)

[ximd9000]

Vore Gut Movements and Digestion Sounds

[peppymintdreams]

Student: "Mr. Pearce, can I ask you something personal?"

Luca: blinking nervously "Um… as long as it’s appropriate for class, sure?"

Student: leaning in with a mischievous grin "Are you a top or a bottom? 'Cause I've seen your partner, and—"

Luca: choking on his coffee, face turning beet red "EXCUSE ME?!"

Student: completely unfazed "It’s just a vibe thing, you know? Like, they seem like the type to—"

Luca: flustered, burying his face in his hands "This is wildly inappropriate! We're talking about psychological development, not—what even—NO!"

Another student in the back: "That's a bottom reaction, not gonna lie."

Luca: visibly panicking "I'M YOUR TEACHING ASSISTANT, NOT YOUR FRIEND! OPEN YOUR TEXTBOOKS. NOW."

Student: smirking, whispering to their friend "Definitely a bottom."

[athletearrhythmia]

Watching some files this morning, I felt my heart racing. But "racing" is relative: it's a perception of your heart beat. So I wondered, what does it actually sound like when I feel like my heart is going a little fast? I didn't listen while I was recording because once I do, my heart starts putting on a show. I wanted an accurate reflection of what's really going on.

When your heart beats as slowly as mine, you can really feel the blood moving through your chest. You can feel your ventricles fill deeply, stretch inside of you, and it moves so slowly you can feel your heart casually wringing itself out. I calmed my heart back down, so this is what it sounds like at rest:

So jumping up to 55-ish bpm, "racing", is about 30% faster than rest for me. And that's about how much faster an average heart gets when it's excited: if your resting heart rate is 70-80, climbing just over 100bpm. It's just insane to think with the scale of my heart, these low rates really are outputting the same amount. These long, slow, practiced contractions flowing blood through my body with ease. I think I'll reward my heart with a hard cardio session. I'll post a file if anything interesting happens.

[noicevibes]

𝐦𝐥𝐦 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬

This is a continuation of the links I original had in this post here! It reached tumblr's 100 link-per-post limit, so since I had more mlm links than the other ones (... 👀), I'm giving them their own post (which is killing me bc I wanted them all together & it's ruining the aesthetic vibe I had going grrr)

All links coloured in blue are new to the original list! Links with ✨ are personal favourites/recommendations. 98% of the links lead to twt/x, but some go to the hub.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 ✨ | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 ✨ | 19 ✨ | 20 ✨

21 ✨ | 22 | 23 | 24 ✨ | 25 ✨ | 26 | 27 ✨ | 28 | 29 | 30 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 ✨| 40

41 | 42 ✨| 43 ✨| 44 ✨| 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 ✨| 49 ✨| 50 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 ✨| 55 | 56 ✨| 57 ✨| 58 | 59 | 60 ✨

61 | 62 | 63 | 64 | 65 | 66 | 67 ✨| 68 | 69 | 70 ✨ 71 | 72 ✨| 73 | 74 | 75 | 76 ✨| 77 ✨| 78 | 79 ✨| 80 ✨

81 ✨| 82 | 83 | 84

Mignon ep. 12 -> 1 2

Additionally recommending y'all to watch

Mignon (episode 11 & 12)

Hyperventilation

Hiro

[joodeeboochoo]

Yo what is up JBC fam! 🤙 Who's into those sick ASMR vibes with heartbeats? Check it out - your bro Logan is about to chillax and let you vibe to the rhythmic beats of his heart and breath. 🎧 He's got our dope digital stethoscope locked onto his chest, capturing all those gnarly sounds! It's like the ultimate relaxation session bro! 🌬️

💤 Feel the steady drum of his heart doing the guh-gunk guh-gunk thing and those deep inhales and exhales echoing through the chill vibes. So, grab a seat, kick back, and soak in the good vibes of Logan's heartbeat, my dudes! 🕺🔊

[breezysuffers]

erik truly is the duality if man because he can think of the most innovating, toe curling, back arching names ever and chooses not too nintey percent of the time

like weve got avior, hush, fucking regulus

and most of the other guys are litarlly just john in accounting.

[arrowfleur]

I really like the idea of Darlin being a dancer.

I wouldn’t be surprised if they did it in college either or at least something creative. They’re quite smart academically but in maths their is only right and wrong, there was no leeway, no exploring. Dancing is something they’d done for as long as they remembered. A way to be expressive with movement.

Their parents said it was a way to learn control at first, to dampen down their impulses and put their energy into something positive. Despite that, they enjoy it. Convincing themselves it makes them feel free but going through the rules and steps over and over to make it perfect. They learn to work through pain, to ignore their aching muscles and cut up feet. They don’t do anything half-assed.

It starts controlling them.

They eventually stop as their life changes but Darlin carries dance with them every where they go. Keeping themselves small to never take up too much room, letting themself be contorted into whatever shape, pose or person necessary to fit the performance and to fit into life. Using their body to communicate, to tell a story.

All of the cuts and welts, all that practise and patience only useful when it comes to agility in fights now. It was a stupid dream, bruises and anger in a leotard? Even stage makeup can’t cover their scars. What an idiot they’d been.

But then Sam comes into Darlin’s life and he makes them home cooked meals and they bulk up. He see’s them for who they are, not who he wants them to be. And he fumbles around in the moonlight with them, trying his best as they spin each other.

They feel free and Darlin doesn’t have to perform anymore but they do get to dance again.

[peppymintdreams]

How he wakes his partner up.

How would your loving partner wake you up in the morning

Luca

Normally:

Luca gently caresses their shoulder or traces soft circles on their arm. His voice is quiet, almost a whisper, as he says, "Hey, time to wake up, love." If they grumble, he’ll kiss their temple and chuckle softly.

In Urgency:

Luca shakes their shoulder lightly but firmly, his voice sharp but still concerned. "Babe, wake up! We’re late!" If that doesn’t work, he pulls them up and attempt to pick them up (it fails miserably he accidentally dropped you on the floor).

To Be Sweet:

Luca kisses their face—forehead, neck, nose, cheeks—while murmuring, "Good morning, beautiful," between each kiss. He brings in a cup of coffee or tea if he’s really trying to spoil them, smiling as they stir awake.

To Be an Ass:

He leans in close and loudly whispers, "WAKE UP!" right into their ear. If that fails, he’ll start tickling them, or jump on the bed or yank the blanket off, smirking like the little menace he can be. "Rise and shine, sleepyhead!"

Isaac

Normally: He gently rubs their back or shoulder while softly calling their name, his voice low and tender. If they’re a deep sleeper, he might kiss their forehead or whisper something sweet to coax them awake.

In Urgency: He shakes them lightly but firmly, his voice sharp and serious. There’s no time for softness—he’ll pull the blankets off if he has to, urging them to get moving with a clear sense of urgency in his tone.

To Be Sweet: He makes their favorite breakfast and brings it to them in bed. With a playful smile, Isaac quietly sits beside them on the bed, brushing their hair out of their face and admiring how peaceful they look. He presses soft kisses to their forehead and cheeks, murmuring how much he loves them and how beautiful they are. His voice is gentle and soothing as he tells them it’s time to wake up, but he doesn’t rush them, letting them take their time as he strokes their hair or holds their hand.

To Be an Ass: He pulls the blankets off in one swift motion and opens the curtains wide, letting the sunlight stream in. Then, with a smirk, he teases, “Rise and shine, lazy pickle!” He might even tickle their feet or read his cases obnoxiously to ensure they’re up.

Andrew

Normally:

Andrew sits on the edge of the bed, brushing a hand gently over your hair. His voice is soft, calm, and soothing as he says your name, coaxing you awake with a warm, "Time to get up, my love."

In urgency:

He shakes your shoulder firmly but not roughly, his voice low and serious as he says, "Darling, wake up—now. Something’s happened." There's no room for argument, but his concern is palpable.

To be sweet:

Andrew kisses your temple, trailing soft kisses down to your jaw while murmuring, "Good morning, beautiful. Wake up before I get too tempted to keep you in bed all day."

To be an ass:

Andrew yanks the blanket off you with zero remorse, smirking as he declares, "Rise and shine! You’re wasting precious daylight!"—then dodges whatever pillow you inevitably throw at him.

Elias

Normally:

Elias typically wakes his partner up by sitting on the edge of the bed, gently nudging their shoulder or brushing their hair away from their face. His voice is soft and low, as if he’s trying not to disturb the peace of the morning. “Hey, rise and shine. I made coffee.” It’s a casual but caring gesture, and he always waits for them to stir before getting up.

In Urgency:

If it’s an emergency, Elias skips all formalities. He pulls the blankets off without warning and claps his hands loudly. “Up! Now! We gotta go!” His tone is sharp, and his adrenaline makes him borderline frantic. If they don’t immediately react, he might scoop them up and start hauling them out of bed, muttering, “No time for sleeping, let’s move!”

To Be Sweet:

On particularly soft mornings, Elias wakes his partner up by lying back down beside them, wrapping his arms around their waist, and pressing a kiss to the back of their neck or forehead. “Good morning, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice still thick with sleep. “I didn’t want to wake you, but I missed you.” He lingers, savoring the quiet moment.

To Be an Ass:

When he’s feeling mischievous, Elias goes full chaos mode. He cranks up obnoxious music on his phone or starts shaking the bed like a child having a sugar rush. “Time to wake up, sleeping beauty!” If they don’t react, he might pull out a spray bottle and spritz them lightly with water, laughing when they jolt awake. “What? You said you wanted to hydrate more!”

Xanthus

Normally:

Xanthus prefers a subtle approach. He sits on the edge of the bed, leaning down to brush his cool lips across their forehead. His voice is low and smooth, a gentle “It’s time to get up, darling,” paired with a light touch to their shoulder. If they stir but don’t fully wake, he might softly tease, “Don’t make me resort to more drastic measures.”

In Urgency:

There’s no time for pleasantries. He yanks the blankets off in one swift motion, his crimson eyes glowing with intensity. “Get up. Now,” he commands, his tone leaving no room for argument. If they don’t immediately react, he’ll grab their hand or wrist and pull them upright without hesitation, his grip firm but not painful.

To Be Sweet:

Xanthus is uncharacteristically tender in moments like these. He lies beside them, his arms curling protectively around their body. His lips brush their ear as he murmurs softly, “Good morning, my love. It’s a beautiful day, and I couldn’t bear to start it without you.” He might stroke their hair or trail kisses along their neck until they wake, his voice laced with affection as he whispers, “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

To Be an Ass:

If he’s in a mood, Xanthus skips the gentle approaches entirely. He grabs them by the ankles and drags them halfway off the bed, a mischievous smirk tugging at his lips as they wake with a startled yelp. “Rise and shine,” he drawls, feigning innocence. If they glare at him, he only chuckles darkly, “What? You weren’t getting up, so I helped.”

🍬

P.S. Hey… hey, you! 🫵🏾 Do you want more Sakuverse gay shit? Hit that follow button and send in a request! You’ll get notifications whenever I post new fics or incorrect quotes or head canons and maybe even a chance to have your OC featured in a story.

[6-atlas-6]

Can people stop implying that you're either misogynistic or racist if you hate Alexis 😭

1. Not everyone imagines her as a poc and even if they do, you can hate a poc without making it about their race?

2. No, I don't hate her because she's a woman, I hate her because she turned Sam without his consent. Not even without his consent, it was a very clear NO.

3. Y'all hated Quinn when he was first mentioned with little to no information on him, why does Alexis not get the same treatment? Hell for all we know he could've gotten a redemption arc but that didn't stop anyone. (I wasn't there for the Fred & Bright storyline so bear with me)

Yes, maybe she was just scared of losing the man she loved and felt like she didn't have a choice. I also highly doubt that was the main reason. She knew full well Sam was a healer. If she had stuck to the agreement of only hooking up with him with no feelings attached, it would have never happened.

Even if she does somehow get a redemption arc, she doesn't deserve forgiveness for something like that.