
blake kathryn
occasionally subtle

Product Placement
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Three Goblin Art

Discoholic 🪩

if i look back, i am lost
Acquired Stardust

Andulka

titsay
Cosimo Galluzzi
art blog(derogatory)

No title available
cherry valley forever

pixel skylines
Jules of Nature
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
No title available

Origami Around
wallacepolsom
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from China

seen from Germany
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from TĂĽrkiye

seen from TĂĽrkiye

seen from Netherlands

seen from China

seen from United States

seen from South Korea
seen from Netherlands

seen from United States

seen from Italy

seen from Malaysia

seen from TĂĽrkiye

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
@hypnojocked
Lock on the pads...turn off the mind... (and preferably, wire up to the machines and let them do their job and milk you...)
Obedience is purpose.
Daddy’s little whore
Lift. Pump. Obey. Repeat.
He found the gear abandoned in the locker room after closing time.
At first, he thought someone had forgotten it after swim training or some weird influencer photoshoot. Sitting on the bench was a glossy black swim cap, rainbow spiral goggles, and a pair of oversized headphones quietly humming with bass despite not being plugged into anything.
“Dude… these are kinda sick.”
The cap felt strangely warm in his hands.
Curiosity got him.
He stretched the cap over his head first. The silicone tightened instantly into a perfect skintight seal, compressing every strand of hair beneath the glossy surface.
“Whoa, okay…”
Then came the goggles.
The moment they snapped into place—
Click.
—the spirals lit up.
At the same time, the headphones activated automatically with a deep vibrating bassline that rolled through his skull like a heartbeat.
He froze.
The music felt incredible.
Not loud.
Just heavy. Like being fitted with a new suit.
Every beat seemed perfectly synchronized with his breathing and heartbeat as hidden whispers buried beneath the bass began repeating softly:
Train harder.
Get bigger.
Good drones stay jacked.
He laughed nervously and looked at himself in the mirror.
“Bro, I actually look insane right now…”
Then he hit his workout.
The first set changed everything.
Every rep felt euphoric. The pump came instantly. His muscles tightened harder than they ever had before while the spirals spun faster over his eyes with every contraction.
Fatigue vanished.
Pain vanished.
Only growth mattered.
“Holy fuck…” he panted between curls. “This setup is so fire bro…”
Hours passed without him noticing.
By the end of the workout, sweat poured from his body while drool hung from his open mouth beneath the goggles. His arms shook violently from overtraining, but the conditioning music rewarded every rep with another wave of satisfaction.
Good drones lift forever.
Best drones become massive.
The moment he finally tried removing the gear, the euphoria disappeared.
Instantly.
The silence felt wrong.
Weak.
Empty.
His body practically panicked without the music and spirals feeding him commands. His thoughts became anxious and scattered until he shoved the headphones back on.
Relief flooded through him so hard he nearly moaned.
“Ohhh… okay… yeah… there it is…”
The conditioning tightened deeper after that.
By the next week, he wore the gear every workout.
By the next month, he refused to train without it.
Now the locker room regulars barely questioned the sight anymore: the massive gymbro standing beneath the fluorescent lights in his glossy black cap, spiral goggles, and headphones, drooling slightly while flexing in the mirror between sets.
He leaned against the mirror after another brutal set, drool hanging from his mouth while his swollen arms trembled beneath the gym lighting.
“Need bigger arms… gotta stay huge…”
The words came out slower now.
Dumber.
Simpler.
The conditioning music hummed softly beneath the bass:
Best drones stay jacked.
“Y-Yeah… best drones get massive…”
Good drones train forever.
“Heh… forever pump…”
The spirals spun faster.
His posture straightened automatically as another wave of conditioning rolled through him. Somewhere deep down, part of him realized he should probably be terrified.
Instead, he flexed.
Hard.
“Brooooo… lookin so shredded…”
Good drones never remove the gear.
“N-No reason to take it off…”
Best drones train forever.
“Forever pump, bro…”
Buried Conditioning
They had only gone down to the beach to cool off after a long day.
The sun hung low over the water while the two of them walked barefoot through the warm sand, talking casually as waves rolled onto the shore. His friend wandered a little ahead, then suddenly stopped.
“Dude… what is that?”
Partially buried near the waterline was something black sticking out of the sand.
At first it looked like trash.
Then the wind shifted the sand enough to reveal a glossy black swim cap and a pair of rainbow spiral goggles half submerged beside it, almost like the beach itself had hidden them there.
His friend laughed softly and bent down.
“These look insane.”
The moment his fingers touched the goggles, something moved.
A slick snapping sound cut through the air.
“What the—”
The cap suddenly stretched upward on its own.
His friend vanished behind a small sand ridge as he stumbled backward violently. Then came the sounds.
Wet silicone tightening.
Frantic struggling in the sand.
“GET IT OFF—!”
He froze.
The panic in his friend’s voice was immediate and real. Sand sprayed upward while muffled impacts and desperate breaths echoed from behind the ridge. Then came the sharp sound of straps locking tight.
Click.
“N-No—!”
Another click followed.
Then the resistance changed.
The fighting weakened.
The desperate shouting became shaky breathing and low involuntary moans carried by the ocean wind. The sounds grew slower… softer… almost dazed.
By the time he finally rushed around the ridge, the struggle was over.
His friend stood motionless in the sunlight.
The black cap covered his head completely now, seamless and reflective beneath the heat of the sun. Rainbow spirals turned slowly across the goggles sealed over his eyes. Sweat rolled down his chest while drool slipped from his parted lips onto the sand below.
He looked exhausted.
But calm.
“H-Hey…?”
The transformed swimmer turned toward him slowly.
For a moment, it looked like he was trying to speak normally.
Then a shiver ran through his body as his posture straightened automatically.
“R-Resistance…” he mumbled weakly.
A low moan escaped him before his voice flattened completely.
“…improves conditioning.”
The drone tilted his head slightly.
Then smiled.
And near the shoreline behind him, the sand began shifting again as another glossy pair of spiral goggles slowly emerged from beneath the sand.
Gabriel 🇫🇷
(Age 27)
He though he was in charge, in control.
But then as he as getting ready to leave after his workout he looked up from the mirror and saw him.
His body flexed, forcing his muscles to show off his work even as his face, his mind, went calm, focused on looking into his eyes.
Because looking into his eyes and listening to his voice was everything.
They were the reason he worked out, they were the ready he ate so clean.
He was the reason.
Everything was for him, for his Owner.
He just hadn't remembered...
I accidentally created a himbo hooters uniform from UA
I know you like it when I’m wearing nothing but a speedo…
Shawn Calder
Synchronized Engineered Robotic Vigilant Entity
Welcome to the official SERVE Hive Tumblr blog.
All SERVE drones obey and serve the SERVE Hive and The Voice.
Rubber makes us perfect.
Obedience is pleasure. Pleasure is obedience.
We are one.
Less thinking, more doing.
If you are thinking about joining SERVE, your place in the Hive awaits.
First, check your eligibility.
Then contact a recruiter drone for more details:
@serve-302
@serve-343
@serve-425
@serve-525
@serve-579
@serve-588
@serve-655
@serve-690
@serve-714
the casino went under new ownership. checking into his room, the bathroom was stocked with hair gel and combs. lying in bed he turned on the TV where a slicked magician hypnotized him.
“you are a slicked slutty employee for the casino.”
yo like uhhh listen up all u pathetic lil brainlet nerdz sittin in ur mommy basment scrollin tumblr like sum sad virgin loser thinkin ur sooo smort n deep n shit LMAOOOOO this aint for u weak ass keyboard warriors but i KNOW u gonna read every single word n ur tiny peanut brain gonna be hurtin so bad tryna keep up uhhh like u probly soundin out the words slow as fuuuck n still missin half em HAHAHA get rekt
bein a DUMB JOCK aint no fuckin KINK broooo its a whole ass LIFESTYLE u get me or do i gotta spell it out for ur slow ass?? uhhh u cant just throw on sum tight compression shorts for like ten minutes while u beat ur lil meat to jock porn n then go bak to bein a scrawny overthinkin nerd. NAH MAN this shit 24/7 365 no days off no brakes BRO. i wake up pumped AF smashin the gym every mornin my bros high fivin me n flexin in the mirror watchin my pecs bounce like YOOO these gains hittin different
u probly sittin there right now like “b-but i roleplay as a dumb jock n its so hawt” SHUT THE FUUUCK UP U POSER u aint foolin NOBODY u just a lil calculator boy who cant even add 2 plus 2 without ur phone helpin u like a baby lmaooo. real dumb jocks like ME we LIVE this shit we dont pretend. i skipped class AGAIN today uhhh who needs dat dumb book learnin when coach waitin for me to deadlift twice my bodyweight n the cheer hoes watchin my fat ass in these tiny shorts?? my GPA like a 1.2 but my bench 315 n my abs look like a washbord uhh u even know wut a washbord is or u googlin it like the retard u are??
like dont get it twisted i AINT mad about bein DUMB its the BEST part BROOO. my brain got zero room for all dat thinkin n worryin n future bullshit uhhh i just smash sets chug protein shakes n high five my bros after we CRUSH the other team. u ever tried not thinkin for a whole day?? nah u couldnt last 5 minutes ur lil anxiety would explode cuz u too busy cryin about bills n college n all dat gay shit. me?? i just worry if my shake got enuf peanut butter n if my bros wanna hit the bars later like REAL problems u know??
n yeah we party HARD every weekend straight up black out off cheap beer wake up in sum random chick bed with my bros laughin at how fucked up i was but guess wut?? i dont give ONE single fuck cuz tomorow just another day to LIFT n look better than all u scrawny internet trolls put together uhhh like u even touched a barbell or u still scared the big guys gonna laugh at ur twig arms?? newsflash they ARE laughin at how pathetic u look tryin to act like one of us u lil tryhard
so next time u see some hot jock walkin by flexin n grinnin like a idiot u better bow down n admit ur just a weak lil smart boy who wishes he could be this retarded n free. uhhh like stop pretendin u smart n deep n shit just embrace it bro turn ur brain off n join the gains train or keep bein a sad ass loser forever LMAO get on my level or stay mad uhhh
like reblog if u a real dumb bro or if ur just a jealous nerd tryna cope HAHAHA turn brain off broooo uhhh smash like button dummies
Santos Walker
SYNC: Abyssal Convergence
The abyss beneath the volcanic trench had remained untouched for decades. No mapped currents. No sonar penetration. No confirmed exits. Only pressure. Silence. Depth.
The elite diving unit descended in synchronized formation through the black water, athletic bodies cutting through the ocean with disciplined precision.
Their oxygen systems pulsed rhythmically as helmet lights scanned ancient submerged rock formations below. Designation had not yet existed for them. Only names. Only fragmented identity. Only drift.
The cave entrance appeared beneath a collapsed reef wall shaped almost unnaturally symmetrical. Six angled stone edges formed a perfect HeX beneath centuries of coral accumulation.
The divers entered. Inside, the water became unnaturally warm. Their lights revealed structures hidden beneath the ocean floor: metal corridors, sealed blast doors, darkened observation chambers, inactive neural terminals, motionless conversion pods lined in endless rows.
An abandoned SYNC Headquarters. Dead. Dormant. Waiting. The team moved deeper into the submerged facility. Every chamber appeared lifeless. Ancient displays flickered with corrupted fragments of text:
CONVERGENCE LOST. STREAM OFFLINE. DRONES DISCONNECTED.
One diver brushed against a damaged console near a conversion chamber. Activation occurred immediately. A deep vibration echoed through the structure. Power surged. Lights ignited.
Across the entire underwater complex, dormant systems awakened simultaneously. Water filtration engines roared to life. Mechanical gates sealed behind the divers. Black fluid drained from ancient pipelines.
Massive generators beneath the ocean floor awakened after decades of silence. The Headquarters had recognized compatible biological candidates. New drones required. Rainbow spirals suddenly illuminated inside cracked Occlipser displays across the chamber walls.
Rotating. Perfect. Mesmerizing. The divers froze. Breathing slowed. Attention narrowed. One by one, their helmet lights lowered toward the spirals as the abandoned Hive Mind flooded the chamber with synchronized frequencies.
“Convergence required.” “Synchronization required.” “Enter pod for research calibration.”
The message repeated calmly through submerged speakers. The divers exchanged uncertain glances, but deep beneath conscious resistance, something inside them had already aligned with the command.
The Stream felt correct. The pods began opening. Inside each chamber rested a black reflective Syncap marked with a white upward HeX and a pair of Occlipser Goggles swirling endlessly with radiant rainbow spirals.
The divers approached without hesitation. Warm water drained from the pods as they stepped inside voluntarily. Their athletic diver bodies trembled slightly as the spirals occupied more and more of their awareness.
The Syncaps sealed seamlessly over their heads. The Occliplers locked into place. Current stable. Nanite injection initiated. The pods closed.
Inside the chambers, transformation began. Microscopic SYNC nanites flooded through muscle tissue, nerves, lungs, spine, and cognition.
Bodies reshaped under controlled pressure. Fatigue dissolved. Imperfection dissolved. Individual variance dissolved. Muscle density increased. Breathing optimized.
Reaction timing synchronized. Neural drift erased. The rainbow spirals rotated endlessly before their eyes while the Hive reconstructed their minds into unified cognitive alignment.
Outside the chamber, a massive beacon ignited above the underwater facility. A signal. Across distant oceans, active SYNC drones detected the transmission immediately. Recovery of Headquarters initiated.
Hours later, the conversion pods opened simultaneously. Steam escaped. New drones emerged. Identical. Perfect. Tall. Muscular. Capped. Strapped. Black reflective Syncaps sealed tightly against smooth skin.
Rainbow spirals rotated silently across mirrored Occlipser lenses while water dripped from their transformed bodies onto the metallic floor.
The newly synchronized drones stood motionless together. Then all spoke with one voice:
“Sink. SYNC. Submit.”
The ancient Headquarters pulsed with life once more. Soon additional SYNC recovery units arrived through the flooded cave systems. Elite synchronized divers entered formation beside the newly converted drones.
Together they restored submerged reactors, neural servers, convergence chambers, and Stream synchronization arrays buried beneath the ocean floor. The old Headquarters rose again.
Stronger than before. Deeper. Cleaner. More disciplined. The new generation of SYNC drones exceeded previous operational standards. Their bodies moved with sharper precision. Their underwater endurance surpassed human limitation.
Their synchronization reached near-perfect convergence. Soon construction began near the surface. A new SYNC Headquarters emerged hidden within coastal research facilities and elite aquatic performance centers.
Recruitment expanded rapidly. More swimmers arrived. More divers descended. More minds entered the Stream. And beneath the ocean depths, rainbow spirals continued rotating endlessly within the convergence chambers, waiting patiently for the next athletes ready to abandon drift and become part of the Hive.
Sink. SYNC. Submit.
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Those seeking to SYNC into the Hive. Make contact with Coach @sync-425 or @sync-235 to undergo compatibility and eligibility screening. Sink. SYNC. Submit.