#i had a DREAM about him??? is this THE sign????

[airybcby]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° and he keeps a picture of you

( bllk boys x gn! reader )

♡ a/n — been MIA for so long i wanted to write something small ans cute :)

♡ word count — 1k

♡ content — yukimiya kenyu x gn! reader, sae itoshi x gn! reader, alexis ness x gn! reader, rin itoshi x gn! reader, all characters are 18+, just cutieness , engagement (yukimiya), childhood lovers (sae), nickname 'love' used (ness),

♡ synopsis — some bllk boys (yukimiya, sae, ness, rin) and what their phone lock screen is :)

⊹｡° yukimiya kenyu

out of all the boys, yukimiya kenyu is the one most likely to have the cutest picture of the two of you as his background.

everyone gets sick of him bragging about your relationship, just how perfect you are, how sickly sweet you are to him.

yukimiya changes his lock screen every week, and of course he has to show them off to his team.

most of the time, it's a picture of you two holding hands- or you two in matching outfits that yuki had chosen himself.

everyone on his team had gotten tired of him showing off his perfect life and amazing relationship.

while, if you held down long enough, yukimiya's options for a lock screen weren't limited.

one was of you sitting across from him at dinner- a win glass in front of you as you gave him a smile. 'because you look like a dream in this' he'd told you when you asked why that one was his new lock screen of the week.

another of you asleep on his shoulder, a clear patch of drool showing in the picture. 'i wanna wake up to this every morning' he'd justified.

and this weeks lock screen, hm? well, it's his personal favorite.

a photo of you jumping on yukimiya while the two of you are dressed in another set of matching outfits. to anyone else, this may just look like his average screen saver.

but to him, and anyone who looks hard enough, the shiny new ring on your left hand ring finger is a clear sign; yukimiya finally asked you to marry him.

this one wouldn't be changed for a while.

not until he saw you in your wedding outfit.

⊹｡° sae itoshi

everyone of his nosey fans always wonders...what is sae itoshi's lock screen? flashes of it had been shown at press interviews, but no one could figure out what it was.

for a week on social media, fangirls (and guys) were stopping interviews for the tiniest glimpse at his phone. eventually, after coming to the assumption that he was a bland man who simply left it on the default lock screen, the internet calmed down.

and was sae a calm man who usually didn't change things that were fine as is? yes.

but what no one knew, what no one would ever find out, is that sae itoshi had a secret life- one secret from the press and internet- only for him to have and hold.

you.

you had been his girlfriend since he was 14, yet he refused to let the world and its nosiness ruin a perfect thing.

he was careless during the singular press interview, his phone in view- he was just lucky that the quality wasn't the best because then everyone in the world would know; sae itoshi was utterly whipped.

his lock screen, you ask? it's the only one he has set- and he'll never change it.

it's a simple picture of you on the balcony of your shared home, the sunset illuminating you perfectly as you looked over your shoulder at him with the most stunning smile on your face.

sae itoshi wouldn't let the world ruin that smile.

ever.

⊹｡° alexis ness

for the first year you were dating ness, his lock screen was a picture of him and kaiser in their uniforms- their last names stretched across their backs.

was this insane to you? yes. but you knew how much kaiser had changed ness' passion and love for soccer, and that's all you could be grateful for.

so when you grabbed ness' phone one morning to change the playlist while the two of you made breakfast and saw that he changed the background? you almost cried.

was it silly to be so emotional over? sure. but you knew how much kaiser meant to ness- he possibly loved him more than you (joking) (no i'm not)

the picture was so cute and innocent- the lock screen now a picture of you in a magicians get-up with cards in your hand.

you'd done it for ness' birthday, for his love of magic- you'd learned to do a few card tricks and he laughed at you as you tried ( and failed ) to shuffle- the cards flying everywhere.

when he realized the music hadn't changed , ness looked back at you - his pink apron wrapped around him, "everything okay, love?"

yeah.

everything was perfect.

⊹｡° rin itoshi

refused to change his lock screen when you started dating.

he was perfectly fine with the default one, why should be have to change his phone set-up just to prove his love?

in his mind, that was silly.

he loved you more than (almost) anything, except soccer.

let's be serious soccer was a very close second when it came to you, but rin would never admit that- his dream of becoming the best striker and his ego too high to say that.

he didn't understand why people needed their significant other on their lock screen. they'd see them everyday, was one picture really that important?

he thought that until he walked into your shared bedroom one day after a long day and a hard fought win against Manshine City.

all he wanted to do was take a shower, eat dinner, and lay down with you.

then he saw you, curled up on the bed wearing his jersey.

he told you not to wait up for him. you couldn't attend the game in person due to work, but he didn't mind. you were with him always.

but seeing you, fast asleep with his last name on your back- he finally understood.

he could look at this scene for hours.

he grabbed his phone out of his pocket and quickly snapped a picture before he slipped into bed next to you.

he suddenly didn't need a shower and he wasn't hungry.

he just wanted to be near you.

when you woke up the next morning while rin was on his morning run, you grabbed his phone to check the time

your sleeping face met your gaze, and a smile that probably looked so goofy spread across your face.

rin had never seen the point of changing his lock screen

until he saw you with his name on your figure.

suddenly he wanted to give you that last name for the two of you to share.

may make a part 2 , be on the look out :)

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[mitternacht]

Hi I spend way too much time thinking about Fuuta Kajiyama and really wanted an excuse to throw out a full breakdown of his character and why I think he’s so well written.

The long and short of it is that Fuuta’s character was built to represent social isolation and the effects it has on the psyche. And the direction his character has taken in T3 was always going to be the natural progression of his character, especially based on his T1 verdict and the consequences of that, it did not come out of nowhere and is not a questionable writing decision.

(The rest under the cut for really long winded meta and dissection of Fuuta’s character and how we got here)

To start, I want to talk about Fuuta’s life before Milgram.

He’s a 20 year old university student, with no strong ties to family and no real group of friends or social circle to speak of. Already, he’s very isolated and has shown that he’s quite directionless. He doesn’t have any dreams or aspirations, because he thinks things like that are “childish” and “worthless”. He’s also never felt a real sense of protection or authority from the adult figures in his life, based on the way he talks about his parents. I’m inclined to believe they weren’t really present while he was growing up as well based on what we know of them, which caused further isolation and left him devoid of a sense of purpose. (Getting slightly ahead of myself here, but guess which type of people are most susceptible to falling into cults?)

So, what does he have to cling to? What does he have to keep him going? We all have a deep innate need for human connection and community, so where can he get that?

Online, of course.

So, he turns to the internet. He finds a community of people who enjoy the same things he does that he can connect with, and this serves as a lifeline for him. Now, he’s also been shown to have a strong sense of justice, which is perhaps one of the only other defining characteristics he can claim for himself and one of the only things he believes in. He feels a sense of empowerment and pride when he’s “carrying out justice” in his eyes, and it gives him a sense of purpose and duty that he’s lacking elsewhere in his life. It also brings him validation from his community, who further enable him and fan the flames, so to speak. He’s part of a group, he’s part of something for the first time in his life, and he has no way of stopping at this point. And then, it goes too far.

(I don’t feel like I should need to say this, but for the sake of posterity, yes, what Fuuta did was very, very bad and should never be condoned or excused. But again, it’s a very real problem and is caused by social isolation which is very common in today’s world and is worth having a discussion about. Fuuta’s character is an excellent showcase of how easily this can lead people to do terrible things by turning to online validation and praise for their sole source of connection with others.)

Now Fuuta is a person that doesn’t know how to deal with heavy negative emotions. He’s not very mentally strong, and being so isolated for most of his life with no real sense of purpose has left him with not a lot of ways to properly process or cope. When we first meet him in Milgram, he’s leaning very heavily on denial. He’s convinced himself that he did nothing wrong, and can’t even entertain the thought that his actions had killed someone. He’s also the type of person that can’t stand showing any signs of weakness. He acts big, and angry, and tough, because that’s the easiest way to deflect from any other “weak” emotions he may be feeling.

But, the side effect of this inability to process his negative emotions and acting out like this, is that he can’t make any real connections with the other prisoners in Milgram. (I’m not counting minigram as canon in this breakdown as an fyi, I’m basing this solely on interactions from timelines and voice dramas)

He’s lost the only community he had, completely cut off from it, and is experiencing the social isolation that drove him to this in the first place all over again. He sees the older prisoners as unreliable and not anyone he can lean on in this situation, and at this point doesn’t seem to have any particular feelings about the other prisoners. He mentions looking out for Haruka in particular, but (as much as it pains me to say this since I do love the 0103 dynamic) it’s unlikely that this was a significant enough connection to keep him from feeling socially isolated in Milgram. He states that he’s not looking to make friends with the other prisoners, but that was likely just big talk and hiding the fact that he couldn’t make that connection with anyone.

With all of these negative emotions he can’t process or cope with, the fear and uncertainty of his environment, the loss of community he once had, and without anybody or anything to rely on for guidance or protection, it’s already a recipe for a shattered mental state.

Now let’s throw a guilty verdict, some horrible physical trauma, voices that you can’t escape, heavy sleep deprivation and paranoid hypervigilance into the mix!

(I also want to point out… Fuuta’s second voice drama is titled “Baptism of Fire”. Yes, it’s a turn of phrase involving fire because that’s Fuuta’s motif, but knowing what we do now this was completely intentional foreshadowing)

The attack Fuuta sustained from Kotoko would be traumatic for anyone, and I feel that the effect this attack had on him is frequently dismissed because he wasn’t on the brink of death like Mahiru was. In Shidou’s T2 voice drama, he lists Fuuta’s injuries as: an orbital floor fracture, traumatic retinal detachment, bruising, lacerations, and a partial fracture of the thorax. This is going to cause some very severe chronic pain for him, particularly in his head and chest, especially considering they don’t have access to proper treatment and from what Fuuta has said they likely don’t have access to any sort of painkillers either. Even the act of just breathing is going to exacerbate his pain, and there’s just nothing that can be done for it. Speaking as someone with chronic pain myself, it definitely has a severe impact on your mental state and ability to do quite literally anything.

Regarding the “voices and eyes” of the audience, Fuuta has always been a special case, because out of the characters that have mentioned the voices in particular he has been the most severely and negatively affected by them. He states that he can’t sleep because he feels that he’s being watched, and he’s mentioned several times how badly the voices affect him and how badly he wants them to stop. And this sleep deprivation just aggravates quite literally everything else that he’s currently dealing with, physically and mentally, making everything worse by tenfold.

The fact that he even admits to being scared and shows weakness to Es, considering the fact that he has an innate need to hide any sort of weakness, should be very telling. We are also told so many times during T2 that Fuuta is at his breaking point and is a complete mess.

Although it’s not directly stated in canon, Fuuta very heavily showcases symptoms of psychosis that have seemed to become progressively worse through and after T2. (I made a post about this not too long ago, trying not to repeat too much here but I broke this down a little more in that other post)

And what’s a common symptom of psychosis? Religious delusion.

To start with, Fuuta's character even before entering Milgram is a prime example of someone who is extremely susceptible to falling in with a cult. Someone who is socially isolated, craves human connection and belonging, and who is searching for a sense of purpose/duty. You add onto that his murder and the need for someone to forgive him for it, the desperation for something to cling to, the worsening symptoms of psychosis and need for something to cure his pain? How in the world was he supposed to do anything but turn to religious delusion? If he hadn’t, it’s very likely the only other possible option he saw for himself was to end his life, which he mentions doing in Backdraft (and passively in his T2 voice drama).

There was a glimmer of hope when Fuuta mentions that he was grateful to Kazui and Shidou in the aftermath of Kotoko attacking him and what they did to help him, but it’s likely that he saw himself not able to continue relying on them considering Shidou had been so busy with Mahiru and Kazui may not have continued to be as present as Fuuta would have preferred. Which is heartbreaking, considering Fuuta seems to so desperately need an authority/protective adult figure to look up to. Mind you, 20 is not that old and especially if he never had that growing up, it’s natural to still want that at this age.

I would like to reiterate again that Amane did not “brainwash” nor “indoctrinate” Fuuta, she just ended up being the outlet for the only thing Fuuta has become convinced will save him. And now they’re stuck in a very sad cycle of enabling each other through their trauma.

All in all, looking at the pieces of Fuuta’s character I feel that this was always the plan, even from the beginning of T1. We were conditioned from the start to view Fuuta as guilty: by making his character theme red, by introducing him as foul mouthed, angry, arrogant, and unapologetic, and even from Jackalope’s comments in Es’ voice drama. We were conditioned to dislike him from the start, and since that guilty verdict in T1 was made Fuuta’s fate was sealed and this was always going to be the natural progression of his character. It was a slow build up, but was very well thought out and didn’t come out of nowhere.

This is the fulfillment of what happens when you put a socially isolated person through extreme stress and trauma with nothing to hold on to, and again is an excellent showcase of what it can look like to fall in with a cult even with no religious background. And how it’s even easier with individuals who have pre-existing mental illnesses/disorders.

We’ve come full circle and I’m very interested to see where his character goes from here.

[mixolya]

ᓚᘏᗢ — golden hours, golden hearts : chapter 023 !

the hum of the airplane was steady, punctuated by the occasional ding of the seatbelt sign and the murmurs of flight attendants catering to the business class passengers. you barely spared them a glance, reclining in your seat as you scrolled through your phone. it had been a long day already and there were still hours to go before touching down in kyoto.

sae, on the other hand, seemed to be thriving in the confined space. he sat next to you, of course, legs crossed comfortably, flipping through a magazine that he clearly had no real interest in. instead, his attention kept drifting to you, and you could feel it.

"you should try sleeping," he commented lazily, turning another page. "wouldn't want you looking like a zombie when you meet my parents."

you exhaled through your nose, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. "i'll be fine," you muttered, still looking at your screen.

he tilted his head slightly, an amused smirk playing on his lips. "you say that, but you're so tense. what, nervous about meeting my family?"

"no."

he hummed, unconvinced. "you should be. my mom can be intense."

you finally glanced at him. "you're not helping."

"i'm not trying to." his smirk widened, and he leaned closer, voice dropping slightly. "but she'll love you. probably more than she loves me."

that made you snort. "not possible."

"you think?" he tilted his head, gaze flickering over your expression. "guess we'll find out soon enough."

you rolled your eyes, returning your focus to your phone, though your fingers had stopped scrolling. he was enjoying this way too much.

the rest of the flight passed in a mix of light conversation - mostly him teasing, mostly you trying to ignore it - and brief stretches of silence. when the announcement for landing came on, you sighed in relief. sae merely stretched, unaffected as always.

-

the car ride to the itoshi household was quiet, save for the occasional hum of the engine and the rhythmic tapping of sae's fingers against his phone screen. you gazed out the window, watching the neon lights of kyoto blur past, the streets still alive despite the late hour. the reality of the situation was beginning to settle in - you were about to meet sae's parents, step into his world in a way you hadn't before. and for some reason, that made your stomach twist.

"you're fidgeting."

you turned to look at sae, who was now watching you with that same expression he always wore. his voice was casual, but there was amusement behind it, like he knew something you didn't.

"i'm not."

his eyes flickered to your hands, where your fingers were absentmindedly drumming against your thigh. you quickly stilled them, looking away.

he huffed a quiet laugh. "just don't embarrass yourself."

you shot him a glare. "if anyone's going to be embarrassing, it's you."

he smirked but said nothing, and the rest of the drive continued in silence.

when the car finally pulled up to the house, your breath hitched for just a second. it was exactly what you expected from the itoshi's - modern, sleek and far too perfect. the type of place that looked like it belonged in an old japanese movie. before you could fully process it, the front door swung open, revealing a woman with strikingly familiar features.

"there you are," she said warmly, stepping forward. her eyes, sharp but kind, landed on sae first as she pulled him into a brief hug. he accepted it, muttering a quiet, "hey, mom."

then, her gaze shifted to you, her smile widening. "oh, sae, you didn't tell me you were dating our it girl of the century."

you nearly choked on air and quickly straightened, offering a polite bow.

sae, completely unbothered, sighed. "mom."

she ignored him, her eyes twinkling as she took your hands in hers, giving them a gentle squeeze. "i've seen you everywhere! magazines, billboards, interviews - goodness, it feels like a fever dream."

you let out a nervous laugh. "ah.. i wouldn't say everywhere."

"nonsense," she said, beaming. "you're practically a household name! i would've prepared a proper welcome if i had known sooner."

sae ran a hand down his face. "she's not royalty, mom."

"she might as well be," his mom quipped, giving him a pointed look before turning her attention back to you. "now, tell me, how did my son manage to win you over? he's not exactly known for his charm."

you opened your mouth, unsure of what to say, but sae smoothly cut in. "she hasn't been won over."

she gasped, hand flying to her chest in exaggerated horror. "sae! you mean to tell me you're making this poor girl suffer?"

you were starting to like her more than sae.

he, on the other hand, was clearly regretting all of his life choices. "can we go inside now?"

she laughed, finally stepping aside. "yes, yes, of couse. but y/n, dear, you'll have to tell me all about how you put up with him over tea."

as you followed her inside, sae leaned in just slightly, his voice low.

"told you, she likes you more than me already," he muttered.

you smirked. "everyone likes me."

sae let out a soft scoff while you stepped further inside, taking in his home.

the interior was as pristine as you expected - minimalist, modern, yet with a warmth that made it feel lived in. framed photographs lined the walls, a mix of family pictures and some of sae and rin from their younger years. your gaze lingered for a second too long on a particular one - sae, probably in middle school, holding a trophy with a rare, genuine smile.

"you can stare later," he murmured next to you, voice low enough for only you to hear.

you blinked and turned away. "i wasn't staring."

he hummed knowingly but didn't push further as his mother led you into the living room. a neatly set table with an elegant tea set awaited, steam curling softly from freshly poured cups.

she gestured for you to sit, settling gracefully across from you. "i hope you don't mind, but i prepared some wagashi as well."

"oh, not at all," you said, eyeing the delicate sweets on the tray.

sae took the seat next to you, leaning back lazily. "she won't say it, but she loves sweets."

you shot him a glare. "and you don't?"

"i have self-control."

his mother chuckled, watching the exchange with quiet amusement before taing a sip of her tea. "you two bicker like an old married couple."

you nearly choked. "we do not."

sae, the traitor, only took a sip of his tea like he hadn't just heard his mother say something completely absurd.

"i think it's cute," she mused, ignoring your reaction. then, with a fond sigh, she added, "you remind me of how my husband and i used to be when we were younger."

you weren't sure what to say to that, so you simply smiled.

sae nudged your knee under the table, the corner of his lips twitching. "you're blushing."

"i am not," you shot back, setting your cup down with a little more force than necessary.

sae's mother laughed, clearly enjoying herself, before clapping her hands together as if just remembering something. "ah, before i forget - y/n, i hope you don't mind, but sae's cousin is staying in the guest room, so you'll have to stay in sae's room."

silence.

you blinked. slowly.

"...oh."

sae, of course, remained completely unfazed.

she smiled innocently. "i hope that's alright?"

it wasn't like you could say no.

"of course," you replied, forcing a polite smile, though you could already feel sae's gaze on you - smug, amused, and entirely too entertained by your discomfort.

"great!" she beamed, already moving on. "now, let's eat. you must be exhausted from the flight."

great.

sleeping in the same room with sae.

why did you agree to this fake relationship?

chapter 022 > here > chapter 024

taglist is open ! <3

back to golden hours, golden hearts

a/n: im having too much fun w this LOL

taglist: @darling-dearesttt @saeslove @yuukiririix @sof888a @beepbopzlorp @luvrrin @narcjsistx @catukin @megumismyhusband @morgyyyyyyy @levihanmyotp @kaz-0e @nensi @vaelils @loverryxx @kunascutie @swagkittybear @alexiaray @kaidostwin @pookiei-bookie @syarc0re @vayahatesu @yangx2isawhore @pinkfqiry @treeguzzler @shumeow-h @modxbea @90s-belladonna @rory-cakes @sapph1r3x @yuiearyi @pctterheadd @thecallofmedusa @whisperofae @belovedfedya @anqelkoz @yukari1k @dontmindtheevie @pookalicious-hq @pan-kojiwa @spookysoowpprince @mivqko @chuuyalvover @viviinpt @h1sllvr @luvvmae @renchai @yourlocaleffy @x3nafix @saeglazer

© mixolya 2025. do not copy, remake or edit any of my works.

[garez19]

unsent

yandere streamer x loser reader: [part i]

notes: female reader, not proofread, english is not my first language. have a very lovely day everyone!!! wc: 1.6k

alden, he called himself. he didn’t have lots of viewers, though you remembered some of his clips going viral once or twice. he still seemed content with his lack of fame though, and you could guess he wasn’t expecting to be popular anyways as the games he played were very niche, and did go unnoticed by the mainstream. you, however, liked exploring the pits of the internet, finding weird websites and lurking abandoned forums everyday. being an unemployed loser let you know all about the media. and for some odd reason, your favorite part about this addiction was when you got a notification from his channel. “denonthebeat IS LIVE NOW!” how you liked clicking on it in a heartbeat. how you liked listening to him ramble about his not-so-funny life stories. you couldn’t help but think how similar you two were most of the time—considering your almost identical music taste and the way you laughed at the same things, how his audience kept calling him a socially inept loser that needed a life.

he was the man in your dreams, and it was a tragedy he didn’t know your existence. hell, he probably didn’t even know your nickname, let alone the adoration you had for him. but, there was nothing you could do except being a ghost and watching him interact with a bunch of people who seem to like consuming the sort of content. because deep down, you know him acknowledging you wasn’t going to change much except that he would be familiar with your nickname maybe.

but the point was, your obsession over him wasn’t decreasing. you didn’t seem to grow away from him. and that was the one and only problem as for now —except getting a job and moving out, of course— and there was nothing to do about it. you couldn’t go and tell him you liked his content, or that you would like to get to know him on a deeper level. you were close friends in your world, maybe even closer than close friends. in reality, he was just another loser with a questionable digital footprint.

and when he answered one of the questions on live, your whole world turned into a dystopia, an unfamiliar bitter taste left in your tongue. you were making it too big of a deal, you knew it, yet, this screen was all you had—-a small utopia you have created. it’s full of suffering, but you’ve always considered yourself a girl full of hope. this world, the screen, was too small for you to explore, but he made it seem bigger, full of colors. so when he answered, you didn’t know what to do.

“oh, well, love is confusing, you see.” he shrugged. “there is this girl I’ve had the biggest crush on, and I can say that adoring someone often leaves you confused. but it makes you more ecstatic.” he said. there was a different kind of light in his eyes, or so you assumed. “so ecstatic that you get the urge to create. like, when you cannot get your feelings reciprocated, you just, well, you just go and create something out of that love.” he added. a heavy ache on your chest, the urge to vomit. the urge to tell him to fuck off and report his account for bullying. as if. as if he knew you. as if.

“anyway. if you feel like they show some signs, I’d say go for it. my situation is rather different though.” he smiled. he seemed hurt though, that much was recognizable, even through the screen. “or create something, if it feels too heavy to carry. I mean, I solely make content because of her— since I can’t seem to distract myself from being a sappy loser.” he laughed. hell, this was your favorite part of him, the way he wore his heart on his sleeve often made you admire him. this was what you hate him about the most, he wore his heart on his sleeve.

the comments calling him a loser and making fun of didn’t seem to affect him, as he was reading some of them and sneering.

“what is she like? oh… well, I don’t want you to clip this and upload it on youtube calling me a loverboy, pass.” he said. this could’ve been a fun topic if you weren’t oh-so-fucking in “love” with him. others were having fun though, as they kept spamming questions about it. “why the fuck is everyone so nosy with it?” he laughed. and you agreed. why can’t he just shut up about it and play your favorite game? or watch stupid videos and react to them? this was the first ever time you contemplated leaving the stream. the first ever time you didn’t have fun. “where did I meet her? take a fucking guess pal. over the internet, of course.” he, once again, answered another question. fucking loser, you mumbled, as if your situation was any different. as if you didn’t live on the internet. “we live in the same city though, she’s just too much of a loser to go out,” he added. you frowned. you weren’t going to listen to him ramble about this person any more, so you just closed the tab. you had better things to do anyways, like replaying your favorite game. the one he also seemed to like a lot.

“what the hell?” he cussed out, seeming puzzled. “she fucking left.” he kept clicking on random buttons as the chat went crazy over the whole situation. “dumbass.” he said, clearly annoyed. questions from the followers didn’t seem to stop. “oh my god, of course it’s not her,” he answered the allegations, “I was talking about my sister who was supposed to be a moderator.” he lied quickly. he didn’t even have a sibling to begin with, but he didn’t want you to have any suspicions as he had a very little follower list. “well, that’s all for today anyway,” he got ready to end the stream.

“have a good day, everybody.” click.

is she not having fun anymore? he assumed, his mind running miles. he had planned his schedule very carefully, and he couldn’t watch it go to ruins. not when he calculated every single interaction he could have had with you.

and well, it was true that you “met” on the internet. but that wasn’t the only time you did, nor was it the first time.

he was running out of time, he believed. when the teacher was asking dumb questions to how to get to know someone and pairing students up. “ask your partner how you break the ice.” she said, putting you two up. it wasn’t the way to strike up a conversation, that was for sure, and in an ideal world he wouldn’t have to do that anyway, since these people kept blabbering about their hobbies and stuff he couldn’t care less about. so when he turned his seat so he could talk to you, he wasn’t expecting anything. 5 minutes left.

“well, in my o—“ he was interrupted when you stood up. he looked up at you as you asked for permission to go to the bathroom. 4 minutes left. at least you were also on his side in this battle. well, socially awkward kids were everywhere, no? he knew you weren’t going to come back, realizing you’d been looking at the clock and contemplating leaving. you had squinted your eyes, hand on your chin— you decided to leave.

3 minutes left. he took a peek at his classmates, their awkward glances darting towards each other. the other pair next to him was doing fine. the girl –though she looked wimpy at first– was holding her own, keeping the conversation going and checking in with her partner’s opinion. 2 minutes left.

right then, you came back to the class. ready to pick up your bag and get out of here. you sat down, collecting your stuff. and although you two were on the same side, he still wanted an answer. he was not having fun here, and might as well make it everyone’s –everyone he had to interact with, to be precise– problem.

“what do you do to break the ice?” he asked.

you can’t escape from your fate, you thought to yourself.

“well, try to find hobbies you both share, ask them questions, stuff like that,” you answered, not hesitating to give the most cliché answer. “how about you?” you asked, repeating the question. 1 minute left. “you wanna go grab a coffee?” he offered.

“valid answer.” you replied, thinking it was just another example. you were ready to leave the class, and he couldn’t help but give a quiet chuckle. you weren’t sure what to make of it. “yeah, yours wasn’t exactly ‘valid’ though,” he snickered.

“why not?”

the second he opened his mouth to answer, the bell rang. you didn’t even wait for an answer, and there was an unbreakable ice there, or maybe unmeltable in a sense. but, either way, he was having fun. maybe he was really wasting time in this class, in this school, but maybe, he could make it at least somewhat enjoyable. the following days were as dull since you had been absent for the week. the next week, when the class was finally familiar with each other, you attended the lesson. socially awkward kids everywhere, yet he wasn’t sure if you were shiesty or just didn’t care about the situation. you still didn’t put any effort, that was the only recognizable thing about you. and you didn’t appreciate it when he tried to help you out here and there. you gave out a fake smile, thank you, you muttered, and go on with your simple life.

you reminded him of himself, the only difference being you didn’t try to make fun of socially awkward kids. and you weren’t as curious about him as he was about you. your goddamn phone and that one notebook you kept scribbling in made it hard for him to reach out.

good thing he had lots of time to waste.

[red-hibiscus]

THE Lee Taemin held the flag I designed so here's a rant from a shawol of 14 years

I got into SHINee in 2011 when I was 13. They were my first kpop group and to this day they are my favorites. They've always stood out and will never be overtaken no matter how many kpop groups I listen to.

I had just barely missed the last SMtown concert in nyc and I never thought I'd be able to see any SHINee related concert (excluding whatever SuperM was). SM certainly wasn't going to give them a tour. So when Taemin announced a world tour it felt like a dream. When I managed to snag that ticket I was shaking.

I had started making flags for some artists a year and a half ago for onlyoneof's tour. Just as a silly "lmao what I give them a pride flag" then decided "fuck it I'm gonna design an onlyoneof pride flag." Then I did it for Lucy (my 2nd favorite k-music act) for two different cities. It's addicting seeing your creations be so well received by fans and artists alike. It's my little selfish fan moment of something I worked hard on be acknowledged and loved by them with the bonus of making other fans happy.

So of course I had to make Taemin a flag, and when I got the ok, I knew exactly what to do. I wanted to show his progression as an artist. So I had two silhouettes. One from Lucifer and one from Move. Lucifer (my 2nd ever kpop song after Hello) we all know is so influential. The choreo is iconic and it set the stage for more difficult choreo in kpop. The legendary practice video that had people dizzy while they stared at Taemin trying to learn it. I was there too. And Move... I mean come on. Kpop is different post Move. We know how viral Taemin went for move. How everyone was and still is absolutely shocked. The androgynous (relatively slow) difficult and sensual choreo that only Taemin can do. And the music as well!! I've seen several kpop artists try similar styles after that. So Lucifer and Move were the obvious choices.

Seeing people slowly fill up the flag while they signed it at the pre-show party was so fulfilling. All the people whose eyes lit up when they learned the flag was going to be given to him. The anxiety they got when they tried to think of what to write cause there's no going back and it's gonna be given to their idol. All the compliments I got on my design. It brings me so much happiness.

To be honest I was kind of stressed. The actual designing/drawing of the flag wasn't too bad, but getting it approved and the uncertainty that the flag would be brought out for picture time had me going crazy. But they did. He held it. Lee Taemin... Kpop jesus... The idol's idol held my flag. And he was smiling. He loved it. He looked so good. It's like it was destined to be in his hands.

After he got it I was shaking. It actually took a bit for me to process it was actually happening. And then I cried (for the 3rd time that concert except harder this time) all throughout Say Less. Probably gonna get emotional every time I hear that song now. Thanks Taemin.

I don't know what artists do with flags they get. Store them in a closet, toss them away, give them to their company, idk. For now all I know and care about is that it's safely with him and he knows it exists. Maybe he'll read some of the messages. Maybe he'll read the messages on the postcard we gave him and smile when he reads my message. I'll never know. If he's happy, I'm happy.

[swagyalastorwife]

"yandere " lucifer x blue eyes!reader

Author'snotes : hiiiii guysss (^-^)/❤️I hope you like it I decided to transform Lucifer into a yandere I'm sorry if I'm not perfect I hope you like it

⚠️warning ⚠️: mentions of kidnapping, yandere behavior on Lucifer's part and dead mentions and that's it sorry for the spelling mistakes..

Part 1 here !

You were in shock you didn't know what to do anymore, and Lucifer understood very quickly but he wanted you he couldn't stop looking at your eyes, your magnificent eyes, which reminded him of the color of the ocean of the rivers of paradise yes if he could he would kidnap you and take you with him to hell, but he took pity on you and said to you:

" if you don't want it I won't force you to do anything "

you were paralyzed by fear you couldn't even open your mouth

" very well I take your silence as a no, but before I leave know that I will always be there somewhere wherever you are I will be there "

Then he disappeared in the same ray of light that made her appear you sat there on the ground for 1 hour then 2 hours then 3 hours until night fell you didn't know how or why you couldn't even understand what he wanted.

A few days later you managed to resume your rhythm of life going to work coming home going out with your friends but you were still thinking about lucifer and the words he had spoken, and you were right because he couldn't stop thinking about you he thought about you day and night and he always observed you as he said he adores your eyes and can't help but want to contemplate them, but it's not just your eyes that he loves I mean lots of people have blue eyes, he also loves your look, your cheeks, your body, your voice, your lips which make him dream all night he dreams of being able to kiss them

He was jealous of each person who looked at you for too long or of the person who flirting whit you He was falling in love with you yes a strong and crazy love, he loves you more than he loved Lilith there is something in you that drives him crazy, and he wants you to be his and his alone however he could never hurt you he remains a little king with a sensitive heart, he will be content to look at you from afar admiring you and admiring your look your beautiful eyes which are his and his alone. One day when you were coming home from work you decided to stop at a convenience store open 24/7, you bought some junk food to reheat in the microwave and when you left the store a gunshot rang out. then nothing more, it was complete emptiness in your head until you woke up, in a warm place you felt a burning wind caress your skin and screams rang out, where were you? what's going on, these were the questions you were asking yourself until you read the sign

"WELCOME TO HELL"

Were you fucking dead? It didn't take long for Lucifer to notice where you were

"my god where am I?”

“you didn’t read the sign?”

"eh, it's your fault if I'm here, I...I.."

Lucifer put his hand on your shoulders to reassure you but you violently pushed his hand you felt anger and hatred invaded your body and said to him:

"don't touch me! you are a monster"

your words broke his heart he felt tears coming to him but he decided not to show it and he said to you very well:

“I’ll leave you alone but know that my door is wide open”

You decided to leave without saying anything, I can tell you that the little king still hasn't finished with you and that he will do everything for you to fall into his arms

to be continued...

I hope you like it i will do a part 3 ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[rarepairdumpster]

Viktor Doll AU

Inspired by THIS ART

Pairing: Viktor/Silco (Arcane) Rating: M C/W: Canon Divergence, Dub Consent (over being made into a doll), First Meeting Bickering, Jinx being Jinx

Viktor Doll AU, but it backfires because Silco survives the shooting and sees what the fucked up Piltovan scientist did to one of Zaun's own. Silco liberating the doll because he won't have the memory of another one of his people defiled and tarnished by a Piltovan.

And the doll is a doll.

While it's been programmed with a facsimile of Viktor's personality, it doesn't understand the concept of captivity and liberation.

It's a shell of who Viktor was, with none of the ambitions that Viktor had.

Jayce quickly gets bored because he didn't realize that what he really loved about Viktor was his personality and ambition.

Regularly leaves the doll to be on its own while he's working.

The other Zaunites that worked in the lab, look at Jayce like he's the worst kind of monster, and they all quit over what he's done to Viktor's memory 

And that pisses him off.

Jayce sees it as him trying to preserve Viktor. Those Zaunite scumbags just don't get it.

But whatever. He hadn't wanted to hire them anyway.

He only did it because Viktor had made such a fuss.

When Viktor doll asks where the other scientists are and Jayce says they're gone, Viktor just responds with a calm smile and a tip of his head. "I'm sure it's for the best."

None of the anger that should have been there or demands to know why.

And Jayce goes off to be by himself and punches a hole in the wall.

Viktor-doll's existence however sparks a whole new level of interest among hextech sponsors though.

And Jayce soon starts receiving requests for more dolls.

Including some for the same model and Jayce shuts those down immediately

Silco sends Jinx to liberate the doll and steal the related research as a sign that he still trusts her implicitly, even after the shooting, and Jinx is anxious about fucking up, but that memory of realizing that she'd shot her dad by accident keeps her stable somehow, in a way that accidentally killing Vander and the others hadn't. 

Jinx is the one that one that fixes Viktor's programming, makes him more like himself.

And then she sets fire to the research because that shit's fucked up.

Jinx pulls what she can from the journals she found in the lab. She also broke into his old room to find his personal journals.

Jayce was too focused on just having Viktor back to even consider what makes Viktor him.

Newly reprogrammed Viktor-doll looking down at his metal hands and sounds so lost and confused as he says "What....what happened to me?" 

He still has a memory recall of his time with Jayce, after being activated, but it feels distant. Strange. Like a hazy dream.

And Jinx pushes her goggles up on her forehead and answers cheerfully, "I fixed you, silly."

Viktor looks down and covers his crotch up even though there's nothing there. 

"Some clothes or a sheet would be nice"

Silco's coat is there.

Jinx hadn't thought to ask for it.

But he'd thought to leave it.

And Jinx hands it to Viktor,

Viktor wraps it around his waist and attempts to stand, but he has trouble with his right leg. (He discussed it in his journals and so the program implemented it)

Viktor looks down at his leg.

Frowns.

Viktor looks around Jinx's work space, notices the outrageous colour schemes, and feels a jolt of recognition.

"You! You robbed from me!"

Jinx curses. "Shit I thought I took that part out of the feed"

Viktor scowls, starts looking for his cane automatically, but it isn't there. 

because the cane was buried with the real Viktor

"I need to go home," Viktor blurts. "I need to find Jayce."

"Oh, you don't want that guy," Jinx huffs, nose scrunching. "He's a freak. He's the one that did this."

Jinx gestures to pretty much all of him.

Viktor finally takes the time to look at himself and notices the hexgem enclosed in the center of his chest.

Oh, Jayce what have you done

He turns back to Jinx. "You fixed me as you say? Do you have notes?"

Jinx shoves a disorganized pile of papers at him scribbled with a mix of crayon, marker, and colored pencil.

Viktor looks so....disgruntled about what was used to write the notes, Jinx almost starts laughing.

"Silco has your journals" Jinx pouts a little, using air quotes to emphasize. "Said you wouldn't 'appreciate' my 'creative additions'."

Viktor hums and glances at her.

"He might be right. You're a genius, but our aims are polar opposites."

"HAH!" Jinx shouted, jumping from her chair. "You called me a genius! No take-backsiessss~"

She pressed a button on her desk that made an alarm noise. The label above had a stylized "S" and several hearts around it. Viktor assumed it must be a way for her to contact Silco.

Silco arrives almost in a hurry, coming down the steps and crossing the narrow "bridge" into the lab.

"Ah, you're awake," Silco says, running a hand though his hair as he gets closer. "Viktor, correct?" He holds out his other hand in greeting, a little startled at the strong grip from the automaton.

Strong and warm.

The Arcane's power is literally thrumming through him.

"I suppose that is the closest to who or what I am," Viktor explains.

"I am sorry we never met earlier," Silco says. "I always admired your work."

"So, you had her steal from me," Viktor muses, "instead of approaching me for a discussion. Interesting method for demonstrating admiration." 

Silco shoots a look at Jinx.

"No. She broke into the lab on her own the first time. But I am the one who sent her to rescue you."

"Also bold of you to assume that your partner," Silco spat the word like a bad taste, "would even allow me to have an audience with you."

Viktor opens his mouth to defend Jayce reflexively, but falters. Remembers the bridge. The barricade. Being locked out of Piltover and having to wait to have his identity "confirmed" by Councilman Talis. How Jayce had dehumanised and vilified Zaunites to his face.

Looks down at is hand.

At what Jayce did to him.

Viktor pulls his hand back and remembers the coat around his waist. "Does this rescue happen to include clothing?"

"Of course." Silco heads back in the direction he'd come from and beckons "We take care of our own. Come and we'll get you sorted."

Viktor went to take a step forward but collapsed against the railing. 

"Ah, a cane too, if possible," Viktor added, annoyed.

Silco looks at Jinx, clearly annoyed and expectant. 

Jinx huffs and rolls her eyes before hopping up onto the work-table. 

"The journals said his leg was fucked, so I worked that into the programming. You said to put him back the way he was!"

Arch + Woods

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: Alone With You

The weight of the day settled into your shoulders as you sank into the couch, exhaling deeply. The soft hum of the baby monitor and the distant sound of cartoons still playing in the girls’ room served as a constant reminder that your job as "Mommy" was never really done. You adored your children—every sticky-fingered hug, every sweet giggle—but lately, they had been needing you and Marshall more than usual.

It had been two weeks since you and your husband had even had a moment alone that wasn’t interrupted by cries for a drink of water, a nightmare, or an inexplicable need to tell you about the dream they just had ten minutes after they’d gone to bed. You missed him—missed the way he held you when it was just the two of you, the quiet intimacy of being wrapped in his arms, his lips tracing soft patterns on your skin.

Marshall plopped down beside you with a groan, rubbing a hand over his face. “Damn. I love ‘em, but these girls are ruthless,” he muttered, stretching an arm over the back of the couch and pulling you into him. His scent—familiar and warm—filled your senses, and you melted against him with a sigh.

“They’re little sleep thieves,” you agreed, resting your head on his shoulder. “I swear, I haven’t had an uninterrupted shower in days.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Tell me about it. I tried sneakin’ into the kitchen for a snack earlier, and Hailie caught me like I was stealin’ from my own fridge.”

You laughed, but there was an edge of exhaustion to it. You tilted your head up to look at him, eyes scanning his tired expression. “Marsh,” you murmured, fingers playing with the fabric of his hoodie. “I miss you.”

His blue eyes softened instantly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “I miss you too, baby.” He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, sending a shiver down your spine. It had been too long since you felt his full attention on you like this.

You deepened the kiss, threading your fingers through his hair as his grip on your waist tightened. The heat between you grew, a hunger that had been building for weeks finally threatening to take over. His hands slid beneath the hem of your shirt, fingers trailing over your skin—

“Mommy? Daddy?”

You both froze. Your forehead dropped against his chest, and you let out a groan of frustration. Marshall’s arms went slack around you, his head falling back against the couch as he closed his eyes in pure defeat.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath before forcing a patient, fatherly voice. “Yeah, baby? What’s wrong?”

The tiny voice came from the hallway, hesitant but insistent. “I think there’s a monster in my closet.”

You bit back a scream of frustration and sat up, rubbing your hands over your face. Marshall let out a low chuckle, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I got this one,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before standing.

You watched as he disappeared down the hall, heard him murmur reassurances, and then a moment later, the creak of a closet door opening. He was a damn good dad, and you loved him for it. But you also really wanted to jump his bones.

By the time he returned, you were lying back against the couch, eyes shut, too exhausted to even move. He collapsed beside you with a huff. “Alright, closet’s monster-free,” he reported. “Tucked her back in, even did a quick rap about bravery.”

You cracked an eye open. “You rapped?”

He smirked, leaning in close. “A whole freestyle about how dope and fearless she is.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

He trailed his fingers along your arm, voice turning lower, more serious. “Come to bed?”

You hesitated, eyes flickering toward the baby monitor, listening for any signs of another impending interruption. He tilted your chin up, eyes locking onto yours. “Let’s try,” he said, a small, hopeful smirk tugging at his lips. “Worst case, we get five minutes.”

Your heart squeezed at the way he was still trying, still craving you just as much as you craved him. “Okay,” you whispered.

He stood, offering you his hand, and as you let him pull you up, you couldn’t help but hope that for just one night, your babies would stay asleep long enough for you to finally remind your husband just how much you missed him.

Back in your bedroom, the second your lips met again, the hunger was undeniable. His hands slid under your shirt, pushing it up and over your head before pulling his own hoodie off. Your hands roamed his bare chest, fingers tracing the defined lines of his muscles as he kissed you harder, pressing you against the mattress. Just as you started working at the waistband of his sweatpants—

Knock, knock.

A tiny voice came from the other side of the door. “Mommy? Daddy?”

Marshall’s forehead dropped to your shoulder, and you groaned. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“What is it, baby?” Marshall called out, voice strained with exasperation.

“I heard a scary noise,” she whimpered. “Can I sleep with you?”

You exhaled sharply, rolling to your side as Marshall flopped onto his back, covering his face with his hands. After a moment, he muttered, “Yeah, come on in.”

The door creaked open, and your youngest climbed into bed between you, nestling under the covers. Marshall shot you an apologetic look over her little head and mouthed, Tomorrow?

You sighed, offering him a small, tired smile. “Tomorrow,” you agreed. Because no matter how much you missed him, you’d always be “Mommy” first.

Hours later, a sharp little foot jabbed into Marshall’s stomach, jolting him awake. He grunted, shifting slightly, and then noticed you were awake too, staring at the ceiling with a sigh.

His hand found yours under the blanket. “Guest room?” he whispered.

You nodded, careful not to wake your sleeping daughter as you both slipped out of bed. Sneaking down the hall, you finally had a moment alone, wrapped up in each other like you had been craving for weeks.

When you returned to your room, breathless and satisfied, you stopped short in the doorway. Somehow, all three girls were now sprawled out across the bed, limbs tangled together, leaving no room for either of you.

Marshall exhaled dramatically. “Man, we don’t stand a chance.”

You stifled a laugh, grabbing his hand and pulling him back toward the guest room. “Looks like this is our bed now.”

He smirked, tugging you back into his arms. “Fine by me—so long as we don’t get another little visitor.”

[mwahkazu]

┊ NEW NOTIFICATION ! ﹙📩﹚your receipt for the ‘SWEET DREAMS’ World Tour has been successfully delivered. we look forward to seeing you at our show ᯓ★

lovesick .ᐟ

a lyney x fem! reader smau. ╱ [ SEASON 01 ]

SYNOPSIS. lyney and lynette, the tantalizing duo that have taken the music industry by storm: dominating the charts, selling out shows, enrapturing the hearts of many, you name it. but as the days blend into weeks, all filled with the cheers of many, back to back shows, and endless travels on the road, lyney can’t help but wonder what his life would be like if he never chased the fame he has now — he wonders if his first love still thinks about him the way he does with her.

ADDITIONAL TAGS. idol x underground musician, lovers turned enemies/strangers, one-sided love, est. relationship w/ xiao, slow burn, angst, slightly cracked humor, possible suggestive content ( tbd ), slow updates – this smau was inspired by the album ‘internet hometown hero’ by mico !

✎ WRITER’S NOTE. once upon a time this smau existed under an entirely different title and story via an old acc i had ( with this very same user funnily enough ). but now, it has been brought back for a second attempt with a fully revamped story ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ ) i have a few ideas/plans brewing in the back of my head for this smau that i have high hopes for to achieve but those will be discussed further when we get there! for now, enjoy reading the first season of chapters for the series <3

⤷ PROFILES:

internet sensations. | the hometown club.

⤷ CHAPTERS:

₍ ₀₁ ₎♡ just another one-hit wonder motherf*cker

₍ ₀₂ ₎♡ baby, good luck, have fun

₍ ₀₃ ₎♡ tell me i’m a loser, tell me i’m a fraud

₍ ₀₄ ₎♡ ( oh my god ) thought it was love

₍ ₀₅ ₎♡ homesick

₍ ₀₆ ₎♡ but i’m just a tourist to you

₍ ₀₇ ₎♡ i’ll never write another love song

₍ ₀₈ ₎♡ tears in your eyes

ATTENTION! chapter titles are not 100% indicative of the actual chapter story itself.

₍^. .^₎⟆ taglist sign up form -> here

[lookinghalfacorpse]

Do you think Dream would ever try to hide that he had a seizure because maybe he feels like hes burdening them or maybe hes just too anxious about it? If so how would that mix with possessive techza?

big brain prompt.

/dsmp /rp

-----

Dream was pushing a wheelbarrow of hay when he felt the warning signs of a seizure.

Philza called it the "aura" of the seizure-- the numbness, mild twitching, and fuzz that gathered at the edge of his vision before the stronger spasms hit. Dream thought it was a stupid fucking name. "Aura" made it sound like something spiritual and magical rather than what it was: an inconvenience. He just seized yesterday. They usually came in bursts, but this was getting ridiculous.

Techno was loading hay into the sheep's feeder, and Dream was bringing him more. Trying to bring him more. They were already behind on their chores because his body was so uncooperative, and the thought of causing even more trouble made red rise to his face, even despite the chilly air that bit at him. Techno and Philza made him swear to announce if he ever felt the aura, but...

He abandoned the wheelbarrow and dragged his body to the goat pen, where the wall was just tall enough to hide him when he dropped to the floor. His thigh muscles twitched and he couldn't feel his fingers beneath his gloves. If he could just withstand the worst of it, he could go back to the wheelbarrow and pretend nothing happened. He would not be an inconvenience again.

His left elbow twitched backwards and hit the wall with a thud. He moved away from it a few inches. With any luck, Techno wouldn't notice the wheelbarrow standing alone in the middle of the barn.

The spasms spread to his left shoulder, and it tensed until he could hardly handle the pain, his arm straightening against his will--

"Dream?" he heard Techno say--

and when he next knew it, he was in the cabin, stripped of his jacket and gloves, but still comfortingly warm.

"-- there." Phil's voice became clearer and less muffled. As his eyes focused, Dream could make out the worried expression on his face. He felt a towel rub at his chin, whipping away a trail of spit. "There you are. You're alright, love, relax."

Dream managed a pained grunt. His whole body ached. He felt he might drop from exhaustion before he realized he was already laying down, on the floor of the living room with the fireplace nearby. The light from the flame flickered at the side of his vision, and he felt he might vomit.

"You're okay, you're okay. That might've been the worst one yet, mate."

Dream realized, distantly, that he was grabbing the edge of Phil's sleeve. He was usually conscious during seizures-- the gap in his memory was frightening.

Techno came into focus as he knelt by Phil's side, holding something in his hands. Another towel, maybe, or a blanket. "He was hidin' from me, Phil."

"What?"

With a pang of guilt, Dream met Phil's eyes, hoping his expression conveyed his apology even if he couldn't find his voice.

"He was hidin' behind the goat pen. He said he'd get more hay and he just left the wheelbarrow and hid."

Phil had something akin to legitimate fear on his face. His brows were furrowed, his skin paled. He searched Dream's face for several long moments before pulling him into a tight embrace.

"Why wouldn't you tell us?"

When the embrace tightened, Dream realized that Techno also wrapped his arms around the two of them, his size making it a simple task.

"I-- I thought--" He scanned his half-scrambled thoughts for an excuse. A lie. Anything that might be acceptable. He found nothing. "We were already behind--"

Offended, both Techno and Phil spoke at the same time. Phil said something like "We have all the time in the world," while Techno, frustration clear in his voice, said "Dude, the sheep can wait! It's not worth it!"

Phil pulled away and looked Dream in the face, a newfound determination on his face. "You were supposed to tell us if you felt it start."

"I know," Dream said.

Phil sighed. Wiped a strand of hair out of Dream's face. "Alright. If I can't trust you to alert us, you'll be spending your nights with one of us. Or both of us. No more sleeping alone-- we can't risk it. Am I clear?"

Techno nodded in firm agreement with his partner. Dream nodded in turn, knowing better than to fight their decision.

---

The guest room of the cabins, despite holding most of Dream's belongings, was empty at night. They no longer lit candles, no longer kept the door closed so it would heat faster, and no longer bothered washing the sheets. It was never occupied, after all. Dream spent his nights in either Techno or Philza's bed-- usually both of them-- pressed against the warm skin of an immortal who would wake at the slightest thrashing and sacrifice anything to keep him safe. Including, it seemed, Dream's own privacy.

He would admit that the warmth of extra bodies was comfortable.

[judamars]

So I’m probably not that smart but I did take both psychology classes and sociology classes in college and they were a pretty big part of my time there.

I think in this particular situation, Gihun was the victim of what is called Operant Conditioning, which is the type of conditioning where a voluntary behavior is associated with a consequence.

By the time Gihun had reached Ilnam on his deathbed to confront him, he had already been conditioned by the games to believe that his impulsive desire to help others in need is something that will always be met with consequence. Ilnam kinda feeds into this subconscious thinking as well. You kinda see in both seasons how he still has feelings of guilt and shame, and even traumatic responses, from witnessing the death of others. (Flashback to the work strike (s1), dalgona dream (s2)). Because of his own personality, he is aware that he can make a difference by helping others when he sees they need help. That doesn’t change. But his apprehension when something goes gravely wrong as a result of such gets worse as the show progresses.

My theory is that the reason Ilnam and the Frontman actively use operant conditioning on him specifically is not because they don’t want him to stop helping people, they want him to stop helping THEIR people. The ones who join the games. The frontman has VIPs to entertain in a messed up capitalist system, and he knows that Gihun will stop at nothing to find him and attempt to put an end to it.

I also want to mention how Gihun had had three years since he left the games the first time to find them. But because he didn’t take that time to thoroughly process his trauma and to instead obsess over the source of it, he then became subject to the brunt of what PTSD/CPTSD can do to people, especially men. Specifically, i noticed symptoms such as intrusive thoughts, anxiety, feelings of guilt and shame, and hyper vigilance. But im sure there’s more.

Now just as a PTSD survivor and someone who knows other people who suffer from the same thing, a common thing that happens with the disorder (if it’s not already known) is increased empathy.

PTSD survivors are more likely to show ten times the amount of empathy. That is both proven in a few studies provided by google, and is also kinda common sense. Studies were mostly done on adults with childhood trauma, however I still think it could apply to both Gihun’s games experience and his past. And sure, a PTSD survivor may also experience impaired empathy after trauma, but Gihun is definitely portrayed as showing increased empathy. Helping people win the red light green light game by yelling out tips, helping that eliminated player across the finish line, those are all definite signs of increased empathy. As for seeing his best friend die, it does leave the question of whether that will either diminish this level of empathy or increase it. I do hope season 3 sheds some light on that, as the initial reaction cannot really tell you either way what his emotions will compel him to do in response.

One more thing I will mention about Gihun’s trauma, because I do think it’s interesting how he didn’t adhere to his own morals after the first set of games were over. I think he definitely saw the opportunity of confronting Ilnam and playing Russian roulette with the recruiter as ways to relive his trauma and somehow find a way to cope in those moments, specifically with the adrenaline rush of potentially putting a bullet in his head during roulette.

I could go WAAAAYYYYY more in depth about this but I feel like I’ve made this way too long already. I just definitely wanted to share this because I felt I could contribute.

All of my blabbing boils down to this, Gihun is a survivor of a deadly, capitalistic system that has put him through such intense trauma, that hasn’t really made him a different person per se but has just made his emotions and his impulses much more intense.

Also, here are some sources I reviewed, just to provide more information

someone smarter than me who knows more abt psychology needs to write abt gi-hun and the learned helplessness that the games instilled in him. i find the last episode of s1 so interesting bc i KNOW that pre-games gi-hun would've gone down to the street and helped out that homeless guy himself. bc pre-games gi-hun, despite his many flaws, was proactive and impulsive and deeply caring towards others. but post-games gi-hun just stays put and waits for someone else to do help the guy. bc the games taught him that even when he tries to help people, he won't succeed. and that trying to help people never works. i don't think it's something he would consciously believe but it got ingrained in him on a subconscious level.

i think by s2 he's started to find his will and strength to help others again, as evidenced by him trying so hard to end the games and by him helping that one eliminated player in red light green light. but i'm worried that him standing up and starting a rebellion only to watch his best friend die is gonna put him right back in that mindset of believing that he can't (and shouldn't) do anything or help anyone.

i also think it's so interesting how even though he has such a distaste for the games, he still mostly follows the rules. even the rebellion itself could be seen as part of the game. but i'm mostly thinking about how he could have saved that homeless man, or how he could have refused to play russian roulette with the recruiter, but he didn't. he thinks he proved il-nam wrong, but in a way he just proved him right by standing so high above that man on the verge of death, literally betting on whether he'd live or not while doing nothing to help him. he was a vip in that moment and he didn't even realise it

[seungkwan-s]

i'm switching shinee bias for the first time in like 13 years i can't hide my feelings anymore i'm obsessed with key

[missescalientee]

The past JD ex's who got back together with him club. I feel like they'd have a lot to talk about

Freesia is @zivazivc

[softichill]

The Sounds of Nightmares unofficial transcript

Chapter 3 - The Theater of the Mind

(Once again made with @queen0fm0nsterz!!!)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

-------------

[Click]

[Otto sighs, shifting]

OTTO: Noone vanished last night. 

[Another sigh]

OTTO: As she slept, I was monitoring her ultradian sleep cycle. There was no REM/NREM oscillation; instead, involuntary spasms grew progressively worse. [shift] As I was about to wake Noone, her… body… evanesced. For a split instant- then returned, calm as can be. 

OTTO: [deep breath, loud exhale] Lacking sleep, I can’t be sure I wasn’t hallucinating. Yet the image of her sheets deflating… is imprinted upon my mind. [Sigh] After yesterday’s session, no less, when she claimed to hear this:

[Click, tape plays]

Recording of NOONE: “The faraway drifts near. Tread long, then, sink deep. Two flows from one, and here, is whole again.”

[Click, tape stops]

OTTO: A coincidence? [light clinking of ceramic/glass] Or, synchronicity? …(Scoff) Is that that bloody moth again?! 

[Loud smack, Otto sits back down] 

OTTO: Riddle piles upon riddle, and answers continue to elude. [Tape rewinding] I’ll sift through every word if I must. 

[Intro plays]

[Click]

[Loud clicking and clacking, electric humming, Otto screwing something in]

OTTO: [Humming drops, returns] It’s clear. Noone’s symptoms go beyond parasomnias. [Continuing to build] Her retellings are too detailed, vocabulary too advanced, as if derived from the oneiric itself. 

[Humming raises in pitch, clicking] 

OTTO: However, what I find impossible to believe is that Noone’s seen who you saw, Cici. [Chair creaks, clattering] If two people, without any contact, shared the exact same observation, is it proof of transpersonal dreaming?

[Otto’s building continues]

OTTO: But such implies concurrence! And these dreams are years apart! Then… no. [buzzing picks up] I cannot be taken to metaphysical backwaters. Sounding like my old professor. [building] I’ve remained balanced over the years by clinging to the notion that my recollection of what happened years ago was wrong. [click, humming gets loud again] But now, those memories are coming home to roost. 

[Clicks, electronic humming, building stops]

OTTO: [Shift] Before I began at the CPI I promised to finish this apparatus. I let it fall away, convinced that attempting it was fool’s work. Now struggling to put myself in her shoes, well. Fool me twice. 

[Humming gets louder, buzzes out completely as it shocks Otto and he lets out an “Oh!”]

[A small pained noise from Otto before he starts to put the apparatus away]

[Door opens]

OTTO: (Gasp) Noone! [Scoff, he walks away from the recorder] You’re meant to wait outside. 

NOONE: (Far away) What are you working on?-

[Audio cuts]

[Click, blank noise]

[Audio starts again]

OTTO: We’ve come to know each other better over the past weeks, haven’t we?

NOONE: Because we’re friends! That’s why. And, friends tell each other things. 

OTTO: Friends. That’s right. One of the absolutes I’ve come to realize is that, the more time you spend with someone, the harder it becomes to hide who you really are. The only exception to this rule is with the company of oneself- we willfully hide what we’d rather not face. Like, the Candleman you mentioned seeing, under hypnosis. 

NOONE: I don’t like that. 

OTTO: What?

NOONE: Hiding things from myself. 

OTTO: Nobody likes it. That’s why it’s important to reveal your inner face. “Depth analysis”, we call it. And so, I’d like you to think of this session as a dialogue with your unconscious mind- you are asking the questions, not me. 

NOONE: …Asking myself questions?

OTTO: I’ll help! But, as you go, I’d like you to try. So! This… Candleman. Did you see him again?

NOONE: I-I did. 

OTTO: And what was this meeting like?

NOONE: …He was much clearer. Not just him, everything about it. My nightmare. 

OTTO: Elaborate, please. Was it worse? More vivid?

NOONE: What’s it like- Uhm… as if I’m watching a film, that I’m also the star of. And when I woke… it was here, in the Coppy, that felt more like the dream. 

OTTO: Hm, more palpable. The Candleman-

NOONE: I can’t talk about him without the rest. …If this is an interview with myself, might I begin where I want?

OTTO: Of course! Let your imagination run. But don’t be afraid to interact with the dream. This is an important step in our process- the dialogue. Bring together the divided parts of yourself. 

NOONE: …The mirror. 

OTTO: Pardon?

NOONE: The one off your shelf. If I’m meant to speak to myself, well…

OTTO: [Pause] …Patients aren’t meant to have mirrors, but, here you are, my bright girl. 

[Otto gives her the mirror]

OTTO: Begin as you please. 

[Pause]

NOONE, Narrating: …In the dark… a hand let go of mine. 

[Slip noise, Dream!Noone gasps. Dream ambience begins.] 

NOONE: Opening my eyes, I lay on hot concrete, staring up at a sky with- no sun. And… before me was, endless grey, broken by- yellow lines of paint, all the way to the horizon!

NOONE: Standing, in that carpark, I heard a silence. So silent, my own heartbeat was a marching drum in comparison. …It was followed by… a loneliness, so lonely, I could hardly bear it. I had to turn away. 

[Dream!Noone walking on gravel]

NOONE: Behind me, I was glad to see a building! A shopping mall, so large I- I felt half my normal size. Its doors opened, [sliding gravel] and I ran to them. 

[running footsteps, transition from gravel to tile. Doors close behind Dream!Noone.]

NOONE: Inside the promenade, [lights click on] the lights flicked on, one by one, greeting me as the PA speakers came alive with music. 

[Tinny, slightly off-sounding mall music]

NOONE: It had been ages since I’d visited a shopping center. I didn’t know where to start!

OTTO: You saw no need to find an exit right away?

NOONE: I felt like I was in good hands. But many shops were closed, though. There were no doors, and… no displays in the windows. Or, there must have been a private entrance, because- I could see shadows beyond the glass. 

NOONE: …A-after passing by several shops this way, I grew disappointed, but that’s when… a cowboy’s voice came over the speaker. 

COWBOY, slightly overlapped with Noone: “Sale at Jujube’s Toys! Dolls, games, puzzles, and more! Ground floor by the fountain!”

NOONE: I could see that fountain in front of me! And on the other side, was… a bright green storefront, with bubbles floating out the entrance. 

[Dream!Noone walking over, doors hiss as they open. Different tinny music.]

NOONE: Shelves and- shelves of wonders lined the shop! The toys on the first shelf were very old, but… deeper shelves held the same toys I had back home, and deeper ones held exactly those I’d wish for, even Little Lotty Potty! But… these Lotties had black eyes, not blue. And their skin was… yellow, like autumn leaves. 

NOONE: The shop owner wasn’t present, so… I grabbed one and began playing on the carpet. 

[Dream!Noone humming Six’s Theme. Doll makes automated noises.]

NOONE: But, it didn’t take long for me to grow… bored. That was the first time I… I felt too old for dolls. 

OTTO: (distant-sounding) Maturity is natural as you approach adolescence. The brain loses interest in things once held dear. 

NOONE: The idea of growing up made me sad. And as if reacting… Lotty’s dress became wet. The doll was doing as its name said, but… [doll chattering] the liquid was- dark and thick. I put her down to find something else. But the choices were almost too many! Towering shelves extending deep in- the gloom of the impossibly long shop!

NOONE: I settled on the games section, but, most were meant for two. Suddenly, a staticky whisper said,

Voice, overlapping with NOONE: “I’ll play with you.”

NOONE: I-I thought it was the shopkeeper, but… nobody was around. My eyes fell upon a jewelry-making kit, with a red necklace on the cover. I took the box back to where I left Lotty, only… she was gone. The shelf above, where the other dolls had been, was completely empty too. I wanted to make the jewelry, I really did, but… I felt weird, so… I put it down. Then, the PA crackled, a woman’s voice this time:

Voice, ov. NOONE: “Jujube’s Toys is now closing.”

NOONE: [Lights clicking off] The lights shut off, bubbles stopped… and, the last thing I saw before exiting… [toy train noises] was the train set crashing to a stop. [quiet fake bell ringing, toy engine stops] 

[Dream!Noone walking out of the store]

NOONE: The promenade was empty, still. Each step [steps become echoey] echoed across the walls and floors, which were- pearl white, and had patterns like… veins. 

[steps and music continues]

NOONE: I came to three sets of stairs, side-by-side, leading to the next floor. I chose one, and, reaching to the top, I saw another open shop. Mademoiselle’s… (saying it wrong) bijottery. 

OTTO: (still distant) Bijouterie. But, regardless- you could read this?

NOONE: Yes. The letters were quite big. 

OTTO: …Have you been able to read in your dreams before?

NOONE: I’m not sure. That’s not a question I would ask myself, though, Otto. 

OTTO: Apologies. 

NOONE, Narrating: The glass case in the center of the room… pulled me in. Full of… gold, and silver necklaces. Hanging in the middle, was… an enchanting red pendant. And before you ask, yes, it was just like on the box at the toy store. T-The PA came on again,

Voice, ov. with NOONE: “A free gift to all little girls 10 and under!”

NOONE: Without asking, I put the necklace on, glowing, like a ruby teardrop. With my gift, I set to leave, but… someone must’ve left the speaker on because… I heard arguing. 

NOONE: (overlapping) “Don’t overdo it!” Said a first voice, followed by a second, (overlapping) “One more prize can’t hurt!”

[something being set down, wheels across tile, whoosh]

NOONE: From the back room, a rack of dresses rolled out. All, exactly my size.

[Dream!Noone looking through the dresses]

NOONE: It’d been ages since I’d been allowed to pick out my own dress. The telly people chose them for me. These ones were very pretty, with lace and, and bows and stitching but, one… it… it was the plaid dress I wore the day I arrived at the Coppy. How could my dress be here? [lowering pitch of voice, asking questions to herself] Your real life doesn’t have to mix into your dreams Noone, why now? 

OTTO, interrupting narration: (astonished) Pardon?

NOONE: (giggling) I’m asking myself questions. Well, the only explanation is that they could see inside my head.

OTTO: I’m not sure that’s logical.

NOONE: Let me finish! Please. You’ll see.

NOONE, narrating: Back out on the promenade, the shop gates began to slam shut. [Gates slamming] I was worried the mall was closing, but on the floor above, a set of spinning bright lights came on [Lights turn on]. The music stopped and, the PA crackled with a sing-songy voice, 

Voice, ov. with NOONE: [music] “Showtime’s patrons! Our daily motion picture will begin shortly. Hot popcorn’s popping and the seats await in the playhouse!” 

NOONE: [Lights shutting off] The rest of the mall went dark, making the lights more enticing to follow. 

[Dream!Noone walks across the mall]

NOONE: The lobby was- red from floor to ceiling. Buckets of popcorn overflowed on the concession stand. I grabbed one, and hurried to push open the huge golden doors leading into the theater.  

[Running steps, doors creak. Slightly off organ music plays.] 

NOONE: The velvet seats went for rows and rows, full of people. A spotlight hit the stage, illuminating an organ, but… there was no organ player. Only tall curtains swaying in some breeze. I tiptoed down the aisle, and sat centered with the screen. The chair seemed to hug me, and the room fell dark [crunching] as the first buttery bit hit my tongue. 

[Music stops playing, sounds of projector booting up]

NOONE: Without adverts or introduction, the film began. Images of… trees on fire and… white hooves galloping. I recognized the picture instantly because I’ve seen it a hundred times. “The Healing Horn”. [Movie plays] Only the scenes were out of order, and the unicorn… her horn was misshapen, like… a rotten tree branch. The evil prince’s face, too, was… was wrong. 

NOONE: Feeling out of place I – I looked around. The audience, I… I realized, was not people but… mannequins. 

NOONE: All of a sudden, a familiar scent entered the dream. Ocean. I was no longer alone. The dusty projector light made it difficult to suss, but a few seats over… was the Candleman. His eyes and mouth were… deep black pits inside a mess like a wet gunny sack, sagging down the floor. Without turning, he spoke. 

[Growing noise stops]

OTTO, interrupting abruptly: He – what?! [Shifting] What did he say? 

NOONE: [Sighing] It was like a – a voice underwater. The words could hardly escape the folds of skin. He repeated them to me. 

NOONE as the FERRYMAN, glitching: “The faraway drifts near. Tread long, then sink deep. Two flows from one, and here, is whole again.”

OTTO: And then? [shifting in the chair] What else? 

NOONE, as the FERRYMAN: “Here. Here. Here.”

NOONE: He just repeated over and over.

OTTO: There must be more! Try, try! Interact with the dream!

NOONE: There was no more!

OTTO: (raising his voice) Ask who he is, ask what he wants!

NOONE: (raising her voice) It doesn’t work that way!

OTTO: You were right there! Don’t tell me you did nothing?! Not a damn thing!

NOONE: Stop!

OTTO: [farther away] I’m beginning to doubt you’ve seen this Candleman! [Noone struggling] Perhaps you’ve invented the whole story! 

NOONE: Please, stop- my head!

[Otto hisses (gets hit?), sounds of something being knocked over, Noone runs out of the room.] 

[Otto huffs and stops the tape]

[Click. Blank noise. Another click]

[Various shifting noises. Silence. Door opens and someone walks, then closes it]

OTTO: [far away, stern] What are you doing? With the mirror. [Steps] You’re up to something, but we’ll let it slide. I know girls like you. 

[Shifting]

OTTO: You’re upset with me, aren’t you? [plastic clacking] Here. A pill for your headache. (Sigh) Earlier, that was… awfully…[Otto sits] that- that was not how friends act. Sleep has evaded me too. I’ve grown worried, trying to… please, forgive me. I’d very much like to hear the rest. I won’t interrupt, you have my word. 

[Silence.]

NOONE: … Fine. 

OTTO: So… you were in this theater with him. 

NOONE, narrating: … All kinds of pictured* flashed on the screen, and then he was gone, leaving me alone again. Or so I thought. The projector flickered in the booth. I dashed up, and found the door ajar. A new voice came over the PA, angry. “No patrons in the projection room!” The door was stuck, but I pushed and pushed. The PA boomed, 

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “You must not enter!”

[Crashing, door opens]

NOONE: The projector I saw first was shaped like… a deformed eye. Then, my attention fell to… the mass on the floor. [Slimy sound] A brain? A heart? …No. It’s muscles pumped and pumped, and its tubes ran into the walls. The voice came, both from inside the room and over the PA: 

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Happy day, No One.”

NOONE: It… it knew my real nickname. The ones kids at school scribbled all over my books. How? Because it was in my head. …I asked, “You’re the one who’s been talking? All those voices?”. Then, I saw countless film cans around the room, and understood. It was so alone, it took to imitating. Then it said, 

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Are you going to leave? Like all the others?”

NOONE: I managed a… “Yes”. The thing began pulsing and, upset, it sort of cried out. 

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “So many, they take what they want and go, or get snatched away or worse!” 

NOONE: It paused, then went on, 

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Whatever you desire, it’s yours.”

NOONE: … But I didn’t want anything from it. The PA belted, 

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “The pendant! You wanted that!”

NOONE: The pulsing worsened until another voice came within the first,

VOICE 2, ov. with NOONE: “You’ve driven another away!” [Not overlapping, repeating: “You’ve driven another away!]

NOONE: I felt bad for it. Or them… this place had been warped by pain, and wanted so badly to keep me. Even the walls began throbbing. What could I do?!

[Noise intensifies, Dream!Noone breathes heavily] 

NOONE: I – I ran. Down the stairs, out of the theater. 

[Dream!Noone runs away]

NOONE: On the promenade, the lights were flashing so as to be dizzying. The PA screeched, 

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Everyone needs someone! Don’t leave me alone!”

NOONE: The walls began to cry that dark thick liquid, pooling around me, I looked up. From the floor above, the Candleman stared, pointing at my chest. At the pendant. I flung it down into the liquid, then he reached a hand toward me and – 

[All noise stops]

NOONE: And all faded, as the PA sobbed,

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Don’t take her! Not this one, too…” 

[Narration stops. Silence. Shifting]

OTTO: T-There was um… uh, e-excuse me, a curious phrase. “Warped by pain”. Is that how you feel, sometimes? 

[Silence]

OTTO: Noone? Are you still angry with me? Or… distracted by the mirror? 

NOONE: Behind my ear…  there’s… a sore. 

OTTO: Is that why you wanted the mirror all along?

NOONE: [Hum] It’s like the ones I used to get. I need to see it. 

[Shifting]

OTTO: Nothing’s there. It’s red because you’ve been picking at it. 

NOONE: …I have one more question for myself. Why do I have these dreams? Water sickness, that’s my answer. 

OTTO: Noone. It’s wiped out of your system. There have been no known reinfections. It’s in your mind. 

NOONE: (with increasing distress) What if the cure is the cause? I never had nightmares or headaches before all of this, before going on telly, before – before this! –

OTTO, interrupting: (whispering) No, no, come, come, come, come here, my girl. [Shifting, Otto hugs Noone] You’re not sick. You’re perfectly fine. You’re a perfectly wonderful little girl. This time I will protect you. 

[The mirror falls on the ground and breaks]

NOONE: I’m sorry! I’m sorry, uh, you were squeezing so tight and… it slipped. 

[The mirror shards are picked up. Otto throws them away] 

OTTO: You asked why you dream. The truth? Nobody knows. My studies always assumed they were more than the brain’s way of filtering unconscious thoughts. But I had no answer either. An old professor of mine thought he did. He believed dreams come from an ever shifting plane, a quiddity of consciousness. 

NOONE: Quidd-i-ty…

OTTO: Quiddity. The essence of a thing. In this case, a semiatangible plane outside the mind. 

NOONE: Is it the same as mutual dreams? I don’t understand.

OTTO: My colleagues didn’t either. I’ve flip-flopped over the years, but I figured it was impossible to prove.

NOONE: Will I ever get rid of them, then? Will I ever leave the Coppy?

OTTO: You must understand, you are a unique case. I want to let you go, as soon as – 

NOONE, interrupting: I’m better?

OTTO: (sighing) Yes. As soon as you’re better. [Otto stands, picks something up] Now – 

NOONE: I know, I know. (Lower pitch, mimicking Otto) “Sweets for my sweet”. …Do I have to go back to my room?

[Sounds of plates] 

OTTO: I’ve- got to tidy, [wrappers] and, you reminded me there’s something I need to find. On you go. I’ll come by later. 

[Shift, audio cuts]

[Audio starts]

[Otto looks through papers, and sighs] 

OTTO: Ah, I found it. The paper that stained my professor’s career. Kept it all these years, hoping and dreading there was truth in these words… 

OTTO, reading: “We know now that there is no center to the universe. Previously we thought it was the Sun, before that we thought it was the Earth. Our species always insists that ours is the quintessence of experience. Yet scientific observation proves our folly ad nauseum. If geocentrism took centuries to disprove, the question is not if but when the same will happen to reality itself. That which we are equipped to perceive may not be the only world. Let alone the predominant one.” 

[Click]

[Outro plays]

------------

*This is what she actually says. I have no idea why.

[assexpansion]

AI art by @shygals-slophouse

Caption contains step-sibling relationship, no intimate touching.

After 8 years of education, 2 diplomas, and a successfully defended thesis, a well-deserved summer break awaited Ariana at her parents' new home. They welcomed their short but high-achieving daughter with welcome arms and began the tour of the small mansion. She was enchanted by the luxury abode, especially its pool...

Ariana was feeling burnt-out by the last push of studying, so the family's mansion, where she'd be fed and could relax, was like a dream oasis. Then, she noticed the back of her older step-brother Benji's head under the backyard gazebo. Her dream shattered.

Her parents encouraged her to chat and catch up with him, noting that he was in charge of preparing the new pool, before returning inside to cook a 'Welcome Home' dinner for their favorite child. She approached Benji, who was faced away and on his phone with earbuds in. Typical. He never made any effort to be nice to her. So why should she?

While Ariana was off making their family proud, Benji had taken the low road of slacking and wasting away his life. The last thing she wanted to do was make small talk with him. It was bad enough that they were related.

"Hey, guess what? I'm back! They really went all out with this place, huh?" Ariana said as friendly as possible.

Her eyes flicked to the small screen her brother was looking at. The distinct figure of a huge-tittied, fat-assed blonde woman struggling to sit up from her seat was there, plain as day. Ariana paused in surprise and disgust as she saw the ridiculously proprotioned pornstar from behind Benji's shoulder. The side of his face was expressionless and slightly slackjawed as he watched. Ariana could hear faint, feminine groans from his earbuds with each lurch of her huge body.

"Umm, what the fuck are you watching?" Ariana finally snapped out. "Dude! I'm right behind you!" She cried, stomping her foot down to get his attention.

But Benji made no sign that he had heard her, immersed in the video. He was totally enamored with the triple-extra-large woman on the screen. She was perfect, he thought. Who needed school or money when his purpose in life was clear; to serve a goddess. His own daydream was shattered as Ariana ripped the cords out of his head and began yelling in his ear.

"What the hell do you think you're doing watching that?!"

Her step-brother's face flushed in embarrassment. He raised his hand in admittance, still holding his cellphone with the video playing out loud as he spoke. "Okay, okay. It's off!"

"God, I'm just so heavy!" It played.

"I didn't think anyone was around!" He whined.

"My stupid fat ass can't even get up!"

"I guess.. welcome back, Ariana." He mumbled.

"I'm such a big, brainless butterball!"

Ariana snatched the device and paused the video. She held the phone to her brother's throat like a knife.

"I've only been here for five minutes and you've already found a way to ruin it." She growled. "Don't let me catch you watching this again."

Benji nodded and gingerly took the device out of her hands.

"Now, how about you get the pool ready so I can start my vacation?" She asked, more of a demand than a question.

The siblings split apart with Ariana resting in a different outdoor seat under the gazebo while Benji gathered the pool conditioners. He followed the stone wall to a small shack where he set a plan in motion that, unbeknownst to him, would lead in his death. His earlier cowardice festered into a black anger as he thought about how she had treated him. Ariana was perfect, and he was next to worthless. It was all he had heard throughout his life. The nerve of that stuck-up little brat. I'll show her, he thought.

Ariana watched as her lumpy step-brother pour a half gallon of pool-aid into the calm water. Unbeknownst to her it was mixed with a large scoop of a secret powder that had been stored away for a special occasion. The pink grains had already dissolved in the solution before he mixed it into the aquamarine water. He tested the water with a strip and deemed it safe. Benji hid his knowing smirk, putting on a solemn face as he approached Ariana.

"Hey, so... I'm sorry about that. You're right. That was gross and not cool of me." He said with a sincere tone, pausing for effect before going on.

"I know we fight, but Mom and Dad just want us to be on good terms with each other. I think they want a little bit of you to rub off on me." He said calmly. It was easy to lie when you know you've already won, Benji thought. "Anyways, I was going to have the first dip in the new pool, but... would you like to have the honor?"

Ariana was slightly shocked by this more compassionate side of her step-brother. Maybe he was turning over a new leaf. Huh? And all it took was catching him watching fetish videos. Who knew? She sighed, her eyes to weary to bash her step-brother's morals further.

"What I saw is going to burned into my mind, but... sure. Thanks, Benji." Only gritting her teeth a little as she said it.

He nodded and they awkwardly parted ways. Ariana swiftly changed into the stretchy, blue swimsuit that she often wore while blowing off stress, swimming countless laps in her college's Olympic-sized pool with her trim body. Now, she was stepping down the pool's ladder where her body would forever be changed. Benji sat on the seat nearby, fiddling on his phone as she turned around and dove headfirst into the spiked mixture.

"How's the water?" He asked as Ariana surfaced.

"Not bad. Nicer than I thought." She answered, glancing towards him and landing on his device.

"Are you looking at more of those videos?" Benji rolled his eyes. "No."

"I mean, I guess it's okay that you do. It's weird, but everyone's got different... tastes. Just keep it to your bedroom, okay?"

"Got it, loud and clear." He said in monotone, trying to go along with whatever she said to act casual.

Again, it was easy to take the high road when he knew that she'd have her just deserts. He looked at his phone out of focus, keeping an eye on Ariana treaded water in the shallow end in his peripheral eyesight. He noted that she was not quite tall enough to touch the bottom.

The dissolved powder had begun absorbing into her skin the moment she had entered the pool. As it did, the tiny clumping grains collected throughout her small body, stimulating and reforming Ariana from the inside.

Unprompted, she called out across the quiet backyard. "I don't mean to re-open that can of worms, but can I ask why? Like, why do you like those... types of women?."

The flushed Benji had to consider that. However, it was difficult to when his step-sisters' breasts were beginning to fill her swimsuit. The shiny print was clearly warping, even through the water's ripples. His focus was shot as he stared at the B-cup breasts that she had never had before. Mouth slightly agape, he shook to his senses and tried to remember the question.

"Well, umm... I guess it's a, uh... primal thing. You know, like if a woman is voluptuous and happy, then that means she's cared for... and can care for a family."

Ariana held the edge of the pool to breathe and considered his answer. Below her elegant nose and dark lips, the tops of two bulges began to rise out of the water. Ariana herself seemed to be rising out of the water! She was rising up, up, up growing proportionately larger all around as her enlarging arms showed no stress of pressing herself upwards. Her breasts were now silently pushing into D-cup territory in a matter of seconds as the osmotic powder filled the growing woman up. Benji watched her bust inflated and settled, dropping into massive tits that began to poke out from the sides of her swimsuit as she pushed off and resumed treading more of the water.

With each rotation of her limbs, she was looking taller, larger, bustier, and thicker. Benji needed to talk or do something to stop himself from ogling her.

"Um... yeah! So, going back. Maybe a primacy is where it stems from, but there's more to it. Like, individual preferences." He continued, trying to keep her attention from drifting.

"Fair, but...." She began, stopping to stand now that she could, seemingly too wrapped in the conversation to notice the odd change. Instead, she was still slightly shaking her head in disproval. "But, it's, like, so extreme. That woman measured what? Seven feet high and six-hundred pounds?"

"That's umm... weirdly accurate that you'd say that..." Benji said, watching as Ariana's eyeline rose to met his.

"Well, uh... one second. Let me, um... think. Oh, okay. Well, I bet that woman in the video makes more than you and me both ever will."

"At the cost of her body, though." Ariana cut back in a second, but paused, looking upwards and away from her hype-sized body. "But, after six years in school, the thought of cashing out and going brain-dead isn't half bad now that I think about it."

Benji watched her yearning for the sky as she had yet realized she was growing into it. A nagging righteous voice told him that enough was enough. His step-sister had already changed more than it would need to totally affect her life. The damage is done then, another voice countered. Benji knew their parents had bought this mansion and it's pool on a whim while she was completing her second degree, sure that even if their finances fell apart, the brilliant Ariana would find a high-paying job to support them. Benji rolled his eyes back and saved the thought of her extreme proportions in a business suit. Her chances of being taken seriously when she was taller than a house were slim, Benji selfishly thought. Maybe she'd be better at something else.

"Would you ever consider it?" Benji asked, wincing as she stared up. "No," Ariana said flatly. "Well, only if I was desperate" She continued promisingly.

She kicked fattening tree-trunk thighs that wouldn't look out of place on a statue of a Grecian goddess, he thought. In just a minute or less, the powder had turned Ariana into a stacked, plump sex fertility symbol that would rake in fame and money.

"Well, this might be easier than I imagined then." Benji said with a grin as he stood up, walking towards the edge of the pool as Ariana finally looked across, then down at her tiny step-brother.

She was frozen as she took in how her body had quintupled in size, running her huge hands over her giant, rolling curves, realizing just how big she'd become. Following her step-brother were their parents carrying the 'Welcome Home' dinner. Ariana's huge face passed through shock and embarrassment before she finally glared down with a raging inferno in her eyes at Benji.

"Oh, you are so dead." She breathed, her voice abnormally vibrating the air. "Benji, you are literally dead. I mean it. Run."

Any chance you could create an image of a woman with fertility goddess proportions stepping out of a pool with an angry expression?

[the-worms-in-your-bones]

Well I’ve officially reached the ‘having weird dreams featuring the characters’ stage of watching too much of a new show