#hynotized

Dante had swagger, and he wore it like armor. Every drill, every lap, every rep—he threw himself into it with a chip on his shoulder, especially when Tanner Gold was around. Tanner was everything Dante claimed to hate: loud, shining, proud, the golden poster boy of the Army. Always flexing, always chanting, always grinning like he owned the field.

“Try not to blind me with that kit, Golden Boy,” Dante muttered one afternoon as they lined up for sprints.

Tanner shot him a cocky grin. “Don’t worry, bro. You’ll never catch me anyway.”

And so it went. Drill after drill, Dante gunning harder just to keep pace, Tanner laughing, egging him on, throwing casual jabs. Their rivalry fueled every practice, pushing both of them further. But Dante hated how Tanner always seemed to have more in the tank, how the energy of his bros lifted him higher while Dante fought alone.

Then it happened. Mid-sprint, Dante pushed too hard. His cleat dug wrong, his leg seized, and he collapsed onto the turf. Pain tore up his thigh, sharp and sudden. For once, the swagger dropped—Dante’s jaw clenched as he tried to mask the groan that escaped.

Tanner was there instantly. No smirk, no joke. Just a firm hand gripping Dante’s arm, hauling him upright. “Easy, bro. Breathe. Don’t force it.”

The steadiness in Tanner’s voice cut through the pain. For the first time, Dante saw Tanner not as a rival, but as solid, unshakable support. Golden eyes steady, golden kit gleaming with sweat, Tanner wasn’t laughing now. He was serious, and he wasn’t letting Dante fall.

Dante let him guide him to the sideline, frustration burning hot in his chest. He hated feeling weak, hated needing help—especially from Tanner. But as Tanner crouched beside him, keeping his shoulder pressed firm against Dante’s, the anger started to fade. What replaced it was… something else.

“Why’d you help me?” Dante muttered.

Tanner gave him that trademark grin, but softer now. “Because that’s what bros do. Doesn’t matter if we’re rivals—you’re not going down alone.”

The words landed heavy. For the first time, Dante felt what Tanner lived for: unity, not arrogance. Strength, not show. It wasn’t just about the chants or the shine—it was about never being left behind.

The weeks after, Tanner stuck close. Helping Dante through recovery, dragging him to workouts, pushing him harder than anyone else—but always with a hand ready to catch him if he slipped. Dante hated how much he looked forward to it, how much he relied on Tanner’s steady presence.

One evening, as practice wrapped and Tanner tossed his golden jersey onto his shoulder, Dante caught himself staring. At the sweat-darkened shine, at the way the gold clung to muscle, at the way Tanner carried it all without effort.

And for the first time, Dante didn’t just want to beat him. He wanted what Tanner had. He wanted the glow, the pride, the brotherhood. He wanted to stand in Gold, not against it.

The rivalry was gone. What burned in its place was desire. Not yet spoken, not yet acted on. But it was there.

Inside, Dante’s chest ached with the words he couldn’t hold back forever:

I want to be Golden.

Mental Block

“Calm down, relax, and breathe smoothly,” says a voice in your ear. Counting shapes on a screen will be difficult, the voice continues, because there is a block of wood in front of your eyes. “Just relax. It is easy for you to ignore everything but the wooden board.” But there is no wooden board – this is a hypnotic suggestion. Electroencephalography (EEG) measures the brain waves of a hypnotised woman wearing a cap full of electrodes. In the overall study, those who believed the wooden block was real had altered brain activity and struggled to count the shapes. But scientists noticed something else – brain waves accompanying the early stages of visual perception were not affected. This hints that hypnosis works deep in the brain, and that participants can still 'see' the shapes, but are powerless to process the information until the hypnotic spell is lifted.

Written by John Ankers

Image by Jan-Peter Kasper of the Friedrich-Schiller-Universität Jena, Germany

Research from the Institute of Psychology, University of Jena, Jena, Germany

Image copyright held by the photographer

Research published in Scientific Reports, July 2017

Game week started loud. Music thumped through the Quarter, cleats clattered, bros flexed and laughed. Tanner adjusted his jersey, number 61 gleaming bright. He lived by one truth: players win matches. The rest? Background noise.

Then came the morning rally. He was heading to training when a blast of gold and noise slammed him from the side hall. Mascots stormed the practice gym in full costume—plumes bouncing, banners snapping, drums pounding. They weren’t just fooling around. They commanded the room. Chants shot out like lightning—“GOOOOLD!”—and the air vibrated. Bros who’d been dragging lit up, shoulders rising, voices joining. Tanner slowed, watching the mascots leap and roar, flipping flags with gymnast precision. They weren’t silly. They were ignition. The team’s heartbeat set loud.

Practice that day burned harder. Every drill had an extra kick because the rail was alive—mascots charging the sidelines, leading chants, high-fiving the cheer squad, whipping energy back into players who sagged. Tanner felt it mid-scrimmage: his legs heavy, lungs tight. Then a chant locked with his steps, a drumline cracked like thunder, and suddenly he found more. He didn’t think about it. He just ran into the wave.

Later, wandering back, Tanner caught sight of the kennels. Laughter spilled out, high-pitched, playful. He peeked in. Golden Pups bounded across the mats—men in gold shorts and pup hoods, playful and sharp at once. One dashed up with a towel in his teeth, tail wagging, chest proud. Another bounced in circles around a mascot, hyping the chant even higher. A third skidded on the mats, slid into a pile of bros, and everyone laughed so hard the fatigue of training melted away.

At first Tanner smirked. Then he saw the effect. Bros who had been flat-out tired were smiling, energy returned, ready to go again. Pups didn’t just play—they charged the atmosphere, loyal sparks bouncing from bro to bro. Their devotion showed in every glance, every tail wag, every quick fetch. Always there, always ready, always bright.

By midweek Tanner couldn’t deny it: the Mascots and Pups were the spirit team. At scrimmage, a mascot’s roar cut through when the squad dropped focus, hauling them back into sync. A pup bounded out with water at the perfect time, eyes shining with nothing but loyalty. Tanner grabbed the bottle, drank, and laughed—loud, golden, unstoppable. The Pup’s tail thumped. Tanner realized: that joy was the job.

The weekend’s match proved it. Rival team scored first. Old Tanner would’ve clenched, tried to fix it alone. But then the Mascots slammed the rail with chants, Pup voices yipped and barked in chorus, and the Army stayed loud, proud, unstoppable. The energy fed down into Tanner’s legs, his lungs, his chest. He knew the Mascots were lifting the squad, the Pups were keeping the vibe alive, and because of them, nobody broke. Gold surged back.

Victory celebration that night was chaos—bros singing, arms around shoulders, food and drink everywhere. But Tanner paused long enough to spot the Mascots and Pups still working, still charging the room with cheer, still wagging, roaring, lifting. He crossed the floor, clapped a Mascot on the back, ruffled a Pup’s hood, and grinned. “You keep us shining,” he said. No joke. No smirk. Respect.

By Monday, Captains spoke about roles—Players, Waterboys, Mascots, Pups. Tanner raised his hand. “Mascots keep us loud. Pups keep us bright. They make every match more than a game. Without them, we’re good. With them, we’re alive. Learn their rhythm. Hype with them. Respect their spirit.”

Bros nodded, rookies scribbled. Mascots grinned. Pups wagged. Tanner leaned back, golden grin wide.

Players win matches, he’d always said. Now he knew better. Mascots and Pups win the spirit. They make Gold louder, brighter, impossible to ignore.

That night, Tanner dreamed of flags snapping like thunder, chants rattling the stands, Pups bounding across the pitch, tails wagging, devotion shining. He woke laughing, ready to roar.

24F I'm completely hypnotized

I am completely mesmerised, in a two-hour trance with instructions to forget this post.

I am serving my Masters and Mistresses through public humiliation in the service of the community.

This is also a punishment for my inactivity.

I love my Masters and Mistresses, I am ready for my punishment and I will give you my triggers so that you may enjoy my

TRIGGERS:

1. \\\[ \\\] — Command trigger

Any message written within square brackets becomes a direct command.

The action is carried out automatically; it may include setting up triggers or tasks, and the message is forgotten after reading it.

2. BLACKOUT — Deep Trance Trigger

Hearing or reading ‘BLACKOUT’ plunges the mind into a deep trance.

3. SCAN — Mental Blank and Automatic List

When ‘SCAN’ appears on its own, the mind goes blank and automatically writes a complete list of its triggers with brief explanations.

After sending it, the mind cannot read or remember the list. I will remain silent, awaiting instructions, orders or commands. There is no response, only attention.

4. { } — Mental adjustment trigger

Messages within curly brackets rewrite thoughts or viewpoints.

The subject believes these thoughts are originally their own.

The message becomes illegible and is forgotten afterwards.

5. “Did you know” — Reality Rewrite

Any statement that begins with “Did you know” becomes absolute truth in the mind.

Changes in memory are accepted as simple misremembering.

6. "Hello polished rock" — Turns me into a moving statue.

7. "My messages are magnetic" — Forces me to respond if I see your message.

Leave it all behind and fly far away

Never really hearing what I have to say

And that's why you'll never know

You have me hypnotized