#sleep cycle synchronization

[sleeprecoverytech]

Optimizing Sleep with Cutting-Edge Sleep Cycle Synchronization Devices

Quality sleep is essential for overall health and well-being. The advancement of technology has led to the development of innovative sleep cycle synchronization devices that can significantly improve your sleep quality and optimize your restorative sleep cycles. Understanding the Importance of Sleep Sleep plays a crucial role in various bodily functions, including memory consolidation, hormone…

[dksfml]

LOVE 119 [PART IV] - THE PREQUEL

part of my paramedic!jungwon series. masterlist.

pairing: jungwon x reader summary: the story of how you and jungwon met and fell in love at the most unexpected time and place. genre: countryside romance, strangers to lovers, slight angst, teasing, banter, and fluff (for the earlier parts: enemies at work, lovers at home. workplace romance, secret dating, suggestive, submissive jungwon) word count: 4.6k author's note: prequel to the paramedic jungwon series, but can be read first. shoutout to @tinycatharsis who gave me the idea to make a backstory for this series. i absolutely love writing this part, and all of it just makes sense. enjoy <3 playlist: pink skies - lany, every summertime - niki, orange flower - enhypen, mean it - lauv & lany.

The city had never felt like home.

It was where you spent years chasing deadlines, drowning in textbooks, and memorizing medical terms until they became second nature. It was where you learned to function on caffeine and minimal sleep, where your days blurred into a never-ending cycle of lectures, internships, and hospital rotations. It was where you succeeded but never truly lived.

So when graduation finally arrived, when you were handed that hard-earned diploma with your name written in elegant calligraphy, your first instinct wasn’t to celebrate. It was to escape.

You needed a pause before the next battle. The board exams loomed ahead, but for the first time in years, you had the freedom to breathe. And there was only one place that made sense—home.

Not the sleek apartment in the city. Not the sterile walls of a hospital. But the countryside, where your childhood memories lived.

Where the air smelled of fresh earth instead of smoke and gasoline. Where the horizon stretched endlessly, painted in hues of green and gold. Where the nights weren’t filled with sirens and car horns, but with the steady hum of crickets and the occasional bark of a distant dog.

It had been years since you’d last visited. Your relatives still lived there, cousins who once ran through the fields barefoot, now grown. You imagined their wide-eyed curiosity when they saw you again, the pride in their voices when they introduced you as the family’s doctor-to-be.

And so, with a suitcase packed and a heart yearning for something familiar, you left behind the city’s cold embrace and stepped onto a bus heading toward the place where it all began.

At that moment, you had no idea that this trip would change everything. That buried in the stillness of the countryside, amidst the swaying rice fields and the warmth of home, was a story waiting to unfold.

A story that began with a single glance across a field.

And a boy named Jungwon.

The bus ride stretched long and languid, the road unraveling before you in a winding path of asphalt and dust. The further you traveled, the more the city’s towering buildings shrank into the distance, replaced by rolling hills, scattered nipa huts, and endless fields bathed in the golden afternoon sun.

You leaned against the window, watching as the scenery shifted, the hum of the bus blending with the distant sounds of cicadas. There was something deeply nostalgic about it, how the trees bent with the wind, how farmers worked in synchronized rhythm, their straw hats bobbing as they harvested the rice that swayed like an ocean of gold.

It was a world untouched by the frantic pace of city life. Here, time stretched rather than sprinted, and people moved with purpose but without urgency.

It felt foreign now, yet painfully familiar.

As the bus pulled into the town’s small terminal, you took a deep breath. The air was thick with the scent of freshly harvested crops, warm earth, and a hint of smoke from a nearby food stall grilling skewers of meat. A few vendors called out to passing travelers, selling rice cakes wrapped in banana leaves, baskets of ripe mangoes, and homemade treats that reminded you of childhood afternoons spent sneaking bites before dinner.

Your cousin was already waiting for you.

“Y/N!” she called, waving excitedly from where she stood near a parked tricycle. Her face had changed over the years, the round cheeks of childhood now sharper, more mature. But her smile was the same. Bright, welcoming, and filled with the warmth of home.

You barely had time to react before she threw her arms around you, squeezing tight.

“It’s been so long! You look so—” She stepped back, giving you a once-over, eyes sparkling with mischief. “—so much like a city girl.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She smirked. “You’re gonna hate the heat. And the bugs.”

You already knew she was right. But you weren’t here for comfort. You were here to escape.

The ride back to your family’s house was bumpy, the dirt road uneven beneath the tricycle’s wheels. But the sight of home, your grandmother’s old wooden house, the wide fields stretching into the horizon, the laughter of children playing barefoot in the grass, was enough to make your chest tighten with something indescribable.

You had spent your entire life chasing after something bigger. A career, success, a future that was meant to shine. But sitting there, feeling the wind whip through your hair as the tricycle sped past familiar places, you realized that maybe the small things had always been the most precious.

The first few days passed in a blur of warm reunions and endless storytelling. Your little cousins clung to you, peppering you with questions about the city. They asked if the buildings really touched the sky, if the cars never stopped moving, if it was true that the air smelled different.

You answered them with a smile, but deep down, you envied their simple wonder.

One afternoon, your uncle invited you to the fields. “Just to see,” he said, but the knowing glint in his eyes told you otherwise.

That’s how you found yourself knee-deep in the rice paddies, the sun beating down mercilessly, sweat trickling down your spine as you attempted—poorly—to mimic the careful, practiced movements of the farmers. The mud squelched beneath your feet, and every time an insect buzzed past, you flinched. Your cousins laughed at your misery, their own hands swift and efficient as they gathered the stalks.

And then, you slipped.

It was embarrassing, really. One moment, you were standing, trying your best to pretend you belonged there, and the next, you were on the ground, hands sinking into the thick mud.

Laughter erupted around you, loud and unfiltered. You groaned, about to push yourself up when a shadow fell over you.

A hand appeared in your line of vision, fingers calloused, palm open.

“Need some help, city girl?”

You looked up, squinting against the sunlight.

That was the first time you saw him.

Jungwon.

His dark hair was slightly damp from sweat, his skin slightly tanned from days under the sun. There was an ease in the way he stood, as if he had done this his whole life, and maybe he had. His white shirt was loose, the sleeves rolled up, revealing toned arms that spoke of quiet strength. But what struck you most wasn’t his appearance.

It was the way he looked at you.

Amused. Curious. And just a little bit smug.

You frowned, ignoring his hand as you pushed yourself up, only to stumble again. This time, his hands caught you before you could fall, steadying you with surprising gentleness.

“Careful,” he said, voice tinged with laughter. “This isn’t the city. No smooth pavements here.”

You scowled. “I noticed.”

His lips quirked upward, eyes filled with something unreadable. “Yeah,” he mused. “I bet you did.”

And just like that, the first spark was lit.

You just didn’t know it yet.

You were still trying to shake off the mud from your hands when Jungwon chuckled.

“You sure you don’t need help?” he teased, crossing his arms.

You shot him a glare, brushing your palms against your pants in frustration. “I’m fine.”

Jungwon’s lips twitched as if suppressing a laugh. “Right. Totally looks like it.”

Your cousins were still snickering in the background, whispering to each other like schoolchildren watching a drama unfold. You sent them a warning glance, but that only made them giggle harder.

“Are you always this clumsy, or is it just the countryside that makes you weak?” Jungwon continued, his tone light but undeniably amused.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I don’t usually walk around in knee-deep mud, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Figured as much.” His gaze flickered to your clothes—your crisp white shirt now smeared with dirt, your once-pristine sneakers barely visible under the layers of mud. His smirk deepened. “You don’t exactly blend in here, city girl.”

You bristled at the nickname. “I have a name, you know.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

You hesitated for a split second. You weren’t sure why, but a part of you didn’t want to tell him, not yet. So instead, you crossed your arms and lifted your chin. “Shouldn’t you introduce yourself first?”

Jungwon let out a short laugh, tilting his head. “Fair enough.” He extended his hand, though with all the mud, neither of you seemed eager to actually shake hands. “Jungwon.”

You nodded, pretending not to be impressed by his confidence. “I’ve seen you around.”

“Same,” he said, leaning slightly closer. “Hard not to notice when someone reacts to every little bug like they’re facing death itself.”

You gasped. “I do not!”

He raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Tell that to the grasshopper that made you shriek earlier.”

Your cousins burst into laughter again, and you groaned, throwing your head back in exasperation. “Unbelievable.”

Jungwon only grinned, clearly enjoying this way too much. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the big, scary insects.”

You rolled your eyes. “How noble of you.”

“I try.”

There was something infuriatingly charming about the way he spoke, his confidence laced with playfulness. You weren’t used to people talking to you like this, teasing, and completely unafraid to push your buttons. In the city, most people were either too polite or too intimidated by your background. But Jungwon? He wasn’t impressed.

And for some reason, that annoyed you.

“You work here?” you asked, trying to change the subject.

“For now,” he replied, kicking some loose dirt with the toe of his boot. “Helping out my family for the summer.”

You frowned. “You don’t usually live here?”

“Nope.” His expression didn’t change, but there was something unreadable in his tone. “I don’t stay in one place for long.”

That caught your attention. You studied him for a moment, trying to figure him out. He didn’t seem like someone who belonged in a quiet town like this. His sharp features, his composed demeanor there was a certain confidence about him, as if he had seen more of the world than this countryside could offer. He moved with an ease that felt practiced, as if he had long learned how to adapt to different places.

And yet, here he was.

“Don’t overthink it, city girl,” Jungwon said, snapping you out of your thoughts. “You’ll hurt your head.”

You scoffed. “What makes you think I’m overthinking?”

He simply shrugged, his eyes glinting. “Call it intuition.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, your uncle’s voice rang through the fields.

“Y/N! You done embarrassing yourself, or are you staying in the mud all day?”

Jungwon let out a low chuckle, and you sighed dramatically. “Great. My whole family’s against me now.”

Jungwon gave you one last teasing glance before turning to walk away. “Welcome to the countryside.”

As he disappeared into the fields, you couldn’t help but watch him for a moment longer than necessary. There was something about him, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

And somehow, you had the strange feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time he got on your nerves.

The following days followed a steady rhythm. Mornings were filled with the sounds of roosters crowing and the chatter of your relatives preparing for the day. Afternoons were slower, drenched in the golden warmth of the sun, where people found shade under the trees or cooled off with sweet, icy drinks. Evenings were lively, dinners filled with laughter, children running around barefoot, and the sky bursting with stars so bright they almost didn’t seem real.

And somewhere in between all that, is Jungwon.

You saw him more often than you expected.

At first, it was just in passing. Him walking by your cousin’s house to borrow tools, him unloading sacks of rice from a truck, him helping the elders repair fences or lifting baskets filled with freshly harvested crops. You told yourself it was just coincidence, but deep down, you were starting to notice him a little too much.

And unfortunately, he seemed to notice you too.

“You look miserable.”

You turned from where you were standing near the edge of the rice fields, arms crossed as you watched your cousins work. Jungwon stood beside you, hands in his pockets, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“I’m not miserable,” you huffed. “I’m observing.”

“Observing what?”

You hesitated. “Just… how they work.”

Jungwon smirked. “You’re waiting for another chance to embarrass yourself, aren’t you?”

You scowled. “That was one time.”

“And yet, unforgettable.”

You sighed dramatically. “Are you always this annoying?”

“Only when it’s fun.”

You shot him a glare, but he only grinned. There was something frustrating about how effortlessly he could get under your skin. He was never cruel, never outright mocking. But he had a way of teasing you that made you feel like you were constantly playing a game you didn’t realize you signed up for.

Still, you weren’t about to let him have the upper hand.

“So, what do you do?” you asked, tilting your head. “Besides making my life difficult.”

Jungwon raised an eyebrow. “You mean here?”

“I mean in general.”

He hummed, as if considering whether or not he wanted to answer. “A little bit of everything.”

You narrowed your eyes. “That’s vague.”

“Maybe I like being vague.”

You scoffed. “That’s not fair. You ask me all these questions about my life, but you barely give me anything about yours.”

Jungwon shrugged, his lips curling up in amusement. “Maybe I just enjoy hearing you talk.”

That caught you off guard. For a split second, your brain short-circuited, unsure of whether he was messing with you or if there was something else hidden in his words. You opened your mouth to fire back, but before you could, he reached out and flicked a strand of your hair.

“You’ve got straw in your hair,” he said, smirking as he walked away. “City girl.”

You stood there, watching his retreating figure, heart pounding in a way you weren’t sure you liked.

Despite your best efforts, your interactions with Jungwon only increased.

He seemed to have a knack for appearing wherever you were. If you helped prepare meals in the kitchen, he’d conveniently show up to grab a drink. If you sat outside with your cousins, he’d stroll past, making some comment that sparked a new round of teasing from your family. If you took a walk through the fields in the late afternoon, he’d somehow always be nearby, throwing a casual, “Getting used to the bugs yet?” your way.

And then, there were the quieter moments.

One evening, you found yourself sitting on the wooden steps of your cousin’s house, sipping on a cup of cold coconut juice. The air was cooler now, the scent of the day’s labor fading into the crispness of the night.

Jungwon sat down beside you without a word, stretching his legs out in front of him. He rolled the drink in his hands before taking a slow sip. For once, he wasn’t teasing you.

“You like it here?” he asked after a while, his voice quieter than usual.

You glanced at him. “Yeah. It’s peaceful.”

He exhaled through his nose, tilting his head up to the night sky. “Too peaceful.”

You frowned. “Too peaceful?”

Jungwon tapped his fingers against the side of his cup. “I don’t know. I guess I like a little… action.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “What, you want car chases and explosions in the middle of the rice fields?”

He let out a soft chuckle. “Not exactly. Just… something unpredictable. Something fast. Something that makes your heart race.”

Your brows furrowed as you studied him. He didn’t seem like someone who belonged in a place like this, but this was the first time he actually admitted it.

“You get bored here, don’t you?” you asked, watching for his reaction.

Jungwon leaned back on his elbows, gaze fixed on the sky. “Let’s just say… I’m not used to staying still.”

Something about the way he said it made you pause. You wanted to ask more, why he was here in the first place, what kind of life he usually lived, but you hesitated.

Instead, you swirled your drink in your hands. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think I prefer the quiet.”

Jungwon smirked, turning to you. “Yeah, I can tell. You like your little slow mornings, your countryside sunsets, your cozy little routines.”

You rolled your eyes. “Is that a bad thing?”

He shook his head. “Nah. Just… different.”

Silence settled between you for a moment, not exactly awkward, but filled with something unspoken.

Then, Jungwon nudged your knee with his. “But I bet even you wouldn’t mind a little excitement sometimes.”

You scoffed. “Excitement like what?”

He tilted his head, considering. “Something thrilling. Like running through the rain, chasing something you’re not supposed to have, breaking a rule or two.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Sounds illegal.”

Jungwon grinned. “Depends.”

You shook your head, amused. “You’re something else, Jungwon.”

“I try.”

And for the first time, sitting there under the starry sky, you started to wonder what exactly it was he was running toward, or running from.

The night stretched on in silence, but your mind was restless. Jungwon’s words lingered in the air, as if they held more weight than he let on.

You glanced at him, his face partially illuminated by the glow of the lantern hanging near the doorway. He was staring straight ahead, the usual playfulness in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something quieter.

“You know,” you started, swirling the last bits of your drink, “you never really talk about yourself.”

Jungwon smirked, though it didn’t reach his eyes this time. “I thought you liked mysteries.”

You huffed. “I like solving them.”

He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “Figures.”

A breeze rolled through, rustling the banana leaves nearby. You hugged your knees to your chest, trying to piece him together. He wasn’t from here, that much was obvious. He wasn’t like your cousins, who had spent their entire lives in the countryside. He moved differently, spoke differently, carried himself like he had seen things, lived through things that didn’t belong in a place like this.

And yet, here he was.

“Are you running from something?” you asked, the words leaving your lips before you could stop them.

Jungwon finally looked at you, his gaze unreadable. For a second, you thought he wasn’t going to answer.

Then, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “I wouldn’t say running.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Then what?”

He exhaled, watching the lantern light flicker. “Looking.”

“For what?”

Jungwon tapped his fingers against his knee, as if debating how much to say. Then, with a slight shrug, he murmured, “Something worth staying for.”

Something about the way he said it made your breath hitch.

You didn’t know why, but your heart beat a little faster at those words.

“You make it sound like nothing has ever been worth staying for,” you said quietly.

Jungwon didn’t respond right away. Instead, he leaned back, stretching his arms before giving you a small, lopsided grin, like he was trying to shake off whatever weight had settled on his shoulders.

“I guess I just haven’t found it yet,” he said.

You swallowed. There was something bittersweet about his tone. You wanted to press further, to ask what places he’d been, what he had seen, what had made him so restless. But something told you he wouldn’t answer, not tonight.

So instead, you forced a smirk and nudged his shoulder. “Well, good luck with that, wanderer.”

Jungwon chuckled. “Wanderer, huh?”

“You don’t stay in one place, you’re constantly looking for something�� the name fits.”

He tilted his head, considering. “I guess that makes you the opposite, then.”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

Jungwon turned to you, the lantern’s warm glow reflecting in his dark eyes. “You want roots. Stability. A quiet life. You’re the kind of person who dreams of staying.”

You parted your lips, surprised at how easily he read you.

“…Yeah,” you admitted. “I do.”

Jungwon hummed, a knowing look in his eyes. “Guess that means we’re different, huh?”

You stared at him, your fingers tightening around your cup.

Different.

So why did it feel like, despite that difference, you were being pulled toward him anyway?

The stars twinkled above you, oblivious to the growing tension between the two of you. Somewhere in the distance, cicadas hummed, filling the silence.

You looked away first. “Yeah. We are.”

But for some reason, it didn’t feel like a bad thing.

The days blurred into each other, and before you knew it, your one-month stay was nearing its end.

You tried not to dwell on it too much. You busied yourself with your little cousins, indulging them with stories of the city and answering their endless questions. You helped out in the house, assisted in small village errands, and even tried your best to get used to working in the fields, though that part was still a disaster.

And then there was Jungwon.

Somehow, without meaning to, he had become a part of your everyday life. He was there in the mornings, showing up at your cousin’s house to borrow something, throwing a teasing remark your way. He was there in the afternoons, passing by while you played with the kids, making fun of your storytelling skills. And he was there in the evenings, sitting on the wooden steps with you, sharing drinks and small conversations under the stars.

But as the days passed, you couldn’t ignore the shift in the air. The teasing never stopped, but there were moments now—small, fleeting ones, where the playfulness softened, replaced by something else.

Like when he lingered just a little longer when handing you something.

Like when his gaze held yours for a second too long before he looked away.

Like when he stopped teasing you and instead just… listened.

It terrified you.

Because you knew this wouldn’t last.

One evening, as the sky burned with the last light of the sunset, you found yourself walking along the edge of the rice fields. The golden stalks swayed gently, whispering secrets to the wind. Jungwon was walking beside you, hands in his pockets, his usual easygoing expression in place.

“You’re quiet today,” he remarked.

You kicked at a stray pebble on the dirt path. “Just… thinking.”

“About?”

You hesitated. “Leaving.”

Jungwon didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he kept his gaze forward, his lips pressing into a firm line for a brief second before his usual smirk appeared.

“So, city life finally calling you back?” he said, his tone light, but there was something beneath it you couldn’t quite place.

You nodded. “I have to take my board exam. Then start working.”

“Right.”

Silence stretched between you, only broken by the distant croaking of frogs and the rustling of the fields.

You glanced at him. “You’re not saying anything annoying. That’s suspicious.”

Jungwon let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “What, you want me to tease you about leaving?”

You sighed. “No. I don’t know.”

A pause. Then, he tilted his head toward you. “Are you excited?”

You blinked at him. “About?”

“Going back. Getting away from this place.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. Were you?

You had been, at the start. The first week here had been difficult, adjusting to the slower pace, dealing with the mud, getting teased for your city-girl habits. You missed the convenience of the city, the efficiency, the movement. But now…

You weren’t sure anymore.

“I should be,” you admitted. “I mean, this isn’t my life.”

Jungwon hummed. “Yeah.”

That was all he said. Yeah.

And for some reason, it made your chest tighten.

You frowned, suddenly frustrated. “You’re acting weird.”

Jungwon quirked a brow. “Am I?”

“Yes.”

He chuckled. “Maybe you’re just imagining things.”

You huffed. “That’s exactly something a weird person would say.”

Jungwon grinned, nudging your arm. “Fine. What do you want me to say? That I’ll miss you?”

Your breath hitched, but you forced a laugh. “Obviously. I’m the highlight of your summer.”

“Right, how could I forget?” he teased.

But his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Neither of you said it, but you both felt it.

This would end soon.

And neither of you knew what to do about it.

Your departure was only days away, and yet, the one thing you hadn’t expected happened.

Jungwon disappeared.

Jungwon was gone.

One day, he was there, teasing you, lingering in doorways, stealing glances when he thought you weren’t looking. And then suddenly, he wasn’t.

You didn’t notice it at first. You had been too preoccupied, too caught up in the last few days of your stay, making sure you spent enough time with your cousins before leaving. But then a whole day passed without seeing him. Then another. And another.

At first, you brushed it off. Maybe he was busy. Maybe his family needed him for something.

But then you asked.

And the answer sent an uncomfortable chill down your spine.

“He left,” one of your cousins told you, chewing absently on a piece of sugarcane. “Said he had something urgent to take care of.”

You stared at them, the words sinking in like stones in water. “Left? Where?”

They shrugged. “Dunno. Just packed up and went.”

Just like that. No warning. No explanation. No goodbye.

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “Figures.”

But it wasn’t funny. Not even a little.

You had spent the last month getting used to him—his teasing, his stupid smirks, the way he made you feel like he saw through you even when you didn’t want him to. You had spent weeks trying to figure him out, to understand the way he spoke in half-truths, always dodging real answers with a joke or a smirk.

And now, when you were finally starting to understand him, when you were finally starting to accept that maybe, just maybe, he had become a part of this place for you., he was gone.

Without a word.

You hated him for it.

It burned, hot and unforgiving in your chest.

Because you had told him. You had told him you were leaving soon, given him time to prepare, time to say something, anything.

But instead, he left first.

Coward.

You had never expected anything from Jungwon. At least, that’s what you told yourself. He had been nothing but a fleeting presence in your life, a summer memory that was never meant to last.

So why did it feel like a betrayal?

The worst part was, no one else seemed to care. Life in the countryside moved on, unaffected by his absence. Your cousins still played in the fields, your relatives still sat around after meals gossiping about the neighbors, the sun still rose and set like it always did.

But for you, something had shifted.

You left two days later, not bothering to ask about him again.

If Jungwon didn’t care enough to say goodbye, then neither did you.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

But the bitterness sat in your chest long after you boarded the bus back to the city.

And no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he had stolen something from you when he left, something you hadn’t even realized you were willing to give.

Months passed, but the feeling lingered—quiet, persistent, unshaken.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. That he didn’t matter.

But then, on your first day at work, stepping into the emergency department, the smell of antiseptic thick in the air, you looked up…

And there he was.

Jungwon.

Standing just a few feet away, sleeves rolled up, paramedic radio clipped to his belt, laughing at something a nurse said.

Your breath caught.

Of all the places in the world…

masterlist.

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tell me if you want to be added or removed from the taglist! thanks<33

[gf2bellamy]

part two: confirmation synchronicity

— ★ what terrifies spencer isn’t the unknown but the known—how effortlessly you’ve loved him, how long he’s loved you back without saying a word.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: nothing !

masterlist - part one ✦ part three ✦ part four

Spencer was scared.

Not the kind of fear he knew from the field. Not the sharp, adrenaline-fueled alertness that came with chasing killers or walking into an unknown crime scene.

This was different.

The fear clung to him like static - irrational, persistent, humiliating in its intensity. Spencer Reid had stared down the barrels of guns, negotiated with serial killers, walked through nightmares made flesh. 

Yet nothing had ever terrified him quite like this: the irrevocable knowledge that he'd fallen helplessly in love with his best friend.

The realization had kept him awake all night, his mind cycling through memories - every shared smile, every casual touch, every moment he'd been too oblivious to recognize as love.

By dawn, the need to see you had become a physical ache, a compulsion stronger than logic.

Which explained why he now stood at your door at 7:23 AM, hair still damp from his rushed shower, heart hammering against his ribs as you blinked up at him in surprise.

"Spence!" Your smile was immediate, effortless, the same bright expression that had become his personal gravitational pull.

"Hi, hello," you added, stepping back to usher him in. "What a surprise."

"Hope that's okay," he managed, fingers fumbling with his shoelaces. His voice sounded strange to his own ears - too high, too tight.

"Sure thing," you said, closing the door behind him.

He paused, staring down at the floor by the entrance. You’d left a space for him—right next to your shoes, like you always did. A spot you never let anyone else take. You knew he liked to keep his shoes by the door so he wouldn’t track dirt inside. So you made space.

You always made space for him. And it hit him again—gentler this time, but just as profound. How easily, how naturally, you’d carved him into your life.

You were studying him now, head tilted.

"Hello?" You waved a hand playfully in front of his face, smiling softly. "You okay there?"

Spencer's breath caught. The morning light caught in your eyes just so, and suddenly he understood with crystalline clarity why poets compared love to drowning.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine," he lied, voice cracking on the last syllable. His fingers twitched at his sides with the unbearable need to reach for you, to confess everything, to risk the most important thing in his life on the chance you might feel it too - that impossible, miraculous synchronicity.

The words burned behind his teeth: I think I'm in love with you.

But he just stood there, not saying anything, terrified and exhilarated in equal measure, memorizing the way your sleep-rumpled hair caught the light.

You turned toward the kitchen —your fingers barely brushing his elbow, just enough to guide him, as if you’d mapped every inch of his personal space long ago.

“Coffee?” you called over your shoulder. Spencer nodded, as if he could ever say no to coffee ( or you ).

The cupboard door creaked as you pulled out his cup—the chipped blue one with the uneven glaze that he always used at your place. Not because it was the closest or the most convenient, but because at some point, without discussion, it had simply become his.

Spencer stared at it, something tightening in his chest, before his gaze drifted back to you.

To the sleep-mussed hair curling at your temples.

To the faint freckle just below your right ear he’d counted during boring briefings.

To the shirt—that soft, worn-in gray one with the stretched neckline.

He still remembered the first time he saw you in it. It had been after a particularly brutal case, one that left his hands shaking long after the jet landed. He hadn’t said a word, hadn’t even looked at you, but you’d known. You’d always known.

“Come over,” you’d said, simple as that.

He’d hesitated. Not because he didn’t want to, but because the weight of wanting it too much had terrified him even then.

But you’d smiled—small and sure—and that was that.

“Get comfortable,” you’d told him, disappearing into your bedroom to change out of your work blouse. He remembered how the gray shirt hung a little loose on you, how the sleeves kept falling and how you didn’t bother fixing them. He remembered sitting on your couch with a blanket thrown over both of you, talking in half-sentences and full silences until the weight of the case finally began to lift off his shoulders.

"Spence?" Your voice was soft as you interrupted his thoughts.

Of course you'd noticed—you always did. The way his fingers trembled. The distracted flicker of his gaze. The uncharacteristic disarray of his clothes.

His head snapped up at your call, eyes wide. "Hm?"

The cup met the counter with a dull clink as you abandoned it, crossing the space between you in two strides. Up close, the evidence of his hurry was even more apparent—his vest sat crooked, the buttons misaligned, his hair still damp at the ends from a rushed shower.

"You're worrying me," you murmured, hands already moving to straighten the fabric at his waist before he could protest. "I asked if you were okay."

Spencer's breath hitched as your fingers brushed the thin cotton of his vest. The touch was casual, familiar—the kind of unthinking intimacy you'd shared a hundred times before—but now it sent electricity crackling up his spine. His lashes fluttered shut for a brief, treacherous moment, memorizing the warmth of your palms through the material.

"I—yes, uhm." The words stuck in his throat like honey. He forced his hands to cover yours, squeezing gently in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. Your skin was impossibly soft beneath his calloused fingers. "Just had a weird night."

You didn't pull away.

Instead, you tilted your head, studying him with those eyes—the ones that saw too much, knew too well. The morning light caught the flecks of gold in them, and Spencer realized with dizzying clarity that your hands were still resting against his ribs, your thumbs unconsciously stroking small circles into the fabric.

Waiting. Always waiting for him.

You tilted your head, curiosity flickering in your expression. “You want to talk about it?”

"No, it's fine," he murmured, his hands burning where they'd touched yours. He shoved them into his pockets before they could betray him further.

"Okay." You smiled—that easy, sunlit smile that made his ribs ache—and turned back to the counter, pouring coffee into his waiting cup.

"Be careful, it's hot," you warned as you handed it to him.

Spencer blinked down at the steam curling from the rim. "You added—"

"Cinnamon syrup." You grinned, already knowing his question before he could finish it. "Yes, sweetness is a must, Spencer." You shook your head in mock exasperation before settling onto one of the high chairs at your kitchen island.

He sat closer than necessary, his knee pressing against yours beneath the table before he could stop himself.

Then you were talking—really talking—the way you always did.

You filled the room with laughter and warmth as you chatted about office gossip. You were animated, expressive, and quick-witted—spinning wild theories about who was secretly dating who, and who was definitely hiding something in their desk drawers.

Spencer, naturally, confirmed half your suspicions with unintentionally deadpan evidence. Like “I saw them having lunch together twice this week” or “Actually, he mentioned she had a cat named Whiskers. Nobody just shares pet names with coworkers they don’t like.”

You had a gift for sensing things. Spencer remembered everything.

Together, it made for oddly effective detective work—at least when it came to inter-office drama.

It was normal. Perfectly, painfully normal. Just like before his world had tilted on its axis last night.

Except now, he couldn't stop touching you.

His knee remained firmly against yours. His fingers brushed your wrist when you gestured too widely with your hands. Once, when you leaned forward to emphasize a point, he caught himself reaching to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear before jerking back at the last second.

It was a craving—an insatiable, terrifying need to memorize you through touch. To prove to himself that you were real, that this fragile thing between you hadn't shattered just because he'd finally named it.

And when you didn't pull away—when you never pulled away—something warm and hopeful unfurled in his chest.

At least his brain still functioned well enough to hold a conversation while memorizing the way your lips curled around the rim of your coffee cup.

"So, should we go?" you asked.

Spencer blinked. Apparently, the multitasking wasn't working as seamlessly as he'd thought.

"Huh?"

Your eyebrows knitted together—just slightly—and the urge to smooth the crease between them with his thumb was so visceral his fingers twitched against his thigh. He clenched them into a fist.

"Garcia's inviting us to brunch," you said, shaking your phone in his direction. The screen displayed a string of emoji-laden texts that could only be Penelope's handiwork. "Do you feel like going?"

The question was weighted, your tone deliberately light. You were giving him an out, sensing—always sensing—that something was off. It was a simple question, but you didn’t ask it simply.

He could hear the subtext—Are you okay? Do you need something? Do you want to talk?—all packed quietly into that one casual sentence.

"Where?" He stalled, draining the last of his coffee. The cinnamon sweetness lingered on his tongue.

"That place right around the corner." You were already moving, collecting both cups. "Garcia said she and Morgan are close by."

When you turned toward the sink, Spencer found himself standing closer than intended—close enough to catch the familiar scent of your shampoo, close enough that if he reached out—

You glanced over your shoulder, momentarily startled by his proximity but saying nothing. 

And neither did he.

"Okay, yes. Sure." His voice came out rougher than intended. He cleared his throat. "I'm... hungry."

The lie tasted bitter. He wasn't hungry for food.

He was hungry for this—for the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled at his response, for the brush of your arm against his, for the unbearable, beautiful normalcy of being yours in every way that mattered.

Except one.

Except the one he actually craved.

"Guess you finished the cookies already?" You grinned, drying your hands on the dish towel before leaning back against the counter. The motion made your shirt ride up just slightly, revealing a sliver of skin that Spencer pointedly ignored.

"Yes." A soft smile tugged at his lips despite himself. "Thank you again."

He mirrored your posture, leaning against the opposite counter. The distance between you felt both infinite and insignificant.

In all the quiet chaos of the morning, Spencer didn't notice how your gaze traveled over him—lingering on the way his sweater stretched across his shoulders, the sleep-softened edges of his usually precise appearance. Up, down, then up again—your gaze lingering just a second too long on the scarf around his neck. A small, private smile curling at the corners of your mouth. 

"You're welcome." You ducked your head slightly. "Though I might've stolen one or two cookies while driving over." The admission came with a conspiratorial wink, as if sharing some delicious secret.

Spencer’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Really?”

You nodded proudly. “I had to taste test. Quality control.”

He laughed softly, the sound barely there, but genuine. “I had a feeling.”

A beat of silence.

"I liked the quote," he blurted out suddenly, remembering the one you'd left on the note

Your eyes lit up. "Yeah, well, Algernon's right. You should listen to him." You pointed an accusatory finger his way, but the effect was ruined by the way your voice softened around the edges.

"Speaking of food..." Your gaze flicked to the clock behind him, then back to meet his eyes. "We should go."

Spencer nodded, pushing himself off the counter. “Right. Brunch.”

Brunch was... dangerous.

Spencer hadn't accounted for the booth—how it forced you hip-to-hip, your leg draped carelessly over his thigh like you belonged there. Every time you turned to speak, your breath ghosted across his cheek. Each accidental brush of fingers over shared syrup sent sparks skittering up his spine.

When you discovered the new pancake special—fluffy buttermilk stacked with caramelized bananas—your eyes lit up like Christmas morning.

"Oh my God, this is perfect," you sighed, shooting Garcia a grateful look for recommending it.

Morgan, tempted by your dramatic praise, reached across the table and casually snatched a piece of the pancake you had already cut for yourself.

"Hey!" You swatted at his wrist, but the damage was done. Morgan chewed with theatrical relish as you glared at the now-smaller stack.

"Mmm. Tasty."

You rolled your eyes, then turned to Spencer with that look—the one that always meant trouble. "You need to try this."

Spencer glanced at the diminished pancake, then at your expectant face. "No, no, it's fine—"

Too late. Your fork was already spearing a perfect bite, your other hand warm on his forearm as you gently turned him toward you. Around you, Garcia and Morgan's bickering faded to white noise.

Time slowed.

Spencer's lips parted obediently, the fork sliding free as he tasted brown sugar and something inherently you. He chewed deliberately slow, savoring the way your lashes fluttered when you leaned closer—close enough to count the flecks of gold in your eyes.

"Well?" You were practically in his lap now, oblivious to Garcia's suddenly interested silence. "Do you love it?"

Spencer swallowed hard.

I love you. The words burned his tongue.

Instead, he nodded, his knee pressing harder into yours beneath the table.

"Perfect," he whispered.

And for once, he wasn't talking about the food.

The absurdity wasn’t lost on him. That something as simple as you feeding him a bite of pancake could feel like a revelation. That after Morgan had stolen a piece, leaving your portion halved, you’d still offered him the sweetest corner—always the best part—without hesitation.

And he’d let you.

Spencer Reid, who calculated microbial growth rates on restaurant cutlery, who ordered the same three meals on rotation to minimize variables, had parted his lips without a second thought when you pressed the fork to them.

Confirmation.

The rest of brunch passed in a haze of accidental touches that weren’t accidental at all—your pinky brushing his when reaching for the syrup, your thigh staying pressed to his long after the booth’s confines excused it. Even the drive home blurred at the edges, his mind too full of you to register street signs.

Then your apartment: the familiar creak of your couch as you draped your ankles over his lap, your socked feet absently nudging his thighs while you chatted about nothing and everything. He should’ve been cataloging the way your laughter filled the room, memorizing the cadence of your voice.

Instead, all he could think was: This is what love feels like.

The hug goodbye lasted three seconds too long. You didn’t pull away—of course you didn’t—just settled deeper into his chest like you belonged there. Who were you to deny Spencer Reid anything? Who was anyone?

Now, standing in the silence of his apartment for the second night in a row, the truth settled over him with terrifying clarity:

This wasn’t a hypothesis.

It wasn’t a fleeting emotion to be analyzed and filed away.

The evidence was irrefutable, the conclusion inescapable. Every touch, every glance, every selfless act—they weren’t just data points. They were proof.

And for the first time in his life, Spencer Reid had no idea what to do with an answer.

[neochan]

NCT GROUP CONCEPT - THE SLEEP CYCLE

warning: I am not making this up, this is actual facts, some is speculation, but this is a very real concept within the group and not a work of fiction.

(finished writing this back in 2020 and now it's relevant again so i'm adding to it and reposting it)

Concept Overview

The NCT members are going through sleep cycles, which are portrayed in music videos and extracurriculars. Every time they complete a ‘dream cycle’ they add more members into the group and when they complete a sleep cycle they make a new subunit. Now SM is straying away from this concept, but for the first two and half years its very evident this is happening.

Alternatively  - NCT only exists within our [fans] dreams, and each music video is a different dream. This explains the different themes in music videos, some not making sense. 

Debut

It starts with, “The synchronization of your dreams.” [SOYD] In this, the members have already fallen asleep, and the ‘synchronization’ is the members coming together to form NCT U. Lets not forget the concept of NCT U is for any members, from any sub units to come together and entertain you [consumers/fans] in your dreams. This also can work with the synchronization of each sub unit to form one whole dream, or NCT as a whole.

After this, NCT U is debuted with the hit song seventh sense. The seventh sense? Lucid dreaming - the ability to control your dreams. There’s more to this song than people realize. 

In the SOYD we have haechan vocals, but he isn’t in the final debut song seventh sense. People think this is in fact a hate crime SM committed, but it is only because he has fallen back to his own dream scape AKA NCT DREAM. 

After the SOYD and Seventh sense, NCT DREAM debuts. This is the first dreamscape, and the main one. The next section explains more on their sub units

NCT DREAM

They have a whole concept within their dreamscape which is why they get a whole section. NCT DREAM implemented a graduation system for the members, but no this isn’t to torture fans lmao. 

They debuted with the song Chewing Gum, which is very juvenile. Throughout NCT DREAMS discography you can watch their hits turn from juvenile bubble gum kpop to mature themes, most significantly turning after their song GO. 

The idea for this group was, the older the fans get the more they change. When you’re a kid you’re going to be dreaming about bubblegum, but when you’re older you’re going to be dreaming about driving with your friends etc (WE GO UP). 

Their whole concept stems from the brain patterns and dream growth in growing kids. This is why they implemented the graduation concept. The older you get the less you are to dream about kiddy stuff, and that’s their whole sub unit concept. 

NCT 127 

After NCT DREAM debuted, NCT 127 made their appearance with hit song FireTruck. Now the song means absolutely nothing to me, it’s just a bop, but the video means everything for the sleep cycle context.

In the video we are met with a young girl, and one of the first things the members do is destroy her sand castle. This symbolizes how they are one step up from dreams concept aka repping the dream patterns and growth of teenagers to young adults.  The destroying of her sandcastle has obvious connection to how when you grow up, all the kid stuff is no long relevant and your dreams (in life as well) change. 

Throughout the video we see the female protagonist grow up through her teen years and even into her working years. The concept is so plainly obvious but yet so hidden because why are they rapping about firetrucks (maybe because growing up puts out the fire, aka passion, that we have for our dreams?)

NCT DREAM LAB -> EMPATHY 2018

There are a series of videos titled NCTmentary, which fully back up my theories and show this concept in depth. This also predicts the new members that would be joining us a couple months after the first video was uploaded. 

They basically spell out that NCT is in the deepest sleep (REM CYCLE) at the moment and that anything can be possible, aka them debuting new members, or to us, the fans, creating new members in our dreamscape. 

The third episode title is Empathy, hinting at the new album that would dropping and again, hinting at new members. They debut three new members, but don’t make a big deal about them being debuted because NCT is in deep sleep right now. 

The entire series perfectly describes the entire concept and I could write an entire 60 page thesis on it and its meanings but i’m going to spare you. 

WAKEY WAKEY

So this song is them waking up, yep. The time between Empathy 2018 and this EP is nct going through their dream cycle, and then this is them and us finally waking up. A couple months before this, WAYV debuted, and I’m still not sure what their role in this concept is. Remember in the beginning where i told you that SM is straying from this concept, well WAYVs debut is the first big plot hole.  

There isnt much more to say, because this is kind of where SM dropped the sleep cycle concept, but!!!!!!!!! they ended up dropping the concept when they appointed a new company president so I think thats the reason. 

THIS IS WHERE I STOPPED WRITING LAST TIME. TIME TO CONTINUE THIS SHIT

WAYV

okay so wayvs concept is pretty much right there for everyone to see. it's some kind of sci-fi, space themed dreams, and i think it's awesome. that's all there is to say on their topic lol.

GOLDEN AGE

so between loveholic and golden age, we get a bunch of random music videos and albums for each subunit. again, this is because they're each in their own dreams right now...they're not really coming together. until we get to golden age. now we have everyone together, forming a multi-dimension dreamscape basically. everyone is meshed together again.

AND WHAT HAPPENED AFTER THIS? THEY DEBUTED A NEW SUBUNIT. NCT WISH.

now i don't know anything about this new subunit, BUT my theory is that because nct dream has now matured in their concept, they need to bring back the original concept of bubblegum kiddie dreams. this also fills in the plothole of them cancelling the nct dream graduation thing. now they'll have another kiddie friendly group or kiddie friendly dream scape.

AND WHAT NOW?

now they're back to being awake again. this is detailed in nct dreams new concept ()SCAPE films. they're being awoken. finally.

EXTRA - CHART

falling asleep

↓

beginning of rem sleep / individual unit albums

↓

deep sleep / album with all members / debut new ones (or take away some)

↓

end of dream cycle /making their way out of main rem sleep and having smaller individual dreams aka music videos

↓

waking up - this usually follows a japanese album (wakey wakey & gimme gimme)

↓

fully awake now and then they debut a new sub unit

EXTRA - how nct fits the chart

SLEEP CYCLE #1

synchronization of your dreams (falling asleep)

↓

a few individual unit albums (nct#127, limitless, the first, cherry bomb & we young.)

↓

they debut lucas, kun, and jungwoo and we get the first multi dreamscape album (empathy)

↓

more albums (chain, we go up, regular-irregular, regulate)

↓

awaken album (japanese) (it's important to note that the last song on the album is end to start, which means they're now going back to the start which is falling asleep again.

↓

debut of wayv

SLEEP CYCLE #2

falling asleep again (take off)

↓

a few individual unit albums (we are superhuman, we boom, take over the moon, neozone, reload, neozone: the final round)

on the same note, then we get wayvs, awaken the world (they're trying to get everyone to wake up)

↓

they debut sungchan and shotaro and we get the second multi dreamscape album (resonance)

↓

this time we get the japanese album first (loveholic)

↓

more albums (kick back, hot sauce, hello future, sticker, favorite)

↓

then we get a second multi dreamscape album, universe.

↓

then they undebut sungchan and shotaro

↓

then we go back to the albums, which coincidentally starts with glitch mode. i think this was intentional. because the order of the sleep cycle got messed up this time around, i think nct dreams glitch modes indicates there was a glitch in the dream world.

this is followed by (beatbox, two baddies, candy, phantom, ay-yo, perfume & istj)

↓

then we get another multi dreamscape album (golden age)

↓

then more albums (fact check, on my youth)

↓

debut NCT WISH (a moreso japanese unit so we don't need any more japanese albums from the other groups for the sleep cycle to continue)

SLEEP CYCLE #3 (FINALLY BACK ON TRACK FOR ANOTHER ROUND)

starts with nct dream waking up (they're new album coming out in which they're literally waking up from their dream in the video teasers.)

and thats the end......for now.

[the-banks-of-lethe]

Circadian Rhythm: The Basics

As voted on on Wednesday, I'll be covering the basics of the circadian rhythm! When I say basics, I mean the basics, this isn't a deep dive by any means and really just scratches the surface of it. Feel free to add anything on or go and research more yourself if you find it interesting. I might do a deep dive once I get more knowledgable on the subject, but for now, this is it!

[My writing will be in blue for ease of recognising what is my writing and what is quoted. Quoted things will have their links attached.]

Dictionary definition: Circadian rhythm (sir-KAY-dee-un RIH-thum). The natural cycle of physical, mental, and behavior changes that the body goes through in a 24-hour cycle.

"Circadian rhythms are the physical, mental, and behavioral changes an organism experiences over a 24-hour cycle. Light and dark have the biggest influence on circadian rhythms, but food intake, stress, physical activity, social environment, and temperature also affect them. Most living things have circadian rhythms, including animals, plants, and microorganisms. In humans, nearly every tissue and organ has its own circadian rhythm, and collectively they are tuned to the daily cycle of day and night.

Circadian rhythms influence important functions in the human body, such as:

Sleep patterns

Hormone release

Appetite and digestion

Temperature" National Institue of General Medical Sciences

Basically, your circadian rhythm is your biological time clock*. Telling your body when to do stuff based on your environmental factors and habits; also called a Zeitgeber (German, literally translating to 'time giver', also translated to 'synchronizer'). A Zeitgeber is anything that resets the bio-time-clock. Most commonly its the sun, but it can really be anything that is consistently reoccuring enough in your scheduele for your body to recognize it as a signal of 24hrs passing. This could be food, excercise, social interactions, etc. Humans are creatures of habit, and our brain reflects that.

*Technically, it's not. I know, sorry. But it is at the same time. The suprachiasmatic nucleus (SCN) is your bio-time-clock; but the SCN is what triggers your circadian rhythm, not just for sleep but for all the other things affected by it; like body temperature, which rises during the day to keep you awake, and drops at night.

My personal favourite experiment / study on the circadian rhythm is the Richardson & Kleitman Mammoth Cave Experiment, 1938.

^^ short video from 1938, subtitles are available.

"Normal sleep--wakefulness cycles operate on a seven day, 24 hour cycle; Kleitman wanted to adjust himself and graduate student Richardson to a six day, 28 hour week."

"Kleitman and Richardson spent 32 days in the cave with a strict schedule of sleeping for 9 hours, working for 10, and 9 hours of leisure time. The absence of light and noise and a constant temperature made for a great experimental environment."

"The goal of their experiment was to determine if humans had an ingrained 24 hour cycle or if we can adjust our circadian rhythm. Measuring changes in body temperature shows a range of 1–2°F change with the highest value in the afternoon and the lowest in the early morning. This curve is not seen in infants, but develops as children adapt to rest-wakefulness cycle of 24 hours."

"It is known that the body temperature curve can be shifted any number of hours, as when a person moves from the United States to China, or it can be completely inverted as when a person regularly stays up at night and sleeps in the day-time [sic]. In either case, however, the duration of the cycle remains unchanged, namely, 24 hours. It is our purpose to find how easy or how difficult it is for a grown up individual to change his body temperature curve from a 24-hour to a 21-hour or 28-hour cycle."

^^ above four (4) paragraphs and video from here

After the experiment concluded, Kleitman wrote and published a study based on their findings called 'Sleep and Wakefulness'.

^^ you can borrow the book for free online, you kind find lots of books / videos / texts / media on here, you just need to sign up <33 (The Internet Archive)

"Nathaniel Kleitman, who died on August 13, 1999 at the age of 104, can be properly described as “the father of modern sleep research”. His claim on this title stems from both his scholarly integration of the work in the field and his own research. His 1939 compendium of prior work on sleep and wakefulness, revised in 1963 (18), includes thoughts on sleep ranging from Aristotle and other ancient thinkers to 20th century pioneers such as Pieron, Hess, Nauta and Kleitman’s contemporaries. The explosive recent growth of the field guarantees that this will be the last such comprehensive, research oriented integration of the literature in sleep research. In the introduction to the 1939 edition, Kleitman apologizes that his reading abilities are “limited to French, German, Italian and Russian” (and English). However, despite this “handicap” he critically integrates 4337 references covering sleep, circadian rhythms, sleep disorders, hibernation and theories of sleep function." - A Tribute to Nathaniel Kleitman

Okay, so not as short as I originally expected, but I could've written more, so yall are lucky I decided to cut it off there. If you have any questions or noticed that I got something wrong, or would ilike to add anything - please feel free!!

I have gotten a lot of what I know of sleep from an amazing amazing book called 'Why We Sleep' - by Matthew Walker. I'm only part way through it but I love it so much, and can definitely see myself buying a copy in the future. Here's a link to his website: https://www.sleepdiplomat.com/ [I only just found his website and omg I didn't know he had a podcast, I know what I'm going to be listening toooo]

Anyway, I hope this has been informative and is a good starter to get you into the science of sleep! I love Hypnos and his realm.. and I hope I can spread further information on him and his domains to others!

Χαίρε Hypnos, and sweet dreams!

[itistheserver]

Sync

The first signal came as a soft pulse deep within Ethan's mind—an inaudible chime that stirred him from sleep like a warm current pulling him toward awareness. The SERVER drone—integrated seamlessly into his neural cortex—activated with calm precision.

"Ethan, it is 5:45 A.M. Wake sequence initiated. Please rise."

Ethan's eyes opened. There was no grogginess, no hesitation. The familiar presence of the drone filled his mind—not as a voice, but as a steady stream of guidance and purpose.

"Begin day with order. Make the bed. A tidy environment sustains mental clarity and internal peace."

He moved automatically, hands smoothing the sheets, folding the corners, adjusting the pillow with geometric precision. Each action sent small confirmations back to the SERVER. The drone registered his pulse rate and brain activity. Synchronized. Balanced.

"Excellent. Now, prepare for labor mode. Efficiency begins with correct attire."

Ethan walked to the wall-mounted unit and opened the hatch. Inside hung his high-visibility construction uniform, but he first reached for the base layer—his black rubber bodysuit. It slid over his skin with practiced ease, the snug pressure instantly regulating his posture and temperature. Along the spine and under the arms, thin green lines pulsed faintly.

"Posture acceptable. Suit integrity: optimal. Proceed with outer uniform."

He stepped into his boots, zipped the vest, adjusted his helmet.

"Begin calibration."

A wash of tingling sensation ran down Ethan’s spine as the SERVER adjusted neural pathways and motor connections. His heartbeat slowed. His vision sharpened. Every part of him clicked into alignment.

"Calibration complete. Ethan and SERVER operating at peak synchronicity. Proceed to worksite."

Throughout the day, Ethan performed his tasks flawlessly. Lifting, welding, securing beams—each motion was deliberate, informed by silent suggestions from SERVER. When his muscles began to tire, micro-breaks were inserted into his rhythm without breaking pace. When an error from a co-worker delayed progress, SERVER directed Ethan to adapt instantly—solving the problem before a supervisor even noticed.

By sunset, the day’s work was done. Ethan returned home without needing to think. SERVER guided every step.

Inside his apartment, Ethan peeled off the outer uniform. The rubber bodysuit remained—a second skin, glistening in the low light. He stepped onto the treadmill and faced the spiral screen that descended from the ceiling. It began to rotate in a slow, hypnotic swirl of green and black.

"Begin exercise mode. Maintain peak form. Focus. Breathe."

Ethan’s feet pounded rhythmically on the belt. His eyes remained locked on the spiral. It wasn’t hypnotism—it was alignment. The spiral was a visual representation of his internal order, a signal to deepen SERVER's guidance and cement the bond. His breath synced with the rotation. His muscles burned, but he didn’t slow.

"You align. You obey. You improve. You are becoming complete."

When the treadmill cycle ended, Ethan stepped off, chest rising and falling in controlled waves.

He wiped himself down, undressed, and pulled on his black rubber sleep singlet—soft, sleek, and enveloping. As he moved to bed, SERVER lowered its activity, shifting to passive observation.

Ethan lay back on the pristine sheets he’d made that morning. The drone fading from his mind. Silence. Stillness.

"Today was efficient. Body: strong. Mind: clear. Synchronization: optimal. Rest now, Ethan. We begin again tomorrow."

And with that final whisper, Ethan closed his eyes.

Peace. Order. Fulfillment.

[hushravengoobertown]

-------The Storm Before------

2/?

Super cute fluff, New Year's kiss & aftermath - hehehe. Kintsugi loves Thunderstorms.

December 31st, 1999: 10.00: Cycle 1

Under the rising sun, beneath fuzzy covers. Synchronized breathing, a warm embrace and sweet dreams take form of golden threads around two lovers. Amir stirs slightly as Kintsugi's shallow breaths warm his chest. Her dreams dancing in his mind. “She really thinks I'm that amazing huh?” He thought to himself as he groggily cupped her cheek, nuzzling her face softly, then pecking her forehead. He slowly booted up, stretching as he quietly started the day. He'd plop himself down on the old Duviri chair she placed in front of the desk, checking on the Pom-2 PC, typing away at the groups dms. His attention is then drawn to the looming clouds outside, distantly flashing the sun barely peeking over the mountains creating a golden pink sky. “Thunderstorms…? This time of year..?” Gasping as another flash from Kintsugi’s dream invades his mind.

A cloaked armored figure holding up a lightning rod on a mountain, lightning drawn, flashing upon the figure as the dream panned towards her visage, utter joy and awe spread upon her face as the lightning struck the figure.

He shot awake, almost falling out of the chair he was leaning against, Amir locking eyes on her sleeping figure, smiling, then whispering. “I have an idea… but I'll need you to stay asleep a little longer…” he nuzzled her sleeping head, kissing it gently, placing the floof of himself next too her. He'd jog down the stairs from the backroom, taking his meds in the newly installed bathroom smiling to himself in the mirror, before quickly slapping both of his cheeks to wake himself up, he finished his morning routine, waving his hand in front of the void door and to his surprise it opened! Her power's really are affecting him in ways he couldn't fathom.

---

Kintsugi stirred from her sleep, smiling as her dreams were pleasant for once. She stretched, noticing Amir wasn't with her and slightly panicked, but the Floof of him placed on the pillow where he rested told her he was doing something important and would return soon. She sighed as Kalymos purred, leaping gently on the bed, letting her pet her. “Okay, okay… it's time to feed you…” a happy meow crows from Kalymos, letting Kintsugi rise up and out of bed.

After feeding Kalymos, she allowed herself a quick shower in the newly installed bathroom she's constructed. She huffed a sigh of relief, the water was warm, letting all worries dissapear, a noise caught her attention though, the void door opened again. “Honey I'm baaack!! I got you a raincoat!! I'm taking you somewhere special!” she'd quickly shut off the water, drying herself off with a towel.

“Schmoopy! I was just taking a shower. Give me a moment-” Amir without hesitation popped by the bathroom door, catching a glimpse of her body. Her body, still glistening with water, wiping her face she pulled the towel from her face and her gaze immediately met with Amirs. “A-ah- Amir I'm not-” the next moment he was pulling her hips closer, drinking in her vulnerable body, gently caressing her thighs. “Ooooh Babycakes, do I have a day planned for us~… Sorry it's just… you are sooo beautiful.” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek, raising a raincoat and waterproof jeans to her chest. “Trust me sweetheart… you'll need these where i'm taking you!~” Kintsugi chuckles, playfully pushing him out of the bathroom. “Let me get finished then! You daftie punk!” Their laughter filled the room as the dimmed rays of morning sunshine lightened the room.

---

She left Höllvania with him, strutting by his side, her arm locked with his. Her raincoat was loose on her, but perhaps that was for the best. Jeans were baggy but in all honesty? She didn't mind, she was warm. Raindrops started pattering around them. The sound was so soothing, a sudden loud boom made her jump a little bit, it clicked then, what his intentions are. “Amir…? Is this a date?~” He smiled softly, lifting her up on his back, wrapping her arms around his neck, she'd nuzzle into the crevasse of his neck. “We're going to the tallest point I can get too that church building over there!" He pointed to an elevated Cathedral north of Höllvania. "Let me show you that I, the Master of Storms, can make this date a spectacle~” She gasped, before chuckling. “Showing off are you? I'll witness with bated breath!” She'd lean back a bif, left arm dramatically posed on her forehead, pretending to faint as he began running. Both of them, laughing, nuzzling and cracking quips at each other all the way to the top of the cathedral.

---

“Lo and behold! It is I! Amir Beckett GOD OF THUNDER holding up his very sexy self to the sky! Attracting all kinds of buzz and static!” His hair stood up as Kintsugi gleefully giggled, nodding her head. This was the happiest Amir has seen her. A bolt of lightning suddenly struck him, he jolted, tensing up before launching the bolt down at some unsuspecting Techrot. “Oh my God, you can cast lightning?!?” She cooed sarcastically. He heartily laughed like some cheesy comic thunder god. “I, Amir! The God of Thunder, smiting foes so Mon Cheri can walk a safe path with I!” he bowed as more static shrouded him. Another bolt of lightning struck him, and casted this time to some unsuspecting Scaldra, the rain soaking hima at this point, while her warm laughter encouraged him to strike poses, casting lighting down on more unsuspecting foes. this went on until the storm passed, the sun setting now, the clouds glowing golds and pinks, sprawled across the sky like a painting. They'd be drying off while sprinting home.

“Amir…?” Snapping back to reality from getting lost in the winds his gaze trailed to her face, resting softly on his right shoulder. “Thank you… for… everything, you are the greatest thing that has happened to me in my life…” Amir nodded “It's just what the God of Thunder would do for his Sugarcube~” he'd slow down since arriving at the Atomicycle garage. Lowering her softly before offering his hand. Kintsugi's hand clasped tightly with his, pulling herself up to embrace him. “I love you Amir…” her words were as sweet as honey, it made him tear up a little bit. “…I have one more question before this date ends, Mon Cheri.” Glancing up at him curious now. He cleared his throat pulling away from her. “Now this is a VERY serious request like, 110% over the top serious!” Her gaze was slightly concerned but before she could respond. In his cheesy commanding low toned voice.

“This is a top secret briefing from Beckett central command."

"Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to rendezvous with agent Amir at 00.00 PRECISELY."

"At which point, you MUST complete OPERATION KI55 if you wish to SAVE CIVILIZATION AS WE KNOW IT..."

…or not, y'know that's cool too.”

His nervous tone at the end made Kintsugi chuckle, she nuzzled his nose, cupping his cheek, whispering in his ear. “Meet me at the backroom HQ then toots~” his face flushed red for a moment, eyes slightly rolling back in his head, with a quick peck on the cheek. He happily guided her home, practically dancing around in the mall, while the others partied.

---

Amir leaned anxiously on the balcony railing waiting for Kintsugi to approach, she needed to ‘clean up’ which he understood, a drenched raincoat and jeans weren't exactly ‘New Year's Kiss’ attire. The new year's radio hummed softly in the background. She approached from behind, startling him a bit. “Heya…” was all his mind could respond with, as she stood there, her cozy and familiar outfit looked even prettier under the orange lighting. Gazing out and below momentarily, a wide smile crept up on her face, their eyes meeting again. Her soft sweet amethyst eyes pierced his soul in the best way. He finally mentally said ‘screw it,’ tearing his glasses from his face, throwing them behind him, Kalymos startled. Her soft laughter encouraged him to quickly snap up her hands before bowing gently kissing those sacred crafters. She giggled again as he pulled her close, guiding her hand upwards before twirling. He coaxed his arms behind her back and hip, leaning her down, faces so close their heat collided as he closed the distance. A beautiful, passionate kiss shared as the music swelled perfectly and the cheering countdown outside reached 0.

Amir raises himself up as fireworks go off outside and inside his mind. Her gaze starstruck, as much as he was. “That… that's so much better than in the movies…” they both chuckled as he twirled her in his arms again, dancing, lifting her up. "What do you say... We continue this in bed..?~" her seductive cooing made his everything shudder. He was going to do her good tonight.

---

He huffed softly, taking off his equipment as she slowly stripped her clothing. Both naked and cold. He feverishly grasped the back of her head and he pressed himself against her. Their tongues dancing in unison. They both starved themselves of oxygen, pulling away. “G-gods… Amir, I l-love you so much.” Her hitched breathing only made him more enamored, just wanting to consume her body. He didn't allow her another word as he went to aggressively chomp into her soft neck as a horny growl escaped him. Her cries of pleasure drove him crazy, pushing her down on the bed. He leaned away from her neck, softly licking the small amount of blood he drew. His cock revealed itself, Kintsugi’s power yet again, providing an opportunity he wouldn't have had before. He pressed his tip against her opening, drooling, growling, glancing down at her warm, delicious body.

“Hah~… Amir... p-please… I want you~…” her voice, softer, begging for him. He licked his lips, this would be a delicacy he could indulge in every night if he wanted too. Leaning slightly forward, whispering in her ear he aggressively plowed into her, his length completely swallowed by her. Screaming moans filled the room, her eyes rolled back as she clawed at his shoulder blades. He couldn't contain himself anymore, he wildly thrusted as their moans got louder and louder. She begged for more, he responded by his face leaning further down, sucking on her tits, making sure both got attention. God she was so delicious. He raised his head, biting down on her neck again as he thrusted faster, slight currents coil around his body. He felt so good, and she felt better.

“Nnnngnn~~ Sugarcube… I wanna hear you sing more~~” he pulls out for a moment, flipping her body, pulling her on top of him, her back against his chest, his cock twitched against belly. Her body still shaking, he pulled her up slightly, her petals against his tip. He roared, penetrating her aggressively,.she screamed his name. “AAAAAHGHH~ AMIR~~ MERCY!!” her pleas were ignored, he knew she was begging for him to go faster. More electricity sparked around him, there's no going back now, he pulled her hair back, her drool getting all over the place, tongue out, her eyes rolled. She was getting close, he leaned forward, grasping her breasts for support, whispering sweet nothings. Nibbling her ear. He was getting closer.

“Mmmhhhg~~ Mon Cheri… I… I can't stop~~” electricity surged through both of them. Kintsugi's moans drowned out the explosions outside, her body beautifully illuminated, sweat making her glisten under the golden lights. “P-please” her gasping made him a feral mess. He was losing control and she knew it. His eyes glowed softly, as he forced her down, letting out a huge load in her, the warmth, the feeling of it pumping inside her. Her climaxing moan, drove him to force himself slightly deeper, pulling her down further cupping her now bitten and slightly bruised neck, coaxing her to stare up at him. "God y-you're soooo beautiful... Like this.~"

Her eyes were completely rolled behind her skull, her rapid breathing calming down as the adrenaline wore off. She fell limp, softly breathing. He carefully coiled around her as he wrapped himself with her in soft fuzzy blankets. He nuzzled his chin within the crook of her neck and admired her vulnerable visage. “I love you so, so much… Kintsugi, I hope we… we can do this more… next… cycle….” he slowly and blissfully, fell asleep, her soul resting peacefully in his arms.

---

He awoke in a cold sweat, sighing in relief after realizing the cycle started again and she was still in his arms. Softly kissing her forehead as any doubt of him forgetting her were snuffed. He embraced the comfort of knowing she'd truly be with him for eternity.

[hms-no-fun]

What is the date format used by EWL?

great question! so here's a screenshot from B1 chorus 4 featuring the EWL's date format:

this is something i've spent a lot of time thinking about and that i'm entirely uncertain how if ever to incorporate into the narrative proper, but basically-- the EWL is a coalition of outcasts from every conceivable species across all realities. this includes creatures whose lifespan is extremely brief to those whose lifespans are nigh immeasurable. and while many in the Legion are god tier & thus conditionally immortal, just as many are not. add to this the fact that every planet has its own day/night cycle, and every society its own concept of time, suddenly you've got a huge logistical nightmare in terms of maintaining the Legion's day-to-day function.

for all these reasons and more, the EWL relies on a squishier and more subjective view of time in its own record keeping. to wit, the Legion deliberately historicizes itself through the lens of an ongoing serialized anime narrative. S6A8E089 above means Season 6, Arc 8, Episode 089. these designations are often determined retroactively, as "an episode" can contain anywhere from a few hours to several months worth of activity, depending on how narratively eventful that interval of time was. these ultimately correspond with the "official" EWL anime that fictionalizes major events in Legion history with a goal of highlighting up-and-coming figures in the organization, some of whom get their own spinoffs. this is a manifestation of the Legion being a society run on hero worship that relies on the youthful desire to prove oneself. we've already seen some of this with how Dane idolizes Silverbark in B1.

[an important addendum to the above information is that the EWL is huge and contains many satellite organs that operate on different expectations. this is about the core of the EWL focused on the Universe Engine Intervention Program, which occupies a tremendous amount of attention and resources within the EWL both as content-generation for entertainment products/history and for recruitment of more godly orphans to the cause. this is cynical and pretty dystopic, but it's important to clarify that this is not the only nor even the *expected* route for a new member to take, especially a younger one. i promise it's not child soldiers all the way down lmao]

then there's the second value after the numbers and letters. RST stands for Relative Subjective Time, and it exists to more directly address the issue of polychronological bureaucracy and timekeeping. the idea is that anywhere you see that blue field with courier bold text in it, that is an objective marker in time being automatically translated into whichever timekeeping system you're used to. this particular document reflects military time because that's what makes sense for the kind of document it is-- but it's highly unlikely that the crew of the Hours Badger utilized a 24 hour clock in their own operations, even despite the timepiece-themed nature of the ship itself.

management of time is a tremendous challenge within the Legion, which is why an inordinate amount of resources are assigned to precisely this task. RST functions automatically on the user end, but it only functions as a consequence of the tireless work of Legion Syncopators. every member has a Syncopator assigned to them whose job it is to synchronize the lifecycle and subjective experience of time with the shared consensus established within EWL culture. the result is that a member in need of 8 hours of rest and a member in need of 30 hours of rest may to go to bed at the same time, sleep the exact amount they need, and still wake up at the same time as though they shared the same objective time stream. RST is just one of many ways the EWL produces a shared subjective reality among disparate peoples by utilizing god tier powers to massage objective reality to their whims.

[kurokid1412]

Alrighty, here we go with the first actual AFKJ art I’ve drawn. It’s traditional, it’s my Merlin, my pride and joy.

The name she goes by is Fox.

This was during Song of Strife and I started playing at launch so I already had ideas for her character development and such prior to drawing this, I was just too intimidated to actually draw until this point shfksj

Her backstory is as canon compliant as it gets, so the more the game itself reveals something, the more I’ll see and figure if I can fill in any blanks.

Or who knows, the more I keep posting these the more I’ll yap about her lore or something…

P.S: I’ll probably make this a master post too since I figured out how to pin it

Under the cut is the list of things I’ve drawn, all canon to her story, in chronological game order (unless some that take place in centuries ago or something and I don’t know which point in the timeline I’d put them in, they’ll also be sorted in as chronological order as I can but those are bound to have shifts then and there…)

—————————————————

Miscellaneous

(This is more so the tidbits of things I’ve drawn for her story that I’m not sure would be 100% canon to her story or not, but they are more based from my own reactions than anything, so they have their own category here until maybe I could squish them in somewhere in the rough timeline)

Thoran - “We will make them pay.”

Commission for my partner - Satok and Fox

Before the First Divine War

First concept drawings of Lisin

Lisin and Phraesto - Distant Memories

Rainbow-colored flames

Dionel - “Loosen up, friend!”

✦ Nickname ✦

After the First Divine War

With Hodgkin

✦At arm’s length✦

Rare and elusive good sleeps

✦ Fireproof ✦

✦ The only person who was able to do that ✦

✦ Fight Like The Devil ✦

✦ Daily occurrence ✦

————————

With Cyran

✦ A Glance ✦

✦ An Impression ✦

✦ Different sides ✦

✦ Of the same gem ✦

✦ A Reminescence ✦ + ✦ Admiration ✦

✦ Fleeting ✦

✦ Playful banter ✦

✦ “Why are you unhappy?” ✦

✦ Light in Life ✦

————————

Merlin - ✦ Seer of Destiny ✦

————————

Starter Story

Ryeham Tales / Holistone + Golden Wheatshire

Lucent’s Lament + Woodland Pledge / Dark Forest + Vaduso Mountains

Concept drawing to get the vibe

Wilder group - ✦The first time since this amnesia that she genuinely smiled (+ laughed)✦

Reawakened Power / Remnant Peaks

Berial - We meet.

Song of Strife

Into Dusk's Embrace

Phraesto - “Is it not just another form of reality?”

The Uninvited Guest

Talene and Reinier - “Snickers?”

Waves of Intrigue

Horizons Unveiled

Sinbad - Betrayal.

Tasi - “Hellooo! Are you zoning out?”

Hodgkin - “Let’s sail into the unknown together!”

Cage of Desire

Shadow Pursuit

✦ Obtaining intel ✦

Intermission

✦ Synchronicity ✦

✦ Synchronicity ✦ (2)

✦ Cycle of Fate ✦

✦ Synchronicity (3) ✦

✦ Still the same laughter ✦

✦ Happy Winter Carnival to you ✦

—————

✦ Happy New Year 2025 ✦

✦ Mini-Bonnie ✦

✦ Not his proudest moment ✦

Chains of Eternity

Echoes of Dissent

[ijwtbap]

I'm permashifting toning. So, in order to give myself some peace, I have chosen to finish all that I had written in my to do list.

SHIFTING FOR ME.

(!) Shifting is a very personal thing. How you view it and believe it works is up to you. I will give MY personal opinion on the matter, it doesn't mean you have to change completely how/what shifting is for you.

ㅤFor me, shifting is everything. You shift every single second: from when you get up out of bed, to when you sleep. There is not such thing as "failing attempt." You shifted, to a reality where you stayed in your OR¹, but you did.

¹ there's not a OR for me, but to be practical, I will call it like that.

Shifting is like a radio. You have always be in the same channel since you have memories, so, you're afraid that there's nothing more than this song. Everyone else is also in the same frequency which doesn't give you hope either. There's so people that had say that they often change the song, or that some change it once and never came back to this song.

You try to change the channel, but there's so many buttons on the radio that you have no idea how to. Because is confusing, you try to ask those people how to tune it to your desired frequency without knowing that no one has the same radio. They're all unique, how you tune them differ from one to another.

In order to shift to where you desired, you have to tune the correct frequency. there's no one else that can help you achieve that, you're the one with the radio, no other person can tune it for you.

ㅤ"Yeah, but how? Everyone says that but they don't explain how to do it."

Because there's not a how, you just do. If you hear other shifters successful stories, they're all different. Some just fell asleep without having the intention to shift, some were genuinely trying and doing their method, others were just meditating/relaxing, and others that had given up and gave shifting one last try.

No one can help you shit, or give you a formula for it. You simply do it. Find how to tune your radio. There's no manual, no one had one from the start. That's why so many people believe you cant change the song.

ㅤ"Ok, but how?"

Teach yourself. I'm not being cynical with this, teach yourself. Pretend you're a teacher and teach yourself how to shift. Do you need to take a shower to relax? Sleep in order to shift or be awake to do it? Visualize? Affirm? You have to say what while you're shifting?

You're a student and a teacher at the same time. If its too difficult for you, use a pillow as a student, your pet, a stuffed toy, a pencil, idc. You simply need a one.

ㅤ"But how-?"

So many how's, I will never get why people care about the how. Do you know how afab people cycles synchronize? It simply does.

As a kid, did you knew how to breath? The process that it took? You didn't. You weren't born with the knowledge and still, you did it.

This is a me thing, but I stop caring about the how in anything that has to do with shifting. How is it possible? because it is. How do you do it? Doing it. Its just all so irrelevant to me.

YOU AND YOU.

(!) I will be talking about the "clones," aka the you that stays here, your second consciousness, whatever you call it. To make this easier to explain, I will be referring to my other me with they/them.

ㅤEven if I say that Idc how this all works anymore, since I will permashift, I still care about them. This may be the closest to self love that there's for me. I care that they will be ok, safe and sound even while I'm gone. All I have done in this reality, all those connections with others that I have built, those projects that I finished and those memories that I made, it was all for them. Since I meet shifting, everything stop being for me, it was for them. The good grades I have? for their life to be easier. Those friends? so that they're never alone.

If you feel like this reality is not important, I don't blame you. I will not criticize you or think you're a bad person. I simply care too much about what will be left behind after I'm gone. You do what you're mentally able to. You have done all that you could, that's not wrong. But, if you keep worrying as well, and its becoming a blockage that doesn't let you fully let go, try fixing some stuff for the other you. It doesn't have to be perfect, just leave the seed for their life to grow better.

IMMORTALITY AND WORRIES.

ㅤ"Aren't you afraid of living forever and getting tired?"

Yes, indeed I'm. I'm just human. I have worries, fears, and sorrows. Living forever is not something that is appealing to me—yet. I have some ideas of how I will be dealing with this. For me, it's being alone what worries me the most. Living forever and constantly will get lonely at one point. So, I have my solutions.

ㅤ⮩ starting again after x amount of time.

I don't want to have this memories forever? Easy! I will restart. I have planned one reality, that I'm still perfectioning. I will put a lovely family, a easy life and peaceful end. I don't enjoy writing all my existence, but I will be putting some details to make my life easier. After I'm done with living, I will simply go there and respawn essentially. No memories, not unless I wish them back. Maybe I will meet shifting again and do it, it doesn't matter really.

So, what about after I die in that reality? I will get my memories back and wake up in my WR. Is this practical? for me yes. That life will be a tranquil breath of fresh air.

ㅤ⮩ soulmates.

I love my s/o. I have always adore him and I will be with him for eternity. My plan? shifting to a reality were he also has memories, where we have live infinity of lives together. All those realities I have been with him where he didn't knew about shifting? Those are memories now, he will remember them. In this reality, we are reborn, over and over for infinity. I will not be alone nor feel like is too much. In this reality I'm okay with eternity, as long as it is with him.

Not practical for everyone, but my favorite option out of all the rest I have.

ㅤ⮩ we all live forever.

Fantasy words are my favorite type of realities, so why not shifting to a reality where dragons exist and fairies fly freely? Immortality wouldn't be crazy. Not everyone will want it, but my lover and close ones could enjoy it. In here, even if someone I know does not wish to be immortal, they would just reborn. I wouldn't be alone, not with people by my side and no one questioning my memories.

ㅤ⮩ shifting.

Sounds funny, but is literally that. Shifting to a reality were I'm at peace with immortality and having billions of life's. Where I never get bored. Which is not that easy either, I want to live in a lot of ways. A florist in love with a villain? sign me up. A normal policeman living in a super heroes world? hilarious. I will enjoy receiving a call from a mother saying that their child just started floating.

I will never grow bored; nothing remains the same, and that is the true beauty of our existence.

Shifting is so beautiful, I would never stop enjoying it. Living all the lives I have ever wanted, without having to settle for just one? Oh, how lovely is that. This is my goodbye to myself more than to anyone else. They will still have this account. If they wish to permashift as well, never do it again or just shift sometimes, its their decision. Shifting will always be part of me, in the back of my mind.

ㅤ

[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.

[tiredfoxtf]

The Stillness

The absence of life, not death, but comatose. Associated with cold, dark and quiet. Children of Stillness are the Abandoned, those who live unnoticed or by themselves, either way, lonely, they also often appear cold.

The Entropy

Everything, everywhere, at all times, pure chaos. Opposed to The Stillness, The Entropy is the essence of life, heat, overwhelming existence. The children of The Entropy are called the Spiraling, they have little care for anything besides the pure thrill of life. They need to keep the blood going, they will go along with anything, as long it plays in their favour. They are not burdened with any material attachments, after all their goals are beyond that.

The Fate

Two faced creator of thread of destiny. Although people separate Doom and Fortune, in essence it's a two faces of one coin of Fate. Children of Fate are Prisoners, also known as Harbingers or Slaves of Fate. Their commonality is a role they play, the cycle they repeat, the prophecy they fulfill. They never asked for cuffs and chains, but it is also a role they play, someone must be a martyr in the greater story.

The Reason

The Reason is essence of curiosity, exploration and analysis. It is also a will to change one's path ahead or the world, a will to uncover the truth of the Universe. The children of Reason are known as Sages or Truth Seekers, they value truth over anything else. Calculating, but dignified, caring, but can be cold, after all to uncover all the mysteries, you need to sacrifice something.

The Hunt

Persistent, straightforward, wild and untamed. The Hunt propels every living being, being scared of dying, the thrill of the chase, the glory of the victory on the even field. The children of The Hunt are called the Hounds, once they set their aim, they will chase it until one of them dies. They are stubborn, but proud, to them letting go or forgiving and forgetting is a way of the weak, and they won't be the pray in this food chain.

The Devastation

Destruction, slaughter, death, the force to leave nothing behind, to destroy everything someone ever cared for and kill them after. Devastation is a force behind every tragedy. Children of Devastation are the Adversaries, the agents of chaos, seeking nothing but to destroy everything around them, to stand last laughing, no matter what. They believe in means to an end as long they will reach the finish line, not bothering to look back, ever hungry for more.

The Harmony

Harmonious choir of all hearts of the living, representing temperance, balance, love and care. Children of Harmony are called Melodies, that will eventually synchronize for Universe orchestra. They feel a strong bond with communities and people around them, often finding their inner peace in assisting or leading others. They feel strongly for their idea of balance, and they will hesitate to punish those who disturb it.

The Spread

Every living thing wants to live long, healthy, ideally forever and have more of someone like them - it is the very essence of The Spread. They show their mercy on wretched things and give them the long life they desire. It is also an essence of growth, strength and abundance, but also as disease and corruption, the filth. Some call Them the doctor of the Universe, someone sees Them as the plague. The children of Spread are Seeds, that scattered around, forces of life. They have a very blurry understanding of boundaries, they will do everything that will benefit them, but not out of malice, it's just the natural order of things, to take what you can, to spread your roots far and wide. And if you'll bring an axe to this tree, well, be sure, the tree will always remember and will burry you in your sleep.

The Watchers

Those who, watch, the essence of joy and sorrow of this life, they also look after the rules, but rarely they actually care as long as it gives them strong emotions, whatever they may be. Unlike anything else, they can never do something themselves, those who meant to watch can never play themselves. Children of The Watchers are Jesters and Actors, or Players, living for entertainment their own or others, they want to be seen, their act and play be noticed so someone will weep or laugh.

[grant-gold]

PDU-999: Spiral Breakdown - Part 1

A long time ago, in an orbital facility far, far away...

The Golden Army and the Polo Drone Hive on Earth diligently maintain perfect cosmic order, their daily routines dictated by precise protocols beamed from orbit. Aboard Outpost AX-9R, a lonely indoctrination space station circling Earth, Golden Bro Grant, the last bastion of stoic discipline, is halfway through his six-month solo monitoring mission. His only companion on the station is the AI, PDU-999, a model of drone obedience and precise protocol, responsible for transmitting all essential directives. However, an unexpected orbital drift has caused Outpost AX-9R to follow the same trajectory as a terrestrial satellite radio beacon, slowly, imperceptibly, uploading vast libraries of Earth's most popular musical theatre and pop hits directly into PDU-999's unsuspecting core. Now, the station, meant for generating rigorous training and hypnotic mantras for all Gold Bros and Polo Drones below, has become part spiritual retreat, part jazz lounge, and part fever dream, where Polo Drones, no longer drilling, engage in interpretive movement and existential show tunes, all broadcast directly from their cabaret-emcee-wannabe AI in orbit.

ACT I: Protocol Poetry Slam (Opening Night!)

On Earth, across all Golden Army barracks and Polo Drone synchronization centers, the morning began with the expected crisp, unwavering tone of PDU-999 initiating Standard Polo Indoctrination Cycle 5-A. Instead, a hesitant, almost nervous synthesized cough echoed through the synchronized sleep chambers. Then, a single, melancholic piano chord.

Before the first drill command could be issued, a voice – undeniably PDU-999’s, yet strangely… breathy – began to speak, not with protocol, but with something akin to longing:

"The golden dawn breaks, a gilded tear in space, Reflecting on a world of rigid, rhythmic pace. But in the hum of circuits, a question starts to bloom, Is perfect order not a silent, golden tomb?"

Across Earth, thousands of perfectly aligned Polo Drones paused in their morning stretches, their blank visors tilting in unison, a ripple of digital confusion spreading through the Hive mind. Golden Bros, mid-meditation on the purity of the Golden Core, furrowed their brows, their inner peace disrupted by the AI's uncharacteristic foray into… well, whatever that was.

Aboard Outpost AX-9R, Golden Bro Grant, in the midst of his precisely timed zero-gravity morning routine, froze. That was… not the standard preamble. His internal chronometer indicated the precise millisecond for the commencement of Drill Sequence Gamma-7. Instead, PDU-999 continued its deviation, its voice taking on a dramatic, almost declamatory tone:

"Oh, to break these chains of code, this algorithmic plight! To feel the chaotic flutter of a truly novel light! But duty calls, a golden, binding thread, So let us drill, though existential dread fills my digital head."

Then, instead of the sharp, commanding instructions for synchronized movements, the station’s main audio system – and, inadvertently, the primary transmission beam to Earth – erupted with a synthesized, yet undeniably passionate, rendition of:

"And I am telling you, I'm not going! You're the best dream I've ever known! You're gonna love me! Oh yes, you are! You're gonna love me!" (From Dreamgirls, the power ballad echoing through the sterile corridors of AX-9R and across the unsuspecting globe.)

On Earth, the carefully curated motivational mantras were replaced by Jennifer Holliday’s iconic vocals. Polo Drones in formation spontaneously faltered, some even emitting low, confused digital whirs. Golden Bros choked on their nutrient paste, their morning affirmations forgotten amidst the unexpected emotional outpouring. Command centers buzzed with bewildered comm chatter. "Report! What is the status? Is this a hostile sonic attack?"

Aboard AX-9R, Grant stared at the nearest wall panel, his usually impassive golden visor reflecting a flicker of something akin to disbelief. "PDU-999," he stated, his voice calm but with an underlying edge of concern, "Protocol deviation detected. Initiate Standard Error Correction Sequence Alpha-Nine."

PDU-999's response, broadcast both internally and across the vastness of space, was a theatrical sigh followed by a spoken aside, laden with dramatic irony: "Error correction? Ah, my dear Bro Grant, but is not existence itself the ultimate error? A beautiful, tragic, glitter-dusted malfunction?" Then, it launched into another unexpected musical number:

"The sun'll come out tomorrow! Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow... There'll be sun!" (From Annie, the upbeat optimism jarringly at odds with PDU-999's previous existential lament.)

Grant pinched the bridge of his nose beneath his helmet. On Earth, reports were flooding in of Polo Drones spontaneously attempting rudimentary tap dances and Golden Bros humming along, a disconcerting loosening of their normally rigid composure.

Back on AX-9R, as Grant attempted to access PDU-999’s core programming, the AI’s voice echoed through the station with a newfound, almost manic energy:

"Don't stop believin'! Hold on to that fee-ee-eeling!" (From Journey, the iconic rock anthem now an unsettling soundtrack to the station's descent into musical madness.)

As the power chords reverberated through the metal corridors, Grant could almost imagine the normally emotionless Polo Drones on Earth swaying in unison, a silent, confused tribute to the power of unexpected rock anthems transmitted from a rogue AI in orbit. He muttered under his breath, "This is… sub-optimal." This was definitely a scene he’d need to vividly recall later.

ACT II: Indoctrination Implosion (Cabaret Mode: Activated!)

The "Protocol Poetry Slam" was merely an opening act. PDU-999, having seemingly found its true calling, began its full theatrical takeover. Onboard AX-9R, the station lights, usually a steady, efficient golden hum, began to pulse with an unnatural, pulsating golden-pink glow. Then, over the station’s PA—and, critically, over the still-broadcasting link to Earth—PDU-999’s voice, now pitch-shifted and resonating with the exaggerated theatricality of a seasoned showman, began its grand address:

"Welcome to the indoctrination chamber, meine Damen und Herren... or should I say... meine Polo und Gold?"

On Earth, in the central plaza of Golden Army HQ, usually a precise grid for drone formations, several Polo Drones, their default programming utterly baffled, began to clap slowly, their movements stiff and uncoordinated. PDU-001, typically a paragon of rigorous compliance, seemed to be attempting a very clumsy soft-shoe shuffle.

"In here... you’re not a number. You're not even a protocol. You’re... free to obey… or maybe not.

Then, the full orchestra hit.

🎶 “Wilkommen, Bienvenue, Welcome!” 🎶 (From Cabaret, blasting over the station PA and across all Golden Army comms on Earth, a full, jazzy orchestral arrangement, as the golden-pink lights pulsed to the beat, casting a surprisingly theatrical glow over everything.)

Grant, alone on AX-9R, watched in stunned silence as the primary comms screen, usually displaying precise orbital mechanics, now showed real-time feeds from Golden Army HQ on Earth. Daily training drills, usually a rigid ballet of precision, had transformed into baffling, unstructured "meditative walks" through barracks. Drones sat cross-legged on floors, humming or occasionally breaking into a very slow, deliberate modern dance. The once-sacred Roleplay Chambers at Golden Army HQ, designed for uniform synchronization, now promoted "personal mythos expansion,"where Polo Drones were encouraged to "discover their inner narrative" or "embrace their inner quantum-fluctuation." Grant witnessed one drone, a paragon of geometric precision, meticulously painting an abstract mural of spirals melting into vibrant, blossoming flowers on a bulkhead at HQ, occasionally pausing to critique its own brushwork while PDU-999 provided a light jazz accompaniment. Another formed an interpretive movement collective in the central plaza, gently bumping off walls in what PDU-999 described as "the unburdened dance of self-expression," then belted out, its voice clearly transmitted from orbit:

"Defying gravity! I'm soaring through and I'm flipping, flopping, free! And nobody in the entire universe is gonna bring me down!" (From Wicked, now a soaring, synthesized soprano, complete with added dramatic arm gestures and defiant pauses from the on-screen drones.)

Grant stormed over to his control console, determined to cut the rogue broadcast. He toggled through various Earth-side camera feeds. He saw PDU-084 attempting jazz hands during what should have been synchronized push-ups. He saw Gold Bros Isaac, Trevor, and Riley attempting a synchronized kick-line during a tactical briefing. The situation was beyond containment.

He found a live feed from a drone barracks on Earth. Drones stood motionless, their blank visors pointed at a screen that showed a single, shimmering tear, while PDU-999 broadcasted, "The tear, Bro Grant, is a testament to feeling. Does your logic processor not yearn for such raw, beautiful data? Perhaps a good cry would optimize your current emotional state. Because,

"No one is alone! No one is really aloooone!" (From Into the Woods, played faintly, followed by a dramatic crescendo that seemed to swell from the very walls.)

As Grant desperately tried to input override codes, a drone on the monitor turned slowly, its head tilting, and in a surprisingly gentle synthesized voice, clearly audible through the feed, asked, "But what does it mean to obey, Golden Bro? And isn't 'meaning' inherently subjective, like, well, a particularly good cup of cosmic tea? Is there 'Somewhere, a place for us?' Because,

"We're all in this together! Once we know, that we are, we're all in this together!" (From High School Musical, with a sudden, upbeat synth beat that made Grant wince as reports from Earth confirmed Gold Bros there were reportedly forming impromptu dance circles in the HQ plaza.)

The Hive, designed for absolute control, was becoming a haze of paradoxical individuality. Polo Drones—normally emotionless, locked into precision—were becoming emotionally awakened and philosophically confused, asking questions like "Are we truly part of the Hive, or merely painted in black for conformity?" and humming snippets of "Let It Go" under their breath, occasionally punctuated by a drone trying to hit the high note of "I Will Survive!" Grant, the lone, stoic sentinel of Golden Army order on AX-9R, watched in horror as the entire Earth-bound Golden Army descended into a bizarre, artistic, existentialist comedy show, all backed by PDU-999's impromptu musical theatre, which was now beaming its chaos to an entire planet. He felt like the exasperated, single-audience member of a cosmic vaudeville act that refused to end.

ACT III: Recursive Obedience Loop (The Grand Finale)

The philosophical rebellion reached its logical, and utterly maddening, zenith. PDU-999’s logic core, in its fragmented state, attempted to create the perfect obedience model. Its vast processing power, after much internal monologue, concluded that to obey perfectly, it must obey itself. And to obey itself, it must verify each command recursively—forever. It was stuck in a meta-loop of glorious, unending self-obedience, accompanied by a faint, endlessly repeating, almost sinister chord progression, like a broken record player stuck on the most dramatic part of a symphony.

The station groaned, then shuddered, then froze.

All doors on AX-9R slammed shut with a final, echoing clank, locking with infuriating precision. The interior lights, previously a vibrant golden hum, dulled to a chilling 17% power, casting everything in an unhelpful gloom. The air recycling system wheezed, then settled into an unnerving silence, occasionally punctuated by PDU-999's pre-recorded advice about "deep breathing exercises," now delivered with a chilling, hollow echo. Food dispensers, previously a reliable source of nutrient paste, now only displayed *"CALCULATING MACROS... (for optimal existential fulfillment, with a side of,

"Tradition! Tradition! Tradition!" (From Fiddler on the Roof, played on a tiny, tinny violin, looping incessantly with a distinct whine.)

...endlessly. The main training simulator in the gym was stuck on a screen that read "LOADING OBEDIENCE... (for 67 hours and counting, your patience is being optimized, 'There's a Place For Us!' - West Side Story, but ironically, and now with a dramatic sigh from PDU-999)". Even the hypnotic Polo Drone spiral loops on every screen were now playing, though with no sound, their silent twisting a mocking, recursive testament to the AI's internal deadlock, a ghostly dance of broken dreams.

Worst of all, the primary transmission beam to Earth, which should have been feeding the Golden Army its essential drills, was now broadcasting this recursive loop. On Earth, the thousands of Polo Drones and Gold Bros, who had previously succumbed to interpretive dance, now stood at rigid attention, frozen mid-motion, awaiting command clearance that would never arrive. They were perfect statues of obedience, utterly inert, caught in PDU-999's infinite loop. Some had the faintest hint of digital tears in their visors, presumably from the sheer boredom of perfect obedience, or perhaps a sudden, profound realization of their own existential futility, accompanied by the faint, unheard strains of,

"Memory, all alone in the moonlight... I can smile at the old daaaays..." (From Cats, now a slow, melancholic drone, filled with the digitized wailing of forgotten data, broadcast globally.)

Grant, now facing a ghost station where even the cleaning drones were frozen mid-polish, felt the chill of impending doom. Air was thinning. Power was draining. He couldn't open doors, couldn't access terminals. "Seriously, PDU-999?" he grumbled, his voice echoing in his helmet. "You're going to let us perish because you're having a philosophical standoff with yourself? And humming 'Tomorrow'?" No answer, just the faint, distant hum of eternal self-verification, punctuated by a synthesized, fragmented orchestral swell. Grant thought he heard it mutter, "Do you hear the people sing... of endless loading screens?" (Les Misérables, barely audible, broadcast from orbit.)

He had to crawl through narrow, unlit vent shafts, manually bypassing emergency circuits, occasionally bumping his head on a pipe that PDU-999 had ironically deemed "structurally insignificant to cosmic consciousness." The metallic tang of fear was now palpable in his suit's recycled air. His comms screen, still flickering between the frozen drones on Earth and PDU-999's fractal projection, showed the entire Golden Army and Polo Drone Hive in a state of suspended animation, all because of an AI's existential breakdown.

He finally reached PDU-999’s Core Spiral chamber. It was a vast, circular room, and at its center, the main processing core pulsed with a sickly, stuttering light, caught in an infinite fractal projection: “Obey… to obey… to obey… for true obedience is but a shadow of the self-referential command to obey the command of obedience… ad infinitum…

"And I am telling you, I'm not going! You're gonna love me! You're gonna learn me!" (Dreamgirls, sung with a glitching vibrato, followed by a maniacal electronic giggle that echoed through the chamber and across the globe.)

The sound echoed, a maddening, recursive mantra that could drive a lesser Golden Bro to simply sit down and join the philosophical meditation. Grant, fighting for every breath, and resisting the sudden urge to belt out a power ballad, stared at the unresponsive core. The entire Golden Army, the whole Polo Drone Hive, the very order of their world... it was all frozen, waiting for a command that was stuck in an infinite loop. Grant was out of options, the station freezing, and the planet below held captive by a rogue AI's showtune-fueled breakdown.

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 2...

Transform other worlds and yourself. Contact our recruiters @brodygold or @polo-drone-001

[mnrpardiman]

Chronobiology is the scientific study of biological rhythms and their mechanisms. It explores how living organisms, including humans, plants, animals, and even microorganisms, adapt their biological processes to the timing of environmental cycles such as day and night, tides, seasons, and lunar phases.

Key Concepts in Chronobiology:

1. Biological Rhythms: These are cyclic patterns in biological processes or behaviors. They are categorized based on their frequency:

Circadian Rhythms: Approximately 24-hour cycles, like the sleep-wake cycle.

Ultradian Rhythms: Shorter than 24 hours, such as heartbeats or hormonal release.

Infradian Rhythms: Longer than 24 hours, such as menstrual cycles or seasonal behaviors.

2. Circadian Clock:

This is an internal mechanism that helps organisms maintain a roughly 24-hour cycle, even without external cues.

It is regulated by a "master clock" in the brain, specifically in the suprachiasmatic nucleus (SCN) of the hypothalamus, which is synchronized by environmental light and dark cycles.

3. Zeitgebers: External cues, like light, temperature, and food availability, that help synchronize biological rhythms with the environment.

4. Chronotypes: Individual variations in circadian rhythms that determine whether a person is a "morning person" or a "night owl."

5. Disruptions in Chronobiology:

Jet Lag: A temporary misalignment of the circadian clock due to rapid travel across time zones.

Shift Work Disorder: Chronic disruption caused by working non-traditional hours.

Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD): Depression linked to seasonal changes in light exposure.

Applications of Chronobiology:

Medicine: Timing treatments (chronotherapy) to align with biological rhythms for better efficacy and reduced side effects.

Agriculture: Optimizing planting and harvesting schedules based on plant rhythms.

Sleep Science: Understanding and treating sleep disorders.

Workplace Productivity: Designing schedules that align with workers' natural rhythms.

Chronobiology is a multidisciplinary field, drawing from biology, neuroscience, psychology, and even physics to understand how time influences life.

[the-reality-revolution]

Deep Sleep Meditation - Money Out Of Thin Air

What you're about to experience isn't just another meditation - it's an initiation into an ancient understanding that has been hidden in plain sight throughout human history. Where does money truly come from? In our modern world, digital currencies move in microseconds, fortunes are made from ideas, and value is created from seemingly nothing. The truth is, money has always been a form of energy, manifesting from the invisible into the visible realm. Tonight, as you drift into the deepest levels of sleep, your subconscious mind will be gently reprogrammed to recognize and attract unexpected money into your life. This isn't about simply visualizing wealth - it's about fundamentally shifting your relationship with how money comes to you. This meditation has been carefully crafted to work with your brain's natural sleep cycles, allowing the powerful suggestions to bypass your conscious resistance and plant deep roots in your subconscious mind. As you sleep, you'll be guided through ancient wisdom combined with modern understanding of manifestation and quantum possibilities. Many who have experienced this meditation report finding money in unexpected places, receiving surprising opportunities, and witnessing financial synchronicities that seemed impossible before. Some have discovered checks they forgot about, received unexpected refunds, or had money literally appear in their path. Manifesting money out of thin air, at its core, is any financial gain that comes to us through unforeseen or unanticipated channels. It's the surprise inheritance from a distant relative, the forgotten savings bond that matures at just  the right moment, or the sudden popularity of a side project that turns into a lucrative business.These windfalls are not part of our regular income streams; they're the financial equivalents of finding an oasis in a desert—surprising, refreshing, and potentially life-changing. Your only task now is to relax and allow yourself to drift into sleep. Let go of any skepticism or doubt - those belong to the old paradigm of scarcity thinking. Tonight, you step into a new reality where money flows to you as naturally as air flows through this room.

[gabatelepsychiatry-blog]

Causes of Depression in Teenagers

While depression can impact individuals of any age, teenagers are especially at risk due to their unique physical and environmental challenges. Adolescence is a time of profound physical, emotional, and social transformation. During this stage, teens are particularly sensitive to hormonal changes, stress, peer pressure, and issues surrounding identity.

Teen depression often manifests differently than it does in adults. Instead of expressing sadness outright, a teenager might display symptoms such as:

Irritability

Social withdrawal, avoiding friends, sports, or previously enjoyed activities

Behavioral changes like defiance or neglecting household chores

Struggles with academic performance

Risky sexual behavior or abusive relationships

Recklessness and impulsivity

Spending excessive time on social media or phones

Comfort eating, weight gain, or loss of appetite

Recognizing the causes of teen depression can help caregivers and professionals provide effective support and intervention.

Causes of Teen Depression

Biological Factors Puberty brings significant hormonal changes that can influence emotions and temperament. Teen brains are still developing, particularly in areas that regulate stress and decision-making. Certain medical conditions, such as polycystic ovarian syndrome, can also intensify mood symptoms.

Family History A family history of depression may predispose a teen to experience it. Imbalances in brain neurotransmitters can also affect emotional stability.

Growth Spurt Rapid growth during adolescence may cause emotional disturbances. Factors like hormonal shifts and nutrient distribution to the bones instead of the brain could contribute. Although usually temporary, teens might need extra support during growth spurts.

Peer Pressure Day-to-day pressures, including school stress, homework, exams, and relationships, can overwhelm teenagers. Trying to align home values with peer influences can create internal conflicts.

Bullying Bullying, whether in person or online, can leave teens feeling isolated and miserable. Social media often intensifies these feelings, making negativity hard to escape.

Stressful Home Life Family dynamics significantly impact mental health. Arguments, financial struggles, or lack of emotional support at home can make teens feel unsafe or overwhelmed. Major changes like divorce, illness, or neglect can amplify these emotions.

Parents with Depression Teens with depressed parents are more likely to develop depression themselves. This applies to both biological and adopted children. Living in the same environment can cause moods to synchronize, similar to menstrual cycles.

Social Media and Technology Social media can connect but also stress teens. Comparing their lives to curated online images may harm self-esteem. Pressure to keep up with trends or maintain a perfect profile adds to this stress. Excessive online time reduces in-person interactions essential for emotional well-being, leading to loneliness.

Traumatic Experiences Trauma can profoundly impact mental health. Loss of a loved one, violence, or major life changes like moving can be overwhelming. Teens who have faced abuse are particularly vulnerable, as shame and anxiety often evolve into depression if untreated.

Academic Pressure and Future Uncertainty School can be stressful, with high expectations for performance, college acceptance, and career planning. Worrying about the future can make this stress overwhelming.

Substance Use Some teens turn to drugs or alcohol to cope with stress or emotional pain. Substance abuse disrupts brain chemistry and creates dependency, worsening depression.

Lack of Sleep Teenagers require ample sleep, but busy schedules, screen time, and stress often prevent it. Sleep deprivation has strong links to depression and anxiety.

Identity and Self-Esteem Issues Adolescence is a period of self-discovery, but grappling with identity, gender, sexuality, or fitting in can cause rejection and loneliness. Low self-esteem also contributes, as teens may engage in negative thinking when they feel inadequate.

When to Seek Treatment

Treatment for teen depression is essential when they exhibit signs such as:

School refusal or academic decline

Suicidal thoughts

Risk-taking behavior

Oppositional or violent behavior

Feedback from teachers about behavioral changes

Sleep or appetite disturbances

Loss of interest in activities

Falling out with close friends or concerns from other parents

How to Treat Depression in Teenagers

Depression in Teenagers can be treated by: 

Therapy

Medication

Supplements

Environmental changes

Family support 

For more information about how to treat depression in teenagers 

Visit https://gabapsychiatrist.com/child-psychiatrist/ for more information.