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notlongtolove · 7 months ago

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time present and time past

spencer tried to explain einstein’s theory of relativity once. and now, with spencer beside you in bed, you think you finally understand what he was on about. because time is relative. and if he doesn’t wake up, this moment will never end, and maybe you can slow down time itself. this work is part of the burnt norton series

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: angst

content: situationship core. they argue. avoidant!-ish.

word count: 3.4k

note: i have a final in 3 days and thought now would be the perfect time to write and post my first fic. yay! anyways this is inspired by an old literature text i studied, einstein's theory of relativity and what not. a line: I’ll come to you before you call—Just to prove that I don’t come to you every time you call.

time present and time past are both perhaps present in time future, and time future contained in time past. if all time is eternally present all time is unredeemable. - t.s. eliot

You've never been one for physics, the numbers, the theories, the science of it all. But that’s never stopped Spencer from launching into explanations like a rocket whenever the chance presents itself. You would nod along, a smile on your face though whatever he's saying might as well be in a foreign language.

He tried to explain Einstein’s theory of relativity once. Something about clocks, something about a kind of gravitational field.

“Think of it like this,” he started, and you could almost picture him gesturing animatedly on the other end of the line. “I’m on the jet, and I run down the aisle in five seconds. From my perspective, that’s it—five seconds, straight forward, simple.”

“Hotch would kill you,” you cut in, biting back a grin at the thought.

“Just imagine it,” Spencer laughed.

“Okay, okay.”

“So, if you time me, and I make it down the aisle in five seconds—”

“Highly unlikely, but sure.”

“Angel,” he warned, but there was no real bite in it. He waited for your giggles to subside before pressing on, “but for you, watching me from outside as the jet moves, it’s not so simple. You’d see me running, sure, but you’d also have to factor in the jet’s movement. To you, I’m covering more distance because the jet is moving too, right?”

“If you say so...”

“Just focus,” he laughed. “Now, here’s where it gets interesting. The faster the jet goes, the bigger this effect becomes. If it were moving close to the speed of light, something wild happens—time for me, inside the jet, starts to move at a slower rate compared to your time outside.”

“Ah.”

“You don’t get it.”

“No, I do. I do.”

“Okay, so explain it.”

You paused, your lips twitching with suppressed laughter. “Uh… You can run faster than a jet?”

Spencer groaned, but he was laughing too. “Time moves slower for those in the jet because space and time are connected,” he said, his voice warming with excitement. "They stretch and bend depending on speed. It’s called time dilation. The faster you move through space, the slower time moves for you relative to someone standing still."

“...I think I get it?”

“Not yet, but you will.”

He promised to explain it more when he got back. But he never did. And so you never really understood it—at least, not until now.

Not until he’s lying in your bed again, your sheets tangled around him like they’ve claimed him as their own.

Einstein says that time is relative. He says that the rate at which time passes depends on an observer's frame of reference.

The observer in this case—You.

And if one observer moves at the speed of light, time will slow down for them.

Spencer’s asleep beside you. His face is soft in the flickers of streetlight creeping through the blinds. They give you just enough visibility to watch the rise and fall of his chest and you wonder if he's dreaming. The sound of his breathing, steady, is the only thing keeping you tethered.

If you squint hard enough, there’s almost something domestic about the scene. You ignore the fact that this is the nth time you’ve done this because ignoring is easier. It’s easier to think about how he smells like his shampoo, and how his shirt is thrown haphazardly over your nightstand. A sight you missed more than you would admit. You think about reaching for it, but your hand stays where it is. You stay where you are—just watching, observing. Because Einstein said the rate at which time passes depends on the observer’s frame of reference. And if you stay still enough, maybe you can slow down time itself.

You like moments like these. The simplicity of it. You tell your friends the same thing when they ask, their voices thick with judgment, their eyes too knowing. “We don’t do anything” you insist to the room of raised eyebrows. “We’re just hanging out, you know, as friends” you say, as if saying it enough times will make it true.

“Just hanging out?” “Yup.”

“As friends?” “Yup.”

You know you’ve hit a new low when you have to pull the ‘hanging out’ card, but you take a sort of comfort in that fact. Because at least he’s not like those other guys, right? That’s your silver lining. That it’s not like that. He’s not like that. But in the quiet after, when his breathing is the only sound and you feel walls closing in you, you can't help but wonder which is worse: the thing that he is, or the thing you’re letting yourself become.

You reached out first this time. A small victory in the game you’ve been playing against yourself. There’s some semblance of control in it, you rationalize. If you’re bound to fall, tethered to this fate of always crawling back, at least let it be on your terms.

I’ll come to you before you call—Just to prove that I don’t come to you every time you call.

Come over. Made too much pasta. You texted. It’s an olive branch, a peace offering after a fight that had left you both frayed at the edges. A throw of the same old ball back to his side of the court where the game has dragged on far too long. Proof to him that you didn’t mean what you’d said, that you’re not done yet. That you’re still okay with this.

You can take it.

The fight had been about work—or at least, that’s how it started. He’d mentioned a new trainee in passing, his voice light, almost too casual, as he spooned rice out of the takeout box. “She’s new,” he said, with a shrug. “Eager, maybe too eager. Emily says she’s a bit of a people pleaser.”

She. You watched him carefully, trying to read between the lines.

“Oh?” you replied, keeping your voice as even as you could manage. Muscle memory. You’ve been here before. Just because Spencer wasn't one of those guys didn't mean you haven't had your fair share of them.

You smile as you meet his eyes asking all the right questions. Where’s she from? How’s she doing?

He glanced up at you, surprised by your interest. Light work you thought. “Somewhere out West, I think. She’s doing fine—rookie mistakes, you know. She had a bad day last week, though. Got rattled on a case. Garcia said Hotch was too hard on her.”

“Poor thing,” you murmured, “Hope she’s feeling better.”

“Garcia thought I… thought she was pretty,” he added laughing, the words tumbling out like an afterthought. Like the words don’t hold the weight that he knows it does.

Ah. There it is.

“Well, did you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, casual.

“She’s… alright,” he said, his tone too high, too quick. You didn’t miss the way he swallowed hard afterward.

“You’re avoiding the question,” you teased lightly, smiling even though your stomach was beginning to twist itself into knots.

“I’m not,” he countered, shoving another bite of food into his mouth. “You asked if she’s pretty, and I said she’s alright.”

“You’re totally avoiding it,” you said, laughing to keep the air light even as the knot pulled tighter. “Spence, you can just say it.”

“Say what?” he asked, eyes darting up to meet yours, then back to his plate.

“Just say it.”

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Admit that she’s pretty.”

“Okay.” He exhaled sharply, like the word had been dragged out of him. “I think she’s pretty.”

Oh.

There was something in the way he said that made your chest constrict.

I think she’s pretty.

He thinks she’s pretty. Not like it was some objective fact, not something calculated or reasoned. Not that she was statistically pretty, backed up by some symmetry or math behind it. He just… thought so—No, he thinks so. Thinks. Present tense. Meaning as he’s sitting here, across from you, eating the takeout you suspected he’d purposefully ordered too much of, he thinks she’s pretty.

You stared down at your plate, your appetite long gone. The silence stretched between you, heavy and uncomfortable. You could hear the faint hum of the refrigerator, the distant murmur of voices from the apartment next door.

“You’re quiet,” he said finally, his voice softer now, hesitant.

“I’m fine,” you replied too quickly, a smile pasted on your face as you looked up. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

You shook your head, forcing a smile. “Nothing. Pass the soy sauce?” He passed it without another word, but you could feel his eyes lingering on you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you finally said, your voice sharper than you intended.

“I’m not,” Spencer replied defensively, though his eyes stayed trained on you. “You’re just… quiet. It’s not like you.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ve run out of things to say.”

“Is this because I said she’s pretty? Because I didn’t want—”

“Spencer stop,” you interrupted, setting your fork down with a deliberate clink against your plate.

“I wasn’t going to say it. You asked me to say it.” he countered. “And the term pretty is subjective anyway, I think you’re pretty too.” You stayed silent, not meeting his eyes. “Don’t be like that. You know I care about you.”

“It sure doesn’t feel like it.”

You knew you were being petty. Acting like a child who didn’t get their way, grasping at anything to make the hurt feel justified. But you couldn’t help it.

“You just—you talk about work, about—god, about pretty girls and I—”, You stopped, swallowing hard, trying to tamp down the words you weren’t ready to say. “I feel like I’m just… here. Someone you call when you’re bored or when you’ve ordered too much food or when—”

“That’s not true,” he argued, his tone sharp now, “You’re twisting it—”

“Am I?” you snapped, your eyes finally meeting his. They were wide, startled, but it didn’t stop you. “Because I’m starting to think this is exactly what it is.”

“Well, what do you think this is?” Spencer’s jaw tightened as his hands gripped the edge of the table.

“I don’t know,” you said bitterly. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“We’ve talked about this,” Spencer said, each word cutting deeper than the last. “You said you wanted to be friends. Friends do this. Friends have dinner. Friends don’t force someone to admit someone else is pretty and then make it all—I don't know, all weird after.”

You winced, his phrasing like a mirror reflecting every misstep, every conversation where you’d backed yourself into this corner. He’s not wrong—you had said you wanted to be friends. But he didn’t know the weight behind that concession.

You’d thought back to those late-night conversations. The ones where he’d laid out his reasons like a clinical diagnosis: I don’t have the time. It wouldn’t be fair to you. I’m not ready. So, you’d waited, convincing yourself that 'not now' meant 'not yet'. But eventually, you’d called it yourself, told him you should just be friends. A sad attempt at controlling a situation you were only ever destined to be hurt by. Because your own destruction should only ever be yours to wield—and you have to claim it before it can claim you.

He’d agreed it was better this way and you’d nodded along. Not because you believed it, but because it was a way to keep him in your life. A lifeline you clung to no matter how much it cut into your hands. But labels don’t erase what’s already happened. They don’t undo the stolen glances, the kisses in the quiet moments, the nights where you felt like the only two people in the world. They just build a fragile scaffold over it all, a flimsy way of holding up what’s already crumbling. Dating. On a break. Dating again. Friends. They pile on top of one another like a pathetic plaster over the hurt of what you wished things could be.

“Right,” you said finally, the word brittle and sharp as it escapes your lips. Your voice was hollow as your eyes met his, daring him to flinch. “So I guess that means I can’t expect anything from you, right? No decency, no consideration, no… nothing. Because we’re not in a relationship. We’ve never been in a relationship. Right?”

“Don’t,” Spencer said quietly, almost pleading now. “That’s not fair. Don’t turn this into something it’s not.”

“You’ve made it perfectly clear what this is,” you said, standing from the table, your hands trembling as you gathered your things.

“Wait,” he said, standing too, “You don’t have to—”

“And by the way, Spence,” you cut him off, reaching into your bag and slamming the extra key he’d given you months ago onto the table. It clattered louder than you expected, echoing in the tense silence between you. “You can have this back. Because last I checked, friends don’t have keys to each other’s apartments.” You were acutely aware of the venom dripping in your voice but you pressed on, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “And thanks for the flowers, but I don’t think friends go out of their way to buy a bouquet to make up for every friendly dinner they miss.” You didn’t wait for a response. You didn’t look at his face, didn’t want to see whatever expression he was wearing.

But the satisfaction of that slam felt distant now. You think back fondly of the girl who had made her point so clear, so definitive. A line drawn in the sand. But winds blow and sand moves. That girl seems like a lifetime away from the girl you are now—the one lying here, beside him, again.

Spencer stirs beside you, a quiet sigh escaping his lips, and your breath hitches. You don’t want him to wake up. Because if—when he does, you know he’ll leave. But until then, in this moment of temporary serenity, you can pretend it doesn’t matter. You can pretend it’s okay. You can pretend you’re okay.

After all, Einstein said that time is relative. If he doesn’t wake up, the moment will never end, and maybe—just maybe—you can slow down time itself. You stare at the ceiling, letting the minutes tick past, each one stretching longer than the last.

Your thoughts drift back to what Spencer had said. Time moves slower for those in the jet.

Well, if your apartment is the sky, then this bed is the jet. In the quiet of this moment, his warmth beside you, the faint smell of him lingering on the pillow—this is where time bends. The rate at which time passes depends on the observer’s frame of reference. Maybe you can trick the universe, make these seconds stretch into hours. Maybe, if you stay still enough, think hard enough, the world outside won’t come knocking. You can freeze this bubble of peace.

But the illusion is tenuous, and reality looms like turbulence on the horizon. Time doesn’t truly stop, you know that, we’re all forced to move on along with it. They say time waits for no man—least of all a broken-hearted girl. The clock keeps ticking, indifferent to your longing. Sooner or later, he’ll wake, and the bubble will burst.

You wonder how long you can keep this up. You’d just been talking earlier tonight, telling each other what had happened in the days you hadn’t spoken since the argument. The words had come easier than you expected, though none of them seemed to solve anything. Spencer had fallen asleep mid-sentence, right as you were recounting something trivial about your day. His exhaustion was written all over his face—the heavy pull of his eyelids, the way his head tilted slightly toward you before finally giving in. You’d paused, watching him, and the words you were about to say dissolved into silence. You hadn’t wanted to wake him.

The old you would’ve been angry, the frustration bubbling up into sharp words and accusations. The fight was always the same, well-rehearsed and raw: You always do this. I’m sorry. When are you not? I missed you. Then why won’t you stay? You know I can’t. You can. I can’t. It was less of a conversation and more of a script. It had long since stopped being about what either of you said; it was about how you said it and where it always led. It would’ve ended in a fight, Spencer’s guilt countered by your hurt, spiralling into a familiar standoff with no real resolution.

But that was the old you. She’d had more fight in her, more fire to demand the things she felt she deserved. That fire has dimmed now, not extinguished, but banked low and steady, like you’ve learned to ration it. It’s not that the frustration has disappeared—it lingers, an ache beneath the surface—but you’ve stopped letting it boil over. Deep down, you know the real reason you didn’t start a fight tonight. It’s not just that you’re tired of fighting, though you are. It’s that you don’t know how much fight he still has in him. You don’t know if one more argument, one more crack in this fragile thing between you, will be the thing that makes him walk away for good.

And you’re not ready to find out.

So you let it slide. Not because you want to, but because you can. You’ve told yourself you’re strong enough to carry it—to make up the weight of his distance, his exhaustion, his inability to give you what you need. You let him sleep, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, and you tell yourself it’s enough.

But Spencer shifts again, and this time his eyes flutter open. You freeze, your body tense, as if staying perfectly still might undo his wakefulness.

“Hey,” he murmurs groggily, his voice thick with sleep. His arm snakes over your waist, pulling you closer. For a brief, fleeting second, you allow yourself to relish the warmth of his touch, the illusion of intimacy.

Then his hand moves. He’s reaching—not for you, but for his watch on the bedside table.

He checks the time, squinting in the dim light filtering through the blinds. And you know. You know what’s coming next.

“I should go.” he says softly, his arm already retreating from where it had rested over your waist. He pushes himself up, running a hand through his sleep-mussed hair.

You sit up slightly, the sheets pooling around you, and force a small smile. “Okay” you murmur, the words feeling hollow even as they leave your lips.

Spencer’s already out of bed, reaching for his shirt and bag. The routine feels mechanical, practiced—a series of motions he’s repeated so many times it barely registers as something that could hurt you. He pulls the shirt over his head, adjusts the strap on his bag, and leans down to kiss your forehead. Friends, as if. You think.

It’s a fleeting gesture, a touch that’s supposed to mean something but feels more like a formality now. More perfunctory than tender.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep,” he says as he straightens, glancing at his watch like he’s late for something more important. “You should’ve woken me up.”

You shake your head silently, not trusting that your thoughts won’t betray you. Don’t wake up. Don’t leave me. Don’t go. Instead you settle for, “You were tired. You should get some rest.” The weight in your chest feels unbearable but you press your lips into a tight, strained smile anyways. A silent permission for him to leave.

He doesn’t hesitate.

“Drive safe,” you say quietly as you walk him to the door.

“I’ll text you?” he offers, already halfway out.

“Okay,” you reply, the word barely audible.

And then he’s gone.

The sound of the door clicking shut echoes in the quiet of your apartment, final and unrelenting. You stand there for a moment, staring at the door as if willing it to open again, as if hoping he might turn around and come back. You know he won’t.

You turn and lean against the wall, the cool surface grounding you, a poor substitute for the warmth that was just beside you. The apartment feels colder, emptier now, the silence deafening. The clock on the wall ticks forward, oblivious to your grief, dragging you further away from the moment he was just here. You feel stuck in place, a reluctant passenger watching the world rush forward while you’re left behind, stranded.

You think back to what Einstein had said and you think he’s got it all wrong. How if one observer moves at the speed of light, time will slow down for them. Because no matter how tightly you try to hold on, the jet doesn’t slow down. It won’t wait for you. The jet will keep moving forward, unrelenting, and him along with it. With or without you.

And as you stand alone in the stillness he’s left behind, you realize it’s always been without you.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you for reading! feel free to like or reblog or comment or reply!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer x reader #spencer x self insert #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader angst

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fishhateme · 3 months ago

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so... Linkedin influencer au, anyone?

LinkedIn Influencer danny in the midst of the redbull breakdown™ made me think of like this random ass au

BEAR WITH ME

(i made a pt 2!)

Imagine Max being an up and coming engineer or something along those lines, and he's a genius in his field but he's antisocial as fuck (if you'd ask him he'd just say he's intolerant to other people's bullshit)

ANYWAYS he sort of *has* to network because of the horrors of the capitalist world and as he's scrolling through LinkedIn he comes across this... dork? He isn't exactly cringe, not like this other engineer (ahem ahem aerodynamic engineer!lewis) who posts photos of his bulldog going to the office -which is supposed to be inspirational?? Somehow??- or quotes about being a unicorn

(i realize I'm getting sidetracked about how funny lewis would be on LinkedIn so I'll get back on track)

Unlike engineer!lewis, this other guy on LinkedIn isn't necessarily cringe - he's obviously a bit older than max judging by his very proper punctuation (although it is... yknow... linkedin) and his weird hyper fixation with cowboy emojis anytime he gets a promotion or anything like that, but he sort of makes max do that thing where you exhale out of your nose instead of chuckling, and since that's the first semi enjoyable thing max has ever experienced whilst on the hellhole that is linkedin, he decides to follow him

He's forgotten about it at first, but then he sort of start refreshing his feed to check if the guy has posted anything, and then he's commenting on one of his posts about hiding honey badger stickers around his physics faculty office (apparently he works in a university or something, not that max reread his career trajectory ten times or anything) with laughing emojis (who comments on LinkedIn posts? Who is he, his father?) and they get into this weird sort of always-interacting-with-each-other-but-also-y'know-it's-linkedin-not-tinder sorta vibe

The point is that his coworker/reluctant friend lando drags him to this stupid engineering event that's supposed to be perfect for networking.

Max will never admit it, but he agreed to go not only to get away from his horrible boss, because Marko creeped him the fuck out and would criticize his work even if he reinvented Einstein's theory of relativity, but also because the funny linkedin guy posted he'd be there

Except max wonders around and around the stupid aerodynamics convention and, while he runs into that fucking guy with the decked out bulldog more times than he could count, he doesn't think he sees daniel?

He's not about to humiliate himself and ask someone, though. That would be desperate, even if this daniel -danyul- is sort of well known in these circles because his LinkedIn posts are semi well known (max chuckles at the thought of falling for an influencer, but not an Instagram model, instead a LinkedIn physics micro influencer)

After a few hours he gives up, deciding the best course of action is getting shitfaced and therefore successfully forcing Lando to drive back home through the inevitable traffic the convention would bring to town

He goes to the bar and orders a gin and tonic, then another, then a third (he really shouldn't have gotten a third, he was supposed to be looking for another job in the first place and that toto guy from the germany factories seemed interested in his resume, this was a bad idea)

Flushed, frustrated and pleasantly buzzed, he rested his forehead against the coolness of the bar, closing his eyes when he heard someone sit on a stool, an amused Aussie accent right next to him

"What's got you down in the dumps, mate? An equation broke your heart? A lever system rejected your advances?"

Max closed his eyes and barely even chuckled out of courtesy for the stranger. Dork, a distant part of his brain supplied, and although he'd used that same word for someone else his buzzed brain didn't connect the dots

"I was looking for a guy I know from LinkedIn but I think he didn't show up" he admitted, surprising himself with his sudden burst of honesty. Maybe he shouldn't have drank so fast?

The guy next to him cackled, and Max didn't lift his head because the lights were too bright and they'd hurt him, but he was pretty sure he heard the scraping of the stool legs against the floor signaling this random Aussie guy almost ate shit laughing at the patheticness of his situation

Great

"Screw him!" He said, way too cheerfully for Max's taste, and ordered himself a rose

Max lifted his head at that, if only to say how idiotic it was to order a rose instead of a real drink, and he almost gasped when he was met with dark curls and a dangerously toothy grin he'd seen before, on his LinkedIn home screen, on a tiny icon but definitely there

But before he could have time to react, Daniel was clinking his glass of rose against Max's half finished g&t, smiling mirthfully

"Don't worry, mate. People on LinkedIn are a bunch of cunts, anyway"

#daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #maxiel #my fic #ish?#my ficish?#ficlet?#random idea?#anyways #linkedin influencer!au #Also college professor!danny and aero engineer!max #Also yes that last line was inspired by netflix are a bunch of cunts aren't they #Watchu gonna do about it

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theplotmage · 9 months ago

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Hi, I was wondering if you could so some sort of rule set for time travel? I'm finding it hard to describe, and what rules there are on the subject.

Thanks!

Hello, I'm also writing a time traveling sci-fi fiction with a fantasy blend to it and here are some things that I find that could help us out!

Rule Set for Creating Believable Time-Traveling Fiction

1. Time Travel Mechanics

Mechanism Description

- Clearly explain how time travel works in your story. Is it a machine, a natural phenomenon, a magical object, or an innate ability?

Scientific Basis

- Incorporate real scientific theories, such as Einstein’s theory of relativity, wormholes, or quantum mechanics, to ground your story in plausible science.

Limitations and Costs

- Define the limitations of time travel, such as distance in time, frequency, energy requirements, or physical toll on the traveler.

2. World-Building

Historical Accuracy

- Research and accurately depict the time periods your characters travel to. Include cultural norms, language, technology, and major events of those eras.

Parallel Worlds and Timelines

- Decide if time travel in your story creates alternate timelines or if it follows a single, mutable timeline. Consistency is key.

Temporal Organization

- Consider the existence of a governing body or organization that regulates time travel. Define its structure, rules, and purpose.

3. Language and Communication

Temporal Dialects

- Characters from different time periods should speak differently. Use historical dialects, slang, and accents appropriate to each era.

Temporal Jargon

- Create specific terms and jargon for time travelers and the technology they use, such as “temporal jump,” “chrononaut,” or “time anchor.”

Code of Conduct

- Develop a code of conduct or set of guidelines that time travelers must follow, including how they communicate with each other and with people from different eras.

4. Character Development

Motivations and Goals

- Clearly define why characters want to time travel. Is it for adventure, to change a personal event, or for scientific exploration?

Personal Growth

- Show how time travel affects characters emotionally and psychologically. Do they struggle with the ethics of their actions or the loneliness of being out of their time?

Conflict and Tension

- Use the potential for paradoxes, rival time travelers, and moral dilemmas to create conflict and tension.

5. Ethical and Moral Implications

Paradox Prevention

- Address how your story handles paradoxes, such as the grandfather paradox. Use concepts like self-healing timelines or fixed points in time to explain inconsistencies.

Ethical Dilemmas

- Explore the moral implications of time travel. Should characters intervene in historical events? What are the consequences of changing the past Responsibility

- Emphasize the responsibility that comes with the power to alter time. Characters should consider the broader implications of their actions.

6. Plot Structure

Non-Linear Narrative

- Use non-linear storytelling techniques to enhance complexity and intrigue. Flashbacks, flash-forwards, and parallel timelines can create a rich narrative.

Foreshadowing and Payoff

- Plant clues and foreshadowing that pay off later in the story. Ensure that all plot threads are resolved by the end.

Multiple Perspectives

- Consider telling the story from multiple viewpoints to show the impact of time travel from different angles.

7. Integrating Science Fiction and Fantasy Elements

Scientific Plausibility

- Ground your time travel mechanics in plausible science, even if you incorporate fantastical elements. Use pseudo-scientific explanations to bridge the gap.

Imaginative Enhancements

- Blend scientific theories with imaginative elements, such as ancient artifacts, alien technology, or supernatural forces.

Explanatory Dialogue

- Use character dialogue to explain complex concepts in an accessible way without overwhelming the reader with technical details.

8. World-Building Consistency

Timeline Integrity

- Map out key events in your story’s timeline to avoid inconsistencies and plot holes.

Cultural and Societal Impact

- Consider how time travel affects society. Is it a well-known and regulated practice, or a secret known only to a few?

Technological and Historical Changes

- Explore how changes in the past affect technology and history in the present and future. Ensure these changes are logically consistent.

9. Avoiding Common Pitfalls

Avoid Overcomplication

- Keep the rules of time travel simple enough for readers to follow without getting bogged down in excessive technical detail.

Plot Holes

- Be vigilant about potential plot holes and inconsistencies that can arise from complex time travel mechanics.

Exposition Balance

- Balance the need to explain time travel mechanics with maintaining the story’s pace and engagement. Avoid info-dumping.

Rules for Time Traveling

1. One-Way Trips Only

Restriction

- Time travelers can only move forward or backward in time once without the possibility of a return journey.

Explanation

- This rule ensures that the timeline remains linear and prevents paradoxes caused by multiple interactions with the same time period.

Effect

- Limits interference with historical events and reduces the chance of creating alternate realities.

2. The Observer Effect

Restriction

- Time travelers cannot interact with their past selves or directly influence their previous actions.

Explanation

- Direct interaction with one’s past self could create paradoxes, such as the “grandfather paradox,” where altering past events prevents the traveler’s existence.

Effect

- Maintains the integrity of the timeline and ensures personal history remains consistent.

3. Fixed Points in Time

Restriction

- Certain historical events, known as fixed points, cannot be changed or altered in any way.

Explanation

- These events are crucial for the stability of the timeline and the universe’s structure.

Effect

- Prevents catastrophic changes to reality, ensuring key moments in history remain intact.

4. Memory Corruption

Restriction

- Excessive time travel can lead to memory corruption, where the traveler starts forgetting crucial details of their original timeline.

Explanation

- The brain struggles to handle multiple versions of events, leading to cognitive dissonance and memory loss.

Effect

- Ensures travelers use time travel sparingly and only when absolutely necessary.

5. Temporal Anchor

Restriction

- Time travelers must establish a temporal anchor, a fixed point in time to which they can return or stabilize themselves.

Explanation

- This anchor serves as a safeguard against getting lost in time or drifting uncontrollably through different periods.

Effect

- Provides a safety net for travelers, ensuring they have a way back to their original timeline or a stable reference point.

6. Butterfly Effect

Restriction

- Minor changes in the past can have significant, unforeseen consequences in the future.

Explanation

- The butterfly effect illustrates how small actions can ripple through time, drastically altering future events.

Effect

- Encourages travelers to be cautious and minimize their impact on past events to avoid unintended consequences.

7. Temporal Energy Consumption

Restriction

- Time travel requires a significant amount of energy, often depleting the traveler’s resources or affecting the environment.

Explanation

- The energy needed to manipulate time is immense, and its usage can lead to resource shortages or environmental damage.

Effect

- Ensures time travel is not undertaken lightly and that travelers consider the environmental and resource costs.

8. Chrono-Sickness

Restriction

- Prolonged exposure to different time periods can cause physical and mental ailments, known as chrono-sickness.

Explanation

- The human body and mind are not designed to handle the stress of moving through time, leading to disorientation, nausea, and psychological effects.

Effect

- Limits the duration and frequency of time travel, encouraging travelers to minimize their trips.

9. Temporal Interference

Restriction

- Time travelers must avoid interfering with major historical figures or events.

Explanation

- Interfering with significant events or individuals can drastically alter the course of history, leading to unpredictable outcomes.

Effect

- Preserves the natural flow of history and ensures major events occur as intended.

10. Temporal Paradoxes

Restriction

- Travelers must avoid creating paradoxes, situations where actions in the past contradict the present or future.

Explanation

- Paradoxes can destabilize the timeline, potentially leading to its collapse or the creation of alternate realities.

Effect

- Ensures travelers act responsibly and with caution, preventing actions that could lead to paradoxical situations.

***

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sso-maev · 4 months ago

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SSO timeline (REWORKED)

Consider the old timeline outdated! I’ve found new timestamps and made a few guesses based on character ages and relations to each other.

We have a few things to go off of: It’s been 20 years since Catherine died, and it’s been 45 years since the baroness left Mr Sands and Thomas was born. The old sisterhood, canonically all being born in 1977-1978, should be in their mid 40s. While I used to say Elizabeth’s age was a good jumping off-point, I think 47 is a bit too old considering the other people in her generation (like Sigry and Avalon). It would also make the gap between the failed sisterhood and Catherine’s death a bit too large.

So new theory! Sigry is 44 in the journals and probably born in 1977, and that is our reference point for the timestamps going forward. The journal ages are unreliable, but I’ll consider them canon unless contradicted by the games or books. In case of contradictions between different sso media, my canon hierarchy goes: Newer quests (Post-2018) > Books > Older quests > Journal ages > SSL.

I’ll put the source of my timeline claims in brackets. Confirmed, unmovable timestamps will be marked in green. Unclear time estimates will be marked with a ~. Let’s get into it!

1218

Jon Jarl arrives on Jorvik. [Starstable Online]

1702

Bertrude Silverglade passes away, leaving the Silverglade estate in the hands of an unnamed “mysterious relative”. [Starstable Online]

~1773

John Sandman and Rosalinda are born, ~25 years before Rosalinda’s death

1798

Rosalinda dies. She and John Sandman are engaged to be married, so they’re probably in their mid-20s. [The Legend Awakens]

1871

Mr Sanders fishes up a deep-sea creature, likely connected to Garnok. [Starshine Legacy]

1890

Owen D Sands establishes Deep Core Drilling Company on Jorvik. [Starshine Legacy]

~1890-1900

At some point during this time period, Mississippi Jones looks for the horn of Araxia. He is pursued by the presumed dead John Sandman. [Starstable Online]

1903

A cave-in/gas incident kills 211 workers and 14 civilians during a Deep Core drilling. (Sounds very similar to what happened in Old Hillcrest…theories…) [Starshine Legacy]

1904

Deep Core is forced to shut down. [Starshine Legacy]

1921

Beatrice, a soul rider of a former sisterhood, is born. She turns 100 years old in present day. [Ghost Stories from Jorvik]

1933

A former reincarnation of Starshine saves four girls who went missing on a school trip to a grave field north of Jorvik City. (Maybe this would be Beatrice’s eventual sisterhood?) [Starshine legacy]

1936

Annabelle Silverglade is born. [Starstable Online]

~1937-1940

Beatrice’s sisterhood is active.

~1949

Pi is born, most likely right inbetween Beatrice and Elizabeth.

1953

Esmeralda Holdsworth is born. [Starstable Online]

1954

Jasper Holbrook is born. [Starstable Online]

1959

John Sandman is on the Firgrove council. Herman Wetton is presumably born around this time, as he claims to have grown up in the 60s. [Starstable Online and Darkness Falling]

1964

Annabelle Silverglade marries John Sandman. [Starstable Online]

1965

Elsa Einstein is born. [Starstable ad]

~1965-1969

Pi is part of a soul rider sisterhood. [Aideen’s gift]

1970

Evergray is born. [Starstable Online]

1976

Annabelle Silverglade divorces John Sandman 45 years before present day. Thomas Moorland is born. [Starstable Online]

1977

Sigry Varanger and Caroline Westfall are born. [The Prisoner of Pandoria]

1978

Catherine Holbrook is born. [Starstable Online]

1979

Avalon is born. [Starstable Online]

1985

Dr Eiren Doyle is born. [Starstable Online]

1987

Ms. Drake is born. [Starstable Online]

1988

Rhiannon is born. [Starstable Online]

1989

Darko is born. [Starstable ad]

1995

Elizabeth arrives on Jorvik. She, Eva, Sigry and Caroline form a soul rider sisterhood. [Shadows Over Jorvik]

~1996

Catherine joins the sisterhood, but grows distant after a failed light ride. [Starstable Online]

~1997

Caroline goes missing and is never seen again. [Starstable Online]

~1999

Catherine’s horse dies after being part of a dangerous ritual. Evergray is presumably banished shortly thereafter. [Starstable Online]

~2000

Catherine and Thomas get married. Josh B’gosh is born. [Starstable Online, Starstable ad]

2001

Catherine dies. Justin is born. [Starstable Online]

2002

Rania Varanger is born. [Starstable Online]

2003

Linda Chanda, Alex Cloudmill, Lisa Peterson and Anne von Blyssen are born in the same year. Derek, Maya, Tan and Loretta are also born this year. [Starstable Online, Jorvik Calling, Starstable ad]

2010

Madison Hightower is born. [Starstable Online]

2011

Rhiannon arrives on Jorvik, ten years before the beginning of SSO. [Starstable Online]

2019

Lisa Peterson arrives on Jorvik, two years before the beginning of SSO. [Starstable Online]

2021-2022

Main story of Starstable Online.

#sso #star stable online #sso lore #sso timeline #star stable

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literaryvein-reblogs · 4 months ago

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Writing Notes: Scientific Theory & Law

Theory - a description of the natural world that scientists have proven through rigorous testing.

As understood within the scientific community, a theory explains how nature behaves under specific conditions.

Theories tend to be as broad as their supporting scientific evidence will permit.

They seek to serve as a definitive explanation of some aspect of the natural world.

A theory begins as a hypothesis: a proposed explanation for a natural phenomenon.

In order to turn a hypothesis into a proven theory, researchers design science experiments to challenge their ideas under the conditions of the natural world.

By adhering to the scientific method and working with careful attention to detail, scientists can eventually accumulate enough evidence to prove their hypothesis, thus making it a theory with predictive power.

Like theories, scientific laws describe phenomena that the scientific community has found to be provably true.

Generally, laws describe what will happen in a given situation as demonstrable by a mathematical equation, whereas theories describe how the phenomenon happens.

Scientific laws develop from scientific discoveries and rigorously tested hypotheses, and new theories generally uphold and expand laws—though neither is ever held to be unimpeachably true.

Examples of Scientific Theories

Many famous scientific theories have shaped our understanding of the natural world as we know it.

The Big Bang Theory: The Big Bang Theory claims that the universe started as a small singularity 13.8 billion years ago and expanded suddenly.

The Heliocentric Theory: Nicolaus Copernicus’s theory demonstrates that Earth travels around the Sun in our solar system.

The Theory of General Relativity: Albert Einstein's theory claims that massive objects (like the Earth) cause a distortion in space-time, which is experienced as gravity. This theory actually supplanted one of the most famous scientific laws, Newton's Law of Universal Gravitation.

The Theory of Evolution by Natural Selection: Charles Darwin's theory—most succinctly summarized as “survival of the fittest”—explains how gradual changes in populations of organisms over time leads to the emergence of traits that allow those organisms to survive.

Examples of Scientific Laws

The laws that anchor the world's scientific knowledge include:

Newton's Law of Universal Gravitation: Sir Isaac Newton's 1687 law of gravity describes the attractive forces between all forms of matter. This theory of gravity establishes a bedrock for many subsequent theories, as the force of gravity impacts nearly all physical relationships in the universe.

Newton’s Laws of Motion: First published in 1687, this set of three laws describes the role that competing forces play on an object at motion or at rest.

Boyle's Law: Alternately known as Boyle-Mariotte Law or Mariotte's Law, this describes the relationship between gas volume and gas pressure. Physicists Robert Boyle and Edme Mariotte discovered the law independently in 1662 and 1676, respectively.

The Laws of Thermodynamics: This set of four laws concerns thermodynamic work, entropy, heat, temperature, and other forces pertaining to the transfer of energy.

Scientific Theory vs. Law

Scientific laws differ from theories in that they tend to describe a narrower set of conditions.

A scientific law might explain the relationship between two specific forces or between two changing substances in a chemical reaction.

Theories are typically more expansive, and they focus on the how and why of natural phenomena.

Both scientific laws and theories are considered scientific fact.

However, theories and laws can be disproven when new evidence emerges.

Certain accepted truths of Newtonian physics were partially disproven by Albert Einstein's theory of relativity.

The work of Louis Pasteur disproved prior theories of disease in animals.

If thorough scientific research upends a previously held belief, scientists must find new hypotheses that better describe how nature works.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

#research #studyblr #writeblr #dark academia #writing reference #science #writers on tumblr #spilled ink #writing prompt #creative writing #writing inspiration #writing ideas #writing notes #light academia #writing resources

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nonexistent-tales · 5 months ago

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durrrrrrrrr bypothetical dlanets doodles

im norm.al about them anyways i wanted tk fullg color this but my motivatioon ghosted me :(

info about them under cut (both facts and hcs)

THEIA • - • Mars-sized planet theorized to have crashed into the Earth some 4.5 billion years ago. Named after the Greek goddess Theia/Euryphaessa, goddess of sight and vision, one of the twelve Titans.

->->-> pls i love her anyways my stuff on her is a mess, i just know she's a mischievious lil guy

check back in when solarballs releases theia lore

VULCAN • - • A small planet orviting between the Sun and Mercury. Theorized to exist to explain Mercury's goofy orbit according to Newton's physics. Disproven in 1915 with Einstein's Law of General Relativity explaining the orbit instead.

Generally sweet guy. His proximity to the Sun made his friend list limited to the Sun and Mercury (mainly the former). He tries his best to keep everything calm and peaceful. Key word: tries.

PHAETON • - • The destruction of which formed the Asteroid belt. Theories suggest that Ceres and other main belt objects were its former moons. Of course, Phaeton is only one of the many theories of how the Asteroid Belt was formed.

(Those r wax wings to clarify)

Arrogant guy who doesn't know his limits. Despite that, she was close friends with Mars and took care of his moons very well.

COUNTER-EARTH/ANTICHTON • - • A planet mirroring Earth that exists directly opposite our orbit at all times, forever hiding behind the Sun in our perspective. Greek origins

Earth and this guy would either be absolute enemies or the bestest of besties. They mirror each other in a lot of ways. Also, Antichton has black eyes. My Luna design has one black eye to symbolize the dark side of it, and I thought that was a cool design choice. Being on the complete opposite side of the Solar System, I decided to give him (antichton) fully black eyes as well.

would tell tou to keep yourself safe

#solarballs #solarhumans #hypothetical planets #solarballs fanart #solarballs theia #rocky planets #<-all of these guys would technically be part of that #my art #if i get info wrong you (the viewer) have full permission to a)throw me into ton 617 #and b)correct me #motivation pls comeback i want. to draw tyche

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snixkers · 1 year ago

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Einstein's Theory of Relativity

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Fluff

Content Warnings: Large dog, mention of rabies, allusion to cheating, slight suggestive content, kissing

Summary: Spencer comes home to find you in a compromising position.

Author's Note: Decided to post a drabble I've had for a while, enjoy!!!

Feedback is always welcome!

Requests are OPEN

Usually, I was greeted by her face as soon as I got home, rushing to the door and enveloping me in a warm hug that smelled of citrus and comfort. But today, I set down my things and looked around at an empty apartment. Even though it was illogical, my first thought was to panic.

Did she leave? I knew I worked unpredictable hours and was hardly ever there, but I always tried to make it up as best I could. Maybe she decided she couldn’t take it anymore and left. Then my mind slipped into darker territory, worries I buried in the back of my mind and refused to let out.

What if it wasn’t of her own volition? The BAU was no stranger to targeted attacks, especially on their loved ones. I kept a tight grip on my service weapon as I crept through the house, using my training to carefully clear each room.

Finally, I reached the bathroom, where slivers of light were peeking through the door. I sighed in relief, putting away my things when a noise caught my attention.

She clearly was not alone in that bathroom, and she sounded out of breath as she splashed with the other person in the bath. I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, but I immediately assumed the worst. I opened the door quickly, stepping inside and-

I stared in surprise at the sight of her wrestling with a large rottweiler, her t-shirt left soaked from an unsuccessful attempt at a bath. She turned around to face me, offering an apologetic smile. “Welcome home?”

I stood there dumbfounded for a moment before realizing what she had done.

“Where did you get it?”

She rolled her eyes at me, brushing off his concerns as if the 100-lb dog sitting in the tub was just a guinea pig.

“It is a he, and he was wandering the neighborhood. I wanted to take him home and clean him up.”

“You can’t just take dogs off the street. Up to 99% of rabies cases are from domestic dogs.”

She grinned, ready to dismiss my concern with a counterargument as soon as the words left my mouth.

“He didn’t have a collar, so I took him to the vet. He’s not sick, but he’s not chipped either, which means he’s ours to keep.”

I narrowed my eyes, not ready to give up quite yet.

“Well, where are we going to put him? Who will watch him? I’m halfway across the country most of the week.”

She stood up, crossing her arms proudly at how much effort she had put into this.

“Our apartment is big enough, and pets are allowed. I work from home most days, so I can take care of him just fine.”

I took a deep breath, running a hand through my hair as I tried to convince her that this wasn’t the great idea she thought it was, but every time I came up short. Despite trying to be rational, something about the dog made me want to just hold him close.

She sighed, pouting softly and standing up to move closer to him. “I just need a week to prove it to you. He’s the cutest little thing. Please?”

I stared down at her, my resolve crumbling as she stuck her lip out slightly.

“Fine, we’ll see how this goes.”

She broke into a huge smile, wrapping her arms around me gratefully. I pulled her closer, trying to take in as much of this moment as possible. I stepped back a few seconds later, squinting my eyes at the dog in the bath.

“What’s his name?”

She grinned, clearly pretty pleased with her idea.

“I was thinking of Einstein.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #fanfic #writers on tumblr #writing #drabble #rottweiler #tooth rotting fluff

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mysticstronomy · 11 days ago

Text

IS SPACE TIME AFFECTED BY GRAVITY??

Blog#514

Wednesday, June 18th, 2025,

Welcome back,

You may have heard the seemingly far-out notion that gravity bends light, space and time, and wondered whether this was mere science fiction.

To determine whether this statement is actually true, we need to determine whether gravity, as most of us understand it, truly exists.

At school we are told that gravity is an attractive force. That the Moon orbits around the Earth because our planet pulls on it.

This, after all, is how Isaac Newton described gravity.

However, we've had a more complete picture of gravity for over a century: Einstein's General Theory of Relativity.

General Relativity describes how mass distorts the fabric of the universe, a fabric known as spacetime.

Picture this by imagining a bedsheet held tightly at the four corners, with a bowling ball placed in the centre to represent the Earth.

The sheet will sag in the middle. You could then take a tennis ball and roll it around the rim of the dip in the sheet.

In other words, you could make the tennis ball orbit the bowling ball. Crucially, though, there's no force of attraction here.

The bowling ball isn't pulling on the tennis ball. Instead the bowling ball is distorting the shape of the fabric and the tennis ball is simply following that distortion.

So the attractive 'force' of gravity is actually an illusion. Gravity is mere geometry.

As gravity wells are distortions in spacetime, they also distort time as well as space.

Picture a rather peculiar kind of clock. It is made of two mirrors with light bouncing between them.

Every time the light hits a mirror the clock ticks.

If you take this clock into a gravity well then the spacetime between the mirrors will be distorted and it will take longer for the light to travel between the mirrors.

In other words, the clock will tick less frequently. Time runs more slowly the deeper inside a gravity well you are.

Originally published on https://www.skyatnightmagazine.com

COMING UP!!

(Saturday, June 21st, 2025)

"A UNIVERSE WITHOUT DARK MATTER??"

#astronomy #outer space #alternate universe #astrophysics #universe #spacecraft #white universe #space #parallel universe #astrophotography

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blooming-violets · 1 year ago

Note

Hear me out :

Peter is jaded after Gwen, it’s before the events of NWH, and he’s slowly starting to fall in love with a woman he’s (literally) ran into at the library. She’s intellectual, kind, but is also a little jaded like Peter. Slowly, he has seen hope in her chestnut eyes. He is starting to see a future.

One night, Peter is listening to the police scanners and hears the code for an armed break-in, and it’s library girl’s apartment complex’s address.

He swallows, angry chills run up his spine as he hears her apartment number called out.

What does he do, Katie? How would he react?

I'm With You || TASM Peter Parker x fem!Reader

Trigger Warnings: stalking, sexual assault of a woman (being masturbated over by a man and touched w/o consent), nudity, crass language, gun usage, armed break-ins with the intent to harm a woman living alone, being tied and gagged against her will, violence from Peter/Spider-Man with a tiny bit of gore

It’s a damn cold night.

Peter tugged his jacket close around his body as he jogged the last few remaining steps into the public library. His overdue books were hidden inside the satchel at his side. He was about a month late in returning them and the library was almost closed. He wanted to get them in before he forgot. If he waited another day, he would never remember to bring them back.

As he rounded the corner, he tripped over someone’s outstretched legs. Being a man of his talents, he quickly corrected his fall to land effortlessly back on his feet with the elegance of a ballerina making a graceful leap.

Quizzical eyes stared up at him.

The woman on the floor was leaning with her back against the bookcase with an open book in her lap. She looked more annoyed at him for tripping over her instead of apologetic for having her legs across the aisle.

“Watch where you’re going,” she grumbled.

She lifted the book up to her face, blocking him back out.

Peter let out a breathy laugh of disbelief at the audacity of this bitch.

“Excuse me?” He said, agast.

She peeked her eyes over the top of the book to stare him down, “Dude, get lost. I’m busy. Not my fault you’re clumsy.”

“You tripped me!” He read the cover of the book she was reading. The Making of the Atomic Bomb by Richard Rhodes. “Doing a bit of light reading, I see. First it’s tripping innocent strangers and next it’s world domination? Is that it?”

He caught the smallest of smiles tug at her lips hidden behind the book.

A singular butterfly fluttered around inside his stomach at the sight. The feeling was enough to grab his attention. He quietly admired her. Legs still stretched out in front of her. Zero regard for the space she was taking up. He kind of liked it. She didn’t give a shit.

Peter turned and left her to her book, not wanting to bother her further, and headed to the front desk to deal with his late fees.

A week had passed and he was back in the library. He had no real purpose for being there today other than he liked the smell of the books. They made him feel relaxed. He liked to walk down the aisles and let his fingers graze across each bump of their spines. Every book he touched, filled with another story, another world, hundreds of lives under the tips of his fingers.

“Hey,” a feminine voice hissed from between a gap of books on the other side of the shelf.

Those eyes. He blinked back at them, peering between the shelves, trying to place where he remembered them from.

Then it hit him.

Atomic bomb girl.

“Can I borrow your height?” She whispered, keeping her voice low to be respectful to the people studying on the other side of the room. Unlike the last time he saw her, it was a Thursday afternoon and the library was full with students.

Peter slipped into the next aisle. She pointed to the book she wanted on the top shelf, just out of her reach. He plucked it down for her and turned it over in his hands. Relativity: The Special and the General Theory by Albert Einstein.

She eyed him with an intensity he wasn’t used to, like she was seeing straight through his skin and into his soul. Her eyes were captivating. He wanted to get lost in them.

“You’re the unbalanced, trippy guy, right?” She asked.

Peter smiled. Last night he stood on one foot on top of the Empire State Building spire just to admire the view. He was more balanced than she would ever know.

“You mean, am I the one you tripped? Yes.” He handed her over the book. “You’re into science, I see, atomic bomb girl?”

“I’m into learning. Whatever form that may come in.” She took the book and tucked it under her arm. “Thanks, trippy.”

“Peter,” he called after her as she spun around to walk away. “You can call me Peter!”

The library became his new home. He took every opportunity to attend in the hopes of bumping into her again. Some days were a success, other’s a failure, but he found himself wanting more. Every time she had a new book and every time he would find the same one to read after her. It wasn’t weird. He was just…trying to find quiet ways to relate to someone new.

So he told himself.

Peter had forgotten how to talk to women after Gwen. It had been so long since he even attempted to date anyone.

“Are you stalking me?” She asked one evening when she walked into the room to find him sitting on his laptop at one of the tables.

He glanced up and shrugged, “I was here first this time. Maybe you’re stalking me?”

She smiled and slid into the seat across from him, “I already have one stalker. I don’t need another. If you’re into me, you better just grow a pair, and ask me out now.”

Peter grinned, “I’m…wait…okay.” He ran a hand through his hair, sitting up straighter, completely letting the stalker comments fly over his head as he got flustered. “Would you like to go on a date with me? Right here. Right now. If you say ‘yes’ then it’s already starting.” He closed his laptop to give her his full attention.

Her eyes widened and she settled happily back into her chair, “Alright, Peter, was it? Nice to meet you. This is an interesting choice of restaurant for a first date. Not what I would have chosen for our dinner and a movie night. I didn’t see a kitchen when I walked in but I chose to trust you.”

“This is the finest establishment the borough has to offer,” he feigned a gasp. “Don’t you insult my choice of restaurant.”

He raised a finger in the air, pretending to call over an imaginary waiter, “Hello, yes, I will take your finest bottle of wine for the table to start. The more expensive, the better. And I will take a big, giant steak for myself and, perhaps, a nice, small salad for the lovely lady?” He shot her a cheeky wink as she let out a laugh.

“Fuck you,” she giggled.

Fucking him was exactly what she did.

They continued their imaginary dinner date in the library until it closed, the librarian kicking them out and shooing them out the front door. They walked into the chilly night air, stopping at a bodega at the street corner to grab a few snacks, as they made their way to her place.

He had slept with other women since Gwen passed but this time was different. There were feelings involved. Feelings that were still in their infancy. Ones that were just sparking to life. But they were there. He didn’t just want to fuck her and run. He wanted more than that. He wanted to stay. He wanted to grow and cultivate whatever path they were headed down. He wanted this to be something.

He was ready to try dating again.

She rolled over in the bed, naked and relaxed, staring up at the ceiling, “That was amazing. You really know how to use that tongue of yours for more than just being a dick. I’m impressed.”

Peter chuckled, “Oh, please, your tongue was nothing to scoff at either.”

It really had been one of the best blow jobs of his life.

He leaned on his side, propping his head up with his hand, and gazed happily down at her, “I want to take you on a real date. Saturday night. To an actual restaurant.”

She hesitated. A shadowed sadness darkened her eyes which she quickly pushed away, “Okay. I think I can do that.”

Peter frowned, “Something wrong?”

She shook her head, leaning over to kiss him as a distraction, “Nope. When you leave, can you leave through one of the side doors? Don’t walk out the front of the apartment.”

That was his cue to leave, apparently. He chewed anxiously against his bottom lip. Maybe he was misreading whatever he thought was going on between them. Maybe she wanted a quick fuck and nothing more. Come to think of it, when they entered here, she had snuck them in the back door, too, making him walk a few feet behind her like they weren’t together.

Maybe she was in a relationship and cheating on her partner with him?

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” She offered, casually urging him to get out of the bed. “Text me. I stuck my contact in your phone earlier.”

Peter left feeling more confused and unsure than when he entered her place.

He lifted his phone as he walked through the streets, searching the contracts until he found her under ❤️Atomic Bomb Girl❤️, and he smiled down at it. A heart. Maybe he was overthinking things. Maybe her front door was just broken. He always went straight to assuming the worst.

Someone slammed into his shoulder, jostling him out of his thoughts, and he glanced behind him. A large, buff man glared back at him. He looked to be in his late fifties and was balding. His massive arms bulged under his tight fitting, worn down leather jacket. He reached out to clamp a hand down around Peter’s upper arm.

Peter frowned and tried to jerk away, “Dude, it was an accident, chill.”

“Did you fuck that girl up there?” That man asked, nodding his head back to her apartment building. There was a crazed desperation in his voice. “I saw you following her home. Did she spread her legs for you and whore herself out? Did you get a good look at that tight, little pussy? Tell me, what did it look like? You take any pictures? I’ll pay you for them.”

Peter jerked his arm out of the man’s grasp, scowling in disgust, “What the fuck? I have no idea what you’re talking about. I wasn’t following anyone. I was meeting a friend who lives there. Fuck off.”

The man leaned forward and inhaled his scent causing Peter to jump back.

“I can smell her on you,” he growled as his eyes rolled back into his head. “That’s her perfume. I know because I bought it for her. You were fucking her.”

That was enough.

Peter shoved the older man off of him and jogged around the corner, waiting until he was out of sight before throwing himself up onto her building roof, peering over the edge to keep an eye on him.

He was just pacing back and forth outside the apartment door, mumbling to himself and fidgeting with something in his pocket.

“Freak,” Peter muttered under his breath.

He pulled up her contact and sent her a text: Some crazy old dude just ambushed me outside your place. Asked about you. Maybe don’t go outside tonight. I think he’s not right in the head.

He saw three bubbles appear as she started to text back but then they disappeared again, leaving him hanging.

Peter shrugged it off. He stayed and kept watch until the man finally wandered off down the street.

The night before he was supposed to take her out on a date, Peter was laid over his bed in his Spider suit sans mask. His police scanner let out more static of nothing as he waited for something, anything, to happen. He was bored but it was too cold to hang around on a rooftop somewhere. He would stay in the warmth of his bedroom unless something exciting came his way. They had been texting back and forth nonstop for the last few days and calling each other every night to talk for hours. He liked it when she sent him pictures of things she was doing around her house during the day. She was adorable and he looked forward to whenever his phone would buzz.

As if on cue, it vibrated across the mattress next to him.

He lifted it up in a gloved hand to read the text. A frown settled over his face as he read it.

Atomic Bomb Girl: ha ha ha i win u lose dontever touch wat is mine again

Right as he was attempting to decipher what she was talking about, taking note of how drastic of a change of text from her usual ones it was, the police scanner lit to life.

“All available units to Linden Boulevard, Oak Ridge Apartments, floor three. Multiple calls of gunshots heard and one reported casualty of a security guard. Suspect is wearing dark clothes, caucasian older male, considered armed and dangerous. Approach with caution.”

His senses exploded in a panicked wave of tingles. That was her place. Her floor. The image of that strange man assaulting him on the street after he left came back to hit him like a ton of bricks. Peter looked back at his phone as the pieces fell into place.

Oh, fuck.

Quiet, controlled anger replaced the panic. His heart rate steadied as a calm chill fell over him. His jaw locked in determination. He reached for his mask, tugging it over his stone cold, deadly expression, and he leaped out of his open window.

Peter Parker no longer fucked around when it came to protecting the one’s he cared about. This was personal.

He arrived at the scene in record speed, landing directly on top of a black S.W.A.T truck as it pulled up. He rapped a fist down on the hood to get their attention.

“Feel free to sit this one out, boys!” He called down to them. “Spidey’s got you covered! I’ll be in and out in minutes. No need to worry. Focus on crowd control. I’ve got a date with a balding fucker. If all goes well, it’ll end up with a quickie in the back of a cop car, as I ride his ass straight to prison.”

Peter threw himself up onto her building, scaling to the third floor and around to find her window. He knew exactly where he would find his perp. His masked face popped up in her bedroom window. It was empty and quiet. He slammed his fist through the glass, slipping his hand inside to find the lock, and shoved it open wide enough for him to shimmy through.

From inside, he could hear muffled cries. Whimpers. They were different from the whimpers he had been able to elicit out of her the other night but he knew them all the same.

Silent as a shadow, Peter crept around the corner. With her hands tied behind her back, her shirt ripped open so her bare chest was on display, and thrown against the couch was his girl. The gun man stood above her. A pistol was aimed directly at her forehead. From this angle, he couldn’t quite make out what was going on, but it looked as if the man was masturbating over her. Trails of mascara ran down her cheeks and she let out muffled cries against the heavy amounts of duct tape blocking her mouth as she struggled to break free.

His anger flared but he tried to push it down to manable levels. He had learned over the years that getting too angry made him sloppy. He needed to control it. Work with it. Tame it into something he could use as a weapon instead of making it a weakness.

Peter crawled up her wall and onto her ceiling, prowling towards the man. Up here, he had a clear view. His dick was out and he was frantically jerking it as fast as he could at her breasts. Her eyes widened in fear but then flashed with hope when caught sight of Spider-Man crawling across her ceiling.

He hadn’t even done anything yet and he already felt pride. She felt a sense of safety around him…even if she didn’t know it was him behind the mask. It made him cocky. Made him want to show off.

When he was directly behind him, he silently lowered himself upside on a web until his face was hung directly behind the assailant.

“I’m actually surprised you can even get it up,” he quipped, keeping his voice light, despite the rage eating at his stomach. “I didn’t know something that small could get hard.”

The man whipped around, his dick flopping against his leg, as he sputtered in shock. His pistol went off, firing aimless at the wall behind Peter’s head.

Peter held up his hands in mock surrender as he jumped to his feet, “Whoa, there, tinycock! Don’t go blowing your load so soon! You’ll miss out on all the fun.”

There was no doubt this was the same man he had met outside the other day. His eyes were crazed with an unhinged, desperation that reeked of a man off his meds. Peter made sure to keep the man’s eyes on himself, holding his attention, instead of on her.

“What’s a sad sap like you doing out of the psych ward? Were you a good boy and managed to snag yourself a day pass?” Peter clasped his hands together like he was excited for him, voice dripping with sarcasm. “And you used it to visit your daughter? Aww, that’s so sweet. Wait a minute.” He pretended to just now notice the man’s cock hanging out of his pants. It had gone soft and shrunken up like a scared little mouse. “Is she…not your daughter? But you’re so old. And she’s so young. I guess I don’t see any resemblance. She’s really pretty and you’ve got-” He motioned a hand around the man’s face. “-all that. Something tells me that there’s more going on here. Wanna tell your pal Spidey all about it?”

The man was silent, blinking in a shocked awe at the masked hero, before finally snapping out of it. Spider-Man always excelled at talking his bad guys into circles with his stream of conscious babbling. The gun raised towards his head but, quicker than the man could even process, Peter had latched his hand around the barrel and crushed it in his grasp with the same ease as one might squish a can of soda after they finished drinking.

“Whoopies,” he joked. “Looks like your gun broke! I wouldn’t pull that trigger if I were you. It’ll explode right back into your face there. On second thought, maybe give it a go! It might improve what you’re working with!”

The man faltered, looking confused and baffled down at his crushed gun. He clearly wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box. That was okay. Peter didn’t need him to be intelligent. He just needed him to be unarmed.

Which he now was.

Peter grabbed him by the scruff of the collar and turned him around to face her, “Do you see that girl there?” The man’s eyes glazed over as he stared down at her exposed breasts. Peter quickly threw a hand over the man’s eyes to block them, manhandling him around like he wasn’t twice his size. “I take that back. Don’t see that girl there. Use your imagination. Remember her face. You know that girl? Yeah, that girl. The one you tied up and assaulted? The one sitting in front of us, scared out of her mind and traumatized. I want you to remember her. Because if you ever, and I mean ever, even think about her again, if she ever crosses your pathetically shriveled up mind, if you ever say her fucking name, speak about her, think about, look in her direction, or ever come near her again…”

Peter dragged him over to the living room window where the slew of police were barricaded outside. He could hear the S.W.A.T crew moving up the stairwell now towards them and knew they only had a few more precious minutes of alone time. He shoved the man up to the window, raising his arm to force him to wave limply at all the cops down below.

His voice lowered to a dangerous growl. Any playful, sarcastic essence it once held in the presence of his girl disappeared so only the man could hear him.

“If you ever fucking touch her again,” he breathed. “I will toss you off of the Empire State Building and laugh through your entire fall down to your grizzly end.”

With his hand still clutching the man’s collar, he jerked him back and smashed his face directly through the glass window. He heard her muffled scream of shock behind him but he knew she would be alright.

A shard of glass stuck out of the man’s forehead, blood dripping down over his half closed eye, and Peter flicked it off down onto the street below.

“That was for trying to taunt me over text,” he whispered in the dazed man’s ear. “I don’t play nice with men like you. Want to see what it would feel like falling to your death? Here’s a little preview so you’ll be sure to know exactly what you’ll be in for if you ever even think about my woman again.”

Peter reeled back and tossed the man straight out of her window, head first, sending him down to the cops below. If he let his anger win, he would have never set a web straight after him, but she was watching and he didn’t want to be that person. She had gone through enough without having to see her Saturday night date murder a man in front of her.

The web latched onto his back at the final moments to break his fall. His legs may have crumpled against the ground…just a little bit…but he was alive. It was more than he deserved but the cops could deal with him now.

Peter spun around to look back at her. She was quietly sobbing, muffled by her gag, but held a look of relief on her face. She brought her teary eyes up to meet his, or where she thought they would under the mask, and gave him a short nod of thanks.

The S.W.A.T team was nearing her door. He could jump out the window and allow them to help her get free or…

She clung onto him, her head buried in his shoulder, as he soared them down the street and away from the commotion below. She cried softly. He wasn’t sure if it was from fear or the trauma or that fact that New York’s very own Spider-Man had just stolen her from her home but he kept a firm hold on her and kept whispering reassuring words in her ear.

Eventually, he landed them on top of his own apartment building, setting her down gently onto her bottom.

She gasped for breath, reaching up a hand to wipe the tears from her eyes, “I always…wondered…what it would be like…to fly…” Her chest was heaving between each gasping word. “Turns out, it’s terrifying. Still, thank you, Peter. For saving me.”

He shrugged, “It’s no problem. I was just doing my- hey, wait!”

She gave him a sneaky smile, still shivering and teary, but proud of herself for figuring it out.

“What?” She asked, innocently. “You think I wouldn’t know your voice? I’ve been listening to it for hours every night over the phone for the past few days.”

Peter reluctantly reached a hand up to pull off his mask, “You’re good.”

Despite having already guessed his secret identity, she still looked surprised to actually see him without the mask on. He squatted down in front of her to seem less intimidating.

“So that was your stalker, I take it?” He asked.

She nodded, giving a sad sigh, “The one and only. He’s a joy, isn’t he?”

He plopped onto his ass and crossed his legs, giving her a shrug, “I don’t think he’ll be bothering you again. I may have had some, ahem, choice words to encourage him to find new hobbies.”

She smiled again, blinking back her tears, “Thank you, Peter. Or, should I be calling you Spidey from now on?”

He laughed, rolling his eyes, “Look, this is a big deal! You better not go running your mouth or else I’ll have to have some choice words with you, too.”

He liked hearing the sound of her laugh, especially after everything she just went though, and he knew she would be okay.

“I have a date with Spider-Man tomorrow,” she giggled. “How exciting.”

Peter chuckled, “The excitement wears off quickly, trust me.”

She scooted closer to bring her mascara streaked face inches from his, “Somehow I doubt that.”

#andrew garfield #the amazing spiderman #tasm #peter parker #tasm peter #tasm peter parker #tasm x reader #tasm fic #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter fic #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker fic #spiderman #spiderman fic

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lukeria314 · 3 months ago

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“You could be lost, but you belong to the world”

Draw a little person on a piece of paper. Give this little person point A and point B. To cover the distance, we must travel in a straight line from one point to the other in 2D and 3D space. But in 3D, we have an advantage. Fold the paper so that points A and B touch. Do you see? They are adjacent. They are next to each other. But this is only for us. The little person on the paper won’t understand this. He still sees the full distance. The arc formed between the points of contact of the two points is the distance that we saw before we folded the paper. And this is still what the little person sees. He is inside this arc.

Now imagine that in 4D space, there is a similar piece of paper that can be folded. We will be inside this piece of paper. We won’t be able to see the fold while we are inside our space. The characters also don’t notice how Amenogzen moves while he’s in his space, casting only his “shadow” onto the three-dimensional space. They are not in the same space with him, they can’t see him the way they should, and they don’t see how he connects the points. This is exactly what Dazai suggests using against Amenogzen. He suggests connecting points while in the four-dimensional space and moving, casting only the shadow onto three-dimensional space, showing only the point where he was and where he arrived, without showing the movement. Using Amenogzen’s own weapon against him.

This is wormholes or the theory of hyperspace jumping. A wormhole is a hypothetical “tunnel” in spacetime that connects two distant points in the universe. This can be justified by Einstein’s theory of relativity and multidimensional hypotheses. Albert Einstein showed that space and time are not absolute—they can be curved under the influence of gravity. Massive objects (like stars) curve space and time, creating gravitational “wells.” If space can be curved, theoretically, it can be folded in such a way that two distant points are brought close together. This leads to the hypothesis of wormholes: they are tunnels through spacetime that directly connect two points. If such tunnels existed, one could instantly travel, bypassing normal distance. The characters perceive space as “flexible” and can move, ignoring three-dimensional limitations. But what does Dazai mean by “If you stop concentrating, you’ll fly away”? Hyperspace requires a lot of energy. Here, that energy is concentration on the point you are moving to. Imagine you are crawling through a tunnel made of non-Newtonian fluid. When you step firmly, evenly, and with force (concentrating your energy on moving to the desired point), you move as intended. But the non-Newtonian fluid becomes fluid and pliable if you touch it carefully. When you lose concentration, your thoughts stop focusing on where you are going, you stop directing your energy, and you simply flow out of the tunnel into what lies beyond.

All of this could then be connected to the Möbius strip. The Möbius strip is a two-dimensional surface with one side and one edge. It illustrates how space can be twisted or altered, breaking the usual rules. In four-dimensional space, just like on the Möbius strip, objects can be connected and move between points that seem distant in three-dimensional geometry but are actually adjacent in higher dimensions. That is, from a four-dimensional perspective, a distance that seems enormous in the familiar world may actually be small, just like on the Möbius strip, where the “two sides” do not exist as separate objects but as a unified entity. After all, they are connected by a twisted form.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd thoughts #bsd theories #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #atsushi nakajima #bsd atsushi #bsd amenogozen #amenogozen

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mariacallous · 4 months ago

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A guest essay by Laurie Winer.

It's as if the so-called shock and awe of that unholy duo—Donald Trump and Elon Musk—combined with loyalists like Kash Patel, Stephen Miller, Dan Bongino, Ed Martin, and many others, has rendered us, for the moment at least, unable to react.

Magical thinking is far from new. Adolf Hitler came to power amid similar lies and conspiracy theories. We should know where that leads. And, while MAGA may ignore the mountains of books written on fascism, the rest of us are not in the dark about what comes next.

As we brace for further actions from a cabinet catering to a serial fabulist, it is important to note that the president's abstruse nonsense isnot random. It has a history. A history that takes us in only one direction, to catastrophe.

Here, then, are things to watch for, all warnings from the well-known story of the Third Reich.

Daily life will take on a surreal quality and, if we do not take some action or join an organized resistance, our discussions will consist of merely repeating the latest horror.

Sebastian Haffner, writing in 1939, noted that “life went on as before, though it had now become ghostly and unreal, and was daily mocked by the events that served as its background…. We were not equal to the situation, even as victims.” Then as now, “many adapt to living with clenched teeth. Unfortunately they form a majority of a visible 'opposition' in Germany. So it is no wonder that this opposition has never developed any goals, plans, or expectations. Most of its members spend their time bemoaning the atrocities. The dreadful things that are happening have become essential to their spiritual well-being. Their only remaining dark pleasure is to luxuriate in the description of gruesome deeds, and it is impossible to have a discussion with them on any other topic.”

People around you will forget that they once were anti-Trump.

Christopher Isherwood wrote of his Berlin landlady in 1933: “Already she is adapting herself, as she will adapt herself to every new regime. This morning I even heard her talking reverently about Der Furher to the porter’s wife. If anyone was to remind her that at the elections last November she voted Communist she would probably deny it hotly and in perfect good faith. She is merely acclimatizing herself in accordance with a natural law, like an animal which changes its coat for the winter.”

The administration will issue absurd denunciations of opponents whose expertise is needed.

Albert Einstein was in Pasadena on the day that Hitler became chancellor, and he never returned to the country of his birth, saying, “As long as I have any choice in the matter, I shall live only in a country where civil liberty, tolerance, and equality of all citizens before the law prevail.” The Nazis attacked him relentlessly in speeches and in news reports. In 1934 at the University of Heidelberg, Nobel Prize winning physicist Johannes Stark, said, “Jewish propaganda has tried to portray [Einstein] as the greatest scientist of all time. However, Einstein’s relativity theories were basically no more than an accumulation of artificial formulas based on arbitrary definitions.” In May 1933, Goebbels issued a brochure entitled “Jews Are Watching You (Juden Sehen Dich An)”, which accused Einstein of disseminating “lying atrocity propaganda against Adolf Hitler”. Under Einstein’s picture was the caption: “Not yet hanged (bis jetzt ungehaengt)”.

There will be parades and possibly mandatory public displays of support for the administration.

In July 2017, Trump went to France as Emmanual Macron’s special guest at an elaborate Bastille Day parade staged to commemorate the hundredth anniversary of the American entrance into the First World War. As planes flew overhead and soldiers precision marched down the Champs- Élysées, Trump stood ramrod straight and saluted the French troops for more than a minute, while Macron merely nodded and smiled. Trump has rarely looked as fulfilled; he was clearly in his happy place. He returned from Paris determined to have a military parade of his own, “but better.” His generals did not agree. “I’d rather swallow acid,” Defense Secretary James Mattis, reportedly said. Eventually Trump got his parade, on July 4, 2019, which he called “The Salute to America.” Mattis was by then out, but attendance was mandatory for Trump’s new acting secretary of defense and new acting head of the joint chiefs of staff. The president hyped the event on Twitter, writing: “People are coming from far and wide to join us today and tonight for what is turning out to be one of the biggest celebrations in the history of our Country.”

A few months after Hitler secured power, all the streets in Berlin were sheathed with swastikas. “It was unwise not to display them” wrote Isherwood. A British journalist named Owen Tweedy wrote, “The election [of March 5] has completely altered Germany, both outwardly and inwardly, so much that it is hard to realize we are in the same country we entered a month ago. The Nazis are out-fascismising Fascismo.” Loud speakers blared out speeches by Goring and Goebbels. Like Trump, Hitler also fixated on crowd size. He described his Nuremberg rally as “the greatest mass meeting ever assembled.”

News sources will disappear or be radically altered.

As the White House kicks AP out of its press pool, and Jeff Bezos declares that Washington Post editorials will be in favor of “personal liberties and free markets”, it’s good to remember what Sebastian Haffner wrote about Hitler’s first year: “Many newspapers and magazine disappeared from the kiosks—but what happened to those that continued in circulation was even more disturbing. You could not recognize them anymore. In a way a newspaper is like an old friend; you instinctively know how it will react to certain events, what it will say about them and how it will express its views. If it suddenly says the opposite of what it said yesterday, denies its own past, distorting its features, you cannot avoid feeling that you are in a madhouse. That happened.”

At first The Munich Post, which had closely covered Hitler since the beer hall putsch in November 1923, continued its reporting, running headlines such as “Nazi Party Hands Dripping with Blood,” “Germany Under Hitler: Political Murder and Terror,” and “Outlaws and Murderers in Power.” On March 9, 1933, five weeks after Hitler became Chancellor and eleven days after the Reichstag fire, the SA gutted the newspaper’s offices while the police stood by. Its journalists went into hiding. At least one ended up in Dachau, others simply “disappeared.”

MAGA will continue to believe what the leader says up until the very brink of disaster.

In the summer of 1939, three months after Hitler invaded Czechoslovakia, Robert Jamieson, a British English teacher living in Essen, wrote to Lord Londonderry, who had recently acted as a go-between British and Nazi leaders: “[The Germans] really believe that the Czech government had voluntarily sought Hitler’s protection and that they would all starve if they do not get this lebensraum and colonies.

The debate about whether or not we should bring Hitler or Nazism or fascism into a contemporary political debate is obsolete. Now it is crucial that we take seriously the warnings gathered for us by survivors and writers. When you look at a photo of a Jew about to be arrested or shot and he or she is staring straight into the camera, remember that it is you they are looking at.

NOTES

Defying Hitler, Sebastian Haffner, 1939 (published in 2000).

Goodbye to Berlin, Christopher Isherwood, 1939

Einstein in Berlin, Thomas Levenson, 2002.

The Man Who Stalked Einstein, Bruce J. Hillman, Briget Ertel-Wagner, Bernd C. Wagner, 2015.

The Guardian, January 24, 2017

Travellers in the Third Reich, Julia Boyd, 2017.

Crowds and Power, Elias Canetti, 1960.

“Against Normalization: The Lessons of the Munich Post”, Los Angeles Review of Books, Ron Rosenbaum, February 5, 2017.

“The Munich Post: Its Undiscovered Effects on Hitler,” Sara Twogood, 2002.

Making Friends with Hitler: Lord Londonderry, the Nazis and the Road to War, Ian Kershaw, 2004.

A long-time journalist, Laurie Winer is a founding editor of The Los Angeles Review of Books and author of Oscar Hammerstein II and the Invention of the Musical (Yale University Press). She now lives in France and is at work on a book called The Hitler Tour.

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everliving-everblaze · 7 months ago

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Fitz's characterization is so interesting and so hard. He's both very kind AND a bit of an entitled jerk, and most people only manage to capture one of the two.

I think this is well-illustrated in the first few chapters of the series. Fitz and Sophie spend a lot of these chapters rolling their eyes and sniping at each other, because they both have an attitude about the whole thing. In particular, Fitz has his attitude about elvin superiority, and Sophie immediately responds to that negatively.

He'd never heard of Albert Einstein? The theory of relativity was dumb? She wasn't sure how to argue. He seemed so ridiculously confident—it was unnerving.

On the other hand, it's very clear that Fitz's heart is in the right place (or at least, a well-meaning place). He has his attitude of elvin superiority, but he's thrilled to welcome Sophie into it as well.

Fitz nudged her arm. "Hey. It's not your fault. You believed what they taught you—I'm sure I'd have done the same thing. But it's time you knew the truth. This is how the world really works. It's not magic. It's just how it is."

(And undoubtedly, he's right. He would have believed what he'd been taught—he did, just different beliefs!)

The thing is, Sophie doesn't particularly want to jump aboard the elvin superiority train that he's so excited about.

"Well, it's like you're saying, 'Hey, Sophie, take everything you've ever learned about anything and throw it away.'" "Actually, that is what I'm saying." He flashed a smug grin. "Humans do the best they can—but their minds can't begin to comprehend the complexities of reality." "And what, elves' minds are better?" "Of course.

Fitz reads as a total jerk with what he's saying! He's completely ignorant of the fact that his belief that humans are stupid and evil is like, gonna hurt Sophie's feelings. Because that's what he's been taught!

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Fitz's character is hugely about prejudice, about people who believe what they are taught, even though it's wrong. And his character is about those people who then have to relearn their beliefs!

Fitz makes so much progress throughout the series in combating his own prejudice, largely through befriending Sophie. His character arc is one of my absolute favorites from any media, ever. I've gone through a lot of the same things he has, having to learn about prejudice and deal with my own biases, the lies that I was taught. His character is very meaningful to me!

But I think that's a piece that so often gets missed when people try to capture Fitz's character. Some people only see the bad parts and choose to portray him as totally evil. Some people focus on the good parts and portray him as more of a victim.

But I don't think either interpretation is totally right. Fitz is nuanced. He means well and truly tries to be kind within his worldview, and once he truly starts to realize his worldview is bad, he works on it! That's way more than a lot of people do. But he he makes a lot of mistakes along the way.

That's a fascinating, relevant character. And that's why he'll always be one of my favorites.

#starting some rereading before unraveled and I'm REALLY trying to work on recapturing fitz's character!#it's so difficult to do but I want to write him again and I want to get it really really RIGHT #kotlc #fitz vacker #stan fitz vacker or perish #meta #kotlc thoughts with catherine #book 1

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purplepeptobismol · 2 months ago

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Yes! I did indeed create a theoretical formula for my time-travel theory that I ALSO invented for a South Park fanfic! Why do you ask?

Jokes aside, I think it’s time for me to break down the formula to explain what all these symbols mean and tell you my thought process while making this. For starters: I’m not a scientist, astrophysicist, mathematician, or smart enough person to exactly know what the hell im even saying. I was only able to have a solid grasp on what this all means because of my more smarter friends, google searches, and physics-related YouTube video essays. Anyways….

Realistically, in order to make something like this work in real life, you’re going to need to know AND have these three major components:

Understand/study everything you know about gravity and the theory of relativity.

Solve the creation of a wormhole and be able to control it within an enclosed space

Create a “Blind Filter” to prevent a total collapse on neighboring grids/columns

Have tools, devices, and technology advanced enough to: detect anomalies and measure temporal signatures in spacetime, create maps of gravitational fields, generate copious amounts of energy to keep a wormhole stable during transit, and have quantum computers to perform complex calculations for navigation.

If you don’t have none of these things, time travel won’t be possible 😔🤙. But, if you do… well.. perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to try! Anyways, let’s start with the first equation!

Wormhole Stabilization: The main purpose for this equation, is purely for the stabilization of a wormhole’s throat to prevent a total collapse! Mind you, wormholes have never been discovered to be an actual thing— it’s all purely a theoretical possibility— unlike black holes!!! Throughout my research, I took refrences from Einstein field equation and the Morris-Thorne wormhole metric in general relativity! Like I mentioned, we won’t know how the equation truly works because we don’t have an actual point of reference, therefore, this equation could be a bunch of hippy dippy bologna!! [*So are all the equations I will mention btw*]. This equation can be rewritten depending on how wormholes would actually work in a non-theoretical sense… BUT ANYWAY— if it were to work, this formula could be something that keeps a wormhole stable in order to be traversable through time!!

Grid/Column & Gravity: Yeah, pretty self explanatory. Because I had to create a formula that needed to be connected to the One-Tab Guide, then the purpose of this formula is to FIND a grid and column by combining general relativity and gravity. There are so many theoretical grids, and the columns are even harder to find since they’re interwoven with other grids/columns!

Spacetime Interval Adjustment: Also pretty self explanatory! This calculates the spacetime distance between the current and targeted timelines. It’s specifically modified for multiversal travel! See, the one-tab guide isn’t just a formula to help with time-travel, but it’s also a formula that can allow multiverse travel across multiple dimensions!!! Wow!!! Personally, I feel like multiversal travel would be a whole lot more easier to accomplish with this formula compared to to the possibility of time traveling in your own column. You won’t really have to worry about exact calculations because you basically just pick and choose which area outside of the specialized grid you wanna go 🤷‍♂️! Though, if you want to go to a time and place in a certain multiverse where YOU exist, you’ll probably have to be more specific with that calculation in order to find your parallel self (if said universe even has one).

Temporal Signature Correction: When you want a certain location marked, you use a geographic coordinate system! And with parallel travel, it’s a Temporal Signature Correction! This basically insures that a traveler goes to the correct timeline by using a unique “temporal signature” (St). No, I still don’t understand quantum mechanics that well (the MCU has ruined the word “quantum” for me). And yes, I still get confused when I think about entropy for too long. Best way to think about it within the context of the one-tab— is that entropy is the universe’s obsession with making things not messy. Each grid could have a unique entropy value to help distinguish between them, higher entropy grids could be more chaotic to the “anchor of reference” of a traveler. Which means if someone messes with time, entropy might fight back by making timelines chaotic or cause a fissure in a grid.

Proper Time Interval: Basically to travel to a specific timeline, the time machine needs to solve the proper time interval required to navigate that targeted timeline. Usually if you miscalculate, you could cause paradoxes, universal fissures, a collapse in the grid, etc.. But in my fic, Kenny created an entirely different machine (a sort of blind filter) to prevent any impact on the multiverse. But, if you don’t have that machine, then this formula is very important in that sense.

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Anyways…. this probably won’t make sense to anyone except me. But I thought it would be cool to have some fictional formula with cool little symbols for this silly little theory. Maybe when our technology is advanced enough, this could all be tested and disproven 🙂‍↕️. Now go read (and reread) my bunny fic! Please…

#iwmoy #fanfiction #science fiction #fic analysis #south park #ao3 fanfic #this will definitely not make sense to anyone #but it’s fun either way

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