#(as in force and momentum and velocity and such)

[shinybulbasaur]

question for my european (or at least non usamerican) mutuals. when you talk about taking physics as a class, what specifically are you referring to

[thetimehorse]

The Green Pill Secret: Energy

This week is all about Energy. Don’t let a boring date get you down. Sometimes things don’t work out, and that’s okay. But often, the energy you share is the energy you receive. If you’re a dead fish, how can you expect your companion to be anything different. Of course, the type of energy you give also matters. What we’re talking about here is Positive Energy. Positive energy is about engagement…

[theskywithin]

SOUL ASTROLOGY - CHECK YOUR RISING SIGN

The First House is the starting line of the soul, the moment your essence chose to return. It’s where you re-entered the world and agreed, once again, to exist in form. This house reveals not just where you landed, but how you chose to appear. The sign on the cusp describes the energetic style you needed to embody in that first breath, not just physically, but spiritually. It holds the imprint of your earliest instinct: the moment your soul said, “I am here.”

First House Aries

You came back mid-impact. Not to conquer, but to survive the silence that once swallowed you whole. There was a life where you waited, bit your tongue, folded your light into something small and acceptable and it broke you. Not all at once, slowly. Quietly. By the time you realized you were gone, there was no one left to scream. So this time, you came as a rupture. A soul that refused to ask permission to exist. A force not born of rage, but reclamation. This rising isn’t loud. It’s loud compared to what came before, the lifetimes of stillness, of staying, of giving your place away. You carry velocity now. Urgency. Instinct sharp enough to cut through the fog. You move before thinking because depth once delayed you into disappearance. People think you are impulsive. But they don’t see the ghost behind your momentum, the one who never made it past the threshold. You are the crack in the ice, sudden, sharp, undeniable, not here to destroy the surface, only to prove something lives beneath it.

First House Taurus

You entered this life like someone relearning trust through texture. As if the soul had been shattered in noise, and needed to find its way back by touching what was real. This rising wasn’t chosen to stand still. It was chosen to feel again, in the small, silent ways no one else sees. You didn’t come back to chase the world, you came to witness it. To hold beauty long enough that it imprints. Because you’ve known too many lives where everything slipped through your fingers. Where love was taken before it rooted. Where the body was rushed, the moment was missed, and nothing was ever yours long enough to sink in. This rising carries the memory of vanishing, not your own, but of everything you loved. So this time, you chose to become the keeper. The vessel. The one who stays. The one who remembers how the light fell that day. How the warmth lingered. You didn’t come back to be untouched, you came to be lasted in. Like a song that doesn’t end. Like the place a soul returns to when it finally wants to rest.

First House Gemini

You came back needing options. Needing space to split, to shapeshift. Not because you are scattered, because you remember what it was like to be trapped in one story for too long. This rising isn’t about wit or charm. It’s about escape. It’s the soul learning how to slip through the cracks before it’s caged. You’ve worn masks before, masks that calcified, that became prisons. This time, you made yourself changeable so no one could pin you down long enough to rewrite you. You move quickly, but not out of haste, out of memory. Memory of what it cost you to stay too long in one room, one role, one truth. Now you carry a thousand windows inside you. You translate the world as a form of survival. You ask questions to loosen the hold of what once claimed to be absolute. You didn’t come here to be known in whole. You came to be wind through a keyhole, the whisper behind the locked door, the flicker that reminds the soul: you are never just one thing.

First House Cancer

You came back to hold the memory of where you were torn from. This rising is the imprint of rupture. Of a soul who remembers the womb as a country it can’t return to. Who remembers being left, or taken, or forgotten, even if no one ever told the story out loud. And so you became the story. You became the echo. The pulse beneath the skin that says, I am still looking for where it’s safe to love without leaving. They say you are sensitive. What they don’t see is that your sensitivity is a radar. A sonar for threat, for absence, for the moment affection becomes danger, or silence becomes goodbye. You learned to read the air because you had to. You felt everything because not feeling would have broken you faster. This rising doesn’t come to nurture. It comes to remember what the body lost before the mind could name it. To build a shell strong enough to carry what was never buried. You came back as a tide in disguise still searching for the original shore.

First House Leo

You came back with the memory of being erased. Not gently, entirely. A soul once dimmed until it forgot its own outline. A voice once silenced so long it stopped reaching for sound. You remember lives where being visible was dangerous, where being powerful meant being punished. And so this time, the soul said: I will not disappear. This rising isn’t ego, it’s reclamation. You built yourself into something that cannot be ignored. Not because you needed applause, but because you needed proof that you were real, that you had heat, that you could take up space and still be loved. People see your light and think it’s confidence. But they don’t see what it costs you to burn like this. They don’t know the ache of wondering whether love only lasts as long as the glow. Whether you are anything without the fire. You didn’t come here to perform. You came to resurrect. To walk back into the world wearing the radiance that was once taken from you, not as decoration, but as defiance. You are the star that learned to light itself.

First House Virgo

You came back through a narrow doorway. The kind that scrapes your edges clean as you pass through. The kind that leaves no room for excess, distortion, or noise. Because this time, the soul said: Only what’s essential comes with me. This rising is not precision. It’s repentance. It’s the memory of having been careless once, with a heart, with a truth, with something you didn’t know how to carry. So now you return with sharp eyes and careful hands. You weigh every word. You measure every movement. Not for approval, for atonement. You don’t scatter, you distill. You refine your presence like something holy, knowing how easily things spoil when they’re left unattended. People think you’re trying to get it right. But they don’t see what you lost when you got it wrong. This isn’t about purity. It’s about recovery. A soul trying to stitch back together the thread it once severed. You didn’t come here to be flawless. You came here to walk barefoot across the broken glass of what still haunts you and make something sacred out of the pieces.

First House Libra

You came back through the doorway of relationship, not for romance, but for reckoning. A soul still echoing with the memory of connection turned cage. Of closeness that cost you your name. This rising isn’t about beauty. It’s about negotiation with absence. You learned, long ago, how to survive love that asked you to disappear. How to smile while vanishing. How to give more than you had, just to keep the tether intact. So this time, you chose to arrive with a face they could love. A voice that knew how to bend. A shape that could fit. But beneath the grace is calculation , not to manipulate, but to manage proximity. You learned how to stay just close enough to be needed, just distant enough to be safe. People think you fear conflict. But what you actually fear is abandonment dressed as intimacy. You’ve lived through the moment connection turned, without warning, into collapse. And now you know how to read the sky for storms. You didn’t come back to be chosen. You came back to remember how to choose yourself  even when the cost is being alone. You are the silence between yes and no, learning how to say I without losing we.

First House Scorpio

You came back wrapped in shadow because too much light once burned you

alive. This rising isn’t about secrecy. It’s about sovereignty. The memory of lives where you were seen too clearly, too quickly, by hands that didn’t know how to hold what they uncovered. There are some betrayals so deep the soul builds a fortress it forgets how to leave. And so you returned this time invisible in plain sight, a face that reveals nothing, eyes that watch everything. You don’t offer your truth. You bury it. Not out of fear, but protection. Because once, you gave too much too soon. You opened and were emptied. You trusted and were torn. So now, you hold your essence like a sealed archive. If they want access, they’ll have to earn it. Bleed for it. Wait. People feel your depth and call it intensity. What they don’t see is the discipline it takes to carry that much emotion without leaking. The sacred violence of containment. The self that simmers, but does not spill. You didn’t come back to be understood. You came back to guard the treasure. To reclaim the parts of you that were stolen in the name of intimacy. You are the locked vault of a soul that once died from being too open.

First House Sagittarius

You came back mid-run, like someone who escaped just in time. This rising holds the memory of confinement. Of belief systems that boxed you in. Of truths that were handed to you like shackles. You’ve lived through doctrine disguised as love, through rooms with no windows, through lives that asked you to kneel when your spirit wanted to burn. So this time, you returned with distance built into your bones. With laughter sharp enough to cut the cord. With questions you won’t apologize for. Your presence is a moving target, not because you’re flighty, but because standing still once meant surrender. People call you bold. But they don’t see the exile that shaped you. The way your hunger for meaning was once punished. The way your fire was once dimmed in the name of obedience. You learned how to look far, because looking inward was once too painful. You learned how to leave, because staying meant silence. You didn’t come back to stay safe. You came back to outrun the lies that tried to own you. You are the flame at the edge of the map, daring the soul to remember: truth doesn’t live where it’s easy, it lives where you risk everything to find it.

First House Capricorn

You came back already carrying weight. Not karma, grief. The kind that calcifies over time. The kind that taught you how to hold what others could not. You’ve lived through collapse of families, systems, lineages, and you emerged with the vow: This time, I’ll be the one who holds. This rising isn’t strength. It’s inheritance of the burdens no one claimed. Of the legacies no one fixed. You wear responsibility like a second spine because you remember what happens when no one shows up. You remember being the one left to rebuild from ash.People think you’re composed. But what they don’t see is the fortress you had to become just to keep from crumbling. They don’t see the child inside, ancient and exhausted, already planning the exit strategy before the story even begins.You didn’t come back for applause. You came back to finish what they couldn’t. To build what lasts. To carry the bones of broken empires and lay them into something that might finally hold.You are the ruin that refused to stay ruined.

First House Aquarius

You came back unreachable. Not out of pride, out of necessity. There was a life where you tried to belong. You handed over your shape. You merged with the crowd, the cause, the great unfolding. And for a moment, it felt like love. Until it didn’t. Until your voice disappeared into a thousand others and no one noticed you were gone. This time, you chose form like a fortress. Mind over feeling. Distance over dissolution. Because you once felt everything, and it nearly took you with it. You do not arrive to connect. You arrive to witness. To remind. To interrupt. You are the soul who once gave too much and now guards the frequency only you can hold. People call you detached. But they don’t see the tenderness beneath the silence, the part of you that still aches when the chorus begins, but doesn’t dare sing along. You didn’t come back to join the song. You came back to hold the note that was missing all along.

First House Pisces

You came back half-submerged. One foot in this world, one still in the dream you left behind. Pisces on the rise is not softness, it’s surrender. Not because you gave up, but because you remembered that fighting doesn’t always keep you safe. You came through quietly this time. No armor. No noise. Just a soul with its palms open, whispering: Let it be what it is. You remember lives where you held on too tightly to form, to control, to separation. Where you couldn’t forgive, couldn’t forget, couldn’t flow. And so this time, you returned as mist. As music. As the echo of something ancient making its way back through flesh. People don’t always know what to make of you. You slip through categories. You absorb what others drop. You carry what leaks from the room. They call you sensitive. But they don’t see the soul inside, still remembering the silence before the beginning. You didn’t come back to escape. You came back to dissolve the illusion that we are ever truly separate. You are the last breath before the return to everything.

MY BOOK HERE :) !!

[inspectori]

First time making a request, so im sorry for any mistakes. But, what about ushijima with a tutor reader who got into volleyball to explain things easier to him?

(this idea was so gooddddd tysm!)

- A SIMPLE COMPARISON -

ushijima x gn!reader

Tutoring seemed like an easy way to build up credits and pad your academic record. Pretty straightforward, too—help students after school in the library for an hour or two, then head home. Easy.

What you didn’t expect was for the top ace of Shiratorizawa, Ushijima Wakatoshi, to be struggling in physics.

He seemed so perfect—almost too perfect—to be having a hard time with anything. So naturally, you called Kiyoko the second you got the assignment.

“I don’t know, Kiyoko, there’s no freaking way PHYSICS is kicking him in the ass,” you whispered-screamed into the phone. Even though you went to different schools, you and Kiyoko had always been close.

“I mean, Y/N, you’re like… weirdly smart. That’s easy for you to say.”

“Okay, you got me there,” you huffed. “But I’m just saying—SHIT HE’S HERE. GOTTA GO.”

You hung up and practically threw your phone into your bag just in time to see him walk in—tall, broad-shouldered, and moving like a final boss. Ushijima Wakatoshi. The ace of Shiratorizawa. And apparently, your new physics tutor.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted, monotone but polite as always.

He sat across from you and pulled out his notebook, flipping to a page filled with the most chaotic scribbles and crossed-out formulas you'd ever seen. It looked less like science and more like cursed runes.

You tried to play it cool, even though part of your brain was screaming, HOW is he struggling with this? Isn’t he a freaking tactical genius on court?!

“So, uh,” you began, grabbing your pencil, “what part is confusing you?”

“All of it,” he said.

You blinked. “Like… all of physics?”

He nodded, completely serious. “The concepts are not landing. My teacher says it’s about understanding the ‘why,’ not just memorizing formulas.”

You sighed internally. This was going to be a long fucking day.

“Okay. Let’s see if I can help!”

An hour went by. You tried diagrams, simplified equations, analogies… nothing. It was like tossing a volleyball into a black hole. He was trying—no doubt about that—but something just wasn’t clicking.

When he finally rubbed his temple and sighed, you caved.

“Alright… how about we try again tomorrow?”

“I have a game tomorrow,” he said, already starting to pack up. “I should be going—I need to practice.”

As he stood and turned to leave, a lightbulb practically exploded in your head. Desperation-fueled brilliance.

“Oh—wait!” you called out.

He turned to face you, expression unreadable. “What is it?”

“I, uh… I wanted to know what time your game starts,” you muttered, fidgeting with your pencil.

“Five.”

“Alright,” you nodded. “Thanks.”

You weren’t really into volleyball. It always seemed fun, sure, but you never had time to look into it—studies always came first. But now? Now you had a mission.

As soon as you got home, you showered, changed, and cracked open your laptop. If there was any chance of getting physics into Ushijima’s head, volleyball was going to be the key.

And to your surprise? Volleyball was way more physics-heavy than you’d ever imagined—angles, momentum, rotational force, air resistance… it was practically a textbook in motion.

The next day, you showed up to the library with a bounce in your step and a folder full of organized chaos—printouts, diagrams, volleyball match clips, and your own doodles connecting spikes to velocity graphs. Nerdy? Maybe. But if it helped him understand, it was worth it.

Ushijima was already there when you arrived, sitting like a statue of focus. Same uniform. Same serious face. Same calm energy that somehow made you feel both flustered and judged.

“Good afternoon,” he said.

“Hey! You ready to see physics in action?”

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

You plopped your stuff down and pulled out a printed screenshot of him mid-spike from yesterday’s game, his body practically horizontal in the air.

“Look familiar?” you asked, sliding the paper across the table.

He studied it. “That’s me. Is this from yesterday?”

“Correct. And also—yes? But this is projectile motion.” You grinned. “See this angle here? That’s your launch angle. The force from your jump gives you an initial velocity upward and forward. Gravity pulls you down, which is why you follow a curved path. The height of your jump, the speed, the angle—all of it can be calculated. Physics is literally why your spike works.”

Ushijima stared at the paper. Then at you. Then back at the paper.

“…Oh.”

You tried not to show how nervous you were. “...Oh? You get it?”

He nodded slowly. “It’s… clearer. The idea of vectors… it makes more sense now. I’d never thought of it like this.”

You leaned in, relief bubbling up. “And torque? That’s what gives your serves spin. Kinetic energy is why the ball keeps moving after contact. Even the way your arms move when you block—that’s angular momentum. Every time you’re on the court, you’re doing physics.”

He was quiet for a second, clearly absorbing every word. Then, something you weren’t prepared for—the faintest ghost of a smile tugged at the edge of his lips.

“You studied volleyball… for me.”

You blinked. “Wha—I mean—yeah? I figured it might help if I explained it in your language.”

He nodded. “Thank you. I didn’t expect that.”

The way he said it—so calm, so sincere—made your face go warm.

“Yeah, well… you’re kinda hopeless without it,” you teased, lightly bumping your pencil against his hand. “But I got you.”

There was a pause.

“I would like to keep learning it this way,” he said, voice low but firm. “If that’s okay.”

“Of course!”

The rest of the session flew by. For the first time, he was really getting it. You could tell by the way his notes were organized, by the quiet “oh”s that would leave his mouth every few minutes. He was engaged. Focused. And actually enjoying it.

“So,” you said as you both packed up, “how are we feeling about physics?”

“Good. It makes more sense now.”

You smiled. Progress.

As you walked out of the library together, something slipped out before you could stop it.

“You know, all this volleyball talk makes me want to join a team or something,” you giggled.

Ushijima looked over, as dry as ever. “I think it would be best if you stuck with tutoring.”

You gasped, offended. “HEY! Don’t pmo.”

He didn’t say anything back, but you could’ve sworn you saw a smirk flash across his face as you both stepped into the fading light of the afternoon.

And just like that, you became Ushijima’s go-to tutor. And in return, he taught you a thing or two about how to play volleyball.

Maybe physics wasn’t the only thing getting a little clearer these days.

( i think i had to much fun writing this 🙁🧍🏾‍♀️)

[bamtor1sss]

can you write something about yeonjun as your boyfriend??

OFCCCC EHEEE.. I kinda got carried away and may or may not have written 1.1k words cough ANYWAYS ENJOY ANONNN <33

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pairing: yeonjun x f!reader

warnings: not proof read, suggestive words but pretty much sfw!~

genre: highshool au for a moment, collage au, cute fluff <3

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𓆩♡𓆪

bestfriend!yeonjun - who has been your best friend since middle school to high school whose always been with you through highs and low, who you totally haven’t hid your feelings from for the longest time and may or may not be picking up on his (not so) subtle hints at you

another late night with yeonjun as you sit with him on floor in his room talking about anything that naturally came up since that was pretty easy to do with him until yeonjun speaks up, “ah y/n you wanna go to this bakery that’s not too far from your house saturday?” of course your eyes perked up and you responded happily “of course we can go- maybe we could invite the others too? oh! oh! gyu has been talking about this type of dessert-” yeonjun didn’t let you finish “I wanted us to spend some.. ah” he clears his throat “time together? just us..”  “of course we can talk the others usually don’t mind when we ignore them-“ yeonjun stopped you again feeling frustrated yet again that you hadn’t picked up on his very obvious hints.. at first he thought he was being too subtle when he asked more often to walk you home, inviting you to what was supposed to be dates with just the two of you but this time.. yea he had enough of it “ no I mean like you and I only.. like a date.. you know” he mumbled the last words out, which of course you couldn’t stop your eyes from widening and your lips from perking up into a small shy smile “ah- o-of course” 

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boyfriend!yeonjun - who got into uni with you, always studies  at your place after classes since studying apparently "wasn't as effective when I do it alone” 

“so if you take the derivative of the momentum with respect to time, and factor in the external forces, you get the relativistic form of Newton’s Second Law… that’s where the Lorentz factor starts to matter at high velocities” yea.. you weren’t listening to a single thing..  just looking at his features and well mostly his lips that looked so soft under the dim light “got it right?” yeonjun looked up eyebrows knitted together and his lips pressed into a thin line in a focused expression “o-oh! yes got it, right” you nod hopping he totally didn’t see your obvious stares and panicked expression “mhm?” he hummed licking his lips as he adjusting his sitting position to face you “then explain to me the subject in detail” of course that had you fumbling while replying “u-um so the momentum factors uh- time and high velocities and stuff” you look down at the paper trying miserably to explain what yeonjun took so much time to explain..” mhm yea?” he hummed and smiled “the laws of-“ you were so focused looking down at the paper rambling and babbling about who knows what- yeonjun cut you off, he kissed your lips quickly pulling away “try focusing better next time...love, and maybe I'll give you a kiss if you get it right” he winked and moved his head back down to papers, that left you totally dizzy after that, and now you were actually starting to pay attention…

𖡎

boyfriend!yeonjun - who always shares his food with you since you always tend to forget to eat when you get busy with studies~ ^~^

 yeonjun sits down across from you sighing after finally being able to sit down after running around campus catching classes, at first you didn’t notice his food when he sat down since you only hummed when he said hello not even looking up from your computer and study books until you could smell the food he had after he took the lid off which made your eyes peek up from your screen to see whatever he had that smelt that good and your glances didn’t go unnoticed... yeonjun took a bite and spoke “mm- did you eat yet? you seem pretty focused in your studies ” “not until after i finish, just a few minutes” you gulped knowing it would be much more difficult after seeing his food but before you could look down he spoke  “I know you always get caught up studying and forget to take care of yourself, but i'm here to take care of you” he extended his chopstick to you so you could take a bite, which you didn’t fight, and took a bite~ 

˖°📷 ༘

boyfriend!yeonjun - who calls you every night to tell you goodnight and how much he misses you and wants to kiss you, which always has you feeling less than sleepy at times~ 

“ahhh y/n i miss youu” yeonjun whined through the phone “i just wanna touch you” you gasped “like hug you- you know... feel up my pretty girlfriend~?” he laughed and you knew he had a dumb smirk on his face “gee i didn’t know my girlfriend had such dirty thoughts” when he spoke like that.. you wished you lived together and not at opposite sides of the campus ..

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boyfriend!yeonjun - who is always so patient with you and sits back to watch you show off your brand new lingerie set you got and wanted to model to him~! ehee 

ever since you and yeonjun moved in together he always had the upper hand in spoiling you every night whether that was making you dinners, taking you to places you’d been wanting to go to or simply kissing you until you felt drunk off his scent, praising your body with all types of words that sound like he was worshipping you like you were a god- either way you wanted to surprise yeonjun with a little gift, so you had him sit down on the couch and told him not to move a muscle and once he finally agreed you happily skipped off into the bed room; after what felt like an eternity you appeared in a pretty dainty white laced dress that definitely didn’t cover any parts below your hips (not like the underwear was covering anything anyways) and you could tell yeonjun was already undressing you with his eyes “ah-ah-ahh~ sit, I'm not done” you did a little twirl which may or may not have been painful for yeonjun to sit there patiently without getting up, you try to hide your obvious smile as you walk up to him while yeonjun tries to hide his obvious boner he’s gotten just from watching you.. with both your hands behind your back smiling so innocently at him, how did you get so lucky?~ 

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TYSMM ANONNN THIS WAS SMM FUNNN JSDIODK!! ₍^. .^₎⟆

[gilded-sunrays]

How fast is Yoriichi Tsugikuni? || Calculating his minimum speed

Yoriichi Tsugikuni is regarded as the most powerful character in Demon Slayer, with him being able to rival and overpower the demon king himself, Muzan Kibutsuji. He is renowned for his exceptional speed and agility; however, the true extent of his speed remains uncertain due to the lack of comparable benchmarks. 

Therefore, today I will make an effort to clarify some of the confusion by applying some of my knowledge to estimate the average speed of this character. From here, you are free to interpret and use this information as you see fit. 

NOTE: SIGNIFICANT FIGURES UPTO 3 DIGITS AFTER THE DECIMAL POINT 

⚠ SPOILER WARNING ⚠

⨳ Muzan's Explosion: Detonation or Deflagration?

To begin, let us examine this image. If we want to determine Yoriichi's speed, then we obviously have to know the relative speed of some other body that we can compare it with. In this case, we will consider Muzan's explosion. [Not using NLM or COLM as it doesn't consider the huge amount of force being exerted]

In an explosion, an internal impulse (force per unit time) acts in order to propel the parts of a given mass into many fragments in different directions. After the explosion, the individual parts of the system have momentum. Obviously, if a body has momentum, it would mean it has a velocity as well, as momentum (p) ∝ v. 

Explosions can be further classified into detonations and delafegations:

[Defragrations: Energy released is in the form of heat like in a flash fire. It requires fuel an external oxidizing agent, rely on the external pressure and are considerably more stable.] [Detonations: Energy is released in the form of high pressure (force). Does not require a fuel and doesn't depend on the external pressure, and involves chemicaly unstable molecules, which instantaneously split that recombine into different products.]

[Defragrations VS Detonations] You can refer to this link for more information. However, to keep this post concise, I will outline a straightforward distinction between the two

⇒ Muzan's explosion is more likely that of a Detonation, rather than a deflagration.

⨳ Muzan's Detonating Speed:

Detonation velocity depends on a number of factors, such as density, it's state, charge diameter and temperature. For solids and liquids, these velocities usually range from 4000 m/s-10300 m/s. Muzan's density is likely similar to that of a human, around 1000 kg/m³ or 1g/cm³. .. Let's compare this density to that of regular explosives:

link here

Although, we can see the closest explosives to Muzan's density are 1.___ ones. However, we can also see even then these velocities aren't propotional to their ascending order of densities, but it does give us some insight.

Though, we cannot determine his charge diameter and temperature [although his flesh appears very red]. Plus, there also seems to be one compound in the given table [ansu] which only has a detonation velocity of a mere 3400m/s. So.. it is very difficult to make assumptions here. So to remain neutral, we will just use the lowest speed value, ie 4000 m/s.

⇒ Hence, we can safely conclude, that muzan likely detonates with the minimum speed of 4000m/s.

⨳ Yoriichi's Attack Range and the Time Needed For Him to Cut All the Peices of Muzan

To evaluate Yoriichi's speed, we will first calculate the total time it would take for him to react and effectively cut all of Muzan's pieces [excluding the 300 pieces, which we will discuss later] before he has the chance to escape.  

So for that, first, we need to determine Yoriichi's attack range by measuring his arm length. Instead of making an estimation using measurements of an average male arm, I decided to accurately measure this out myself:

We know Yoriichi is approximately 6.3 feet tall, which is about 2.6 times the length of his arms. Based on this, we can conclude his arm to be around 73.07 cm. (190/2.6) + sword length (we'll take the average of 65 cm)   

ie = 1.381 m So, the maximum time needed for him to cut down muzan would be: ∴ 1.381 ÷ 4000

⇒ ~0.000345 seconds

⨳ Distance Covered By Yoriichi:

 [I think if you know a bit about physics, you might see where I'm headed.] We know that speed = distance/time. We have already determined the time, and now we need to find the distance to calculate the speed. How can we do that? We can begin by figuring out the total distance Yoriichi's arms cover while swinging the sword:

 To do this, let's refer to the image above. If we examine it closely, we can see that Yoriichi creates arcs with his sword, forming almost a complete circle

Please excuse my silly drawing, but this is my idea of the sword arc. I imagine it as two-thirds of a circle instead of a semi-circle.     

To find the arc length, we will use 2πr × 2/3 Radius: Yoriichi's arms and sword  ∴ 2 × 22/7 × 1.381 × 2/3

= 5.786 m is the length of each slash

⨳ How Many Slashes Did Yoriichi Make?

To finalise, we will check how many slashes he made to cut muzan. Clearly, he wasn't making just one slash for each cut, as that would be very impractical. So, let's see how much work he is doing here: 

Once again, in the image above, we can see that he cuts multiple pieces of Muzan with each slash. On average, let's say he cuts about 2.5 pieces per slash. The picture shows him cutting 4 pieces with one slash and only 1 with another, with one piece just hovering, so the average:

(4 + 1) ÷ 2 = 2.5.  

Now, he also mentions that he cut around 1500 pieces of Muzan, so we can divide to find the total number of slashes he made. That is:

1500 ÷ 2.5

⇒ ie; He made 600 slashes during that time. 

⨳ Yoriichi's Average Striking Speed

Finally, for the moment we all have been waiting for. The speed by which Yoriichi is moving his arms would be: 

n(number of slashes)×distance covered by Yoriichi/max. time frame  = (600×5.786)/0.000345

~10,062,608.696 m/s

For Comparison: this is about 29,337 times faster than sound. ▪︎Have you guys ever played fruit ninja before? If you have, just picture Yoriichi taking on that game in real life; Number of slashes/frequency [1/T]= striking speed/ distance covered (gonna take 1/3 of the circumference of his slashes) Ie n= 10,062,608.696 ÷ (1/3 × 2 × 3.141 × 5.786) ∴ Slashes per second= ~ 831,361 So, if you were to toss about 8 hundred and 31 thousand fruits into the air, Yoriichi would be able to slice through them all in just one second! Meanwhile, I’m here taking like two entire minutes to chop an apple.

⨳ Yoriichi's Average Running Speed

So we have found out Yoriichi's striking speed; however, that doesn't tell us anything about how fast he can run. Since we're already looking into Yoriichi's speed, why not find out about his running speed as well? 

"In an average person, the legs are able to push roughly four times as much weight as the arms can pull. What's more, the legs have an even better advantage when it comes to endurance." 

Although there is no relationship between strength and speed, let us just try finding it ourselves.  

 Fleg-mg= ma (force exerted to lift your leg. Could have used the work formula, but then I realised that you're probably not doing any work when it's your own body. The same could be said for the force, however. Though this is an idealised situation and it really doesn't matter because:) ∴ Fleg∝a a∝v Let force required to push your arm be be f⁰ & leg be f Since f⁰ and f = 1:4 => f⁰/f=v⁰/v = v⁰/v= 1:4

This would mean the legs must also be 4 times faster than the arms.

Ie: 10,062,608.696 m/s ×4

= 40,250,434.784 m/s

For comparison: The speed of light, 299,792,458 m/s is only about 7× faster than Yoriichi's running speed. ▪︎If Yoriichi were to complete a journey around the entire Earth, traversing its full circumference, the time required for this would be: Earth's circumference: 40,075,000 meters Calculation: 40,075,000 ÷ 40,250,434.784 = 0.996 seconds [Wow.. now that's fast o-o] So imagine, if you ever find yourself missing a flight and in desperate need to get somewhere, all you have to do is call Yoriichi. He’ll have you zooming off faster than you can say “I missed my flight"!

poor muzan..

-> The distance between two countries [say, Japan to brazil] would be about 17,371 km (pretty sure it's not the road distance, so lets just just imagine Yoriichi can run on water) Time=d/s = 17371000/40,250,434.784 ...0.4 seconds to reach there.

▪︎But instead of a circumference; what about him covering the entire surface area of the earth? [not the area, but the entire outer surface, covering eacg and every path possible. Just visualize unfolding the entire earth into a flat ground.] So: 4πr² [csa/tsa] =4×3.141×6,371,000× 6,371,000 =509,805,890,960,000 m So the time: 509,805,890,960,000/40,250,434.784 12,665,848.050 seconds Which is about 3,518 hours Which is about 4 months I know now this looks kind of slow, but trust me- this is extremely fast. This pace equates to covering the entire circumference of the Earth approximately 29,348,102 times.. (29 million times)

⨳ Final Thoughts:

A/N: I tried my best to keep this entire post simple and concise as possible. For some reason though, I still feel like it might be more technical than I intended. I’m not sure this post will get much attention because of that. It doesnt matter though, I really enjoyed putting all of this together. I truly hope it proves helpful to someone out there who might find this interesting.

And to anyone who made it till here, I thank you wholeheartedly!! You’re amazing for sticking with all this. And if you think that I may have made any mistakes, then feel free to correct me!

Sources:

Leg Strength as a Limiting Factor, climbstrong Detonation velocity, wikipedia Table of explosive detonation velocities

[lady-asphodel]

[learn your gacha: reference, explanation, interpretation- #2]

Dr. Ratio: Splash Art And Newton's Law

Mathematics are a core part of Dr. Ratio's character ! Especially his promotional elements. But what are those complicated numbers ? Because, yes, they actually mean something !

Let's dive together into the signification of one of Dr. Ratio's splash art equation !

NEWTON'S LAWS

On the top right of Dr. Ratio splash art, we can read: F= dP/dt.

This is a form of Newton's Second Law of motion.

What is it ?

Newton's Laws of motion are three physical laws about the relation of the motion of an object and the force acting on it. They originates from the Philosophiæ Naturalis Principia Mathematica (1687), which also contains Isaac Newton's law of universal gravitation. This book written in Latin was one of the most important work published in the history of science.

The Second Law of motion applies when forces are unbalanced, causing the object to be in motion.

The Second Law then is thus: the change of momentum is proportional to the force acting upon it.

Mathematical explanation:

Momentum depends on the matter, the speed and the direction of the object, which influences its value with time. This phenomenon in math is also called [time] derivative and can be applied to any variable.

In modern form, momentum is calculated like this: P= mv

Or: momentum = mass x velocity

Generally, mass doesn't change with time but velocity does (acceleration); thus force is calculated like this: F= m dv/dt

Or: force= mass x time derivative of velocity

[dv/dt > which is the acceleration]

So: F= ma

( ma stands for mass x acceleration )

In modern form, the Second Laws says that the time derivative of momentum is the force.

So: F = dP/dt

Note: it can also lead to incorrect results when variable mass is added to the equation ( time derivative of mass ). The variables must be included in the equation if mass changes with time.

So: F= dP/dt

And: P= mv

Thus: F= d (mv)/dt

So: F= dP/dt = ma OR F= ma

So; F is the net force. Then: acceleration is proportional to the net force and inversely to the mass of the object.

F= ma so a= F/m and m= F/a

With physic quantity, it is thus: N = kg x m/s²

Or: 1 Newton [net force] equals 1 kilograms [kg] multiplied by 1 metters per second squared [m/s²]

Ex: 1N = 1kg x 1 m/s²

Demonstration:

1)

Aventurine rolled his fucking 2 kg dice at an acceleration of 5 m/s², what is the net force aventurine applied to the dice?

F= 2x5 so....

Yes ! 10N ! He fucking won millions !

2)

Boothill throws goddamn bullets with a fudging net force of 12N at an acceleration of 10 m/s², what's the freaking mass of his bullet ?

m= 12/10 so.....

Boothill throws 1.2 kg bullets, wow ! Deadly !

3)

Sampo kicked a 6 kg bomb into the crowd of Belobog, his net force was 12N ! What was the acceleration ?

a= 12/6 so.....

Lame ! Only 2 m/s² !

Conclusion:

In other words, Newton's Second Law says:

" the lower the mass the greater the acceleration, and contrarily, the greater the mass the lower the acceleration. "

Which is why F1 cars have such low mass, so they can have more acceleration speed !

•

•

•

Wow! I really struggled with that one because math isn't my forte at all. But I did my best to inform myself, understand it and then explaining it in a simpler and more entertaining way I hope.

For those wondering, learn your gacha is a concept I came up with where I explain, teach and interpret references in Honkai: Star Rail. I'm in no way an expert in all the subjects I talk about, but I do my best to thoroughly learn about it as accurately as I can !

I hope you enjoyed it and see you for the next one !

[argumate]

hmm when I think of Newtonian mechanics I recall the relationship between force, mass, and acceleration:

f = ma

and the relationships between acceleration, velocity, and distance:

v = ∫ a(t) dt s = ∫ v(t) dt

or:

v = ds / dt a = dv / dt

which with an initial velocity and constant acceleration gives you:

s = s0 + v0 t + (a t^2)/2

but I just remembered that, let's differentiate it by t to make sure:

v = v0 + at

okay that all looks reasonable!

however I can't remember Newton's "laws of motion" in prose besides "an object in motion / at rest remains in motion / at rest unless acted on by a force" or something like that, what are the rest? Wikipedia paraphrases them as follows:

A body remains at rest, or in motion at a constant speed in a straight line, unless it is acted upon by a force.

At any instant of time, the net force on a body is equal to the body's acceleration multiplied by its mass or, equivalently, the rate at which the body's momentum is changing with time.

If two bodies exert forces on each other, these forces have the same magnitude but opposite directions.

I think 1. and 2. suggest the equations above (but could they suggest different but compatible equations?) while 3. describes what happens when you have more than one object, which is important as the world does contain multiple objects.

these laws were written in Latin in Newton's Philosophiæ Naturalis Principia Mathematica in 1686, the first English translation came 40 years later, let's see how it expressed them:

Every body perseveres in its state of rest, or of uniform motion in a right line, unless it is compelled to change that state by forces impressed thereon.

PROJECTILES persevere in their motions, so far as they are not retarded by the resistance of the air, or impelled downwards by the force of gravity. A top, whose parts by their cohesion are perpetually drawn aside from rectilinear motions, does not cease its rotation, otherwise than as it is retarded by the air. The greater bodies of the planets and comets, meeting with less resistance in more free spaces, preserve their motions both progressive and circular for a much longer time.

The alteration of motion is ever proportional to the motive force impressed; and is made in the direction of the right line in which that force is impressed.

If any force generates a motion, a double force will generate double the motion, a triple force triple the motion, whether that force be impressed altogether and at once, or gradually and successively. And this motion (being always directed the same way with the generating force), if the body moved before, is added to or subtracted from the former motion, according as they directly conspire with or are directly contrary to each other; or obliquely joined, when they are oblique, so as to produce a new motion compounded from the determination of both.

To every action there is always opposed an equal reaction; or the mutual actions of two bodies upon each other are always equal, and directed to contrary parts.

Whatever draws or presses another is as much drawn or pressed by that other. If you press a stone with your finger, the finger is also pressed by the stone. If a horse draws a stone tied to a rope, the horse (if I may so say) will be equally drawn back towards the stone: for the distended rope, by the same endeavour to relax or unbend itself, will draw the horse as much towards the stone as it does the stone towards the horse, and will obstruct the progress of the one as much as it advances that of the other.

If a body impinges upon another, and by its force change the motion of the other, that body also (became of the quality of, the mutual pressure) will undergo an equal change, in its own motion, towards the contrary part. The changes made by these actions are equal, not in the velocities but in the motions of bodies; that is to say, if the bodies are not hindered by any other impediments. For, because the motions are equally changed, the changes of the velocities made towards contrary parts are reciprocally proportional to the bodies. This law takes place also in attractions, as will be proved in the next scholium.

I think people pay a lot more attention to developments on the scientific frontier when they haven't even learned the developments from 300 years ago, so you get these wishy washy descriptions of research in Quanta Magazine that seem more designed to stoke a feeling of awe than explain workable models that the reader can actually apply to real situations to gain understanding of the world.

[magicalbats]

Oh, Captain (Luffy x reader)

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 5222

Warnings: Afab!reader, gendered language, noncon, physical coercion, outdoor sex, inappropriate use of 5th Gear

A/N: My second ever commission and the lovely donor was kind enough to give me permission to post it for everyone else to read. Thank you for a great experience, @avidbroswer!! 🩷🩷🩷

⭐

Let’s help Luffy, they’d said.  

We’re a crew, they’d said. Family. 

You don’t feel very much like family when you’re running for your life from the very captain you’d sworn loyalty to. Or at least, you’re pretty sure that the strange figure with white nimbus cloud hair is your captain. You’d watched it happen from a (questionably) safe distance, when he suddenly transformed in a surge of sparking static electricity that made your skin crawl like it was trying to escape from your bones but it’s still hard to believe that it was really him. Even having seen the reality of it with your own two eyes doesn’t make it any easier to accept. 

Luffy was supposed to be a dark haired, dark eyed youth in the prime of his life. Not this uncanny version of him that giddily laughs with boisterous amusement while he ping pongs about so violently within the craggy mess of scorched earth in the wake of his battle with Kaido that you can feel the massive chunks of rock slamming into the ground as much as you can hear it. One after another, from the left and then the right, they just keep falling in an almost continuous rain of rubble and ruin. The resulting shockwaves very nearly take you off your feet more than once but you force yourself to keep running even when your sore legs scream in protest, aching from the exertion. It was the only choice you really had at this point. 

And it’s not lost on you that this is technically your own fault for getting so close to the fight but you’d wanted to help. All that talk of family and crew, and unwavering allegiance to the Straw Hats had clearly infected your brain because you’d rushed straight into the danger zone despite knowing good and well that you were the only one close enough to make it in time. Now you were the one who needed help and it wasn’t going to arrive soon enough to do you any good. 

What an idyllic fool you’d been. 

“Ah!” You suddenly get tripped up in all the rocky debris laying across the ground and fall to your knees with a seething hiss. Your palms come back scraped where they’d shot out to catch you but you’ve managed to avoid taking the brunt of it to the face. Thank the stars for life’s smallest miracles. 

Panting heavily, you just sit there amongst the broken wreckage and detritus for a harrowingly long beat, trying to catch your breath. You can still hear the chaotic destruction of Luffy — or the man who had once been Luffy — bouncing around like a rubber ball behind you, completely unimpeded by the laws of gravity or common sense. It sounded like he was having a blast. 

Maybe that was good. Maybe he hadn’t even noticed you yet, so lost within the mess of demolished land and too tiny a speck to even draw his attention. You had a chance to escape then, if that was the case. 

Any such hopes quickly fizzle out when his uproarious hooting and hollering abruptly rushes towards you, getting louder and louder until your eardrums start to vibrate. You suck in a sharp, nauseated gasp and slap your hands over your ears as you twist around to look behind you. Just in time to watch Luffy sail overhead like a shooting white comet. The kickback from his high velocity speed hits you seconds later, tearing a shriek from your mouth when the wind hits you full force and as solid as any wall. 

Too busy ducking down with your head between your knees to protect yourself from the sting of flying rocks, you don’t get to see how he manages to pivot his momentum mid air and land a couple hundred yards away. You hear it though. You feel the shock of impact too, when it races through the ground to make the rubble underneath you tremble. It goes quiet then, and unnaturally still. Suddenly all you can hear are your own labored gasps. 

You hesitate to do it but, realizing you have no other option, you slowly lift your face to peer out over all the fallen debris. Standing at a distance, Luffy just looks at you with a fiercely manic edge in his now golden-yellow eyes that makes your veins ice up. You’re more certain than ever that this cannot be your captain. He should have been giving you the usual bright faced, happy go lucky grin he always did when he inexplicably came out on top against all the odds that were stacked against him. Not this — viscous leer of victory. 

But if this wasn’t Luffy then who in the seven seas was it? 

“Have you come to celebrate with me?” 

His voice isn’t quite the same either. More raspy, like the weight of immense power flowing through him was putting strain even on his vocal cords. You don’t think you like that any more than you like the way he’s eyeing you up as if you were a stuffed pig on a roasting spit. Even for his bottomless pit of an appetite, you’d never seen him look at another person quite like that. 

Cautiously slow, you straighten up out of your defensive huddle. Work to get your feet under you without taking your attention off him for even a moment and then stand so you can prepare to … what, run again? A lot of good that had clearly done you. 

“I don’t think it’s time to celebrate just yet.” You tell him softly. “We need to find the other Straw Hats. Make sure they’re all okay. You still remember them … don’t you, Luffy?” 

Your emotional plea only succeeds in giving him a momentary pause. “But I have so much energy left. I just want to dance and shout, and jump into the air! You’ll join me, won’t you?” 

He takes a step towards you, a rather aggressive one at that, and you quickly back up. Something told you if you didn’t agree to go along with this he was going to try and force you into joining in on whatever constituted his idea of merrymaking. Unfortunately you weren’t sure if you’d survive that, given the state of all the crumbled boulders littering the ground on this now desolate stretch of land. 

“No, Luffy. Not right now. We have to - -“ 

With an abrupt jerk, he lurches forward as if to launch himself at you. His rubbery legs momentarily struggle for traction on the ground, as if they couldn’t quite decide what consistency they wanted to be, but you don’t plan on sticking around long enough to find out. Feeling like you’ve forgotten how to breathe, you spin around and make a mad dash for it, barreling straight into a dead sprint. 

It’s a resounding effort in futility. 

You don’t even make it three whole steps before he slams into your back hard enough to take you right off your feet. 

There’s a split second moment of shock at how fast he’d managed to close the distance, and then the ground is rushing up at your face again. 

That dizzying blur of vertigo inducing free fall coupled with the way your vision tilts on its axis very nearly has you spewing your guts right then and there. But if Luffy picks up on the dire, sickened tinge coloring your wounded grunt he certainly doesn’t act it. He just flings his arms around your middle, alarming in their fleshy elasticity and yet still familiar to you, then hauls you up against his front before you can slam into the rocks. 

Everything happens much too fast for you to keep up with any of it. Your brain is reeling, still trying to recover from the impact of his body colliding with yours and the subsequent head rush that followed. So stunned you can’t even find the wherewithal to protest his treatment of you let alone try to fight your way free. Unable to do anything else, you simply allow your limbs to bonelessly flail when he takes a handful of eager steps forward with you in his arms. 

In the next moment Luffy spins you out away from him, snagging your wrist to stop your momentum and make you jerk to another abrupt standstill. The yank on your shoulder causes it to pop, splintering pain racing up your arm as you cry out. He doesn’t care though. He either doesn’t care or he doesn’t notice, because he just pulls you right back into him again, hard enough to make you collapse with a teeth rattling jolt against his chest. 

“Come on!” He laughs, loud and frenzied, his hold on you much too tight where it’s shackled around your wrist. “Dance with me! Aren’t you having fun?” 

Teeth gnashing to fight back the nausea, you bring your uncaptured hand up and brace it against his shuddering frame. You’re more than just a little surprised to find his heartbeat hammering out a sharp, almost violent staccato against his ribcage, so powerful you can feel it thrumming through his skin. It reminds you of an endless procession of war drums. Too many to count and impossibly loud, their ferocity equally intimidating and awe inspiring. 

What in the world had happened to him? 

You don’t have the privilege of lingering on that question for very long. Couldn’t afford to, as you try to get your tired legs situated under you again so you can stand on your own. “You’re hurting me, Luffy. We don’t have time for this right now. Just let me go. Please.” 

But he doesn’t even seem to register what you’re saying as a plea at all. 

A snickering, raspy laugh rattles up out of him, and you vehemently push at his narrow chest with your uncaptured hand. Shove him as hard as you can. He still doesn't budge though, simply reaching up to snag that wrist too so he can forcefully spin you around in his arms. You feel sick with the rush of motion coupled with the fatigue and throbbing pain in your body but there’s nothing you can do to stop it. He’s too strong, too wild, too lost in whatever manic high he’s slipped into after his fight with Kaido. 

Tightening his grip to lock you against his front, Luffy moulds himself to the line of your back with such an unnatural, rubbery motion that you find yourself fighting not to wretch even as his mouth finds your neck. He nuzzles at you for a brief moment, just brushing his lips over your jackhammering pulse before angling his nose towards the spot just behind your ear. The breath he draws is slow and savory, and he seems to hold it in his lungs for an unnecessarily long time. 

When he at last sighs out, displacing some of the loose flyaways in your hair, an unmistakable rumble low in his chest accompanies it. “Mmm, you smell good. Like victory.” 

What the hell was that supposed to mean? “Luffy, just listen to me … don’t do this. I - I don’t really understand what's happened to you but we can figure it out together. We’ll fix it. I promise. But you need to let me go or - -“

“Let you go? But we’re having so much fun. I want to have even more fun with you but you’re not a fighter, not like he was. And you don’t want to dance with me either.”

He sounds dangerously close to pouting when he says that last bit and you give a halfhearted twist in his hold, testing for any slack. It’s no good though. For as little effort as he seemed to be putting into it, his arms were like iron shackles where they’re criss crossed over your body. Dammit. 

“Why?” You seethe in frustration and fast mounting panic. “Why won’t you just go back to normal, Luffy? This isn’t like you!” 

His frame shakes behind you with the giggles that rise within him, making his whole body vibrate like a mercilessly shaken soda bottle. It quickly grows, rapidly multiplying and expanding until he at last throws his head back with a cackling peel of laughter aimed up at the sky. It’s much too close to your ear and deafeningly loud, reigniting your desperation to get away from him, but your wild thrashing just causes him to laugh even harder. Like he found it hilarious that you were scared and trapped against him. 

“I can’t!” He howls, belly laughing so ferociously it makes you jerk in his hold. “I can’t go back until I’ve used up all of this energy! It feels like I’m going crazy but it feels good too! Amazing even! I’ve never experienced anything like it before! I want to keep going but you can’t fight and you won’t dance with me … but there’s something else we can do together, isn’t there?” 

“What are you ta - -“

He releases you so suddenly you don’t even realize you’re crumpling to the ground until your butt has already hit the rocks, surprising a yelp out of you. Fresh pain immediately races up from your backside in a blinding starburst and you outright hiss as you gingerly start to angle yourself onto your hip in hopes of taking some of the pressure off of where it hurts the most. You don’t quite make it that far though. 

Luffy’s hands are suddenly on your shoulders, shoving you forward to sprawl out rather inelegantly on your front. He follows you down, pinning you to the destroyed ground with his body weight, and you immediately start to panic in earnest. Your captain didn’t look like much more than a lanky beanpole at first glance but he was so densely packed with muscle that he felt like a sack of bricks on top of you. It makes it hard to breathe and the quickened, gasping lungfuls of air you suck in don’t exactly help. Your chest constricts painfully tight as you struggle against him, forgetting all logic and reason in your blind desperation to get away from him. 

He doesn’t even seem to notice though, still just as unbudging sprawled out over top of you as he’d been when the two of you were standing. No amount of kicking your legs or bucking up underneath him even gives him pause, and his greedy hands fumble down to your waist where they squeeze tight enough to rip a hurt shriek from your throat. This doesn’t cut through the manic haze spurring him on either. He doesn’t even waver. 

“What are you — stop that! Have you lost your mind!” 

“I’m sorry.” He snickers, not sounding very sorry at all as he shoves his face into the crook of your neck again. Another deep, savory inhale. Another rumbling exhale right against your pulse. The faintest growl that trails afterward is new though and you go painfully still under him, hardly even daring the blink despite all the grimy dust kicked up in your desperate fight for freedom. 

You’d never, ever heard such a sound come out of him before. It scares you perhaps most of all, and you’d seen many a frightening and unsettling thing since stepping foot into Onigashima. Somehow this just really took the cake though. 

“I’m sorry,” He says it again. Contradicting this, his callous worn fingers dip into the hem of your pants and start to tug at them, jostling you with each insistent pull. “I’m sorry, heheee. I just can’t help myself. If I can’t have you I don’t know what I’ll do. You’ll help me calm down, won’t you?” 

Your mind struggles to process that. He was asking you to help him? Not with words or medicine, or even the endless supply of food he would have otherwise asked for had he been in his right mind. He wanted your body. 

So that’s what it was then. What it all boiled down to. 

If he couldn’t fight you and you refused to dance with him then that left only one other option. He was going to fuck it out of his system. Anything to get rid of all the excess energy running through his body, making him vibrate like a lit fuse on top of you. It made a certain amount of sense, you supposed, but that didn’t mean you had to like it. 

Curling your hands into tight fists against the rocks, numb to the abrasive sting, you draw a rattling breath to center yourself. It doesn’t do much in the way of good. “Please don’t do this.” 

It’s like he doesn’t even hear you, a grunt of victory puffing out of him when he finally manages to get your pants tugged down over the curve of your ass. 

“Please.” You gasp, the sound wet and faltering. 

Completely ignoring you now, Luffy reaches further down to fumble with something lower while his opposite hand possessively curls around your hip to keep you in place. You hiccup rather sadly at the distant sound of rustling clothes, almost completely lost under the violent pounding of blood in your ears, but there’s no missing the fleshy nudge against the back of your thigh that soon follows. It leaves a sticky smear where it touches you, inspiring an eruption of horrified goosebumps in its wake. 

You don’t have to look to know what’s touching you. The innate knowledge of what’s happening and who is responsible for this paralyzing fear that grips your aching heart in a chokehold is horrible and suffocating all at once. Stinging tears spring up and well in the backs of your eyes but you clench your teeth to try and stifle the terrified wail threatening to claw its way up your throat, knowing it would only sound hysterical. 

On one hand you almost couldn’t believe this was really happening, even though the reality of the situation was staring you right in the face. It just seemed almost too implausibly awful to be real. 

But on the other, Luffy wasn’t exactly known for his self control or restraint. You knew this. Had even found it charming at one point or another, so you brace yourself for the worst. It just might be the only thing that ends up saving you. 

“Captain - -“

“I’m sorry.” 

He’s suddenly between your legs, pressing up into you from behind. You go ramrod stiff against him, your whole body clenching in genuine distress, but it does very little to stop him. Like he’s done it a million times before, or perhaps thanks to the instinctive muscle memory bestowed upon every man with a working cock, he pushes right in on your entrance until cunt slips start to part under the pressure. A thin, tremulous groan escapes him at the first kiss of your hot guts against the tip and then he just keeps pushing. Even when your muscles tense up and try to keep him out. Even when he meets a great deal of resistance as your body tries its best to reject him. If anything he almost seems to take it as a challenge the same way he would another combatant or a roadblock standing between him and his goals. 

In this case his goal is clearly to sink himself in you right down to the hilt, and he just puts more effort into his cause the more you try to fight it. Leans his weight into you until it feels like your poor cunt is taking the full brunt of his mass. The resulting stretch of your inner sleeve is painful and drawn out, taking much longer than it otherwise would have had you been even slightly prepped for this. 

Your mouth hinges open but nothing comes out for a prolonged moment as the tears break loose to streak down your face. It feels like he’s tearing you in half! Either he was much bigger than you’d assumed he’d be or by virtue of how tightly your interior walls were squeezing him — or even some terrible combination of the two —  it was like you were being split down the middle. You couldn’t even breathe through the choking discomfort of it and a threadbare, sobbing little mewl dislodges from your throat when he at last manages to shove himself past that first barrier. 

Full penetration is much easier for him to achieve after that but it’s no less painful, and you cry out when he snaps his hips forward once, twice, and finally lodges his length the rest of the way in on the third. A pleased huff slips out of him as he settles on top of you, a fresh wave of giggles quickly following suit. It was like he’d gone mad. So wrapped up in the raving power that had turned his hair white that he can only laugh about it even while he’s buried balls deep in your body. 

That short lived pause is all the respite you get though and Luffy is soon moving, rutting into you with quick, sharp little jabs up into your guts. You shriek at the top of your lungs, clawing at the ground while you kick out behind you, but he ignores this the same as everything else. Lying prone and trapped under him, all you can do is take it. 

“Waah — why are you doing this, Luffy? It hurts! If … if the others find out about this - -“ 

“I know, hahaaa. I know. I’m sorry, but I can’t stop. You feel … this feels amazing! Almost as good as fighting Kaido did!” 

You seethe at that, trying your damndest not to get caught up on it right now but that proves to be more than a little difficult. He really didn’t see any difference between fucking and fighting? Somehow that seemed so typically him, and you think you would have probably joined him in laughing about it under better circumstances. 

But better circumstances wouldn’t have found you being roughly jostled back and forth on the ground by his eager, jack rabbit thrusts. The motion of his hips lacks any and all refinement with no technique to speak of, and yet that doesn’t stop you from seeing stars every time his cock blindly rams into your upper wall. It punches the air from your lungs and materializes out of your mouth in the form of heaving, strained bleats of distress that quickly climb to a higher and higher pitch with each second that goes by. Not for the first time today, you feel like you really might throw up. 

“Ooh, that’s …” He suddenly gasps, lets out a half strangled groan, and drives himself into you even harder. Faster. The force of his pelvis slapping against your upturned ass rapidly grows to a steady, almost constant blur of stinging swats — plap, plap, plap, plap — and you shriek at the rapidly swelling pressure on your gut. “Ooh, that’s good. That’s good! It feels so good! I - I can’t - -“ 

Without warning, your pussy abruptly floods with wet, sticky warmth. He hadn’t even given you a chance to beg for him to pull out. 

Your eyes widen to the approximate size of dinner plates but he just keeps pistoning his hips even as the rest of his shuddering frame gives a series of little jerks to thoroughly empty his balls into you. He shows no signs of slowing down or tiring any time soon though, his limitless energy evidently far outpacing his obvious lack of experience. 

It’s a hard thing to wrap your reeling head around just how quickly everything has happened and yet there’s no mistaking it for what it is. The sensation is completely foreign to you but you innately understood it for what it represented, what it could potentially mean for your future. You’re not half as relieved to have it done and over with as you are terrified of what it meant. 

Even more confounding, however, is that it doesn’t so much as make Luffy slow down let alone stop now that he’s painted your inner sleeve a thick, creamy white. Not the orgasm itself which, considering how much he fills you up, should have thoroughly drained him for the time being, nor the possible repercussions of allowing himself to shoot off inside of you like that. He just keeps going without a care in the world, like it wasn’t his problem and he still had more than enough stamina to keep up the harried pace he’d settled into for the foreseeable future. The only sign of it burning up any of his energy at all is the slightly labored quality his breathing takes on, but that’s it. 

Realizing that this ordeal is still far from over, you give your body a twist and try to angle your cunt away from the constant attack of his cock. “H - hold on a minute, what … aagghhh, what are you doing, Luffy? You - - you can’t just cum inside like that, you idiot!” 

“Can’t stop! Heheehe, I can’t, I can’t, not when you keep squeezing me like that!” 

All but wheezing at the intense pleasure of thrusting into the sticky mess he’s made of you, Luffy presses himself flush against your sweaty back and circles his arms around your middle. You brace to shove him off, or at least try to, but you don’t quite make it that far. 

Catching you completely off guard, he yanks you up against him and practically throws himself back onto the ground. The sudden lurch lodges your stomach in your throat, and you let out a frazzled scream as you land on top of him. That he cushions the impact with his rubbery body only comes as a slight relief when you were struggling just to get your bearings straight, disoriented and stunned in the aftermath of his impulsive decision when you unexpectedly find yourself blinking up at the sky. 

You start to pull yourself upright, wincing, only to quickly realize he’s still got one arm looped around your waist to keep you held in place on top of him. The other is — you gasp when you glance down to see him already fisting his cock in hand, guiding it back to your entrance where it had slipped out in that rush of movement. It’s still achingly stiff and unrelenting, like he hadn’t already spilled his seed in you only moments ago, and your heart painfully wrenches with the fresh wave of dread that comes over you. 

“W - wait, please don’t - -“

The head of him finds your cunt, pressing back up into you again, and you outright sob when he mercilessly snaps his hips to impale you on that stiff length once more. You sway unsteadily at the fresh stretch, trying to decide if it’s better or worse in this position, but gravity soon proves itself your enemy when the weight of you on top of him firmly sinks his cock even further into you than before. It feels like he’s tickling at your ribcage like this, but all you can do is give a wounded little mewl and try to steady yourself. Undaunted, he reaches up to tug your pants the rest of the way off. 

“Luffy,” Sniffling sadly, you fight him as much as you can in your physically exhausted state but it’s no use. Your bottoms come off to leave you bare and exposed from the waist down, sitting upon his cock like a whore on her rightful throne. 

The tears quickly start up again, streaking hot tracks down your flushed, sweaty face while he gets himself situated underneath you. His hips lift, nudging you just a pinch higher so he can brace his feet underneath him while his hands come around to anchor around your love handles. Then, he’s moving again. 

Completely unconcerned by your crying, Luffy flexes his legs to thrust up into you and the same fleshy slap as before quickly rises loud in the air again. Plap, plap, plap, plap. The wet squelch of your seeded cunt sucking him in deep on every upward plunge joins in, adding to the obscene cacophony of noises even as you toss your head back to sob at the sky. You can hear him grunting underneath you, clearly enjoying himself quite a bit, but you couldn’t say the same. Your body was already a sore, achy mess of bruises and scrapes, and this certainly wasn’t helping. You were just getting more and more tired by the minute. 

“Nnghhnnn, please, captain. Please don’t cum inside again, I … I’m begging you!” 

The only response he gives is a low, rumbling groan that seems to bleed into you and reverberate endlessly inside your belly, making you squeeze your thighs together as if to block him out. But of course it doesn’t work. Given the way he stutters over a raspy hiss of your name he actually seems to like the way it makes your walls tighten around him, unintentionally though it may have been. There was really nothing you could have done to dissuade or stop him once he’d set his mind to something, and it seemed he very adamantly had his sights set on using your cunt until his energy reserves finally wore out. 

Distantly, you wonder how long that will actually take. 

“You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine,” He chants underneath you, again and again, even when his hands tighten around your hips to guide you into bouncing right along with him. Having no other choice, you snifflingly spread your legs wide and brace your feet on the ground, moving with him despite the throbbing ache in your muscles. “Mine, mine, mine. My prize. My treasure. My woman!” 

He viciously slams his pelvis up at the end, further punctuating his claim on you, and the sharp stab of his cock rips a wild shriek from your mouth. “N - no, captain, please! I can’t — I don’t want it! Not like this! You’re not … aaghnn, you’re not Luffy! You’re not!” 

The only response he gives is a deranged little laugh that makes his cock jump where it’s wedged inside you. That push on your upper wall makes the tension running through you double and then triple, your heaving gasps coming a little quicker now even as his hands travel up your body. You can’t stop him like this when your own were propped behind you along his flexing stomach to help you maintain your balance in this precarious position. It’s not hard to figure out what his intentions are though, and you screw your eyes shut so you don’t have to watch him grab hold of your top. 

A deafening riiiip tears through the air when he shreds it, the poor cotton helpless before his far greater strength. He leaves it hanging from your shoulders in tattered pieces as your tits bounce free, the stiffened tips already aching and strained long before he greedily palms at them like a starved man clutching at a lifeline. The blinding friction of his calloused palms and fingers on your teats makes your cunt spasm around him and you wail, screaming for someone, anyone to save you from your captain. 

Unfortunately for you, help was still a long ways off and Luffy wasn’t even close to running out of steam.

⭐

Crossposted: here

[lanormie]

blipped - mcu crossover au (pt. 2)

what if? the event of Thanos snap happened in the BNHA universe? you're forced to navigate the aftermath of The Blip, where half of the population get thrown back into existence after disappearing for five years. pairing: pro-hero!Shouto x f!pro-hero!reader (ft. slight katsuki x reader) read on AO3 previous part - next part

As soon as you step outside, it becomes very apparent why the entire agency was mobilized. Absolute carnage has descended everywhere you turn. Vehicles are piled up in clusters on the streets, there are screaming and honking and smashing from all around you.

You quickly realize you’re not alone in your fate as you witness dozens and dozens of people materialize from thin air, one after the other. Some are lucky enough to turn up on the sidewalk, while some get unceremoniously dropped off into oncoming traffic, barely having time to process anything before they mercifully get scooped up by some speedster hero.

And by the time you stop someone mere feet from smashing into the ground on their way down from the sky, your commute home is thwarted as your hero instinct kicks into gear. You re-materialized in the same space you had disappeared from, so it’s not hard to deduce that some might have been on a plane when they got zapped away.

You take to the sky and find yourself dotted among dozens of airborne heroes, all flying in frantic patterns as more and more people are dropping from the sky in frightening velocity. You push as high up as you can go without your oxygen gears and take full advantage of your quirk. Where your telekinesis quirk lacks in strength, it makes up for it in range. You’re able to grab people within a large radius and set them atop tall buildings nearby without having to move an inch. 

Though as proficient as your quirk is, you have never been trained to deal with such a bizarre scenario where it’s literally raining men. So when you’re busy holding up two people and two more suddenly appear right on top of you, your footing slips. While you’ve managed to bring the latter two into your hold, you’re losing altitude quick and struggling to brake. The building below is approaching at such a speed that would guarantee you more than a few broken bones, but grant you enough momentum to push back and cushion the touchdown for the four of them. 

You’re clenching your jaw and bracing for impact when something red zips past your face. Then all of a sudden the weight of all four people gets lifted off of you as they get sent to a soft landing nearby by the collar of their shirt.

Finally able to change course, you dash back upwards to catch up to your savior, his strawberry blond hair dances in the wind as he cheerily grins down at you.

“Heya kid! You were about to eat it there!” He chirps, his crimson wings filling back out as a few feathers rejoin their formation.

“Thanks, Hawks.” You offer him a small nod in gratitude, feeling utterly inadequate in front of the Number Two hero. Wait, is he still Number Two?  

“What a day to be off-duty huh?” He tilts his stubbly chin at your gym clothes and severe lack of flight gears. Rawdogging the clouds , as Denki once called it.

You shrug. “Apparently I’ve been off-duty for a very long time now.” 

Hawks freezes at the insinuation, just as another person (re)materializes in the distance behind him. Before you could move a muscle though, a feather jets out and swiftly escorts them to the nearest surface. Damn Hawks and his super hearing.

“So you all–” He points at you then to the person he just saved, gears visibly turning behind his golden eyes. Something snaps him out of it as he takes a sharp inhale. “Sorry, I– I have to make a call.”

“Wait, Hawks!” You yelped. Questions are clawing at your throat now, vying for solution. “Just a second please! Can you tell me what happened?”

“Oh, uh,” He stumbles for the right words. “This may sound crazy, but half of the entire universe disappeared a while ago ‘cause of a villain named Thanos. He’s uh, he’s an alien– It’s a long story.”

Half of the universe . An alien . Neither concept is registering to you at any meaningful speed.

So you focus on the thing that’s been bothering you the most.

“How long has it been?”

“The five year memorial was a few weeks ago.” 

Hawks watches as his reply sends you into a stupor. The avian hero’s only ever known you in passing, a friend of a friend of a friend, and in this moment, he wants to help, to say something. But there’s no protocol for this, no guidelines on how to proceed when these things happen. It’s all uncharted territory.

So he sticks around, making quiet phone calls to his staff, urging them to check the Lawson near the agency where Touya had headed to before his disappearance, while keeping an eye and ear out to make sure no one meets concrete at lightning speed, including you. 

And you, despite still absentmindedly handling the wave of people blipping into existence, is struggling to quantify how long five years are.

Five years ago you were leaving Musutafu for another city and started high school in Ketsubutsu. That alone feels like a lifetime ago. So much has changed during those years and it terrifies you how vastly different things could be now. After all, your boyfriend– as if he’s your boyfriend anymore, seemed to have moved on already.

No , file that thought away for god’s sake, people are literally falling from the sky and you can’t afford to let any of them slip through your fingers.

Cause maybe, just maybe, their loved ones haven’t abandoned them yet.

.

The resurgence didn’t last much longer than twenty minutes, but the chaos persists as you part ways with Hawks and head for the ground. Weaving your way through the clashing waves of people running and yelling into their phones, one step in front of another, you resort to muscle memory to take you towards your apartment, the calamity before your eyes doing absolutely nothing to help guide you there.

The street names are the same, but you don't recognize the shops. The paint and decors are all wrong . Even the trees are different. Even the–

Even the name of your apartment building is different.

A foreboding feeling looms over your head as you plug the front entrance code into the little key pad attached to the door handle. 0425.

It flashes red.

You try again. 0. 4. 2. 5.

It flashes red once more, this time with a warning beep.

The panic you’ve been repressing starts to unravel. It seeps into your blood, hitching a ride to every part of your body till it’s oversaturated, driving you to start banging on the door like a madwoman.

Thankfully, it’s a familiar face who answers it.

“Mrs. Hatanaka!” You almost cheer at the sight of the elderly receptionist. 

“Heavens almighty,” She adjusts her glasses with shaky hands and looks you all over. “Oh it’s really you!” She gasps and pulls you into your third bone crushing hug of the day. You suspect there will be many more. “Where have you been, dear?”

“I honestly have no idea.” You speak into her graying hair, all too quietly. “Mrs. Hatanaka,” You stand back as she pulls away. “I left work in a hurry and forgot my keys, would you mind lending me the spare from maintenance?”

For a moment, she just stares at you.

“Sweetheart,” She finally manages. “Your apartment got repossessed years ago.”

Something shatters in your brain and your vision goes blurry. 

“The building was turned over to a new owner when the previous one went missing with everyone else.” She continues. “They terminated all the leases from the reported blipped folks, even though someone was trying to pay your rent for a while– oh dear, do you need to sit down?”

“What– oh.” Your eyes manage to refocus enough to spot all the floating potted plants and small items swirling in the air around you. “I’m sorry.” Reeling your quirk back with slight difficulty, you set everything back down just as a mop of red and white appears in your peripherals.

Shouto jogs over, disheveled and huffing for air. 

“Things got out of hand on 7th Ave so I got delayed.” He rests his palm on a nearby column, trying to catch his breath. “But I figured you’d be here.”

“Not for long.” You run your hands back and forth over your scalp to chase away the tingling numbness. “I don’t have a home anymore, Sho.”

“I see.” He nods, straightening up. “Neither do I.”

* * * * *

The Todoroki family home looks almost identical to the last time you set foot in here. The furniture have stayed in their exact same spots, down to the light blue shawl draped over the back of the couch. The tatami mat under your feet is cold to the touch, yet the familiarity and the memories of running up and down these halls offer so much warmth. You used to call this place your second home, having spent a whole lot of time here growing up, your cousin-turned-guardian being too swept up in work to really be present more than necessary.

You breathe in this moment of respite along with the toasty aroma of the genmaicha Auntie Rei has made for you and Shouto, and let your shoulders drop for the first time today. You pick up bits of and pieces of Shouto’s recount of running by his apartment and seeing an office building instead as he’s talking to his mom and sister, but you mostly stare at the steaming tea cup. Their reunion was a teary one, at least on Rei and Fuyumi’s end, so it doesn’t feel right to intrude no matter how much you still have trouble wrapping your head around all of this.

To you, no time has passed. You were just here yesterday . Not here in Shouto’s family home but here on this Earth. Then in a blink of an eye, you lost your boyfriend, your home, and five years of your life. Where do you even go from here? Do you just wake up and go to work tomorrow like normal? No, the agency is the last place you’d want to find yourself in right now. And do you even work there anymore? 

“Mom, Nats just heard from Touya!” Fuyumi exclaims from behind the kitchen counter, phone in hand. “He said Kei will try to drag him over tomorrow. Said Toto’s super confused and cranky at the moment.”

“That sounds like him.” Shouto deadpans, completely overlooking the fact that Rei’s tearing up again. 

“Yeah.” Fuyumi starts sniffling too. “Yeah it does.”

You stare harder into your tea. You’ve been in so much shock that you haven’t shed a single tear the whole day, but now you’re approaching the end of the rope and the sight of them crying might hurl you over that threshold.

As if sensing your distress, Shouto attempts to change the subject and blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

“By the way Mom, where’s Dad?”

Nice going Shouto, nobody gets emotional around here about good ol’ Endeavor.

“Enji’s been in a coma for a couple months now.”

Oh.

* * * * *

There is no footage from the battle at the Avengers Complex, so the news turns to cover the sacrifice and death of Iron Man instead. A purportedly quirkless hero, though it’s highly speculated that he has some sort of intelligence quirk, considering all of his astonishing achievements.

Apparently he’s had a hand in bringing everyone back today. You have mad respect for the man, yet in this moment you can’t find it in yourself to be grateful.

You try changing the channel, but it’s a constant repeat of his story and images of the chaos during the resurgence, so you turn off the TV and flop down.

Fuyumi’s pajamas, though extremely soft and comfy, feel super strange on your body. So does the futon you’re sprawling out on in a corner of the Todoroki’s guest room. Even the air you’re breathing in is heavy with something foreign. Everything feels…wrong. It’s like you’re not supposed to be here. Like you’re not supposed to exist .

A knock on the door disrupts your thoughts. 

Sliding the shoji screen door open, you are greeted with Shouto, in PJs that he’s clearly grown out of, and two steaming mugs of something that smells invitingly sweet.

“I promised you hot cocoa before we ‘died’.” The quotation is implied as best as it can in his even voice. He hands you your mug. “Caramel and a pinch of sea salt.”

Your favorite way of jazzing up a hot choc. “Thanks, Sho.”

You and Shouto sit quietly across from each other at the kotatsu, sipping your respective warm drink. It’s comfortable like this, his long legs tangling with yours under the blanket as you let each other arrive at the conversation at your own pace.

Sometimes, the conversation never comes at all.

“Sorry about Katsuki–”

“Sorry about your dad–”

Today, the conversation comes at the same time. 

You bust out a laugh, the taut string in the back of your head snapping. Shouto follows with his own chuckle, you both falling into a manic sort of hysterics from the sheer ridiculousness of your reality. This is it, the dam has broken, you can’t hold back anymore, and your laughter promptly turns into tears.

Before you know it, Shouto has left his side of the table to crawl over to you. He holds you over his right side, he always does when you cry, to cool your eyes down so they don’t swell and sooth your skin as it inevitably becomes raw with salty tears.

He lets your sobs even out to a steady sniffle before reaching for your mug with his left hand and gently heating it back up. 

“Your shirt’s wet.” You frown.

“I’ve got plenty more.” He gives you the mug. 

You sit back, holding your drink and knees to your chest. “What do we even do now?”

“Right now, you need to sleep.” He points at you with his spoon, then moves to aimlessly fish for tiny pieces of marshmallow in his mug. “As for tomorrow, I don’t know.” He sets the mug down, seeing that the marshmallows would just all fall apart. “But you don’t have to do it alone. Cause if today tells me anything, it’s that you can’t get rid of me .”

He finishes his sentence with a light boop on your nose, causing you to genuinely smile for the first time in what feels like five actual goddamned years .

You hold out your hand.

“Friends even in death?”

He grabs it and gives it a firm shake. “Even in death.”

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Glynda: I have an enormous awkward and sticky favor to ask you both.

Weiss: Let's hear it.

Glynda: Ever since Garnet and Nebel fought in Vale the council has been putting pressure on me to spy on your family. Your husband was my friend. You are both my friends. I'm telling you this despite orders to do it secretly out of respect of those facts and the good things your husband did for us.

Ruby: Okay... what now?

Glynda: I think the council would be satisfied with a report on your children's powers and my estimations on their ratings. I do not want to delve into your personal lives.

Weiss: We'll do it.

Ruby: Weiss?!

Weiss: Ruby... Saphron and Jaune's other sisters have us trapped like racoons. Carnel doesn't even remember the way her father looked and I only get to take them into Vale once or twice a month.

Ruby: Mmm....

Glynda: I'd like to start with Nebel. He uses his father's weapons and has his semblance.

Weiss: It's not the full picture. He's also able to set up dimensional barriers which aid his allies and himself and weakens his enemies. He can also read other people's minds.

Glynda: And Garnet?

Ruby: She has something like my power? The speed, the petals, but she also knows things. She can see the past, present, and future. She can select the future she wants.

Glynda: How does that interact with Nebel's mind reading?

Ruby: Garnet doesn't like to talk about it. But Nebel is stronger. He let her win once but she knew he was doing it so he never did it again because that frustrated her worse than losing.

Glynda: The twins?

Weiss: Citrone can reduce incoming attacks and unleash them back on his opponents. Jaune's power worked similar and he told me Saphron and one of his other sisters had this kind of ability. His powers are still manifesting. I asked Garnet how his power worked once and she told me he is manipulating space-time to force retro-causal events to manifest. She told me it works from 'both sides of forever.' He also has a couple of spells. His father's scintilla, his blade beam, and even something between fire and lightning an awful lot alike to an attack I saw Saphron hit Jaune with once.

Ruby: Cherry is less of a fighter. She still uses her 'training wheels' weapon. But she can scatter and reduce attacks like her twin. Garnet told me she is manipulating probability. Its actually similar to the stories I heard about my own mom's abilities. I described it to my dad and he agreed and then when he actually saw it he confirmed that visually it's quite similar. Velocity and momentum just shift around her.

Glynda: How does that interact with your other children's powers?

Weiss: Unclear to me. Ruby?

Ruby: I asked Nebel about it once but he is very reluctant to tell us anything about his siblings' powers. I asked him to tell me if it was like Garnet's foresight and he told me 'no, they taste very different.'

Glynda: Pearle? I know she has your glyphs Weiss.

Weiss: Yes. My children as opposed to Ruby's babies received Jaune and my powers just like the Schnee Family always have. Read into that what you will.

Ruby: Her real power is in her voice. It used to be she had to sing to influence us and control other people but she can just do it now. She isn't interested in fighting and wants to make music and write poetry.

Glynda: And lastly, Carnel.

Weiss: *grimaces* It's ... It's almost too surreal to describe despite the fact I know exactly what it is.

Ruby: We don't know. We don't know anything about it. She doesn't even use a traditional weapon, she never wanted one. She has a deck of tarot cards and a coin. Nebel never trains with her. I thought for the longest time Nebel was the strongest but I think it might actually be her.

Weiss: None of the other children will tell us what it is or how it works. Jaune had some kind of trump rating? She tells me she 'empowers' other people. And she has some kind of healing ability. Jaune was able to amplify himself. To store energy until he could unleash it.

Ruby: We think Carnel's semblance might do something like that. But also when I have nightmares about Jaune or my babies she is there in my dreams to comfort me. She talks to me about them when I'm awake. Salem could do similar things to Jaune, right? But she attacked Jaune with that power.

Glynda: Oh...

Weiss: What?

Glynda: I've seen her too... when I dream about Ozpin dying or Beacon being attacked she's there...

Ruby: I'll talk to her about it. I'll make her stop.

Glynda: Please don't... She... she helps...

[ghostoffuturespast]

WIP Whenever/Sunday Snippet

It's been forever since I've done one of these... @slayerdurge keeps tagging me though, so fine lol. I actually managed to write something since the last time. Also tagged by @streetkid-named-desire and maybe @wanderingaldecaldo? (That's how long it's been.)

Red warnings flashed in her optics as she switched on the forward thrusters, trying to slow her momentum. Instinct made her swing her arms, kick her legs, but there was nothing to push against. No air. No friction. She threw on one of the side thrusters at the last second, rotating her body around to try and land on the flat of her back. Spread out the force of impact. It was a break fall, just like any other time she'd done one. Like any time she'd been thrown on the mat. Or the dirt. Or the concrete. Except space operated on a different set of rules, and she missed the known comforts of gravity. "Fuck!" V slammed into the wall, velocity bone-jarringly hard, and pinballed back in the direction she'd come from.

Uh, tagging with no pressure - @baublekute @shimmer-like-agirl @velmesh and anyone else reading this who also wants to share!

(Does not need to be writing. You can literally tell me you darned a hole in your sock, tag me, and I will freaking reblog your achievement. [I don't know how to darn knit fabrics, so I'm automatically impressed.])

[celaenaeiln]

Dick: *searching for his teammate post-battle* Romeo, Romeo! Where art thou Romeo?

Jason: Shut up. Shut up! Don’t you dare desecrate Shakespearen literature you Neanderthal.

Dick: *offended* what?

Jason: heh, you didn’t get that? Dumb.

Dick:

Dick: Well, Little Wing, right now you’re walking an average speed of 3.1 mph and you’re going to fire your grapple gun to shoot across to another building but in order to do so you need to increase your running speed because the tension on the string is opposing the Normal force at an angle and if you count the weight of gravity, you have to calculate F=ma with cos of 46 degrees or else the grapple won’t latch on but since there’s a high frictional force between your boot and the ground, the coefficient of static friction is much higher than normal so as such, you need to lower the coefficient of kinetic friction so you have the momentum to reach peak velocity needed to boost you into the air and not suspend your rope so that’d be your final velocity squared equal to your initial velocity squared minus 2 times gravity times your final height minus your initial height. So in conclusion, your initial speed of run must be 5.3 mph if you don’t want to bash your head open on a brick wall.

Jason: what.

Dick: oh you didn’t get that? Dumb.

Jason: ….Bitch.

[rhaeverie]

Happy Holidays! The Universe Hates Me. — hrj

‣ pairing: huang renjun x reader

‣ genre: fluff, academic-rivals-to-(implied)lovers, forced proximity, kinda slice-of-life

‣ wc: 3.7k

‣ summary: You don’t hate many things, but you could proudly say that you hate snow and Huang Renjun. And now that the universe has decided that it was a great idea to have you snowed in with the smartass himself, you’ll gladly add the universe to that list.

‣ warnings: slightly one-sided rivalry (more so Renjun’s developed feelings before reader so he’s acting on it before reader even gets what they’re feeling), the pair eat some cup ramen, set in that weird period where they dk how they feel

‣ an: I rly thought this was going to be easy to write but sike (⊙_⊙) ig its bc its basically e2l and these r difficult to write,, I was excited to write Renjun's but idk if I did my own idea justice,, anyways I hope it's still a fun read!

Series Masterlist

You’ve never been so nervous for a final in your life.

Sure, you didn’t find the content difficult, nor did you feel lost. Hell, if you were asked to explain the content with no aids, you can confidently do it. 

The only reason why you were so nervous for a damn final was because you knew that Huang Renjun was going to do better than you. Why? You’re not sure. But you had this gut feeling that his name was going to be listed right above yours on that stupid list and you were not going to let that happen. 

“You need to go home soon, okay?” Karina frowns. She’s all bundled up, a scarf tightly wrapped over her face to shield her from Jack Frost. She knows how much of a workaholic you were, especially when it came to Renjun, “It’s getting late. It’s already dark out and there’s no one else here. Text me when you get home.”

You nod, “I will, I promise. I’ll just finish this last lesson and then I’ll leave. I’m hungry, anyway.” 

Her stern expression softens underneath her scarf and she teasingly ruffles your hair, “Talk to you later, honeybun.” 

You wave and watch her leave before turning back to the scattered papers in front of you, your laptop burning holes in your eyes because you’ve been staring at it for way longer than a physician’s recommendation. The final was on physics, something that wasn’t your strongest suit. It was probably because the way your teachers decided to word the questions on exams screwed you over—but then again, you couldn’t blame your struggles on that. 

Maybe you did just suck at physics. 

Your eyes scanned the lesson you were currently studying, quietly reading it under your breath so that you could process the information—critical threshold… velocity… laminar to turbulent… fluid and momentum… the dissipation of energy…

“Ughhhh!” 

Your heart drops to your stomach, eyes almost slipping out of their sockets at the sound of another person groaning. You clearly remember Karina just saying that there wasn’t anyone else here. 

Then who in the actual fuck…

Your mind jumps to conclusions and thinks up the worst-case scenario. It could be a ghost… were you Scrooge and the ghosts here to visit you? No fucking way… you loved Christmas… Or it could be a murderer. But what kind of murderer groans before he reaches his target?

Using this as an excuse to procrastinate, you quietly push your chair away from the table and stand up. You can recall that the groaning echoed from the back of the library, so you begin making your way down to the back of the room. Your attempt to keep your footsteps quiet, barely lifting them off from the ground.

You guess you were making your way in the correct direction because now you can hear the sound of muffled music. You suppose it was coming out of the other person’s headphones. 

As you approach the end of one of the aisles of books, you bend over and peek through the cracks between the books. Your eyes betray you, not focusing on the figure sitting at one of the tables because the books are in the way. Leaning closer, you squint to get a better look at the figure studying, head bopping to the music blaring through their headphones. 

Who is that?

When your eyes finally adjust, you curse under your breath.

Personally, you would rather it be a murderer on the other side of the shelf. 

Because Huang Renjun of all people? Here? With you? Did the universe hate you or something?

You let out a faint groan, squeezing your eyes before you go to turn back to your table. 

Of course, Huang Renjun would be here and studying late. There’s a small tiny part of you that wasn’t even surprised that Renjun was the only other person at school at this hour. There was a reason why you felt like he was seriously going to do better than you on this physics final. He worked for it despite being naturally intelligent. 

“Fucking Huang Renjun,” you gently let your forehead fall forward, making a gentle thud against the table. Fucking Huang Renjun because, suddenly, you no longer feel hungry and you now desperately wanted to finish a week’s worth of content before leaving. Sure the idea was immature—doing all this for some guy who thought he was smarter than everyone else—but you couldn’t help it. This was how it’s been since junior high. 

And old habits die hard, right?

For the next 2 hours, you push yourself to study for the stupid final, eyes straining as you continuously shift them between your laptop screen and your papers. And you say push yourself because now that you had the knowledge that Renjun was sitting metres away from you, you somehow could not focus for the life of you. It was like he had cast some spell on you to do anything but focus on physics. 

You groan. You have been reading the same paragraph on boundary layers for the past ten minutes, now hyper-aware of Renjun, and words blurring together. Despite your efforts, your mind wanders, and occasional stolen glances in his direction betray your attempts at concentration.

With an irritated sigh, you shake your head, attempting to bring yourself back to the task at hand. Why the fuck is Renjun occupying so much of your headspace?

Feeling defeated, you reach forward, roughly shutting your laptop closed before you begin bunching your papers up together. Not a single fibre in your body even cared if it was organized or not—that was for you to worry about later—because you just wanted out of here and away from Renjun before he completely plagues your mind. 

Finally, you throw your bag over your shoulder and begin making your way out of the library. 

Meanwhile, Renjun, who was managing well with his work catches sight of your figure leaving, winter coat zipped up to your nose. 

“Wait, Y/N!” 

You turn back to find Renjun pushing his seat back, getting up to make his way towards you. 

“Ugh,” you roll your eyes. You continue making your way out of the room, ignoring Renjun’s calls for you to stop. 

The mature response would be to, well, stop and listen, but after Renjun just indirectly wasted 2 hours of your life trying to absorb some information on physics, you didn’t want anything to do with him. You just wanted to go home and eat, before you pull another all-nighter to make up for the lost time. 

“Y/N!” 

You were jogging now, treating the situation like Renjun was some kind of monster coming after you. It was odd that Renjun was keeping up with you, tailing you like he was one of those salesmen trying to get you to try a sample of their product. 

You’re relieved when you see the front doors of the school ahead of you, streetlights illuminating through the small half-windows. You feel your feet pick up its pace, eager to finally get out of the building and get fresh air. 

“Y/N!” Renjun’s out of breath, “You can’t leave!” He reaches out and quickly grabs your wrist. The contact causes shivers to run up your arm and you’re quick to pull your limb back. 

Brows furrowed, you sent him daggers through your glare, “And why not?” 

Renjun fishes his phone out from his hoodie pocket and he holds it up despite you not being close enough to see anything on it, “The news. All the roads are closed. No cars on the roads. We’re stuck in here until they say everything’s clear.” 

“You’re lying.” Your stubborn ass refuses to believe Renjun. 

Renjun huffs, “Just check it for your fucking self if you don’t want to believe me.” His arms crossed and he pushes all his weight onto one leg. 

Reluctant to look stupid, you slowly pull your own phone out. You realize that you actually haven’t looked at any notifications lately, all your focus directed toward studying. When you finally look at your phone, you’re met with tens of notifications, both from the news app and a handful from your family members and friends, mainly Karina, who are asking if you’re going home soon or if you’ve gone home because of the news the city sent out about the roads. 

“And why didn’t you leave?” you say awkwardly, “When they sent the warnings out?” 

Renjun swallows his spit, “I didn’t see any of them either. I was too caught up with studying.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you mutter. The realization of the situation starts to sink in��you're trapped at school, possibly overnight, and your only company is Huang Renjun, the boy who’s decided to make himself the bane of your existence. Then, you find yourself teetering between relief that you're not alone and frustration that you're stuck with Huang Renjun of all people.

Your eyes flicker at Renjun, who’s waiting for you to say something to him. And you do, “This is all your fault!”

Renjun’s mouth falls open slightly, the space in between his eyebrows wrinkling at your accusation, “How the hell is this my fault? I didn’t tell the damn city to close the roads!” Renjun holds himself back from raising his voice, but the emptiness of the halls causes it to bounce off the walls. 

“If I hadn’t seen you studying and being the overachiever you are, I would have gone home earlier,” you argue back. The second it slips from your lips, you realize how stupid you actually sound—but you don’t say anything. Without saying another word, you push past Renjun intending to return your spot in the library. 

Renjun, however, isn't one to let things slide. He follows you back into the library, his frustration evident in the tight set of his jaw. "So, it's my fault you chose to stay? That you didn’t see the notifications?” 

You shoot him a glare over your shoulder, not slowing your pace. "I chose to stay because of you! Trying too hard being a model student." 

Despite it being pretty clear that the argument was childish and that it was going nowhere, you and Renjun were far too stubborn to back down. 

Renjun scoffs, catching up to you. "Trying too hard!? I study because I take my education seriously. Maybe if you put in half the effort I do, you wouldn't be lagging behind."

"Oh, spare me, Renjun.” Your blood boils at his condescending tone, whirling around to face him and eyes ablaze with frustration. "You're insufferable, you know that?"

This is where you can see Renjun physically falter. The stress in his brows goes slack and there’s a shift in his expression, “Insufferable? Y/N I—”

"Whatever, Renjun. I really don’t want to speak to you right now.” You roll your eyes and turn your back on him, “Now, If you’ll excuse me, I have a fucking final to study for.”

Ignoring his attempts to keep the conversation alive, you make your way back to your table, your anger simmering in your chest. Renjun watches you go, a mixture of annoyance and something else in his eyes.

The library becomes a battleground of silent tension, each of you (mostly you) seething in your own space.

You set your table back up the way it previously was. Then, you quickly send your friends and family texts explaining what had happened and why you weren’t home by now. 

You attempt to start where you left off, the words Boundary Layers practically taunting you at this point. The phrase is pissing you off and you’ve read it enough times for you to be able to recite the sentence from the textbook perfectly. 

Wave interference, you read, eyes blinking at the screen—something about paths intersecting and creating new patterns of unity… discord… 

You let your eyes do the rest of the scanning, not exactly absorbing any of the material before you move on. At this point, you feel like not studying entirely. Besides, you weren’t exactly in the right state of mind to be absorbing material. 

The clock at the front of the library reads 8:28 and you feel like taking a nap is the best idea right now. It’ll help you cool off, pull you back in the right headspace and perhaps help you with the all-nighter you’ll probably pull tonight. 

Twisting your body, you pull your jacket off of your chair, folding it to create a makeshift pillow. Sliding your things aside, you place the pillow in front of you and shimmy your butt back against the chair before leaning forward to rest your head against it. In all honesty, it wasn’t the most comfortable place to rest your head, but it will have to do for now. 

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

The shuffling of feet and the clattering of objects woke you from your nap.

You don’t move, nor do you open your eyes, all you do is listen to try and figure out what the hell is going on. Through the fabric of your jacket, you can hear that Renjun is moving things around on your table and you can’t help but feel your anger shoot up. 

You keep your cool on the outside, pretending to stir in your sleep before you peek through half-opened eyelids. 

You’d honestly find this part funny if you were watching a drama. But the thing was, you weren’t watching a drama. And it was anything but funny. 

Slowly, you raise your head to get a better look at what Renjun was up to, fully expecting him to be messing with your belongings. You guess you were doing your job correctly because Renjun seems to not have noticed you looking at him. 

The scene (you embarrassingly admit) warms a piece of your heart just by a little bit—and you hate that it does.

Renjun’s trying to keep your papers organized, stacking them horizontally and then vertically to keep them grouped in the stacks you already had them in. He had even moved your laptop to a safer spot, off to the side. 

The reason why he was doing all this was sitting just across the table from you and to Renjun’s left. 

Two cups of instant ramen.

“What are you doing?'' Your voice comes out more hoarse than you’d like, but it was probably because you’ve been napping for what felt like an hour or two. 

Renjun freezes, lips parting slightly and eyes growing two times its size when he realizes that you’re awake. Sure, he would have had to wake you up sooner or later, but you waking up on your own wasn’t part of his plan. He should’ve done all this a bit quieter. 

“I…” He starts. Renjun gulps and pulls back, wringing his hands through sweater paws. 

You wait for him to give you a coherent reply, looking at him in hopes of forcing one out of him. 

Renjun’s at a loss for words, afraid that you wouldn’t quite get him if he explained his reasoning. He leans over and wraps his hand around one of the noodle cups, gently sliding it toward you. 

You blink at the steaming cup in front of you, caught between annoyance and a peculiar sense of gratitude. "Are you trying to make this situation bearable or something?" 

“Well it wouldn’t be fair competition if only I was able to eat, would it?” Renjun shrugs. From his hoodie pocket, Renjun pulls out a plastic fork wrapped in tissue, one he had probably taken from the cafeteria, and places it next to your cup of noodles, “Eat.” 

You blink at the noodles and eye the boy suspiciously, “You didn’t do anything to it, did you?” You mistrustfully pull the fork toward you, unwrapping it before you dip it into the soup. 

“Of course not… I’m not evil.” A scoff shoots out through Renjun’s nose. 

Renjun pulls out a chair from your table, taking a seat before pulling his own cup of noodles toward him. 

Your eyes linger on Renjun for a moment longer, contemplating whether or not you should believe him. Eventually, hunger wins over skepticism, and you take a cautious bite of the noodles. They taste surprisingly good, given the circumstances. 

For a while, there's a strange quiet as both of you focus on your meal. The only sounds are the occasional slurps and the storm outside rattling the windows. It's a bizarre scene, you and Renjun sharing instant ramen in the middle of the night, trapped at school. Who would have thought? 

As you dig into your food, you start feeling a shift in your mood. The annoyance from being woken up slowly turns into a grudging acknowledgement that Renjun tried to make things a bit less crappy. It's kind of funny when you think about it. You two had a small argument earlier, and now here you are, quietly sharing a meal. It's like an unspoken agreement, maybe a truce, even if neither of you is ready to admit it out loud.

Meanwhile, Renjun seems engrossed in his noodles, occasionally glancing in your direction as if gauging your reaction to the impromptu meal. He looks like he wants to say something, but he’s not choosing to do so despite the tension that is usually present in your interactions being strangely minimal. 

Finally, you break the silence. "Where did you get the noodles?"

He looks at you, brows raising at your willingness to start a conversation. "It’s not my first time staying past dinner. I have a stash in my locker."

“Not surprised,” you mumble. You pick the cup up and bring the rim up to your lips. Tipping your head back, you take sips of the soup, feeling the warmth of the fluids fall into your stomach like a hug. 

“Oh, shut up,” Renjun groans, “Or else I’ll take the noodles back.”

“Lucky for me,” you look at him and laugh, “I’m finished.” When you plop the fork back into the cup, it makes that noise you hear when you scratch the cardboard. 

Renjun hums. "Well then, I guess you owe me one. After all, you're enjoying the hospitality of my secret noodle stash." 

You roll your eyes, trying to maintain a facade of annoyance, but there's a glint of amusement in your eyes. Of course, Renjun would take this opportunity to gain something for himself. It was such a Renjun move. It’s always been like this. "I could've survived just fine without your instant noodles."

He chuckles, taking the last slurp of his own noodles before he deems himself finished, too. "And yet, you still ate it all up like a starved puppy.” 

There’s a beat of silence before you lean forward, resting your head on your propped arm, “I guess I should say thank you, huh?” 

Renjun grins and you only notice it because it’s more evident in his eyes than it was on his lips. He was seemingly pleased with your acknowledgment, but he quickly covered it up with a nonchalant shrug, "Don't mention it.” His voice comes out soft, mirroring the setting, “If you passed out from hunger under my watch, wouldn’t want that tainting my ‘model student’ image.”

You give him a side-eye, feeling the sudden need to tease him, “Don’t lie, Huang Renjun, you secretly care about me.” The statement was mostly a joke, so you think nothing of it. You stack your empty cup onto Renjun’s and stand up to throw it out. You don’t notice the way Renjun freezes in his seat for half a second.

“And what if I did?” Renjun shrugs. He gulps and feels the sudden need to flee the situation—Why did he say that? 

You turn to face him, surprised by his response. Renjun's casual demeanour, though slightly defensive, holds a hint of genuineness. It's a side of him you're not used to seeing, and it catches you off guard. 

"What if you did what?" you ask, feigning ignorance to see if Renjun would elaborate. A part of you is afraid of what he’s going to say. 

“What if I did care about you?” Renjun’s playing with the corner of one of your papers, creating a sound that fills the silence between the two of you, “I don’t hate you as a person, you know… I get that we always compete in grades and extracurriculars but… I don’t hate you as a person.” 

The confession makes your heart skip a beat and you catch yourself beginning to chew on your bottom lip, something you do when you’re nervous. The unexpected sincerity in his words causes you to halt your own, a momentary pause in your banter. You've grown used to the constant back-and-forth, the verbal sparring that characterizes your interactions with Renjun. This, however, feels different. 

"You're messing with me, right?" you reply, half expecting him to smirk and dismiss the entire conversation as a joke.

“What do you think?” Renjun retorts. 

You take a moment to think everything through. You have a good feeling Renjun’s not joking, that he really doesn’t hate you as a person, and you can’t help but think about the other possibilities of what this meant. Then you think about how you feel towards Renjun because you guess you at least owed him that. 

“You don’t need to say anything now,” Renjun assures, “It’s… confusing. Even I'm still figuring things out… I just know that I don’t hate you.” 

"You're not as insufferable as I claim you are,” you begin cautiously, “But it pisses me off that you both distract and motivate me when it comes to school.” And this was true. Today was a good example of that, though you weren’t entirely sure where these stem from. 

Renjun raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a half-smile. "I'll take that as a compliment.” 

You roll your eyes. "Don't get too ahead of yourself, Renjun. I’m just saying—” “—Saying that you like me more than you think you do?” Renjun interrupts, “I know, I know.”

Your eyes narrow at Renjun, “You wish.” 

A moment of understanding passes between you, and for the first time, the competitiveness in your dynamic softens. It's not yet a friendship, but it's a recognition that there's more to each other than the constant rivalry. 

Renjun laughs, which transitions into a yawn. He acknowledges your comment with a hum, “I’m going to take a nap. Wake me up in a bit so I can study?”

You playfully roll your eyes, a small smile lingering on your lips. 

“Well it wouldn’t be fair competition if I didn’t, would it?”

tags: @tytrackfebreze @lovesuhng @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi

an: the next few parts of the series might be posted a day late (until Felix,, but we'll see!). Next up is Jisung which I feel like will be ADORABLE. ty for taking the time to read! I would love to hear your thoughts even if its something short! hope you enjoyed it!

[omegasmileyface]

Methods of travel between the Infinite Realms and the Living Realm

Note: it is tempting to think of the division, or Veil, as a membrane between the realms. In reality, it is not a skin or wall made of any substance. Rather, it is simply the place where an ectoplasmic reality-space and a mundane-matter reality-space rest against one another. It is less like a film of oil floating on a body of water, and more like the glassy surface of the body of water itself. The water holds itself together with surface tension and you can see the divide, but there is nothing actually separating the water and the air. We will colloquially refer to the Veil as "self-healing", but it's really more like it is settling. Simply the increasingly-entropic nature of the mundane reality and the decreasingly-entropic nature of the ectoplasmic reality finding a steady point they're both happy with.

1. Slicing a hole in the division.

Some ghosts specialize in this. It's fairly easy if you have a good sense of fourth-dimensional space and a sharp edge. The cut will self-heal, though, especially if it's messy, so it can be difficult to open a wider gap or leave it open for more than a moment. The mechanics of the slicing are fairly simple; like a shark fin about to surface, a blade that's almost touching the division causes currents that disrupt the fields enough to allow for the tip to easily pass through (see Method 3 below for further explanation), and then the wider part of the blade increases the size of the cut. The trick is in not touching the tip to the Veil before it's been destabilized. Perfektigas Tranĉadon is a good practical guide.

2. Punching a hole in the division.

With enough force (the true amount necessary is not exactly known, but it is known to be colossal), the division can be pushed and broken. This results in a hole which takes a long time to close on its own and produces a number of "shards" or "bubbles" of the division, which can knock their surroundings askew in the fourth dimension. These shards introduce incontinuities in spacetime, which will quickly equalibriate but momentarily pose a threat to laws maintained by continuous spacetime. The punching process also results in a jet of reality-material from the entrance side to the exit side. For further information, consider reading Continuous Space: Geometry and the Infinite Realms. This is the method perfected by the Ring of Rage, and it can also be achieved by any object with enough momentum (that is, velocity times the sum of ectoplasmic mass and mundane mass) being flung at the right fourth-dimensional angle.

3. Exciting the division until it is permeable.

If the spaces in realities on either side of one area are sufficiently energized, the Veil in that area can loosen up into a chaotic mixture of mundane and ectoplasmic space, which is not practically impossible to pass through like a smooth division is. This creates an illusion of a smooth gradient between mundane and ectoplasmic reality— in actuality, a space cannot be simultaneously ectoplasmic and mundane. This would be an impossibility, and, if it impossibly came to be, result in totality-altering paradoxes¹. It's more like tiny pockets of reality too interspersed to be noticeable, like an emulsion of milkfat in water (milk) or an aerosol of water in air (fog). The biggest issues with this method are (1) exciting the ectoplasmic field and quantum field simultaneously and (2) containing the excitement such that it doesn't dissipate in the Living Realm and/or coalesce in the Infinite Realms. Thus far, this is the only portaling method managed by mundane technology, and it is also the one usually used by summonings which do not rely on the summoned ghost for transportation (or fail to peovide transportation at all). Use of Ectoenergetic Excitement Alongside Gauge Field Dynamics in Ectoplasmic Portalling, being written by living scientists, is not a perfect explanation of the "how" or "why", but it explains the "what" pretty nicely.

4. Teleporting.

Ghosts with an ability to rewrite their position in spacetime, via whatever method, generally have no more issue moving interdimensionally than moving intradimensionally. The division only acts as a barrier when moving continuously. If your "teleportation" has issues with interdimensional movement being stopped at the division, it is possible you are actually moving continuously and simply too quickly or abstractly to notice.

5. Simply shifting your balance.

An item or entity which is positioned perfectly on the division can "tip over" onto one side or the other without facing any resistance. This is largely not an actionable method, as it is practically-impossible to obtain the perfect positioning and would require using one of the other methods to obtain it in the first place. Additionally, the smallest destabilization in fourth-dimensional space will tip the object, and the "fall" is not reversible. While a balance on the division is technically at equilibrium, it is a weak equalibrium in this sense and is not stable. An object which is stable in a state of being wholly ectoplasmic and mundane simultaneously (an entity fitting this description is known as a "true halfa", "Limenarch", "owuw-uwow", or y'know just their name that they go by for once) is, however, always positioned perfectly along that balance, and can shift one way or the other without being disrupted. There is no other writing published on this topic that I can find, so you'll just have to take my word on it.

6. Bringing one space to another.

On rare occasions, usually the work of powerful beings with domains in space or reality, such as certain Ancients or the Ghost King, an area of one reality is moved to an area previously occupied by another. In this circumstance, the shift generally causes enough chaos and mixing that the division is permeable. If it happens quickly or instantaneously, though, and the reality that was previously occupying the space is not moved out of the way, the impact with the division can be sudden and dangerous.

7. Entering a black hole.

I'm not entirely sure why this happens. The mundane matter that enters a black hole in the Living Realm measurably becomes a part of the black hole itself, so why does it also appear in the Infinite Realms? Does this disrupt the conservation of matter/energy, or are the two dimensions already on opposite sides of that coin? It seems impossible to tell, as the Infinite Realms have an infinite hypervolume. This is a puzzle that hasn't been solved yet, to my knowledge. Grab something made out of mundane matter and try it sometime, if you can survive immeasurable gravitational pull. It's pretty mind-boggling.

8. Using a natural portal.

Most of the phenomena described above can happen without intentional cause, thus forming a short-lived natural portal. When influenced by certain currents in ectoplasmic flow, these passages can be at odd temporal angles as well as spacial. Thus a natural portal is more likely to cross time than an intentional portal, only a few methods and users of which have been noted to be capable of transtemporal travel. There are not currently any known instances of mundane matter or energy causing a portal which crosses time. Most community centers in the Infinite Realms will have resources available for tracking natural portals.

¹ Trust me, I'd know.

[that-ari-blogger]

The Thesis Knows Where You Live (Destiny Part 1)

She-Ra is a series in no small part about tragedy. It is cyclical, built around a spiral of abuse that drives people to their lowest points. This is a story in which the narrative itself is a force in the story and exerts its will on the characters.

There is another word for this, trauma. Or more accurately, the scars left behind. Physically, yes, but more often than not these are mental refractions of actions and consequences.

As a result, the narrative usually displays itself in subtle ways. The set design influencing the characters’ moods, the coincidences that happen at just the right time to disrupt entire character journeys. Most obviously, in the abject fear that corrupts everyone’s motivations.

But, what if we wanted to get more clear with it? What if the narrative got frustrated with how well everything was going and decided to flip the table entirely?

Then you get an episode as gloriously unsubtle as Destiny Part 1.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD: (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, Lord Of The Rings)

I want to start with context. As in, why is it that the show feels the need to be this heavy handed with its themes.

Most blatantly, this is the penultimate episode of the series’ “darkest hour season”, so it’s going to be dark and have dark themes and have time be a significant element and have themes around time running out.

However, it is also reactionary. I think the story itself is an antagonist. Tragedy is something to escape from (hold this thought), and assigning a will to it allows it to take steps to keep the protagonists held within it. Although I want to be clear, I don’t think this is a conscious character, I think it’s mora aligned with the setting. It is a force of nature; it is the world itself.

Because of this, I think that will is trying to gain a foothold on the story in the same way that gravity reacts to a ball being thrown in the air. It tries to bring it back down, and there’s a little more nuance to that metaphor.

The bluntness of this specific sequence is a display of what that kind of writing can do. It telegraphs that it's hiding Entrapta's eyes from you and continues to do so for several minutes. It builds dread and suspense. Also, remember this specific type of shot.

Now it’s time for “Writer explains Physics to the internet”.

So, gravity is magic that is always acting on a thing. It pulls the little thing towards the big thing but it doesn’t stop pulling. The reason the ball comes back down isn’t because gravity didn’t notice you throw it, it’s because the force of your throw was momentarily stronger than the force pulling the ball down. As time passes because of other magic such as air resistance and physics, the ball loses upwards power and the gravity, which stayed constant (I think) eventually becomes the stronger force.

I am fascinated to know how much of that I got wrong.

The point I am making here is that the will of the tragedy was constant. The characters nearly escaped, they got pretty far, but then they lost momentum, and began to fall back, gaining more and more speed until we hit this episode, at which terminal velocity is achieved, and the ground is closing in.

Essentially, everything is going pear shaped and getting worse at approximately 9.8 metres per second per second.

I love the mask as a character design element for Entrapta. It's a facade, but it's cracked. She is presenting a brave face, but its fractured. Specifically, it is a break that disrupts her vision. She needs to take it off to see properly.

Speaking of which, Beast Island.

Last episode, I presented the hypothesis that Beast Island is the dumping ground for First Ones technology as a metaphor for that cycle of abuse on a grander scale. I.e. the first ones didn’t care about Beast Island or Etheria, they just needed a place to store their baggage.

In this episode, Entrapta looks directly at the camera and agrees with me.

The Heart of Etheria is a nuclear weapon. It’s a bomb that can destroy anything it wants, uncontrollable, self-destructive. It is unsubtle and unnuanced in every aspect. It doesn’t care who is nearby or who it is fired at, it will just destroy them. Just enough warning to know you are buggered, then nothing.

It's the inherent cosmic horror of humanity. The fact we are capable of caring makes it so much more terrifying when we actively do not on such a grand scale.

The thematic implications here are obvious. The first ones didn’t care. They were self-destructive but found a loophole. Instead of sacrificing themselves, they found someone else to do it for them.

No specific example is given for why Etheria was chosen of all places. Magic exists elsewhere, but Etheria got picked because it was the most convenient. The First Ones didn’t have any grievance against the planet at all.

They didn’t even create She-Ra. It was just the first being they found who could last long enough to fire the weapon before she was vaporised.

A foreign power came to a place to mine a resource they wanted, then appropriated and corrupted a deeply significant element of that place’s culture and used the place as a pawn in their own schemes, giving no attention to the people who actually lived there except through the lens of coldness and usefulness. Once again, there is a word for that, and this time, it’s colonialism.

Which is actually a bit weird. Because the First Ones and the Horde were and are unaligned. I don’t believe it is stated directly, but it is heavily implied that those two were the ones fighting in the first place.

The reason I say this is weird is because in stories, sides in conflicts on this scale are usually thematically distinct. There is usually a clear good and evil.

In Lord Of The Rings, there are a lot of ideas going on, but one key theme is free will in relation to war. The Uruk-hai exist only for battle, and have no say in their purpose, while the heroes have something to protect and something to die for. The Hobbits are the embodiment of creature comfort. Hearth and home vs conquest and conflict.

Look, it's this same shot again. One character in the foreground, one in the background. Both showing their emotions plainly but neither able to see the other. Dramatic irony and secrecy. This episode uses this shot a lot.

But the Horde is signified by empire and colonialism. The visual in Princess Scorpia of the family crest graffitied with the Horde logo comes readily to mind.

Having the First Ones mess around with the same theme muddies the water.

These are two sides; the relativity is almost irrelevant and Etheria just got caught in the crossfire. If the nuclear weapon signifies the cycle as also relating to the war, then Etheria represents the common soldier. The person who is told to die for someone else’s cause and that they will be a hero if they do.

Alternatively, Etheria might be a representation of the land itself, scarred by bomb after bomb, riddled with trenches like cuts across a corpse, each full more of blood, flies, and rotting flesh than anything else under the moon. It is the field of poppies, trying desperately to grow, but unable to shake that crimson from its mind.

If the land is a character, it is capable of being harmed, it is capable of being hurt, and it is capable of being traumatised.

Not so subtle detail: Entrapta rises slightly when she tells Adora about her lack of agency. The shot is looking upwards when it receives the news to make that information seem more powerful and imposing. This plan is bigger than Adora, and the show wants you to be afraid of it.

It was true that the relativity of the two sides didn’t really matter, because to Etheria, these are just two colonial forces who want to use it.

What if the Heart of Etheria was a defensive project? Does it matter?

Thematically, yes.

If the project was defensive, then we are led back to our claims about the cycle of abuse. The First Ones wanted to protect themselves, and in doing so, destroyed someone else. They sacrificed Etheria to set themselves free, passing the torch somewhere else, and leaving naught but memories in their wake.

And it didn’t even work!

The First Ones are nowhere to be seen. Their grand scheme failed; they lost the war. Their reaching for safety did nothing but cause more misery and it didn’t even get them out of the hole they found them in.

That is the cycle of abuse in a nutshell. Victims trying to save themselves in the only way they know how, with faulty tools that don’t succeed, and to everyone around them, to Etheria, the difference between victim and abuser is sometimes not even a different face. Thematically, the difference matters, but practically, it couldn't be less important.

Violence begets violence, the only way to stop, is to stop fighting.

But then you would lose, right? Kneel down and let tragedy overtake you? No!

That is the mindset instilled by the vines in Destiny Part 1, just shut up and let destiny run its course. This frames the idea of “just stop fighting” as something said by abusers to their victims, which becomes a Catch 22.

You either fight, in which case you lose. Or you don’t, in which case you lose. It’s a trolley problem.

But I’m going to let you in on a secret. Trolley problems are contrived as all hell. They are engineered to be as simple and unnuanced as possible, and while these situations do exist in real life, I will wager that there is always a third option. It will be more difficult, sure, but it’s possible. Trolley problems feed on a lack of hope, the trick is to let them go hungry.

In this case, don’t stop fighting, change how you go about it. Learn from the cycle, do better. You don’t find peace, you make it. So, find a way to do that.

In other words, take the initiative and start to exert your own will on the story around you, which leads me back to the poppies, to the gravity, and to the tragedy.

Shadow Weaver has just had the rug pulled out from under her, so she is resorting to her old tricks to try and gain back control.

Poppy fields are some of the most humbling things you will ever see, especially on the site of a battlefield. They are the only things that can grow, but they symbolize that the earth is still trying to change. The seasons still march on, and more will come.

Yes, they are wounds, but they don’t run from them or fight them, they bear them like a badge of honour. They remind you of what happened here, they make you think, and they stare you dead in the eye when you try to set up another battle. You may have forgotten, but the land remembers. It will remember every step you take; it will welcome you when you fall, and it will stand warden over your soul. Never again.

Again, scale. This plan is bigger than Adora and Bow. They are powerless against it. That makes it scary, but it also works like a Darksouls boss. The bigger they are, the harder they fall, and the more satisfying they are to defeat.

Keeping that in mind with gravity, because I know at least one person who will read this and take issue with my explanation. Gravity doesn’t pull the small thing towards the big thing, it pulls them together. It just finds an average spot between them. The bigger the thing, the more influence it has and the closer that average location is to it.

If we finagle a bit and substitute physical size for impetus within the narrative, or more simply, agency, then the idea of outgrowing your trauma has a new meaning, doesn’t it?

You will meet in the middle, drawn closer and closer as you lose your ability to move. But if you grow and gain power over your own life, eventually that trauma will orbit you. It will be a part of you always, but it won’t be something you revolve around, it won’t consume you. You are still pulled together to meet in the middle, but you control where that middle point is.

Daniel Dae Kim is a global treasure. He kills every line and thrives in bombastic moments of drama and comedy. Which is why I want to highlight the smallest moment. Specifically, the tiniest of wavers when he says "Brightmoon". Genuinely one of my two favourite lines in the entire series.

Finally, there is tragedy, and here I want to set up the finale with some framing. As in, why do we partake in tragedy? I claimed that the genre is something you escape from, and if you are in a tragedy, my advice will always be to leave. But why do we watch stories we know are going to end well?

Even more peculiarly, why do we enjoy doing it? Tragedy is definitively unfun. So why are they so popular?

The answer is catharsis. You read a tragedy because it makes your world better. Stories aren’t moralistic tests, they are just ways of communicating, and most often, what they are communicating is “this is interesting.”

You read stories to make you feel, and in my opinion, the best part of a tragedy is the moment you stop reading. The story makes you emote in a controlled environment, and you get the best of both worlds from those emotions being both real and not real. They are real in the way that you felt them, but they are unreal in the way that they won’t affect you as much as if you had experienced the heartache.

You feel the joy of escaping from traumatic behaviors, but you didn’t have to live through that trauma to get there.

The moment you stop reading is the moment you realise it isn’t real and that you can go about your day. The story has changed you, and now it is setting you loose on the real world.

Your objective is to leave, the tragedy’s is to come with you.

Final Thoughts

I want to be clear here. Subtlety does not equal good or bad writing. There is a general rule these days, especially on Tumblr, that complexity and effectiveness are the same thing, and I think this is bollocks.

Firstly, this is partly because people can’t tell the difference between subtlety and subtext, which is frustrating. Subtlety is a tool that you can use, subtext just happens whether you like it or not.

But second, this is Tumblr. People talk nonsense all the time. Some of the best posts on this website are a sentence of someone being as blunt or strange as they could possibly be and either being incredibly insightful or incredibly funny. Writing is about finding the right tool for the job. Sometimes that is a wood chisel, sometimes it’s a chainsaw.

Next week is the finale of this season, with Destiny Part 2. Stick around if that interests you.

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