#captain's logbook

[dxppercxdxver]

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[falcie5]

[quatregats]

I'm rereading Master and Commander and I'm deeply in danger of just posting every single passage from it ever but I did love the way that the capture of the prize in Chapter 6 was framed on either side by the logbook's entry, and also the way he transitions out of it to set the scene and tone:

Sunday, July 1 … Mustered the ship’s company by divisions read the Articles of War performed Divine Service and committed the body of Henry Gouges to the deep. At noon dº weather. Ditto weather: but the sun sank towards a livid, purple, tumescent cloud-bank piled deep on the western horizon, and it was clear to every seaman aboard that it was not going to remain ditto much longer. The seamen, sprawling abroad on the fo’c’sle and combing out their long hair or plaiting it up again for one another, kindly explained to the landmen that this long swell from the south and east, this strange sticky heat that came both from the sky and the glassy surface of the heaving sea, and this horribly threatening appearance of the sun, meant that there was to be a coming dissolution of all natural bonds, an apocalyptic upheaval, a right dirty night ahead. The sailormen had plenty of time to depress their hearers, already low in their spirits because of the unnatural death of Henry Gouges (had said, ‘Ha, ha, mates, I am fifty years old this day. Oh dear,’ and had died sitting there, still holding his untasted grog) – they had plenty of time, for this was Sunday afternoon, when in the course of nature the fo’c’sle was covered with sailors at their ease, their pigtails undone. Some of the more gifted had queues they could tuck into their belts; and now that these ornaments were loosened and combed out, lank when still wet, or bushy when dry and as yet ungreased, they gave their owners a strangely awful and foreboding look, like oracles; which added to the landmen’s uneasiness.

[...]

Jack leant back against the curved run of the stern-window and let Killick’s version of coffee down by gulps into his grateful stomach; and at the same time that its warmth spread through him, so there ran a lively tide of settled, pure, unfevered happiness – a happiness that another commander (remembering his own first prize) might have discerned from the log-entry, although it was not specifically mentioned there: 1/2 past 10 tacked, 11 in courses, reefed topsail. AM cloudy and rain. 1/2 past 4 chase observed E by S, distance 1/2 mile. Bore up and took possession of dº, which proved to be L’Aimable Louise, French polacre laden with corn and general merchandise for Cette, of about 200 tons, 6 guns and 19 men. Sent her with an officer and eight men to Mahon.

[mindless-sailor]

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃⋆｡About Me｡⋆𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃

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𓆉𓆝𓇼𓆟 ��°‧𓆝𓆡𓆜

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﹏𓊝﹏

𓇼 As stated before this is a kink blog. Sensitive topics will be discussed. 𓇼

☆I am a switch first and foremost, so most of my content will be all over the place.

Content warnings:NSFW TOPICS?

[G]-> Giving

[R]-> Receiving

[Green(very much yes!)]:Back-handed praise/normal praise[G/R], orgasm control/denial[R], overstimulation[G/R],light bondage [G/R],knives [G/R], public play/teasing [R], free-use/possessive ownership [R], objectification [G/R], corruption [G/R],oral-fixation [G/R], light cnc [R], blood kink, gun kink [G/R], masks, “stupid mutt” but not in the pet play way in the “you’re fucking pathetic and desperate” way yk? [R], Somno [R], cockwarming [G/R], breeding [G/R], Biting/marking [G/R], divinity/worship [G/R], temperature play [G/R]

[Yellow (willing to try)]: Long lasting sessions [G/R], spanking [R], predator/prey [G/R], pictures/videos during sex [G/R],Stalking [G/R],Mommy/daddy (title only) [G/R]

[red (hard no’s)]: toilet play, scat, piss, raceplay, ageplay, morally incorrect situations, heavy impact play, intense pet play, tickling, cheating, feet, rape, vomit, pregnancy fetish, dykebreaking, detrans, sneeze, feederism/ED kink, etc.

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[bisexualshanks]

no wonder he always keeps that damn shirt unbuttoned it wouldn't fit otherwise

[nocternalrandomness]

ATP Aesthetics

[mnkeydluffy]

i am not immune to the sabo luffy reunion i am on the floor sobbing

[mydearlybeloathed]

"do not kiss me again"

Whenever you leave a room, you leave a kiss on Zoro’s cheek. It’s become such a habit that you do it without ever thinking (and he’ll deny everything, but he leans toward you when he sees you get up to leave).

Sometimes you did it without ever saying a word, eyes still on the logbook Nami had you double check as you stood to put away your coffee mug. Zoro, still sat in the chair beside yours, barely acknowledges as you cradle the back of his head, angling his cheek toward you to press a chaste kiss there. 

It’s somewhat of a ritual, a way for affection to be shared without the need for words, which neither of you were particularly good with. Sure, the crew rolled their eyes and gagged nearly every time, but they thought it was sweet for the most part (save for the stupid cook).

Luffy would think it's sweet too, if he actually understood, that is. He knows you and Zoro are exclusive cause you love each other and all that jazz, but he doesn’t get that the affection you’ll show each other is reserved for that type of relationship. So after the first ten times he sees you leave a kiss on Zoro’s cheek as you leave a room, he assumes this is some new thing to do. A new way to say goodbye.

Safe to say, Usopp was less than receptive to his farewell leaving breakfast that day.

“Gah! Luffy!”

“They started it!”

You froze at the sink, trying so very hard to not smile, but then you looked at Zoro, and laughter bubbled out of you. “Luffy—” You giggled “—that’s a me and Zoro thing. Like, a me and Zoro thing.”

He blinked slowly, nodding even slower. “Psh, I knew that.”

Usopp was still wiping his cheek with his napkin, shooting his captain a narrowed look. “Do not kiss me again.”

[inseobts]

weird request but reader biting laws ear like to mark him??? not in a sexual setting like in a cute way..weird but cute

Bite-Sized Affection

law × gn!reader

words count: 1.0k

tags: established relationship, fluff, affectionate biting

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

“You’re gonna what?”

Law raises an eyebrow, pen paused mid-sentence, the logbook in front of him left hanging as he gives you the look... somewhere between exhausted and amused, like he’s still deciding whether to sigh or smirk.

You stare him dead in the eye “Bite your ear.”

He exhales, slow “Why?”

“Because I love you,” you say, far too casually, leaning forward over the arm of the couch in his quarters, your chin on your folded arms “And also, your ear looks biteable.”

Law stares.

You grin.

“…That’s not a reason,” he mutters, but there’s a twitch at the corner of his mouth. He’s pretending to go back to his writing, but he’s not fooling anyone. You see the flush crawling up his neck, just barely “You’re weird.”

“You’re dating me.”

“I’m reconsidering.”

“No, you’re not.” you chirp, and without another warning, you lean forward and gently nibble at the shell of his ear. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to leave a ghost of teeth, like a kitten might.

Law flinches “Oi—!”

“Shh. I’m marking my territory.”

“You’re not a dog.”

“Cats do it too. And I’m cuter.”

He groans and drags a hand down his face, leaning away but not too far “This is why I don’t let you into my office during reports.”

“But I’m your emotional support gremlin.”

“And yet, I still write in peace before you show up.”

There’s a knock on the door. Law glares at it like it offended him personally.

Shachi sticks his head in “Captain, you—”

Then stops. Blinks. Eyes you, your suspicious proximity to Law’s head. Eyes Law, who looks mildly exasperated and a little pink in the ears.

“…Did you just bite him again?”

“Maybe.”

“Again?!” Penguin yells from the hallway.

“I’m closing the door now.” Law mutters.

“Marking her territory again—” before they can finish the door shuts with a loud thunk.

You hum, pleased, and lean back against the couch like you’ve done nothing wrong.

Law sighs “You’re gonna drive me insane.”

“You love it.”

He glances at you, expression unreadable “Unfortunately.”

“They’re doing it again” Shachi stage-whispers, crouched behind a crate with Penguin like they’re on a stakeout.

Bepo, sitting calmly with a cup of tea, sighs “They’re not doing anything bad.”

Penguin peeks over the crate “That’s your opinion.”

From their vantage point on the deck, they have a perfect view of you casually sitting next to Law, who’s trying to read. Trying being the key word.

You scoot a little closer.

Law glances at you “Don’t.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re thinking about it.”

“Maybe.”

Law exhales slowly, eyes flicking back to his book “This is harassment.”

“This is love.”

“Your love is invasive.”

You grin “It’s customized.”

And then you lean in and bite his ear again.

It’s soft, playful. Familiar. Like a ritual at this point. Your teeth graze gently against the top curve before you pull back, satisfied.

Law doesn’t even flinch this time, just closes his eyes and mutters “You’re gonna start a rumor.”

From behind the crate “TOO LATE!”

You both look up.

Shachi waves “Hey Captain, if you wanted us to stop walking in on this, maybe lock the door!”

“This is the deck” Law says, tone flat.

“You knew the risks!” Penguin yells.

Bepo takes another sip of tea “I warned them not to follow you around.”

You chuckle and lean into Law’s side “You didn’t stop me.”

“I’ve stopped trying” Law replies. But his voice is softer now. Quiet. You can feel the warmth radiating off him even though he pretends to be annoyed.

You rest your head on his shoulder “You love it.”

“Again, unfortunately.”

The crew watches in stunned silence as their stoic captain doesn’t push you away, doesn’t scold you, and instead just… lets you stay there.

“Holy crap,” Penguin whispers “Y/N has domesticated him.”

“He’s been bit into submission,” Shachi says, sounding half-impressed, half-disturbed.

“I think it’s cute” Bepo offers.

Law groans “I’m moving the ship without any of you on it.”

You smile “But then who’ll watch me bite you?”

His glare could kill a man. It never works on you.

You’re lying on the deck this time, sprawled across Law’s lap like you have zero sense of personal boundaries, which is fair, because you don’t.

He’s trying to act uninterested, one hand flipping through a medical journal, the other resting idly on your back like you’re a cat that wandered into his life and refused to leave. You’ve been there for twenty minutes now, quietly humming to yourself.

The sun’s warm. The waves are calm. The ship rocks gently beneath you.

You stretch like a satisfied houseplant “You know what I haven’t done today?”

Law doesn’t look up “Bitten me?”

You sit up, mock-gasping “How’d you know?”

“I live in fear.”

“You live in love” you correct.

He finally looks down at you, unamused but soft around the edges “You bite me again in front of the crew, and I’m gonna perform minor surgery in your sleep.”

You narrow your eyes playfully “You wouldn’t.”

He tilts his head “Try me.”

The tension doesn’t last. You grin, lean in and he braces for it but instead of biting, you just press a gentle kiss to his ear. No teeth. Just warm, solid affection.

Law blinks.

“…Huh.”

You pull back “What?”

“I was expecting fangs.”

“Trying something new,” you say innocently “Call it character growth.”

He stares at you, eyes narrowed. Then, finally, he chuckles under his breath. A real one, rare and genuine.

“Disappointing” he mutters.

You smirk “Yeah? So you liked being bitten…”

You lean in and give his ear one last bite.

Soft. Familiar. Yours.

Law groans “You’re impossible.”

“Yet deeply lovable.”

“Debatable.”

“Not to me” you say.

And he doesn’t say anything else, just threads his fingers through yours as the sun starts dipping low.

From somewhere behind the mast “They’re doing it again” Shachi whispers.

“I bet she’s biting him right now.”

“Bepo owes me five berries.”

Law raises his hand and flicks a middle finger toward the mast without looking.

You laugh.

And maybe that’s how it is with you and Law, chaotic, weird, full of strange little rituals and soft silences. But it works. In your own language of teeth and teasing and unspoken love, it works.

[chibinasuu]

Matched | Franky x Reader

Summary: Franky gave you a new arm after you lost yours in a battle Tags: hurt/comfort, depictions of canon-typical violence, limb-loss, GN but written with F!Reader in mind, no use of y/n

Steel clashed against steel as you desperately swung your sword, blocking the Marine Captain’s machete aiming for your neck.

You cursed loudly. You hated one-on-one combats. 

It had been quite some time since you joined the Straw Hats as a chronicler, tasked with recording all of your adventures in a logbook that you were sure would one day become an epic legend told for generations to come.

But despite all of the battles you’d gone through during your journey with the crew, you found that you never really got used to it. You weren’t a fighter to begin with and you tended to avoid violence as much as possible. 

You had gotten quite handy with a crossbow after extensive target practices with Usopp, but Zoro had insisted that you should learn short-range combat as well to defend yourself, just in case. 

Well, turned out he was right, because “just in case” was happening right now. 

Even after hours and hours of sparring with Zoro and Brook, the sword still felt awkward in your hands. You parried the Marine’s attacks, keeping your guards up. 

Defense, defense, and defense. That was all you had been doing. 

The Captain never let up his attacks, all of his moves going in for the kill. 

Your stamina was running out. Each swing of your sword got heavier and heavier. Your arms were just about to give up when… There. Finally an opening. 

You stepped your foot forward as you slashed your sword upward. The marine grunted as he stumbled backward, a deep gash now running from his abdomen to his left shoulder. 

Your triumph was short-lived as the Captain’s grimace turned vicious. He called you a foul name before surging toward you, swinging his blade in unbridled fury. 

His machete dug deep into the shoulder of your dominant arm, and you screamed in anguish as blinding pain overtook you. Your sword clattered to the ground. Blood gushed through the wound, but you refused to even look at it, knowing that you likely wouldn’t be able to stomach the gore. 

You could only lie on the ground in defeat, with no strength left in you.

This is it, you thought. All of your crewmates were busy with their own battles. No one was coming to save you.

The blood loss made your head spin, and you felt your consciousness fading fast. The last thing you saw was the Captain’s ferocious grin as he brought his blade down to finish you off. 

You were pretty sure you were hallucinating when you heard a distant shout of “Weapons Left!”

Right. It must’ve been just your wishful thinking that your knight in shining armor would come to your rescue. 

You felt your tether to life slowly draining away, then everything went dark.

Bits and pieces of conversation flowed through your ears as you slipped in and out of consciousness.

“Calm down, Franky… stable now… Chopper did everything he could.”

“…my fault. If only I had come earlier…“

You still felt disoriented when you finally regained your awareness for good. You tried to open your eyes, but immediately shut them again as the bright light of the infirmary invaded your vision. 

“You’re awake.” The familiar gravelly voice of your shipwright greeted you, accompanied by a long, shaky sigh of relief, “Let me grab Chopper.”

He was back in a flash with the ship’s doctor in tow. You were only half alert, lying still on the patient bed as Chopper listened to your heartbeat through his stethoscope, shone a light in each of your eyes, and did the rest of his mandatory checks.

When the doctor declared that everything seemed to be in good shape, Franky escorted the little reindeer out, muttering softly just out of your earshot, “You did well, bro. I’ll take it from here.”

Franky sat on a chair by your bedside, giving you a small smile, “Hey.”

“Hey,” You managed to croak out weakly, “What happened? How long was I out?”

“Well, we won the battle. You were heavily injured, but we managed to get you to Chopper in time.” He explained, “And you were out for three days—we’re well on our way to the next island now. The Marines’ backup gave up their pursuit yesterday after we used coup de burst to widen the distance.”

You took in his thorough explanation, but you couldn’t push away the nagging dread that he was still withholding some key details. 

Your instinct turned out to be right when he cautiously asked, “Are you feeling any pain in your shoulder?”

“No…” You said hesitantly. The last thing you remembered was an unbearable pain running down your shoulder through your arm, but now, you couldn't feel anything at all. Your heart sank as the worst thought crossed your mind. 

Your chest tightened as you quickly uncovered the blanket with your uninjured hand, and gasped in horror at the sight that greeted you.

Your breath came in quick and shallow as panic overtook you, hot tears welling up in your eyes. 

“Franky, my arm.” You wailed, “Where’s my arm?!”

Violent sobs racked you as you repeated the words over and over in shock and disbelief. Franky pulled you into a tight hug, gently stroking your hair as he shushed you, “I know, I’m sorry. Chopper did his best, but he had to make the hard decision. It was either your arm or your life.”

A million different emotions rushed through you—from fear to denial, to anguish and grief. Franky held you through it all. 

Your tears and snot were making a mess on his bare torso but neither of you cared. 

After what felt like hours, the steadiness of his strong hands around you slowly led you into a somber calmness. 

“Poor Chopper,” You mumbled into the cyborg’s chest, “He must’ve been a mess when he realized he needed to chop my arm off.”

Franky chuckled, “It’s so like you to think of others even in times like this.”

Amid the silence that followed, you couldn’t stop the creeping self-doubt that wormed into your head. 

You were the crew’s chronicler and now you had lost your ability to write. Even if you trained your non-dominant hand, it would be a good while until you would be able to write again. What use would you be to the crew if you couldn’t write? You’d just be deadweight to them. 

As if he could read your mind, Franky tipped your chin up with his fingers, “Hey, you know we wouldn’t love you less just because you had one less arm now, right?”

He held your face in between his large metal hands, forcing you to look at him as he firmly said, “This doesn’t make you less. You’re still our super chronicler no matter what.”

Your eyes flitted away from his intense gaze. You wanted to believe him. You knew his words rang true, but still, you found it difficult to accept. 

At your heavy silence, he added, “Maybe I can build you a voice-activated robot that could write for you. Or heck, you can dictate your words to me and I’ll write it for you.”

That actually managed to coax a small smile out of you, but it wasn’t long until your eyes were filled with fresh tears.

“I want to write again, Franky.” You said in a small voice as you buried your face in his chest once more, “With my own hand.”

He stroked your hair slowly, “Well, I can’t give you back your arm, you know that.” You felt a soft kiss on the top of your head before he continued, “But I can make you a new one, if that’s what you wish.”

You looked up at him, “You’d do that for me?”

“I’d do anything for you, sugar.” 

For the next few days, Franky locked himself up in his workshop, only coming out for meals and bathroom breaks. The guys noticed that he didn’t return to the boys’ quarters at nights, and they wondered if he was even sleeping at all. 

Meanwhile, you were steadily recovering under Chopper’s meticulous care. You could even bear the sight of your missing arm now without bursting into tears. 

The doctor helped you adapt to your non-dominant hand through small exercises like brushing your teeth, and feeding yourself the soup that Sanji made for you.

One night, you heard a knock on the infirmary’s door. 

“Come in!” 

Franky poked his head in and grinned, “How’s my favorite chronicler doing today?”

“Why, if it isn’t my favorite shipwright!” You chuckled, “I’m doing better, I guess.”

“I got a surprise for you,” He said as he entered the room. He was carrying a long item, wrapped in pristine sailcloth.

He sat by your bed and pulled the shroud away, unveiling what he had been tirelessly working on the past few days. 

The disembodied arm looked, for lack of better words, human. He got your skin tone exactly right, and when you ran your fingers over it, the surface felt eerily similar to human skin. The only part left bare was the shoulder joint.

Franky saw you eyeing all of the metal parts and wires sticking out of it.

“Ah, we can cover that up with the synthetic skin, once we attach it to you.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully, “Although I still need to figure out a way to make the covering easily removable, so we can do regular maintenance.”

He made a point by popping open the panel on his own red and bulbous shoulder. You stared in wonder at the complex wiring of the inside of his arm, marveling at the genius of this man in front of you.

You turned your sight toward the rest of him, for once taking in the various metal parts that made him, him. You never really bothered to scrutinize the details—it had never mattered much to you. For you, he had always just been… Franky. 

You traced your eyes over his mechanical arms and hands, the metallic parts that ran from the middle of his thighs down to his ankles, and of course, his cute metal nose that you just loved to press out of nowhere to mess with his hair.

You had never seen a more beautiful and magnificent man. 

Shame suddenly rushed through you for ever doubting yourself and thinking of yourself as less just because you lost an arm. Here was a cyborg standing before you, and yet you had never known someone more human than him.

You looked again at the prosthetic arm Franky made you, touched that he was doing all this for you.

“It looks amazing, Franky.” You told him as the tears you were trying to hold back finally spilled over and slid down your cheeks, “Thank you.”

“I’m super glad to hear that.” He grinned, "And don't worry, I'll figure something out for the shoulder. I promise, once it's attached, you won't even notice it's made out of metal."

You smiled softly at him, "Actually…”

Franky’s grin widened as he listened to your request, “Sure, doll. If that’s really what you want.”

Franky stood behind you as you stared at your reflection, admiring your new limb.

Your shoulder was now capped with a red, metal guard—easily removable for maintenance access, of course. A yellow stripe wrapped around the middle, with a star and “BF-14106” written on it in bold lettering. Franky had modeled it to fit the rest of the arm perfectly, tastefully compact and not bulky at all. 

You grinned and gazed into Franky's eyes through the mirror, “Look, we match.”

“Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

You admired the arm some more, before Franky turned you to face him, asking you to test out the motoric movements under his guidance.

He asked you to make a fist, then to open it, then to wiggle your fingers. He asked you to bend your elbow, to raise your arm, and then put it back down. A series of other movements followed until lastly, he offered you a quill and a parchment. You hesitated for a second, but took the quill at his nod of encouragement. 

Your whole body trembled—with nerves, yes, but mostly in excitement. 

You dipped the quill into the ink, then carefully guided it across the parchment to write your name. Your movement was slow and awkward, and your script was far from neat, but you couldn’t stop the tears of joy from flowing. With a bit of practice, you'd be ready to fill up your notebooks again with thrilling tales of the Straw Hats' adventures.

“Oh, Franky! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You leaped at him and he readily caught you. His laughter echoed alongside yours as he spun you around despite the tight space of the infirmary, only putting you down after nearly toppling Chopper’s chair over.

You grabbed his face in between your hands and peppered his cheeks with loud kisses.

At times like this, Franky wished he could switch off his receptors at will, because try as he might, he couldn’t prevent his whole face from going bright red at your affection. 

A few days later, Franky checked up on you in the library as you practiced your handwriting over and over again on a piece of parchment.

Your script had gotten much better, and gone was the awkwardness of using your new cyborg arm. As expected of Franky's handicraft, it truly felt as if it was your own.

"Hey," Franky called out, "Arm's okay?"

"It's perfect!" You beamed, "Thanks again, Franky. I owe you tons."

Franky shook his head and smiled softly, letting you know for the thousandth time that you didn't owe him anything.

Your eyes went to your shoulder, once again studying the "BF-14106" painted there. You had told Franky that you wanted the same markings as his, but he had chosen those numbers himself.

Your curiosity finally won out this time as you asked the cyborg, "Hey, Franky, if you’re BF-37, and General Franky’s 38, shouldn’t I be… BF-39? Why this long string of numbers? Do they mean anything?”

Franky looked away from you and rubbed the back of his neck bashfully, his face tinted with a pink hue, “Ah… it's a secret. I’ll tell you someday.”

Looking at his reaction, an inkling of what it might mean suddenly popped into your head. You felt your cheeks heat up as your mind connected the dots, but you stayed silent.

You’d wait until he was ready.

And when he was, and if it was indeed what you suspected, you’d readily say it back. 

a/n: this fic had been sitting in my drafts for months, but i finally decided to finish it in time for franky's birthday! i've been hesitant to share this fic since it's quite outside my comfort zone, and i'm still not confident that i was able to convey all the feelings properly, but i hope you enjoyed reading this anyway <3

╰┈➤ masterlist

[inspired-lesson-plans]

This is a very long post. If you do not have the time, then please at least do the quick activity up top. The lesson plan that took me 4 days to write will follow the ⁜ symbol.

HW Due Mon:

Open https://mysolartime.com/ in a new tab and allow the website to track your location.

Open https://www.utctime.net/ in a new tab.

Reblog this post the current UTC time and your local time, using the following format:

21:00 UTC, 4:00 local

4. Vote in the following poll.

⁜

Social Studies, Grade 5, Geography 6.1.5.GeoSV.3: Demonstrate how to use digital geographic tools, maps and globes to measure distances and determine time zones, and locations using latitude and longitude.

Do Now:

Provide students with a paper copy of a population density world map and 2 minutes to fulfill the following instruction:

Draw lines on the map in order to separate the world into 24 time zones. Try not to separate dense population centers into different time zones.

⁎

Class Discussion:

Use the projector to share and discuss the maps of any students who are willing to share. Have fun with this, there are bound to be some good ideas and bad ideas because 5th grade is like that.

Then, project the official world time zone map, and discuss the good ideas and bad ideas present here.

Exemplary discussion points:

The 0-point of the timezone map is the Prime Meridian, which cuts right through England. Why do you think it's in England?

How come some countries like the US and Brazil are cut into multiple time zones, but China isn't?

Why do you think the lines are pretty straight in Europe, Africa, and North and South America, but so confused in Asia and the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans?

⁑

Direct Instruction:

Long ago, nobody really cared about the exact time. All you really needed was sunrise, sunset, and noon, and you could figure those out with your eyes. If you wanted to be fancy, you could put a stick in the ground and trace its shadow over the course of the day to measure out hours.

Perhaps the first recorded complaint of time-keeping technology comes from Rome in 250BCE.

The gods confound the man who first found out how to distinguish hours! Confound him too Who in this place set up a sundial To cut and hack my days so wretchedly Into small portions! When I was a boy, My belly was my sundial: one more sure, Truer, and more exact than any of them. This dial told me when it was time To go to dinner, when I had anything to eat; But nowadays, why even when I have, I can't fall-to unless the sun gives leave. The town's so full of these confounded dials, The greatest part of its inhabitants, Shrunk up with hunger, creep along the streets. [x]

In other words, "Kids these days are always looking at their sundials. Back in my day, there were only three times, Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner. All we needed to tell the time was our stomach!"

Please note this was a satire, so if it sounds funny, you are correct.

But for 18th century British sailors, accurate timekeeping was no laughing matter. These sailors used fancy math (called trigonometry) to calculate their latitude. So long as they knew the angle between the sun and the horizon, and the time when that angle was measured.

Ship's captains would keep logbooks of these measurements. That way, another ship's captain would be able to reference the logbook in order to replicate the journey, much like replicating a science experiment.

Now... think about this... how can you do that unless the next captain is using the same time as you. We take this for granted today, but how can you be sure that two clocks are synchronized?

Scientists in the town of Greenwich, England (pronounced gren`-ich) recorded the solar noon every day of the year and calculated the Greenwich Mean Time. By keeping an accurate and exact time in one exact place, GMT eventually the Coordinated Universal Time (UTC) for everyone in the world. That's why in the time zone map, the 0 runs through one specific part of England.

This is important. For the first time in human history, the clocks in different places were synchronized. Solar noon happens at a different time in London than it does in Greenwich, but if they both use GMT (otherwise known as UTC), then they can coordinate their schedules. This was very important for railroads, where exact, coordinated schedules are very important.

Soon, the entire country of England existed within a single time zone.

When the United States built railroads that spanned vast lateral (East-West) distances, they needed to create different time zones for cities that were far apart from each other, such as New York and Chicago. Thus, the US became the first country with multiple time zones.

As the rest of the world industrialized, they needed to pick their time zones. You can see this on the map. Each time zone is, at least in theory, as wide as 1/24 the circumference of the Earth. It's like the space between the numbers on a clock! Most countries are smaller than this, so they can comfortably fit within a single timezone. Others, like Brazil and Australia, divided their landmasses into two or three time zones.

China did not have widespread industrialization until post-WWII dictatorial communist rule. This was a very uncaring and inconsiderate government, to put it mildly. Suffice it to say that for Chinese farmers in the far west, having to get up 2-3 hours earlier every day would have been the least of their worries.

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Modeled Activity:

Show students how to use this Day and Night world map as a way to visualize the day and night cycle across the world.

Additionally, show them how to use https://mysolartime.com/ to find their current time where they live.

Give students a moment to calculate the difference between their Local Time and the official time in their time zone, and what that means.

(I am currently in Philadelphia, which is 11 minutes East of New York City)

Finally, show students how to use https://www.utctime.net/ to find their exact, current UTC.

Have students calculate the difference in minutes and hours between Local Time and Official Time.

00:41 - 19:30 = -5:11 (Philadelphia is 5 hours and 11 minutes East of Greenwich, England)

Explain that every internet connected device in the world uses a service like this one, then adds or subtracts hours to fit the time zone of your current location.

Higher Order Learning:

Students work in small groups to look up the local time in different major cities around the world, recording their data on a worksheet. As they do, they should discuss the following questions:

Are time zones still relevant in our always-online society?

If you can know your Local Time and the UTC any time you look at your phone, then what purpose do time zones still serve?

How would it feel for schools and businesses to use UTC instead?

How would you feel if your school day went from 4:20-10:50 UTC?

Finally, each student must individually write at least 3 sentences responding to the following question:

Would you advocate for or against your school district dropping references to the time in your time zone and instead referring to UTC and Local Time? Why or why not?

[dxppercxdxver]

*tomska voice* FLINTLOCK FORTRESS IS BACK BABEYYYYYYY. anyway uh. clapping pots and pans together You People Like Sniper/Spy? Come Get Your Sniper/Spy

[ltwilliammowett]

Logbook of HMS Achilles Commanded by Captain E. Kelly, kep by E[dmund] P[ercy] F[enwick] G[eorge] Grant, 1882-4

[ateez-himari]

250323; YUNHO'S BIRTHDAY

[NEW UPLOAD FROM HIMARI]

ATEEZ(에이티즈) @/ATEEZofficial

[#히마리] YuYu oppa you're getting older, I almost can't believe it, you still have the energy of a giant puppy at your big age ㅎㅎ Rooming together has brought us closer and I've learned a lot from you, from your kindness, your joy, your determination, your overwhelming positivity...and your Valorant skills 🤭 You always try your best to cook nutritious meals when my schedules keep me outside late, you go out of your way to pick up my medicine when I forget, and I've heard you speak to me when you carry me to bed, always praising me for the most mundane things. Did you know you were the first to lean the phrase 'I'm proud of you' in sign language ? You always stood quietly by my side, there aren't enough words to say how much this act you find so natural has helped me ❤️ Happy Birthday Yunnie Oppa!

#ATEEZ #애이티즈

Translated from Korean by Google

11:29pm · 23 Mar 25 · 84K Views 29K Reposts 796 Quotes 51K Likes

mikah @/himaswife Replying to @/ATEEZofficial No wonder Mingi said that despite having lots of anxiety towards his girlfriend's health, the fact that she lives with Yunho makes him feel at ease 🥹 In the newest logbook you can see him helping Hima down some pills that she forgot to take

왔다 갔다 @/yeosangiecookie Replying to @/ATEEZofficial I never truly noticed until rewatching wanteez but since he was the first person aside from our captain to join our maknae, they have such a warm relationship. Hima was sick before one of the episodes so he carried her on his back the entire time, he walked uphill all the way to their residence for the night like this and she was making sure he was eating properly when he was feeding Jongho 🥺

Eri @/ateenypresent Replying to @/ATEEZofficial anyone remember that one salary lupin episode where he suggested 'seraphina' for her english name and explained that they love unconditionally with the purest of affections just as she does...no, just me ?

Minnie Moe @/bestspotifyplaylistrex Replying to @/ATEEZofficial the way she anchors herself onto him in that photo 😭 we don't see much of their relationship but it's so unique. it almost feels as though they're the reason that the other can stay so bright all the time (also the intricacy in the cake she made for him, our tiger cub gave so much for our puppy's birthday-)

[mindless-sailor]

FUCHSIA: I wish I could become your best friend through the internet.

TEAL: We have quite a lot in common.

GREEN: I find you cute.

HIIIIIIIII MWAH

NYMMMMM OH MY GOD HIIIIII LOVE

We do in fact need to talk more you’re so sweet and awesome. I also find you cute MWAH

[nightmare-foundation]

Honestly it lowkey annoys me whenever people say that Michael has 'very little personality' outside of hunting down his father.

N like- on the surface, that seems true, but like. If you look deeper, that's... not really true?? Because there's a LOT that actually speaks to his character, but you have to be willing to catch onto the connections his character has

Like, for example, Michael has a very straightforward way of speaking. He's dry and sarcastic ("They thought I was you... [laugh]"), has a foreshortened sense of the future (the drawing of a gravestone in the security logbook), not to mention the dialogue of foxybro in fnaf 4. He doesn't beat around the bush, but he's bitter and dry and sarcastic. Even as an old man, his anger and cynicism towards Freddy's shows in his drawings, but he has a sense of humor (the exotic butters and casual bongos referenced in the logbook, not to mention the silly drawings), plus he's sentimental (as said before, exotic butters and casual bongos). Not to mention he's stubborn as shit, given he keeps coming back to Freddy's, even after 30 whole years.

A lot of people also really like to write Michael off as being stupid, for... some reason. The games really say otherwise; the fact that he tampers with the animatronics regularly, figured out what his father did and what happened to Elizabeth in less than a week, freed the dead kids, helped make FFPS and ran a business, likely Also made the fnaf 3 location too, knew what was gonna happen to him in SL (pretty clear given the fact you can ignore Baby's directions on the last night), can manage several animatronics at once throughout an entire night...

Michael is very clearly Really Fucking Smart. Smart enough that I'm willing to bet that was one of the reasons why William sent him to the SL bunker. Michael is FAR from an idiot, and the FNAF movie even proves this further! He's SCARILY smart!

There's a lot more too; him using a red foxy mask speaks a lot to his character too. Red is often used to denote everything from passion to anger (yknow, 'seeing red' being a term for when you're blind with rage), and he wears it the entire time he bullies CC. It's not just a literal mask, it's figurative too; Michael puts up a mask of anger, he pretends to be this scary bully. The cruelty isn't real, Michael is just the scapegoat and he's acting out (very very common).

Also, Michael is 100% who you play as in fnaf 4 based on the movement, and who rubs away in Midnight Motorist. CC is the type of kid to freeze up, curl up into a ball and cry when he's scared, as seen several times in fnaf 4. It wouldn't make sense for him to suddenly turn around and start running around, or fighting back. It's very Michael to run around, constantly looking around, or to break out and run away.

Another note on Michael's character is that he's associated with Foxy. The Funtimes are clearly modeled after the Aftons (Ballora and Baby are, why wouldn't the rest match CC (Freddy) and Michael (Foxy)?), and using that we can gleam some parts of Michael from FT Foxy (since William clearly was trying to mock and make fun of him with the angsty teen voice). FT Foxy is a performer; he's dramatic, he's vicious, attacking even when he 'shouldn't', and wants his stage solely to himself.

This fits Michael; Michael put on an act of viciousness and cruelty, always attacking when you least expected it. So it makes sense that Michael, too, is a performer, and FFPS hammers this in using the business bear. Again, the mask represents Michael acting, pretending, and it wouldn't be the first time an Afton would pretend (William, Elizabeth, and to an extent, CC). The rest of the Aftons are also theatrical and dramatic, so again, this tracks. He's also represented as one of those hand puppets in the ffps alleyway poster, something used to ACT.

And again, with Foxy, we can gleam that Michael likely is also a sort of 'leader' figure, since Foxy has been depicted as not just a pirate captain, but also as a Ringleader. This also tracks, not just bc the Aftons have a circus theme, but Michael is the eldest of his siblings, and thus the de facto 'leader'. He's the first to act, to put things into motion when everything 'ends'. Foxy is also, well, a fox, which are depicted as cunning and intelligent, which only lends credence to Michael being intelligent.

It's also implied that Michael... doesn't really care about people who Aren't his family?? Whether that's by blood or not, he doesn't care abt others who isn't his family. This is implied by the fact that he only cared about freeing Elizabeth, showing absolutely No care about the Funtimes despite them clearly being sentient. Not to mention the lawsuits he regularly gets in FFPS, or the state Fazbears Frights is in in fnaf 3. And, judging by Henry's final speech, he and Michael just. Don't seem to talk At All. At the very least they definitely don't communicate since Henry assumed Michael wanted to die (which is left Very Ambiguous).

Honestly this doesn't even BEGIN to get into everything that the Glitchtrap Michael theory says about his character that also hammer in all of these traits Even Further.

And like. Michael is SOOO much like William when you put all of this into perspective. Like, they are SIMILAR similar, but differ in ways that are important. Michael is a performer, an actor, he doesn't care about anyone outside of his family, he's stubborn as fuck, he's smart as hell, he's sarcastic and dry, etc.

He has SO. MUCH. CHARACTER. You just have to dig a little- this is ALL gleamed from the games and Security Logbook. There's more if you believe he's Glitchtrap- which he very likely is.

Just... it's nuts. He's such an intriguing character, he's not perfect and he's morally gray, yet people love to dumb him down to "hehe sad uwu arsonist zombie boy who's also Stupid"

Please just let Michael be a problematic old man (he was born in the 60s ffs, he's almost in his 60s by the time ffps rolls around).