#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]

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𓆉𓆝𓇼𓆟 𖦹°‧𓆝𓆡𓆜

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☆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.”

[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.

⁂

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?

[ltwilliammowett]

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

[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

[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-)

[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).

[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

[laughtalelogs]

❄snow angel - sanji x reader❄

❄ day 1 - first snow, getting soaked, “your hands are so cold”  ❄ fandom/character(s) - one piece - sanji x reader ❄ warnings - fluff, no beta reader, use of terms like “princess” otherwise mostly gender neutral, no ending ❄ word count: 2.4k

this is the first day of the @12daysofchristmas challenge. this rushed asf and not edited. sorry no ending lmao, i had an ending in mind but If i stared at this any longer i was gonna bang my head against my keyboard :) tomorrow's zoro, so stay tuned! check out here to read more

The Sunny rocked in the gentle evening breeze, the sun retreated behind the horizon. Purple and orange hues stretched across the galley. A book laid heavy in your lap as you relaxed with the remnants of the crew after dinner. You had means to finish a chapter before you wound down. But, the rare, sweet peace made your body feel like lead. The soothing song of clinking dishes, muffled snoring, and soft scribbling filled the space with a cozy air. Since you joined the merry-band of pirates, you quickly learned that times of silence were few and far between. You wouldn’t dare disturb it. 

Nami hunched over her logbook next to you, charting a map with fervor. On the other side, Luffy rested on your shoulder. Food crumbs were scattered across his drooling mouth as he slept. Across the way, Sanji hummed a soft tune as he flitted around the room. The song pulled you in and with each note, you found yourself lost in thought, rereading the same words over again. 

From the corner of your eye, you felt the cook’s lingering gaze on you. Not that it bothered you; it gave you another reason to abandon your book. You both were playing a silent game 一 a game you had been playing for weeks. A game he was failing miserably at. 

Your eyes lock again for a moment, the darkened cerulean meeting yours with uncertain curiosity. 

You raised a playful brow, letting your eyes wander. His neck and jaw tightened, a splatter of red rising to his ears as his adam’s apple wavered in his throat. His tune faltered, and he quickly glanced away, fumbling with the cutlery he had in hand. You feel a chill run down your spine, trying to quell the trail of goosebumps on your arm. 

Nami let out a groan, looking at the porthole behind you. The wind rattled against the glass, and Luffy stirred, pressing closer to you for warmth.

"We're getting close to a winter island,” she announced, tapping her pen to the journal. "Expect snow in the morning."

 “Snow?” you felt your heart flip in your chest, excitement rising in your voice. “Like a lot of it?”

“...That’s right,” Nami smiled, pushing her glasses up the brim of her nose. “Should’ve remembered snow isn’t common for you.”

“Does frosted grass count?” you offer sheepishly.

Sanji chuckle grabbed your attention as he approached with a folded blanket tucked beneath his arm.

 “Here, you’ll be needing this, then,” He hands the soft fleece to you and you reach out, gentle fingers brushing yours. It was a quick, unassuming exchange. You stare at the crisp white linen of his shirt ruffled at the cuff, straining under his toned arm. 

 “I would hate to see you catch a chill,” He looks up at the ceiling, avoiding your eyes. He cleared his throat and whipped around, busying himself again. You mumble a weak ‘thank you’, ignoring how your fingers still burn from the feathered touch. You shimmy the warm fleece over you and Luffy’s shoulder. It smelled like smoked tobacco and vanilla extract, and you pushed the urge down to bury your nose in the fabric.

He turned to an unimpressed Nami. “Guessing soup or stew for tomorrow?” 

“Soup?” Your insatiable Captain groans in his sleep, a dazed smile playing on his drooling lips. 

Nami scoffed, rolling her eyes. A pen flies through the air and hits Luffy square between the eyes.

“Ow..! What was that for?” He croaked blearily,  rubbing his head.

“All you ever think about is food, I bet you were dreaming about it too.” She chides, closing her journal with a soft thud, collecting her things. “Come on, time for bed. Tell the others about the snow.”

“It’s snowing?!” Luffy boomed, soaring up, wide-eyed with joy. The blanket fell off your once-taken shoulder.

“Not now, later.” Nami re-iterated with annoyance. “Come on,”

“Night, you two,” “G’Night guys!”

And with that, the galleyway soon was draped in another tranquil silence. With how cold the temperature was dropping, you wouldn’t have been surprised if it was snowing right now. You pull the blanket towards you closer, brain racing with the promises of a new experience tomorrow. You had joined the straw hats out of desperation for adventure, to see the world for more than what your tropical island could offer. Now, it felt like it was finally paying off.

“Excited?” Sanji’s voice jerked you out of your thoughts. You look up, watching him polish spoons like second nature, blonde hair falling like golden silk in front of his eyes. 

“Uh- yeah, ” You mumbled into the fleece, burying yourself further. “I guess you say that,”

“Come on,” He throws the towel over his shoulder, voice low and teasing, “ indulge me, sweetheart.” 

Ignoring the way your stomach flips at the deep rumble of his voice, you give in. 

“I dunno, it’s just,” You admit, shifting in your seat, “There’s only so much reading you can do before you wonder what it would be, ya’know?” You stare down at the forgotten book, closing it and placing it on the table.

“I think I get what you mean,” The tenderness in his voice caught you off guard as he continued. “-beauty like that you can only witness in person, no words would do it justice,” When you meet his kind gaze again, your mind goes blank, and you have to remember how to breathe.

“S-so true,” You cleared your throat, mouth impossibly dry. “Well, u-uh, let me get ready for bed, I want to be the first one up!” You jumped up, the blanket forgotten on the bench as the pen in your lap clattered to the ground. You scuttled quickly out the galley way with a rushed ‘good night!’, leaving Sanji as the last one standing. 

Sanji blinked, and sighed, staring at the door where you had left. His shoulders drooped low at the brief, sweet moment. He fished in his pocket for a cigarette, shaking his head.  He lit the cigarette and watched hot smoke curl in the cool air. He lets his mind wander to the promise of tomorrow, the promise of seeing you again. 

“Goodnight, Princess.” He murmured out to the empty room. 

-

That chilly night you tossed and turned. Even as your body thrummed with hot adrenaline, you shivered. As much as you tried to bundle yourself deeper into your blankets, the cold seeped into your bones. Your nose and cheeks burned from the chill. You stared out the porthole, watching the clear black of night until you drifted off to sleep.

-

You wake up with a start. Bright white light shines in, and you look over at the others, who are still fast asleep. Nami’s soft snores and Robin’s even breathing are muffled by their blankets. You slowly peel the covers away, hissing at the cold that bites your skin. Excited breaths plume in the air like smoke, as you tip-toe slowly out the room. Opening the door, the sight blows you away, air escaping your lungs. You didn’t think it would be this magnificent. Soft snow covered the tops of everything in a thick layer of bright white made you squint. The rising sun shot gorgeous rays of yellow across the falling snow, sparkling in the morning light. 

An icy blast of cool wet air brushes past your legs and feet, and you quickly shut the door to not disturb the women sleeping. Your barren feet take their first steps onto the deck, and you barely can contain your excitement with each skip you take down towards mens quarters, you couldn’t be the only person to witness this. Thinking back to your conversation with Sanji last night, heat fills your body even as your toes begin to turn numb.

 Fresh footprints lead you to the door, and you quickly slip inside. enveloped in a loud chorus of groans and snores. You scan the room as your feet heat up on the solid wood. You tiptoed over Zoro and Chopper who huddled for warmth. Past Usopp and Luffy’s hammock, you looked for a tuft of blonde hair with no luck. You cursed under your breath. He must be up already, you thought. You turn behind, looking at your sleeping Captain. 

Guess he would do. You poke at his cheek softly.

“Pstt.. Luffy..” He groaned, swatting your finger away and turned over. You shake him this time, watching his head jostle around. “wake up, it's snowing, come o-” 

“SNOW?!” His eyes shoot open, screaming at the top of his lungs. The rest of the cabin jumped up with a bewildered confusion. Before you could apologize, Luffy was grabbing Usopp by the nose and you by the wrist, pulling you out onto the deck.

-

You screamed as you skipped around the deck. The snow crunched under your feet, the frigid air biting your exposed skin as soaked in the new sensation. You squeal as you flounce around,the fresh snow upturned by each step.  

-

Sanji watched from the doorway curiously, and he couldn’t help the cheesy smile stretching his face. God, you were gorgeous like this, He thought. He watched you play in the snow with wonderment, Luffy and Usopp’s cheers muffled in the background. How could he deny himself with the pleasure of watching you? You were like a dream, something he was convinced he conjured in his brain to torture himself with. 

All night, he was awake, picturing your first moments in the winter, how you would glow against the snow. How the snowflakes would fall on your eyelashes, begging him to swipe them away.  He imagined would be able to provide you with warmth after a day of reliving your childhood anyway you needed him to, if you willed it. These thoughts plagued him well into the night, till the sun threatened to peek over the horizon as he watched out the port hole as it began to fog over with frost, too late into the morning to fall asleep. He rubbed his tired eyes, the sight of you absolutely vibrant with joy fueling his exhausted and needy heart. 

Even with his answered prayers, he couldn’t help but worry about your lack of clothes. Where the hell were your coat and shoes? He worried on his bottom lip, glancing at the ice bitten soles of your feet, trying to keep his eyes away from the way your shirt rode up with every leap forward.

 Had he been careless? He felt responsible for your lack of winter preparedness. His brows furled in worry as he watched you slip onto your back. 

His stomach dropped. He vaulted over the railing, dress shoes sinking into the frigid snow. With each determined flounce towards you, his socks became sodden with cold water.

 “You alright, gorgeous? Where’s your coat and shoes?” He flits above you nervously, his shallow breaths fogging in the crisp winter air. 

“You’ll freeze solid in this weathe-” He was cut off by your floaty laughter, his heart seized and banged rapidly against his ribs. 

“This is so much fun,” You laughed, arms outstretched as you made snow angels below him, beaming with happiness. “Join me Sanji!”

His brain was short-circuiting as he stood there with his mouth agape. Everything in his body wanted to get him into the snow next to you, to bury his hands into your side and roll around in the fluff, but looking at your bright red palms made him stop.

 “No, We need to get ready first, up you go,” He holds out a hand, and you whine in protest, but begrudgingly take his hand. He hisses at the soft cold hand, clasping it gently as he pulls you up. 

“Your hands are so cold...” He murmured. Without thought, he rubs your fingers softly in his hand, his curly eyebrows furrowing. A chill runs through your spine, but you feel like you're sweating at the soft touch. 

He slowly brings life back into your fingers as you stare in silence.His other hand catches yours and he cupped them gently, bringing them to his chapped, pink lips. They form into a soft ‘o’ as he exhales balmy, heavy breaths into your trembling fingers. Even with the winter that surrounded you, you were going to melt into the deck of the Sunny if he continued. You squeeze your eyes shut and look away. It was all too much. 

You squirm under the touch, but don’t pull away. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes I do,” He shakes his head, cheeks dusting pink, “Wouldn’t want any of these pretty fingers to freeze and fall off, right?” You don’t respond, staring at your feet. He always had a way with words that left you speechless. His gaze follows your, smacking his teeth. 

“You’re killing me,” He sighed, before dropping your hands, “Up you go,” With a swift movement, your frozen feet are swept off the ground. You let out a small noise of protest, but quickly wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“But the others-” 

“-Are complete idiots. You can come back out here later when you have appropriate winter clothes.” He made quick, determined strides towards the galley door swinging it open. Sweltering heat embraced you as he placed you on the bench, the smell of tomato and garlic wafting in the air. 

“Let's warm up and dry off first. I’ll make you hot chocolate, too.” He rambled, clasping his hands together as he scanned the room, “Or would you rather have cider? You think on that,  I’ll be back in one minute, my little snow angel.”

As quick as he leaves, he’s back again, shutting the frigid air out. “I brought a towel, a change of clothes, and a spare coat. Nami picked them out, don’t worry, I didn’t want-” 

“Someone’s mothering me right now,” You finally cut him off.

You watch his windburned face twist in embarrassment. “Someone has to, don't they?”

“And that someone should be you?” You tease with no bite in your words, but shift uncomfortably in your seat. The more you warmed up, the more you were hyperaware how your soaked t-shirt clung to your back, dripping onto your legs. 

You weren’t the only one who had notice, when a towel was shoved quickly in front of your face. Sanji’s eyes glued to the ceiling. You take it, wiping and patting yourself dry from the melted snow. 

what a weird way to end a fic ik i suck for it, but I got pretty uninspired there at the end. I have so many ideas but I suck at the romance sometimes. I used to rp a lot eons ago when I was a teenager and am just really trying to gain confidence in my writing again after that trauma, iykyk LMAO

I dunno if i’ll come back to edit this or finish my idea. Let me know if you liked it though!

wanna read more? check out my other fics (x)