#not that big but it was big for someone with her economy condition

[diandrarumi]

another headcanon, so i read that fic about harry giving ginny his mother's necklace and it was just so sweet....

so in my head ginny is not that big for jewels and accessories, like she obviously loves girly things but she also grew up poor so she probably knew that jewellry is a luxury indulgence that is not something she'd have the luck to have. So she never really bothered with any of them

but then she saw how harry cried when he went through his family's vault and saw lily and euphemia's jewelry box and how harry was so touched knowing that he had family heirlooms passed down from the women in his family

and like he shyly gave ginny his mother's necklace and proposed to her with his grandmother's ring and when they got married harry gave her the jewelry box and told her that he hoped they would grow old together and that he could watch her pass down these heirlooms to their daughter and daughter in laws if they have any

and since then you'd never see ginny potter out and about without bracelets, earrings and necklaces.

ginny even lent victoire the potter tiara when she married teddy

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Full headcanons for when MC regains all of their missing memories please 🙏🏽🙏🏽

The Arcana HCs: When MC regains their memories

Julian

It's one thing to discover, with someone who also didn't remember at the time, that he had essentially forgotten about you when you needed his help most. It's another to remember it

The early stages you spent still working with him, still sending him communications, still hoping he'd stop to connect long enough to notice your condition and do his job as a doctor and your friend

You don't know which hurts worse, that, or the later stages you spent weak and dying and alone, hoping against hope that he'd notice you were gone and come to help you through the last of it

The way his face falls in regret and pain when you finally tell him what those days were like is a closure you didn't know you needed

As much as it hurts both of you to address, the fact that Julian feels like you can forgive him while knowing the full extent of what he's done gives him an even stronger faith in your relationship

He's also excellently suited to helping you unpack it all - he's been through the same thing himself, having missing memories change how he lives, and then getting them all back at once. He gets it

So excited to learn all about your past self from you

Asra

If this ultimately makes you a happier, healthier person, they are both delighted for you and hugely relieved that it happened

One of his many fears after bringing you back was that he wouldn't be able to give you a life worth having. Your lack of memories definitely contributed to that, and seeing you recover is wonderful

Of course it's not all sunshine and rainbows. As soon as you've reached a point where you can talk about it, they're asking you for your forgiveness all over again and for your side of the story

He left you where he knew it was dangerous, and he failed to stay with you because he chose his fear over his love. He didn't even leave you a way to call for him when you needed him

At the same time, it's their unfailing presence with you now that helps you overcome the disjointedness of it all. They've grown and matured, but your current and old memories alike feature them

So when you're ready to reminisce, to start talking about your old antics and embarrassing mistakes and weird habits, the same best friend who saw it all then will remember it with you now

Only now, there's no walls, fears, or secrets left between you

Nadia

Your memories are back? Tell her everything

Seriously, everything. It's been so fulfilling for her to have someone to trust and allow into her heart and mind and space, and she's often regretted that you can't do the same to that capacity

She does struggle early on not to feel guilty when you mention things like Vesuvia's failing economy or the ravages of the Red Plague, but she's quick to keep the focus on you

Soaks up all the little details and anecdotes you share with her

You remember your childhood favorite food? She's having it served at tea, to see if it tastes the way you remember it

You mentioned a song you remember a parent or family member singing? She's boosting the local music scene with a big prize for whoever can find and learn to play/sing it to you

Really, really wants to visit all the places you have your core memories in. Taking you to Prakra gave her a closure and bond with you that she really wants you to enjoy as well

It goes without saying, but she has an open invitation to anyone you want to reconnect with to visit or stay at the Palace

Muriel

He's happy ... for you. He knows how deeply formative memories and history are, and it's only right for you to have your roots back

He's also the closest to terrified and insecure he's been in a long time, and that's because if you remember a time before the end of the Plague, you remember the time when he was the Scourge

He doesn't care for secrets. He's never hidden who he was from you. He knows you saw his old self and that it hasn't changed how you love him. But it's different when it's your memories, not his

What if you visited the Coliseum without him knowing?

What if you took a seat and experienced the disappointment and revulsion of seeing your best friend's oldest friend, maybe even someone you were fairly close with as well, turn into a killer?

But if you could look at his memories and still commit to loving him, he can and will do the exact same for you

Gives you space when you need it and sticks by your side when you need it, always ready to lend an ear when you want to share

Happy to go on a trip with you if it'll let you reconnect with lost family and roots. You did the same for him, after all!

Portia

Oh she's not worried at all. She knows you two have got this

Whatever there is in your history that she may have an issue with, she knows you two can talk about it and she knows who you are now is not who you used to be. No serious concerns there

That aside, you can finally live with (roughly) the same amounts of memories she has! This is great! You should write them down!

Not the best at giving you space if you want to process alone, but so empathetic with the whole adjustment that it's almost impossible to feel misunderstood. She's got your back

Even with the tricky relational stuff. Her older brother and Asra, especially. She knows you knew them when things were bad, and she's ready to mediate any hard conversations you need to have

And she'll give you all the emotional support you need after

Almost scarily dedicated to helping you track down and reconnect with people from your past. (Given how she spent three years hunting down her brother, it's not hugely surprising ...)

So confident and settled in your relationship that it makes sorting through the memories easier. You're still each other's fresh start

Lucio

He's happy for you! He really is! He promises! (all said with both hands in the air, a strained smile, and a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face while the dogs look unimpressed)

Okay so maybe he's a little scared

He knows you've talked about it. Hell, you walked with him through the landscape of his memories and failings and somehow managed to hold love for him as he went

But if you can actually remember, now, what he did ... who he used to be ... what you suffered because of him both directly and indirectly, and yes, the horrific death you can remember now too

He knows he's changed and his faith in you is boundless but his faith in who he used to be is nonexistent, for good reason

Almost makes you lose your temper pestering you for how you really feel and tripping over his feet to prove himself after

Once you've told him that nothing about your relationship is under threat, he becomes an amazing partner to help you unpack

He gets it. What it's like to relive visceral memories, for the past to feel so disjointed. He gets it, and he's got you

[boyslit]

actually did i ever ramble on here about my 'fake'/fan hsr region? aside from posting Maraschino's combat kit and lines because he's my special 4★ princess

it all kicked off bc of this picrew 👇 my friend found and i loved making little elves with pink hair and then they started putting a story together in my head without my say-so lol

The Stellaron affecting Celarys is actually a half of one and its slowly going mad trying to find it's other half (which is also trying to get home to its counterpart).

The planet itself is largely agriculture and manufacturing for an extremely large confectionary conglomerate, and millennia of farming the land and consuming food grown on it has eventually changed the populaces' hair and skin to be tinted bright pink :3 there's some kind of harmless chemical that does this, don't worry too much about it

So that Stellaron half that's out and about was originally harvested as a gemstone, used to decorate an intricate clock and sold far away for like a bajillion dollars. But the Stellaron half wants to go home, and so anyone who has it ends up wanting to visit Celarys...

Previous owners had either had the clock stolen from them or ended up visiting Celarys without the clock, suddenly couldn't remember why they'd wanted to come here so bad and identified the clock as a cursed item and promptly got rid of it, and eventually it ends up in the stash of a rare antiques dealer. The Stellaron half is fed the fuck up at this point, and is basically making this poor man lose his mind, filling his head with nightmares and threats of her doesn't take this fucking clock to some pink little planet at the edge of some galaxy. He finds someone there interested in strange antiques and sells it to the CEO of the confectionary company, President Marinelo Rousseau, who delights in it's cursed history bc he's a weirdo and displays it with his collection of other histories strange antiques.

And where there's a Stellaron, there's mental manipulation and disaster, and also often the Astral Express :3

The president's mental focus and emotional stability take a major hit, and his son Marcelle who's being groomed to take over his position when he retires in a few hundred years starts worrying big time. Between him and the trusted CFO they manage to get him to take a leave of health, but his condition worsens, he starts slipping in the middle of the night to god knows where and returning with wild eyes and dirt under his fingernails. (The Stellaron is making him dig to find his other half buried in the mountainside. He really should have just asked the local miners about it but both halves are half-mad with the grief of not being whole and desperation to reunite, so neither the Stellaron pieces nor the president are making good choices)

Meanwhile, since this is a Stellaron we're talking about, there's all sorts of shit going haywire. The president's recent insistence on increased production and potential deal with the ipc, the stress on the agricultural and manufacturing workers leading to dissatisfaction and organizing in both factors, lobbies in the government from not only ag and manu but also mining because they're also in proximity to the buried Stellaron half and are feeling a desperate need to expand their tunnels unconnected to production directives

The face of the agriculture union movement is a tough rancher named Anaïs who honestly didn't mean to be the driving force behind all this but increased demands are putting stress on her beloved dairy cattle and thus must be stopped.

There are of course weather disturbances affecting crops and livestock and also daily life on the planet. The governor and her assistant are running around putting out fires, so to speak, regarding these issues, especially because the agricultural and livestock products are a huge part of their economy. There are a few Senators looking to take advantage of the chaos but they're less fleshed out lol

eventually the Astral Express crew gets wind of this, March and the trailblazer get excited about the snacks they'll be able to find there, and they arrive to help root out the Stellaron

Marcelle has called his older brother (Lieutenant) Marinelo (Junior) back to Celarys to help. Marinelo arrives about when the express does, recognizes the big train and knows they might be able to help, after news of all the places they've helped out with great disasters.

The dock where the express starts isn't that far from the heart of the main city Rosaire, but Marcelle sets them up in the guest manor on their grounds both as an apology for having to beg their help and to station them closer to important spots in Rosaire and the surrounding land. Let the investigation begin!

Marcelle begrudgingly allows them to contact his little brother Maraschino who is, for most appearances, a drunken philanderer wasting his father's money on personal pleasure... but the truth is that he's got a masterful network of connections and information and has been keeping an eye on the goings-on around the city ever since his dad went off the deep end. He does try to hit on Himeko though and March and the TB close ranks to remind him in no uncertain terms that their mom that himeko is off limits! especially to *you.*

Dan Heng assists with information on stellarons and previvous encounters, Lt Marinelo allows him access to the Rousseau family library which is quite extensive. also. there is a mutual crush there. :3c and Marinelo is worried about acting on it because humans live such a short time compared to Sucrelves which is on average 500 or so years

during the investigation they cross paths with a journalism student who's trying to track down these weird rumors about the Rousseau Confectionary Company's president and his mysterious illness. Laurent Vivier is also keeping tabs on, and writing articles about, the work the governor is doing and the workplace organizing, but this has been his secret passion project ever since he heard the rumor about the president sneaking out at night to go digging in the mountainside with his hands.

anyway that's kind of where i've gotten to with it. but it just keeps kind of expanding on its own, and when I get stuck sometimes I go back to the picrew and play around with character ideas lol

pink hair is fun :) but also dangerous, because sometimes you end up with an entire new region for your favorite game in your head

[panic-and-procrastinate-writing]

new outlaw team!

this is the idea i had for jasons all girl/gay squad that i think he deserves, so! my oc outlaws team for jason i as follows: (it gets really long from here sorry)

a bue/green lantern (afab enby gothamite artist that doesn’t bind) that was inspired by red hood at the moment before their (almost) death and thus got both a green and blue power ring bc red hood gave them hope in their last moments and they found the will to survive. surprised the fuck out of everyone and when the green lanterns of earth told them they had to head to Oa and Odym to get their space sector they said nope! not being a space cop bc no.1 acab! and no.2 theres no pay? and no healthcare?! not in this economy! so they’ve been putting off going to Oa and talking to the gaurdians, instead hanging around red hood bc what else are they supposed to fucking do? does actually agree with jasons philosphy on how gotham doesn’t change and they should do something about that fucking clown, also happens to be half british and thats why their really creative in their rude insults, humongous balls, big enought to call batman a cunt to his face, and doesn’t tolerate conditional love (transphobic family probs) and! happens to have jasons dog from before, when asked why they said they found her on the streets and doesn’t know what happened to the previous owner. (jason knows, isabella got possessed by essence and then was never heard of again oops)

a speedster from the future (where else?) and is trying to stop the apocolypse. she’s kind of like her own red hood in terms of the speedster family, in which no one will take responsibility for the hurt they caused her and instead blame her for something that literally wasn’t her fault. (someone they love probably died and they couldn’t stop it, so blamed it on her for the shittiest of reasons), bc of this they exiled her from the city where the apocolypse begun (ground zero) and thus she could see the death cloud coming and managed to out run it into the past to try and stop it. i figured she would be massive adhd representation as well that goes undiagnosed for a long time bc they think its just how speedsters are (except her brain runs so much faster than the average speedster and therefore everyone thinks shes stupid bc she can’t catch her thoughts in time.) hella emotional bc of the adhd, a fucked up perception of time bc adhd and speedster, jesus its just the worst combination known to man. also imagine her with Lil Nas’ hair in that one pic (those cute ass fucking twists)

an atlantean that is basically female jason momoa, and really reminds jason of artemis to the point where the squad end up talking about how jason misses his amazon. Shes the tallest with tattoos all over her body, especially her giant beefy arms. she has atlantean magic and hydrokinesis, and even hydromancy (seing the future through water). shes a prodigy when it comes to atlantean magic, but in the middle of her 3rd year in magic school she had a traumatic exprience that fucked her up a lot. (person in authority abused their power i think you know where im going with this) bc of this she changed and her grades fell and she dropped out to escape her abusers watchful gaze and touch. when confronted about it she eventually broke down and told her mother, but that was the wrong thing to do. at first her mother told her that shes lying to escape trouble bc who would want her? shes too masculine to ever have someone want her. then she was told that she should be happy, somone finally wanted her. then she was told that it was her fault, she must have done something to lead on such a respected man, and that she was lying and she secretly wanted it. Bc of her masculine nature she faced a lot of misogyny and transphobia (from her mother) despite not being trans, bc terfs don’t care about masculine women, and reinforce the patriarchy throught their bullshit of thinking if women don’t fit in a perfect model of feminity then you are “as bad as men”. eventually she left atlantis and headed to the surface, bc mans world cant be worse than mothers world. She would understand what it’s like to be betrayed and failed by your parent same as jason, and i feel like those two are a “kill everyone if you die on me” kind of duo. is also a lightweight when it comes to human alcohol. very funny when she thinks she can drink everyone under the table bc she could jellyshot pretty heavy in atlantis and then procedes to get shit faced from a 5% wheat beer. on the floor crying after one drink lol.

the fourth and final member (excluding dog) would be a white martian that all four of them rescue. the speedster tracked the energy source of the apocolypse and discovered it was underwater, deep underwater. so redhood, lantern and speedster track down someone who can go that deep, our beloved atlantean. deciding to take the job (bc why not this shits interesting) the four of them head under, and going in blind, make an absolute mess. they have no blue print of the place, no clue what they are looking for or what to do with it if they find it. its possibly the end of the fucking world and they’re just bashing heads left and right, fighting goons all the way to the middle of this underwater base. and there, in the middle of a glass contanment cell, is a fucked up looking martian. Martian manhunter said all the white martians were gone, but clearly fucking not. none of them know about (white) martians or what they did, so they gladly rescue this fucker. not knowing what else to do, they bring the base down before fleeing with their prescious alien. (jason did do some hacking before they left and stole the data, but has yet to decode it) When the martian wakes up, it remembers literally nothing, and it becomes an entire plot point to figuring out how this sweet and confused creature could possibly end the world. and they are sweet! white martians have been written as villains for manhunter since the beginning (and there has only been one! white martian that has befriended manhunter, mad discrimination against an entire race), but this lil dude is just scared, and loves korean dramas. When manhunter discovers them, i think it would be justice league vs outlaws bc of the prejudice against our poor lil alien. they would probably be extremely genderfluid in the coolest way bc of shapeshifting, and also bc martian genders and sexes are a completely different binary to a humans gender binary, therefore wouldn’t fit on it all. would probably have a very feminine presentation though bc they are mostly surrounded by women and afabs, and are trying to fit in.

christ this got away from me. anyway, jason deserves women who understand him and can be his actual family. these girls and gays 100% convinced him to steal the batmobile and they wrecked his “memorial” in the batcave. ready to dunk on(fist fight and kill on a tuesday) Bman at a moments notice. jason’s polycule that call batman a bitchless furry to his face in front of the justice league. He is the only man and it makes him feel safe.

AND he has his dog!!! and she wont be named dog. she will be called michael bc its really funny to me. jason just turns to his dog in the car next to him and says “michael you seein this shit?” and its batman making out with catwoman. they boo at them.

[johnnyrobish]

British Prime Minister Liz Truss Resigns After Only Six Weeks in Office

British Prime Minister Liz Truss has been forced to resign after just six weeks in office.  Her downfall came after she announced enormous tax cuts for the wealthy without any explanation as to how they'd be paid for, which sent the UK's economy into a massive freefall.  This made her time in office, the shortest tenure in history for a British prime minister.

Gee, only six weeks?  Wonder how many Scaramuccis that amounts to?  The big joke in the UK was “which would last longer, Truss’ tenure, or a head of lettuce?”  Well, lettuce think about that for a minute, because for her measly 49 days in office, she’s now entitled to an annual pension of £115,000 per year (approx. $130,000) - starting immediately.  Not a bad six-week haul for someone who says the “Welfare State” destroys people’s incentive to work.

Taking a page right out of “Donald Trump’s political playbook,” Prime Minister Truss chose her chancellor and close ally Kwasi Kwarteng to be the fall guy who would announce their insane plan to make the UK’s wealthy folks even richer, and when her approval rating quickly fell below that of a pit bull on crack, she then made him the scapegoat - and promptly fired him.  I can hear her now, “Who is this Kwarteng guy away?  I really didn’t know him.  I’m pretty sure he was just some guy who went out to get coffee for everyone here in the office.”  

Ironically, some Tories now want to replace Truss with disgraced former Prime Minster Boris Johnson.  However, word has it Johnson’s off partying in some undisclosed location, and is in no condition to comment. Meanwhile, QAnon fans are claiming it only took Truss two days after being appointed Prime Minister - to murder the Queen.  Of course, here in the US, angry MAGA Republicans have been blaming Jews and their space lasers for taking down the Tory prime minister.

Now, I realize some are asking just how can something like this happen in a sophisticated nation like the UK?  Well, the answer is conservatives these days would vote for Ace Ventura: Pet Detective - just as long as he promised them “lots of tax cuts for the wealthy and harsh anti-immigration laws.”  I mean, is it just me, or does it almost seem like the United Kingdom is politically becoming an awful lot like Italy, only with much blander food?

If you’ve enjoyed what you’ve just read, please consider joining me at:

[shammah8]

RHAPSODY OF REALITIES DAILY DEVOTIONAL

SOAR HIGHER

MONDAY 2ND OCTOBER 2023

📖.....Blessed is the man that trusteth in the Lord, and whose hope the Lord is. For he shall be as a tree planted by the waters, and that spreadeth out her roots by the river, and shall not see when heat comneth, but her leaf shall be green; and shall not be careful in the year of drought, neither shall cease from yielding fruit (Jeremiah 17:7-8).

PASTOR CHRIS OYAKHILOME

When someone says to you, "Things are so expensive now; prices have gone up." Smile and say, "I"ve gone higher than the prices. I've ascended beyond inflation." That should always be your mentality.

From experience, we've only known prices of goods and commodities to always keep going higher. The cry has always been that things are getting more expensive. So, if it's happening again, why do you care? Don't let it trouble you, because you're the seed of Abraham. Your life is different.

I found out in my Bible that God's people always soared in hard times. Isaac prospered in the midst of extremely harsh economic conditions (Genesis 26). Don't be troubled; just raise your standard higher; soar higher than the world's market forces. Let your mind soar beyond the country where you live. Think how big God is, and what He can do with and through you.

We shine brighter in the dark. When everything is bright, not everyones light will be noticed. But when it's dark, even the dimmest flicker will be noticed; every light shines in the dark. The Bible says, "For, behold, the darkness shall cover the earth, and gross darkness the people: but the Lord shall arise upon thee, and his glory shall be seen upon thee" (Isaiah 60:2). It's time for you to shine!

The Bible says, "And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose" (Romans 8:28). When inflation skyrockets and the prices of commodities increase, don't cry or complain. It'll only create opportunities for you because your faith will get you the money you require. Your prosperity isn't based on what your company pays you or the available opportunities in your country; your prosperity is a function of who you are: an heir of God and a joint-heir with Christ.

            PRAYER

Dear Father, I affirm that I excel beyond inflation and financial uncertainties. Your Word empowers me to flourish regardless of external circumstances, for you are my true source. I am not a victim of the economy of my nation. I am among those creating opportunities for others. I have already overcome the world and its systems, so I am reigning in life, in the Name of Jesus. Amen.

FURTHER STUDY

Romans 8:37 Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us.

Psalm 37:25 I have been young, and now am old; yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread.

Philippians 4:19 But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.

[mopeymousey]

Being an American is so fucking weird y'all.

Our government and economy has not worked well since, at best, the 80s.

Our two party system is so deep that you can walk outside and know from a 5 sec interaction who someone voted for usually.

Going from state to state (sometimes an hour drive tops) means you go from something being totally legal to something being a felony. Weed, abortions, guns...

If you go to a gathering of people, you will think about safe exit plans for if there is gunfire. School, concerts, church, movies, fairs, parades, hospitals, office buildings... I don't go to big events much anymore.

You just accept that 40+ hours a week with an at-will employer gives you a 10% discount on healthcare that will bankrupt you anyway.

You can either be well off enough, mentally and financially, to take care of yourself or you can be like the rest of us who are too poor and beaten to do anything but eat from the overpriced overprocessed trough of American food and become the fat American stereotype

Oh, and the rest of the world is mocking us because our parents and grandparents were complete fucking shitheads who talked so much game but left their kin in the god damn mud. I don't blame y'all for hating us, but it's lonely.

To attempt to balance this post out though: deep fried corn dogs, americana music, central air conditioning, pop punk, baseball, Hamilton, Fahrenheit (it's better for weather descriptions fight me), Disney world, and my grandma who grew up as a potato farmer and is now a wealthy single lady who smokes weed on her porch and yells at ducks.

Gods help the USA 💀🎆

[montie-edblog]

Blog Intro Post

Greetings fellow students, thank you for showing up at my tumblr page. I chose to use this because I already have a tumblr account that I use for talking about my hobbies (video games, fantasy and sci-fi, RPGs) so I decided to use this platform for its familiarity. Moreover, much of the tumblr user populace tends to jive pretty closely with the virtues and ethics I hold dear. My name is Alexander Montie and I am originally from Madison, Wisconsin. I graduated from Beloit College in 2009 with a BA in history, and lived in China from 2012 - 2016. While there I taught and worked in government affairs, ultimately deciding that it was time to return to the United States when the government began to take a decidedly more authoritarian, non foreigner-friendly bent. I brought my wife back here and put her through nursing school; as an RN she is currently supporting me to get my teaching license and MA in Curriculum and Instruction. My travels, multilingual background, and experiences with people from many different societies have all strongly influenced my perceptions of my students; I've strongly internalized the notion that 'correct' ways of speaking English are subjective, and that my kids' various identity facets are just as valid as mine. I also have seen a lot that contradicts the very dominant cultural, political and capitalist narratives in the USA and am more than ready to point them out; this may rankle some, but fortunately we're at a public institution where we can freely exchange ideas under the auspice of furthering ourselves. I'm a major proponent of individual freedoms and someone who takes a militant stand against bad authority and poor management. The teaching profession is not only under assault with stagnant wages, too much workload, and increasingly dangerous conditions from guns and regressive elements in our society, but our students are being ill-provided for, subject to harsh discipline based on their race (particularly Black students), and graduating into an economy in decline. I often go over my students' freedoms and rights within the school, and ensure that they know it doesn't have to be so difficult, and that many of the obstacles they face were consciously imposed upon them (for example credit scores weren't a thing until 1997). As an ESL teacher many of my students may come from societies where they've never even heard of these rights, but many Americans don't really know their own freedoms, which is why I am a big fan of this particular page on the ACLU website: https://www.aclu.org/know-your-rights/students-rights

[fatliberation]

I’m Abandoning Body Positivity and Here’s Why

In short: it’s fatphobic.

“A rallying cry for a shift in societal norms has now become the skinny girl’s reassurance that she isn’t really fat. Fatness, through this lens of ‘body positivity’, remains the worst thing a person can be.” (Kayleigh Donaldson)

•  •  •

I have always had a lot of conflicting opinions about the body positivity movement, but it’s much more widely known (and accepted, go figure) than the fat liberation movement, so I often used the two terms interchangeably in conversation about anti-fatness. But the longer I’ve been following the body positivity movement, the more I’ve realized how much it has strayed from its fat lib origins. It has been hijacked; deluded to center thin, able, white, socially acceptable bodies.

Bopo’s origins are undoubtedly grounded in fat liberation. The fat activists of the 1960s paved the way for the shred of size acceptance we see in media today, initially protesting the discrimination and lack of access to equal opportunities for fat people specifically. This early movement highlighted the abuse, mental health struggles, malpractice in the medical field, and called for equal pay, equal access, equal respect, an end to fatphobic structures and ideas. It saddens me that it hasn’t made much progress in those regards. 

Today, the #bopo movement encapsulates more the idea of loving your own body versus ensuring that individuals regardless of their weight and appearance are given equal opportunities in the workplace, schools, fashion and media. Somehow those demands never made it outside of the ‘taboo’ category, and privileged people would much more readily accept the warm and fuzzy, sugar-coated message of “love yourself!” But as @yrfatfriend once said, this idea reduces fat people’s struggles to a problem of mindset, rather than a product of external oppressors that need to be abolished in order for fat people to live freely.

That generalized statement, “love yourself,” is how a movement started by fat people for the rights of fat people was diluted so much, it now serves a thin model on Instagram posting about how she has a tummy roll and cellulite on her thighs - then getting praised for loving her body despite *gasp!* its minor resemblance to a fat body. 

Look. Pretty much everyone has insecurities about their bodies, especially those of us who belong to marginalized groups. If you don’t have body issues, you’re a privileged miracle, but our beauty-obsessed society has conditioned us to want to look a certain way, and if we have any features that the western beauty standard considers as “flaws,” yeah! We feel bad about it! So it’s not surprising that people who feel bad about themselves would want to hop on a movement that says ‘hey, you’re beautiful as you are!’ That’s a message everyone would like to hear. Any person who has once thought of themselves as less than beautiful now feels that this movement is theirs. And everyone has insecurities, so everyone feels entitled to the safe space. And when a space made for a minority includes the majority, the cycle happens again and the majority oppresses the minority. What I’m trying to explain here is that thin people now feel a sense of ownership over body positive spaces. 

Regardless of how badly thin people feel about their bodies, they still experience thin privilege. They can sit down in a theater or an airplane without even thinking about it, they can eat in front of others without judgement, they can go the doctor with a problem and actually have it fixed right away, they can find cute clothes in their size with ease, they do not suffer from assumptions of laziness/failure based on stereotype, they see their body type represented everywhere in media, the list goes on and on. They do not face discrimination based off of the size of their body. 

Yet diet culture and fatphobia affects everyone, and of course thin people do still feel bad about the little fat they have on their bodies. But the failure to examine WHY they feel bad about it, is what perpetuates fatphobia within the bopo movement. They’re labeled “brave” for showing a pinch of chub, yet fail to address what makes it so acceptably daring, and how damaging it is to people who are shamed for living in fat bodies. Much like the rest of society, thin body positivity is still driven by the fear of fat, and does nothing to dismantle fatphobia within structures or within themselves.

Evette Dionne sums it up perfectly in her article, “The Fragility of Body Positivity: How a Radical Movement Lost Its Way.”

“The body-positive media economy centers these affirming, empowering, let-me-pinch-a-fat-roll-to-show-how-much-I-love-myself stories while failing to actually challenge institutions to stop discriminating against fat people. More importantly, most of those stories center thin, white, cisgender, heterosexual women who have co-opted the movement to build their brands. Rutter has labeled this erasure ‘Socially Acceptable Body Positivity.’

“On social media, it actually gets worse for fat bodies: We’re not just being erased from body positivity, fat women are being actively vilified. Health has become the stick with which to beat fat people with [sic], and the benchmark for whether body positivity should include someone” (Dionne).

Ah, yes. The medicalization of fat bodies, and the moralization of health. I’ve ranted about this before. Countless comments on posts of big women that say stuff like “I’m all for body positivity, but this is just unhealthy and it shouldn’t be celebrated.” I’ve heard writer/activist Aubrey Gordon once say that body positivity has become something like a shield for anti-fatness. It’s anti-fatness that has been repackaged as empowerment. It’s a striking double-standard. Fat people are told to be comfortable in their bodies (as if that’s what’s going to fix things) but in turn are punished when they’re okay with being fat. Make it make sense.

Since thin people feel a sense of ownership over body positive spaces, and they get to hide behind “health” when they are picking and choosing who can and cannot be body positive, they base it off of who looks the most socially acceptable. And I’m sure they aren’t consciously picking and choosing, it comes from implicit bias. But the socially acceptable bodies they center are small to medium fat, with an hourglass shape. They have shaped a new beauty standard specifically FOR FAT PEOPLE. (Have you ever seen a plus sized model with neck fat?? I’m genuinely asking because I have yet to find one!) The bopo movement works to exclude and silence people who are on the largest end of the weight spectrum. 

Speaking of exclusion, let’s talk about fashion for a minute.

For some reason, (COUGH COUGH CAPITALISM) body positivity is largely centered around fashion. And surprise surprise, it’s still not inclusive to fat people. Fashion companies get a pat on the back for expanding their sizing two sizes up from what they previously offered, when they are still leaving out larger fat people completely. In general, clothing companies charge more for clothes with more fabric, so people who need the largest sizes are left high and dry. It’s next to impossible to find affordable clothes that also look nice. Fashion piggybacks on the bopo movement as a marketing tactic, and exploits the very bodies it claims to be serving. (Need I mention the time Urban Outfitters used a "curvy” model to sell a size it doesn’t even carry?)

The movement also works to exclude and silence fat Black activists.

In her article, “The Body Positivity Movement Both Takes From and Erases Fat Black Women” Donyae Coles explains how both white people and thin celebrities such as Jameela Jamil profit from the movement that Black women built.

“Since long before blogging was a thing, fat Black women have been vocal about body acceptance, with women like Sharon Quinn and Marie Denee, or the work of Sonya Renee Taylor with The Body Is Not An Apology. We’ve been out here, and we’re still here, but the overwhelming face of the movement is white and thin because the mainstream still craves it, and white and thin people have no problem with profiting off the work of fat, non-white bodies.”

“There is a persistent belief that when thin and/or white people enter the body positive realm and begin to repeat the messages that Black women have been saying for years in some cases, when they imitate the labor that Black women have already put in that we should be thankful that they are “boosting” our message. This completely ignores the fact that in doing so they are profiting off of that labor. They are gaining the notoriety, the mark of an expert in something they learned from an ignored Black woman” (Coles).

My next essay will go into detail about this and illuminate key figures who paved the way for body acceptance in communities of color. 

The true purpose of this movement has gotten completely lost. So where the fuck do we go from here? 

We break up with it, and run back to the faithful ex our parents disapproved of. We go back to the roots of the fat liberation movement, carved out for us by the fat feminists, the queer fat activists, the fat Black community, and the allies it began with. Everything they have preached since the 1960s and 70s is one hundred percent applicable today. We get educated. We examine diet culture through a capitalist lens. We tackle thin, white-supremacist systems and weight based discrimination, as well as internalized bias. We challenge our healthcare workers to unlearn their bias, treat, and support fat patients accordingly. We make our homes and spaces accessible and welcoming to people of any size, or any (dis)ability. “We must first protect and uplift people in marginalized bodies, only then can we mandate self-love” (Gordon).

Think about it. In the face of discrimination, mistreatment, and emotional abuse, we as a society are telling fat people to love their bodies, when we should be putting our energy toward removing those fatphobic ideas and structures so that fat people can live in a world that doesn’t require them to feel bad about their bodies. It’s like hitting someone with a rock and telling them not to bruise!

While learning to love and care for the body that you’re in is important, I think that body positivity also fails in teaching that because it puts even more emphasis on beauty. Instead of saying, “you don’t have to be ‘beautiful’ to be loved and appreciated,” its main lesson is that “all bodies are beautiful.” We live in a society obsessed with appearance, and it is irresponsible to ignore the hierarchy of beauty standards that exist in every space. Although it should be relative, “beautiful” has been given a meaning. And that meaning is thin, abled, symmetric, and eurocentric. 

Beauty and ugliness are irrelevant, made-up constructs. People will always be drawn to you no matter what, so you deserve to exist in your body without struggling to conform to an impossible and bigoted standard. Love and accept your body for YOURSELF AND NO ONE ELSE, because you do not exist to please the eyes of other people. That’s what I wish we were teaching instead. Radical self acceptance!

As of today, the ultimate message of the body positivity movement is: Love your body “despite its imperfections.” Or people with “perfect and imperfect bodies both deserve love.” As long as we are upholding the notion that there IS a perfect body that looks a certain way, and every body that falls outside of that category is imperfect, we are upholding white supremacy, eugenics, anti-fatness, and ableism.

[youarejesting]

Sea [1/2]

Beta: @lillielil @aroseforyoongi​ @seokjinssymphony​ @kpooplifeforever​ @explosiveranga​​ & my good friend Z (let me know if I left anyone out.) Rating: 17+ Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Reader Genre: Action, Adventure, Angst, Fluff, Comedy, slow burn, slice of life. Words: 6.8k

Summary: After your plane to Korea takes an unexpected detour, you are stranded with someone you aren’t even sure speaks English. As the race begins to stay alive, emotions run high and tempers short. The unlikely contender in the survival race is love which snuck up on you both.

The thought of a thirteen-hour flight didn't bring you much joy. Why would it? Being trapped in a small box with wings, not to mention being stuck in said box with multiple people breathing recycled farts and eating some sort of wet styrofoam they called food that would most definitely give you food poisoning. Oh yes, what a joy it would be to be in a seat for hours on end, letting your skin slowly dry up. 

Arriving at the terminal, you stood waiting for them to start boarding. You would have been sitting if there was a single seat free. Seriously, some asshole had even dared to lay across no less than five and a half seats, his bag resting on the empty chair at the end. 

He was wearing all black and looked comfortable in his jeans and hoodie. His black cap pulled down over his eyes and you could see the bleached blonde hair sticking out from underneath. Big chunky headphones on his ears made it possible for this man to drown out the world around him.

You glared at his legs, growing tired, knowing that within a few hours you would be begging for the chance to stand up. If you were to take a mental count, there hadn’t been any nice experiences you could recall in regards to traveling on a plane.

Did that reflect the quality of service or your standard of air travel? No. Obviously, your standards were realistic, not expecting the flight time any shorter or the staff to give a foot massage or anything outrageous. 

You really didn't want any extra luxuries other than what was offered in the pamphlet — and yes, that meant you chose first-class — because if you were to suffer, you would do so in the best environment.

Unfortunately, the reality of it was that there was no better or more comfortable way to travel. Checking in, you would be boarding first before the other passengers, not really a privilege. However you got in line anyway behind the young man who had previously been lounging across the airport seats. He was holding up the line having lost his passport and you were getting more and more pissed. 

You were simply just having a bad day. 

A woman behind you started openly arguing, exclaiming that this man was not allowed to ride first class as he clearly wasn’t fit for it. Bringing up his style of dress and the headphones around his neck. You turned, glaring daggers at the woman until she became silent. 

Society taught people to judge based on appearance, that everyone fit into a category, never mind the old adage to ‘never judge a book based on it’s cover’. Stil, you were always respectful and treated others equally, maybe even getting to know a person that you wouldn’t in other circumstances. It always surprised you how much you enjoyed taking a risk and getting to know them.

Once you showed your ticket and passport, you traveled down the long hall towards the plane. You saw the man in front of you talking with another man. He seemed to respect him and was reading him a schedule from his phone. You raised your eyebrows and smiled at the young stewardess who welcomed you on board. Her hair was pristine in a tight bun and her crisp, dark blue outfit was paired with a red scarf.

Stepping over the small gap, you felt the cold of the air conditioning, yet the air still felt thick. There were three places you could go to feel this type of cold: the dentist, an airplane, or the movies. First class was spacious with only a single cubicle on either side of the aisle. You took your seat. It was like personal rooms where you could close a sliding screen for more privacy, even though you were sitting next to someone, you wouldn't be able to see them at all.

The seats were more like arm chairs that one could lay back completely in, made with a brilliant blue leather. The cubicle room was complemented in a similar shade but with red features. You had a tv and a tiny minibar that had a small selection of drinks and snacks.

The flight attendants took all the passengers through the safety instructions. You could practically write them at this point. However they added a few things you had never heard. You had never heard such in-depth instructions going beyond the general life jackets, floatation devices, and first aid kits. 

Never before had they told you about the airbags that would be deployed if you crash in the ocean. Apparently the emergency escape slides doubled as floatation devices and could hold up to one hundred and thirty people comfortably. They even explained how they detach these rafts from the fuselage and that they have ropes that allow them to be tied off to each other or the airframe. 

Distracted by a tired male sighing beside you, you wondered who would fall asleep during the safety messages. Sure they were boring, but even you pretended to care. When you turned to see the culprit, he was disappearing behind the plastic divider of his cubicle dragged by his long pale fingers.

Well, at least you had some privacy. It was something you were thankful for, you wanted to get comfortable, or as comfortable as you could.

Perhaps these new instructions and information were deemed irrelevant to domestic flights. Or perhaps it was for the very enthusiastic kid they led through the first class discussing more of the plane's anatomy. “What if a wing falls off?”

“The plane is really sturdy, the wing wouldn’t just fall off” She grinned, “Let’s see what the pilot is doing and we can get your mum a picture wearing the captain's hat!” 

After the flight attendants thanked everyone for listening, the plane took to the sky. You closed up all sides of your cubicle and requested to be only woken for meals. The stewardess was very diligent and for that you were grateful. 

The journey was nearing the six hour mark and all that one could see was clouds and the ocean. The collection of empty water bottles were a poignant reminder to relieve your bladder. 

You stood up and waddled determined to go to the bathroom. It was inconvenient to drink so much water but you didn't want to get dehydrated. 

Feeling much better, you took a few minutes to look in the mirror and moisturise as your skin was feeling particularly dry already. Startled from your self care routine by a light rapping on the door, you packed up your things and pulled open the door. Unfortunately, at that moment, the plane shook.

It was like something from a romance novel, the way you fell against him and yet, there was nothing elegant or poetic in the way you fell against him.

Your face slammed into his chest and his head hit the wall with a heavy thud. "Sorry, I'm sorry"

"Shibal" he said, his language was something unlike you have ever heard, it was rhythmic and sounded like a song. His voice was so low and rumbly it almost sounded like he was purring. 

You weren’t well versed in other languages or cultures, so you didn’t know what he was saying. This was your first time leaving your country. If it wasn’t for the damn holiday raffle at work, you wouldn’t have even left your house. Every other flight you had ever been on was domestic and therefore your suffering was short lived, but this flight was long and you were getting rather bored. It seemed your mind was reeling trying to absorb all that it could and currently that meant the poor man you had body slammed into the wall was under your perusal.

His body was thin unlike yours which was curvaceous. His hair was dark and shaggy making his pale skin almost ghostly. He had sharp cat-like eyes that were quite intimidating as they glared at you and his small downturned lips were yet to speak. He seemed like a man of few words. All this coldness was juxtaposed by his cute round nose. You could tell from his features that he was from Asia, but you couldn't pinpoint where.

Grabbing your shoulders, he started to push you off of him, when the plane shook again and you both fell back into the small bathroom. Your back hit the toilet, and a searing pain bloomed from the impact causing your body to lock up as it radiated through you.

The seat belt light came on. You both scrambled to your feet bumping into the walls, sink and each other from the unstable winds shaking the plane. Struggling back to your seats when the cabin pressure changed. There was a creaking sound and the plane started shaking. You immediately felt a sick sense of dread. The pilot spoke calmly about turbulence and requested everyone return to their seats. But the pair of you couldn't move down the aisle to your seats.

There was a sound like a car backfiring and someone from economy class shouted about the wing being on fire. Your grip on the young man's coat tightened and a terrifying sound like metal groaning filled the cabin. That didn’t sound like regular turbulence, you were sure of that.

Sharing a horrified look with the young man, you got up the courage to try to push off from the wall. Unsuccessful, you were once more pressed against the wall. The plane was plummeting. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the emergency box. What was this emergency and what in that box could fix this situation?

"You need to return to your seats,” the stewardess said. The smell of smoke was strong and it filled the inside of the plane quickly. You hadn’t even seen the stewardess trying to climb through the plane. Her grip strained on the walls and seats as she fought against the force pushing her back. “We are making an emergency landing." 

The metal sound was louder. Shrieking like nails on a chalkboard, it pierced through the cabin. You watched as the side of the plane ripped completely off with the ease of someone removing the plastic off a new fridge. There was a feeling of being weightless before a drop on a roller coaster, and then it was like your stomach was left behind. The stewardess was sucked out from the cabin behind you. 

You and the young Asian man were sliding backwards down the aisle trying to find something to grab onto. The floor in first class was some sort of linoleum and gave you a nasty burn as you slid. It was like fire against your skin. As the pilot fought with the plane, you practically bounced off every seat. 

It felt like you were weightless for a brief moment as you were lifted off the ground, your back hit the roof before you smacked the floor again. All the wind had been knocked out of you. 

The pilots were fighting against the drop, so in the moment of calm before the plummet, you grabbed the leg of an economy class seat as it was bolted to the ground. You looked at the young man, watching the panic as he realized he was too far away to hold on and dangerously close to the large opening. He began slipping out of the plane, his hands flailing before clamping around your ankle. The two of you were almost hanging outside the plane. 

Everyone in economy class was panicking and wearing oxygen masks. No wonder you couldn’t breathe. Gasping for breath, you cursed yourself for liking all those action movies that made this look easy. 

“Hold on!” You all but screamed more to yourself than the poor guy holding your leg. He was being completely battered by the wind. You felt his hands slipping and you reached down with one hand to grab his wrist and he grabbed yours. He looked thankful.

“Shibal,” he groaned, his voice straining. Your body was being stretched. The cold metal was unforgiving, and it tore apart the skin on your palm. Your eyes were watering in protest to the wind and smoke that was drying them out.

The drink trolley that the stewardesses had been moving through the aisles had gotten loose and went flying down the plane. It hit an old man in the back of the head. You knew he wouldn’t make it, and speaking of, it was headed straight for you. You watched in fear, like some horrifying game of chicken as the trolley came for you. Thankfully, it bounced on the floor inches from your hand and flew out of the plane. 

It was a mix of flinching and the force of the wind that made your hand on the chair slip. You slid further out of the plane, grabbing the exposed shell of the plane with your free hand. Your other hand desperately clutching the young man's hand watching in horror as he smacked into the side of the plane unconscious. “Shit!” 

His body was limp and you had to do something. With all the strength you had, you tried to pull his flailing form closer to protect him. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the ocean quickly advancing. You were going to hit the water.

The breeze pressing against you was fierce. Your eyes were dry, making you think of your eyedrops in your carry-on luggage. You could see the water coming up quicker now; you tried to gauge what would be a survivable height. Knowing you had a higher chance of surviving freediving as opposed to hanging halfway from the plane, where you would both slam head first into the plane. You decided to take the leap.

Screaming in absolute terror as you watched the fast approaching water, you let go just in time. It was equivalent to a few stories on a building from the ground. Wrapping him in your arms, you pointed yourselves down deciding to break the fall. Lifting your free hand above your head like you were doing a high dive, you hit the water. It was such a shock, the liquid was so cold it caused your muscles to lock up.

Your adrenaline was pumping, and one of your arms felt numb and unresponsive. You swam oddly to the surface, gasping when you felt the air on your skin. He was unconscious, and you held his face out of the water.

The plane wasn't too far away and for now was on the surface of the water. The emergency exit inflatable slide, which doubled as a raft, had been deployed but no survivors seemed to climb out.

You swam in a side stroke to keep your damaged arm and the young man's unconscious form out of the water. You hoped he was going to be okay. The only thought in your head was making it to the raft and you were doing everything in your power to get there, even contemplating leaving him behind. But you weren't going to give up, a part of you wanted to prove you could do it.

Reaching the raft felt euphoric. Taking a deep breath you pushed him into the raft. Doing a quick check of his head and body, you noticed he was breathing oddly. You turned him on his side and tried to clear his airway. A little bit of water trickled out before you performed CPR.  Your saving grace came when he coughed and spluttered, placing him in the recovery position and hoping he would be okay on his own for a moment. You looked around for any more survivors. There was luggage floating around, and you picked up all you could from the water. 

Walking along the inflatable back into the plane, the water was not as high in first class. This was probably due to the hole in the plane in the economy. The right side being the only one of the inflatables that had inflated beside the plane. Keeping the plane precariously afloat balancing on two inflatables which had malfunctioned and inflated under the plane.

Moving quickly and wading through the icy water, you grabbed the emergency kits on the wall. You had passed by deceased passengers and tried not to look. It was eerie and unbelievable even though it had only just happened.

Bags littered the water and you guided them towards the exit and put them on the raft. You could save these people's possessions for their family, or there could be items inside that could be of use and save your life. 

You also noticed the flight attendant area and raided the cupboards as quickly as you could. You grabbed the medical kit, some slippers, a range of very thin blankets that were wet and even some snacks carrying everything back to the floatation rafts. As an afterthought you braved a second trip back into the plane to grab your and the other man’s overhead luggage as you knew he would likely appreciate it.

Finding a bunch of cell phones floating around the cabin. You grabbed them all hoping one would be waterproof. You found a few that were still turned on, but only one seemed to have some sort of signal. The plane creaked as you started making the emergency call. 

“Come on” you begged the phone to connect. The whole plane creaked again and tilted; it wouldn’t last long. You had desperately searched for survivors but there was no one obviously alive. You tried your best to check their vitals, but time was running out. Hopefully, you wouldn’t be cursed for pronouncing everyone dead.

"Hello, this is an emergency service hotline?" A voice cut through the silence, you looked at the phone about to cry in relief "fire, ambulance or police"

"Hello, we were in a plane crash, my name is y/n, we were on a flight from Los Angeles to Seoul"

"What is your location?" the woman said, confused by your description.

"The ocean" you hissed "we are on a life raft"

"How many people are with you, what are their names?"

"Just one. I don't know his name. He is asian. Um really thin, um, has dark hair and—”

"You seem to be breaking up" the emergency operator said with the voice cutting out. You looked down at the phone in your hand and sighed. Of course, if everything was going wrong, a phone in the middle of the ocean apparently won’t save you. You thought to yourself, ‘it is 2021 so why isn’t service available everywhere?’ Pocketing the phone you began making your way out the plane.

You headed back to the inflatable and made the decision to cut the plane free. Scared that it would bring the raft down with it. Grabbing more luggage from the water, you thought it best not to watch the plane sink. It would only make you feel worse.

The time went by slowly. It took hours for the plane to disappear. Even though you had promised yourself not to look, you had. Taking glances as the plane slowly sank and you drifted further away. 

The moment the plane was no longer in sight, you curled up and let the tears fall. The sun began setting and the heat turned into a bitter cold. Your wrist was still quite swollen, and you decided to wrap it as you drifted along. You had been so sure that there would be something or someone to see you drifting, and you would be saved. 

However one cold night became two, and then three, only breaking for the scorching heat of the day. 

You thanked yourself for watching all those ‘lost on an island’ movies and television shows; you had learned some things along the way. You also had your father to thank for always dragging you along to the volunteer emergency services programs, ones where you learned how to survive in a forest. At the time you thought it was super lame for your friends to go to nice hotels by the beach for their holidays and you were making some sort of mealworm dish while making stick shelters.

Going over the information you had in your head, you knew water was the priority. The instructor had said humans can go three weeks without food, three days without water, three hours without shelter and three minutes without air. 

The sun would dehydrate you quickly. You had made a small shelter with luggage and blankets to protect you from the sun. 

If you didn’t find land, you were going to have to make some sort of man-made evaporation device to create water. As it was, you were slowly getting the unconscious young man to drink little amounts of bottled water, for he too needed to stay hydrated. 

The man you were with had awoken the third day. He seemed a little freaked out about being alone at sea. You explained calmly, not wanting him to do anything drastic and he sat there processing things. 

You gave him a bottle of water and something to eat. The two of you continued drifting, not speaking a word to one another. You spent most of the time trying to craft something to float on the ocean and create clean drinking water. 

(This evaporation device floats on the ocean and mimics rain by the water droplets sticking to the plastic cover over the whole device when weighted in the middle it then drips back down into a bottle. I can find a reference picture if you need. [Here] [Here] [This one is like what I made in 7th grade camp])

But you couldn’t get the water to land in the bottle and the bottle to stay upright. He was no help, just laying in the shelter out of the sun. The raft was big enough for about one hundred and thirty people. And yet, the two of you sat close by and didn’t say a word.

You were covered in sweat and felt absolutely disgusting. It was time for you to get changed. What a stupid way to die, not from dehydration, or malnourishment, or even sun exposure, but from lack of hygiene. It was decided. 

“I am getting changed, don’t look,” you breathed, opening your carry-on bag.

“I don’t want look,” he muttered back in English and turned away. You quickly put on something that covered your shoulders and tried getting some rest. You didn't want to alarm him, but you both had consumed the last of the water and food rations.

It was late that night when you heard a different sound. The raft was moving a lot more. These were big waves and a part of you hoped it was not a tsunami or whale activity.

When the sound got louder, you were reminded of the beach when waves crashed on the sand. Looking up, you saw something big approaching. It was a body of land. Suddenly, your chances of survival greatly increased, now that you had a way to get out of the water. Nervous about putting your hands in the pitch black water, you looked at your companion peacefully sleeping and made the decision to paddle slowly. Anything to increase your chances of getting to safety. You eventually washed up on the beach, arms aching and stepped out to drag the raft onto the sand.

It was late and still dark, but you had to do something. Thinking that perhaps if you found someone, you would both be saved straight away. You waited on the raft until the sky lightened, and then you got to work collecting sticks and starting a small fire. You took the empty water bottles, hoping to find a clean water source or some fresh water that you could boil.

You walked to the highest point in sight, not seeing any signs of large predatory animals was a good sign. When you reached the top, you felt a sense of satisfaction as you had overcome the many trials and tribulations. You made it through a plane crash, survived on the water, and made it to land. 

Looking around, you saw something bone-chilling. This was an island and judging by the lack of people, houses or establishments, it was uninhabited. There was no civilization to be seen. You saw the tufts of smoke from your fire and tried not to cry. You were stuck here until someone could rescue you. 

Pushing the minor breakdown aside, you thought about water, it was important. Scanning the island, there seemed to be a small waterfall and tiny lagoon at the bottom. Since the rain, the waterfall was running pretty fiercely. You mapped out a path back to the beach which would detour past the waterfall.

By the time you reached the beach, your arms were exhausted with the weight of the now filled water bottles. He was awake and briskly brushing his reddened cheeks with his sleeves, turning his back to you. Sympathising with the man who probably thought you died, fell overboard or abandoned him.

You pulled out the metal pot from the plane and began boiling the water, in an attempt to kill any bacteria in it. The tide was going out. you knew you should be thinking about food as the next priority, but you wanted to sleep. Being primarily awake for a few days was taking its toll.

It took everything in you to get yourself to move and get to work. Taking large rocks, you carried them into the water until you were knee-deep. You were building a V- shaped wall, so when the tide came in, it brought with it fish and when the tide went out, they would be trapped. 

Pouring the now cooled water into the bottles, you started thinking about your plan. First, you thought about short-term needs, in case you were rescued soon, and then long-term needs, in the event you weren’t rescued for months or perhaps years. You paused, forcing yourself to think and accept the fact that there was a chance you would never be rescued.

The Asian man had gotten up and looked around hopefully. Handing him a now clean and sterile bottle of water, you frowned looking around with him. "There is no one here." He didn't say a word, staring at you while drinking slowly.

You huffed, trying to figure out how you two could survive on an island. He watched you fuss around trying to make a shelter out of sticks but it collapsed everytime. 

“Just no,” he muttered. You tried not to openly sneer at him. Grabbing the raft, you dragged it across the sand. As the raft was built for a large group, it seemed all you were doing was digging your feet into the sand. But little by little it was dragged up the beach thanks to the tide. It took some convincing but you had gotten help from the young man. The two of you madly struggling to lift the inflatable slide to a tilt against a tree. It was still inflated so you hoped you could use it for something else if needed.

Before the tide came in that evening, you ran out to the water. Your hopes were crushed when you found no fish and saw that the wall had broken. Carrying more large rocks into the water and making the V bigger and stronger, things weren't looking great, but you were trying to do your best. Cold from splashing around in the water, you went back to the shelter, but the fire had gone out by this point. 

Looking at the young man, you let out an exasperated sigh. Did he not care for his life or yours? Contemplating while gathering more wood, you realized that you had been doing all the work, while he was just lazing around. “We need more wood, come help,” you gestured for the young man to follow, but he sneered at the thought and leaned away from you.

“I just lay uh here and wait to…” he thought over his words, slowly forming an English sentence “die or be rescue,” he mumbled. You were too exhausted to argue. It could wait until tomorrow, and you would both freeze tonight. Maybe then he would understand the importance of working together towards a goal.

You felt absolutely disgusting. hearing the loud patter of rain, you walked down the length of the shelter. On one side was the raft, and on the other was the luggage, built into a wall. You took out some clean clothes and stepped into the rain. Peeling off your seawater and sweat drenched clothes, you stood in the dark and tried washing your body with a tiny travel soap you had found in a bag. 

You scrubbed your body of sweat and turned back to the shelter. Grabbing your towel, and wrapping it around your body, you stepped inside. He was laying on the makeshift bed you had prepared. He looked over, and when he saw you just in a towel, he rolled away. It was embarrassing, you who loved privacy and comfort were showering all exposed in the rain and getting changed in the same vicinity as a stranger. That night, he took the only dry blanket, so you laid there with wet hair and damp skin, shivering. 

You were thankful for the sun rising, and it took a few minutes for you to thaw enough to move, but when you did, you deemed it time for him to do some work. The two of you gathered sticks and leaves. He barely helped, and when he got back, he laid back down and fell asleep in the shelter.

Building a fire, with the wood, took some time as it had rained the night before. The leaves helped fuel the flames. The fire didn't have to be amazing, you just needed it for warmth. You also hoped some rescue teams might even see the faint smoke.

At the sound of your stomach calling for sustenance you got up and went to check the rock wall you made and found a fish swimming in the shallow water. You grinned, carrying it back making sure to stoke the fire. You were doing your absolute best with the emergency kit knife.

You must have looked pitiful, as your companion took over, filleting the fish with ease, and he even cooked it. The two of you had fish for breakfast and you felt satiated. You took some of the supplies and got ready to set out for food and fresh water. He was dressed and trying to follow you, so you let him carry some of the empty bottles.

Except he wasn't cut out for endurance, he got winded quickly. It reminded you of the time you passed out during a school marathon. Yet you made the best of the situation that you could, walking slowly until you came across some sort of fruit that the birds were eating.

You took a couple of pieces of rotten fruit and then carefully dug up the small plant and began carrying it back. He followed you back. You placed the plant down. Using your hands you tried to shift the dirt until you had a decent hole where you could plant the little fruit tree. Watering it with some of the water you had collected from the lagoon, internally wishing the plant would flourish. It was hard pouring the fresh water on the plant but you had to if you wanted food.

You mapped out an area and put sticks in the ground in a box-shape, in hopes of starting a garden of any edible plants found throughout the island.

You took the old fruit you collected off the ground, put it around the bottom of the tree, and gave a small hopeful sigh. “Hopefully it will break down in the soil and feed the plant. Our fate is in your hands little plant”

You spent another night sleeping in the makeshift shelter and had to decide on what to do, so you sat up and turned to the young man.

"Hey, are you awake?" He sat up, his eyes narrow, "what do we build? Shelter? or a garden for food?"

He blinked before choosing "Shelter?” you giggled at his confusion, not trying to be rude. He knew more English than you knew Korean and that was definitely a feat.

“A home”

“Home, food later" he shrugged

It rained heavier, bringing with it a sense of sadness. There was no one waiting for you, no one looking for you. The tears began falling and you tried to stifle the sounds. He was still and you hoped he didn’t hear the breakdown. You hoped he was sound asleep as this seemed to be his skill. You were sadly mistaken; he wasn’t asleep. He moved and draped a blanket over you. He only drifted off when you exhausted yourself from crying.

Waking up with your back pressed to his back, the two of you had shared a few airplane blankets. Your body was aching, from sleeping on the ground. It was time to build the shelter both of you had been discussing. You needed someplace safe from the elements and a place with some sort of makeshift bed. Sand felt so soft, but was uncomfortable to sleep on.

Standing in the morning breeze, you began thinking: “How does one even build a house?” If people can make houses with only the land, then so could you. You had no excuse.if it didn’t work, you could try again until you figured it out. You knew there should be some sort of foundation. You could build between two trees, or with a big pillar in the middle, or four walls like a traditional home. Whatever you were going to do, you needed the materials, namely wood, but it’s not like you could just rip a tree out of the ground with your bare hands. You needed tools. Unfortunately, this island didn’t have a hardware store. This wasn’t like minecraft; you couldn’t just create perfect tools from nothing. Or, could you?

You got to work trying to make some sort of mock Stone Age axe. It gave you blisters, but you had successfully chopped a single tree down. Getting the hang of chopping the trees with your primitive tool, you had four trees ready on the seventh day. You dug holes in the sand, but it wasn’t holding the trunks at all. They kept toppling over. He told you it wouldn’t work, and you only huffed in response. 

You would have to dig, until you found harder ground. This took another week, but you had four tree trunks in the ground in a modest square. You had started feeling dizzy while working, and your head felt clouded. It had been raining ever since you arrived, every night and lightly throughout the day, you didn’t think you had felt warm in a few days.

While making a wall frame out of trees, you started to feel dizzy again. You tied together the thin logs with multiple vines, and you hoped they would stay. The more you worked, the more your hands got torn up. 

You were tying the last of the frame, when you felt your body grow heavy. You were so tired. You thought you would die by the hands of the lazy man. With that, all other thoughts left you as the darkness crept in. 

The shelter was warm. There was a fire, and the blankets were wrapped around you, keeping you warm. Beside you was a bottle of water and a packet of painkillers. “Fever,” he sighed, “all work makes you uh… quick death?”

“Well, at least I am doing something. I have kept you alive, in the plane, in the water and now. I have done everything and what have you done other than act arrogant and lazy?” You said, “You haven’t even told me your name. We are stranded on an island. Maybe we will be rescued tomorrow, and it will be all in vain but what if it’s not tomorrow? What if it's months or a year from now?”

“What if never safe?” He argued, not looking at you.

“The point is, I don’t want to die in my twenties. I don’t want to die in general. I had dreams, to get married, have a family and be a loving wife. I was working a stupid office job, and I loved it. I won’t give up that dream. I will live with the hope that one day we will be rescued, and I will keep us alive goddamn it.”

“You don’t need to worry about me.” He gave a dry laugh, “I have no care. I was not… supposed be on the plane.”

“I need you alive. I can’t do this on my own. If-” You took a deep breath, “If you die, I might do something stupid. I can’t live an undetermined number of days on my own”

He went quiet. 

“Think about someone else for a change, it’s not all about you, Mister Asshole.”

“Yoongi,” he mumbled

“What?” You asked, too tired to be mad.

“My name is Yoongi.” He left the shelter, and you were left sobbing in the dark.

You woke up to Yoongi cooking fish on the fire; you were not expecting it. He hadn’t really done anything to help you. He mostly sat around, but the two of you ate together before you got to work. It was after a few hours you noticed Yoongi was gone again. It disheartened you that he was off doing whatever again, while you were working. You were completely exasperated by the young man, he maddened you, always on your mind. He was hot and mysterious and you hate that you couldn’t stop thinking about him because he acted nice once.

You began opening the suitcases hoping you wouldn’t offend anyone by going through personal belongings of the deceased. Clothes in all different sizes mens and womens, all different styles and one suitcase broke you, filled with tiny onesies and cloth diapers, dummies and ointments and medicines for a tiny baby. A pretty purple rattle with a cute butterfly on the handle.

You slammed the suitcase shut and pushed it across the sand to look at another day but for now you needed to step aside, the wound was too fresh. These were real people who died and yet why did you two survive, the most unlikely pairing with the worst odds and yet you survived when countless innocent lives were lost. It wasn’t fair.

A few days had passed, and you were trying to create something sturdy enough to withstand wind and rain with a roof and walls. You had plenty of resources, but you had to pick the right ones that would last. 

You thought about it and decided to use the raft to line the inside of the house in the tarp-like material. It was super long, so you could do the roof and the four walls and still have the whole underside left over. You would weave leaves and sticks together to make them sturdier and layer them on the outside. 

Putting your plan to action seemed easy yet tedious. You collected long palm leaves, removed the spines, and weaved the leaves tightly together, and laid them on the floor. The more you weaved, the faster you got. Painstakingly working every day, you rejoiced when all four walls, roof, and floor were finished and stable.

While you were doing all this, Yoongi was nowhere to be seen. He returned at night, as he always did. He looked unbothered by all the work you had accomplished that day. You finished up, and the two of you ate and went to bed, which was just a collection of woven leaf mats covered in some of the leftover tarp from the raft.

You had moved the items from the shelter into the new house area. The two of you sat on the remaining raft fabric. “I made a bed out of leaf mats and covered it in the leftover material.” 

Yoongi seemed impressed looking around, “잘 했어.”

“Jal haess-eo?” you repeated the sounds “What does that mean?”

“Uh… good work” He took your hands and pulled out a small succulent leave from his pocket snapping it and squeezing out the liquid inside. Applying it to the cuts and scratches on your hands gently. You noticed his hands were rough too, for he had cuts and blisters littering the his palms as well. 

“Where did you find aloe vera?” you asked curiously. What had he been doing?

“Near the…” he made an action with his hand “폭포”

“The what?” You laughed, and he cracked a slight smile.

“Water shaaaa!” he made the sound and gesture of water falling. You laughed hysterically. He was so cute, when you got to know him.

“Waterfall?” you prompted, checking that was what he had meant.

“Ah waterfall!” he nodded, “Near the waterfall”

“What did you call it?” you said. You were genuinely interested. He had been trying his best to communicate with you in your language, so maybe you could learn some of his to ease the burden “Pog-o”

“폭포” he corrected. 

“Pogpo” You smiled at him. he seemed a little happy that you were giving his language a try. “How do you say good night?”

“안녕히 주무세요” he said and you blinked shocked, so he grinned,speaking slower in syllables “Ann-yeong-hi ju-mu-se-yo.”

“Annyeonghi,” you repeated. He seemed eager to teach you more, so you stayed up as long as you could, learning Korean phrases until you both fell asleep.

[Part 2/2] coming soon...

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[unrestedjade]

Baseless Ferengi headcanons no one asked for and that get increasingly queer-navel-gazing and self indulgent because the horrible space goblins have consumed my brain:

- Mobile ears, because if hearing is so well developed and important to them they should be able to aim those big stupid radar dishes. Also because then they can emote with them and that's cute. THE AESTHETIC IS PARAMOUNT.

- Since they canonically sharpen their teeth with chew sticks and sharpeners, their teeth must grow continuously. So I submit: subcultures that let certain teeth grow out as a fashion/political statement. Ferengi punks and anarchists with 5" tusks. Ferengi with all their teeth filed flat (mom and dad HATE it).

- Corollary to the above, most of their teeth are crooked. At the least, they don't share our fetish for straight teeth. What if their teeth are deciduous, and there's no point in trying to force them into perfect alignment, since they'll just fall out and get replaced? So like, sharks but their teeth can also grow longer with no limit. WHAT HAST EVOLUTION WROUGHT ON FERENGINAR :V

- Parents nagging their kids to sharpen their teeth "or they'll grow up into your brain and you'll die :)"

- Personal space? Don't know her.

Okay I need a cut because there's too many now. WHOLE SOCIETY OF GAY HOMOPHOBIC UNCLES AND AUNTS GO I HAVE A PROBLEM

- I can't remember who on here put forth the idea of them having retractable claws but Yes. :3

- Pushing back against the worst canon episode a bit but: relative ear size being the only obvious sexually dimorphic trait, and even that having enough of a gray area that the only way to be 100% sure you're talking to a male or female Ferengi is if you do a blood test. Unless they're intersex! *shrug emoji*

- This is why they're so fanatical about gender conformity and their Victorian "separate spheres" attitude to men and women's roles. Capitalist patriarchy is fragile! And as artificial to Ferengi as it ever was to Humans! (self-indulgenceeeee about gender shiiiiit)

- You know how with domesticated rabbits, the rabbit getting groomed and paid attention to is the boss? Yeah. Go ahead and paint your bestie's nails, just don't be surprised if she cops a little bit of an attitude with you from then on.

- Their fight/flight/freeze/fawn instincts skew heavily toward the last three, and what a lot of other species read as annoying sucking up is the Ferengi in question feeling anxious and unsafe. Especially if they don't feel integrated into the group. Even being at the bottom of the pecking order is better than not being in the flock at all.

- If they DO opt for fight, it's ugly and typically their last resort. Bites or scratches will get infected without intervention-- microbes that their immune system can handle could cause big trouble for aliens. You might wanna check for full or partial teeth that break off and get lodged in the wound, too.

- Too many of these are tooth related but I don't care. :B More teeth stuff: you know what else has teeth that grow constantly? Puffer fish. Likewise, Ferengi can chew up mollusk shells as easy as potato chips, and they need the minerals for their teeth. (Imagine grandpa Sisko offering Nog a crayfish for the first time and watching as he just...pops the whole damn thing in his mouth and crunches away...)

- Their staple foods seem to be grubs and other arthropods, high in protein and fat. I've unilaterally decided their cuisine also involves a lot of edible fungi, ferns, plant shoots and seeds. Gotta get those vitamins. Overall flavor profile leaning toward umami, vegetal, and fresh herbs, and pretty mild (or "delicate" if you wanna be snooty about it, which a Ferengi probably would let's be real).

- Not much sugary food. I'm basing this solely on Quark's aversion to root beer as "cloying". Which could definitely just be his personal preference, but most of the people I hear hating on root beer cite the actual sassafras/sarsaparilla flavor (saying it tastes like medicine) not the sweetness. Nog might be the weirdo outlier for being able to enjoy it.

- Their home planet isn't bright and sunny, so their eyes are better at discerning shades of gray in low light conditions, with relatively weak color vision. Which could explain why they dress Like That.

- Conversely, human music has a reputation for stinking on ice because a lot of it is juuuuust lightly dissonant or out of tune because we can't pick up flaws that small. Ferengi can, and it drives them up the *wall*.

- Music? So many different kinds. Traditionally, maybe lots of percussion and winds, and water as a common component of many instruments to alter pitch or tone. Polyphony out the ass. Some of the modern stuff is an impenetrable wall of sound if you're not a species with a lot of brain real estate devoted to processing sounds. Pick out one melody to follow at a time.

- Yes, back to teeth again I'm sorry. It's a sickness. At some point in their history, pre-chewing food was just something you did for your baby or great grandma as a matter of necessity. Possibly your baby gets an important boost to their immune system and gut biome from your spit. At some point takes on a more formal intimacy aspect and gradually drifted from something all adults and older kids do to something only women do. Your husband and older kids have perfectly functional teeth, but you love them, right? =_= (Think old memes about husbands being useless in the kitchen if little wifey isn't there to cook, but even more ridiculous. Ishka was right about everything but especially this. Thank you for making your family chew their own food, Ishka. Not all heroes wear capes. Or anything!)

- How did they get started on the whole men: clothed vs women: unclothed nonsense? My equally stupid idea: men just get cold easier. Those huge ears dissipate a ton of body heat. Cue Ferengi cliches like "jeez, we could be standing on the surface of the sun and my husband would put on another layer." At some point, again, this got codified and pushed to ridiculous extremes in the name of controlling women and keeping everyone in their assigned box, to the point that women just have to shiver if they really are too cold and men have to pass out from heat stroke if the alternative is going shirtless, because That Would Be Inappropriate.

- Marriages default to five years, but they're also the only avenue for women to have their own household or any stability. Plus their religion places no emphasis on purity save for pure adherence to the free market and the RoA. So, curveball to the rest of their patriarchal bullshit: female virginity isn't a concern in the least. Bring it up and they'll rightly side-eye you.

- Family law is absolutely bonkers and lawyers that specialize in it make BANK. I feel like custody would default to the father usually but oh wait, the maternal grandfather has a legal stake in this, too, and your next father-in-law is asking HOW many kids are you dragging into my daughter's house, etc etc. Growing up with a full sibling is way rarer than growing up with half or stepsiblings, since it usually takes both men and women two or three tries to find someone they vibe with. (Not love, unless you're super cringe.)

- A misogynistic society is a homophobic society. Imo those flavors of shittiness just come in pairs. Homosexual behaviors are fine within certain parameters (aka "always have sex with the boss") but not on your own terms. To add spice, bisexuality is their most common mode (because I'm bi and these are my hcs for my fics I'm not writing, so there), but capitalism demands fresh grist for the mill so you better get het-married and pop out some kids you lowly peons. You have a choice so make the proper one. :)

- Corollary to the above, that doesn't keep all kinds of illicit "we're just friends with quid-pro-quo benefits for realsies" affairs of every stripe and every gender from going on everywhere. Many Ferengi have a lightbulb moment somewhere in early adulthood when they figure out their dad's business partner or the "auntie" who visited their mom every month had a little more going on.

- Plus there's way more gender non-conformity and varying degrees of trans-ing than the powers that be have a handle on. Pel isn't unique, even if most would have to somehow make it out into space to be able to thrive.

Damn a lot of these are just my personal bugbears plus THE GILDED AGE BUT WITH HAIRLESS SPACE RODENTS ain't they

- Women can't earn profit, okay. But lending or "lending" things to each other isn't commerce, riiiiiiight? To be assigned female is to master navigating a vast, dizzying barter/gift economy. Smart boys and men leverage this, too, and there are splinter sects that view this as the purest expression of the Great Material Continuum.

- Of course plenty of women make profit anyway, and just do their bast to dodge the FCA. The tough thing about insisting on using latinum as currency is that cash can be so hard to track, you know?

- Because of the RoA, guys are discouraged from doing favors or giving gifts without setting clear expectation of getting some return on investment. This can twist into an expression of friendship (and of course women do it too), and the ledger will keep cycling between debit and credit among friends for decades. A common mistake aliens make is to tell them recompense isn't needed without explaining why, or return their favor or present with something that zeroes out the debt. The Ferengi will assume you want to break off the friendship. (I cribbed this from dim memories of an African studies course I took in 2007 and whose textbook I know I still have but I can't frigging find it...)

- Flirting, they do a lot of it for a lot of reasons. Roddenberry made it clear that they're just straight up pretty horny, but there's no reason it can't pull double duty for building alliances with other people, smoothing over feuds or disagreements, or cementing friendships. Ferengi who are ace and/or sex-repulsed are possibly viewed similar to the way we'd view someone who's "not a hugger/not big on touching" and if they flirt just don't get offended if it doesn't go any further; aro Ferengi don't garner much comment aside from an occasional "wow how badass, never falling in love with anyone."

- where to even start on making sense of the Blessed Exchequer??? Like seriously, what is this literal prosperity gospel insanity, I need to force myself to re-read Rand and like, some Milton Friedman for this shit. Help.

- fuck I'm probably going to actually do that, RIP me...

[tl-notes]

Kobayashi’s Maid Dragon S2 Episode 9 Notes

...設立から大分地盤が固まってきており、少しずつだが、業態は改善されている。

One thing to note here is that Kobayashi(‘s narration) isn’t saying the company has already made solid improvements, it’s that the company has finally established itself somewhat (as it was only founded relatively recently, and typically new companies are especially busy while trying to get off the ground) and now is starting to make improvements.

Similarly in the second sentence, it’s not “was” slow going, it’s “is still” slow going, and the working conditions “are” improving, not “have improved.”

This is がんば ganba, short of course for がんばって ganbatte, which I’m sure most of you are familiar with: the (in)famous “do your best.”

I only mention it because I like this shortened version of it. Ganba!

This is a fun little idiom(?)/saying: 鼻で笑う hana de warau (conjugated as hana de warawareta), lit. to laugh using the nose. It’s used to describe laughing at someone you’re looking down on for whatever reason (not necessarily in a super serious way, could just be a friend being dumb etc.; in this case it’s Elma’s being naive).

Typically it refers to like a “heh-but-through-the-nose” kind of “laugh,” but as you can see in this scene (where clearly Kobayashi is laughing with the mouth, even starting with “pff” lips) it works idiomatically even if the laughing isn’t only through the nose.

You may have heard that Japan is/was a “lifetime employment” country, where typically people would get hired right out of school and stay at that company until retirement. While that’s much less true today than it was even a couple of decades ago (and has become kind of controversial in ways), it’s still much more common of a practice than in say the US.

One result of this is that there’s a much bigger distinction placed between hiring people in spring as part of the annual graduation rush (the Japanese school year ends in March), and mid-career hiring. Typically you can’t participate in the fresh grad hiring if you aren’t one, even if you’re new to the field in question. 

For larger employers (i.e. 5k+ employees), roughly two-thirds of all hirings come from fresh grads, and only small employers (<300 employees) hire more mid-careerists than people directly out of school.

Of course, this split tends to apply mostly to “standard” full time jobs, not so much part time, and is not necessarily a thing in every industry/at every company.

Just as a minor point of clarity, this “organized text” in Elma’s document refers to the phrase まとめられた文章 matomerareta bunshou. In a literal sense, matomerareta can mean organized/consolidated etc., and bunshou text/passages, but meaning-wise it’s more like “writing that gets its point across clearly/cleanly.” 

This is a pretty big compliment and a very useful skill to have in organizations like this, as writing such that people can quickly and easily understand exactly what you’re trying to say often saves a ton of time and frustration.

我々はエルマの気迫に押されるがままにその書類を読み始めた。

Another minor point, but where the English could imply that they were overwhelmed by Elma’s intensity through the act of reading her report, the Japanese implies more that they started reading it because of how intense Elma was being. 

It doesn’t really make much of a difference either way, but it stuck out a little for me. 

To justify mentioning it, I guess I’ll explain the grammar point Kobayashi uses: されるがままに sareru ga mama ni. Sareru is a generic verb/verb conjugation for having something done to you (technically here it’s 押される, to be “pushed/pressed/pressured”), and mama refers to a state, condition, or “way” (like “do it this way”).

Put together, the whole phrase is used to indicate “you” do/did something that someone else wants you to, without (meaningful) opposition. (Something similar in raw meaning but with a very different connotation would be “going with the flow.”)

If a friend says “hey let’s go do something,” and next thing you know you’re out bowling despite preferring to stay at home, this is you.

You can stick the mama ni to various other things as well to come up with a similar idea, but without the sareru the nuance may end up different. 

The word for clairvoyance here is 千里眼 senrigan, lit. “eye(s) [that can see] a thousand li”, li being a Chinese unit of measurement for length (shorter than a mile, but for general purposes “eyes that see a thousand miles” is basically the gist).

Despite the perhaps physical-sounding nature of the term, it does actually describe the same power as “clairvoyance” in English: being able to perceive things outside your actual range of vision, including potentially into people’s hearts and minds etc.

Hence why it’s a thousand screen display, when she updates it with tech knowledge:

“Tainted by work” here is 職業病 shokugyou-byou, lit. an occupational disease. The “proper” definition is a disease one gets from working in a particular job, such as black lung for coal miners or even posture-related health issues for desk workers. 

Additionally, it’s used colloquially to refer to noticeable habits or quirks that people in a certain profession pick up, like a baker always waking up super early or a programmer using programming lingo out of context in normal conversation. The latter being especially noticeable in Japanese, as a lot of such terms are English in origin.

“Shocking” here is a fun word: ドン引き don-biki. “Don” here is added just for emphasis; the main meaning revolves around 引き hiki/biki, from the verb 引く hiku, meaning to pull. 

The idea is that someone does/says something that you recoil from. Maybe it’s gross (“I only shower once a week”), maybe it’s mean (“They didn’t smile enough so I didn’t leave a tip.”), maybe it’s creepy (“I sent like 30 texts yesterday but still no reply.”), just anything that has you feeling like you might want to create some distance because... phew. 

It’s kind of similar to the current use of “cringe” as an adjective/noun, though with less of an internet-slang feel* to it, and generally used more as something the speaker is doing rather than describing whatever/whoever is being cringe. 

(*I think it started being used popularly in this way in the early-to-mid 90s, with the “don”biki variant specifically popping up around 2005.)

A “Premium Friday” is the last Friday of the month, where you get to leave work at 3 pm. It is largely theoretical. 

The idea was created by the Japanese government as a way to reduce working hours and encourage domestic spending (boost demand), but it has not been implemented by all that many employers, and especially not many smaller employers. There isn’t, after all, any mandate or government-provided incentive for doing so.

Evidence from the places that did implement it suggests it is actually good for the economy, but good luck convincing bosses to give extra paid time off.

“Last Friday of the month” was chosen because most people get paid on the 25th each month (Japan tends to pay monthly instead of every two weeks), so it would usually be right after payday, when people are more willing to get spendy.

Kobayashi saying eight hours here reminded me of a “fun” fact: the typical Japanese work day is eight hours plus a one hour break. Plus a one hour break, not with. So a typical work day is actually nine hours. Most commonly 8 to 5 or 9 to 6. Not many “nine-to-fives” here.

The characters for Joui are 上井, which usually read as Kamii or Uwai. It’s “Joui” because that means, when written as 上位, “superior.” As in “a superior life-form.” Like a dragon, say.

でも、ゆっくりやる事業改善案を見せてもらえたじゃない？

This one is actually kind of a critical mistake. In the English it sounds like she’s talking about the improvement proposal that Elma made and that the boss looked at. In the Japanese though, she’s talking about a different plan, one the boss showed them*, that is similar in idea but is going to take longer to be fully implemented**. So we’re being told that while Elma didn’t get what she wanted as fast as she wanted it, it is still basically going through at a slower pace.

*In ”見せてもらえた misete moraeta,” the misete vs mite means they were the ones who got shown something, rather than the ones who got someone to look at their stuff. 

**Which you can tell from the ゆっくりやる yukkuri yaru, where yaru is basically “do” and yukkuri means (in this case) at an unhurried pace.

(Re previous note: Hence why she says “immediately” here.)

“Black (ブラック)” and “white (ホワイト)” in the context of Japanese employers refers to how well employees are treated: a company with good benefits/pay, reasonable levels of overtime, and feels safe to work at is “white,” while a company that has excessive overtime, often pays poorly, breaks labor laws, and allows harassment to fester is “black.” 

While “white company” was created simply in contrast to the term “black company,” the latter finds its origins in front businesses for organized crime, which were called “black” in the sense of “illegal” (similar to “black market” or something being in a “grey area”). Given the international reputation of Japanese work life, you can imagine that “black company” as a term sees much more use.

There’s been some discussion about maybe replacing it due to the racial implications (especially since it uses the English word “black”), but while typically English translations drop the color for that reason (e.g. ブラック企業大賞, an “award” given to Japan’s worst employer each year, is officially “Most Evil Corporation of the Year Award” in English), it hasn’t really penetrated to the mainstream at this point.

The rice there is in a 飯盒 hangou, a metal container that looks… like that, and is the stereotypical item of choice for cooking rice while camping. It has its origins in the mess kits used by the military, but these days they’re primarily marketed as portable rice cookers for camping use. 

You can get round ones too, but the bean shape is very popular.

“Settings” here is 設定 settei, lit. exactly that, “setting(s).” E.g. if you open a computer program and look at the settings menu, it’ll be settei in the Japanese language settings (settei). 

I bring it up here because there’s a bit of a difference in how it gets used colloquially like this. In English, the “setting” for a story typically refers to where and when it’s set. In Japanese, “setting” in that sense is usually 舞台 butai. But settei is still used when talking about fiction, just in a different, more expansive way.

Often in these cases settei is used to refer to the various conceits that provide the context in which the story takes place. In this show, for example, one such “setting” is that dragons are real: another is that magic exists. It comes up especially often in fantasy/sci-fi type stuff where there are major distinctions between that universe and the real world—not that stories in a real-world setting don’t have settei of their own, but they often are lumped into descriptions of the plot in that case (”a dragon comes to live with an office worker in her apartment”).

It also refers to the “settings” of characters, like name or age, and things like “they run a bakery that’s going out of business and are trying to save it.” Basically all the details you’d have in a character profile.

It also gets used in conversation to refer to pretend things or (basically) lies: like here, where Saikawa thinks Shouta is playing pretend with his ley-lines talk, or e.g. if someone is trying to tell you some outlandish story (“my uncle works at Nintendo…” or someone asking for love life advice for “their friend”) and you’re just like “Okay so that’s the settei here, I see.”

Not really a big deal, but Elma’s line here in Japanese implies she won’t let Tohru call her that anymore (see her もう mou). Tohru’s response is also more of a “I haven’t been?”, since of course she wasn’t aware of Elma’s-mental-image-Tohru tormenting Elma in the previous scene:

The word for “full of” in the title here is ざんまい zanmai (a suffix form of 三昧 sanmai), usually meaning that there’s a whole lot of [whatever] to immerse oneself in. I mostly bring it up because there’s a famous restaurant chain called Sushi Zanmai that specializes in, obviously, sushi.

And you know, Elma is a water dragon that looks kinda like an eel… I’m just sayin’…

Not really a translation note, but wild that Elma didn’t even touch her parfait. (Not so wild that Fafnir finished his so quickly.) Serious business ahead...

“Genuinely” here is 素直に sunao ni, where the “ni” is used like “-ly” to make sunao work as an adverb. Sunao itself is an interesting word that falls into that category of “simple concept that is often hellish to translate.”

For some context, the first character, 素, is also used in the word 素顔 sugao, which is a face without makeup and 素材 sozai, basically raw ingredients/materials. The second, 直, is used in words like 直線 chokusen, a straight line, or 正直 shoujiki, honest.

Put them together, and you’ve got a word with connotations of directness and being unadorned. The original definition of the word tends toward “simple, natural” in the sense of e.g. life growing up on a rural farm. 

The more common use for it these days is to describe people and their actions. Positively, it can mean something similar to a person being happy to help, or kind of like the opposite of conniving; open, frank, genuine. Less positively, it can mean someone is too trusting and easy to trick into doing things OR someone who is “too honest” and says hurtful things. 

(If it helps: tsundere characters are often described as explicitly not sunao.)

In this case, the idea is that Tohru accepted the invitation easily as-is, without putting any conditions on it, or doing any “ugh, what a pain, do I have to, jeez” rigamarole—she just accepted. Another way you could put it in this case might be “It’s even more unusual for Tohru to accept an invitation like this without a fuss.”

Just to point out the hand on head thing again.

Also just to point out that this is another example of otsukare, as a reminder of how ubiquitous that word is.

And it makes a good place to end on: thanks for reading!

[coldmilkcreamery]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟

~ 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 ~

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: xiao dejun x male reader 💋

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2965

𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: following a heart-wrenching break up with xiaojun, you leave the country—and reunite with him 8 years later at the grand opening of a friend's restaurant.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴/𝘀: smut hahah lmao

𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝗯𝘆 ⭐️

𝗮/𝗻: this might be my favorite (and longest 😅😅) story out of all the ones i’ve written, like idk if it’s because xiaojun’s my bias in wayv but i really enjoyed writing it and am really proud of how it turned out hahaha, i put my blood sweat and tears into this story so i hope you guys enjoy 🥺🥺and happy valentines to you all and hbd to who is also my first bias, jaehyun haha have a great day and a great valentines <3

> 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 <

-

Outside, the sun has dipped below the horizon and behind wisps of clouds and falling snow, the sky has turned dark. Compounds of snow and bits of ice lie on the streets and dress stoplights as you wait at the entrance of a newly opened restaurant in town.

A miniature landscape greets you at the entrance. Artificial river water ricochets off of artificial rocks, onto the chiseled marble paths that you step over on your way to the dining area.

You make glances around the restaurant. Crowds of people are cobbled together, flowing like river water around tables and floral displays. Looking around, a familiar face emerges from the congested crowd.

“You seem to have gotten quite popular.” You tap on the hem of Doyoung’s blazer, looking around the crowded facade of the restaurant.

“You made it!” Doyoung says. Like a jack-in-the-box, he springs out of the crowd, jumping onto you and engulfing you in a tight embrace.

“I am very much here.” You reply, muffled by the confines of his arms.

“My god, I haven’t seen you in years!” He squeals, tightening his grip around your torso. “You’ve aged. A lot.” He snickers, crimping his face into a faux scowl.

“You're not looking any younger yourself.” You spit back with squinted eyes.

“Still bitchy as ever.” Doyoung pats your head, lips forming a snarky grin. “Come in.”

“How did you get here so early? Weren’t you set to fly in about a week later from now?” He eagerly questions, excitement very much visible through his puffing chest and eye-squinting smile.

“Simple, I booked an earlier flight.”

“And lost my first class seat.” You seethe, holding up your economy class boarding pass.

“You’re the best.” Doyoung giggles.

“I really am.” You gripe, narrowing your eyes. “New York is one far place.”

“You’re one to hold grudges aren’t you.” He pats your back with one hand, prying the boarding pass from your finger’s grasp with the other before tossing it into a nearby trash bin.

“Follow me.” Doyoung grabs your wrist and he escorts you into one of the private rooms, briefly passing by the reception desk. “This is Karina, one of my staff.”

“Hi!” She waves.

“Where are we going?” You question as he pulls you towards the first sliding door from the right of the reception desk.

“Those rooms over there are the rooms for the VIP reservations.” Karina says.

“VIP?” You ask, shooting them an amused expression.

“I have a heart my guy, I didn’t cost you your business class upgrade for nothing.” He ruffles your hair.

“First class.” You scornfully correct Doyoung, squinting your eyes at him, pushing his hands off of your head.

“Have a seat.” He reaches his palm out to point to the cushions resting on the floor and the recessed floor in front of it.

You slip your legs into the recession, eyeing a few floral vases and intricately patterned stems of miniature cherry blossom trees.

“Seems like you really went all out on decors.” You slip your phone out of the pocket at the sides of your chinos that are in the light’s path, which shine olive green against the moonlight. “Selfie?”

“My dining area should look just as good as my food tastes.” Doyoung obnoxiously chuckles before smiling into your camera.

“1, 2, 3.” You say in unison.

“Aren’t those at least a hundred dollars each?” You raise a brow at him, resting your phone beside your plate after a click sounds from it. “Is that not expensive for you?”

“Not if they look this good.” Doyoung winks.

“Good lord.”

“Oh, uhh, by the way.” He whispers, sounding much more subdued than he had been the minutes before, his voice now softer than swinging doors and the sprinting servers.

“What is it?”

“I’ve told you the restaurant is offering discounts if—” He pauses intermittently in between words.

“For the last time, I did not and will not be bringing a date.” You groan, cutting him off, well aware of what you were going to hear next.

Doyoung breathes out a shaky sigh. He parades a look of pity, brows furrowed and head tilted at an angle with a frown.

“Hyung.” You slur your words. “I’m fine.”

“And hey it’s 2021, being single is the trend.” You object.

“I’m just looking out for you.”

“I know you are.” You try to reassure him with a smile. “But if you don’t mind, I want to continue eating the dinner that my friend prepared for me because he cost me a 12 hour business class flight.”

“Didn’t you say first class?”

“Either way, I had to sleep sitting down because of you.” You scoff.

“Alright, I’m going to check up on the other tables.” Doyoung nods, pressing his lips into a toothless smile. “Let’s catch up more over coffee after we close?”

“Sure.” You hum as he turns his back to tend to more customers. Going seat to seat, he greets them with a smile, shaking hands with the occasional occupant.

You rub your temples and look down slightly, resting your chin on the collar of the honey brown crew neck wrapped around your torso. The loosely tucked out hems of your denim shirt hang under it, fluttering in the air.

Behind the strands of hair being blown into your eyes from the air conditioning, your eyelids drop. You’re tired, exhausted, fatigued and everything else you can think of. Conversations around you seem to morph into buzzes of static.

Eyelids your field of vision as your upper body rests on the table top. Footsteps tap against the floor adding to the sound of clinking cutlery, sizzling meats and conversations muffled by the sleeves of your sweater.

A man waves in front of the reception desk as he struts into the restaurant. “Excuse me.”

“Good evening sir.” Karina greets, with a smile. “How may I help you?”

“I have a reservation.”

“May I have your name please.” Karina looks down on a monitor, tapping on a keyboard with one hand, brushing hair behind the shoulders of her blazer with the other.

“Xiao Dejun.”

“Ahh Mr. Xiao, you have a VIP reservation am I right?” She beams, looking back up at the man who briskly nods back.

“Your seat is in the first room to my right.” Karina reaches her palm out and points to the door.

Xiaojun utters a soft ‘thank you’ and looks over his shoulder to give Karina a small wave as he walks towards the room.

A restaurant attendant opens the door for him. Inside, it slides open, rustling like paper as its bottom grinds against the glistening wooden floor. Producing an exhale, you let your breath get sucked out through the openings of your nostrils and lips.

Behind your forearms, the big tsunami-like waves and tangerine colored koi painted on the door disappear into the wall. You squint your eyes close one last time, sprawling your limbs to stretch, terminating the sleep left in your system.

Your eyes flutter open, catching a man in its path, the figure becomes clearer the wider they open.

“X-Xiaojun.” You quiver in place, saying his name for the first time in eight years.  

“Y-Y/n.” Behind the auburn strands of hair in his face, his gaze meets yours. He timidly waves at you through a nervous smile. “H-hi.”

Was he good looking? Definitely.

Was he a good person? Oh god yes, and your breakup didn’t change your opinion on that.

Though not your first relationship, Xiaojun was definitely your first true love. But as some people say, life just happens. Months after your break up, you left for New York for a job opportunity.

It had been a considerable while since you had last seen or heard from him. Nothing aside from the occasional mention in phone calls with Doyoung and appearance in pictures with your other friends.

But here you were, back in Korea, the commandeer of your late night thoughts, seated beside you at the grand opening of Doyoung’s restaurant almost a decade later.

“It’s been a while.” You sheepishly smile.

“It really has.” Xiaojun agrees, reciprocating the smile. “You look great.”

“Thanks.” You sit up straight. “You do too.”

Outside, Doyoung continues to hop from table to table, tending to customers.

“Here is your order for extra noodles and a pot of tea.” Doyoung smiles at a woman. “Enjoy your meal ma’am.”

“Boss, you told me to inform you of the arrival of someone named Xiao Dejun was it?” Karina calls out for Doyoung, as he carries an emptied tray onto a free tray stand.

“Yes.” Doyoung breathily replies. “What about it?”

“He came just a few minutes ago, I’ve been looking for you to tell you.” She says with heavy and speedy breaths, resting her palms on her knees.

Doyoung’s eyes widen. “Which private room did you tell him to go to?”

“The first one to my right.”

“No-n-no oh no.” Doyoung strings his fingers into his hair.

“What’s the matter?”

“I needed you to tell me because I wanted to ask you to make sure they wouldn’t end up in the same room.” He rambles, vigorously rubbing his temples.

“Why?” Karina blankly questions. “Is there anything between them?”

“Xiaojun is his ex from 8 years ago.”

“Oh no.” She bows her head, covering her face with both of her palms. “Did it end badly or something?”

“You really ask a lot of questions don’t you.” Doyoung snickers. “Well, not exactly.”

“They broke up on good terms actually, the only problem was that it was so obvious that they still loved each other.” He says, sighs ballooning out of his lips.

“Wait,” Karina interrupts. “And yet, they hadn’t gotten back together since then?”

“Y/n left for New York before they could say anything to each other.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not like you knew.” Doyoung sees Karina frown and pats her head. “I just hope they can at least talk.”

And that you did.

Alcohol clouds your minds as you sit beside each other splitting sides at exchanged stories. The sting of the drinks fry the back of your throats and hiccups intermittently shoot up from you, cutting your sentences.

"It’s 12:30 A.M.'' You wheeze, making glances around the pretty much empty room.

"No way." Xiaojun spits out raspily, taking another sip of his cocktail, peering forward to get a glimpse of the watch on your wrist.

“Speaking of which, remember that time, about 11 years ago.” You playfully nudge his shoulder. “It was around this time when we went to get groceries and you attacked someone over a cut of steak.”

“I did not!” Xiaojun manages to speak up amidst the laughter drowning out proper communication from you two.

“Xiaojun, you pushed her so hard that she fell.” Your hand flops onto Xiaojun’s shoulder to prevent yourself from rolling over, letting out a prominent wheeze.

“She pushed me first!” He sternly objects. “Plus, if I didn’t, we wouldn’t have had those amazing fajitas.”

“That was a good early morning snack.” You agree.

“A good date too.” Xiaojun smiles back at you.

“Our first actually.” You add, looking down as a smile creeps into your lips. “That was such a long time ago.”

Which it was.

“Time just flies so fast doesn’t it?” Xiaojun replies as his palm slides up your fingers before settling on the knuckles at the back of your hand.

A rosy flush burns on your cheeks and your eyes go from your linked fingers and eventually trail up to him. You two momentarily lock eyes. He promptly jerks his away, withdrawing his hand from yours.

“S-so, wait, a-are you back here for good?” Xiaojun says.

“I guess so, things are getting pretty crazy over there.” You shrug, shooting him a crooked smile. “And the food’s too greasy, can’t eat any of it.”

“That’s good.” Xiaojun chuckles weakly. “You always hated greasy foods.”

“I’ve missed you.” You look into his eyes again and gently stroke his shoulder before going down to his arm and producing a sharp exhale. “A lot.”

“I-I have too.” He stutters, shivering slightly, his posture stiff under your touch.

“You know, every time I think about it,” You look down, and fiddle with your fingers. “I wondered why you never tried chasing me down the airport the day I left.”

“Y-Y/n.”

Deep down, part of me was actually hoping that you’d come after me and convince me to stay.

“So many times, I’ve wanted to fly out there to just try and pick up where we left off and—” He rambles, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists on his sides.

“What stopped you then?” You mumble. A frown stemming from your lips.

“I-I don’t know.” He voices out softly, with a furrowed expression.

“I do like someone Xiaojun.” You sigh.

“I figured.” Xiaojun stands up from the seat, slipping his shoes on and making his way out of the room.

“They’d be lucky to have you.” Xiaojun chokes on his words, his sentence growing weak.

“It was nice meeting you again.” His voice echoes into the empty room, his words ricocheting off of the walls and the soy sauce stained bowls before coming back to you.

You frantically jump up from the recessed floor. As his fingers cling onto the door’s handle, you grip him by his shoulders as he slides it open. “I never said it wasn’t you.” You call out to him, stopping him in his tracks.

Xiaojun turns his head, looking over his shoulder, slivers of tears in his eyes twinkling against the lights.

“So tell me then,” You whisper huskily, staring back into Xiaojun’s eyes. “Where were we?”

Tonight felt familiar.

The laughs, the fond glances, the touching. Being able to talk to each other and having good laughs while doing so. Being able to hit it off just like you had 11 years ago when Doyoung introduced you two to each other.

Being with Xiaojun just felt right even after a decade.

Enough was enough, you thought.

You dash towards Xiaojun, gripping the sides of his neck with both hands, pulling him closer to you. The tip of your thumbs slide over the tears sitting at the sides of his irises. Your eyes mirror his lidded gaze before wandering to the lips that you’ve longed for the past eight years.

Before your mind could even begin to process, your lips were on Xiaojun’s. Your eyes shut close as his palms land on your chest and slide up to tug at your shoulders.

You push him back against a wall, bruising the tips of some fingers between it and the back of his head. It dips to the side, as you press your face even deeper into his.

Slowly opening your eyes, your puckered lips hover over Xiaojun’s as you gasp for air. You tenderly stare into each other’s eyes for a second, bringing a hand away from the side of his neck to brush strands of hair away from his glittering eyes.

Soft moans escape from between your adhered lips as you reconnect them, further muffled by the contact of your tongues. Xiaojun’s forearms cross over your nape as you burrow your lips down to his neck. He lets out a breathy gasp that tickles your ears as his chin falls onto your shoulder as his mouth goes agape.

You bring your arms up as Xiaojun hastily pulls your sweater over your head and catapults it over the table of food. Your fingers scramble for the collar of his shirt as he undoes the top buttons of yours.

“Good work today, I’ll just make one last check around the place and I’ll get going.” Doyoung says, wiping sweat off of his forehead as he sprawls onto a couch in the waiting area. “See you tomorrow.”

“Thanks boss! Bye!” Karina waves as she exits the restaurant.

Doyoung walks over to the reception desk to see a patch of light coming from the opened door to the private room you were in.

“Is he not done eating?” Doyoung raises a brow, looking at his watch. “Was my food that good?”

“Hey Y/n, we’re closed for tonight, let’s go get some—” Doyoung’s eyes widen upon peeping through the opened door. “—coffee.” He continues his sentence weakly.

In a pushup position over Xiaojun, your hands are on either side of his neck, head buried under his chin, disheveled hair laying over his chest like a puddle. His fingers digging into the wrinkled back of your shirt as his knees wrap around your hips.

“You little—” Doyoung croaks amidst the pants, moans and heavy breathing. His eyebrows dipped as the lids of his twitching eyes vigorously vibrate. 

“Th-that wasn’t on the menu!” He softly yells. But ease seems to wash over him however, his agitated expression quickly morphs into one of relief. His mind wanders to the memory of the last time walked in on you two in the compromising position you were in.

Though not a pleasant sight to see, a second time at that, it does offer him the same kind of closure that it did for you. He didn't exactly like the thought of you two doing what you were doing, more so in his restaurant’s VIP room, but he’s happy for you. All those years of pent up regret and brooding, finally over.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he walks the other direction, pulling out a chair and taking a seat at one of the tables in the dining area.

“You’re still not getting that discount.” Doyoung closes his eyes and breathily mumbles.

“And you’re paying for coffee.” He grunts, glaring at the door. One thing he knew for sure was that you two were going to one really expensive café.

-

𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙙: 02.04.21

𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙: 02.14.21

[sorceressferaly]

Hello fellow Mayalexer. I’d like to know what you think the long term consequences of the Ashland Volcano erupting would be? Sincerely, definitely not someone chronicling Jorvik.

Hello fellow Mayalex person who is definitely not a friend in real life to whom I hinted at that I wanted to answer this very question!

Something that is pretty interesting about large-scale volcanic eruptions is that they cause a lasting effect on the climate for the years to come.

"Little ice-ages" is a phenomenon that can be caused partially by volcanic eruptions, as the ashes linger in the stratosphere and block solar radiation. This leads to worldwide global cooling, which has resulted in harsh winters and poor harvests in the past.

In this post, I will compare a theoretical eruption of Garnok’s Fury with the eruption of an Icelandic volcano in 536, which had devastating consequences globally.

Warning: This might get pretty dark.

The year 536, volcanic eruptions were likely to be - or at the very least a major contributor to - the cause of a "darkening of the sky" where volcanic sulfur and particles coated the skies of the entire northern hemisphere and led to a major drop in temperatures for the next decade.

Catastrophic for the people alive by that time, and in the Mediterranean area a terrible plague named the Plague of Justinian* followed in the wake of the harsh conditions, killing millions.

“During this year a most dread portent took place. For the sun gave forth its light without brightness … and it seemed exceedingly like the sun in eclipse, for the beams it shed were not clear.” - Procopius, Byzantine historian, regarding the disastrous year 536.

Volcanic eruptions pose a danger stretching far beyond the initial eruption. Garnok's Fury would indeed have consequences of global reach!

So what would that mean for Jorvik? Well, if we consider that the consequences of the eruptions of 536 have been speculated by religious scholars to potentially be the source of myths such as the Fimbulvinter**, I think we can say that Jorvik is in for their very own ice age.

However, it's difficult to predict climate change directly in Jorvik, since the climate on the island is influenced not only by volcanic energy but very much by the inherent magic that exists on the island.

For this reason, while I believe that Jorvik wouldn't be covered in ice that would make the island completely uninhabitable, the people of Jorvik would be in for a harsh time.

The most immediate effect, as I mentioned in my previous post, would be the destruction of the dam in the Great Reservoir, which is said to provide most of the electricity and drinking water in Jorvik.

While we don't know the exact size or volume of the Great Reservoir, we know that Lisa describes it as more of an ocean than a dam, and old Jorvegian tales have said that it is bottomless. "Bottomless" is a bit difficult to calculate though, so to find a real-life Jorvik comparison, I'm going to look at a pretty big dam instead.

Karahnjukavirkjun in Iceland is capable of generating 4600 GWh of power annually, which according to the US Bureau of Reclamation is enough to provide electricity to about 1.5 million people. Since the population of Jorvik is likely below a million as Jorvik is supposed to be a relatively small and overlooked island nation on the world stage (only about 350.000 people live on Iceland) this one generator should cover most of Jorvik’s needs.

However, Karahnjukavirkjun is meant to generate power to the Icelandic aluminum industry. Aluminum production requires a ridiculous amount of energy... but Jorvik has no such industry. In fact – Jorvik doesn’t seem to host much of an industry at all!

I asked @jorvegian-chronicler for a second opinion on the industries of Jorvik, and besides raising horses and manufacturing equipment for equestrian needs, it seems like the largest industries on Jorvik would likely be the drilling/mining of natural resources such as oil/gas and fishing/farming second. These industries would have far less need of energy than aluminum production, and thus, the Great Reservoir may be the only source of hydroelectric power production on Jorvik.

However, hydroelectric power is not the only power source on Jorvik. Just like Iceland, Jorvik is likely to have access to a great amount of geothermal power and may use that to provide central heating - which the Jorvegians will likely need once the sky goes dark. There are also the aforementioned great reserves of oil and gas around the island, but it seems like these resources are mainly mined by private companies and not used by the state to provide additional electricity (which they wouldn’t need anyway), so most of the fossil fuels produced on Jorvik might be export only.

Aside from electricity, Linda states in Darkness Falling that most of the drinking water in Jorvik comes from the Great Reservoir. The only canonical area we know that has its own water supply is Dundull and with no more information available we must assume that it is indeed the only local source of drinking water, and all larger settlements such as Jorvik City and Jarlaheim are completely dependent on the Great Reservoir.

We can also make the fairly safe assumption that any farmers on Jorvik rely on an irrigation system powered by freshwater from the Great Reservoir.

Armed with this knowledge (read: qualified guesswork) we can now start speculating what will happen in Jorvik’s own day after tomorrow.

When the dam breaches, it will release an enormous flood of water that will crush everything in its way, eliminating any settlements in the direction of the tidal wave of water that will mercilessly flow out of the broken dam. Canonical locations affected would be Meander Village and Pine Hill Manor. They would likely have some time available for evacuation, but so much for Mr. Sands.

The second effect would be the failure of most of the Jorvegian power grid. While central heating might be covered by geothermal power plants, light, household apparatuses, computers, and various entertainment systems would be shut down. There might be enough emergency power to provide power for an emergency broadcast or low-level lighting, but this emergency power wouldn’t last forever.

If Jorvik has any coal or oil-powered plants, they’d need to start working overtime to fill the power vacuum. However, with Jorvik being very environmentally conscious I believe they would have decommissioned most of the fossil-fueled power plants.

The third effect would be the loss of clean drinking water. You never realize how much water you use until the tap dries up. Mistfall lake seems to be an independent water source, and Silversong River could likely be fueled by meltwater from Dino Valley, but the largest cities in Jorvik – Jorvik City and Jarlaheim – would be without clean water.

There are wells placed around Jorvik that still would be fine to use, but those wells are mainly intended to provide water for the horses in Jorvik, not to provide water for the humans in the cities.

It seems odd to place all the eggs in a single basket by relying so much on this one dam, but I’m not one to question Linda on her knowledge of Jorvegian infrastructure.

A likely consequence is that the Jorvegians that can do so should seek their way to the countryside and smaller settlements. Any village with wells present has a source of groundwater which Jorvik City does not.

The Jorvegian government will have to arrange for water to be transported from other sources, and since Jorvik City is close to Dundull, giant tank trucks would likely be sent into the Mistfall national park in order to transport some of that water back to Jorvik City. . Perhaps GED can make a fortune here by selling Go! Energy Drinks?

Local wells wouldn’t be enough to support large-scale irrigation of agriculture, however, and it would be likely that harvests would fail all around Jorvik that year, as there wouldn’t be enough water available to provide enough for an agricultural industry.

This would be a huge hit to Jorvik’s economy, which relies on the fertile land for a large number of crops, and we all know that it doesn’t seem to rain nearly enough on Jorvik to make up for the loss of irrigation water.

If the harvests would be bad the first year, the subsequent years will be even worse, as the sun will be blocked out by volcanic particles which will lead to a cooldown over the entire northern hemisphere. Reports from the year 536 speak about crop failures and a “failure in bread”, implying that the large amounts of grain grown on Jorvik may not survive the colder climate.

Failing crops and poor harvests will lead to a huge economic deficit not only for the agricultural industry but for the equestrian industry as well. Much of the crops grown on Jorvik are not meant for the human population to consume, but rather to feed Jorvik’s obsession with the equestrian industry.

With an agricultural industry in decline over the next few years, it follows that the equestrian industry can no longer be supported to the same extent.

Several of the horse breeds imported to Jorvik over time may not have the build to survive the colder climate at this time and would need to be transported away from the island. Indigenous and cold-resistant breeds may have better luck, but with no agricultural industry to support them, it’s likely that the equestrian industry as a whole would need to downsize.

This would indirectly impact Jorvik’s tourism industry, as fewer young people would be spending their summer vacation in Jorvik for several years. In fact, Jorvik would likely not experience another summer for years to come!***

On the upside, Jorvik’s glue industry has a bright future ahead.

Fortunately, the fishing and fossil fuel industries wouldn’t be nearly as badly affected by the disaster. With crops failing, the fishing industry would be even more paramount for domestic food production, and Cape West might grow from a small fishing village to a large harbor to support the increased needs for fishing and shipping.

The fossil fuel industries would have to be relied on to provide domestic energy production until the dam can be rebuilt, as well as powering the boats used by the fishing industry.

This increased need for domestic use of fossil fuels would likely hurt Jorvik’s ability to export said fossil fuels, which may have far-reaching consequences globally, as peace never tends to be an option once oil is on the table. It’s unlikely that Jorvik makes up a major part of the global fossil fuel production, but such a sudden change in the worldwide fossil fuel distribution would likely have some consequences on the global market.

With the equestrian and agricultural industries failing, and the fishing and fossil fuel industries taking on more importance, more of Jorvik’s workforce would likely move to work in the industries that can offer them jobs. Carl Peterson is an experienced oil rig worker and would likely be forced to accept a job in the fossil fuel industry, leading to the Starshine Ranch falling into ruin.

Other people may be forced to leave Jorvik entirely, as the failure of the equestrian industry would mean the loss of tens of thousands of jobs in the whole country.

The construction industry would likely be staying strong. There would be a need to rebuild the dam around the Great Reservoir. Construction on the Kárahnjúkar Dam took five years to complete, so we may be looking at a similar timeframe. Hopefully, they will build it to be sturdier this time as to not break as soon as some Sun Circle teenager opens a portal to Pandoria, and also construct some backup plans in the other lakes around Jorvik.

All in all, there would doubtlessly be many years of hardship to face on Jorvik. Hardships that I’m not sure that druidic magic could help with as we’re assuming a completely natural eruption not caused by Garnok and the Hell Portal.

Linda may still be able to foresee the eruption, but if she’d try to warn anyone, she’d likely get the Cassandra**** treatment. Of course, perhaps there is something that the Soul Riders could do to stop it. We don’t know all of the magic that runs through Jorvik, and honestly, I’m sure Linda can find some ritual to banish the initial volcanic eruption to the moon. Moon Circle OP.

There would be a light at the end of the tunnel, as the sun would gradually grow stronger as the particles fade away, and warm, pleasant summers with plentiful harvests would return to Jorvik.

...

Whew, that was pretty dark.

These kinds of events tend to have far-reaching consequences, and I barely even touched on how the political, cultural, and social development could turn out following the eruption, destruction of the dam, and the long winter.

The forces of nature can be great and terrible, and I don’t think most of us tend to reflect on the awesome power of volcanoes nearly often enough. We are but specks of dust in comparison to the movement of the continental plates and the forces of the Earth. Hopefully, we will learn how to master them yet.

Thanks for reading – now please get some water, have a snack, and read something more lighthearted.

*Poor Justinian. For all he did as a Roman Emperor, his name lives on in a plague. Constantine got a city named after him. Julius and Augustus Ceasar each got a month. Justinian got the plague. That's rough, buddy.

**Fimbulvinter is the harsh winter that ends almost all life on Midgård and is the harbinger of Ragnarok in Norse mythology. It has been theorized that this myth was based on stories of harsh winters without any summers in between, that were passed down in oral tradition as tales of the future. Winter is coming, anyone?

***On the other hand, many might be happy that snow in Jorvik is finally back. Why let a little hemispherical disaster get in the way of enjoying the year-long winter?

****Cassandra was a seer and priestess of Apollo in the Illiad myth, cursed with the power to utter completely true prophesies but never be believed. I think Linda relates to her a lot on a personal level.

[crankybeetle]

SO this was supposed to go up on izuku’s birthday but tumblr hates me so you get it now. A variation of each izu from almost every au I have. These all have a complete plot and details, so ask me about any of them and I’ll probably have an answer. Disclaimer nothing is WRITTEN written but I’m working on timelines right now! I’m just a very slow writer. Synopsis of each one under the cut!

Youkai:

Midoriya meets Iida in his second year of college and rooms with him up to his master's degree, where he learns that iida is a war god hiding as a human to stay alive, and that midoriya has been a prison for a dangerous ghost for his entire college career. He falls for iida anyway.

Cyberpunk:

Endeavor Labs is using midoriya as both a scientist and an experiment, his notebooks hold the key to a new kind of cybernetic enhancement that will change the world. Instead of quirks, only cyborgs have superpowers. Midoriya must escape the labs and evade bakugou who has been sent to capture him.

Quirkless vigilante:

In a pro quirk society, it's hard for someone without a quirk to get by. Midoriya is street smart, tough, and fights for the little guy. When his life is saved by Iida, a man on the run with very little left to lose, he takes it upon himself to help iida find uraraka and bring justice to the people that hurt her.

Dadmight:

Because of a pandemic, school is closed and Toshinori's weird film major roommate Sasaki (night eye) needs a place to crash. He moves in with Toshi, his girlfriend Inko, and her son Izuku, a bright boy with an affinity for learning and an admiration for Toshinori's football career. It scares Toshi just how much he knows about frogs and the economy.

Squad C:

Squads A, B, and C are responsible for the safety of Japan. Little do the government officials know how these weaponized kids are trained. Think weapon X. Overpowered and confused, squad C gets scapegoated. Midoriya, iida, uraraka, todoroki, and bakugou can't get along but have to stick together in order to survive brutal missions and dangerous training conditions.

Alien:

The son of the emperor (all might) midoriya grows up on Earth disguised as a human. He needs to practice for The Exam in order to become a full fledged warrior. But at 16, he would rather work on homework and hang out with friends than fight for his homeworld.

Pro hero:

What does life after UA look like for Deku? Very subtle all might costume homages and difficulty remembering to cut his hair and keep in contact with his friends between work as the number 3 hero with Bakugou hot on his heels for 1st.

Villain:

Midoriya has been hurt by society, "saved" by All for One, and confused beyond belief. He's bitter, angry, and feels like he owes a debt to AFO, tho he isn't sure why. (This one isn't super thought out I just want to draw big buff villain deku)

Xavier's:

My hero academia, X-Men style! It's a world where quirks are only 20% of the population instead of 80% like in canon. People fear quirks and Toshinori's is the only safe space where kids can learn to use their quirks. After an accident that levels 2 buildings and puts him in a coma for a month, Midoriya is required to go to UA in order gain control to become a "safer member of society," according to the Office of Quirks and Human Resources. He meets a ragtag group of kids with different levels of power and control (there's only like 6 kids at a time, plus all might and aizawa) and different stories and pasts.

Timeskip Xavier's is after UA and midoriya has to deal with QHR as an intern, trying to fix the system. Iida and Todo move in with him and uraraka, Baku causes trouble, and they all have to save the world from a terrible fate.

This au needs its own separate post I love it too much

Prof/Signing:

Midoriya is a young genetics professor. He uses his spare time to learn sign language in order talk to his childhood friend Baku and his current roommate Iida, get to know his boyfriend of three months Shouto, and solve the story of a mysterious vigilante and a secret quirk fighting ring.

This one sounds convoluted but it's very domestic and makes me learn sign language.

[earaercircular]

A Netflix for stuff: for ten bob a month you can borrow tools and supboards

A drill, a pressure washer, a leaf blower; many people only use them a few times a year. As a result, they catch dust in many sheds. And that is a waste of money and raw materials. Entrepreneur Martijn Tjho therefore argues with BIYU for more sharing: “My vision is a Netflix for products.”

The corona pandemic forced the business community to be creative. So is Tjho. The entrepreneur was working in Central America with a company that built prefab holiday homes in tropical areas. But due to the crisis and uncertainty, investors pulled out. Tjho returned to the Netherlands and was already toying with the next idea: a platform on which people can borrow all kinds of things for a fixed amount per month.

Where did the idea for BIYU[1] come from?

“My background is in the music industry. There has been a major shift in recent years. Previously, a consumer owned music by purchasing a CD. Now you mainly have access to music, thanks to services such as Spotify. Why couldn't you have a similar relationship with products?"

But stuff-sharing platforms, like Peerby, already exist, right?

“With a platform like Peerby[2], you borrow tools from, for example, your neighbours. In theory, that's a nice concept. But in practice you often spend hours haggling over suitable pick-up or delivery times. And there is uncertainty about the quality of the stuff you borrow and in what condition you get it back. In fact, the sharing economy in that form is like an open marriage; in advance it sounds like a good idea, until you see someone running away with your stuff.”

What does BIYU do differently then?

“With us, a consumer pays a fixed amount per month of 10 euros, which can be cancelled monthly. This gives him or her 24 hours access to a product. Think of a drill, pressure washer, DJ set, cotton candy machine or supboard. [3] You can pick up these items at our hub, or they will be delivered with a cargo bike. The items are of the highest quality and are supplied through partnerships that BIYU has entered into with the supplier. That is good for the consumer, but also for us. High-quality tools break less often. And if something does break, it will be repaired via the lines we have with the producer.”

And what is in it for the suppliers of these products from your platform?

“They generate revenue based on what is lent out. And they get the opportunity to offer their products in a circular way. We also collect data about the use of their belongings. How long does a drill last? After how often should you replace a saw? This is valuable information for producers. They take the items back at the end of their useful life. This way they can easily reuse the still working parts.”

How big is BIYU now?

“At the moment we are only active in Amsterdam, where we are approaching a thousand users. We will soon be expanding our loan options. This also makes it possible to borrow items for a one-off amount; pay per use. In this way, we hope to attract even more people to our platform.”

Is it possible to convince consumers from paying for possession to paying for use?

“As far as we're concerned, sure! Consumers just need to gain confidence that borrowed items work. The tipping point really lies in quality. You just borrow good stuff. That is different when you buy an average device at a hardware store, because you know that you will only use it a few times. We see people returning to BIYU. Even if they initially only took a subscription for one month, for example due to a renovation.”

What challenges do you face?

“We are now outgrowing our hub in Amsterdam. And finding places with a good central location is difficult. We want to be as close as possible to the user. Furthermore, a hub should not just be a transportation centre; we also want to provide space for workshops so that consumers can learn how to use certain devices.

Furthermore, due to the current situation in the world, we are dealing with disrupted supply chains. DJ sets are very popular, but practically impossible to get anymore. Investors have been more conservative lately. But luckily we are still growing.”

What can we expect from BIYU in the future?

“After being active in Amsterdam for six months, we will be scaling up the capacity. And we want to test the concept in Amersfoort[4] this year; a smaller town. If this succeeds, we will tackle the rest of Europe. My ultimate vision is one app where you can borrow everything you need. Wherever you are. Whether you need a circular saw in Amsterdam, or a boat in Paris. BIYU is becoming a Netflix for stuff.”

Source

Teun Schröder, Een Netflix voor spullen: voor een tientje per maand leen je gereedschap en supboards, in: Chgange Inc, 18-05-2022, https://www.change.inc/circulaire-economie/een-platform-voor-het-delen-van-boormachines-dj-sets-en-supboards-biyu-wordt-netflix-voor-spullen-38293

[1] BIYU is a product access platform. It provides access to all the products one needs on demand and on occasion via our app (Appstore/Playstore). For flat fixed fee of €10 per month members get the entire BIYU catalogue (no deposits/no additional product payments) or customers can rent our products on a pay-per-use basis. The company’s categories range from DIY to Kitchen and Play, everything to cover home and work needs. Products can be delivered to the customer’s doorstep and picked up thereafter. The future of rental is here for people that want to live asset light & hassle free. Why own products if one can have hassle free access to the best products from the best brands for a low monthly fee? https://www.biyu.world/en/about

[2] Peerby is an online platform that makes it possible to borrow, borrow and rent items such as a travel guide, a travel cot for children, a party tent, a trailer, etc. As a user, a subscription of 2.99 euros per month or 17.95 euros per year is enough to borrow or rent unlimitedly from the neighbours, with a guarantee. https://www.peerby.com/beta-dashboard/contact

[3] SUP stands for Stand Up Paddling, which means moving yourself with a paddle while standing on a board. The accessibility and versatility of SUP ensure that this sport has grown explosively in a short time. With SUP you can discover the world in a relaxed way from the water.

[4] Amersfoort is a city and municipality in the province of Utrecht, Netherlands and is not situated in the Randstad. As of 1 December 2021, the municipality had a population of 158,531, making it the second-largest of the province and fifteenth-largest of the country.