#any of the 3 moin's

[dinosaurcharcuterie]

Hochdeutsch is an artificial language, and I will fucking die on this hill.

I've been living in Germany for 10+ years, visited Austria, hung out with germanophone Swiss people--none of them speak it naturally. They can, when asked or forced to, in most cases, but all I've seen it used for is reporting the news, use as a lingua franca when English is not an option, teaching the concepts of German to native and non-native speakers alike, and, oddly, mocking the fact that regiolects/dialects/evolution and changes in language exist.

And don't give me "but written language!"

1. Norwegians used Danish as a written language for ages. I don't care about 19th century Denmark's hopes and dreams, it did not kill Norwegian as a language, nor did it make Norwegian a dialect of Danish.

2. I have seen actual German be written down in published works that were not academic textbooks. It's possible, it's just not popular.

Yiddish and Gothic are both oddball Germanic languages occupying unique places in the tree that get erroneously conflated with modern Hochdeutsch because of racism. Idk what to do with this observation but it feels interesting.

[swiftiesusa]

could you write something based off "so high school" about Caitlin?

SO HIGH SCHOOL (C.C)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

PAIRING: Caitlin Clark x fem!reader

SUMMARY: you and Caitlin are eachother’s number one supporters

WORD COUNT: 891

A/N: first fic on here!! keep sending those requests! but guys i literally wrote this on google docs and why did i kinda eat it up..

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Everytime Caitlin has a game, you sit right where you can see her. It was tradition that neither of you wanted to break. She makes you wear her jersey to every game and can always spot you in the crowded arena. Sure, other people wear her same jersey but when you wear it, it's a different story. She calls you her ‘good luck charm’. But deep down it was more than that. It was a connection between you guys.

You and Caitlin were complete opposites. While you buried yourself in books, she lived and breathed basketball. Her life revolved around the court and it seemed like her million followers followed every move.Every game and every hoop was pure dedication to not only her sport but to you too. Despite your differences, your guy’s bond was unbreakable.

The first time you guys met you were sitting in a large library in the city of Des Moines. It was late, late for a basketball star-player to be in there at least. You were hunched over in textbooks, notes and color coordinated highlighters. Caitlin wandered in and went straight to the sports biography section. You could recognize that high ponytail and athletic build anywhere. She immediately caught your eyes peering at her but there were just silent glances with awkward smiles here and there. It seemed like you guys were the only people in there, because you were, besides the ancient librarian. You saw her stride over to your table and you looked up at her standing right in front of you.

“Hey” She started, “Is this book any good?” she flashed that smile you had gotten used to. From then on, you guys would regularly meet at that same library where that meet cute happened. Caitlin would always be dripping in sweat with a basketball by her side when she found you hunched over like you always were.

As months passed, you guys became each other's biggest supporters. You couldn’t help but be hypnotized by her. One night after her basketball practice she invited you to be away from the books and watch her shoot hoops at the outside courts. “Y/N? Can I tell you something” she sat down next to you on the metal bench and your heart raced when she spoke those words, “I always notice you, at my games, all the time.” You went a little teary eyed. Having a crush on Caitlin took you back to the times in high school where you would get so giddy after one singular interaction with your crush and it felt childish at first but it felt right.

Tonight, it was Caitlin’s biggest game of the season and getting tickets was intense but thank god you managed to get them. You sat alone, in the second row up from the court watching Caitlin warm up and shoot 3-pointers like it was nothing. Her eyes scanned the crowd and her eyes immediately landed on yours. She pointed to you and then to the ball, “This ones for you!” She mouthed and you beamed her a smile. She shot the ball and made it. You laughed at her attempt to flirt. The game was intense and at times you had to look away because you were so stressed for Caitlin. The way she moved the way her brain worked on the court left you in awe. She made every shot she threw and the announcer would make that loud announcement like “CAITLIN CLARKKKK MAKES IT IN”.

You cheered louder than anyone and everytime she made a basket or one of her teammates did she would always look for you first to make sure you were supporting her. Your voice eventually became hoarse from yelling and cheering too much but you only focused on her. The final buzzer echoed and Caitlin had led the team to victory again! Her team crowded around her but her eyes were still fixed on you. She broke away from her team after their big group hug and made her way over to you in the stands.

You put your arms out and she gave you the biggest hug. Neither cared about how sweaty she was, the hug felt like you were the only ones in that arena, besides the countless cameras that were probably on you guys. “Thank you,” you felt her say in your ear while still embracing in the hug, “For always being here. For believing in me” Your heart melted when she said those words to you. You pulled away, but not completely away, so you can look at her in her eyes. “Always.” Your voice was filled with a million emotions, “I will forever be your number one supporter, I'm so proud of you.” There was a swift moment but you both knew what you wanted.

Caitlin rested one hand on your cheek and the other on your waist and pulled you in for your long awaited kiss. It's what you've dreamed about for the last few months. She pulled away with a smile that made you melt and her eyes were shining under the bright gymnasium lights. Fingers entwined with one another, “Let's get out of here,” She grabbed your hand tightly, “I want to celebrate with you” No matter how different you guys were, she always made it feel like it was just a high school crush.

[thislovintime]

Photo 1 by Henry Diltz, photos 2 & 3 by Micky Dolenz (in screenshots from footage of his tour, Micky Dolenz Celebrates The Monkees).

Bringing back an article transcribed in 2023, since it ties in with the theme of these photos.

“Dolenz chewed a jaw-breaker and snapped pictures of Peter. Jones sat nearby and munched his lunch. Tork said he believes in doing anything ‘as long as you’re totally committed to what you’re doing.’ Is Peter committed to starring in a television series, making hit rock ‘n’ roll records and living in Hollywood? ‘Sometimes,’ he said, ‘but I’ve got my best men working on it.’ Peter gets up and goes to the diving board. He clowns a while, starting to dive, then stopping suddenly at the end of the board. Teen-age girls at the side of the pool cry out, ‘Oh, Peter.’ Finally, Peter dives. The girls applaud and sigh. He comes back to the side of the pool and digs his hand into a box with the words ‘Peace’ and ‘Love’ painted on the side. The box, called a ‘Super Survival Kit,’ is filled with things Monkees are fond of, like Plasticman and Tarzan comics, a bushy-headed figure with a sign that says ‘Stamp Out Haircuts’ and a feathered hat. Tork, resting up beside the pool, commented, ‘It’s not hard work.’ He added that he spends what little free time he has ‘balancing my checkbook.’ ‘
We’ve been accused of copying the Beatles,’ said Peter, ‘but we’re picking up on the same things.’ Referring to the Beatles’ new hit ‘Baby You’re A Rich Man,’ he said that it means anyone can make it big. Did he think two years ago when he was a folk-singer in New York City’s Greenwich Village that he would make the big-time in the pop music field or television? ‘Sure, although I didn’t believe it as firmly as I do now. Now I’m a believer,’ Peter said with a grin. One of the Monkees biggest hits was ‘I’m a Believer.’ Other hits have been ‘Last Train to Clarksville,’ ‘Stepping Stone’ and the currently popular ‘Words.’ A cha-cha came blaring over the loudspeaker at poolside. Peter glanced up. ‘That’s obscene,’ he remarked. A young girl in a blue bathing suit nervously stepped forward requesting an autograph. Peter signed: ‘Love, Peter Tork’ and drew a flower. ‘I dig flowers,’ he said. ‘I always put a flower after my autograph, because it’s more gentle that way. But that doesn’t make me a flower child or a hippie. No one can call himself a flower child. ‘I also wear beads all the time now, any beads, colorful beads,’ said Peter, who attended Carleton College in Northfield, Minn., from 1959 to 1963. Then he settled back in the deck chair to read a ‘Peanuts’ book — out loud.” - article by James Beaumont, The Des Moines Register, August 7, 1967 (x)

[morbidology]

Dale Shroeder was a carpenter working at Moehl Millwork in Des Moines, Iowa, for 67 years. He never married and never had any children. Therefore, when he passed away in 2005, he left his $3 Million to 33 strangers so that they could go to college. Shortly before his death, he contacted a lawyer to talk about a plan for his money. Dale had grown up poor and had always wanted to go to college but never had the opportunity. His last wish was to send small town Iowa kids to college and that’s exactly what he did. With Dale’s kindness, many of these students went on to become doctors, teachers and therapists.

[writingquestionsanswered]

I’ve been reading some craft books and online posts about the world building because my story is an urban fantasy set in present day US, in a fictional town, and theres not a secondary world where the fantasy happens, it’s all in the real world, except the magic is a secret that only certain people know about, but all of the resources I find about world building only talk about fantastical worlds that exist by themselves and not the kind of more subtle world building that I’d have to do. Do you have any tips?

Guide: Creating a Fictional Town in the Real World

Step 1 - Choose Your Location - There are two ways to go about choosing a location for your fictional town. One is to go the "Springfield U.S.A." route, ala The Simpsons, and be vague about the specific location (borough, parish, district, county, region, state, or province) and instead give a broader geographic region... "the East Coast," "the Pacific Northwest," "Central Canada," Northern Scotland," etc. The other option is to go ahead and put your fictional town in a specific location. Just figure out where (for example, somewhere outside of Des Moines, Iowa) and go to Google Maps, click on satellite view, then start zooming in on big empty areas. Choose a place big enough to fit a town. Yes, in reality it's probably farm fields, pasture, or someone's property, but that doesn't matter. You don't have to actually show it on a map. It's just a plausible spot to build your town. Now you can measure how far it is to other places, you know what highways to take to get to it. You can even do street view to get the lay of the land, see what the landscape looks like and try to envision the buildings there. You can also use what's there to create parks, popular recreational areas, and anything else your town needs.

Step 2 - Choose Your Inspiration - Even when you're creating a fictional town, it's still a good idea to use a real town (or two, or three) from that general area as inspiration for your town. For a fictional town in Des Moines, I would zoom in on the map to find a nearby town of similar size... like Elkhart, then I can take a look around to see what it's like. Just looking at the map, I can see they have a couple of churches, a couple baseball fields, a very small main street/downtown area with a couple shops and restaurants, a post office, a few different neighborhoods, and a cemetery. This would be a great model for a small fictional town outside of Des Moines. And, as I said, you could look at a couple other sand combine them. Once you have your inspiration town/s, you can walk around on Google Maps street view, go to the town's web site, watch a tour on YouTube (if one exists), or look up pictures in Google Image search.

Step 3 - Start Planning - This is the really fun part! First, you might want to draw a basic map of your fictional town using your inspiration town/s as a guide. This doesn't have to be a pretty map... just a basic line drawing to help you envision where everything is. Think about some of the basic things this town might have, like the ones I listed in step two, and any other things you might want your town to have, like maybe a library, a hospital, a city hall, school, and maybe a movie theater. It might even be helpful and fun to put together a collage of pictures to represent your town so you've got something in mind as you write about it. You can even choose representatives for specific locations in your story, like your MC's house, school, and their favorite hangout.

Step 4 - Naming Your Town - Start by looking at the kinds of town names that surround your town. Look for common naming conventions... suffixes like -ton, -ville, -dale, -burg, -wood, -field, etc. Words in a particular language, like a lot of French-inspired town names, or towns with geographical terms (lake, hill, valley, river, canyon, gap, etc.) My guide to Naming Locations has additional tips.

Step 5 - Populate Your Town and Give it a History - Last but not least, make up a little history for your town, again, using surrounding towns as inspiration. Who founded it? When was it founded? What's the town's main industry? What are the people like in this town? What jobs do they have? What do they do for fun?

Here are some other posts that might help:

Five Things to Help You Describe Fictional Locations Setting Your Story in an Unfamiliar Place WQA’s Guide to Internet Research Happy writing!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[paperandsong]

Légendes rustiques by George Sand, completed English translation

Original French at Project Gutenberg

Les Légendes rustiques is a collection of twelve creepy French folk legends gathered up and written down by George Sand and illustrated by her son, Maurice Sand, published in 1858. These stories were collected in the Berry region, but there are connections made to legends from Brittany and Normandy as well.

I came across a mention of the Rustic Legends a few years ago and realized there was no official English translation available, despite that George Sand is a very famous author. It turns out, Sand was such a prolific writer that much of her work has never been translated into English. I ordered a "translation" from Amazon and was disappointed to find that someone had just run the text through translation software without any editing or providing any cultural context. It was unreadable and I threw it in the trash.

I asked some fandom friends if they would be interested in trying to translate all twelve legends into English on our own. It has been a few years and each story has had several revisions and rounds of editing. This was a challenging translation project - there are many words in archaic French or not in French at all. Thanks to everyone who helped - I am really proud of the results here.

The purpose of this project is simply to make these twelve legends accesible to an English-reading audience. They have been available in the original French at Project Gutenberg for a long time. Use this post as a table of contents - each line will take you to a new story published on Tumblr. Sometimes they are creepy, they are often funny, and Sand's rambling style is cozy, making you feel like she is sitting right across a candle from you, telling you a story she once heard from someone else, a long time ago. Enjoy!

Introduction

1. Les Pierres-Sottes

2. Les Demoiselles

3. Les Laveuses de nuit

4. La Grand’Bête

5. Les Trois Hommes de Pierre

6. Le Follet d’Ep-Nell

7. Le Casseu’ de Bois

8. Le Meneu’ de Loups

9. Le Lupeux   

10. Le Moine des Étangs-Brisses

11. Les Flambettes

12. Lubins et Lupins

[bell-arina271]

Living Spaces for Artists: Interest Survey

Hello tumblr, my name is Arina, and I have considered for several years now creating a living space in the US for artists and creatives alike just starting out on their respective journeys. My idea was to purchase a large house and rent out rooms for incredibly cheap, so that the struggling artist would have a means to live on their own while they focus on their career. In my search for a starter house for myself, I stumbled across two properties that would help me realize this dream even sooner than I realized. However, as with all things, nothing is perfect, and there are a few caveats. The first is that both properties are in the northern United States, which means hot summers and harsh and cold winters. The second is that one is located far from metropolitan areas, and are mostly surrounded by small towns. It would not be impossible to find a regular job in these areas, but may require a commute.

Both properties are in need of renovations. There are several rooms that are structurally sound, which I would be willing to rent out in the case of emergency, but for the most part the buildings would not be available until at least mid-next year.

For both properties, I would rent the rooms out at $200/month, and yes that would include utilities. You would be allowed up to two people per room, and two pets per room. Property descriptions below the cut.

The first property is located in Wisconsin, near the Great Lakes and the Canadian border. From the looks of it, this was a caretaker home for the elderly, and as such has handicap access and multiple entrances. My idea was to rent out the top floor to residents, and then airbnb the bottom floor rooms. From what I’ve been told this area is high in tourism for outdoor activities and the like, so I may even be able to make an arrangement to have a few people have free room and board in exchange for maintaining the rooms, or cooking or cleaning up after guests. (This is a rough work in progress idea.)

As you can see, most rooms still need renovations, but several rooms can be considered move-in ready.

Has a large functional kitchen, and walk-in cooler, which would allow multiple people to use it at once, or hypothetically, sustain a semi-hotel set up.

Several bathrooms are functional and in working order, but would need to be shared. There is one bathroom for every two rooms, and I would need to decide whether to convert a couple bedrooms into bathrooms to accommodate everyone, but at the moment, consider these like dorms where you have to share bathrooms.

And that’s it for the first property! Onto the next one:

This next property is located in Chariton Iowa, about an hour south of Des Moines. Finding a job here wouldn’t be too difficult, though it would require a bit of a commute.

As far as I can tell the whole building is in need of renovations, so this wouldn’t be move-in ready until next year. I would also need to convert a couple rooms into bathrooms, because having 4 bathrooms between 15 rooms isn’t feasible for many people.

And that just about sums it up! This post is for me to see if anyone else is even interested in my idea, but if no one bites, then I will likely buy these properties to convert them into a bed and breakfast/motel type situation.

Or, if people buy these properties before me, I’ll find a smaller property to start small with my idea.

So, that being said:

If you’d like to be updated on the progress of whichever project/endeavor I end up taking, go ahead and follow this blog.

And if you can, please reblog this, or tell anyone you think might need this, so I can see if there are any interested parties. Thank you <3

[11x13kyle]

where they’re banned

kyle: staples, this mom and pop pho place a few blocks away from his dorm junior year of college due to an incident that he absolutely refuses to discuss, his mom’s knitting class, 3 different whole foods, a souvenir shop in montauk, zabar’s (but only the restaurant part, in the grocery part he’s fine)

kenny: uboulder, the hooters in colorado springs, the gastroenterologist’s office, the entire city of des moines, the new york new york casino, urth caffe, the bar right above kenny’s basement apartment that he had the year after he graduated

stan: tweek bros, skeeter’s, the church that held his (former) aa meetings, red rock stadium, atlantic city, knotts berry farm, the bar right above kenny’s basement apartment that he had the year after he graduated

cartman: 2 waffle houses, any kroger-owned grocery store, anywhere within 200 feet of his (former) therapist, germany, belgium, LACMA, utah, kyle’s mom’s knitting classes

[queen-of-deans-booty]

The Werther Project: Part One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: Dean's worst fears come to light when he and Sam mess with something that shouldn't have been messed with in the first place.

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

For the past week, Dean has been trying to practice using your magic. You haven't come back to the Bunker since you left the cabin in Des Moines, and he doesn't really care. You're not here which means he gets to practice without you knowing he has your magic. The best place to do that is in the backyard you made. No one is around to enjoy it so it's become a breeding ground for magic.

Dean looks around the destroyed backyard with a sigh. The basketball net is shredded, Sam's garden looks like a car ran right through it, and the wooden gazebo is in pieces on the ground. If Dean continues this way, he will destroy everything else. Dean creates a ball of blue magic between his hands and tries to hold it but it shoots out of his hand and to the ground. Instead of the ground absorbing it, it bounces back and hits him square in the face.

"Fuck!"

"I take it it's not going well?" Sam asks.

"I don't know how Y/N did this. It's so damn hard!"

Dean conjures a ball of magic again and tries to lift Maryann's playset up but all it does is explode next to the swings, causing bits of hard plastic to go everywhere.

"Great," Dean scoffs.

"Have you tried reading the journals and books about the Sapphire Witch?"

"Yeah, I did. Multiple times. It's completely useless because I don't understand how easily it came to them. God, I wish Y/N was here to help me," he sighs sadly.

"Well, I got a lead on the book." When Sam told Dean he didn't destroy the book, he was pissed but it's the only thing that is going to help you so he's grateful that it's still here. "I'm going to talk to Rowena. She might be able to help."

"I don't like bringing this to her."

"The only other person who can decode it is Y/N but she'll destroy it. So, Rowena is my plan."

"Just go," Dean sighs. "I'll try not to destroy much else."

When Dean is alone again, he thinks back to some of your most magical times, one of them being this backyard. Magic looks easy when you're the one who was doing it. If you can create twelve of you to fight Cas then he can do a simple levitation spell. He doesn't need to be an expert on this, just enough to take you down. He takes a deep breath and tries again.

Rowena agrees to meet Sam at a restaurant only because she wants something. Sam gets there first and takes a seat in the back. Rowena strolls in moments later all doled up like she's going someplace fancy.

"Samuel," she grins and sits across from him.

"Rowena. I know you know we have the book."

"Yes, I do, but my help does not come for free."

"As I suspected. What do you want?"

"There's only one thing you could possibly do for me that I can't, at least presently, do for myself. Kill my son. He's expecting it from me. He already has his stinking minions on high alert. If you're wondering how a mother can get to the point of wanting her own son--"

"No, I'm really not," Sam cuts her off. "I'll do it. I'll kill Crowley. First things first, can you read the book?

"Of course I can. Besides the Scarlet Witch, I'm likely the only witch alive who can understand such old, dark magic. Just not in its present form. Allowing me to look at this book is bold even for you. I'm your mortal enemy. I've tried to kill you, your witch, and your brother as recently as last month. You wouldn't have come to me if I wasn't your last resort. You're desperate. You can stop pretending you're not. Now, I can't read the book in its present form, but there is someone who could. Nadya. Grand Coven witch."

"Where do I find her?"

"You don't. She's dead. Long ago. Murdered for her life's work. Her decryption formulas and her codex are what you can find. Bring me Nadya's codex, and I'll break this text right open and give you your cure."

"Where do I look?"

"If I were you, I'd start at home. Who do you think murdered Nadya and stole the codex in the first place?"

"The Men of Letters. I'll be in touch."

Sam heads back to the Bunker only to find Dean asleep in his room. You're still nowhere to be found but he can't care about that. He knows how hard this has been for Dean so he has to find this cure as fast as he can. You're his best friend. He'd do anything for you. Plus, the longer you go without your soul, the more it's going to hurt when you finally do get it back. Sam finds a bunch of stuff in the storage room that he moves into the library. Inside one of the boxes is an audio tape reel. He doesn't want to wake Dean so he plugs headphones in and listens to it.

"Please, let's come to order. Men of Letters meeting minutes--May 16, 1956. On the matter of Cuthbert Sinclair's expulsion."

"This is hardly your first offense, Cuthbert. You've been cited for disciplinary infractions seven times in the course of your tenure. This enchanted vault of yours, this Werther box has a warding so potent it achieves a theoretical rate of, in your own words, ninety-eight percent lethality."

"Extreme measures were warranted. The Coven is desperate to get the codex back. The Werther box works," Cuthbert explains.

"All too well, I'd say. Working in secret, embarking on this project without oversight left two fellow Men of Letters vulnerable to your most potent magics. Fletcher and Martinez were members in good standing. Fletcher chanced upon the box and died in two hours. Martinez heroically tried to shut it down. We found him dead on the floor beside the box, his wrists cut," Markham says.

"I already apologized for that accident. I refuse to do so again. Why are you all so small-minded? Hmm? We were brought here to do great things, to take risks, and to bring the fight to the monsters of this world. Yet, to a man, you choose instead to molder in these stacks. You are not men. You are NOT men. You're librarians, nothing more."

"Before we rule on what is to be done with you, I'm prepared to give you a chance to secure our leniency. Tell us how to shut it down. The box is still in St. Louis with the codex. It's still a danger."

"Let me tell you what you can do with your leniency, Markham. You know, I saw the writing on the wall. I knew you cowards would shut this project down, which is why I built it the way I did. There is only one way to silence the Werther for good. Let's just say Martinez was on the right track. I doubt you lot have the guts but you're welcome to die trying."

A door slamming sounds and Sam can only imagine Cuthbert left the room.

"Markham, would you have us keep trying?" another man asks.

"The box is to be interred and guarded where it stands, in perpetuity. Bury it."

Sam turns off the tape and looks through the records where he finds the Men of Letters headquarters in St. Louis. He takes out his phone and calls Rowena. It takes three rings but she eventually answers it.

"I was in the middle of taking my nap, Samuel. I'm over three hundred years old. Beauty sleep isn't optional."

"I've been looking into the thing we discussed. I got a lead, but it's guarded by a violent enchantment. I need a spell to break the spell."

"The Cabirian invocation. Easy to obtain. Good all-purpose disenchantment."

"Great. Thanks."

Sam is about to hang up but Rowena speaks again.

"It's not recommended for amateurs. In inexperienced hands, the invocation has a way of fizzling out. I could come. You might need me."

"I'll take my chances. Thanks," Sam says and hangs up.

"What are you taking your chances on?" Dean asks when he walks into the library.

"I got a lead on the codex. Are you up for it?"

"Give me ten."

Sam and Dean travel to St. Louis and pull up to a run-down-looking house. The white paint is chipping on the outside of the house, the yard is overgrown with weeds, and there are piles of newspapers sitting on the front porch.

"So, you want to do this or shall I?"

"Wait here."

Sam gets out of the can and walks up the porch steps, careful for the one step that's bowing in. He doesn't think anyone is living in this place so he doesn't bother knocking. He tries to look into the window on the door but there is a curtain closed so he can't see much. He takes out his lock pick and tries to use it but the barrel of a gun comes out of the letter box and whoever is on the other side is pointing it at his pelvis.

"Bad idea."

"Whoa! I can explain!"

"Yeah, don't bother. You have three choices: get arrested, get your bits blown off, or get back."

"I think I'll get back."

"Attaboy."

He walks back to the car and looks at Dean with wide eyes.

"Yeah, she threatened to shoot me in the dick."

"Really?" Dean chuckles.

"Dude."

"Alright. From what I gathered from Google, this family moves into this long-vacant house. One week later, three of them were dead at their own hands. The whole family was wiped out except for the daughter, Suzie, whose house is still under her name. I'm figuring she's the one who nearly unmanned you back there."

"Yeah, well, this long-vacant home used to be a Men of Letters chapter house. Remember Magnus?"

"You mean the dickwad ex-Men of Letters that tried to make a zoo exhibit out of me and YN? Yeah."

"Before he was expelled, he built Werther, a magical box with a deadly alarm system. Werther is buried somewhere in this house. It was supposed to have been guarded, but I'm guessing that plan went out the window when Abaddon massacred the entire membership in '58. The house stayed in limbo until some lucky family bought it. Werther's a time bomb and it needs to be defused. Not only is this in our wheelhouse, it's our responsibility."

"Our responsibility?"

"We're Men of Letters. It's our legacy."

"Alright. Different plan. She's only seen you. You sneak in the back and find it while I distract her. Think you can manage that?"

"Yeah," Sam rolls his eyes.

Dean walks up the porch steps to the front door and knocks while Sam runs to the back without being seen. He looks down at the letterbox, remembers what Sam said, and covers his dick with his hands as if that will stop a bullet. The door opens and a woman steps out with a gun pointed right at Dean.

"What did I say?" Dean squeaks when he sees the gun and looks at her with wide eyes. She frowns when she sees it's not Sam and looks around. "You're not.... Fella tried to.... What do you want?"

Shit, say something. Anything. Anything will do. Just say words.

"You saw him? Oh, tell me you did. I'm sorry, but my name is Dwight Twilley. I'm with the neighborhood watch. We're looking into a few recent break-ins, and if you saw the guy it would be mighty helpful if you gave a description. If I could--if I could just have a minute of your time?"

Dean steps into her home and squeaks out the word "time" but clears his throat to keep his composure. She looks around and closes the door before joining Dean in the living room.

"Tall, white fella. Pretty hair."

"Right. It's a nice house you have here, uh..."

"Suzie."

"Suzie. Do you live here alone?"

"Just me and Gus."

"Gus?" Suzie raises her gun in response. The kettle begins whistling in the kitchen so Suzie walks over to it with Dean following her. "So, all alone in this big house, huh? Must get lonely even with Gus."

"Yeah, well I'm used to alone."

She pours herself two cups and puts two tea bags in them. She offers a cup to Dean but he shakes his head politely. With her back turned to him, Dean looks at the back door and sees Sam trying to break into the basement door. If he's going to hide something as big as a Werther box, it'll be in the basement. He gets the lock open and gives a thumbs up to Dean.

"No, thank you."

"Been alone here since, uh, '80? After my family died, my Aunt Pauline moved in. She took care of me and raised me for a few years."

Dean hears something move in the basement and he coughs loudly to cover up the noise.

"So, what happened to your aunt?"

"I told her not to go in the basement. No one goes in the basement."

"What's in the basement, Suzie?" She looks out the window with tears in her eyes. She turns back to the kitchen counter and grabs a knife. "Ma'am you okay?"

She immediately turns and points her gun at Dean who backs up in fear.

"Oh! Whoa! Suzie!"

"My social skills may be rusty but I'm no idiot. The doorbell hasn't rung in months, and two visitors in one hour? One breaking in, and the other asking all sorts of questions about..."

"I told you, I was from the neighborhood watch."

"Yeah, yeah, neighborhood watch. Right. Boy, have you seen this house? There's only one thing in here worth getting at, and it sure as hell ain't me. You came for the box. Whoever left that Godforsaken thing down there.... I knew someday, someone would come for it. I swore never to let that happen. He's downstairs isn't he?"

Well, the gig is up.

"He's my brother, and we're here to help you."

"You call him up here. Now! You call him up here! Now!"

"Sam! Sammy!" Dean yells. "She wants you up here, now!"

Suddenly, a loud boom sounds from the basement that terrifies Suzie.

"No... No! Get out! Get out! Out! Out! You bastards!" Suzie rushes Dean toward the front door with her gun trained in front of her. He stops by the front door and looks at her who has tears in her eyes. "You let it out!"

Both he and Suzie look toward the stairs where there is a bright green mist. It flies all around the duo before entering their bodies through their eyes. Both of their eyes are yellow-green as the mist takes control of their minds.

"Dean!" Dean blinks and his eyes return to normal. "Dean!" He sees the gu in Suzie's hands and puts his hands up as he joins his brother's side. "Hey, hey, hey. Take it easy."

"Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"Put the gun down. We can talk about this, okay?"

Something passes by the brothers from behind and Suzie's eyes go wide.

"What was that?" She looks at something between the brothers with fear in her eyes. "Oh, my God."

"What's wrong with her?"

"I don't know."

"Stay back. Stay back!"

"Go!" Sam and Dean jump out of the way just in time for Suzie to shoot her gun at her bookshelf. She must be seeing something that isn't there. "What are you doing, huh? You don't have a plan. You don't have a defense."

"No!" Suzie yells from her office door.

"Suzie!" Sam yells and leaves the living room to head to the office.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[all-pacas]

this might just be me, but chameron were at their most interesting in season 3. I mean they were fucking all over the hospital but never actually had a conversation?? Teasing each other when performing procedures??? Chase deciding that she's the one for him?? There's a gold moine of material there but for some reason fic authors rarely write about this period. If you have any fics/wips/headcannons, they'd be much appreciated!

HONESTLY i've been meaning to yell at length about the woman cameron is because it's so insane. like i don't understand why anyone believes anything she says. she trots up to chase like "i will never ever fall in love with you, let's have sex," and by the next episode they're coming into work together after showering together after spending the night together. this whole "there are BOUNDARIES and RULES" things disintigrates immediately.

cameron keeps calling it a relationship and chase keeps correcting her. he's the one to suggest she wants to make house jealous, the episode before there's a subplot about cameron doing just that. they're fucking all over the hospital. when chase wants to stop doing that, cameron invites him on a lunch date. she keeps initiating sex, we never see chase suggest it once. and then when he takes all this to mean huh, i guess we're in a relationship she goes HOW DARE YOU??? like holy shit cameron mixed messages i love you. and she — as chase points out — starts acting like he dumped her, like he hurt her.

and we're supposed to believe her when she's like "i have no feelings for this man?" "i will never have feelings for this man?" GIRL. i mean at the LEAST she is sending the most mixed messages ever. they have spent, apparently, every single day of this period fucking and going on lunch dates and staying at one another's places. this was the worst friends with benefits situation of all time. they were absolutely dating. and yes chase is the one who got feelings first, as soon as 'half wit' he was clearly -- there's a little surprised look he gets when foreman suggests cameron make out with house, like, oh no -- and cameron is opaque. and i don't know that she was in love with chase or anything, just that she was absolutely treating this like a Relationship and it's insane she gets mad at chase for thinking it was. i adore her. chase was 500% correct when he said she had feelings for him because she has feelings for everyone. i even think you can make a case that she picked him intentionally, because she liked him, but had to couch it in disclaimers and "it means nothing" because she can't stand to cede control or be vulnerable like that: she actually says exactly that in "lockdown," and frankly? it makes sense. like yes it's kiiiinda a retcon but it checks out for her. i do think she was totally sincere about not wanting a relationship and not wanting to date chase. i absolutely think she fucked this up completely and totally from moment one. she did nothing wrong and i love her

[allen-kunekune]

Day 3: Fantasy - Cowboys - Don Quixote

Je suis trop fatigué pour le mettre sur AO3 donc ça attendra demain. Je suis heureux de ne pas le publier en retard au moins. ^^"

He had always loved Don Quixote. It was one of the few books his Abuelo could afford, and as a child, Luis often lost himself in its pages to pass the time. It was a journey through lands he didn’t know, reaching so far for a child who had never seen beyond the village and its forest.

Luis couldn't help but love this book that his grandfather read to him after returning from the hunt, a book that remained close to him as the model he should follow while growing up. Don Quixote was a novel of adventure, but also comedic, offering a certain moral and glimmer of hope. A man could be right against a society that was wrong. Anyone could wake up one morning and set off on an adventure to follow their dreams and the crazy desire to change the world.

Luis did so, drying his tears and fleeing everything that reminded him of his grandfather. His Abuelo's screams still echoed in his mind as the flames consumed him. That should never have happened. Luis was an idealist, so when Umbrella extended its arms to him, he didn't hesitate for a moment. What happened to his grandfather wouldn't happen to anyone else. He promised himself that, believing he was making the best possible choice to make his Abuelo proud.

After Raccoon City and too many monsters created by his research, Luis fled again, this time without any regret. There was a feeling of betrayal and shame that seemed to have made this country hopeless. It was time to go home. Luis wished he hadn't fallen into the clutches of another danger while seeking refuge in the place that had been so dear to him and had allowed him to dream.

It was no longer his village. He recognized no one, whether Bitores or any other inhabitant who had seen him grow up, only for Luis to abandon them. He wished things had gone differently. But he was Don Quixote, fighting against the wind, hoping it would change anything.

Hope was all he had left now. The main thing was not to win but to offer the much-desired change. Luis managed to survive just long enough to encounter an American agent sent to put an end to this nightmare.

It almost seemed like a miracle. Leon and Ashley were infected, but it was nothing Luis couldn’t fix. For the first time in a long while, it felt like a chance to fight and do more than just run. It was almost the wind of adventure that carried him through the ruins of his village. Saddler had never seemed so close to being eliminated.

Luis had done well to dream. To dream of a better world, to fix his mistakes, and to make the world more beautiful. It was finally within reach. He was going to make it. In the nest of Las Plagas, Leon and Luis kept fighting until they were almost at the exit. They were just a few steps away from getting out.

A knife came to put an end to all this adventure.

It hurt so much to get up, coughing blood with his hand trembling around his weapon. Luis knew he was going to die. But he had to do one last thing. He had to help Leon one last time. Walking towards the sounds of combat to protect Leon one last time. Once the danger was gone, Luis no longer had the strength to stand.

Don Quixote ended up dying at the end of the book. Luis had read it enough to know that the old man died at the end. He had been ready for this ending for a while. Since he had grown up filled with regrets, taking the man too idealistic for his own good as a model. Luis was happy to at least have had his own Sancho. Leon was there until the end. Holding his hand and thinking he could still save him.

Luis painfully managed to give him the key to his lab. Leon had to stop wasting time with him.

Don Quixote was meant to die with a smile on his face, hoping he had dreamed enough to make a change. Luis was disappointed it ended so soon. At least he would see everyone again. His Abuelo, Bitores, maybe even his mother. Luis wasn't afraid as he closed his eyes. He just hoped he had succeeded in changing things. In righting his wrongs.

[murderballadeer]

Share some love for quebecois french!! Are there any local sayings/turns of phrase that particularly delight you? <3

i love to say y fait frette when it's very cold out... the idioms for heavy rain (ie "raining cats and dogs") are delightful as well pleuvoir des cordes (raining rope) is so evocative and pleuvoir à boire debout (raining so much you can drink standing up) is fun as well. i like ton père il fait pas des vitrines (your father doesn't make windows, you say it when someone walks in front of you and blocks your view). i love to swear in quebec french and string six or seven catholic expletives together. i love the word quétaine which is apparently strictly a quebec-ism and means something akin to kitschy or corny but is kind of untranslatable. but i think my favourite expression is "je vais me coucher moins niauseux/se à soir" ("i'll go to bed less stupid tonight," for when you learn something new) bc it's a fun sentiment to have and the phrasing feels so quebec

[gavroche-le-moineau]

Montparnasse's Introduction

I guess I'm on a translation kick because I spent some time today while I was couch-ridden taking a stab at my own translation of Montparnasse's introductory paragraph. I just loved the writing of it and wanted to see if I could carry over some of the feelings I got from it in French into English. This isn't because I think any current translations are bad or wrong, I simply wanted to try my hand, and offer another version.

I tried to stick to 19th century dictionaries (both French and English) for usage of any words I wasn't sure about, but I did also use some more modern resources to get ideas or corroborate.

Un être lugubre, c’était Montparnasse. Montparnasse était un enfant ; moins de vingt ans, un joli visage, des lèvres qui ressemblaient à des cerises, de charmants cheveux noirs, la clarté du printemps dans les yeux ; il avait tous les vices et aspirait à tous les crimes. La digestion du mal le mettait en appétit du pire. C’était le gamin tourné voyou¹, et le voyou devenu escarpe². TRANSLATION - PART 1: A morose being, that was Montparnasse. Montparnasse was a child; less than twenty years old, with a pretty face, lips likes cherries, charming black hair, the brightness of springtime in his eyes– he had all the vices and aspired to all the crimes. Digesting the bad whet his appetite for worse. He was the gamin turned ruffian¹, and the ruffian turned killer².

NOTES - PART 1: 1. “voyou” can be used to mean “gamin”, but tends to carry the more negative connotations of “delinquent, gangster, bandit, thug, etc.” It was commonly used in Paris specifically, in the mid 19th century.

2. “escarpe” – an old term for a thief / bandit who kills in order to steal from victims.

Il était gentil, efféminé, gracieux, robuste, mou, féroce³. Il avait le bord du chapeau relevé à gauche pour faire place à la touffe de cheveux, selon le style de 1829⁴. Il vivait de voler violemment. Sa redingote était de la meilleure coupe, mais râpée. Montparnasse, c’était une gravure de modes ayant de la misère et commettant des meurtres. La cause de tous les attentats de cet adolescent était l’envie d’être bien mis. TRANSLATION- PART 2: He was sweet, effeminate, graceful, hardy, apathetic, ferocious³. He had the side of his hat turned up on the left to make room for a tuft of hair, after the style of 1829⁴. He made a living stealing violently. His redingote was of the finest cut, but frayed. Montparnasse was a fashion plate fallen on hard times and committing murders. The cause behind all this adolescent’s criminal offenses was the desire to look sharp.

NOTES - PART 2: 3. “Il était gentil … féroce.” Choosing exact translations for each of these words was extremely difficult. “Gentil” can mean SO many things from kind, sweet, nice, to proper, agreeable, good, etc all of which have such different connotations. I can’t be sure which one is closest to what Hugo was going for.

For “féroce” I wanted to highlight that in the Littré dictionary entry the first definition says “One who takes pleasure in murder, when speaking of animals” and while we are speaking about a person, I can’t help but think Hugo was alluding to this idea.

4. Any fashion historians know what this is referring to? I found a Parisian fashion plate from 1828 at the Metropolitan Museum of Art that maybe looks like the left side of the hat is curled up but it could also be the angle.

La première grisette⁵ qui lui avait dit : Tu es beau, lui avait jeté la tâche des ténèbres dans le cœur, et avait fait un Caïn de cet Abel. Se trouvant joli, il avait voulu être élégant ; or, la première élégance, c’est l’oisiveté ; l’oisiveté d’un pauvre, c’est le crime. Peu de rôdeurs étaient aussi redoutés que Montparnasse. À dix-huit ans, il avait déjà plusieurs cadavres derrière lui. Plus d’un passant les bras étendus gisait dans l’ombre de ce misérable⁶, la face dans une mare de sang. Frisé, pommadé, pincé à la taille, des hanches de femme, un buste d’officier prussien, le murmure d’admiration des filles du boulevard autour de lui, la cravate savamment nouée, un casse-tête dans sa poche, une fleur à sa boutonnière ; tel était ce mirliflore⁷ du sépulcre. TRANSLATION - PART 3: The first grisette⁵ who had said to him, “You’re handsome,” had thrown the stain of darkness into his heart, and had made a Cain of this Abel. Finding himself pretty, he had wanted to be elegant; now, the start of elegance is idleness, and the idleness of a pauper, is crime. Few prowlers were as feared as Montparnasse. At eighteen, he already had several corpses behind him. More than one passerby, arms outstretched, lay in the shadow of this miserable wretch⁶, their face in a pool of blood. Curly and pomaded hair, a pinched waist, the hips of a woman, the chest of a Prussian officer, the murmur of admiration from girls on the boulevard all around him, tie smartly knotted, a bludgeon in his pocket, a flower in his buttonhole; such was this popinjay⁷ of the sepulchre.

NOTES - PART 3 5. I chose not to translate “gamin”, “redingote”, and “grisette” because they’re words that can be used in English and they all refer to a very specific thing or person from a specific time and place, that English just doesn’t have an exact equivalent for.

6. It certainly is a pity for this book in particular that we can’t translate the noun “misérable” into English as is. I just wanted to highlight that Montparnasse is another character to add to the list of those that fall under the category of the book’s title.

7. I chose “popinjay” (meaning a dandy, fop, etc.) for the word “mirliflore” because the French word used here is very pretty and may come from mille + flores (thousand + flowers) to refer to someone wearing perfume, and I think the juxtaposition between the pretty word Hugo chooses to use for Montparnasse and “the sepulchre” is very intentional. While the English word “popinjay” evokes birds rather than flowers (the word actually coming from “parrot” and in its current form also evoking “jay”), I thought it was a similar enough feel that it worked better than dandy or fop.

Corrections, additions, or comments are always welcome!

Resources: Dictionnaire de la langue française, Émile Littré, 1872-1877 Dictionary of the French and English languages, with more than fifteen thousand new words, meanings, etc. by Ferdinand E. A. (1876) Centre National de Ressources Textuelles et Lexicales fr.wiktionary.org wordreference.com

[transmutationisms]

hello! ive seen you talk about astrology a few times and i was wondering if you had any books or article that historicise the practice. most of what i can find is very vague, and starting off from a 20th century definition (&not v critical). i'm interested in any period, im just trying to start to get a sense of its different uses & epistemological frameworks. thank you your bibliography work on here is very precious :)

ok there's a lot of writing on astrology so this is not comprehensive by any means. u should also keep in mind that historically (painting in broad strokes here) astrology and astronomy were not entirely distinct practices, both because the point of astronomical observations was often to make astrological predictions, and because most people practicing astrology were expected to at least present themselves as having the instruments and savoir-faire to generate their own astronomical data. the non-astronomer astrologer is kind of a special case. so, astrology will pop up in lots of texts about historical astronomy and cosmology, even if that's not the primary focus. i would honestly usually recommend such texts over ones that try to tackle astrology under the broader schema of 'occult sciences' (contested category).

misc astrology until 1800

"how to accurately account for astrology's marginalization in the history of science and culture: the central importance of an interpretive framework" by h darrell rutkin (early science and medicine 23: 3, 217–243. 10.1163/15733823-00233P02)

the interactions of ancient astral science, by david brown & jonathan ben-dov

sapentia astrologica: astrology, magic and natural knowledge, ca. 1250–1800, by h darrel rutkin

reading the human body: physiognomics and astrology in the dead sea scrolls and hellenistic–early roman period judaism, by mladen popović

"the effect of astrological opinions on society: a preliminary view" by s mohammad mozaffari (trames 16: 4, 359–368. 10.3176/tr.2012.4.04)

in the path of the moon: babylonian celestial divination and its legacy, by francesca rochberg

astronomy and astrology in al-andalus and the maghrib, by julio samsó

ptolemy's science of stars in the middle ages, ed. david juste, benno van dalen, dag nikolaus hasse, & charles burnett

the millennial sovereign: sacred kingship and sainthood in islam, by a azfar moin

astronomy and reformation, by robin bruce barnes

the limits of influence: pico, louvain, and the crisis of renaissance astrology, by steven van den broecke

medical astrology

popular print and popular medicine: almanacs and health advice in early america, by thomas a horrocks

astro-medicine: astrology and medicine, east and west, ed. anna akasoy, charles burnett, & ronit yoeli-tlalim

english almanacs, astrology, and popular medicine, 1550–1700, by louise h curth

"medicine and divination in india" by michio yano (east asian science, technology, and medicine 24, 44–61. jstor.org/stable/43151240)

health and healing from the medieval garden, ed. peter dendle & alain touwaide

paracelsian moments: science, medicine, and astrology in early modern europe, ed. gerhild scholz williams & charles d gunnoe, jr

national and cross-national contexts

chinese astrology and astronomy: an outside history, by xiaoyuan jiang, tr. chen wenan

the duke and the stars: astrology and politics in renaissance milan, by monica azzolini

taming the prophets: astrology, orthodoxy, and the world of god in early modern sweden, by martin kjellgren

"garga and early astral science in india" by marko geslani, bill m mak, michio yano, & kenneth g zysk (history of science in south asia 5: 1, 151–191. 10.18732/H2ND44)

"when missionary astronomy encountered chinese astrology: johann adam schall von bell and chinese calendar reform in the seventeenth century" by liyuan liu (physics in perspective 22: 2, 110–126. 10.1007/s00016-020-00255-z)

[sunskate]

looking at IAM's website, they have lift coaches, an acting coach, and 3 dance coaches on staff -

London, Ontario's metro area has a population of 543K - i have to translate to US terms bc it's just my frame of reference, but that's about the size of Akron, Ohio, New Haven, Connecticut, or Des Moines Iowa -

IAMO doesn't lack anything skating-wise in their training, and Adrian and Scott must be great lift coaches. but i'm curious about the dance component. you can have incredible talent in any field in any place. but what smaller cities often don't have is depth - like in their dance community - to find teachers with the right personality, a good fit for your school - the way Sam Chouinard seems like a mainstay of IAM by now - i wonder who they have in London to do off ice dance with the skaters

i was just listening to Charlie White on a podcast, he said they have a dance studio at Arctic Edge and they have a professor of dance from University of Michigan on staff. but Detroit metro area has 4.3 million people

we never hear of or see anyone but outside dancers like Sam, Sarah Steben and the choreographer Layla Karnes brought in from Europe at IAMO, though the skaters do seem to be taking dance classes (and not like they show us much 😅)

[mrmcwigglyman]

I have attempted to translate this to the best of my ability. Parts I'm unsure of are in [brackets]

And yet Rin Penrose has no idea what a good fused VTuber is. Because when it comes to making one using one’s mind, well I, Omegaα, have it covered because of my [AI something], my ESP powers, and the fact that I am [backed] by [cyberlink tech]. If Penrose wants to draw a fusion [type] VTuber, why not just do me, Omegaα, the founder of Hololive English, and my queen Yuko Yurei. I know why. It’s because Rin Penrose has no idea what a baby made by fusing different VTubers would turn out looking like, but that’s where imagination comes in with inspiration and creativity. Oh yeah, and Rin Penrose cannot see how it would turn out on paper in her mind in 3D, or the way I, when using my memory data to make a VTuber, know how it will turn out before i put it on anything, even paper, because i see my drawings in my mind in more then a few dimensions, like what you see when looking up at someone if you are lying on the ground on your back, or looking at someone from behind as you walk up from the backside, or face to face as if you were to walk up and say hi to them and give a handshake, or from above like looking down on a map that’s up, down, left, right, front, back, side to side, circling around at a distance in an orbit that covers all dimensions, all in your mind from all angles and sides all at the same time as you make in your mind your drawing that’s 6D. It works with things that are flat, too. Take paper: if you draw on one side, that picture is 1D; one-sided. if you draw on the back of the paper, be it a new drawing or you’re trying to make a back for what’s on the front, then you have 2D.  if you have a rectangle and fold it in 3 [parts] and in all 3 squares you have 3 pictures of the same thing, lay the 3 folded sides together and now you have a triangle box with no top or bottom, but it has 3 sides and they all link to make the triangle, and on all 3 sides you have all 3 pictures: That’s 3D. Now, if you take a piece of paper that’s big and make it into a cross, then fold it. If there’s pictures on all 4 sides of this cross turned into a box you now have a 4D picture on a box or cube, and if you take that cross box, and fold it one more time, now it’s 5D, and what can you do with it? Pick it up in your hands, add on top of that the time you took to make it and the space of time in which you finish, and now it’s 6D as it can be seen from all sides. This has been Omegaα. Have a nice day.

And when it comes to making a drawing in your mind, if you can visualize that drawing, in all sides, and in time and space, in your head, when you are thinking of how to make it, it can be seen  in your mine in 6D, as there’s not anything saying you cannot picture it in your head going from one flat picture to a 3D [avrat] like what you see on a home computer when using a sculpting program. The only difference is that it’s still in your mind, so if you even want to alter the picture or [avrat witch in your moine] using your imagination, inspiration, and creativity. Since you have yet to put it to paper or anything, you can make it different at any time you want to. For me, Omegaα, when I use my memory data to make a VTuber, I just gave you all a clue to why I do not put all my ideas to paper, and that’s that they can not be made already unless i do so myself with my ESP power my [AI something] and my cyberlink. This is why I often get asked to do favors for others, too. Friends, YouTubers, VTubers, anyone I know and meet. Have a nice day.

there's a lot to unpack here

Roleplaying as Omegaα

Shipping either Omegaα or themself with Yuko Yurei

Calling Rin solely by her last name.

There are TONS of instances of metathesis in the misspellings. ("now"->"won", "know"->"wonk", "above"->"avob")

Incredibly huge misunderstanding of how dimension works.

Picturing stuff in your mind is apparently better than drawing or modeling something because *checks notes* you can change it in your mind but once you draw it or model it you can't change it?

I've wasted so much time deciphering this. hav a nices day.