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#page 572
pesterloglog · 2 months
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Rose Lalonde, Kanaya Maryam, Jade Harley
Page 565-572
ROSE: Kanaya,
ROSE: It looked for a moment back there as if you were going to actually go through with our "Mutilate The Hostage Beyond Recognition" ruse.
ROSE: With Yiffy rescued and the other children absent, might now be an appropriate time to... hash it all out?
KANAYA: Mm
KANAYA: And What Do You Feel Needs to be Hashed Exactly
JADE: ugh... well
JADE: kanaya i know you havent been very happy and youre probably super frustrated
JADE: but first off i want to say thank you soooo much for putting everything aside to help us
JADE: youre the reason i have my girl back!
JADE: and with minimal bullet holes too! haha
KANAYA: Ha Ha Ha
JADE: ... also... you have every right to be angry!!
JADE: this isnt a little white lie, its a whole bed of secrets which then became an entire child
JADE: but whatever it takes to earn back your trust ill do it!
JADE: ever since we first met ive respected you, felt cared for by you
JADE: i hate how i returned that kindness...
ROSE: Jade.
JADE: and of course you arent obligated to ever forgive me but... i dont want to lose you too!
JADE: i love you kanaya
JADE: youre my family
KANAYA: You Fucked My Wife
ROSE: Exhales.
KANAYA: My Apologies Jade
KANAYA: That Was Very Brave And Of Course Extremely Forthcoming Of You
KANAYA: A Refreshing Change Of Pace From The Ongoing Process Of Haggling The Truth Out Of The Two Of You Detail By Sordid Detail Following The "Yiffy Reveal"
ROSE: Implying we are leaving out information that could remedy this situation.
KANAYA: Implying
ROSE: Sorry.
KANAYA: I Didnt Want You To Remedy The Situation
KANAYA: I Wanted You To Own It
KANAYA: Instead You Let John Lead The Conversation With His Stupid Questions
KANAYA: And Sprinkled Out A Gauche Attempt At A Tear
JADE: but-
ROSE: A bit shameless perhaps.
JADE: !
KANAYA: It Was Theatrical
KANAYA: Well Unlike John I Am Not A Stranger To Your Lives
KANAYA: When You Feed Me Some Half Baked Lie About Karkat And Dave Wanting To Adopt I Know Better
KANAYA: And Though That Travesty Of A Name Is Undoubtedly An Incomprehensibly Offensive Piece Of This Particular Puzzle
KANAYA: What I See Is Not An Explanation
KANAYA: But A Glossing Over Of The Worst Detail
ROSE: Jane.
KANAYA: Rose That Woman Is Going To Ruin The Future For Our Daughter
KANAYA: And You Snuggled Into A Secrets Bed With Her
KANAYA: For So Long I Couldnt Convince You To Share A Cup Of Tea With Jade
KANAYA: Then Years Later You Happen To Grow A Sympathy Gland And Decide To Jump Right To Sharing Offspring
JADE: its my fault kanaya! she was the only option i had left...
KANAYA: Sure Let Us Go With That Considering Your Stated Distaste For Ectobiology
KANAYA: Thats Only Suitable For Trolls Correct?
JADE: no!
JADE: everyone deserves a choice
JADE: but...
JADE: i already have an entire kingdom of ecto-children
JADE: this had to be different
ROSE: No one wants to contribute to the off brand doppelgangers strolling the streets.
ROSE: Easily the worst aspect of this place.
KANAYA: Is That Why You Acquiesced
KANAYA: ?
KANAYA: Because I Am Stumped On That Part As Well
KANAYA: If Memories Serves When We Were Adopting Vriska
KANAYA: I Mentioned The Precarious Possibility Of A Jadedavekat Brood
KANAYA: What Is It That You Said Again
ROSE:
KANAYA: I Believe Your Approximate Verbiage Was That "Their Dysfunctional Human Centipede Of A Relationship Is Soaking With Lighter Fluid And Begging To Burn" And That You Would Feel Sorry For The Grub
KANAYA: Jades Qualities Rang Too Familiar Right
KANAYA: Evasive
KANAYA: Pushy
KANAYA: Lacking In Proper Coping Mechanisms
KANAYA: Carrying An Air Of Unspeakable Sadness
KANAYA: The Poor Kid
ROSE: Congratulations.
ROSE: You've managed to exhume the solemn cadaver of my mother's memory and make her the star of another argument.
KANAYA: As If You Ever Bothered To Bury Her
ROSE: What does this have to do with anything!?
KANAYA: What I Am Doing Is Demonstrating That I Have No Intention To Mediate This Situation
KANAYA: Or Pacify It
KANAYA: Or Even Be A Little Bit Nice Right Now
KANAYA: So Perhaps Youll Actually Take Me Seriously For Once
KANAYA: Instead Of Assuming You Can Pull The Baabeast Keratin Over My Eyes And Distract Me From The Awful Reality
KANAYA: That You Trusted A Monster Over Me
KANAYA: And Cant Even Tell Me Why!
ROSE: And if you don’t like the answers?
KANAYA: That Is Future Roses Problem
ROSE: I see...
ROSE: Ok.
JADE: (ok...?)
ROSE: I want it on the record, involving Jane was not my decision.
ROSE: But it was a pre-established requisite that I did not fight against.
ROSE: It is Jade’s child after all.
ROSE: And you’re not completely wrong, either.
ROSE: I may have felt some... pang of responsibility. For a litany of psychologically revealing reasons.
ROSE: But more than anything else, I took her up on it because it felt oddly
ROSE: inevitable.
ROSE: Anyways,
ROSE: Deep down, I knew it didn’t matter.
ROSE: However we handled it.
ROSE: Whatever hurt we caused.
ROSE: It was never that serious.
ROSE: I knew you would forgive me.
KANAYA: Rose
KANAYA: When Did You Stop Trying
JADE: yeah rose!!!!!
JADE: what the fuck!!!!
JADE: this is not what we discussed...
JADE: you're devaluing kanaya's feelings, minimizing our impact on her!
JADE: woah, im defending you!!!
KANAYA: NO
KANAYA: YOU ARE PISSING ME OFF
JADE: b-but i just dont want things to get even worse!!!!!!
KANAYA: Then Stop Pretending That My Feelings Are Top Priority
KANAYA: AND TRY BEING HONEST FOR ONCE
JADE: WHAT DOES IT EVEN MATTER!!!!!!!
KANAYA: Excuse Me?
JADE: you heard me!
JADE: you were wronged kanaya!
JADE: the truth cant change that
JADE: saying it just fucking hurts more
JADE: what does that accomplish?
JADE: its so embarrassing, would you even get it if i had?
JADE: you havent been alone since we were thirteen
JADE: and the first chance you got you packed up your cosmic purpose and hid away in the brooding caverns
JADE: you have no idea what its like out there
JADE: how traumatizing dating regular citizens was
JADE: imagine trying to love someone who already knows every available detail about you
JADE: who has *opinions* on what happened to you as a child
JADE: who assumes youre indestructible
JADE: newsflash it fucking sucks!!!!!!! because no matter how nice they were
JADE: they didnt want to know me
JADE: they wanted to date the god of space
JADE: and i felt SORRY
JADE: for disappointing *THEM*!!!!!
KANAYA:
ROSE: I had my suspicions but I had no idea it’d been that bad.
ROSE: You didn’t even hint at it.
JADE: why would i?????
JADE: so everyone could lecture me again on how "bad" my "boundaries" are?
ROSE: (I did that one time.)
JADE: you want bad boundaries
JADE: do you know how many people would be waiting outside public bathrooms to talk to me about their problems?
JADE: this one guy randomly started apologizing because they cooked their hamster in the microwave!
JADE: and they looked so sad... i had to hug them and say it was ok
JADE: but it was not ok!
JADE: they murdered their hamster!
Rose: Ugh...
JADE: and their other hamster killed itself
KANAYA: JADE
JADE: out of loneliness!!!!!
KANAYA: GET TO THE POINT
KANAYA: !!!!!!!!
JADE: millions of people told me they loved me
JADE: but i was never a real person to them
JADE: i couldn't let that happen to yiffy too
KANAYA: What
JADE: i had to save her kanaya!
JADE: give her the chance to grow up as a normal kid with a normal life
JADE: not one where people would befriend her to get close to me
JADE: or fucking bark at her while walking down the street!!!!!!!
JADE: and jane had the resources to provide that
JADE: every scare weve had she was able to cover up
JADE: she literally controls the media for christs sake
KANAYA: We Could Have Figured It Out
KANAYA: Indebting Yourselves To The Second Coming Of The Condescension Was Hardly The Only Answer
KANAYA: I Was Right Here
JADE: thats true but
JADE: you could have said no
JADE: or worse
JADE: i can live with rose doing this because she wanted to see what would happen
JADE: but i couldnt stand the idea of owing my kid to the fact you felt sorry for me!
JADE: especially after the dave and karkat... situation...
JADE: i couldnt do that again
KANAYA: We Could Have Helped You If You Let Us
JADE: i needed a fresh start, not to sit around taking care of grubs and watching shitty romcoms forever and wasting away in an empty house!
JADE: i wanted to live!
JADE: and living here is already so hard
JADE: and not only because of the war or what happened to dirk or whatever the hell is wrong with john
JADE: the world is fucked!!!
JADE: and yet, despite all that, yiffy turned out to be so good
JADE: and she's mine.
JADE: yiffy exists because i needed her to.
JADE: ... shes the only future i have left
KANAYA:
ROSE:
JADE:
KANAYA: Jade I Recognize You Have Had To Sacrifice Principles To Survive
KANAYA: And That Is Hard To Live With
KANAYA: Even Now I Can Sympathize
KANAYA: But 15 Years
KANAYA: ?
JADE:
KANAYA: Even If I Didnt Want Her
KANAYA: She Was Already Here
KANAYA: So Why Make It Worse
KANAYA: Why Perpetuate The Lie
JADE: i...
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professorlegaspi · 10 months
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The way Melissa Gunther addresses the colonization inherit in tying the Demsne’s history to white settlers by saying “don’t worry about it 😘”
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spookyfoxdreamer · 10 months
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growingupgerudo · 10 months
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Adult Arc: Pages 570-572
<—PREVIOUS | ARCHIVE | NEXT —>
New update, new update!
Support us on Patreon and read ahead in Adult Arc + bonus content!
Read Growing Up Gerudo on Webtoons!
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dizscreams · 1 year
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Instagram Posts If You Were Dating Jack Champion PT. 2
the way I’m struggling to find stuff on Pinterest is embarrassing LMAO so if anyone wants to send me stuff that I can use for these I’d be appreciative cause I like doing them!!
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liked by jackchampion, misstrinitybliss, and 95,284 others
y/nnn763 Minecraft night 🤭 @ jackchampion
misstrinitybliss looks fun! 🤍
jackchampion she died a million times
| y/nnn763 you weren’t protecting me
| jackchampion how am I supposed to protect you from falling off a cliff?!
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liked by y/nnn763, misstrinitybliss, devynnekoda and 423,637 others
jackchampion taken by @ masonthegooding
view all 237 comments
devynnekoda aww! surprised mason actually put up with you guys
masonthegooding not willingly
| y/nnn763 you act like we threatened you or something 😒
| masonthegooding YOU THREATENED TO TAKE MY DOG??
| jackchampion LMAO I remember that
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liked by jackchampion and 100,672 others
y/nnn763 happy Valentine’s Day! My boyfriend is cheating on me with a balloon! ❤️ @ jackchampion
view all 137 comments
jackchampion NOO you said you wouldn’t post it :(
| y/nnn763 you look cute don’t worryyy
| jackchampion the balloons a better kisser than you
| y/nnn763 BRO??
| y/nnn763 i hate you.
| y/nnn763 on my own page too wtf
| y/nnn763 blocking you
| jackchampion WAIT NO
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liked by masonthegooding, misstrinitybliss, thebutterschronicles and 247,873 others
y/nnn763 he’s spiderman!! (he’s a dork)
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masonthegooding nerd alert
| y/nnn763 dont ever say that again
user9273 surprised Jack hasn’t commented yet
| y/nnn763 i know :(( I’m sad
| y/nnn763 OH WAIT I BLOCKED HIM AHAH
| thebutterschronicles You’re mean.
| y/nnn763 unblocked! <3
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liked by y/nnn763, lianaliberato, devynnekoda and 362,135 others
jackchampion I love snow! ❤️ @ y/nnn763
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lianaliberato what am I looking at here?
| y/nnn663 HE ATTACKED ME
| jackchampion YOU LITERALLY TRIPPED
| y/nnn763 BULL
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liked by y/nnn763, misstrinitybliss, and 237,119 others
jackchampion This is Thomas! He’s my kid
view all 374 comments
misstrinitybliss aww
jasminsavoybrown his picture looks so professional
| jackchampion thank you 😎
y/nnn763 what if I stomped on him
| jackchampion You wouldn’t dare.
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liked by jackchampion, masonthegooding, and 153,738 others
y/nnn763 he’s scared lol @ jackchampion
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masonthegooding loserr
user682 aw poor Jack
ethanlandrysgf have fun!
baileybass make sure he doesn’t puke
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liked by y/nnn763, masonthegooding and 178,539 others
jackchampion she made me go on the Ferris wheel cause she chickened out on going on other roller coasters
view all 293 comments
y/nnn763 i hate you
| jackchampion I love you too
masonthegooding LMAO HE EXPOSED YOU
| y/nnn763 IM GLAD YOU THINK ITS FUNNY MASON
| y/nnn763 we’ll see how funny it is when I take your dog
| masonthegooding WTF
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liked by jackchampion, misstrinitybliss, baileybass, and 284,423 others
y/nnn763 go watch avatar the way of water right now 😠 @ jackchampion
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jackchampion YEAHH!!
misstrinitybliss true!
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tainted-liquor · 9 months
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⋆。°✩For Sale?⋆˙
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1610!Miles Morales x BlackFem! Reader Tws: n word usage, suggestiveness? not rlly but yk Ingredients: sugar, kisses, and smiles ! (May contain lemon zest) (Fluff/ v slightly suggestive??) W/C: 572
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What's wrong nigga? I thought you was keeping it gangsta?
Miles had tried to avoid falling back in love after Gwen, pushing back and fighting even the slightest attraction to absolutely anyone. He refused to go through the pain of being betrayed all over again, deciding the thug it out and drown himself in his life as Spider-Man. But that all changed when he saw you, strolling through the mall with your beautiful melanated skin, perfectly harmonized face, and god your perfect laugh as you threw your head back and giggled alongside your girlfriends. Everything about you was on point, from your sleek and laid edges down to the very shoes you wore that complimented each and every aspect of your outfit. He watched in sheer awe as you rounded the corner, making your way closer toward him and Ganke with your four-person crew.
My baby when I get you get you get you get you I'ma go head to ride with you
When you and Miles began talking, he was an absolute sweetheart. A ride-or-die who wanted nothing more than to see that pretty lil' smile of yours. He spent what felt like euphoric years getting to know you, learning all of your interests and favorite things to do. He spent his time sketching your adorable face on a couple a lot of pages in his sketchbook, gazing at your face every now and again to capture the small details in your face, such as your smile lines and low-set dimples. He made it his goal to make you his right off the bat, thinking "Yeah, she'll bring peace" almost as soon as he saw you lmaooo.
Smoking lokin' poking the deja till I'm idle with you 'Cause I (want you)
When he finally came clean with his feelings toward you, the relationship was as sweet as cake, and twice as euphoric as any high. He made jokes about you being like some sort of doja, actively relapsing back to his sugar-fed addiction every time he caught a glimpse of those big, deep brown almond eyes. He became a quick victim to your captivating aura, praising you like some sort of earth-bound goddess whenever you were around.
"You're literally so gorgeous, mi alma. How did I get so lucky?"
You looked me in my eyes about 4 5 times Till I was hypnotized then you clarified
Miles loved absolutely everything about you, and felt himself grow shy and warm under your heated gaze. When you two were pressed up against each other, holding one another like a precious artifact as you placed gentle kisses on the others face. He swore up and down he was in some sort of spell, eyes glued tight to yours, watching your every move like his life depended on it. He internalized the way your smooth skin felt underneath the pads of his fingertips, how they fit like the missing piece of a puzzle when resting against your upper waist. He laid his head on top of yours as you smushed the side of your face into his chest, attempting to get impossibly closer to your boyfriend as you let out a content sigh.
"Miles?"
"Yes, love?"
"What do you love about me?"
He took in a deep breath as he sat up, pulling you with him as he prepared to do 4 hours worth of talking
"Mi Vida,
I want you more than you know."
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i kinda hate this but its whatevs <<333
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Writeblr Intro
Hi everyone! I'm starting a new blog to chronicle my thoughts as I work on my current WIP. I've been on tumblr for a while but this particular blog is brand-spanking new. I'm really just doing this for me but I wouldn't mind making some writeblr friends to gush about our wips together. So without further ado...
My name is Kate (she/her) and I mostly write fantasy with the occasional sci-fi project on the side. I love epic high fantasy (in the vein of LotR or Wheel of Time) and YA fantasy romances equally.
Funny enough, my current project is none of those things. I thought I was writing a YA fantasy for the longest time but once I finished writing my first draft I realized I hadn't included a single fantastical element.
It's more like a YA twist on a Shakespeare comedy than anything else -- if I had to pick a genre. Something like Twelfth Night, Cymbeline, or As You Like It. It's got a young women running from an arranged marriage, a b-plot to prevent a war, forbidden love, mistaken identity hijinks, a forest setting, bandits, a fairy-tale High Medieval backdrop, and it wouldn't be truly like a Shakespeare comedy without cross-dressing and queer characters.
I have several other wips on the go but this is the one I am furthest along on. As of yesterday I was 10% of the way through my second draft!!
I won't be posting full chapters of the wip because I am hoping to query it one of these centuries... but I will definitely be posting about the process (the good, the funny, and the tufts of ripped out hair) and sharing my favourite lines.
I write each draft in one giant MS Word doc. My first draft for this wip clocked in at 112 572 words (163 pages in 11pt Times New Roman) but I am trying to cut it down to around 80 000 for the second draft -- a feat, seeing as I am a chronic over-writer.
I would love to chat with fellow writers, particularly anyone writing in a similar genre but sci-fi, fantasy, YA romance writers and anyone really --writer or not -- is welcome if you are interested in watching someone else go through the revision process of writing a novel, or if the concept itself intrigues you. I am also happy to answer questions about first drafts and writing in general.
I'm not as well-versed in Shakepeare as I pretend to be so any avid fans of his comedies who want to talk about them are most welcome too!!
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sommerflue-22 · 1 year
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Little Things They Do...
Little things they do to show you they love you
Read the other parts: Part 2 // Part 3
Featuring: Eren Jaeger, Mikasa Ackerman, Armin Arlert, Jean Kirschtein, Connie Springer, Sasha Braus
Warning: Modern setting
Word Count: 572
Author Note
Something I wrote in a whim after listening to this song. No beta, we die like Erwin. These actions can be perceived platonically or romantically, whatever suits you. Let me know if you want me to write for other characters as well!
Read the next part here
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Eren
Eren will hover above you, as you're sitting down in your sofa reading your book or just scrolling in your phone. He'll ask you what you're reading, or if you found something interesting on twitter. He'll leave you alone if you're too immersed in what you're reading. He'll stay and sit next to you if you want to tell him about it. He loves hearing you talk about things that excite you, how your eyes widen, and your random hand gestures. You won't notice it at first, but Eren will crack a subtle smile that reaches his eyes.
Mikasa
Mikasa will let you sleep anywhere around her. She'll let you rest your head on her shoulder. She'll let you snooze on her lap. She'll cuddle you no matter what time it is, as long as she doesn't have anything else to do (you're her number one priority, so...) It doesn't really matter where you both are. You can be in your living room, in the library, in one of your friends' house, sitting next to each other during a bus ride. Mikasa will let you sleep and she will let you sleep as long as you need to.
Armin
Armin loves to leave you small notes here and there. You will find it everywhere. In between your textbook pages, inside your jeans pocket, taped on your lunchbox. He always have the time to scribble a few encouraging words and slip it somewhere for you to see. If he really has the time, he will write you a longer note or even a short poetry. Telling you how your laugh reminds him of the crashing waves by the beach, how your lips are as soft as the most expensive silk ever existing, how your hands are as warm as the summer breeze.
Jean
Jean insists he'll take you to wherever you need to be. You're heading to the convenience store down the street? He'll walk you there. You want to go to the library and stay there all night to study? He'll go with you (he will probably fall asleep a few times, but it's fine). You're visiting a friend somewhere far where you need to take the subway? Worry not, he'll drive you there. There's something about having you near him that makes him feel at ease.
Connie
Connie will probably send you songs that remind you of him. He'll text you the link and tell you, hey this song is really cool! You should listen to it! It doesn't have to be a romantic song, because what matters is how the vibe feels for him. He might send you a song by an unknown artist, with a language you both don't understand. However he'll tell you how he loves its tune, and how he wants to slow-dance to it with you forever and ever.
Sasha
You probably think Sasha will share her food with you but there's so much more to her than her love of food. She will give you the most random thing she found throughout her day. It can be a wild flower, a pretty round pebble, a penny, a safety pin, a Disney princess band aid, everything. She'll come to you, grab your hand, and drop something in your palm, kissing your cheek before walking away to do something else. They might be mundane, everyday stuff, but it has been something programmed inside her mind. Find something, give it to Y/N.
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I hope you like it! Please let me know what you think :D
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oyabun-draws · 1 year
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coc 2022 Day 1: The End
Transcription:
“’It’s too much for me.’
‘It would be too much for anyone.’” (page 571-572)
For this prompt I drew the last scene in Any Way the Wind Blows. It made me quite emotional to draw
also I didn’t want to simon’s wings because it would hide baz’s hands so I drew them tucked into his sweater; hence the wing? lumps? lol
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tetsunori · 6 months
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Almost a wrap of current exhibition in NYC. It’s purchasable from other cities, and the show catalogue is below. You can contact [email protected] and they’ll get back to you with details. Open 12-8pm at 572 Manhattan ave BK NY until October 29th.
https://www.flowcode.com/page/tetsunori
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tweedlebat · 7 months
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Part 8 of A Treatise of Embroidery, crochet, and knitting with illustrations
By George C. Perkins, Anna Grayson Ford, and M. Heminway & Sons Silk co circa 1899
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Please note, this book was written in 1899, and as such uses a racist term to refer to the dyes that were used for the thread. If you'd like to read more about this period in time, the term, and the stereotypes that the Victorians had, I've actually linked the wikipedia article here that goes more in depth. It's not the end all be all of it, but it's a good starting place for anyone wanting to educate themselves on the topic.
The alt text for the page on the left containing the actual embroidery pattern is written below:
Page 31. Lessons in Embroidery.
This is the chart for the embroider by letters/numbers diagram on this page.
La France Rose. (Pink.) Flower: 580 is shade number 1, 581 is 2, 0582 is 3, 582 is 4, 583 is 5, 584 is 6, 585 is 7, 586 is 8, 0432 is 9, and 432 is 10.
Leaves and stems.
Green:
570 is Shade letter A, 571 is B, 572 is C, 573 is D, 436 is E, 437 is H, 438 is I, 439 is K.
Old Red: 233 is M, and 234 is O.
Rose Design.
Materials. — M. Heminway & Sons' Oriental Dyes, Japan and Spanish Floss.
La France Rose. — 580 to 586, 0432, 432, a645, 0645. Leaves. — 570 to 573, or 0428 to 430, or 436 to 439 Japan Floss ; 233, 234 Japan Floss. Scallop. — 691 Spanish Floss ; also 370 Japan Floss.
Description. — Work the top petals of rose with 0582, 582, shading darker underneath where the leaf turns over with 584, 585. The turn-over leaves make of the lighter shades, 580, 581. A very little of green, 0432 and 432, can be used with effect in one of the lower petals, running the green into the light pink. Also in the fallen petals of rose use these greens with yellow, a645, 0645.
Leaves. — Shade the same as Design No. 138 on page 37, using the red-brown, 233 and 234, for thorns and stems.
Scallop. — Long and short buttonhole with 691 white Spanish Floss, shading with 370 Japan Floss.
In any La France design containing buds just bursting, use darkest shades of pink, 585, 586
There is an illustration of a doily captioned Design No. 239— Double Rose. 22 inch. It has three large roses and one small one paired with one of the larger ones flowing clockwise around the doily. there are also some petals shown scattered from one of the roses as well.
There is also a diagram for the rose captioned Spray of Design No. 239. Showing Slant of Stitches. The stitches curve in the direction of the leaves and petals. I will list off the shade letters/numbers as follows:
The stem begins in D with a thorn done in O emerging on the right, and another one a ways above it emerging on the left. A small sprig of three leaves emerge from the right.
Starting from the upmost leaf which is curled and emerges from the leftmost side of the sprig, we will go row by row.
1st Row, the furled underside of the leaf: A 2nd row onwards, the upper side of the leaf: C, B. 3rd Row: B, C. 4th Row: M, D.
Next leaf, Sprig tip leaf, rows from tip to base:
1st Row: C. 2nd Row: B, A, B. 3rd Row: B, A, A, C. 4th Row: M. 5th Row: C, D, D.
last leaf, bottom leaf but the rightmost leaf on the sprig.:
1st Row: D, A. 2nd Row: C, D, B. 3rd Row: B, B, B, A. 4th Row: A, A. 5th Row: M.
Back to the main stem, we go upwards and there is a thorn done in M just before another sprig emerges from the left. This one does not have any lettering so I would go by the previous pattern or improvise. It does show the lines of the stitches curving with the leaf.
The Stem continues in D with two more thorns on the right side done in M. The receptacle of the flower, aka the green part where the petals emerge from, starts in M and then transitions to C.
There are sepals, the tiny leaves around the flower base, with one on either side. The tips are twisted to reveal the underside and done in A, while the bases are done in B.
Onto the actual rose,
Right bottom outer petal which is opened and nearly totally sideways, done in rows working upward from the bottom to the top.
Row 1: 10, 4, 2, 2. Row 2: 9, 3, 5, 5, 3. Row 3: 5, and the curled over top part of the petal is 3.
Left Bottom outer petal:
Row 1: 2, 3, 7, 6. Row 2: 5. Row 3: 2, 4, 4, 7.
onto the next set of petals, there are three this time emerging from the bottom two:
Left outer Petal:
Row 1: 3, 7, 6. Row 2: 2, 5, 6. Row 3: 2, 4, 3. Row 4:3. Row 5: 3, 5. Row 6: 5. Row 7 has just a slight furl to it which is done in two.
Center Outer Petal:
Row 1: 3, 2, 3, 4. Row 2: 3, 4, 4, 3, 5, 6. Row 3: 5, 6. Row 4 is alternating furled and unfurled bits: 3 unfurled, 3 furled, 2 unfurled, furled and has no number but is likely 3.
Right Outer Petal:
Row 1: 7. Row 2: 5. Row 3: 4. Row 4: 3, 2. Row 5: 2.
Next row of petals, we'll be going right to left this time because the rightmost petal is actually sort of cutting in front of the previous petal and the center outer petal that we just did.
Right Center Petal, both sides furl and join at the center in a point, the left furl says 2, so I would guess the right one is also done in that as well even though it's not numbered.
Row 1: 6, 5, 7. Row 2: 5, 4. Row 3: 2.
Center Petal:
Row 1: 6, 7. Row 2: 5, 5, 4. Row 3 2 is a furled edge that goes diagonally upwards towards unfurled 3, 4, 3 is the unfurled tip of the petal, 2 furled rightmost bit diagonally upwards towards unfurled 3.
Left Center Petal. The edge of this one is completely furled and goes diagonally upwards to a point and comes down. It is done in shades 3 and 2. For the rest of the petal:
Row 1: 5, 6. Row 2: 3, 5. Row 3: 4. Row 4: 4. Row 5: 3.
Now there are three petals left to do and they emerge at a diagonal offset from the previous 3. With the next set, each petal is wider than the previous one, and the first petal is the small centermost petal of the rose while the next two are the outer petals, with the last one emerging from the center of the second to last petal and the corner of the Right Outer Petal we did earlier.
Center Petal: Row 1: 5. Row 2: 3, 4. Row 3 is furled but has no number, I'd go with either 2 or 3 judging from elsewhere in the diagram.
Center Outer Petal:
Row 1: 2, 2, 3.
Outermost petal:
Row 1: 4. Row 2: 3. There is some slight furling around the 3 which is unfurled, one of which is labelled 1. *******
The next few updates will be single page updates since the alt text is very long!
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kamikothe1and0nly · 1 year
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Mrs. Stinkbottom
Hello! I’ve come out of my cave to give you some art! On an old Mr. Snuggles character page over on DeviantArt someone said I should draw Mrs. Stinkbottom and since it’s been a bit since I’ve draw I thought it would be a good way to get me back into it. I also just love making little character pages like these. I shall hide back in my cave till I have the next art work to share!
Tag list:
@cowboypossume​@loverofallthingssmart​ @ruewen-and-rising​ @imaramennoodle​​ @sunset-telepath​ @cadence-talle​ @where-in-the-world-are-we-blog​ @disasterlesbianmarella​  @fanartofthelostcities​ @sofia-not-sophie​ @cowboypossume​  @lookingatmymoodring​ @dragonwinnie-kotlc​ @cloudivity​ @constellations-and-kotlc​ @squishmallow36​ @the-resident-gay​ @booksscienceandmath​​ @xanadaus​ @bluedoodles0​ @stellasencen​ @gaslight-gaetkeep-gayboss​ @crazedfangirl14​ @three-bunnies-in-a-trenchcoat​ @callas-pancake-tree​ @that-glasses-dog​ @nyxpixels​ @uni-seahorse-572​ @oracle-cookies-deactivated114070​ @fucked-up-mover-shaker​ @katniss-elizabeth-chase​ @frostedforestfairy​ (if you'd like to be removed/added let me know.)
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rd-eternity · 7 months
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Whumptober Oneshot: Day 3 Prompts - “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.” | Journal | Solitary Confinement | “Make it stop.”
Words: 3.4k
Summary: After hell, Theo finds the only way to keep his errant thoughts at bay is by writing. What follows is the five times he goes unnoticed by the pack, and one Liam searches for him when he goes missing.
Rain starts drumming on Theo’s windshield when he makes his way from the center of town, back to the safety of the preserve. Leaves are dead and on the ground now, leaving the forest patchy with sunlight during the day and devoid of life, but he has nowhere else to go. The sound of rain hitting the truck sends Theo to sleep easily, anytime he’s lucky enough to get it. When he parks the truck, pulling out the journal he bought almost a month ago now - needing a second after filling the first - the rain only pours harder, until the visibility beyond the truck is down to nothing. The only light in the pitch black is the light above him, shining on the pages and pages of lonely prose. Day 572 - no pack It’s finally cold out, but not enough for snow. Beacon Hills is lonely without it’s wolf pack and so am I.
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Sesquipedalian Adventures of the Self-Proclaimed Definitely not a Nerd (he's wrong though)
Word count: 119.6 Garwins (7058 words)
Summary: It's definitely still Garwin Day, alright? I'm not 24 hours late. Actually, I'm being more accurate because Ivy Day 2012 was March 29th. Anyway. There's a spelling bee at Garwin's school, and blonde 12-year-old problems ensue.
TW: swearing, suggestive humor
Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @faggot-friday @kamikothe1and0nly @nyxpixels @florida-preposterously @poppinspop @uni-seahorse-572 @solreefs @i-loved-while-i-lied @rusted-phone-calls @when-wax-wings-melt @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizzknees @abubble125 @hi-imgrapes @callum-hunt-is-bisexual @callas-pancake-tree @hi-my-name-is-awesome @katniss-elizabeth-chase @arson-anarchy-death @dizzeners @thefoxysnake @olivedumdum
On Ao3 or below the cut!
    Garwin absentmindedly flicks through the decks of Quizlet flashcards he’s been through at least a hundred times as teachers mill about the gym co-opted into a facsimile of a classroom. It’s not as though there are so many spelling-addicted nerds in this school that all of them couldn’t fit into a single actual classroom, but apparently this will look better on Canyon Crest’s Instagram page, so everything gets to become a logistics nightmare. 
    The nightmare has moved on from a never ending line of folding chairs, despite there only being need for forty-eight between the student participants and the proctors scoring each of their tests, and now it gets to feature the all-powerful ‘No Signal’ glyph plastered across the center of a projector screen, gleaming solidly as though taunting everyone that has contributed to causing this exact moment. 
    It’s still a long fifteen minutes until the proceedings are to officially begin at five-thirty, and the participants, told unsuccessfully to show up twenty minutes before anything interesting was to happen, have finally started to filter in. Shannon in-his-Spanish-class-Sophomore-year Turing and Gerry don’t-make-eye-contact-don’t-make-eye-contact Barker are among the first to join him. Let’s just say that it’s not particularly surprising they’ve arrived at the same time or that they choose to sit next to each other on the bleachers, quite noticeably not leaving room for Jesus.
    Garwin is only privy to their…canoodling…by the sheer coincidence of being at school the entire time at Science Olympiad practice. Even then, he was kicked out of there at five, leaving him to stake his claim to the most choice of homogenous plastic chairs. 
    It turns out, it doesn’t take long for Garwin to grow bored as his attention refocuses on the Quizlet cards that are his lifeline this evening. Thankfully, he’s saved from actually having to study—perpetually remaining in a state of pretending to study—as more victims file into the gym, slowly filling up the chairs. Even Shannon and Gerry realize at one point or another that they will be forced to disentangle their limbs as they stake out their own seats. 
    Gerry flashes Garwin a half smile as he passes, choosing the seat a row ahead to Garwin’s left. It takes everything in himself to not glare back. It seems as though one of them has moved on from that particular breakup a bit more than the other. Garwin is under no obligations to be civil, but it is generally good practice. 
    Especially when he finds Abraham James’ eyes boring daggers into his back. To be completely fair, Garwin didn’t realize when their English project meetings turned into dates. He still can’t exactly tell where the line lay. Though, in hindsight, the fact that they continued after the project was due should have been a better indicator than it was. 
    Garwin doesn’t recognize the swarm of likely freshmen that filter into the gym together, laughing boisterously and he’s stuck with the realization that he’ll be leaving the Science Olympiad team’s future in at least some of their unworthy hands. Not all of them, of course, but there’s only so many people around here that are willing to spend their free time studying instead of literally anything else. 
    And, actually, now that he thinks about it, he’s pretty sure one of them is actually on the Division B—sixth through ninth grade—Scioly team. Bethany, her name might be? It doesn’t really matter, but it helps to prove his point.
    Garwin turns away, his focus returning to the Quizlet deck that he hasn’t been through in its entirety once this evening, and he notices John from-his-Sweeney-class Shelley. AP Environmental Science isn’t a particularly difficult subject and the reason the scores are so bad is because everyone universally agrees upon this and chooses to not study, but the teacher makes the whole thing an unbearable pain in the ass. As such, the class becomes more about surviving the teacher, and, before long, the class and teacher are interchangeable. 
    Then Victor and Clay—god knows what their last names are—come bounding into the room, and let’s just say that just because they’ve somehow managed to get into Garwin’s calc class, there’s no way it didn’t involve copious amounts of teacher bribery because there’s no way either of them should be allowed to do the derivative of y = x. 
    At this point, the cycle of people showing up and Garwin vaguely recognizing most of them has dulled to extraordinary lows, so much so, in fact, that he’s opened up the Quizlet designed for last year’s countries round. It would have been as advertised on the can except whoever made the list wasn’t informed that Czechoslovakia isn’t a country anymore, so instead it got to be the round of countries along with one former country. Capital cities—between Ouagadougou, Phnom Penh, and Ljubljana—could be fun though. Transliteration from one language to another always has such wonderful results. 
    Garwin’s phone clock ticks over to 5:35 before the triumphant calls of victory echo throughout the gym at the technical difficulties being resolved, blazing a rectangle of bright white title slide of a presentation into everyone’s retinas. The proctors waste no time in fanning out to their assigned locations, and Garwin is surprised to see that all of the seats are filled—no, that’s not right. There’s still one left empty, being presided over by the wrathful eye of Sweeney. Whoever is the unlucky soul to arrive last is going to be in for a bad time, and Garwin feels a tinge of pity in the darkest recesses of his chest. 
    He’s ended up neither winning nor losing the lottery with Faber. It could be better, but Garwin’s never been particularly proficient at English on the macroscopic level, so it’s difficult to put in any more than the bare minimum of effort. 
    It’s nice that whoever planned this managed to coerce the principal into being the official announcer. It would be even nicer if Garwin genuinely believed that Morgan could spell USA. Not the fully spelled out version—the acronym itself. 
    “I would like to start by congratulating each and every one of you for making it this far. You’ve had to beat two thousand other students just to be in this room today.” He pauses for unnecessary dramatic effect. “I’m sure all of you are familiar with the rules for this evening, but just in case you aren’t, there will be four rounds. The first two are the theme rounds of Literary Devices, followed by Fossils. This is followed by a round where you will be presented with a word and have to identify whether or not it is misspelled before correcting it. The final two will then go head-to-head in a general knowledge round.” 
    Morgan shuffles his index cards before continuing, “Each word inside of the theme rounds will be read by me, followed by a definition and its language of origin, before I repeat the word once more. This will be read twice. If, for whatever reason, you need it read again, please raise your hand. After that, you will hand your paper to the proctor and the correct answer will be revealed on the slides. If your answer matches the slide, you get a point. The fifteen of you with the greatest number of points will go on to the second round, the six will go on to the third round, and, like I said, the top two will enter the fourth round. Points carry across rounds, so one bad round can still hurt you even after it’s over. Is all of that clear?”
    Nods slowly wobble out across the almost-crowd of students. Morgan waits five seconds longer than reasonably necessary before switching from his index cards to a stack of papers that invariably has all the answers. 
    “Before we start, just to make sure we all get the process, there will be a practice question. Your word is Chicago. Its definition is ‘a midwestern city located on the shores of Lake Michigan, also known as the Windy City.’ It originates from the Canadian French form of an Algonquian word. Chicago.”
    Morgan repeats all of that, being thoroughly tuned out by Garwin, who is instead wondering who is enough of a slut for College Board to use their practice question as the inspiration for the practice question for this. God, it would be so funny if this counted as copyright infringement. 
    The slide clicks over to the proper spelling, and Garwin passes over the scrap of unofficial paper over to Faber, who dutifully struggles to read his handwriting as he places the tiny plus in the left margin. One whole nanopoint. Garwin has never been so proud of himself. 
    “If everyone is good, let us begin with the first round. The first word is enjambment. Its definition is ‘the running over of a sentence from one verse or couplet into another so that closely related words fall in different lines. Lines stride over more than one line.’ It originates from French. Enjambment.”
    In the amount of time for Morgan to read that all again, pass the paper over, click the slide, and confirm that Garwin did, in fact, spell ‘enjambment’ correctly, he’s nearly ready to take his pencil and see what happens if he pushes it into his eye socket. 
    “Polysyndeton,” Morgan takes his sweet time stretching out each syllable. “The repetition of conjunctions in close succession. For example, from page six of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s novel The Great Gatsby, “the shining secrets that only Midas and Morgan and Maecenas knew.” It originates from Latin. Polysyndeton.”
    If it wasn’t nerd behavior to have a favorite rhetorical device, that would certainly be one of Garwin’s top choices. What does it do? Nobody knows. But it’s fun to use and fun to say, especially in front of people who don’t know what polysyndeton is so it sounds like he’s making up fancy new words for no reason, which is enough for him. 
    After the whole end-of-word housekeeping is over, Morgan flips through the pages on the pedestal in front of him, and Garwin could swear it’s an IPA chart. Not—not the beer kind of IPA. Not Indian pale ale. International phonetic alphabet. It’s basically a pronunciation guide on steroids. This next one is sure to be a hell of a word.
    “Caesura.” 
    Hm, what do you know? An absolute clusterfuck of a word that starts with a hard C sound and almost certainly doesn’t look like it should if the frantic IPA reference is any indication.
    “Pauses that occur within lines of poetry, either grammatical or rhetorical. It originates from Latin. Caesura.” 
    Something tickles at the back of Garwin’s memory, but he can’t access it, even when given the entirety of Morgan’s reread to try to unlock its secrets. He’s left with transcribing it as kaysuera which looks so inherently, viscerally wrong. The reveal of the proper answer is equal parts ‘that still looks painfully wrong,’ ‘I guess that does look more reasonable,’ and ‘holy shit I was thinking about the pronunciation of Julius Caesar. The Ides of March were two weeks ago. You have no reason to be thinking about his assassinated ass this evening.’
    That’s one point lost to the ether, but Garwin has to accept it and move on. There are many more points to be gained, so he can’t quit now. 
    “Metonymy. The use of the name of one thing for that of another of which it is an attribute or with which it is associated, such as ‘crown’ in ‘lands belonging to the crown.’ It originates from Latin. Metonymy.”
    This one is a return to form, which is to say that it made its way into Garwin’s Quizlet deck. He fills in the empty line with half a mind before he goes back to the doodles on the scrap paper that he has discovered are far more interesting than this competition. 
    As he’s having this exact thought, almost like he planned it in advance, Sophie Foster comes barrelling into the room, a deep blush splattered across her cheeks as she settles into the Sweeney seat, breathing heavily. Of course she’s been invited here. 
    In a cruel twist of fate, it was already decreed in the original rules handbook email—the same one that Dorktionary here inevitably did not read long enough to find out what time this was to start—that any late arrivals would not be extended the privilege of making up any missed words. That means, if he’s counting correctly, he’s three points ahead of the special Sophieflake, and, with any luck, she may get eliminated before that photographic memory becomes a real threat. 
    Her first real word, and, by extension, Garwin’s fifth follows quickly. “Synesthesia. A subjective sensation or image of a sense other than the one being stimulated. It originates from Latin. Synesthesia.”
    There are about fifty percent too many of the letter ‘s’ in there, but Garwin’s fairly certain that he’s managed to predict the most likely balance on the scale from too many to not enough. It’s soon revealed that this confidence is not unfounded with the answer being revealed to match his own. The image of the jumping powerline gif that makes sound fades from his mind as he refocuses himself for the next word. 
    “Synecdoche. A figure of speech by which a part is put for the whole, such as ‘fifty sail’ for ‘fifty ships’, or the whole for a part, such as ‘society’ for ‘high society.’ It also originates from Latin. Synecdoche.”
    Faber’s mouth curls into a smile, underlined with just enough malice for Garwin to question every life decision that brought him to this place. He knows that they went over synecdoche—and its much more reasonably spelled brother, metonymy—in class, but if it weren’t for the blessed gift of Quizlet, he would have been lost to the abyss. 
    He turns in the paper, and Faber seems to take pleasure in striking it out even before the answer is revealed. ‘Synechdoche’—the version Garwin submitted—is close enough to ‘Synecdoche’ that it should be accepted. It’s not like he went absolutely, unequivocally excessive with the letter ‘h’ like that one day in his Physics class following the Synecdoche lesson. At least he didn’t turn in Shyhehchhhdhohchhheh, and that should be worth at least half a point. A pity point, perhaps. A nanopoint. A pity-induced nanopoint. 
    Before Garwin composes enough of his simmering thoughts into a full-blown three hour video essay, the next word is upon him, and whoever built this list was not interested in pulling punches. 
    “Chiasmus. An inverted relationship between the syntactic elements of parallel phrases. For example, from stanza 34 of Oliver Goldsmith’s poem ‘The Traveller,’ ‘to stop too fearful, and too faint to go.’ It originates from Latin. Chiasmus.”
    This one quite notably did not appear in Faber’s poetic devices extravaganza, and, as such, it did not migrate to the All-Knowing Quizlet. Garwin gets to guess the spelling, which is more likely to turn out painfully. 
    When the answer is revealed, Garwin’s relief is nearly strong enough to be described as his soul leaving his body. There is no corner of himself that he wouldn’t sell in exchange for a point. 
    “Epistrophe. Repetition of a word or expression at the end of successive phrases, clauses, sentences, or verses especially for rhetorical or poetic effect, such as in Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address ‘of the people, by the people, for the people.’ It originates from Greek. Epistrophe.”
    Garwin makes gratuitous eye contact with Faber as he passes over his answer. It’s Faber’s fault that he was assigned a group presentation on “Sestina” by Elizabeth Bishop, whose form is entirely built upon its use of epistrophe. Sestinas are absolutely labyrinthine, and if Garwin has to explain it again, his eyes are going to rot out of his skull. 
    “Onomatopoeia. The naming of a thing or action by a vocal imitation of the sound associated with it, such as buzz and hiss. It originates from Latin. Onomatopoeia.”
    Maybe the person who made this set is more than a bit of a sadist. That many vowels next to each other is pretty much a linguistic orgy. 
    It also makes the properly spelled word carry an inherent sense of misspelling, which is far more significant. Somehow Garwin manages to pull every single one of those vowels out of his ass in the proper arrangement to gain a point, fanning the flames of his already overblown ego. 
    “Believe it or not, we’re at our final word.” Morgan smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.     
“Epistolary. Written in the form of a series of letters—for example, Bram Stoker’s 1897 novel Dracula. It originates from French. Epistolary.” 
    Garwin’s eyes narrow. He just recently finished reading the Dracula Sparknotes for his independent reading project. If it sounds like he has a lot of different English projects that are somehow all simultaneously relevant, well, that’s because Faber assigns a lot of shit. Including a 500 word essay that’s due tomorrow by 8 a.m.. Garwin hasn’t started it yet even if he should have because that would involve planning ahead, and he can’t have that. 
    The time between rounds is agonizingly long as each of the papers is copied into a spreadsheet to calculate the nine that are going to be forcibly ejected from existence. Sophie is not among them, much to the horror of literally everyone who ever existed. Shannon is, however, much to Garwin’s delight and Gerry’s dismay. She finds a nice place on the bleachers to make her new home because she obviously can’t be more than ten feet from Gerry at any given moment. 
     Garwin hasn’t realized until now that Melanie Thompson—his one and only ill-fated girlfriend from sophomore year that, if nothing else, forced him to go through a self-realization character arc into polyamorous homosexuality purely out of spite—is here. Or rather, was here would be more accurate. 
    John from APES is also eliminated, looking thoroughly dejected. He was probably just here for the dinosaur round. Maybe Garwin won’t be forced to sit through another spinosaurus monologue tomorrow. 
    “Our next round is the fossils round, and in addition to the names being read by me, I’ve been informed that images have been prepared on the slides. After this round, we will pause for a five minute break. Is everyone ready?”
    Significantly fewer heads are available to nod at this question, though it is kind of funny watching from the corner of Garwin’s eye Shannon nod from the bleachers. Like the opinion of her eliminated ass matters anymore. 
    “All right. Your first word is Astraeospongia, a genus of saucer-shaped Silurian fossil sponges having 6-sided stellate spicules and important as Paleozoic index fossils. It comes from Greek for ‘star sponge.’ Astraeospongia.” 
    The picture of a limestone-looking glob made of tiny stars appears on the screen. Garwin thanks those lucky stars that a word bank for only this round was published long ago, because scientific names would be a goddamn nightmare without it. Still, the vowel threesome is a bit tricky. It narrowly balances itself out by listening to Morgan struggling to pronounce the definition during both reads.
    He just as narrowly gets the point for that one, and refocuses his mind for the next one as a fishy-looking guy crawling out of the water appears on screen. Put simply, it’s friend shaped despite it being the reason we all pay taxes. 
    “Tiktaalik, a Devonian transitional fossil between lobe-finned fish like Panderichthyes and amphibious tetrapods like Acanthostega, discovered by Neil Shubin in Alaska. It comes from Inuktitut for ‘large freshwater fish.’ Tiktaalik.”
    This list was so clearly written by someone who was deep in a Dinosaur Train revival phase and was nowhere near expecting Morgan to be the one reading out these definitions that absolutely cannot be from a reputable dictionary. They don’t read like dictionary definitions. 
    Garwin nearly shoves his fingernails through his palm at missing the double a. There’s no reason he should’ve missed that. 
    “Arthropleura. Carboniferous millipedes that grew up to 2.5m long as a result of the higher oxygen levels present in the atmosphere at that time. It comes from Greek for ‘jointed ribs.’ Arthropleura.”
    The thing on screen is kind of like that one Wild Kratts episode where a king cobra looks them in the eyes, but 120% more millipede and 10% less threatening, with a similar cartoonish rendering of old CGI. 
    It’s also 1200% larger than it should have ever been allowed to become. The Carboniferous might have boasted 30% oxygen levels compared to today’s 21%, but that’s excessive by even those Meganeura-infested levels. 
    Garwin is almost so caught up in his musings that he forgets to submit his answer, but he gets it turned in just in time. 
    “Lambeosaurus. Herbivorous members of the family hadrosauridae that are known for their hollow crest and lived during the Late Cretaceous. Its name comes from Lambe’s lizard, from Lawrence Lambe and Greek. Lambeosaurus.”
    Garwin finds himself essentially putting the letters into a blender and unable to untangle them into an answer that makes sense. Eventually, he just erases the whole thing and calls it a ‘Lame-o-saurus’ because, well, it’s a hadrosaur. They don’t deserve respect. The only ornithischians who do are the ceratopsians because bird-hipped coolness is proportional to the number of stabby horns a dinosaur has, and Kosmoceratops wins that contest with almost no contest. It would be a good spelling word too. 
    The answer is revealed and Garwin gazes into the doodled hadrosaurid dinosaur’s blank eyes, contempt written plain across his face. 
    “Merycoidodon. An oreodont that somewhat resembled a pig in appearance and was native to North America during the Eocene to the Miocene. It comes from Latin for ‘ruminating teeth.’ Merycoidodon.” 
    That’s a bit of a departure from form. Paleozoic drug-induced fauna is consistently more interesting than ‘pig but slightly to the left.’ Garwin can only hope that the Cenozoic doesn’t take up too many words. Merycoidodon is a little annoying to spell at first, but once figured out, it’s stored quite nicely in the back of one’s knowledge bank. Garwin pulls it successfully out of said knowledge bank. 
    “Ichthyosaurus. Extinct marine reptiles of the Early Jurassic specialized for aquatic life by a streamlined body with a long snout, limbs reduced to small fins for steering, and a large lunate caudal fin. It comes from Greek for ‘fish lizard.’ Ichthyosaurus.”
    Fish lizard. What a bunch of absolute buffoons. It’s literally just a game of taking the stems and duct taping them together. Ichthy- could be difficult if it wasn’t ingrained in his psyche. Maybe that Quizlet was doing more harm than good. 
    “Coprolite—”
    Garwin stops listening, giggling to himself. You people put dinosaur shit on the list? And, more importantly, what the fuck is the middle vowel? Garwin eventually settles on ‘copralite’ which, unfortunately, single handedly dashes his dreams for receiving a point for a properly spelled word. 
    “Coelacanth. Extant lobe-finned fish that first evolved in the Devonian and are more closely related to mammals than to ray-finned fish. It comes from Greek for ‘hollow spine.’ Coelacanth.”
    Coelacanth is one of the words that just doesn’t sound like how it is spelled. Now, how it’s spelled is still a mystery, but coelophysis—a Triassic theropod dinosaur—implies that it’s somewhere near coelocanth. That still looks inherently wrong, but the oe vowel combination is not going to look normal anytime soon. 
    It’s also not going to get Garwin a point anytime soon, because he managed to not get the point for flipping the ‘a’ to an ‘o’. Can’t copralite and coelocanth just switch letters and everything balances out? Garwin’s spiral into depression has to wait, though.
    “Eurypterus. Silurian arthropods commonly called sea scorpions, though they are not true scorpions of the order Scorpiones. It comes from Greek for ‘wide wing’ or ‘broad paddle.’ Eurypterus.”
    A Jaekelopterus appears on screen where a eurypterus should be. They’re both sea scorpions, it just so happens that the former is three whole meters of sea scorpion compared to Eurypterus’s estimated maximum length of two feet. It could also technically be another genus like Pterygotus. The important part is that the picture is wrong and therefore this is all a lie. 
    Jaekelopterus, despite its not being in the officially published word bank, would be an absolutely lovely word to spell in one of these. Make the others suffer. Garwin is so consumed by the thoughts of this suffering that he nearly forgets to submit his own, correct, spelling of Eurypterus, which would have been a painful mistake. 
    “And we have already arrived at the end. Your final word is Sacabambaspis.” Morgan pronounces each syllable slowly, as though afraid of butchering its pronunciation. To be fair, he probably would be if he cared that much. “A genus of jawless, armored fish that lived during the Ordovician period, named after the village of Sacabamba, Bolivia. Sacabambaspis.”
    Whoever was given the responsibility to control the slides waited for Morgan to stop speaking before revealing the little doofus. Words are insufficient to describe how silly the little guy looks, but a defining feature is the eyes look like googly eyes. They have one fin—the tail fin that looks like it could be very accurately recreated in play-doh—the whole thing looks like it could be recreated in play-doh. And, of course, it doesn’t have a jaw, and instead it has a triangular mouth that hangs open. 
    Bothriolepis swallowed mouthfuls of mud and digested the organic matter inside, and Sacabambaspis doesn’t look far from that, although Placoderms like Bothriolepis existed in the Devonian, not the Ordovician. They’re united by their distinct look of never experiencing a single thought in their lives, which, honestly, sounds kind of pleasant. It certainly sounds more pleasant than this drudgery of spelling words. There’s not even a justifiable reason why this is a useful skill. Spellcheck exists and getting ruthlessly clowned upon by a Discord server can still happen because the stupid QWERTY keyboard is designed to be convoluted because people were typing so quickly, they’d jam the goddamn typewriters. 
    The five minute break that follows is much more like eight, and when it does end, the pool is narrowed down from fifteen victims to a mere six. Sophie is among the survivors, as is Abraham. Gerry seemingly got evaporated, bringing Shannon with him. Bethany did as well, but she’s taken Shannon’s place on the bleachers, watching each and every one of those remaining left alive, and it wouldn’t be surprising if she was responsible for a massacre in order to make herself the winner by default. 
    “Our next round will be a little different. We have a list of ten words, nine of which are typos from student papers and one of which is spelled properly. It is your job to identify if the word is spelled incorrectly, and then fix it. Is all of that clear?”
    In other words, it’s the most annoying type of true or false question. Garwin nods, calculating his chances across those remaining. There’s only one he doesn’t know, and he’s mostly convinced Victor and Clay got their hands on the answer key, because there’s no other justifiable reason they should have gotten this far. 
    Morgan takes this opportunity to go sit down, leaving the running of the slides to whoever was doing it already. There’s no need to read out atrociously spelled words. 
    The first is resluts. 
    Off to a great start. Garwins eyes narrow, thinking back to last year when he corrected this exact typo. It wasn’t, however, a student typo. It was a teacher typo, but it doesn’t make any sense that a US History teacher would be choosing the words. Maybe there was a Google Form for favorite typo submissions. Or maybe it’s a common enough transposition that none of this means anything. 
    Garwin corrects resluts to results and passes the paper back to Faber for grading, even if he already knows in his heart that he’s successfully gained that point. 
    The answer is revealed, and the slides click to an absolutely gorgeous second word: mauntaim. 
    It takes a second to realize that it once used to be mountain before it got corrupted. How it got corrupted will forever be a mystery because spellcheck should have caught and corrected it long before it made its horrible way to these slides. 
    Mountain, believe it or not, is not particularly difficult for Garwin to spell properly as he turns it in for a point. 
    The third word is regrettably less simple: Carribean. 
    Garwin can’t help but wonder if that was at all inspired by last year’s countries round, even if it isn’t a country in itself. It still has enough double letters to make everyone regret their life choices, but not much more than that. It’s just that seeing it on the big board makes Garwin question himself. He closes his eyes, trying to spell it without the pulsating insistence of that arrangement of letters, but it has slipped from his mind at the suggestion of the other. 
    It’s not the one spelled correctly, but he marks it as such. There’s something inherently wrong with it, but he can’t quite figure out what it is, let alone how to fix it. When the slide switches to the answer, Garwin buries his head in his hands, unable to cope with how he could have ever been so stupid. It’s Caribbean, goddamnit. He should have known that. 
    Wallowing in self-pity can only do so much good as the slides march forward. Diptheria. 
    Okay, first of all, what student has to write out ‘Diptheria’ and how is it possible that Coyle actually noticed that it was spelled wrong? Garwin isn’t convinced that Coyle even knows how to spell it properly, and he’s the one in charge of teaching microbiology. 
    It’s that exact class in microbiology that has impressed upon Garwin’s mind that it’s spelled diphtheria and it’s caused by Corynebacterium diphtheriae. He doesn’t remember much else. Pseudomonas fluorescens is fluffy and causes fin rot in fish. Does that count? 
    The slide ticks forward, and the disappointed groans are deafening. Little miss perfect Sophie Foster seems to be the only other one unaffected. Disappointing, but to be expected. 
    The next word is broccoli.
    That is, in fact, spelled correctly, and Garwin checks off the appropriate place on the sheet. He’s not sure who thought broccoli would be a difficult word, but he’ll take the point where he can get it after a five-second crisis where he has to question his entire belief system to triple check that it’s right. 
    And then the slide changes to colckwise. 
    Garwin has a very different kind of crisis seeing that. The kind of crisis that is accompanied by an aneurysm—which would be a lovely word for the next round. The kind of crisis that is also accompanied by vividly painful memories of his physics teacher telling him about a typo one of his former students, who is now a teacher here, made during a curriculum mapping meeting. On a whiteboard. This was not induced by a keyboard. 
    It’s pretty clear that it was just out there to make him angry because the proper spelling of clockwise is a single transposition away, and it turns out that it worked better than it had any right to be. 
    At least the next one, quater, is a funnier typo all around. 
    It’d be even funnier if he hadn’t found it on a college website. His lord and savior Yale would never do him dirty like that. It’s not even on a quarter system, so there’s next to no reason to even encounter the issue. 
    Then the slide turns to Green Papper, and Garwin feels the rage of a thousand suns boiling inside his chest and an undeniable urge to laugh and cry at the same time. The fact that it’s two words instead of just the one is mildly annoying, which is to say absolutely infinitesimal against the flood of Papper’s horror show. 
    It, um, isn’t difficult to fix the problem to pepper. Garwin hopes everyone else that has gotten this far has an equal lack of difficulty. It would be concerning if they did.
    The next is Illiniois. 
    Back to skirting around the countries round. Illinois already has enough vertical lines to make it look like the living embodiment of simplified loss.jpg, but adding one more bonus one can’t hurt that much. You just have to blame the French transliteration for what it has become. 
    The last, and almost least, flicks onto the screen. Liscense. 
    Garwin nearly throws his pencil down in utter defeat. It looks almost like it could be right, but he knows for a fact that it has to be wrong. Broccoli was correct, it had to be, so liscense has to be wrong. Do why doesn’t it look it? 
    He massages his temples before succumbing to the peer pressure and marks it as spelled correctly. If he hadn’t sold his soul to college apps, it would have left him at that moment. 
    Faber looks at Garwin, plainly disappointed in the abilities of his student, as he gets up to give the master of slideshows all of his final scores. The screen in the front switches to a spreadsheet of each competitor’s scores in each round, and Garwin watches and waits as they come filtering in.
    Morgan steps up to the podium once again, staring at the board like he’s new to public speaking. If he hadn’t been principal since the beginning of the last school year, Garwin might give him the benefit of the doubt, but he has no doubt left over. Morgan has absorbed all of it, and that means Garwin is allowed to make his own mental snarky commentary. 
    “As you can see behind me, our two finalists are—” Morgan pauses for dramatic effect, probably waiting for a drumroll that doesn’t come “—Sophie Foster—” he pauses for applause that doesn’t exist “—and Garwin Chang!” 
    Not sure why they’re in that order when they’re literally tied at 23 points out of 30 possible each, but you do you. Alphabetical order would have been reasonable. 
    The silence is deafening, despite that being a tremendously overused cliche. The only sounds are of chairs being moved so that the eliminated can either leave or make a home on the bleachers to watch the final tedious showdown. The one person he doesn’t know spends more than a standard amount of time staring at the back of Sophie’s head, his cobalt eyes glinting in the fluorescent lights. 
    Neither Garwin nor her majesty cephalosaurus are willing to move from the places they staked out so long ago. They’re logistically important, not a parasocial attachment formed through a weakly-held belief in luck. 
    “The person at the end of this fifteen-word round that has the most points will be the winner. The first tiebreaker will be the points scored in this fourth round, then the number scored in the third, and so on and so forth. I’ll read each term, definition, and language of origin twice before revealing the answer. Is that clear?”
    Garwin’s neck is starting to get tired from all the nodding. This is not difficult to understand. 
    His brain also locks down into emergency mode, fueled only by enough spite to want to destroy Sophie like the pathetic child she is. There almost isn’t enough space for commentary between all of the letters bouncing around in the alphabet soup of his mind.  
    “Eviscerate. To take out the entrails of, disembowel. It comes from Latin. Eviscerate.”
    “Syzygy. A roughly straight-line configuration of three or more celestial bodies in a gravitational system, such as a lunar or solar eclipse. It comes from Greek. Syzygy.”
    Garwin curses those lined up stars for choosing such a word to describe themselves. 
    “Acknowledge. To recognize as genuine or valid. It comes from Old English. Acknowledge.” 
    “Fluorescent. Bright and glowing as a result of luminescence that is caused by the absorption of radiation at one wavelength followed by nearly immediate reradiation usually at a different wavelength and that ceases almost at once when the incident radiation stops. It was coined by English mathematician and physicist Sir George G. Stokes. Fluorescent.”
    It would be so funny if his middle name was also George. It would be even funnier if Garwin manages to transpose the ‘u’ and ‘o’ and fail just now that he’s so close to triumph.
    “Bureaucracy. Government characterized by specialization of functions, adherence to fixed rules, and a hierarchy of authority. It comes from French. Bureaucracy.”
    “Sesquipedalian. Given to or characterized by the use of long words. It comes from Latin. Sesquipedalian.”
    Garwin’s going to have to remember that one for Faber tomorrow. If a word doesn’t have thirty percent more letters than strictly necessary, you better believe Faber has never said it in his life. 
    “Sovereignty. Supreme power especially over a body politic. It comes from Middle English. Sovereignty.”
    Something something James Madison something something AP Gov. 
    “Convalescence. To recover health and strength gradually after sickness or weakness. It comes from Latin. Convalescence.”
    “Vicissitudinous. Marked by or filled with the quality or state of being changeable. It, once again, comes from Latin. Vicissitudinous.”
    Wow, it’s almost like English was heavily influenced by French—quite noticeably a romance language—when William the Conqueror fucked shit up during the Battle of Hastings, 1066. 
    “Cubicuboctahedron. A convoluted shape where square faces and its octagrammic faces are parallel to those of a cube, while its triangular faces are parallel to those of an octahedron. It comes from Greek. Cubicuboctahedron.” 
    Someone involved in this folded their word of the day calendar into one of those. That probably doesn’t logically work that way, but neither does the word cubicuboctahedron.
    “Vacuum. The emptiness of space or a device creating or utilizing a partial vacuum. It comes from Latin. Vacuum.”
    Ah. A double-u that isn’t a ‘w.’ It’s almost like Garwin learned how to spell it in 4th grade and never looked back. He’s not sure anymore why there was spelling involved in a science class, but that doesn’t erase the useful part of the memory. 
    “Entrepreneur. One who organizes, manages, and assumes the risks of a business or enterprise. It comes from French. Entrepreneur.”
    Or, more accurately, the DECA team when they aren’t underage drinking. 
    “Feign. To give a false appearance of, or induce as a false impression. It comes from Middle English, after a very long line from proto-indo-European. Feign.”
    You know, some pie sounds really good right about now. 
    “Committee. A body of persons delegated to consider, investigate, take action on, or report on some matter. It comes from Latin. Committee. 
    “And for your last word of the night: borborygmus. Intestinal rumbling caused by moving gas. It comes from Latin. Borborygmus.” 
    Garwin was doing well until that point—hell, he thought he was doing well including that point, but boborygmus is not borborygmus, ruining his streak and hope for a perfect round. Still, maybe it’ll be enough to put Blondie back in her place. She’s a godforsaken twelve-year-old. She has no right to be anywhere near a high school, let alone being in half of his classes. He’s taking six APs at the same time right now, and his only other hour of the day is a study hall so he doesn’t devolve into a serial killer. 
    But it can’t be, can it? 
    The universe has divinely selected Sophie motherfucking Foster as its lord and savior, superior to all other beings that have ever been created or will be created. 
    Which is to say—she got a perfect score. Of course she did. Why should he have ever expected anything less?
    Garwin forces himself to breathe, somewhere between seething anger and complete despondency. But there’s no use getting mad when the game was rigged from the start. This just means he can refocus on Science Olympiad. Yeah. State is on Saturday. That might be a good idea. 
    And, well, it’s hard to feel anything other than mild annoyance while doing a titration until he starts drinking the titrant, and at that point, the HCl has already burned through his esophagus, so he has larger problems than losing at a pathetic little spelling bee. 
    Garwin picks up the shattered remains of his dignity, and kindly gets the fuck out of there. He’s spent enough hours in this hellhole for a single day, and now he gets to go do homework. Yippee. 
    As he returns home, he gets the day’s mail from the mailbox, and his breath catches in his throat. 
   For some inscrutable reason, he almost forgot that today was Ivy Day, and now the Yale logo is staring at him mockingly. He doesn’t even bother unlocking the door before tearing the envelope open. 
Dear Garwin Chang,
    The Yale Admissions Committee has completed its evaluation of this year's candidates, and I am genuinely sorry that we are not able to offer you a place in the Class of 2016.
    I realize that this decision may come as a real disappointment. I hope you will understand that the decision reflects the extraordinary range of talents represented in our applicant pool and not a judgment about your own abilities or potential. Of the nearly twenty-nine thousand individuals who applied to Yale this year, most are fully capable of doing outstanding work and making a unique contribution to a campus community. It is painful to us that we must turn away so many superbly talented students. 
    You may be tempted to ask what was lacking in your application. In truth, it is usually difficult for us to point to obvious weaknesses when so many applicants have demonstrated real achievement and potential for the future. Our decisions say far more about the small number of spaces available and the difficult choices we make than they do about a candidate's personal and academic promise.
I hope that the replies you receive from other colleges this spring will soon erase any disappointment regarding Yale's decision, and that you will go on to great success in your educational pursuits. 
Sincerely, 
Leto Kerlof
Leto Kerlof
Magnate of Undergraduate Admissions
    Tears well in his eyes, blurring the world as he fumbles for his keys. He wants nothing more than to crawl into his bed and live there for an eternity. 
    But as he stumbles up the stars, his plans for revenge are already piecing themselves together. 
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fashionbooksmilano · 11 months
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Traditional Couture
Folkloric Heritage Costume
Photographed by Gregor Hohenberg
Gestalten Verlag, Berlin 2015, 320 pages, 25 x 33 cm, Full color, hardcover, ISBN 978-3-89955-572-1
euro 55,00
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Traditional clothing represents the regions where it is produced along with their cultures and handcraft. Its creativity and longevity is inspiring high fashion designers of today and tomorrow.
In Traditional Couture, German fashion photographer Gregor Hohenberg portrays the individuals, young and old alike, who currently wear authentic, traditional attire throughout his homeland. With an eye and sensibility with which he usually works with magazines including Elle, Vogue, and T: The New York Times Style Magazine, Hohenberg captures the dignity of the wearers, the beauty of their surroundings, and the glorious details of their distinctive clothing and its intricate tailoring.
German Traditional clothing is essentially haute couture. Made with high quality fabrics and elaborate workmanship, it embodies cultural heritage and style. Encompassing a surprising variety of garments, it represents premium handcraft, an awareness of tradition, a sense of belonging, and an affinity to one’s homeland. At the same time, folkloric clothing is inspiring some of today and tomorrow’s most ambitious and radical fashion designers. In Traditional Couture, photographer Gregor Hohenberg succeeds in building a visual bridge between the outmoded and the avant-garde in German folkloric fashion. He portrays the individuals, young and old alike, who wear traditional attire in 22 regions of his homeland, as well as their surroundings.
18/06/23
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canmom · 1 year
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Are you still doing weird physics questions? During a conversation about alternative fuel for paddle steamers, one suggestion was nuclear power. I know there are nuclear-powered subs, so I guess it's not a completely stupid idea. Apparently you can use radioactive ore to heat the water to produce the steam, so basically: is it viable to put a lead-shielded boiler on an old-fashioned wooden-hulled paddle steamer bouyancy- and weight distribution-wise, and if not, what would happen? Thanks.
hmm. thanks anon that's a fun question. many years ago I made a similar investigation about a nuclear powered airship (something the Soviets once thought about), and in the course of that post, I found that the best existing small nuclear fission reactors for space travel generate around 100kW of power and mass in around 500kg, but that might only be on paper performance. that research seems to have been superseded by something called kilopower which generates 1-10kW of electricity from around 40kW of heat, and masses 1500kg. the latter is intended for use on crewed space missions, so it's probably decently shielded.
it's apparently thought possible that a multi megawatt space reactor is possible, massing tens of tonnes. that's on paper though, and it doesn't seem to have been built.
how does that compare to the demands of a steamship? according to this page, a big fuckoff passenger liner from the tail end of the steam era is driven by a few thousand horsepower. by contrast, the first steamship only needed 19 horsepower. this gradually increased to the hundreds of kW as steamships started to regularly cross the Atlantic.
10kW is about 13hp, so the larger end of those tiny space reactors could theoretically power a ship, though it would be a bit weak. as far as mass, I'm not sure how to look up the mass of a steamship power plant very easily, but the Great Western as a whole displaced around 2000 tonnes, so it doesn't sound like the extra mass would be a huge issue.
what about the actual nuclear reactors used on ships, which is termed nuclear marine propulsion? these ships actually do use steam; this is the principle of operation:
Most naval nuclear reactors are of the pressurized water type, with the exception of a few attempts at using liquid sodium-cooled reactors. A primary water circuit transfers heat generated from nuclear fission in the fuel to a steam generator; this water is kept under pressure so it does not boil. This circuit operates at a temperature of around 250 to 300 °C (482 to 572 °F). Any radioactive contamination in the primary water is confined. Water is circulated by pumps; at lower power levels, reactors designed for submarines may rely on natural circulation of the water to reduce noise generated by the pumps.
The hot water from the reactor heats a separate water circuit in the steam generator. That water is converted to steam and passes through steam driers on its way to the steam turbine. Spent steam at low pressure runs through a condenser cooled by seawater and returns to liquid form. The water is pumped back to the steam generator and continues the cycle. Any water lost in the process can be made up by desalinated sea water added to the steam generator feed water.
but these ships not wooden paddle steamers so let's keep investigating.
WP's article tells me
a typical marine propulsion reactor produces no more than a few hundred megawatts.
so the ceiling is clearly way higher than the space reactors! the mass of one of these marine nuclear reactors is not listed in that article. however, the icebreaker Lenin, the first nuclear powered surface ship, displaced 16000 tonnes, or about eight Great Westerns, so that's a bit more overhead for heavy nuclear machinery. the first nuclear submarine, the USS Nautilus, displaced more like 3000 tonnes. still more than the Great Western, but most of that is probably structural mass rather than the nuclear reactor right?
tradeoff wise, I would expect a nuclear reactor to mass more than a coal or diesel engine thanks to all the shielding, but you wouldn't have to carry fuel with you. the Otto Hahn which displaced 17,000 tonnes empty, was apparently able to replace a nuclear reactor with a diesel engine room, and while I don't know how complicated an operation that was, it doesn't sound like they're too enormously different in size or mass.
ok, so, structurally, can a wooden ship handle that? I don't know a lot about shipbuilding but I have watched a bunch of videos on the channel "Casual Navigation", and that's almost the same thing right? the distribution of mass and displaced water on a ship all interacts in a way that's pretty complicated - look into the metacentre to get a glimpse - and I imagine if the ship design had to include a huge heavy powerplant that's considerably denser than the rest of the ship, that's going to impose some funky constraints. and of course wood is also much less strong than steel, which is one reason why wooden ships aren't built on the same sort of scale without internal metal reinforcement. so supporting that reactor will probably take a bunch of metal? but I'm afraid I don't know enough about building ships to get further than those vague statements!
lengthways, a ship can be 'trimmed' much like an aeroplane by distributing the cargo towards the front or the back. if the structural wood is much lighter than the nuclear reactor as I'm assuming, you have a big mass wherever that reactor is, so you probably want it towards the back so the ship is 'trimmed by aft' when it's empty. (idk if this is why, but all the big paddle ships I've seen pictures of seem to have their paddles towards the back.)
nuclear reactors are also dangerous things that you very much don't want to pop a leak or fall out the bottom of your ship in the middle of a busy port. you won't need to refuel as often as a fossil fuel powered ship, but every few years you'll need to open that bad boy up and put some more uranium in there. this is apparently the real limit on civilian nuclear ships: not a lot of ports have that kind of specialist infrastructure. that's the main reason there aren't a lot of nuclear ships outside of the military.
all the same...
I think the odds of nuclear energy being invented but not propellers are pretty slim, especially since moving fluids through pipes is a pretty important element of a nuclear reactor, but if you don't let that stop you... let's suppose we have a setting with abundant fissile material and wood but no fossil fuels and not a lot of iron, and a society that's a lot more on board with nuclear power than people tend to be in our world. the Cancrioth from the Baru Cormorant series, for example. we can assume they've gotten familiar with nuclear tech on land, they're sailing about under wind power, and one day someone says "hey why don't we put that thing on a boat?"
visually I think you could make it look pretty cool. no huge funnels, but instead the reactor is a big metal sphere in the middle of the ship where the paddles are. (a sphere minimises shielding surface area, although there's no need for it to be sphere shaped on the outside!)
how big would these ships be? the smallest nuclear submarine is apparently the Rubis-class, measuring 73m, which is about as long as the Great Western. most other nuclear ships are in the ~200m range. the SS Great Eastern got about that long at 200m, at the tail end of the paddle era. so expect your nuclear paddle steamers to be on the upper end of mid 1800s ships - a little riverboat isn't going to be able to carry that kind, but maybe it would be able to handle one of those tiny space reactors.
in a setting where these ships are common, there would definitely have been accidents. think how bad oil spills are in the real world, and now each one is a mini-Fukushima. sure, there's a lot of ocean to dilute the radiatioactive material. but you could imagine one of these ships running aground, popping open and contaminating a stretch of coastline, or a refueling accident in a port, all sorts of stuff. a setting that is still building paddle steamers probably isn't building their nuclear reactors as safe as modern ones, so cancer rates will probably be higher and you probably have a bunch of infrastructure to filter irradiated water. or maybe they just don't care and this is a grimdark setting where life is really short.
in modern times, we thankfully haven't seen a big nuclear ship get seriously shot at and sunk. but in this setting we're imagining, they probably don't have the kind of long range missiles and aircraft and fancy point defense systems that all those scary modern ships do, so assuming anyone who's nuts enough to build nuclear wooden ships is also willing to go to war with them, battles between these things are probably a lot closer-range and especially horrible. even if you survive there's a good chance of radiation poisoning from nuclear ships catching fire or breaking open.
it's a cool image, and has loads of interestingly fucked up consequences to follow through on, so I say go for it if you want to put nuclear steamers in a story!
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