Throw Him Off. Into Spikes. Just Die Gosh Darn It.

Linked Universe Fanfictions

I fell in love with @jojo56830‘s @linkeduniverse AU and started to write fanfiction of it. Here’s a masterpost to keep track of it. “Fright” is standalone, with everything else following a narrative. As I write more, I’ll add them to this list. Word counts in parens. Enjoy!

Fright (1537)

Chapter 1: The Cave pt 1 (1105)

Chapter 2: The Cave pt 2 (1284)

Chapter 3: The Beach pt 1 (1471)

Chapter 4: The Beach pt 2 (2143)

Chapter 5: Smoke (1600)

Chapter 6: Fire (4855)

Chapter 7: Ashes (1829)

Chapter 8: Time for the Truth (2270)

Chapter 9: Can We Get Back to Adventuring, Please? (1275)

Science of everyday life: 5 essential reads

by Maggie Villiger

One of best things about my job as a science editor is that any crazy idea I start wondering about – whether triggered by something I see on my commute, a current event that’s in the news, or best of all a conversation with my young kids – I can call up an expert and ask her or him to break it down for me, and you.

It seems like our readers enjoy this type of “I’ve always wondered … ” article too. My most-read story of the past year was by an entomologist making the case to bug-haters that by killing a spider they might actually be making their homes more hospitable to insects the spider would have eaten and eliminated for them.

Below, a handful of my favorites from 2018. But curiosity isn’t bound by the calendar, so here’s to a new year of everyday science.

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175

17th century doofuses

veneziano : but just when all seemed lost i had an epiphany

*cut to veneziano 2 days earlier sprawled on the couch, germany and japan in the same room doing their own stuff*

veneziano : I AM GOING TO THROW MYSELF INTO THE SEA.

#cROCS #crocs are a thing here man #tons of kids have em #he’s reading a book titled ‘Pancake Pig’ #bc I couldn't fit ‘If You Give A Pig A Pancake’ on there #beanbag #do u know how hard it is to read English??? #its ridiculous #also we’ve only seen like,,, #two shots of Felicia,,, #and i already love her to bits #one more thing #i forgot to say anything but,, #allan and matt rEALLY remind me of my brothers?? #like,, #to the point where we probably have a photo somewhere of them with the exact same energy as how I drew them??? #idk #its weird #but makes me love the characters all the more so,,

I love…Toris and his boys, Felicia Beilschmidt, and Xaio. Who I really really sympathize with. Learning English is hARD.

Talked with @ask-risorgimento-italy about nation conscious and nation death last night, and here’s kind of my take on it. They are people, but there’s something different simmering underneath.

Dude. I kept reading this asくこみ for the longest time

we’reくコ:彡 entering squid territory

 くコ:彡                                                                       くコ:彡                              くコ:彡  くコ:彡                                                        くコ:彡                           くコ:彡 くコ:彡

my absolute fav

glitch is a gem

^^love

I felt like drawing whimsical-looking children today, I suppose. More fantasy AU requested by popular demand, haha.

(Alfred is going to starve the entire village this child must be stopped)

More fantasy!hetalia stuff: x x

The Girl at the Museum: A Zelink Modern AU

The Girl at the Museum FFN AO3

Word count: 10,344 Summary: “There was little to do on his long shifts at the museum, but he was happy to look at her and let himself craft stories about her life and his life and how one day they would intertwine in the most elegant way. Often times it felt like fate.” Link spends a summer working at a museum, Zelda is the mysterious girl who is always there. Zelink Modern AU Oneshot BOTW-ish

Today, Link imagined her as a foreigner.

She came from Termina, had a thick accent, and often said, “How do you say…?”  She was here for the summer on a research trip, and at the end of the season she would return to a small town in a distant country to write an obscure archeology book Link would one day find years from now, when she was just a distant memory.  She would bike in the early morning to a dusty library to write in a leather notebook and eat pastries her neighbor baked.  One day they would accidentally meet at a hotel bar, and she would find him charming and funny.

Yesterday, Link imagined her as a painter.

In reality, he knew nearly nothing about her.  Everything he did know he gleaned from watching her, and that was still barely any information.  He knew she absentmindedly ran her delicate hands through her long, golden hair when she was reading.  He knew she liked to braid it when she needed a break, and then let it loose when she biked away.  He knew her milky skin turned pink when she sat in the sunlight for too long.  He knew she preferred jean shorts and loose t-shirts with vintage lettering.  He knew she loved the museum.

Based off of her appearance, he assumed she had to be around the same age as him, or maybe he just wished it.  Was she also eighteen years old, just a few months away from attending university? Maybe she was deceptively young looking but actually worked in a bank and had a husband?  He constantly wondered.

At first he tried to control himself and actually do his job, but his job as a Visitor Services Associate at the Mila Vah Windfall Museum was boring. By the third day she was the only interesting thing he could see from the front desk, and so he finally gave up and watched her.

He often imagined her as a girl from his high school who was so shy that he had somehow missed her throughout the past eighteen years.  Then he would charm her and she would slowly become comfortable around him.  One day he’d drive her to the movies in the rain but they wouldn’t want to leave the comfort of the car, so they’d snuggle up and –

Link hadn’t meant to let his imagination run so wildly, but as the time ticked by each shift she seeped deeper into his thoughts until he spun an entire life story for her, many of which ended up with her enthralled by him just as much as he was enthralled by her.

Today she was sitting in the Wintergarden.  Link sat at the front desk, as always, and stared at her through the massive window across the lobby.  She sat cross-legged on the step of the small, stone fountain in the center of the glass room.  Sunlight streamed down from the windowed ceiling, slipped past the leaves of the enclosed trees, and cast dappled rays on her delicate form.  She was absorbed with a large book in her lap, so large that Link would guess it was a textbook.  Occasionally she would run her hands through her long hair and nibble at her bottom lip. Surrounded by luscious plants, vibrant flowers, and spotted sunlight, Link thought she looked like a princess.

Sometimes he imagined her as royalty, but those dreams always left him feeling distant and hopeless.

There was little to do on his long shifts at the museum, but he found he did not mind the solitary hours.  He was happy to look at her and let himself craft stories about her life and his life and how one day they would intertwine in the most elegant way.  Often times it felt like fate.

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