#onwards to the finale…what a whirlwind <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[facts-i-just-made-up]

Why no Super Mario Iliad or Aeneid though?

These are in fact the basis for the two Mario Galaxy games. It's not well known that every Mario game has its roots in mythology. While Mario 3 is well known to be based on several works of Greek Theater, and Mario 2 is clearly inspired by The Arabian Nights, the original Super Mario Bros. is the least known to have been based on, quite exactly, Dante's "Inferno."

The nine circles of hell in Dante's work are the inspiration for each set of 4 side scrolling levels, with each of Bowser's castles being collectively inspired by the ninth circle and transition into purgatory.

The first circle of Dante's hell is "Limbo" where he meets each of the virtuous but unbaptized poets who inspire him along his way. All of them Roman "friends," or in Italian, "cumpà," the origin of the English slang "Goomba." Each of them becomes a literal stepping stone toward his goal of finding his Princess Beatrice, flattening for him to walk through the stone abyss.

In the second layer of hell, Dante encounters the punishment for lust, in which a "whirlwind of lovers" manifests the sinful as fish attempting to swim aimlessly through a windy sky. Dante continues ever downward.

Gluttony in the third circle of hell is punished in eternal darkness, where bulbous white trees thrive, containing the damned within them, eating them as they feasted in life.

The fourth circle, Greed, is full of gold coins atop unreachable mushroom growths. Only a vine from Minos allows Virgil and Dante to climb away.

Deeper still flows Styx, the river of the wrathful. It holds ferocious sea beasts and damned alike who attempt to swamp Dante as he travels ever onward toward the city of Dis, where heretics dwell.

Dis, a tower made of squares and bottomless pits reveals The Beast Geryon, depicted as riding within a cloud, tormenting heretics with spines and impaling them on flagpoles bearing the names of their fraudulent beliefs.

The seventh circle is a wasteland for the violent where canons fire forever. Those who committed violent acts are shot, devoured by flying turtle beasts, or turned into trees like the gluttonous before them.

Hell's worst common sinners lay in ten walled ditches called "Bolgia." The ten great walls in Mario's penultimate level are a direct reference, as are the Brotherhood of the Hammer who built the walls referenced by the "Hammer Brothers." These hold gamblers, liars, and lazy authors who write excessively long jokes instead of working on the story they were commissioned to write.

At the end of each layer, Virgil explains to Dante that Beatrice is in another place. Urging him to keep going even beyond where he and other righteous dead may wander. All the way toward the final central circle, the castle of Hell itself.

Finally in the circle of traitors, Dante meets the devil on a bridge over troubled lava where he breathes flame from under his spiked shell upon the three worst traitors in history, Judas who betrayed Christ, Brutus who betrayed Caesar on an unknown date, and the "Traitor to Come," who is said to be a grotesque orange antichrist who will "sell out his nation" for a "Faulty carriage that travels on the power of lightning."

Finally, Dante finds Beatrice, his princess, who takes him to purgatory beyond the core of the Earth, where he ascends to heaven after touching the emblem of her name, the letter "B." He begins his new quest in Dante's "Purgatorio," which holds the Donut Plains, Chocolate Islands, Vanilla Domes, and Butter Bridges of what would be adapted into Super Mario World for the SNES.

[jeonqqin]

man up. [m] | pt. 3

h. jisung x reader | netflix rom-com au

— ❝Even with classes, annoying brothers, and an unrequited crush, you still figured your first year of college was going pretty well. Until you managed to get your first boyfriend, and suddenly your brother and his stupidly attractive best friend were attached to your hip for the whole damn ride.

or alternatively;

Why did Jisung care about you so much, and had his eyes always been that pretty?❞

WORD COUNT: 4k

CONTAINS: brothers best friend au, teen rom-com au, sorta crack fic, love triangle au, college au

WARNINGS: slight angst?, gross/cringy couple, language

A/N: Hyunae is a normal person guys 🤭

▸ request

CHAPTERS:  01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 +

blog masterlist | ⟲ fic song

© jeonqqin 2020

—UNEDITED

“Don’t even think about it.”

Jisung froze in place, his eyes wide. He hadn’t even said a word and you were already angry with him? He didn’t even know how you could tell it was him—your back was turned and you were staring intently down at your laptop. And he certainly hadn’t expected you to snap at him when he finally found you tucked away in the library.

“Huh?”

“If you plan on bothering me while I’m studying, I will not hesitate to throw my laptop at your head.” You threatened, not once taking your eyes off your notes.

“I didn’t even say anything!” Jisung defended, suddenly ready to block any flying objects from hitting his head. “I just got here!”

You turned your head to send a quick glare to him, just to make sure he knew you weren’t happy with him, before resuming your typing.

To say you weren’t happy with how your little dinner went the other day, would’ve been an understatement. You were currently giving the silent treatment to three of the five people who were at the table and even though you really had no reason to be mad at Jisung, he pushed your buttons so you wanted him away. Unfortunately, it seemed that you had grown a parasite.

“Come on, Y/n. Seriously?” Jisung asked.

Your head shook, eyes rolling in dismissal.

“Yes. I’m—” you sighed, hand lifting to rub over your eyes. You were tired and your eyes hurt. What were you studying again? “I’m serious, you asshole. I need to get this shit done and over with.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Yes.”

Even without looking at him you could tell he was pouting, his lip pulled up and brows furrowed.

“I didn’t do anything this time!” Jisung defended, rounding the table to look you in the eye. “Why’re you mad at me?”

He sounded so much like a scolded child, it took everything in your being not to just grab your stuff and leave. Though, as tempting as the thought was, he’d probably just follow you and you’d be right back at the start.

“You’re annoying.” You answered simply.

He stood there for a moment, watching you with too much intensity for your liking. You could almost see the gears turning in his head, his eyebrows slowly forming into a frown as the seconds tick by. It was unnerving to say the least.

But finally, Jisung sighed, reaching over to shut your laptop.

You gawked at his blatant disregard of your words.

“I—” You stammered, reaching out to grab his wrist in whatever attempt you were making to stop his disruptive behavior. “You can’t—!”

“When was the last time you ate?” He asked, freezing you in your spot.

When… did you eat last?

He waited for your protests and whines but none came, there was just a big puff of the last bit of your resilience. Jisung rolled his eyes fondly, his way of silently saying, “yeah, exactly”. So he continued onward, pulling your chair out and sliding your laptop into your bag.

“Let’s go.” He droned, grabbing your hand and tugging you out of your chair.

You released a small groan in defiance but it was short-lived as Jisung maneuvered your head to rest on his shoulder, one of his arms wrapping securely around your waist to keep you from going limp.

It hasn’t been the first time he had to drag you away from the library, and it definitely wasn’t going to be the last. You were too stubborn for your own good.

You sighed, finally just slipping into the warmth of Jisung’s shoulder. “You don’t have to baby me, you know.”

You felt Jisung’s body shake in a silent chuckle.

“I know. But I want to.”

You had always felt strange whenever Jisung took care of you. It wasn’t like Minho, who was your actual brother. Your relationship with Jisung was something that felt both artificial and natural all at the same time. He felt obligated to help you just as Minho did, but that only made things between the two of you feel fake. Though you knew he sincerely cared about your wellbeing.

If only he would stop trying to fit into that mould that Minho built around himself. Maybe then Jisung and you could be really good friends. But that would never happen while he was trying to compensate and prove whatever it was that he was trying to prove to whoever he was trying to prove it to.

Maybe after that he could be more than your brother's best friend.

“Lix is going to punch me if I miss our lunch again.” You huffed into the fabric of his... sweater?

When did he start wearing those?

Jisung patted your arm, “Well, he won’t be punching you today. You need to eat.”

Your eyebrow raised as you shifted enough to look at him.

“And you’re going to carry me the whole way?”

“Of course.” He nodded without a second thought, a proud smile on his face. “Where are we going?”

Jisung could be really cute sometimes, and you couldn’t help but smile at that realization. He thrived off of making other people feel good, and when he succeeded, he got giddy.

You struggled to pull your phone from your back pocket, scrolling through all the messages you and Felix sent that morning. You hummed, “Felix said we were going to Haven.”

Exiting the library, Jisung groaned, “Again? We just went yesterday.”

You shrugged against him. “He has a soft spot for Jeongin.”

Finally reaching the chilly air waiting outside of the university building, you cursed under your breath. No matter how many layers you threw on, the autumn wind was always there to seep through them, nipping at your sensitive skin. The leaves were finally changing, which was beautiful, but you couldn’t really appreciate their beauty when the wind and rain whipped them off their branches.

It was a little like college; no matter how pretty or vibrant you were, the whirlwind of work and studying always threw you around enough to knock you off that pedestal. Until you were bare and ready for summer to come again so you could recharge.

The cycle was a bitch.

Jisung sighed with you, his eyes gazing out at the pretty leaves as well. Gradually he adjusted you enough so he was able to slip his arm from your waist and then sliding it over your shoulders. The extra padding if his sweater was nice against your cheek, bringing just a little bit of warmth.

He peaked at you in the corner of his eye, looking forward again to avoid being caught in the action.

“Do you want to take the bus? It’ll take a little longer, but at least we won’t blow away.” He suggested with a small snicker as his bangs whipped around his eyes.

You considered it, hands finding warmth in the fabric of his grey pullover.

“Sure, but it’ll probably be packed since everyone is getting out of class.”

He looked to be weighing the options in his head, but suddenly he was at a standstill, his once-limp arm going completely stiff around you.

“Ji?” A delicate voice rang, followed by a small laugh. “I called you twice, baby. Where were you?”

Ew, you frowned, what a movie moment.

Hyunae stopped in front of you, her tawny locks swinging in a pretty braid at her ribs and her thick sweatshirt hanging loosely down around her thighs. You knew it was Jisung’s—you had seen him wearing it before. Hell, you’d seen Minho wearing it.

She wasn’t in anything extravagant or flashy, but with her honest eyes and round cheeks, she didn’t have to be to stand out from everyone else in the world.

The moment her eyes made a sweep of Jisung’s frozen position, they flickered to you, her face slowly settling into something akin to a frown. It was a look that could make anyone feel sad, her face looked unnatural when sullen.

With a nudge from you, Jisung jumped to his girlfriend’s side, leaving you exposed to the chilling wind.

Boys were stupid, weren’t they?

“Sorry, angel—”

Oh, gag.

“—Y/n stuffed herself in the library. Someone had to pull her out for some air.”

He smiled down at her, unconsciously maneuvering his body in the way of the violent wind, shielding her small frame.

She nodded slowly, again looking over towards you.

“Okay. But Ji,” she paused, grabbing his hand to gain his attention. “You know how I feel about you being affectionate towards other people, right…?”

Jealous, insecure, though not completely irrational—

Jisung bent closer to her, lips curled apologetically. “I know, baby. I’m sorry, but it’s like second nature with Y/n! She’s like a baby sister, you know that.”

Hyunae sighed. She was ready to spout out more choice words, but with a small smile, Jisung began to pepper her face with quick kisses, bringing a melodic giggle to her lips.

They seriously couldn’t have forgotten about you. You were standing three feet away from them.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, finding the flying leaves much more interesting than the display in front of you. The giggling stopped and things suddenly felt much more uncomfortable.

“I’m going to head over to Haven, okay?” You asked, ready to speed-walk as far away from their little reunion as you possibly could.

Hyunae places a chaste kiss to Jisung’s mouth before grabbing his hand and hooking it around her waist. She patted his stomach, fluttering her long lashes up at him, “I could go for something to eat. Can I tag along?”

Your nose scrunched up in distaste.

She had to be laying it on thick on purpose. You had seen the two of them together before and sure, they were a lovey-dovey couple, but did she have to look up at Jisung like he had hung the stars in the sky?

Jisung wasn’t any better, his cheeks a nice rosy color, and his hands touching all the little curves of her waist.

Every moment you were within range of Hyunae, you were ignored. She wasn’t outwardly an attention seeker, but just her being there called everyone’s eyes. Not that you wanted to be the center of attention necessarily, it only bothered you when you spoke out and were completely brushed off. Your words going in one ear and out the other with both Hyunae and Jisung, it was frustrating.

They were always in their own little world, and you couldn’t have been the only one who didn’t want to be there to witness it.

“Yeah,” Jisung nodded obediently. “Of course you can, sunshine.”

Well, if you hadn’t been hungry before, you definitely weren’t now.

You deadpanned, spinning on your heel, “Great. I’ll be on the bus then.”

“We’re definitely going on the bus though. Your pants look too thin to be walking around in this weather.”

Hyunae giggled at her boyfriend’s words.

Maybe you could lose them and take the next bus back to your dorm.

You weren’t being petty—no one liked being ignored. That was a fact. Stepping up to the campus bus stop, the last of the crowd was piling into the bright blue vehicle, and you released a relieved sigh. The last thing you wanted to do was sit and wait for ten minutes while Jisung and Hyunae cooed and pinched each other’s cheeks.

Your relief proved to be in vain, however, as you slid into the last remaining seat, only to be followed by the couple. They stood directly in front of you, their shadow casting down and becoming the only thing you could see.

Never had you thought that you would be able to feel your stomach flipping upside-down inside of you as Hyunae pulled Jisung down into a kiss in front of everyone in the crowded bus. Would you really be committing a crime if you threw them out the window? Could it be considered a public service?

“Baby, stop! There are people here…”

Seriously, what kind of sadistic soap opera were you living in?

You had thrown yourself out of your seat the moment the bus crawled to a stop. It was a good thing the diner was the first stop or else you probably would’ve walked the rest of the way and risked being caught in the wind. Even then it would’ve been better than sitting and pretending not to see the cuddling happening a foot away.

You were going to order a cup of coffee and leave with a stomachache—that was your plan.

Maybe Minho would be home and you would be able to slide into his bed and beg for him to cuddle you. Not that there was a particular reason why you were suddenly feeling needy and void of attention, Minho was just kind of squishy and made a good pillow on occasions where you had to force yourself to sleep before you attempted to squeeze more studying in.

“It took you long enough to get here.” Felix called as you slid into the seat beside him, waving off the confused look he sent you. You simply motioned towards the smiling couple and watched as your best friend’s eyes widened in understanding. “Oh, yeah. Okay.”

You deadpanned, “Quick, kill me before they get here. We can both get out of this.”

“No way, you get the easy way out. I’m here stuck with murder.”

You patted his shoulder sympathetically, the sides of your mouth finally twitching at the corners.

“Trust me, jail for life is better than five minutes around these two.”

“You’re being dramatic. Let the young couple be gross.” Felix said as he nudged at your arm.

“Screw you and your dumb romantic heart. To normal people this is bordering on public indecency.”

Felix’s lip curled at the side as the two sat down on the other side of the table, Hyunae grabbed one menu for the both of them and opened it to discuss amongst themselves and they had to be covering every single disgusting couple trope out there. No matter how many times you witnessed it, it would always surprise you as to just how much you wanted to throw up.

But it was when Felix mouthed the word “jealous” did you determine that your day was just going to be shitty and you couldn’t do anything about it anymore.

“Did you order yet, Lix?” Jisung chimed, his voice almost sounding brighter than it had before. Did Hyunae really affect him that much?

“No. I was waiting for Y/n to get here.” He shrugged, holding up his own menu.

Hyunae looked up, her eyes shining with worry.

Gross.

“I hope we didn’t intrude or anything.”

Who even said “intrude” anymore?

Felix shook his head. “You’re fine. Y/n is usually a bummer to eat with anyway.”

Hyunae glanced your way before chuckling, shaking her head as she refocused back on Jisung who was desperately trying to show her something on the laminated sheet in front of them. He was actually a child.

Who got excited about menus? He ordered the same thing every time he ate at Haven, what was there to be excited about?

“What can I get you guys?”

Jeongin’s smile just barely lifted your mood, and you were grateful.

Felix set his menu down, “I’ll just have a Coke, and I wanted to know if I could order off the dinner list?”

And with that question, your mood was immediately diminished. You frowned, sending Felix a look similar to disgust.

What kind of day were you having?

“Can even be considered dinner? It’s four o’clock, who eats dinner at four in the afternoon?”

“It’s called the early bird special, you disrespectful baby. Old people do this shit all the time.” Felix pointed, sliding his menu across the table to Jeongin.

“Sorry that I don’t know the routine of old people, Felix.”

Jisung frowned, his eyes trying to catch yours to assess what was wrong, but you were too busy ripping up what was left of Felix’s napkin. Though, Hyunae noticed where Jisung’s gaze was lingering, and slid her fingers through his.

“Are you okay, Y/n?” Hyunae asked, voice lit with the intention of lightening the mood. “You seem a little grumpy today.”

But you saw nothing humorous in her comment. You bit your tongue, hard enough to taste the faintest of copper.

“A coffee.”

“Just—?”

“Just a coffee, Jeongin.”

The table went tense at the way your voice rose, Jeongin moving quickly to jot down your simple request, no longer looking up from his notepad. You would’ve felt bad had you not been so frustrated with the turn out of the day.

Hyunae then cleared her throat, her brows raised in the smallest action of judgement. It was similar to the many looks she had shot at Hyunjin during one of their many heated arguments, and that was what you hated about Hyunae. Not only did she get on every one of your nerves by being the world’s best girlfriend, but she had the incredible ability to make you feel like you had done so much wrong just within the few seconds of her flashing that look.

“Okay, then. Me and Jisung will have—”

And her “Me and Jisung,” that was what made your stomach churn the most.

“Sorry, Jeongin.” You said, startling everyone, including the boy you addressed as you stood from the booth. “I’m not feeling very well. I have to go.”

“O-Okay. Feel better, Y/n.” Jeongin said, moving out of your way.

“Woah woah woah,” suddenly, Jisung was standing too, grabbing your arm before you could rush out the door. “Where are you going? You need to eat.”

For whatever reason, his words only infuriated you more, feeling your ears heat and muscles tense under his grip. Was that what it took to get his attention? You had to throw a fit before he gave you the time of day?

You ripped your arm from his hold, not even giving the table a second glance before spinning on your heel.

“Fuck off, Jisung.”

As you stormed off, throwing open the door and leaving with a huff, Jisung watched your retreating form with wide eyes. It was as if you had slapped him, mouth gaping and brows furrowed in confusion.

Felix sighed, suddenly feeling bad for pushing your buttons in that ordeal. “She’s tired.” He concluded, slouching in his seat.

“I’ll say…” Hyunae quipped.

And for whatever reason that was, Jisung really wanted to snap at her, to defend you and tell her to quit being a bitch. But his voice was lost as he looked down at her, only able to muster up a silent scoff as he sat back down. He didn’t even push away her hand when it reached for his.

What perfect timing to realize that he was afraid of his own girlfriend.

He was such an asshole.

Both your and Jisung’s thoughts were very similar at that moment.

And how you could go from leaning your head against Jisung’s warm shoulder to wanting to rip his head off was unbeknownst to you.

You had to leave in that moment, if you hadn’t you didn’t know what you would’ve said… or screamed. You were just so frustrated and so tired, convincing yourself that no, you did not want to cry in front of everyone who was enjoying their early bird special.

There was school, all your homework creating a permanent dent in your life filled with papers and essays and tests, and there was Minho there to nag at you and chase away any boy that gave you the time of day. They had always been in your life. But now there was Jisung and Chan, new emotions and problems to throw into the mix. With everything going on, it was difficult to keep up, and you actually missed the moments when it was just Minho there to tuck you under his arm and lecture you about boys.

In your thoughts, you never even noticed how you completely walked past the bus stop and had come up to a quiet playground on the edge of campus. How you had managed to walk that far, you didn’t know. Perhaps it was all the pent up stress that just had you zoning out and walking, or your body was subconsciously trying to get you kidnapped so you didn’t have to deal with your problems anymore.

You were feeling a bit better, so either way, it worked.

Finally, you found your legs carrying you to one of the swings, the black seat reminiscent of your childhood where you would always burn the backs of your legs in your hurry to get there before everyone else. That black rubber always got so damn hot.

With a small smile, you sat down, almost disappointed to feel the coolness against your jeans.

Your legs of course bent awkwardly under you, you weren’t a kid anymore unfortunately, and it was pretty strange to push off on something that you had forgotten entirely about but had thought so highly of before. Despite it being strange, it felt nice, and you were thankful that the wind was dying down as it was getting later in the day, the sun making its way towards the ground in front of you.

Rocking yourself in the swing you reached back for your phone. You wanted to apologize to Felix for storming off and probably worrying him, he was sort of your mother in that way. But you weren’t really ready to squeeze back into reality like that, so you called someone else.

“Y/n? What’s up?”

You felt your lips quirk up.

“Nothing much. What about you?”

The man on the other line hummed, the faint sound of typing just barely made out. “This song isn’t fitting together and I kind of want to scream, so I’m doing pretty good.”

“I think I’m doing pretty good then too.”

You rested your head against the chain of the swing.

“Did something happen?”

You made a sound that could be read similarly to “yes, but I think I’ll sound stupid if I tell you”, but it successfully pulled a laugh from him, so it was worth it.

“I don’t think you want to listen to my woes.”

“I always want to listen to your woes.”

His tone was joking, but his words were genuine, you could tell.

And finally, you were smiling, as difficult as it had been all day, you were able to while talking to him. There was no Jisung, no Hyunae, no judgment. You could talk to him without worrying, and you knew that for sure.

“And I want to throw up because of how cheesy that was.” You retorted, using the same joking tone he had spoken in.

There was the sound of shifting, and ruffles of fabric—as if he had just stood from his desk and fell back onto his bed.

“Don’t make fun of me, I’m already feeling bad about my song. Now tell me about your day so I can feel better about mine.”

You snorted, pushing yourself off on the swing once more.

“Okay, Chan. Whatever you say.”

[chuckaf]

Chuck Fic Rec List: Updated

So my fic rec post was in my notifs again the other day, and I noticed a while back that the formatting on the post has gotten all messed up and it’s also had like three reblog additions to it anyway meaning there are three versions out there lol. so, I wanted to do another list of chuck fic recs! I’ll keep the other one up still, so I’m not gonna repeat every fic here, just some I really recommend. I’m also adding the fic summaries, which I didn’t on the old post, and some more of my own opinions so, buckle up for a long post!

Chuck Versus the Steampunk Chronicles | Steampunk.Chuckster

1896. A world powered by steam, where humans and machines coexist, and airships are the fashionable mode of transport. The US Empire's deepest and darkest secrets arrive at Chuck Bartowski's doorstep. Have they fallen into the wrong hands? Or will the inventor prove his mettle, even while he's forced to hide from the very people he's protecting? AU, ongoing chronicle, Charah.

A genuinely incredible AU story, with an entire crafted world and universe, so detailed it frequently blows my mind. There is heart and family and infuriatingly brilliant slow-burn, plus a buttload of danger and super fun historical/steampunk action. Oh how I LOVE it.

Chuck vs the Charade | somedeepmystery

When computer nerd Chuck Bartowski returns home to an empty apartment and a dead girlfriend he finds himself embroiled in a deadly game of espionage and deceit. Everyone around him is playing a part to get what they want and when he starts falling for the new woman in his life, he can't help but wonder if he can trust her or if she's the one he should fear the most.

An action and twist-filled AU based on the movie Charade, which is just such a brilliant fic concept I absolutely adored it from the start.

Two Sides of the Same Coin | dettiot

When you're a spy, there's all kinds of occupational hazards when you work with another spy. For Sarah Walker, though, one mission becomes a life-changing experience. Because working with Charles Carmichael leads to protecting Chuck Bartowski.

The first time I read this fic my mind was just blown to its genius. Such a brilliant interpretation of what the Intersect and its concepts set up in the show could be, and ooooof the Chuck/Sarah interactions, my HEART. Related to it, its companion piece:

A Flip of the Coin | dettiot

What made Charles Carmichael agree to become Chuck Bartowski? Well, to start, it wasn't as much of a change as you'd think. A companion to the early chapters of Two Sides of the Same Coin from Carmichael's perspective.

Chuck vs The Butterfly Effect | n7agentbartowski

Chuck Bartowski is a normal guy who just hit rock bottom. No girlfriend, no career and no super computer stuck inside his head. It isn't until Chuck meets a gorgeous stranger on the beach that he begins to think his life is about to change for the better. An AU Chuck fic without the Intersect. "Change one thing and it changes everything."

I said it on the OG post, but this story has one of my top 5 Chuck/Sarah fic meetings. So funny, so... very Chuck. The story is a little angsty overall, but a great read.

Chuck vs the Rogue Spy | Crumby

When a rogue spy from Chuck Bartowski's past shows up to help him during his first solo mission, Chuck hopes that he'll finally find out what happened to Sarah Walker. Post-S2 AU.

There’s a lot of Season 3 fix-it fics out there, which I don’t usually read bc I actually love season 3 lol, but this one’s a good one! A twisty deviation from canon, but still feels really true to character.

Chuck Versus the Nerds Rewrite | Steampunk.Chuckster and David Carner

What happens when two nerds talk endless hours about their favorite TV show? A new take on the show you know, but with the flair, twists, and turns you've come to expect from Steampunk . Chuckster and david . carner. Somewhat canon. Charah.

As the summary says, a different take on the show, which honestly makes a couple changes I would too, but also adds a bunch of fun twists and plots that make it totally new and fresh. Seeing Chuck and Sarah’s thoughts in the more canon sections is just delicious, too.

The Trapped Assassin | SarahsSupplyCloset

After a mission goes awry, the CIA's most lethal assassin is ordered to take vacation while her superiors figure out what to do with her. But when she meets a disarming tourist, their immediate connection only adds to her disillusionment with the agency and her career. Will he be enough for her to finally take the plunge and leave the only life she's ever known? Charah AU

A warning for the very justified M rating if you don’t like that sort of thing, but this is definitely a plot-heavy fic, too. A really neat Sarah-heavy AU, with a whole lotta Chuck/Sarah fancy French vacationy goodness.

Chuck vs the Second Chance | malamoo

AU from mid-season 2 and onwards. Chuck and Sarah part ways only to be reunited years later. COMPLETE.

Literal, crying-at-my-screen angst. Not even a super happy ending. But a brilliantly written, part-reflective/flashback fic, exploring what would’ve happened if Chuck and Sarah’s relationship really was an assignment all along-- and the aftermath. It’s heartbreaking. But if you want a little heartbreak, this is your fic.

Ready at Your Hand | dettiot

In the reign of Queen Elizabeth I, a Catholic plot against the queen comes to the attention of spymaster Sir Francis Walsingham. To protect Elizabeth, he develops an unusual plan: hide the passing of intelligence between two agents by a false romance. When Lady Sarah Walker and Chuck Carmichael meet, though, their pretend flirtation becomes much more.

I love Chuck fic for the very reason that it’s inspired such adventurous and totally unique AUs. Here’s some Elizabethan fake-dating Chuck and Sarah! They have to be so Proper, it’s like that hand moment from Pride and Prejudice but Elizabethan and times a billion. The pining!!

Sarah Versus Getting Married | Steampunk.Chuckster

Sarah Walker is getting married. Canon. Charah.

I’d recommend all of SC’s fics if I had the room, and I’m already recommending a ton sksks but most of my fic recs are AUs, and this one isn’t! It’s canon, and covers some of in the gap in 4x24, with Sarah just before the wedding itself. Super sweet, heart-tugging, brilliant.

A Chuckmas Carol | Mikki13

A new twist to Dickens' beloved "A Christmas Carol". When Sarah begins to shut out the world around her, three spirits come to show her the error of her ways. Season 3 AU.

Another Season 3 AU, this one written pre-series so it definitely doesn’t fit to canon, but it’s still wonderfully rich in character depth and angst and it also made me cry. Plus, festive!

Chuck Versus Thin Ice | Steampunk.Chuckster

On the doorstep of the Olympics, top American curler Sarah Walker has lost her mixed doubles partner and her boyfriend in one fell swoop. Her coaches throw newbie Team U.S.A. curler Chuck Bartowski onto her team and thrust them into the Olympics, hanging America's curling hopes on two people who only have a short amount of time to learn to trust one another. Charah AU.

Do you like curling? Or the Winter Olympics? It doesn’t really matter because somehow this fic made me extremely invested in both of those things, as well as Chuck and Sarah and them being INSUFFERABLE. Catch me now knowing a ton about curling thanks to this fic.

Walker’s Eleven | Moonlight Pilot

Not the same plot as the movie. Sarah Walker never got out of the con game or became a spy, and now she's on her final con. What happens when true love and betrayal get added to the mix? Twists, turns, and Jeffster!

Con!Sarah always interests me, and this fic is full of her. Lotta con plot, lotta Chuck and Sarah.

The Detective and the Tech Guy | thecharleses

Sarah Walker is a Pinkerton detective. Chuck Bartowski is an electronics genius. They wouldn't have met except for a case of mistaken identity and murder. Will the detective and the tech guy solve the mystery, distracted by the riddle in their own hearts? An homage to The Thin Man film series. Formerly co-written by Steampunk . Chuckster and dettiot, now ONLY Steampunk . Chuckster.

Everyone in this fic is so damn cool. There are so many martinis. But also great heart and family and like, standing up for who you love, and later also Chuck with Baby Clara content which frankly the show robbed us of. Also, PI!Sarah!!!

Gravity | Poetic4U

AU. Sarah makes a decision that altered her life forever.

This is just a one-shot, which many of these stories are not, so a good one if you don’t fancy a big read! Just because it’s short, though, doesn’t mean it’s lacking; a really awesome what-if AU, and heavy on the Chuck and Sarah.

A Yuletie Tale | Steampunk.Chuckster

Sarah Walker was dumped the day before Christmas Eve, and her Plus One at her work’s annual Christmas Eve Soiree is now officially a Plus Zero. Her best friend Ellie Bartowski has a solution to her problem, and Sarah finds she isn’t quite as sure about it as Ellie is. AU Christmas Charah.

I’m particularly in love with this fic because, instead of beginning with a meet-cute, it involves Chuck and Sarah already two years into a friendship-- Sarah is Ellie’s best friend. And she’s been crushing harrrd on Ellie’s brother. Also Chuck is in a tux. It’s pretty.

Set, Spike, Dive! | Frea O’Scanlin

Chuck never expected to even make it to the Olympics. Everything is working against him: he's too tall for a diver, too inexperienced for a medal, too much of a wildcard to really make his mark. But an unexpected meeting at the airport, some intriguing new friends, and a whirlwind romance on the sand just might set up London 2012 as the time of Chuck Bartowski's life.

A London 2012 AU, because why not. This is just a fun Olympic-y ride!

OTP (One True Pairing) Prompts | David Carner

A series of Prompts I found online about different times and places in Chuck and Sarah's life. Mostly AU, mostly one-shots. I assume mostly fluff, but I might get deep. I doubt it, it's me. Charah...ALWAYS (It says complete, but if an idea strikes me...)

If you’re not so into long stories, this fic is perfect. Individual set-ups and stories, all Chuck and Sarah, and all super cute. You could dip in and out and just pick a scenario you enjoy.

Chuck vs The Frontier | ninjaVanish

AU: Chuck was enjoying a simple life as a 19th century watchmaker until an encounter with a beautiful Secret Service agent thrust him into a world of intrigue and adventure he never wanted. But then, with Agent Walker around, it can't be all bad, can it?

This fic gets props for being historically-set but still including the Intersect. Again, a historical AU, so the pining!! the need to be Proper!!! But besides all that, there’s a lot of action fun as well.

Chuck Versus The Crosswalk: Remastered | WvonB

Will a last minute mission help our two favorite characters finally get together? This is the remastered version of my first story.

The original version of this fic is on my first list; this is the updated version! It’s not a complete AU, instead a story that diverges from canon, so if you’re more into canon characters and setting than a new AU scenario, this is a great fic for that.

Little Girls, Paper Wreaths, and Choc Chip Cookies | DanaPAH

Very AU: Sarah Walker is a single mother whose Christmas spirit needs a boost after a tough divorce. She isn't quite ready to go looking for romance, but her little daughter's affection for their new neighbor may lure it right to her doorstep, anyway.

An incredibly sweet AU one-shot where Chuck and Sarah are new neighbours, and Sarah has a super cute little girl. So much sweetness and love and hope. I love this fic so much it literally led me to write my own neighbour-kid-AU, so, not to toot my own horn but I’ll link it here anyway.

May Your Walls Know Joy | halfachance

Looking for a fresh start after some tough times, Sarah and her three-year-old daughter move to LA. When they meet a sweet curly-haired nerd who lives next door, though, Sarah realizes they might just find more happiness than they'd ever imagined, if only her past doesn't catch up to her first. AU.

It’s what the summary says; if you wanna read, feel free!

Chuck vs the Sound of Music | quistie64

AU. Chuck, nerd extraordinaire, is a man with seven children and Sarah must protect them all from Fulcrum's evil designs. Warning: there will be singing.

I mean. Not much mystery as to the concept with that title and summary lol, but this is a super fun, soft ride with a lotta sweetness, and yes, singing.

Just Two People | David Carner

Meet Sarah Walker PhD, Psychologist, specializing in personality traits. Meet Chuck Bartowski, man who has left THE electronic company of 2020. When Burton Consultants tries to figure out what is wrong with the morale of Orion Industries, what happens when a guy named Chuck meets a woman named Sarah. I'll give you a hint, it's me writing.

David’s done something pretty special with this fic. It’s Chuck and Sarah centric, but very much an ensemble piece, too, with a lot of Team Bartowski and other familiar faces throughout.

Chuck Versus the Con Game | Steampunk.Chuckster

AU. Chuck and Sarah are partners in the con game. It's an existence wrought with danger and violence. Every day could be their last. Every mission could be the end of the line.

This is where I freak out SC and declare this fic the reason I ever got hooked on Chuck fic and then wrote Chuck fic, and the reason I still love it today but. that is true lol. Just so. so good. It’s also written with the chapters out of chronological order, which is super fun from a reading perspective. But con!Sarah AND con!Chuck?? Best. The kind of fic you will be thinking about for days (if not, y’know, years).

As you can tell by the repeats, I highly recommend just about anything by Steampunk.Chuckster, dettiot, or David Carner, but there are a TON of amazing Chuck fics and authors out there. I’ve never known a writing community so wildly creative-- there are so many unique AUs and canon explorations and story concepts that this show has manifested, and it’s all so much fun.

Most of the Chuck fic community is still over on FFN rather than AO3, so if any of these whet your appetite, feel free to have a browse there for more stories. I’m sure you’ll find something great. Personally, all the incredible writing there has also led me to write a buttload; I’m at halfachance on FFN, so if you see any of my stuff or wanna chat fic, feel free to message me there or here.

Happy reading, folks!

[silluuuu]

Said you’re seeing right through me // Could be pulling you to me

Happy Reverb 2020! I had a fabulous artist partner this year in the lovely @ochako999 and a lovely author partner as well in @l0chn3ss !! Much luv to my babe @makapedia for the beta eyes, and to the illustrious @reverbmod for organizing the event!

You can see chako’s art here: [1] [2] [3] and ness’s fic here! : The World That Only We Can See // Transparent World

Here is my contribution to Reverb 2020 below the cut! <3

Said you're seeing right through me // Could be pulling you to me

Summary: Change is hard, and time is slipping through her fingers like melted ice cream. Reverb 2020 <3 Pairing: SoulxMaka Rating: G Tags: High school/Youth AU, Coming of Age, Romance

Read the rest below or on AO3 <3

Zero exams down, six to go.

In the late spring heat, pencils scratch against paper in an otherwise silent classroom. The seconds seem to thud onward, measured by the even tick-tock of the clock on the wall, marking the moments that remain in the first of many final exams. A fan at the back of the class, whirring back and forth, ruffles papers and hair and nerves as it punctuates the pencil-scratching.

At the front of the room sits a blackboard, empty of assignments. It’s almost the end, it seems to say. There’s little left for you here.

In an otherwise nondescript class of students, there are a few standouts. In the front row sits a dirty-blonde whirlwind of a girl in a plaid skirt, equipped with pigtails, a well-stocked mechanical pencil, and raw determination. She scribbles as fast as she can, nose to the paper. The more she writes, the more confident her smile becomes.

To her right sits a less speedy scribbler, a black and white-striped cataclysm of a boy with an impeccably pressed uniform, hand stilling on his paper every time a question stumps him. Occasionally, the tapping of his foot joins in with the pencils and the fan as he plays the off-beat in the final exam symphony. In the back of the class when a piece of paper rips, he flinches just a little.

In the back corner near the door sits another boy, a beryl-blue hurricane, removing each of the corners from his test paper. He has already finished his exam, because he writes the first thing that comes to mind. He believes this makes him wise - a somewhat dubious prospect. If anything, it makes him impulsive. But if you can’t make the right decision on the fly, then what’s the point?, is what he would say.

Finally, in the other back corner sits one final boy, a red-and-white rhapsody, staring out the window with a song in his soul. His test lies forgotten for the moment as he taps out a soft rhythm on the desk, quiet enough for only his ears. His eyes drift around the classroom with affected boredom, though when his gaze lands on the girl in the front row, something stirs behind them.

At this moment, the girl in the front stands to take her test to the front, and she happens to glance his way. She sends him a questioning look, but quickly turns to the front again, breaking the contact.

As he looks back out the window, there’s a flush in his cheeks that has little to do with the heat.

----

One exam down, five to go.

“Dude.  I did so good! ”

They walk in a line, shoulders brushing, necks craned towards the sun. Newly escaped from the heat of the classroom, their shoulders are lighter, the white and blue of their uniforms mirroring the sky.

“Did you answer every question this time?” asks the rhapsody, adjusting the headband in his hair while he squints against the sun.

“Um, yes,” the hurricane says. “Last time I just didn’t because--”

“You got distracted by a  fly ,” says the whirlwind.

“I was on a mission!” he insists, punching his fist in the air. “And I  caught  it!” He holds up his fingers in front of the cataclysm's face, clicking them together like chopsticks.

The other three shake their heads before they all stop in tandem, watching the road ahead wind away from the school.

“You going home?” the girl asks, to no one in particular.

“Nah.”

“Nope.”

“Me neither.”

“... You want some company?”

And so they lie in the grass, as they have many times before.

“Hey, Black*Star?”

The hurricane turns his head, blue hair against green grass. He’s a walking Google Earth. “Yeeees, Maka?”

“What are you doing this summer?”

He turns his head back to the sky. “Dunno yet. Might get a job.” He pauses. “Think your dad is looking for help?”

Her mouth thins into a line. “I don’t know. You can ask him.”

“Awww, c’mon, I don’t wanna talk to---

“And  I  do?” she says, turning onto her side, away from him. “Just get Sid to talk to him for you, then.”

“Sid’s been… busy,” he says. Maka’s expression softens a little in the silence that follows.

“What about you, Kid?” she says, glancing up.

The cataclysm sighs. “I’m sure Father will find something for me to do around the building.”

“Around the school?” Black*Star says. “Gross.”

“I’ve worked here every summer for years,” Kid says, nonplussed. Black*Star looks genuinely surprised and a little guilty.

“Whoops. Guess I blacked it out?” he offers.

“Yeah, probably,” says the final boy, holding a hand up to shield red eyes against the sun as he looks at the group. “That sounds like your worst nightmare.”

Maka pulls out her notebook and starts to doodle, looping letters filling up the page. Eyes trained downward, she asks, with a carefully controlled nonchalance: “How about you, Soul?”

He is no better, still hiding behind his hand, and his response comes out as one word: “Iunno.”

“...Well,” Maka says, plucking herself up to look at them all, now. “I want us to do loads this summer. Adventures and fun and new  experiences ! So you’d all better be ready.”

“Yeah!” Black*Star says, reaching up to high-five her. “We’re gonna take this town by  storm .”

“... Let’s get through exams first?” Kid says, raising his eyebrow at Black*Star as he visibly deflates.

They’ve spent many afternoons like this since they were small, laying outside and letting the grass and wind and sun soothe their worries. A group thrown together by chance, but stuck together by choice.

The words become indented as she traces them in her notebook, over and over again:

  I hope things never change. <3

-----------

Two exams down, four to go.

Maka enters the library early, her focus already shifted into science-study mode after the previous day’s final. Already set up, Kid waves her over, and the two of them sit in silence for a while, the flipping of pages occasionally breaking the silence.

Finally, when she glances over at Kid, her eyes land on the book he’s reading.

“You aren’t studying!” she says, surprised.

He has the decency to look a  little  guilty, but not too much. “I felt quite prepared for science, actually, so I’ve started on Socials.”

She pulls the book up to survey the cover. “A History of Reincarnation?”

He pushes the book back down with a little glare at her, though there’s no real annoyance behind it. “I think I’d like to write the essay about this topic, so I’m reading about it again.”

Maka closes her science book. “It’s an interesting topic, isn’t it? What do you think about it?”

He brings a hand to his chin, considering. “Well, the introduction of the concept into psychoanalysis seems to have been a turning point in its study, though I’d say its presence in Hinduism also--”

“No, I mean,” Maka says, because he’s getting on a tangent. He is  very good  at getting on tangents, and she is good at stopping them. “Do you think it could be real?”

Hand retreats from chin to tap on the table. “...Do I believe the soul is immortal, and simply takes on a different form at the end of each life?”

She nods, and his golden eyes survey her, seeming to analyze her expression. “I don’t think we know enough about souls to make a claim,” he says. “But I can’t disprove it, so I suppose it’s possible. ...What do you think?”

Neither of them are sure why there are tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. “I think… that would be amazing. I wonder…” she pauses. “If it’s real, I wonder if souls can find one another, in the next life. I wonder if they meet again and again, and it’s new and different every time.”

He considers this. “If that’s the case, do you think we’d know any better?”

Defensiveness brings her shoulders up to her ears. “I  know  I would.”

He simply nods, because he has the feeling that he knows what this is about, and he knows when to let things lie.

Or does he?

“I guess you couldn’t convince the others to come this morning?” Kid asks her after a moment, eyes fixed back on the page.

“Nope,” she confirms, sufficiently distracted. “Getting Black*Star to wake up at 7:00 on a review day?”

“I thought… Soul might’ve come, though,” Kid says lightly.

“No,” Maka says, shaking her head. “He cares about sleep too much.”

Kid looks up at her, finally.  But there’s something else he cares about more, is what he wants to say.

Because Kid is an astute observer, and today he has made the following observation:

This was a conversation about souls, in every sense of the word.

---------------

Three exams down, three to go.

“I don’t wanna go to class,” Black*Star says, hands extended behind his head as they walk down the hallway. “All we’re doing is review, anyway.”

“Review is important,” Maka says, rolling her eyes. “And you won’t do it on your own, so--”

“This is for Socials, though,” he replies, and suddenly, a little glint appears in his eye that nobody misses. “We should… review for Socials by  being social .”

“That’s not what we’re being tested--”

“I  dare  you,” he says, and the other two boys slow their pace as they look between them, eyebrows raised, as Maka’s eyes narrow.

“You dare me to wh--”

“ Skip  class, miss almost-valedictorian. You won’t do it.”

“You’re right,” she says with a little sniff. “I won’t.”

He stops, rounding on her, and pronounces the lines that he  knows  will work. “You scared?”

“Not scared.” Her voice is cool, but not as aloof as before.

“Scared.”

Her hands ball into fists. “Take it back, Black*Star.”

He grins, because he knows he has won. “Okay, fine.  Catch me  and I will!” And he bursts into action, barreling down the hallway, his laugh bouncing off the walls.

Maka’s quick on his heels, and the other two boys let out a sigh in tandem, hoisting their bags over their shoulders as they resign themselves to  not  reviewing for Socials.

Minutes later, they sit with their backs against painted wood, careful to avoid the splinters, the peeling paint. It’s important to hide, and so they shield themselves around the corner of the shop, away from any prying eyes that could be watching from the schoolyard.

“Wanna bite?” Black*Star says, extending his ice cream so that it almost bumps into her cheek. She glares at him but still gives it a lick, leaning back against the wall and closing her eyes.

The sun on their skin is a salve, weathering away the stress of exams with its warmth.

But there’s a slight tousle in Maka’s hair thanks to the wind, and it feels, strange and scary as it might sound, like  change .

“S’almost time for next class,” Soul says, eyeing Maka out of the corner of his eye.

“... Let’s… just stay?” she says, closing her eyes again.

If Black*Star has opinions about her  wanting  to stay, he keeps them to himself, and in their own small way, they fight against the passing of time with a gentle afternoon in the sun.

Four exams down, two to go.

The music room is another oasis for them; quiet, calm, serene.

Unfortunately, it is an ambiance that is somewhat distorted when Black*Star is pestering Soul about playing the piano.

“Aww c’mon! Just one song?” Black*Star asks, laying on his back on top of the piano as he swings his legs.

“It doesn’t  sound  right when you lay on it like that,” Soul grumbles.

“All right.” Black*Star jumps down, calling his bluff. “All better. Go ahead, then.”

Soul hunches in on himself. It’s an attempt to look defensive, but he just looks defeated. “Don’t wanna.”

“Leave him alone, Black*Star,” Maka says as she lets the door swing shut behind her. “If he doesn’t want to--”

“Don’t  you  wanna hear a song?” he asks her, knocking on the piano top with his wrist so that it echoes.

“I mean.” Maka stops, glancing down at the books in her hand. “I love listening to his music, but--”

“ Love!  ” Black*Star croons. “  Strong words.”

“He…  knows  that,” she says, a fierce flush lighting up her cheeks.

She glances up to see what Soul’s face looks like. It is impossible to discern if he  does  know that, as he has deflated further, head against the piano in embarrassment.

“I’ll… play somethin’,” he says, voice strained against the keys.

Black*Star and Kid exchange a glance.

  They

  are

  hopeless , is what they’d like to say.

---------

Five exams down, one to go.

The late afternoon sun slips past the trees, casting tree-branch shadows on Maka’s legs as she props a final textbook on her lap. Much as she’d  like  to study, her gaze keeps getting drawn to the sky, to the puffy clouds that pass, pulling them closer to the end of exams.

It’s a strange time, she thinks. The in-between. They’re in between exams, in between years of school. And it’s both ephemeral and permanent, the in-between. As soon as one thing ends, they’re moving on to something new, but they  always  face it together.

Maybe that’s  why  this is why the four of them thrive as a group: because they exist  best in the in-between. Between their school and home lives, between the moments of anger and laughter, nestled between each other on grassy fields, gazes trained upward.

She loves them all so  much  that it hurts sometimes - they’re all so different, but so similar in their own ways.

But she can still feel it - something  is  changing. It’s  been  changing for a while.

She can feel it when she watches his fingers dance down the piano, when she wants to look at him for a little too long. And she  thinks  that she catches him doing the same thing, sometimes. But she can’t be sure. Daring to hope feels like too tall a task.

The book slides through her hands and onto the ground; she can’t study when her mind is all over the place.

Instead she stands, and walks toward another field in the distance in an attempt to leave her thoughts behind.

“Wait!” Black*Star’s voice booms in the distance. “We’re coming too!”

The sunflowers aren’t blooming just yet, which gives them enough room to walk through the stalks without feeling too closed in. Maka reaches her hand out to touch the flowers as they pass, velvety stems bringing her a sense of calm, of familiarity. They’ve journeyed to this field more times than she can count; it is a home of little time capsules and hide and seek games, forever a prequel to the scene of coming home and dumping soil out of their shoes.

Suddenly, with a startling amount of vigor, she wants to hold  on to this moment. No need for their last exams, for the unpredictability of summer. She wants to be right here, in their sunflower sea. Just beneath the surface of the world, with the people she loves most.

“Hey.” she says, reaching out with her voice. She’s not sure how close they are, but she knows they will hear her. “Hide and seek? I’ll be it.”

There’s a rumble of assent from various places in the field, and off she goes to find them.

Through the maze she walks, listening for crackles in the underbrush, for clothes catching on sunflower bristles.

She sees him first; catches a glimpse of white between the branches. When their eyes meet, she presses a finger to her lips, splitting a bashful smile down the middle. He’s frozen in place, dumbstruck as she points to his left and then to herself, then slips away again into the brush.

His hand reaches after her of its own accord, hanging in the air.

Would you let me follow if I asked?  is what he’s dying to say.

----------------------

Six exams down, zero to go.

As Maka leaves the classroom, the wind seems to rush past her with an emotional sort of finality, and it’s exhilarating.

Until she realizes that that wind is very literal, spun into a frenzy by a hurricane.

“Black*Star, stop running again!  ” Maka starts to yell after him. “Don’t get in trouble on the last day of-- ”

Another burst of wind flies by her, and her eyes arc toward the ceiling.  “Not you too!” she yells after Soul, who is laughing, running up to give Black*Star a high five.

They’re always egging each other on, she thinks. That’ll never change. But try as she might, she can’t fight the next thought that appears in her head, unbidden:

It’s a nice change to see him smile, isn’t it?

Just in front of her, Kid turns back to her and asks something that sets her nerves on edge:

“Maka. Can we talk outside for a moment?”

---------------

  And onward.

“I’m leaving,” Kid says, sitting across from her on grass, and ice abruptly enters her heart.

“...Just for the summer,” he amends, because the panic in her eyes is palpable. “Apologies. That wasn’t very tactful, I guess.”

Ice thaws quickly when fire is applied. “ Why? ” Maka says, indignant. “But we had plans, where are you--”

“Father got put in charge of another school for the summer,” he says with a little shrug. “I’m going too. He needs help in the library.”

She wants to pout, but she also doesn’t want to act like a child.

“I wanted us all to be together this summer,” she says softly, hand on her notebook, where wishes from sunny days past are etched.

“... I know,” he says. “I know you don’t like… change.”

The wind whistles through the trees, making her pigtails flutter.

“But,” he continues. “ I  was thinking. Since things are already about to change, you could change things  more . If you wanted to.”

She’s confused, and she knows he’s trying to give her some sort of clue, eyes boring into her just a little impatiently. When she doesn’t give him visual confirmation, he sighs, rubbing the line between his eyebrows with a finger.

“What I’m trying to say is, you could sit here with me on this grass like we’ve always done.” He levels her with a look. “Or you could go up there, and  change  something that you’ve been wanting to change for a while.”

She follows the direction of his hand, the wind making the tree branch shadows dance on his extended finger, and she  knows  where it leads.

He’s pointing at the window to the music room.

------------------- 

And onward.

If there’s one thing Maka knows, it is how to be brave. It’s not something conscious -- it’s something that lives in her  essence , that has been with her since the beginning of her life. Maybe in other lives, too.

And it is this entrenched, beautiful, cosmic bravery that leads her up the stairs to burst into the music room to interrupt a rhapsody, who stares at her from the piano with a peculiar new song in his soul.

She’s breathless from the run, leaning into the door as it shuts behind her.

He’s breathless because she’s never looked at him quite that way before.

The late afternoon sun filters in through the curtains, spilling across the desks, the musical instruments. Dust motes float on the beams, catching sunlight as they pass.

“...Here,” she says, moving towards the window. “Can you… come over here for a second?”

“Y-yeah.” He stands, edges towards her. Beside the window, the curtains flutter around them, whipped into a frenzy by a whirlwind.

“I don’t… like change,” Maka says.

He nods. He’s known that as long and as  well  as he’s known her.

She takes a step toward him, and it sends heat straight to his toes. “But I’d like to change… something. Okay?”

There’s a flush in  her  cheeks, now, that has little to do with the heat.

“Okay,” he says, but it comes out as a whisper.

“Just… just tell me if--” She takes another step towards him, and he forgets to breathe as he watches the space between her eyebrows bunch together, sunlight catching on her eyelashes. “If anything isn’t--”

A shaky laugh escapes him.  Doesn’t she know he’d follow her anywhere? “Yeah, okay. I’ll tell you.”

She doesn’t know if souls can remember one other, from one life to the next. But she’s determined that in this existence, in this  universe , she will make sure that this, a tenuous connection between two souls, it’s something new and different and beautiful.

And so, with this in mind, she closes her eyes, closes the  space  between them, and the dust motes burst into galaxies.

<3

[the-great-bbe]

For the fanfic asks: 3, 14, 19? 😊

3. favorite line/scene you wrote this year

The ending of “Queen of the May.” Starting from the maypole dance onward, if you listen to “Fire Temple” from the Midsommar soundtrack, you can definitely tell where I was inspired. The imagery of death and life and destruction and spring all in a whirlwind as Rhaenys finally lets go of her self-control and lets herself scream...it was so fun to write!!

14. a fic you didn’t expect to write

Both “Our Lady Suspiriorum” and “That Nameless Agony” were basically written in one go in a matter of an hour or so, and both quite suddenly. For “Our Lady,” it was because I just really loved Suspiria 2018′s main theme Suspirium and while listening to it one day the fic just came out. For “Nameless,” it was caused by a convo between myself and @sunontherhoyne where we discussed what it would’ve been like if Mama Martell had been around during the Sack of Kings Landing and then suddenly boom fic. Sure wish I could do that on command! lol

19. any new fics to start next year

I am tentatively thinking of a Star Wars AU fic since The Mandalorian reminded me that I love that series. I also have an Arianne-centric fic cooking on a back burner, as well as the “Come My Darling” Oberyn and Rhaenys AU.

HOPEFULLY I FINISH THE GIRL WITH BLOOD MOON EYES AND A SONG OF THE SEA NEXT YEAR

[dougrobyngoold]

March Madness - Tucson, AZ

The above picture was taken from one of the cafeterias at University Hospital in Tucson, where I had breakfast while Doug was in surgery.  I think the surgery lasted a couple of hours, the surgeon talked to me after the surgery - all went well and the atrial fibrillation should stop.  After a one-night stay, Doug was sent on his way.  We were grateful to have the surgery over with and to be on the road to recovery.  Activities were limited for a week, then Doug was free to resume normal activities.  Onward we go!

A week after his surgery, Doug was back on the golf course, awesome!

HOWE TIME FLIES

About 10 days after Doug’s surgery, our friends Art and Donna Howe came to visit us.  It was their first time in Tucson, so we planned a whirlwind tour to give them a little taste of desert living.  

On their first day in town, we headed south to the Titan Missile Museum, we managed to arrive in time to sign up for a tour (they fill up fast!)  We have been on the tour three times now, we still love it.  I would recommend a visit when you are in the area, it is just off I-19, about a 30 minute drive from downtown Tucson.  After the museum, we drove further south to Tubac.  We wandered around town, taking in a few of the artisan shops and some of the local artwork:

One of multiple painted javelinas in the village of Tubac.

Donna made a new friend in Tubac.

After a lunch stop at one of the local restaurants, we meandered back through the village for a little more exploring.  Getting our fill of Tubac, we continued southward to the Santa Cruz Spice Company.  We did a little spice shopping and then made our final stop of the day at the Tumacacori National Historic Park.  It was a gorgeous spring day, which made for some fantastic photo ops at the mission.

Look at those spring flowers and the magnificent sky!

We stopped at the tortilla and beans stand inside the park - yummy!

Crystal-clear day, the Santa Rita Mountains in the distance.

The craftsmanship on the buildings is amazing.

This moth was on one of the sidewalks at the mission, such pretty markings!

What a fun-filled day!  We headed back to our trailer for dinner and games.  More adventures planned for tomorrow!

We filled the morning of the second day with a trip to Barrio Bread, a short walk along Pantano Wash, and then lunch on our patio.  We went out to Saguaro National Park East to show them a crested saguaro on the Loma Verde Trail and for a sunset from Javelina Rocks.  We ended the day with a trip to El Molinito for take-out and then went to the Arizona Beer House to enjoy our food and a few brews.

Day 3 - we headed to downtown Tucson.  We walked along the Turquoise Trail, checking out the history of the area.  We enjoyed adult beverages at The Congress Hotel Bloody Mary Bar and even found some ice cream for Art!  We ended the day at the trailer, perfect weather for outdoor entertaining!

Day 4 - after a breakfast of sausage gravy & biscuits (vegan-style), we went to the range to whack a few golf balls around.  We love the driving range at Fred Enke - the view of the Catalina Mountains is wonderful!

After golf, we made our way out to the Desert Museum.  At this point, we were experiencing a mild shut-down and a few restrictions due to Covid-related concerns.  A few of the exhibits at the Museum were closed and they were not doing the Raptor shows.  However, we ran into a family on our way into the museum and they gave us 4 free passes.  We had a great time wandering around the museum, it is always beautiful out there.

Brittle brush was blooming and the views to the west were spectacular!

Caught the javelinas during naptime.

March is usually a great time to visit the museum, the temperatures aren’t too hot and the cactus are starting to bloom.  We were not disappointed:

We completed our exploration of the Desert Museum and made the long drive back to our place.  Happy hour, dinner, and then more games wrapped up our final night with the Howes.  We are so happy that they finally came for a visit, we hope they will make it an annual thing!

Thanks for coming to see us!

COVID INTERRUPTUS

The week following our friends visit things became more serious around the Covid virus.  Restaurants and indoor spaces were closed down and we were forced to limit our activities with friends here in the park.  Luckily, outdoor activities were a good option for us - we took lots of walks and bike rides.  The weather was gorgeous and the flowers were blooming.

Pretty blooms along Pantano Wash during one of my many walks.

More desert colors!

Some evenings the sky just explodes around here, we feel pretty lucky to be in a place where we can be outside enjoying nature most of the time.

Photos from our 15 mile walk along Pantano Wash - the weather was cool, but we didn’t get wet, just a little wind-blown!

A nice rattler I came across on a bike ride up Harrison Greenway - yikes!

I was very grateful for my new e-bike, lots of great rides along the bike path here in town.  Kept me from going stir crazy!

TANQUE VERDE RIDGE HIKE

During March Doug started training for his planned 2022 trip on the Continental Divide Trail (CDT).  The CDT runs 3100 miles from the border of Mexico to the border of Canada, staying within 50 miles of the Continental Divide along its course.  He is doing 3 consecutive days a week of 15+ miles each day with his backpack, just to see how his body holds up.  Friday and Saturday he does his miles along the Pantano River Park path, then on Sundays he does an actual hike.  I am joining him for 2 of those 3 days, my feet need a day off!  Today we hiked around 16 miles on the Tanque Verde Ridge Trail.  The hike is fairly steep and I think it is an understatement that my toes were REALLY happy to be done with the descent.  Pretty sure I am going to need a few recovery days after this hike!  In spite of the physical discomfort, it was a beautiful day in the desert and things were blooming along the ridge and Doug grilled us Beyond Meat burgers for dinner. Perfect end to the day!

REALITY HITS

By the end of March, we had come to the conclusion that our trip to Europe for this summer was going to have to be canceled.  We had reservations to fly to England on May 9th and had planned to be over there until some time in August.  Our plan had been to stay at AirBnBs, we were very disappointed to have to cancel all our plans, but Europe was closed down due to the spread of the Covid virus and things here in the United States were not looking any better.  A large portion of our Canadian friends here in the RV park had already headed north, due to recommendations from their government.  Social gatherings were frowned upon and we were doing our best to follow all of the social distancing guidelines in place.  We decided that our best option is to stay in Tucson for the time being, as many RV parks and campgrounds are closed in the U.S. at this point due to Covid.  We feel fortunate to have a place where we can wait this out.  Guess we will just have to hang around for a few more Tucson sunsets.

[pretzcl]

— after the storm

summary: i’ve had this question for a really long time. why do good girls like bad guys? 

pairing: badboy!jaemin x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k 

genre: dash of angst, a scoop of fluff and egg. just egg. 

a/n: it’s not my best work, it’s essentially a collage of fics i wrote last year and glued into one google doc. bon appetit

Jaemin’s crosses his arms over his chiselled chest. His back leant against the nose of his shoe-polished black car, parked under a carport. Straightening up once his gang of hollering buffoons encircle around him. 

Na Jaemin. Whispers follow him and the pack of howling morons he walks with, down the corridors, exuding an air of confidence and carelessness. Leaving a trail of distraught girls on a path of shattered hearts and missed calls. No matter how many broken hearts, lines of girls melt under his piercing stare and his self-assured grin. Most, intrigued by the mysteriousness in the dark pools of his eyes behind his tousled brown hair, a prize to be won. Few despised the taunts in his arrogant half smirk, a cliche.

Currently, you identify yourself as the latter. Hair whipping back as you set a path ablaze with a burning desire to give the jerk a piece of your mind. People in the midst of your march blended in a mass of grey figures. Finally, you come to an abrupt stop behind the pack.

“Jaemin!” you shout, demanding to be heard amongst the handful of jackasses. One by one they turn to face you like turning over a deck of cards. The King of Hearts very last.

His eyes glint devilishly as he stares you up and down. You have to consciously uncurl your fingers twitching by your side, deeply resisting the delicious urge to slap the smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“Hey princess,” he huskily greets you. The frustration boiling inside of you fumes in hot vapours off your body at the pet name.

Begrudgingly, you choose to ignore it and focus on the primary source of your anger towards him.

“Quit the act, Jaemin. Where the hell were you?” you interrogate, narrowing your eyes only on him and not his friends who were clearly enjoying themselves.

“Why?” he muses, in perhaps the most innocent questioning tone he could muster. “Did you miss me... princess?” he rolls the last word of his tongue before his face curls smugly.

“Do you think this is funny? I waited for 3 hours for you at the library. 3 hours! I don’t need to help you. I’m not the one failing here so you could have the integrity to at least, show up,” you vent, too overwrought to care if you were embarrassing him in front of his friends. You didn’t know if his friends knew if he went to tutoring but currently you couldn’t care less as a fiery heats up your face. 

He stands there totally unresponsive to your words. Though his jaw clenches and his eyes darkly narrowed down at your form. You refuse to shrivel under his gaze. Fixed in your stance in front of him, you continue to wait for an apology or even a pathetic excuse. Anything! You’re not a doormat. And you certainly are not a princess. But nothing emits from the silence and you decide to break it when you scoff, “Forget it.” Desperately fighting back the tears brimming at your lashes as the frustration is trying to release itself from within you.

Not sparing him a single glance, you turn on the back of your heel and trudge into the waning glumness. To where that might be, you don’t know. But you know you need to get away. You drown the sniggers and jeers echoing each step you make with a pair of earphones. The lofty melody hums softly through your ears while you disappear into the smudges of charcoal.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

The pitter patter of droplets against the stone pavement drones through your body like the chatter of a full classroom. An unanticipated flash of an ivory streak triggers the rolls of ominous thunder and quickened steps along the path. The matted, wool of darkened greys hovers over you, ushering you to scurry albeit, your feet were tentative, wary of the slick pavements wet with murky puddles.

“Y/N!” a voice from behind you competed against the waging war taking place in the sky. In a confused daze, you turn around. But you wish you hadn’t acted so hastily upon recognising the owner of the booming voice.

He approaches you in a strut almost, like an off-duty male model, totally unaffected by the icy daggers flying through the harsh winds. A hand wrapped around the ornate handle to an umbrella while the other hand is tucked cooly in his ripped black jeans.

“Where’s your umbrella?” he asks while stretching his hand so the ornate handle clasped in his hands is between both of you. “Hmm?” he lowers down to meet you at eye level waiting for a response.  

“I forgot it,” you murmur, focusing your stare on the slick, darkened concrete. Aggravated by the teasing tone on the tip of his tongue but ultimately choosing to bite on your own tongue. If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t be sheltered from the drizzles of rain boring mercilessly down on the street.

“So you’re saying Miss perfect grades forgot her own umbrella on a day like this?” he snickers through as smirk stretched along his lips as taunting as the tone of his voice.

Halting in your steps, a glower deepens on your face. “I was in a rush this morning,” you clip.

“I was just teasing you don’t have to take everything so personally,” he scoffs. Frustration boils inside your stomach when you caught his eyeball roll from the corner of your eye.

Your hand curls into a clenched fist and you have to actively release the tight grip as you breathe out, “I don’t want to endure your teasing my whole way home.”

“What’s your problem today? Did you fail a test or something?” he sniggers.

“You know exactly what my problem is,” you spit looking him directly in the cold dark abyss that so many fell for. Any amusement dancing in his brown hues is flooded by the sharp coldness pouring into his eyes. The unreadable expression etches across his face as he snaps his focus to street onward after shoving the umbrella in your hand.

“Whatever,” is the last thing he says before disappearing into the lifeless, blurs.

You stood alone, shivering as the rain teems upon the umbrella wobbling in your grip. A mixture of disbelief and resentment fires up in your chest at the coldness cemented in his narrow glare before he stormed off.

“Unbelievable. He has no right to be pissed off at me,” you scoff to yourself, kicking the back of your heel into the pavement. Resuming your trudge in the midst of the gloominess devouring the day.

Somehow, the fury of anger washes away in the rhythmic beats of the raindrops. Each drop of rainfall, a clear beat upon the black fabric before they cascade from the rim like a waterfall. The trance of rain from under the umbrella blows out any fire lit up on a match set in your chest.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Near a busy intersection, cars rushing past with wipers in full wings, you gasp. A blank white surges over your paralysed body and bleary vision. It feels like your frozen in time until a firm grip pulls you back and turns you around, earphones slipping from nooks of your ears, in one swift movement. Your eyes widen registering the panting boy standing in front of you.

“What are you thinking you were going to get hit by a car!” Jaemin barks at you while roughly shaking you by your shoulders. A rambunctious series of car horns quickly followed and you can only assume it translates to what Jaemin had yelled at you for. You only blankly blink up at him as your mind tries to rapidly rewind to you approaching the intersection.

“You know for a smart girl you’re really stupid,” he sighs hanging his head low.

“Jaemi-”

“Promise me you won’t do something like that again,” his words maybe scolding though his voice wispy and soft like angel wings. He searches into your eyes and for the first time, you notice his damp, bangs obscuring his large, brown eyes shroud the kindness they possess.

“I promise,” you mumble feeling breathless at your heart beating erratically.

“I’m sorry for leaving you by yourself and for not coming to tutor lesson today,” he mutters at the ground. Voice is hoarse as he pants a whirlwind of heavy breaths intermitted by a few stifled coughs. You stood dumbfounded hopelessly watching the exhausted boy and scanning how his hair becomes one with his face, wetly draping over his sharp bone structures. Shifting your gaze to the street behind him you struggle to fight the twitching feeling of wonder resounding from within you.

“Jaemin, did you run all the way up the street to save me?” you softly ask. No longer harbouring any anger or frustration from earlier today. Your fingers with a mind of their own sweep a sodden lock from his forehead revealing those big brown orbs and you gently tilt his chin up.

“Maybe,” he says in an even softer tone.  Something totally unfamiliar uncurls itself in enormous wave engulfing over you and you crash your lips onto his. Bursting the droplets on the plush of his lips. Jaemin's hand rested below your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as you pull back afraid of losing yourself in him. Your lips brushing against each other as your breaths mingle. “Y/N,” he whispers slowly, prolonging each letter as if to savour them. And in this very moment, your senses wisp away and you can no longer think straight. Never before has your name ever felt so mystifying. Not caring if the water soaks through to chill your skin, your hands run down his spine, pulling him closer until there’s no space left between you two. So close you could feel the beating of his heart against your chest and you lose yourself to him.

[thelegwarmer]

Royal Success-es or Royal Failures?

Thoughts on Royal Sussexes inconsistencies, secrecy and aggressive PR mud campaigns. 

Many people will argue that it was about time the Royal family dropped its stiff, monochromatic tradition to welcome a vivacious, bi-racial, outspoken commoner, a somewhat obscure, actress into Buckingham Palace. After all, the US has already stepped into history by electing an MoC as their President. Times are changing and people are uniting (unless they’re on twitter ;)).  

Prince Harry, the world’s beloved and popular cheeky ginger who has outspokenly battled with mental health issues since his mother’s untimely and tragic death, finally found someone he could share his life with. Naturally, the world was surprised when the news broke out. Just like a Harlequin book, a whirlwind romance had taken over the world, press, and tabloids. We were all taken by surprise when a few months after their relationship became public, we were presented with a very manicured Americanised televised engagement announcement. Yay for Harry... but wait…why the rush? The two of them hardly knew each other, they hardly ever spent more than 3 days together in the same place, especially as Meghan was still working on Suits.

From that point onwards, the seemingly bashful, smiley, touchy-hairy Meghan who kept holding on to Harry (hard to walk on ill-fitting  6” stilettos) and touching him every photo opportunity she could,  progressively turned into a rule-breaking, humanitarian -of sorts- arrogant and in-compliant to British culture, social justice warrior. It didn’t end there. A few short months after their royal wedding, Meghan decides to announce at Princess Eugenie’s wedding that she is with child. We were hesitantly happy for Harry and Meghan but the timing of the announcement and the fact that rumors had been going around that Meghan was unable to fall pregnant due to multiple abortions, had people baffled. 

Since Eugenie’s wedding, Meghan’s ego grew and with it grew her thirst for attention. Oh yes, the bump also grew into late-term proportions on/off throughout her pregnancy. Her due date was never revealed to the public and it kept changing. From early spring to the end of April to beginning of May…it even went up to 21st June! So many articles about Harry and Meghan were circulating the press and internet on a daily basis. Most of which were obvious PR spins from the Sussexes. Then there was the rift with the Cambridges. Shocker! The world was scratching its head. What is going on inside the Palace walls? Why all the drama?

The final straw was pulled when malicious articles circulated the press, insinuating that Prince William had been cheating Duchess Catherine. Of course, we all knew where that came from especially as we were fully aware that Meghan had set up a well-oiled PR machine running. A smear campaign against the heir to the throne, to gain popularity and public affection. Meanwhile, the bump was inflating and deflating and her extravagant looks were hitting the news and making people talk. Are we watching an over produced film about the Royals? Well, in reality her wardrobe and PR antics most probably cost a handful more than a decent action-filled movie. We’ll never forget the New York baby shower. Rent-a-crowds, paparazzi, pink flowers (why pink if the baby is a boy?), celebrities, wanna-be’s and a lot of faux-secrecy.

Meghan was monetizing her pregnancy and we could see right through her.

Fast forward 4 months later when is baby is supposedly due. Assuming her due date was end of April according to calculations made since she claimed she was already 16 weeks pregnant at PE’s wedding. The end of April came and went and Meghan was still no where to be seen or heard. Well, except for her PR team who were feverishly feeding everyone’s anticipation with fake news, conundrums and sugary articles. Meanwhile in various ’secret' twitter accounts handled by Meghan, the continuous attack on the British press and the unrelenting race card pity-party was picking up momentum. Surely this was not a result of pregnancy hormones…

Then came the day we will all remember as the day, the lid was lifted to reveal that not all is as it seems. Secrets and lies are cloaking the Sussexes. On May 6th, Meghan went into 'labour' 6 hours after she gave birth and the birth announcement an hour after announcing she was in labour. To put it in Harry’s words, mind-blowing.

Naturally, everyone started asking questions. None of this made any sense. Who orchestrated this? Did she give birth in Frogmore Cottage? Journalists camped outside never saw anyone go in or out the cottage. Oh, wait, she gave birth at Portland hospital but no one can officially verify this (no medical staff signatures on official birth announcement). Meghan and Harry are keeping tight-lipped about the birth. Well, except for that awkward interview Harry gave, at the Royal stables exclaiming how ‘over the moon’ he is. Yes, Harry, we too are over THIS moon (bump). His lack of specifics or genuine enthusiasm was noted by many. Perhaps he was sleep deprived and shell-shocked. The birth of a baby can indeed be overwhelming for new parents. So, we continue giving them the benefit of the doubt…until two days later.

Contrary to their initial wish to keep the birth announcement and baby reveal low-key and private, H & M decided to give a 3' televised interview in St George's Hall at Windsor Castle. The grandeur of it all. How humble. Harry came with baby Archie tightly swaddled in his arms, seemingly sound asleep. The whole interview was ‘off’ so was the way they presented the newest member of the royal family but for reasons, I will keep for myself at this point but I’m not the only one who noticed the oddity of this pair. Royal journalists have been tweeting and writing cloaked articles about why the UK taxpayers, the royalists, the members of the commonwealth are deprived of a decent view and photo of the 7th heir to the throne. Given the 9,5 months of overbearing bump holding and ill-fitting designer clothing to accentuate the belly, we are at least entitled to have a couple of close up photos of this cute little baby. He is after all, the first bi-racial baby born into the royal family.

[half-elfdisaster]

Session 40

1st July 3529 AT

2 more days of exhausted walking when they come across something strange. They feel a sudden change in the air, almost like they pass through an invisible wall. The air feels a lot denser as it becomes slightly harder to breath and move through.

Being very cautious but seeing no way to avoid it they continue on into the weird atmosphere.

Throughout journeying they suddenly start to witness weird random effects; Artemyste just manages to avoid tripping over an invisible rock, gravity reverses itself on Summer’s loose items (coin purse, hood etc) as they float upwards, and Artemyste uncontrollably casts Thunderwave, hurting some people around her. They are very confused by it all but see no way to stop it.

Summer using her winged boots to fly up sees that the land around them is also experiencing effects due to whatever’s happening. She witnesses willow trees branches floating upwards and areas of land producing small pockets of extreme weather, such as whirlwinds, snow, or lightning.

The most disturbing thing they encounter however is a flock of ravens sat on a bare tree staring at them. They find that each of the birds speak in one of their loved ones voices (Summer her mother, Iko his master, Sarhiri her sister, Artemyste her uncle and Torven his old friend group, all talking in unison). The closer then moved to the birds the voices would praise and call them onwards while the further away they moved they would shriek in pain as if being tortured. They move on, watching as the bird finally fly off, only upside-down.

Sarhiri randomly casts a spell and gets Dimension Door, getting teleported 415ft away. She lands in an orchard filled with blue apple trees. Two Yuan-ti Pureblood women are picking apples from the trees, one of the women is also blue. In the distance she sees the top of a small town with steam rising up.

The others find her with Locate Object and arrive just in time to see an explosion in the town. The two women seem unaffected by it.

A scout group jump out at them, looking very worried and confused by their appearance, speaking to them in Abyssal, which nobody in the group understands.

Walking away from the scouts they attempt to stealth around the town to see whats going on. Unfortunately Iko gets noticed by some of the yuan-ti child who come over. Never having seen a human, tabaxi or tiefling before they are utterly baffled by the group, one of the kids clinging onto Summers tail as she flies. Iko gives them alcohol in an attempt to distract them, while Artemyste and Torven stay hidden.

Eventually catching the attention of the rest of the town an elder approaches who talks Common. She tells them they are a tribe who have been cut off from society, living within an ancient magic war zone, which randomly effects them magically. She says the only other time they have seen people was about 20 years ago when aggressive men in white uniforms came to run tests on the ground, they avoided interacting with them.

On the way out of this area they get trapped in one of the random weather pockets, suddenly becoming much harder to move in the sleet. Artemyste, Iko and Summer manage to get out quite easily while Sarhiri and Torven repeatedly fall over on the ice.

They finally exit the magically scarred land and make camp. Several deep conversations are had; Summer lies that her parents are dead after Iko asks who the voice from the bird was. He sees through the lie. Iko asks Sarhiri to attempt to do Sending to his master, Keo. It’s hard to tell if it works as there is no reply. Sarhiri talks about their gods with Torven. Fnally Torven attempts to explain what feelings are to Iko.

2nd July 3529 AT

Today is Great Moon’s Glory, a festival of Celestian. Artemstye celebrates by getting Sarhiri to send a message to Krul, her bird grandma, who wishes her the best.

They finally arrive at the river that cuts across Eowesoa, meaning all they have to do is cross to enter the other nation. This is harder then thought as the river is 3 miles wide.

Iko gets out his giant duck and flies across only to realise they land back on the side that they left from. Iko and Torven attempt to fly across a couple more times, only to find each time they land back next to the girls.

While they are gone, a kuo toa (a humanoid with a fish head) exits the river and gives the girls a very shitty riddle; “Do they get naked or do they bare their souls? Who knows. Figure it out through trial and error, bitch” and “for skinny dipping or heart to hearts? Both if you know what you’re doing”. Confused by the riddles the fish man repeats it before giving them a strip tease and disappearing.

The boys return and because sharing a secret sounds so awful Iko gets naked and does some experiments to try to cross, such as walking along the bottom of the river and breathing under water like the fish man did.

Realising they’re eventually going to have to say a secret Iko, Torven and Sarhiri share theirs together while naked before they make it across. Not telling Artemyste and Summer it worked they also get naked while sharing a secret.

Making it across they realise the fish man was trolling them on getting naked and Summer swears to kill him if she ever sees him again.

[piiercinggaze]

Kimetsu No Yaiba Verse

Name: Keiji Shinogi

Age: 23

Affiliation: Former Demon Slayer (Retired at 19)

Weapon of Choice: Sais (main blade is sharpened and able to cut through demon skin)

Breath Style: Falcon Breathing Style (Branching from Wind Breathing)

Breath Style Moves:

First Form: Piercing Beak - A vertical, downward stab (ideally near the neck area against an opponent) and a slash outward to free the weapon.  

Second Form: Winged Strike - Outstretched arms horizontally slice through the opponent, coming from opposite directions to intersect at the slicing point of the object/demon. The motion is similar to the falcon flapping its wings.

Third Form: Swooping Talons - A midair attack that causes a forward roll motion that is intended to slice downwards. 

Fourth Form: Swift Slice -  The attack may be a simple diagonal slice, but it extends farther than the actual blade (where the air becomes an extension of the blade that can slice through skin).

Fifth Form: Tailwind Blow - Primarily used during windy battles, the user uses the wind to help 

Sixth Form: Feathery Whirlwind- A succession of several slices in a spiral motion. It is meant to disorient the opponent while producing medium damage.

Additional Abilities: 

Total Concentration Breathing -  A state where Breath Style users inhale the maximum amount of oxygen within a specific breath pattern to raise their physical and mental strength to their utmost limits. He’s able to 

Enhanced Strength - Keiji has build up his body over several years with the training of both his breath ability. Despite not actively attacking demons anymore, he does keep his strength up. 

Immense Endurance - Though his endurance is not as great as it was prior to retirement, he is still able to fight for extended amounts of time if need be. 

Flexibility - Keiji is able to maneuver around very well. 

Keen Observation - Keiji has shockingly great eyesight and the ability to observe the smallest of differences. He has used this abillity to help track down demons, take note in traps to avoid, and find perfect weak points to strike. 

Great Swordsmanship - Though his primary weapon have been sais, Keiji knows how to wield a katana blade. He keeps a nichirin blade in his home, yet it has not been used in several years. 

Biography:

Raised by a single mother, he had lived a fairly simple life. The existence was not unknown to him, as his mother often burnt wisteria incense and mumbled prayers and chants to help ward them off. 

Though, he often warded off bullies from younger children. However, as he grew, he starts to notice strange instances and disappearances coming around his neighborhood. Upon investigation, he had stumbled across a fight between a demon and a slayer, who he eventually learns his name is Shinchi Abo. Being escorted home after the fight, Shinchi educates him about the Demon Slayer Corps, where humans train their best to combat the growing number of demons that existed in Japan. 

Keiji was 13 when he began his training. However, a year before his final selection participation, Shinchi leaves the rest of his training for endurance and strength up to him as he continues onward as a slayer. Shinchi tells Keiji to come find him once he has made it into the Corps. By 16, he had taken part in the Final Selection. He is able to survive the week of hell by slaying demons, maintaining a fair amount of foraging and hunting each night, and finding safe spots to sleep for small periods of time. Upon earning his place in the Corps, Keiji does his due diligence and fights for the side of survival... and begins his journey to find his master once again.

At 17, Keiji manages to reunite with his master, the two would partner up in their fights, facing higher level demons and ranking up to Pillar status at age 18.

When Keiji is 19, things take a turn for the worst. 

During a particular mission to defeat a demon, he and Shinchi had been looking for the demon in a small village. Little did they know of her strength and power against the townsfolk. Her demon blood art had included delusions and trickery that affected the both of them. What Keiji believed to be the demon before him, was actually SHINCHI who believed Keiji was the demon. Turning against one another, they had fought fiercely until Keiji placed a fatal blow. Piercing the heart of his master, the illusion disappears, and the truth reveals itself. The sheer surprise and horror of both their faces had been burned into each others’ memories. 

Keiji had killed his master. 

He had little time to mourn, given the demon’s intentions to kill and devour the remaining slayer. Under great influence of the blood art, by the time Keiji kills the demon, his mental state had diminished greatly. Traumatized enough to be unable to fight another demon (or face another slayer) without remembering the haunting images of his slain master.

He no longer goes to the Demon Slayer Corps. He convinces his (and his master’s) crow to tell the remaining members that he has died defeating the demon. He lives by himself in a small town village far away, tucking away the blades he once proudly owned and living the rest of his life as just another villager.

Trivia:

Keiji has a haori he wears of his own, following this design. It is a gold haori with a pattern lining primarily the interior. 

Keiji no longer does Total Concentration Breathing as often as he used to. Since he no longer practices his form, he has little to no need for it.

Few people have approached him to be trained Falcon Breathing, yet he has yet to agree to the terms offered. 

He was Hashira for one year before retirement. He does not formerly resign, but instead disappears from everyone for 3 years. He starts to resurface every now and then, but lives far away from the location of all the slayers.

[ryttu3k]

You know what it’s time to do? The Hoenn League!

After some Blissey base grinding, and also an undocumented visit to Sea Mauville:

Snowdrop the Mightyena | level 64 | female | Intimidate | Lonely, loves to eat | Ice Fang, Crunch, Odor Sleuth, Rock Smash | found route 101

Chickweed the Blaziken | level 60 | male | Blaze | Serious, takes plenty of siestas | Flame Charge, Blaze Kick, Brick Break, Cut | starter

Sage the Claydol | level 59 | no thank you | Levitate | Bold, sturdy body | Earth Power, Extrasensory, Ancient Power, Dazzling Gleam | found route 111

Edelweiss the Skarmory | level 59 | male | Sturdy | Gentle, very finicky | X-Scissor, Steel Wing, Fly, Swift | found route 113

Oleracea the Manectric | level 58 | female | Static | Brave, capable of taking hits | Discharge, Volt Switch, Flamethrower, Strength | found route 118

Sequoia the Gyarados | level 57 | female | Intimidate | Bashful, nods off a lot | Surf, Ice Fang, Crunch, Waterfall | found route 106

Alrighty. Let’s do this!

God, the exteriors of the buildings are incredibly gorgeous.

First up, Sidney. Alrighty, Chickie, time to shine!

Elite Four Sidney

Mightyena, level 50. Mega-boosted Brick Break OHKO!

Shiftry, level 50. Flame Charge, Chickie tanks an Extrasensory, Full Restore, another Flame Charge down to reds, ANOTHER Full Restore, another Flame Charge, crit, and it’s down!

Absol, level 52. Brick Break OHKO!

Sharpedo, level 50. Switch to Oli, Discharge OHKO!

Cacturne, level 50. Back to Chickie, Brick Break OHKO!

One down, four to go. Onwards to Phoebe, Snowdrop to the front!

Elite Four Phoebe

Dusclops, level 51. Crunch OHKO!

Sableye, level 51. Takes some damage from Fake Out, Ice Fang down to half, Snowdrop tanks a Power Gem, another Ice Fang takes it down!

Dusknoir, level 53. Crunch OHKO!

Banette, level 51. Crunch OHKO!

Another Banette, level 51. Crunch OHKO!

Good pupper.

Lots of snow. Chickie back to the front!

Elite Four Glacia

Glalie, level 52. Mega-boosted Blaze Kick OHKO!

Walrein, level 54. They are weak to Fighting, but Chickie is also weak to Water, so let’s get Oli in to be safe. Discharge OHKO!

Froslass, level 52. UGH Confuse Ray. You know what, fine. Snowdrop to the front! Ominous Wind doesn’t do much, Crunch OHKO!

Another Froslass, level 52. Crunch OHKO!

Another Glalie, level 52. Back to Chickie to finish it off. It uses Protect, Blaze Kick OHKO!

Time for the trickiest of the E4 for this run! Don't have any actual Ice, Dragon, or Fairy-types. Gonna go between Snowball's Ice Fang and Sage's Dazzling Gleam, although they're not STAB. Sage to the front!

Elite Four Drake

Altaria, level 53. Dazzling Gleam down to half, it uses Cotton Guard. Another  and it’s - oh no, a sliver left. Sage tanks Dragon Pulse like a goddamn champ, Drake uses a Full Restore. Dazzling Gleam down to half, then another, which crits and takes it down!

Kingdra, level 53. This is the most risky - Ice isn’t SE, but Sage is weak to Water. Dazzling Gleam down to yellows, it uses Yawn you DICK, but it’s down with another Dazzling Gleam!

Salamence, level 55. Sage is fucking asleep, so in comes Snowdrop! Ice Fang OHKO!

Flygon, level 53. Ice Fang OHKO!

Flygon again, level 53 again. Ice Fang OHKOs again!

*cracks knuckles*

Whatever happens, they did good.

Champion Steven

Skarmory, level 57. Oli gets it down to 1HP with Discharge. It sends out Spikes. Steven uses a Full Restore. Another Discharge back down to 1HP, and it’s paralysed! A third Discharge, and it’s down!

Aggron, level 57. Sage gets it down to 1HP with Earth Power. Didn’t see what they got hit with, but either way it didn’t do much damage. Another Earth Power, and it’s down!

Armaldo, level 57. Edel gets it down to yellows with Steel Wing. Rock Blast does a small amount of damage, another Steel Wing finishes it!

Cradily, level 57. Edel stays in, gets it down to yellows with Steel Wing. Ancient Power gets Edel down to yellows, another Steel Wing finishes it!

Claydol, level 57. Sequoia OHKOs it with Waterfall!

Finally, Metagross, level 59. Chickie is weak to Zen Headbutt, so... Snowdrop, go! My strongest Pokemon, my first caught Pokemon, my oldest companion other than Chickie. Crunch down to yellows, GIGA IMPACT JEEZ - just down to yellows, she’s okay. Another Crunch and it’s DOWN!

Made it <3

Brendan PLS.

Lovely credits <3

Current Team (pre-League levels)

Chickweed the Blaziken | level 60 | male | Blaze | Serious, takes plenty of siestas | Flame Charge, Blaze Kick, Brick Break, Cut | starter

Snowdrop the Mightyena | level 64 | female | Intimidate | Lonely, loves to eat | Ice Fang, Crunch, Odor Sleuth, Rock Smash | found route 101

Sage the Claydol | level 59 | no thank you | Levitate | Bold, sturdy body | Earth Power, Extrasensory, Ancient Power, Dazzling Gleam | found route 111

Oleracea the Manectric | level 58 | female | Static | Brave, capable of taking hits | Discharge, Volt Switch, Flamethrower, Strength | found route 118

Sequoia the Gyarados | level 57 | female | Intimidate | Bashful, nods off a lot | Surf, Ice Fang, Crunch, Waterfall | found route 106

Edelweiss the Skarmory | level 59 | male | Sturdy | Gentle, very finicky | X-Scissor, Steel Wing, Fly, Swift | found route 113

Reserves

Wattle the Taillow | level 9 | female | Guts | Quirky, alert to sounds | Peck, Growl, Focus Energy, Quick Attack | found Petalburg Woods

Bristlecone the Zigzagoon | level 14 | female | Gluttony | Lonely, good endurance | Tackle, Headbutt, Baby-Doll Eyes, Odor Sleuth | found route 103

Onion the Whismur | level 16 | female | Soundproof | Adamant, likes to relax | Pound, Echoed Voice, Astonish, Howl | found Rusturf Tunnel

Poison Ivy the Tentacool | level 5 | male | Liquid Ooze | Sassy, capable of taking hits | Poison Sting, Supersonic | found Dewford Town

Euphorbia the Makuhita | level 12 | male | Thick Fat | Hardy, capable of taking hits | Focus Energy, Sand Attack, Arm Thrust, Fake Out | found Granite Cave

Lithops the Numel | level 14 | female | Simple | Quiet, likes to run | Tackle, Ember, Focus Energy, Magnitude | found route 112

Rauvolfia the Seviper | level 19 | male | Shed Skin | Careful, impetuous and silly | Poison Tail, Screech, Venoshock, Glare | found route 114

Moraea the Spoink | level 23 | female | Own Tempo |  Quirky, quick tempered | Psybeam, Psych Up, Confuse Ray, Magic Coat | found Jagged Pass

Agapanthus the Pelipper | level 33 | male | Keen Eye | Modest, a little quick-tempered | Water Pulse, Wing Attack, Steel Wing, Quick Attack | found route 104

Rosemary the Latias | level 30 | female | Levitate | Sassy, somewhat vain | Heal Pulse, Dragon Breath, Mist Ball, Psycho Shift | found Southern Island

Milkweed the Beautifly | level 26 | female | Swarm | Lax, somewhat stubborn | Air Cutter, Mega Drain, Silver Wind, Morning Sun | found route 102

Hydrangea the Kecleon | level 25 | male | Color Change | Lonely, often lost in thought | Feint Attack, Psybeam, Ancient Power, Slash | found route 119

Sunflower the Castform | level 30 | female | Forecast | Lax, mischievous Rain Dance, Sunny Day, Hail, Weather Ball | found Weather Institute

Banana the Tropius | level 27 | male | Solar Power | Brave, a little quick tempered | Stomp, Magical Leaf, Whirlwind, Leaf Tornado | found route 120

Uniflora the Shuppet | level 28 | female | Insomnia | Mild, alert to sounds | Will-O-Wisp, Feint Attack, Hex, Curse | found route 121

Monotropa the Duskull | level 28 | female | Levitate | Naughty, loves to eat | Foresight, Shadow Sneak, Pursuit, Will-O-Wisp | found Mt Pyre

Tacca the Golbat | level 33 | female | Inner Focus | Hardy, strong-willed | Air Cutter, Switft, Poison Fang, Mean Look | found Seafloor Cavern

Ebony the Sableye | level 35 | male | Keen Eye | Calm, highly curious | Knock Off, Shadow Claw, Confuse Ray, Zen Headbutt | found Cave of Origin

Wakame the Kyogre | level 45 | no thank you | Drizzle | Sassy, mischievous | Body Slam, Aqua Ring, Ice Beam, Origin Pulse | found Cave of Origin

Vallisneria the Tynamo | level 37 | female | Levitate | Mild, highly curious | Tackle, Thunder Wave, Spark, Charge Beam | found Mirage Cave

Buddleja the Alolomola | level 30 | male | Healer | Quirky, mischievous | Heal Pulse, Protect, Water Pulse, Wake-Up Slap | found route 127

Leek the Loudred  | level 37 | female | Soundproof | Sassy, hates to lose | Stomp, Uproar, Roar, Rest | found Victory Road

Plumeria the Spiritomb | level 50 | female | Pressure | Hasty, likes to fight | Sucker Punch, Nasty Plot, Memento, Dark Pulse | found Sea Mauville

Dead

Catnip the Skitty, found route 116, killed by Lass Janice’s Marill in route 116

Daisy the Pikachu, found Slateport City, killed by Archie’s Sharpedo at Mount Chimney

[chokingonyouralibi]

Yearly check in

So it’s 3:55pm on the 13th October 2017 and I’ve found my way to tumblr once again for another little life update. Just reread my last diary post and it’s incredible how much can change in a year and a half, in fact it’s actually kind of scary. 

Guess I’ll start with uni, I have no idea how but I managed to be the jammiest person alive and graduate with an average 69.5% that was rounded up to a 1st! That’s right ladies and gents, this slacker is the proud owner of a First Class Honours degree in Mathematics!!! Three exclamation marks are definitely necessary considering I went out the most I have ever done this year and attended around 40% of lectures. In truth it all came down to the last few weeks before exams when I crammed like a crazy person, don’t think my Dad has ever been more shocked or happy - he literally leaped around like a little kid.

Onto the most glaringly obvious change in my life - the absence of Jake. As of now we have been broken up for nearly 8 months and I cannot believe how quickly that time has gone by. It was originally an amicable split, we’ve both grown up quite a bit these last few years and essentially we grew into totally different people and luckily we both realised that. The issues came with the months that followed - I don’t think either of us fully imagined how difficult it would be to live in a tiny 2 bed flat (albeit in a block with all our friends) and successfully move on. Here it is in black and white - I was a selfish idiot. I didn’t afford Jake enough respect when I was going out and ‘moving on’ but that was just my way of coping. Our friendship became slightly forced and awkward but the final nail in the coffin shall herefore only be known as the worst decision ever made in my life. It’s hard to get closure when the other person doesn’t really want anything to do with you. I’ve lost a lot of friends from the football but in the words of my wise little bro “if they were really your friends they wouldn’t have acted like they did.” Onwards and upwards I guess.

In other news I have just returned from the most amazing summer of my life - a week in Bali with the spice bbz and then 4 weeks travelling around New Zealand by myself! Forget the amazing scenery, the skydive and the incredible friends I made (Em, Flo, Vez, Kaila, Maya, Laura etc) - I just feel like such a bigger and better person for having gone and done something like that by myself. I had no idea what was awaiting me and I went and did it anyway. One more step down the road of pushing myself out of my comfort zone and into new adventures and opportunities! Now living in Birmingham with my new flatmate Alice (who is a dream) and gearing up to start my swanky new grad job with KPMG woop woop. I am just ready and raring to go. Got a little gang of pals through Alice and also a budding romance with a lovely new boy/man/person called Joe. I literally have butterflies just thinking about him - early days but I am very very hopeful.

Can’t complete this life update without a word on the fam, Nick has just begun his first year at Oxford (braniac say what) and we are closer than ever, literally love him to pieces. Mum is getting steadily worse, her MS is starting to become more noticeable as she tires very quickly now and walks with a slight limp. Things are looking up though as she has just secured early retirement on medical grounds which will hopefully remove a lot of stress for her. Dad is doing good, working part time if that and helping round the house - he now has 3 signature meals he can cook!

All in all a bit of a whirlwind year and a half. Life has flown by and there have been some pretty shitty times, times I’ve felt like the worst person on the planet and I wouldn’t have made it through that without my rugby gals or house gals. However I’d say that things are steadily on their way up, I’m actually quite happy right now and I’m excited about life and all the unknowns around the corner. Here’s to the next chapter of my life!

As always, in the words of Francois Rabelais: “I go to seek a great perhaps.”

[umichenginabroad]

I’m Sorry, but I Can’t Leave Portugal Yet

Well, it’s official - this year’s European Innovation Academy, Portugal, has come to a close. I’m sitting here on the couch typing this blog post, and I can’t begin to even put into words how it feels to know that I may never again see many of the incredible friends I have made on this trip. I am hopeful, however, that we will stay in contact - after all, what else is the internet good for? It’ll be strange to adjust back to work and school, but I’m sure even years from now I will look back at these amazing memories and smile.

The last few days of the event passed in a blur, and ended in a truly spectacular manner on Friday with the Grand Pitch followed by the awards ceremony. My team, Aegis Systems, had the honor of being one of the five finalists for the Quinones Team Spark Award from Nixon Peabody. While we didn’t end up winning the award, being recognized at the award ceremony as a finalist was still a wonderful experience. 

To my teammates and my mentors, thank you for all of the help and patience you’ve exhibited in these past three weeks. Things got tense, plans fell through, tempers flared, but that’s to be expected when you spend 10+ hours each day working together. It’s the way that we never faltered in pursuing our goal, never gave up, never quit, and always forgave each other that leaves me with a sense of pride in our accomplishments. I have no regrets at all, and I would not choose anyone else to have shared this start-up experience with. I love you all so so much.

A few pictures with my amazing Design Mentor, Zara, my team member Sara, and my wonderful IP mentor, On.

A few friends and I after the awards ceremony. Pictured: Calvin, Oskar, Emily, myself, and Darel.

The last weekend was a whirlwind of activity, with goodbyes and adventures still to be had. On Saturday, a few of the University of Michigan students and I traveled to Evora, Portugal to wander and take in some of their famous sites (mentioned in literature like Percy Jackson, Dan Brown books, and even the 39 Clues, if I’m not mistaken). We visited the Temple of Diana, the Chapel of Bones, museums, Roman era aqueducts, and so much more.

Pictures of the beautiful sights in Evora, Portugal.

On Sunday, we roamed through Lisbon, bought pineapple pina coladas, flower shaped ice cream, and souvenirs to remember our time here. Then we traveled to Belém to eat lunch and visit the famed Banksy exhibit, which boasted many Banksy originals. We also visited the monument to Columbus, and even the Christ the King statue (from a distance)! Finally, we traveled back to Lisbon to eat dinner and walk around one last time with a couple of our phenomenal and cool and amazing friends from the program. It was an emotional and raw night, without a doubt.

A few famous Belém monuments, alongside the entrance to the Banksy exhibit.

A final dinner, with friends I will never forget.

I’ll leave you all with some takeaways and tips that I wish I had known before I left for the program. Take what you will from them, but I hope they are helpful. To those enrolling in this program next year, good luck and don’t forget to enjoy yourself.

1. Choose a team based on the people. Your idea WILL change, you will pivot so many times that your final idea may have absolutely nothing even remotely resembling your original idea. The people on your team won’t change - the smallest things that you notice on that first day? The littlest things at annoy you? After three weeks of 10 hour days, you will hate those little things with a burning passion. But also know that everyone has quirks, and no matter who your team is, you will argue, and disagree, and fight, but the hallmark of a truly great team is one that always makes up and never puts each other down.

2. If your team does have conflict (and it will), trust me and talk it out right away. Don’t leave your problems to fester, and if need be, they have life coaches for a reason. It will be uncomfortable to the extreme, and every fiber of your being may wish not to bring your conflicts out in the open, but it will make your team stronger (and you happier) if you do it. Tears may be shed, voices may be raised, but the outcome is worth it.

3. Be willing to bend and to compromise. Know that your teammates are intelligent and will approach problems differently than you do. Don’t discount anyone’s ideas and just keep an open mind.

4. Try to be outgoing and to meet lots of new people. It can be really daunting, but the friendships you forge are, in my opinion, worth it a million times over.

5. Don’t discount your own skills. Be confident in yourself and what you can accomplish, but also don’t ignore your weaknesses. An amazing mentor once mentioned that the people around us are our mirrors - look to them and you might just see parts of yourself, good and bad, that you didn’t see before.

6. Cherish your friends while you can. You may never see many of these people again, so make the most of your time with them. Of course, don’t lose touch afterwards! Friendships will endure if they are truly strong, and I believe many of yours will be, as mine became, are.

A few more housekeeping things:

1. Bring at least two electrical adapters. Don’t forget! Europe does not use the same plugs as the US, and you will need to charge many things.

2. Water is a precious commodity in Portugal, and drinking fountains are a rarity. At the supermarket (I would recommend any Pingo Dolce), buy water in bulk (a one or two gallon bottle). It is cheaper by far and you will need it to fill your water bottles for the weekends and at night. However, do know that at least this year, the Congress Center did have a drinking fountain.

3. Water costs money at restaurants, and quite a bit at that. Don’t go into any restaurant and expect to get water for free when you ask for “water”. Ask for tap water specifically, or bring your own water. However, there is also nothing wrong with just buying water from restaurants either!

4. Go out on the weekends to see the sights! I would recommend a day trip to Lagos, and a weekend for Porto. Cascais, Lisbon, and Belém are beautiful. And Sintra is a stunning place, and my #1 recommendation. At least two full days can be spent there to see all the sights.

5. Good luck and have fun! If you have questions, don’t hesitate to reach out to me :)

Onwards and upwards! But of course, I will never forget this experience or the amazing friends that I have made.

Kevin Wang

Computer Engineering

European Innovation Academy in Cascais, Portugal

[directionless-writing]

Three months ago, I didn’t see a future for me. And now I see the new beginnings everywhere.

[space--cadet-glow]

Theory: The Irony of Vaati, Part Three: Temperaments

There is the thing that is the typical "Four Temperament Ensemble", where a group of four characters seemingly fit into one of four personality "groups". There are four characters in "The Minish Cap": Link, Zelda, Ezlo, and Vaati. So- which of the Four Temperaments match to which character?

Technically speaking, any Temperament can fit to anybody, but to get the Ensemble part to work, there will have to be one Temperament to each character. For Phlegmatic characteristics, we can find unemotional, calm, humble, sympathetic, and too yielding. For Sanguine, we can find extroverted, loves people, talkative/friendly, forgiving, and hyperactive. For Choleric, we can find practical, takes the lead, determined, goal-oriented, and hot-tempered. And for Melancholic, we can find detail-oriented, analytical, perfectionistic, organised, and pessimistic.

So, let's start with Link. PHLEGMATIC: Unemotional? Well, since he never talks, there's not much we can go on; but, he IS emotional enough to want to save Zelda. Calm? Pretty much- and Ezlo even wonders why he (Link) wasn't scared after the minecart in the Cave of Flames took off at lightning speeds. Humble? Chivalry goes hand-in-hand with knights, which he clearly isn't because he's a child- but he doesn't seem to brag about his accomplishments, either. Sympathetic? Even after Ezlo reveals the truth to him, he doesn't chuck him off. And his goal is to save Zelda. And he saved Ezlo in the first place. Too yielding? (As in, basically being treated like a doormat). Well, it WAS his grandfather's idea to send off to go find the Minish- he didn't really say yes or no visibly/audibly. But he seems like he WANTS to help, so I don't think he's too yielding. For PHLEGMATIC: 3 out of 5.

SANGUINE: Extroverted? Again, to use the minecart scene, he really seemed to enjoy the rush; but he was pretty quiet during the Picori Festival, though... Loves people? Enough to want to save Zelda and Ezlo (and later, King Daltus and the other people that got turned to stone)! Talkative/friendly? Not a peep from him. But he IS friends with Zelda. Forgiving? Well, he didn't KILL Vaati, he merely sealed him in the Four Sword. Hyperactive? Well, we'll have to take Ezlo's word for it, because he DOES call him "hyperactive" at one point, but "as a compliment".

For SANGUINE: 2 (or 3 at most) out of 5.

CHOLERIC: Practical? Well, he takes immediately to the new items he finds in each of the dungeons and uses them to strategically defeat each of the Bosses. Takes the lead? Other than being the main character, no. Determined? That's the whole point of wanting to rescue Zelda! Goal-oriented? He has a clear goal in mind, but CAN fail in an odd scenario (a Non-Standard Game Over). Hot-tempered? Not a bit. For CHOLERIC: 2 out of 5.

And MELANCHOLIC: Detail-oriented? Unless he was obsessed with his rescue goal, then no. Analytical? Could relate to his strategy of using the dungeon items against the Bosses. Perfectionistic? No hints towards this at all. In fact, quite the opposite, since Ezlo describes Link's hair as a "real rat's nest". Organised? Maybe- if you take the Start Menu to be the inside of whatever he keeps his weapons in, then it's very neat in there. Pessimistic? Nope. For MELANCHOLIC: 2 out of 5.

So, for Link, we can determine that in the complete Four Temperament Ensemble, then he is either PHLEGMATIC or SANGUINE.

Next, Princess Zelda. PHLEGMATIC: Unemotional? She's quite happy and bubbly, to be honest. Calm? As a stone statue, but I don't think that counts. Humble? She doesn't seem to use her status as a Princess to her advantage- this is seen during the Picori Festival, where she is content with a dinky little shield as her prize, and actually ends up giving it to Link. Sympathetic? Well, she is Rem the Shoemaker's number one customer, possibly because she feels sorry that his shoe sales aren't that great??? But that's a bit of a stretch. Too yielding? Again, her being a stone statue doesn't count. For PHLEGMATIC: 1 out of 5.

SANGUINE: Extroverted? Very- her defining character trait seems to be her childish happiness. Loves people? She talks to almost every person at the Picori Festival. Talkative/friendly? Same with "loves people". She does nothing but talking during the Festival scene. Forgiving? A bit of a stretch, but she didn't protest Vaati merely being sealed instead of killed. Hyperactive? Very. She sometimes even gets distracted mid-sentence. For SANGUINE: 4 out of 5.

CHOLERIC: Practical? She (quite possibly) methodically chooses the small shield for Link to use instead of getting something for herself. Takes the lead? She spends the entire game as a statue. Determined? Determined to give the shield to Link, if that counts. Goal-oriented? Stone statue. Hot-tempered? No. For CHOLERIC: 1 (or 2 at most) out of 5.

And MELANCHOLIC: Detail-oriented? Does her being easily distracted go completely against this? Analytical? She DOES listen intently to everybody's stories at the Festival... Perfectionistic? Nope. Organised? Unknown. Pessimisstic? Nope. For MELANCHOLIC: 1 out of 5.

So, for Princess Zelda, we can determine that in the complete Four Temperament Ensemble, that she is almost guaranteed to be SANGUINE.

And then, Ezlo. PHLEGMATIC: Unemotional? No. He even blames himself for Vaati's rise to power. Calm? Squawking does not compute. Humble? He calls himself a well-known Sage in the Minish Realm- so he thinks a bit highly of himself. Sympathetic? He doesn't seem to forgive Vaati- but at the same time, he genuinely wants to help Link. Too yielding? The complete opposite; almost being a bit more like a boss to Link. For PHLEGMATIC: 0 (1 at most) out of 5.

SANGUINE: Extroverted? Very- he even gets to the point of talking about cows at one point. Loves people? Seemingly- he accompanies Link, and gets along well with Zelda (eventually). This is probably the reason he took Vaati in in the first place. Talkative/friendly? If PCULL44444's "Minish Cap" catchphrase is any indication, "SHUT UP, ELMO!". Forgiving? He had no problems with Vaati being sealed. Hyperactive? He falls asleep often, so no. For SANGUINE: 2 (or 3 at most) out of 5.

CHOLERIC: Practical? It was Ezlo's idea for Link to use him as a parachute in the whirlwinds. Takes the lead? Against Link? Yes. Determined? To stop Vaati and help Link? Yes. Goal-oriented? Yes. Hot-tempered? Very few of his sentences do not involve sarcasm.

For CHOLERIC: 5 out of 5.

And MELANCHOLIC: Detail-oriented? More like, goal-oriented. Analytical? His Sage wisdom could count. Perfectionistic? Not really. Organised? He has a pretty neat desk in his home in the Minish Realm. Pessimisstic? The complete opposite. For MELANCHOLIC: 2 out of 5.

So, for Ezlo, we can determine that in the complete Four Temperament Ensemble, he is basically confirmed for CHOLERIC.

And finally, Vaati. PHLEGMATIC: Unemotional? Can seem like this at times. Calm? He literally says that he can take his time looking for the Light Force and that he's in no hurry. Humble? HE CALLS HIMSELF THE "GREATEST SORCERER ALIVE"- I DON'T THINK SO. Sympathetic? Yes and no- No, because he straight-up turns Ezlo into a hat- but yes, because he could have easily killed him instead. Too yielding? As a young Minish, he could have been pushed around by Ezlo's lessons- but definitely not in his Hylian form and onward. For PHLEGMATIC: 2 (or 3 at most) out of 5.

SANGUINE: Extroverted? He doesn't talk very much- and when he does, it's usually threats or put-downs. Loves people? On the contrary- he spends most of the game completely alone. Talkative/friendly? While disguised as King Daltus; but that's just so that he could yell at the soldiers to go find the Light Force. Forgiving? He's the one who caused the game to happen in the first place, there's nobody he can be forgiving to! Hyperactive? He is quite composed. For SANGUINE: 0 (or 1 at most) out of 5.

CHOLERIC: Practical? He completely remodeled Hyrule Castle just to confuse Link and Ezlo. And he even set up a bell to go off when he drained Zelda of the Light Force. Takes the lead? He's the only villain of the game- there's no lead to take from anyone. Determined? To get his hands on the Light Force? Check! To attempt to kill Link when he as infuriated him enough? Check! Goal-oriented? Sort of- but he's primarily after an object. Hot-tempered? Not until his final demon form, Wrath. For CHOLERIC: 2 (or 3 at most) out of 5.

And finally, MELANCHOLIC: Detail-oriented? He desires one thing and one thing only- the Light Force. Analytical? It is heavily implied that he extensively studied history (and magics) just to learn about what he wanted. Perfectionistic? Honestly, his goal all along could have been for perfection, if he saw himself as a "meek, miniscule nothing" as a Minish- oh wait- he DID.

Organised? He had a long, drawn-out plan to get the Light Force by ENTERING THE SWORD-FIGHTING TOURNAMENT. He could teleport- why didn't he just teleport into the courtyard once the soldiers brought out the Bound Chest? Pessimisstic? Not for others, but for himself and his past. And his failure once he's defeated. For MELANCHOLIC: 5 out of 5.

And finally, for Vaati, we can determine that in the complete Four Temperament Ensemble, he is basically confirmed for MELANCHOLIC.

Ironically, Link was the only one who fit more than one Temperament. But, judging from the others, here is the complete Four Temperament Ensemble: Link: Phlegmatic Princess Zelda: Sanguine Ezlo: Choleric And Vaati: Melancholic.

Perhaps this will come back to haunt Vaati later...

[eirianerisdar]

The Duelist and the Dancer

Summary: Drabble. Qui-Gon Jinn’s apprenticeship days to Dooku are anything but easy. In the small hours of the night after a failed Makashi training session, a young Qui-Gon ruminates on his urge to fly.

Characters: Qui-Gon Jinn, Dooku, Yoda

Rating: K+ (it’s always K+. When is it ever higher?)

Chapters: 1/1 (complete)

Qui-Gon’s wrists ache as he palms the turbolift controls.

The lights of the Temple are dimmed in the late hour, and there is a mediative hush over the spotless corridors. In this place of incongruous privacy, Qui-Gon allows himself to slump, just a little; Out of the rigid, steel-armed image of an aspiring duelist into that of an exhausted fifteen-year old apprentice, draped in soaked, ‘saber-scorched tunics.

He watches a drop of sweat slide off the end of his grime-encrusted braid, falling timelessly towards the duracrete floor.

It would seem that his mind is perilously close to shutting down.

This cannot continue.

The turbolift plunges down the side of the Temple in a soundless rush of air; Qui-Gon leans is forehead against the transparisteel wall, staring at the city-planet’s regimented lights as though Coruscant could break through the thin barrier and snatch him into flight.

It would certainly be better than facing his master again, at any rate.

Makashi is the way of the Ysalamiri; a species untouchable with the Force, tenacious and cunning, sly and elegant. It suits Qui-Gon’s master well.

But it does not suit Qui-Gon.

Master Dooku, however, cares not what suits his padawan.

And so, apart from the growing pains that stretch his already gangly frame, Qui-Gon often retires to his sleep-couch at night with wrists in such agony that at times he wonders if it might be truly debilitating.

Qui-Gon knows his master’s hands as well as his own. Those hands braided his padawan braid with emotionless expediency two years ago, upon the formation of his apprenticeship; those hands have bound Qui-Gon’s wounds with brusque efficiency, on occasions that required it. They move chess pieces with the sharp carelessness of nobility, grasp the curved hilt of a lightsaber with ruthless elegance.

It is useless. No matter how many long hours Qui-Gon devotes to Makashi, he will never possess the sharpness of movement and the strength of wrist to turn his lightsaber into an infinite-edged rapier. His own hands are ink-stained, tea-stained (blood-stained at times, on missions gone horribly wrong) but they will never grasp a lightsaber with the cold, precise power of a Jedi Sentinel.

The turbolift doors slide open soundlessly to reveal the harsh white lights of the healers’ wing. Dooku is not so harsh as to deny his apprentice medical care after a particularly gruelling practice session.

Qui-Gon’s head is bowed so low that he does not see the new, diminutive apparition until a gimer stick slaps sharply across his path.

He raises his head with difficulty. “Master Yoda,” he says. There is no inflection in his voice whatsoever. It might have been seen as insolent, if other masters were here.  It does not matter; Qui-Gon does not care.

The Grand Master of the Order squints up at him and chortles, once; It sounds as though he is choking on something.

“Go back inside that turbolift, you must.”

Qui-Gon does not move.

"Angry you are, young one,” Yoda says mildly.

Qui-Gon does not deny it. He stares at the floor and tries not to let the working of his jaw become visible.

Globus green eyes stare keenly up at him. Two minutes pass, wordlessly; the tall young padawan braced against the turbolift door, gaze boring into the floor, and the tiny wrinkled master, with his stick the only barrier preventing the padawan’s escape.

The turbolift bleeps an alarm, irritably.

Qui-Gon takes a measured breath and shoves himself off the door, almost stumbling back into the transparisteel cube of the turbolift. Yoda shuffles forward genially, gimer stick clacking against the floor in a syncopated counterpoint to the turbolift’s warning.

The door slides closed with a hiss of oiled hydraulics. The alarm ceases, though it leaves an impertinent little headache behind in its wake. Qui-Gon closes in eyes against the urge to growl.

Pointedly not looking at his companion, Yoda raises his stick and jabs a floor number. Qui-Gon does not bother to look. Master Yoda has his ways; they will go where they need to go, and nowhere else.

The white-edged lights of the Temple walls flash past as the turbolift rises towards the smoke-filled skies, alternately painting Qui-Gon’s hands on the railing ghastly white and bruised shadow.

“Find their padawans hard to handle, Masters often do,” Yoda harrumphs. “And often, also did I.”

The words shiver in Qui-Gon’s ears for a moment before they register.  He forces his eyes to focus.  “But my master was your padawan.”

“My padawan he was, yes.” Yoda sighs, folding his hands atop the gnarled top of his stick.

Qui-Gon chooses not to comment on that loaded statement.

This time of night, the sparring arenas are dim and silent. Yoda sedately leads the way to a high-roofed salle-

-and explodes into a miniature whirlwind of motion.

Qui-Gon barely activates his lightsaber in time to sloppily block the first blow.  Yoda’s dazzling green blade whips and flicks and stabs and lances at him from all sides, more often than not forcing him into the air.  He finds himself completing acrobatics not practiced since his early days of lightsaber training, hurling his awkward, already-exhausted frame into air too thin and too hot for breath. And all along, Qui-Gon knows the grandmaster must be holding back-

Yoda cackles delightfully, and suddenly the air is set ablaze with emerald fire.

Qui-Gon can barely keep up now, his own harlequin blade juddering with the speed of every contact, bleeding plasma into the air, coating his tongue with the taste of burning steel. But there - the Force is burning through him, too.

He grits his teeth. He will not be bested.

But he is.

He is bested so quickly that he does not even see the blow; there is only an immense force against his guard as he reverses out of flip, disarming and unbalancing him as he tries to bleed momentum by kicking off the wall.

Qui-Gon braces himself for the impact with the dojo floor, three paces below. It will not be pleasant.

The Force surges around him, and suddenly he is weightless, buoyed by a turgid swell of light. His lightsaber clatters somewhere to his left as he is lowered gently onto the hardwood floor, braced on hands and knees. With an effort, Qui-Gon raises his head.

Gnarled green feet halt before him.

“Enough, have you had?” Yoda says, mildly.

“Yes, Master Yoda.”

“In pain, were you?”

Whatever words Qui-Gon had been about to say fade away at the barrier to his lips.

Yoda harrumphs. “In pain, were you?”

“No,” Qui-Gon says, wonderingly. “I felt none.”  The agony of a full session of Makashi, which had caused him to barely be able to stumble into a turbolift - washed away the moment he took to the air.  The Force had poured so much fierce joy into him that he pain had seemed trivial.

Now, having returned to reality, the ache returns to his bones in a sudden hammer-blow. Qui-Gon presses his forehead to his hands in an effort not to groan.

A small, blunt-clawed hand rests on top of his sweat-matted hair, and brushes it back from his forehead.

“Rest here, you may,” Yoda says quietly. “Called the healers, I have. And when well you are, teach you again, I will.”

“Yes, master,” Qui-Gon mumbles, before he tumbles into the waiting folds of emptiness.

His training continues. He is a padawan.

On his thirty-eighth repetition of the Level 3 Makashi velocity, Qui-Gon’s sword arm spasms, and only quick reflexes prevent him from dropping his lightsaber. He corrects the awkward grip the shift has caused and settles into position, curving his wrist away and downwards even though this makes his wrist burn with needles of flame.

A larger hand closes over his wrist.

“Enough,” Dooku says, his voice smooth, cultured and utterly final.

Qui-Gon does not hang his head. He is beyond those days, now. He stares at his master, gritting his teeth against the sting of yet another sprained wrist, and waits for his punishment.

Dooku’s fingers probe Qui-Gon’s wrist for a moment before letting it drop.

When the sentinel speaks, it is without any inflection at all. “I believe that will serve. You may go to the healers.” Pivoting on one boot-heel, Dooku turns to go.

Qui-Gon holds his wrist, bewildered. Where are those fifteen laps around the dojo? The one-handed pushups? The non-dominant hand ‘saber exercises? “Master?” he queries.

Dooku pauses. He does not turn around. “We have no further sessions today. Go to the healers. Master Yoda will await you here two hours before the evening bell, as he will every first, third, and fifth day of the week from now onwards. I would suggest you fully heal your wrist before meeting him.”

“But Master-”

Dooku’s cloak disappears around the corner.

Qui-Gon sits carefully and ponders this new development.

He cranes his head back and looks at the ceiling, ten paces overhead. What would feel like to be able to leap for it, and not only touch it, but fly with it?

Ataru.

Master Yoda’s specialty.

There, in the deserted dojo, cradling his sprained wrist, Qui-Gon Jinn begins to smile.

It may be foolhardy, to the point of someday causing his death - but he no longer needs to be a duellist.

END

Remember the Qui-Gon Jinn fic I worked on two weeks ago? I was so busy in the interim I didn’t get to finish until now! I do love writing Dooku, though - I think that before he became a Sith, he truly did care for Qui-Gon in his own way. It didn’t stop him from doing what he thought was necessary to train an apprentice, though.

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