#ilse call

[mrspasser]

Sweeping the room

Call of Duty fanfic Read it on A03

It all started relatively innocently. They pull pranks on each other all the time and retaliation is part of the deal. So when Soap taped Kyle’s niftily constructed shack (not a Jack Shack - he’d been pulling night shifts that whole week and when sleeping in a bunk room with ten other soldiers you had to get creative to get some sleep) completely shut last month, forcing Kyle to cut himself out with a knife and ruining a perfectly good sheet, he knew he’d find a way to get back at the guy. He hadn’t gotten a chance while they were shipped out, but now they were back at their own base he had every means at his disposal. 

So that’s why he’s leading a small unit of soldiers down the hall towards Soap’s room, all armed with the contents of the broom closet around the corner. Kyle commandeered an old fashioned wooden broomstick for himself, letting the cadets divide up the flimsier plastic ones. One cadet ended up with a mop.

It’s perhaps a bit unfair that Kyle enlisted the help of his training unit for this prank, but again: all is fair in love and war. And he loves to pull pranks on his friend. He’s also fairly certain Soap won’t hold it against the guys too much; at worst he’ll make their practice drills a little harder, or something. The cadets that signed up for this little job are all aware of that risk and willing to take it.

It’s about an hour before lights out and most people at the base are either hanging out in the common rooms or chilling in their own bunks. The 141 task force has the luxury of private rooms; they’re about the size of a shoebox, but it certainly beats having to listen to your bunkmate’s snores. Soap’s room is squat in the middle of the hallway, one of few closed doors at this hour. Kyle knows his friend is in his room, he’d texted him before to ask him what he was doing and the answer was ‘watching a movie’.

He directs his small unit towards Soap’s door in near silence, using hand signals and whispered commands to get them in the right position. The cadets are playing along nicely, holding their broom sticks as if they’re real rifles and sticking to the walls for cover. Kyle considers pulling his phone out for a moment, to film the whole thing, but he’s been with the 141 long enough to be wary of possible security breaches. He’ll just engrain the whole - hopefully hilarious - event to memory. If anything, it’ll make for a funny story the next time they’re going out for a drink.

The broomstick armed unit plays their role perfectly, directing curious soldiers that they encounter along the hall back into their rooms with harsh whispers and pointed broomsticks. There’s some laughs and token protests, though everyone falls in line pretty quickly. As they reach Soap’s door, the soldiers line up according to regulation. One to open the door and provide cover, two cadets on each side, ready to breach and Kyle and the other two remaining cadets for additional cover and assistance. 

The cadets look back to their sergeant for the signal and Kyle counts down from three on his fingers. On his ‘go’ signal the first soldier opens the door with a shout and he points his broomstick at the entrance. The room is quite dark, Soap must not have turned on the overhead light for his little movie night. He might even be asleep already. 

The two other soldiers move in, mop and broom at the ready. Despite their awkward ‘weapons’, they move fluently and had this been an official training exercise, Kyle could’ve ticked off some boxes with a positive result. 

At that point, multiple things happen at once. There’s shouting from within the room, mostly from the soldiers that just breached the door. There’s a scuffle, presumably from the soldiers surprising a prone Soap on his bed. And out in the hallway, Kyle has to order a couple of privates to put away their phones, because their little stunt has gathered an audience by now. 

The noises from inside the room turn worrying, because there’s more than one pained grunt audible. Kyle hurries to the door, bumping into one of the cadets that suddenly steps back from the doorway with an audible ‘Oh shit’. Before Kyle can ask why the man is backing away, the answer presents itself when he gets an unobstructed view of the room.

Oh shit, indeed.

“Gaz! Ye radge wee shite! Is this your doing?!” At the back of the room, only his bottom half illuminated by the light coming in from the hall, is Soap standing, dressed in gym shorts, socks and a hoodie, his handgun pointed straight at Kyle. 

Being held at gunpoint by his fellow sergeant isn’t what worries him, though. No, he’s more scared of the sight on the floor between him and Soap. 

Because to one side, half underneath the small desk that takes up valuable floor space, is one of the cadets that breached the door. The poor guy is looking out of it, the stick of his mop weapon broken clean in two and strewn over his prone form. There’s a thin trail of blood running down his forehead that might explain his dazed look and the broken mop handle. However, he might be the lucky one, because the other cadet is getting strangled with his own broomstick by none other than their resident fright, Ghost.

Ghost, who has the neckline of his T-shirt pulled up over his nose, because apparently they caught him without his mask. A rare occurrence.

Ghost, who effectively pins the poor cadet to the floor with one knee placed right besides his groin and two large hands holding down the broomstick over his throat. 

The room is silent for a beat, just the sounds of the cadet struggling for breath to be heard.

Then Soap steps forward, putting his weapon away in the waistband of his shorts and placing a hand on Ghost’s shoulder. “Stand down, Lt,” he urges in a quiet voice.

The effect is instantaneous: Ghost lets go of the broomstick and surges to his full height, impressive as it is. The lieutenant holds one hand up to his face, fixing his makeshift mask into place. It doesn’t diminish his menacing stare. 

Yeah, Kyle is man enough to admit he fucked up on this one.  He lowers his broom and straightens his back. “I’m sorry, sir.”

The room is silent.

“I didn’t know you were back already,” he adds, resisting the urge to drag his hand across his face and draw in on himself. He’s a battle hardened soldier, for fuck’s sake.

“Aye, and where is my apology?” Soap stands half behind their lieutenant, the room not big enough for the two men to stand next to each other. Still, he crosses his arms across his chest and puts on an impressive glare. “Why does he get a nice ‘sorry, sir’ and I don’t?” 

“Because you’re not my superior officer,” Kyle shoots back. And because you have just your standard bag of army induced issues, he thinks, nothing like the flaming bag of dog shit the other man carries with him. He doesn’t have the security clearance nor the kind of trust he needs to know all about Ghost’s horrid past, no matter how much they trust each other with their lives on and off the battlefield. Kyle doubts there are people besides Ghost himself who know the full story. Price might come close. Soap probably too. All Kyle knows is not to touch it with a ten foot pole. And now he went and hit it with a broomstick. Yeah. He’s fucked.

“And because you couldn’t stop fucking about with my sleeping arrangements,” he adds.

Soap grins widely, the anger disappearing completely. “Your Jack Shack!” 

“It was not a Jack Shack! No matter how many signs you made to call it that.” At some point Soap had even unearthed Christmas decorations from somewhere to decorate Kyle’s bunk with. It was just a shame he used the tinsel to spell out Jack Shack in large letters across the sheet that hid the bunk away from daylight. With their shifts at the Mexican base alternating off each other, Soap had had ample time to mess with his friend’s sleeping quarters, until Price finally ordered him to knock it off.

“Ah, sirs?” One of the cadets on the floor finally found the courage to speak up. With the way Ghost is still glaring, the poor man might even deserve some chest candy for his bravery. The trickle of blood on his forehead is dried up, smeared across his eyebrow. 

Ghost levels the man with one look. “You’re dismissed, Pradhan,” he says in a low, icy tone. “Take private Wen with you and get yourself checked out by medical.”

The poor cadet quickly nods with a ‘sir, yessir’ and scrambles to help his colleague off the floor.  

So much for the soldiers hoping Ghost didn’t recognise them. 

Kyle might have to apologize to them later, for leading them on a mission with faulty intel. It’s one thing to help prank your jovial, Scottish superior; pranking the Ghost is a whole other ballgame, with much higher stakes. For now, all he can do is move away from the door so the cadets can enter the now suspiciously empty hallway, taking their misused cleaning supplies with them. 

He watches them disappear through the double doors at the end of the hallway, wondering what they will tell the nurse on duty. He’s sure they won’t be mentioning the name Ghost. But what will they tell? It’ll be interesting to sort out that paperwork. However, that’s for tomorrow-Kyle. Today-Kyle still has to face his superior officer.

“I’m sorry, Ghost,” he says again, turning back to the room. The man has dug up his balaclava from somewhere in the room and is once again covered up. The tousled blond locks from before are hidden from sight. “We were just trying to get the jump on MacTavish.”

“And look whatsit got ya, ye fuckin’ bampot,” Soap mutters from where he’s sat back on his bed shaking his head. He’s winding the cord of his headphones around his fingers, the white cord having come loose from the laptop that still lies on the floor. It’s laying on its back, the keyboard side sticking up in the air. On the screen the movie is paused on a scene with flashy cars. Kyle guesses it’s one of the The Fast & The Furious installments. The use of headphones might explain the reaction of the officers, if they didn’t hear their ‘assailants’ coming.

“When did you get back, sir?” Kyle tries to spark up some semblance of a conversation, anything to get past the awkwardness of this situation.

“This afternoon.” He takes the short answer he gets as a good sign. Surely if Ghost was truly mad, he wouldn’t even answer. From his bed, Soap follows the conversation, keeping his eyes trained on Ghost’s back. There’s a slight pinch to his look, a sign of worry perhaps.

Ghost had been off on a solo mission, having left at some point before Soap and Kyle came back from Mexico three days ago. He doesn’t know any details, just that the lieutenant was shipped out to somewhere in the Middle East. “Good mission?”

A short grunt from behind the mask, Ghost’s eyes staring at the wall behind Kyle. “Job’s done.” 

Kyle catches Soap’s gaze, who jerks his head minutely towards the hallway. He takes it as the sign it undoubtedly is to leave the two men alone. Something he should’ve done from the beginning. “Right. Well, I’ll leave you guys to your evening. Good night, sir,” he says to Ghost. “And once again: I’m sorry for what happened.”

Ghost predictably doesn’t react. From behind the big guy, Soap mouths ‘kiss ass’ at Kyle. Also predictable. 

Kyle leaves the room and closes the door behind him. He sets course to the on base med bay, meaning to check up on the two unfortunate cadets. On his way, he wrecks his brain for ways to make it up to Ghost. He might have to consult Price on that one, something he’s not very much looking forward to, especially not combined with tonight's paperwork. 

He’s not too worried about Soap, resigning himself to be on the lookout for another horrible prank coming his way sometime soon. It might do well to come up with some ideas to retaliate. Just to be prepared.

[reachingfortheday]

this meme brought to you by people just posting videos clearly taken from the first row during intermission at a broadway show??? whatever happened to NFT (the real meaning of it: not for trade) and shady back room tumblr deals to get shaky video from the balcony of your fave understudy

[alwayschasingrainbows]

Just imagine what the family conclave might have looked like from an outsider's pov if they knew the true meaning of the word "temperamental" Murrays were so fond of using. If you only change "temperamental" into "gay":

Aunt Elizabeth: Emily, you are so TEMPERAMENTAL. Your mother was TEMPERAMENTAL too, but you are way MORE TEMPERAMENTAL. I've never known a girl who would be as TEMPERAMENTAL as you. Ilse perhaps, but she should not be your role model.

Aunt Laura: Oh Emily dear, won't you try to act a little less... TEMPERAMENTAL? People will talk...

Cousin Jimmy: Let Emily be as TEMPERAMENTAL as she pleases. She is a free spirit. Show them all, puss. I think I feel TEMPERAMENTAL too, at times.

Cousin Andrew: Oh, Emily is the only TEMPERAMENTAL one in our family. I have some tendencies towards it too, but I try to fight the urge to be TEMPERAMENTAL every time.

Uncle Wallace: Good thing that MY daughter is not this TEMPERAMENTAL. Must be the Starrs' genes. I've heard that her father was very TEMPERAMENTAL too. But while it is fine, or even desirable for a man to be TEMPERAMENTAL, it is not proper for a young girl.

Uncle Oliver: I think it is fine for a girl to be a little bit TEMPERAMENTAL, it gives her some spice. But too much is too much. Emily is way too TEMPERAMENTAL for my liking.

DR. BURNLEY: No, TEMPERAMENTAL is fine by me. I'd love me some TEMPERAMENTAL woman, she'd keep life interesting.

PERRY: Agree about that...

(Dr. Burnley: glares).

AUNT ADDIE: She'd better marry him right away, before she changes her mind again. She is just too TEMPERAMENTAL for this. You can't really expect me to believe she would marry this boy.

AUNT EVE: Oh, there is nothing TEMPERAMENTAL about me, sadly. I am far too ill and delicate to let myself be TEMPERAMENTAL.

AUNT RUTH: Well, what were you expecting? She was always sly. And TEMPERAMENTAL, too.

ILSE (who knows what temperamental means): EMILY MY LOVE!!!!!!

TEDDY (who also knows): Wait, what???

(AUNT NANCY from afterlife: YOU GO GIRLIE!).

I’m looking up vintage terminology for gay people (for fanfic purposes) and this

reminded me of THIS

Andrew had picked up a word somewhere--he said Emily was "temperamental." Half the Murrays did not know just what it meant but they pounced on it eagerly. Emily was "temperamental"--just that. It explained everything--henceforth it clung to her like a burr. (Emily’s Quest)

Andrew Murray what do you know. What are you trying to say.

[reasonsforhope]

"The transformation of ancestral lands into intensive monoculture plantations has led to the destruction of Guatemala’s native forests and traditional practices, as well as loss of livelihoods and damage to local health and the environment.

A network of more than 40 Indigenous and local communities and farmer associations are developing agroecology schools across the country to promote the recovery of ancestral practices, educate communities on agroecology and teach them how to build their own local economies.

Based on the traditional “campesino a campesino” (from farmer to farmer) method, the organization says it has improved the livelihoods of 33,000 families who use only organic farming techniques and collectively protect 74,000 hectares (182,858 acres) of forest across Guatemala.

Every Friday at 7:30 a.m., María Isabel Aguilar sells her organic produce in an artisanal market in Totonicapán, a city located in the western highlands of Guatemala. Presented on a handwoven multicolor blanket, her broccoli, cabbage, potatoes and fruits are neatly organized into handmade baskets.

Aguilar is in a cohort of campesinos, or small-scale farmers, who took part in farmer-led agroecology schools in her community. As a way out of the cycle of hunger and poverty, she learned ecological principles of sowing, soil conservation, seed storage, propagation and other agroecological practices that have provided her with greater autonomy, self-sufficiency and improved health.

“We learned how to develop insecticides to fend off pests,” she said. The process, she explained, involves a purely organic cocktail of garlic, chile, horsetail and other weeds and leaves, depending on what type of insecticide is needed. “You want to put this all together and let it settle for several days before applying it, and then the pests won’t come.”

“We also learned how to prepare fertilizer that helps improve the health of our plants,” she added. “Using leaves from trees or medicinal plants we have in our gardens, we apply this to our crops and trees so they give us good fruit.”

The expansion of large-scale agriculture has transformed Guatemala’s ancestral lands into intensive monoculture plantations, leading to the destruction of forests and traditional practices. The use of harmful chemical fertilizers, including glyphosate, which is prohibited in many countries, has destroyed some livelihoods and resulted in serious health and environmental damage.

To combat these trends, organizations across the country have been building a practice called campesino a campesino (from farmer to farmer) to revive the ancient traditions of peasant families in Guatemala. Through the implementation of agroecology schools in communities, they have helped Indigenous and local communities tackle modern-day rural development issues by exchanging wisdom, experiences and resources with other farmers participating in the program.

Keeping ancestral traditions alive

The agroecology schools are organized by a network of more than 40 Indigenous and local communities and farmer associations operating under the Utz Che’ Community Forestry Association. Since 2006, they have spread across several departments, including Totonicapán, Quiché, Quetzaltenango, Sololá and Huehuetenango, representing about 200,000 people — 90% of them Indigenous.

“An important part of this process is the economic autonomy and productive capacity installed in the communities,” said Ilse De León Gramajo, project coordinator at Utz Che’. “How we generate this capacity and knowledge is through the schools and the exchange of experiences that are facilitated by the network.”

Utz Che’, which means “good tree” in the K’iche’ Mayan language, identifies communities in need of support and sends a representative to set up the schools. Around 30-35 people participate in each school, including women and men of all ages. The aim is to facilitate co-learning rather than invite an “expert” to lead the classes.

The purpose of these schools is to help farmers identify problems and opportunities, propose possible solutions and receive technical support that can later be shared with other farmers.

The participants decide what they want to learn. Together, they exchange knowledge and experiment with different solutions to thorny problems. If no one in the class knows how to deal with a certain issue, Utz Che’ will invite someone from another community to come in and teach...

Part of what Utz Che’ does is document ancestral practices to disseminate among schools. Over time, the group has compiled a list of basics that it considers to be fundamental to all the farming communities, most of which respond to the needs and requests that have surfaced in the schools.

Agroecology schools transform lives

Claudia Irene Calderón, based at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, is an expert in agroecology and sustainable food systems in Guatemala. She said she believes the co-creation of knowledge is “key to balance the decision-making power that corporations have, which focus on profit maximization and not on climate change mitigation and adaptation.”

“The recovery and, I would add, revalorization of ancestral practices is essential to diversify fields and diets and to enhance planetary health,” she said. “Recognizing the value of ancestral practices that are rooted in communality and that foster solidarity and mutual aid is instrumental to strengthen the social fabric of Indigenous and small-scale farmers in Guatemala.”

Through the implementation of agroecology schools across the country, Utz Che’ says it has improved the livelihoods of 33,000 families. In total, these farmers also report that they collectively protect 74,000 hectares (182,858 acres) of forest across Guatemala by fighting fires, monitoring illegal logging and practicing reforestation.

In 2022, Utz Che’ surveyed 32 women who had taken part in the agroecology school. All the women had become fully responsible for the production, distribution and commercialization of their products, which was taught to them in agroecology schools. Today, they sell their produce at the artisanal market in Totonicapán.

The findings, which highlight the many ways the schools helped them improve their knowledge, also demonstrate the power and potential of these schools to increase opportunities and strengthen the independence of women producers across the country...

The schools are centered around the idea that people are responsible for protecting their natural resources and, through the revitalization of ancestral practices, can help safeguard the environment and strengthen livelihoods."

-via Mongabay News, July 7, 2023

[shaykappa]

Favourite/Funniest Line's from Crooked Kingdom

"Let's go." "Me?" "No the idiot behind you."

"How is-" "Nina is fine. Jesper is fine. Everyone is fine except for me because I am stuck with a gang of hand-wringing nursemaids."

"Now why can't people be this easily trained?" Kaz murmured as he crouched to oblige the dog with a belly rub.

"Did you know I am next in line for the Fjerdan throne? They call me Princess Ilse of Engelsberg." "There is no princess of Engelsberg. It's a fishing town."

"Has anyone noticed this whole city is looking for us, mad at us, or wants to kill us?" "So?" "Well, usually it's just half the city."

"Big, blond and blind. The Fjerdan way."

"If I live I'll buy you waffles." "You don't have enough money to buy her waffles."

"Do you know what Van Eck's problem is?" "No honor?" "Rotten parenting skills?" "Receding hairline?"

"Isn't that how things are done around here? We all tell Kaz we are fine and the do something stupid?" "Are we that predictable?" "Yes."

"It seems everyone is forming alliances." "They're called friendships Kaz."

"You are very welcome Nina Zenik. You may repay me in the costumary way." "Waffles?" "Lots of them."

"I need to do this. I've never been to my mother's grave. I am not leaving Kerch without saying goodbye." "Trust me, you care more than she does."

"You are stupid about a lot of things Wylan, but you are not stupid. And if I ever hear you call yourself a moron again, I am going to tell Matthias you tried to kiss Nina. With tongue." "He' ll never believe it." "Then I 'll tell Nina you tried to kiss Matthias. With tongue."

"Come on, let's do steal all my dad's money. "Isn't it your money?" "Okay, let's go steal it back."

"I think you 'd flirt with a date palm if it would pay you any attention." "If I flirted with a plant, you can bet it would stand up and take notice."

"Yes, yes, Nina Zenik is hungry. Now, will someone feed me before I am forced to cook one of you?" "Don't be ridiculous. You don't know how to cook."

"On a dare I ate a literal through full of waffles and nearly went back for seconds."

"Pick up the pace." "If I spill a single drop of this it will burn straight through the floor onto my father's dinner guests." "Take your time."

"I am Dunyasha, the White Blade, trained by the Sages of Ahmrat Jen, the greatest assassin of this age." "Doesn't ring a bell."

"Fate brought me here." "And does fate pay your wages?"

"My parents thought I would drown because I crawled into the sea as a baby, laughing." "Perhaps they were worried you would talk yourself to death."

"Kaz. You may not be glad we are alive, but we are glad you are alive."

"You are better than waffles, Matthias Helvar." "Let's not say things we don't mean, my love."

"Are you mad?" "I'd probably be happier if I was."

"You have to be the craziest bastard I ever met." "I'll take that as a compliment."

"My leg! My leg!" "I recommend a cane."

"What is wrong with him?" "Same thing that's always wrong with him. He's Kaz Brekker."

Jesper followed Wylan down the hall. "Hey." Wylan kept going.

"Jes, I 've thought about this-" "Thought of me? Late at night? What was I wearing?"

Wylan ran his tongue over his lips and spat in his father's face.

He was pale, with tufty orange brows and a hunched posture that gave him the look of a giant shrimp.

He felt bad for the guy. Not bad enough to wake him up and untie him, but still.

"I 've been shot!" He had not been shot.

"How about I push you in the canal and we see if you know how to swim?"

"Tell you what. When the day comes, mark it on your calendars. I can think of a lot of people who 'll want to throw a party.

"Wait. Is my tie straight?"

[book--brackets]

Summaries under the cut

Emily by L. M. Montgomery

Emily Starr never knew what it was to be lonely—until her beloved father died. Now Emily's an orphan, and her mother's snobbish relatives are taking her to live with them at New Moon Farm. She's sure she won't be happy. Emily deals with stiff, stern Aunt Elizabeth and her malicious classmates by holding her head high and using her quick wit. Things begin to change when she makes friends: with Teddy, who does marvelous drawings; with Perry, who's sailed all over the world with his father yet has never been to school; and above all, with Ilse, a tomboy with a blazing temper. Amazingly, Emily finds New Moon beautiful and fascinating. With new friends and adventures, Emily might someday think of herself as Emily of New Moon.

Savvy by Ingrid Law

For generations, the Beaumont family has harbored a magical secret. They each possess a "savvy" -a special supernatural power that strikes when they turn thirteen. Grandpa Bomba moves mountains, her older brothers create hurricanes and spark electricity . . . and now it's the eve of Mibs's big day.

As if waiting weren't hard enough, the family gets scary news two days before Mibs's birthday: Poppa has been in a terrible accident. Mibs develops the singular mission to get to the hospital and prove that her new power can save her dad. So she sneaks onto a salesman's bus . . . only to find the bus heading in the opposite direction. Suddenly Mibs finds herself on an unforgettable odyssey that will force her to make sense of growing up-and of other people, who might also have a few secrets hidden just beneath the skin.

The Last Apprentice by Joseph Delaney

Thomas Ward is the seventh son of a seventh son and has been apprenticed to the local Spook. The job is hard, the Spook is distant and many apprentices have failed before Thomas. Somehow Thomas must learn how to exorcise ghosts, contain witches and bind boggarts. But when he is tricked into freeing Mother Malkin, the most evil witch in the County, the horror begins...

The View from Saturday by E. L. Konigsburg

How has Mrs. Olinski chosen her sixth-grade Academic Bowl team? She had a number of answers. But were any of them true? How had she really chosen Noah and Nadia and Ethan and Julian? And why did they make such a good team? It was a surprise to a lot of people when Mrs. Olinski's team won the sixth-grade Academic Bowl contest at Epiphany Middle School. It was an even bigger surprise when they beat the seventh grade and the eighth grade, too. And when they went on to even greater victories, everyone began to ask: How did it happen?

It happened at least partly because Noah had been the best man (quite by accident) at the wedding of Ethan's grandmother and Nadia's grandfather. It happened because Nadia discovered that she could not let a lot of baby turtles die. It happened when Ethan could not let Julian face disaster alone. And it happened because Julian valued something important in himself and saw in the other three something he also valued.

Mrs. Olinski, returning to teaching after having been injured in an automobile accident, found that her Academic Bowl team became her answer to finding confidence and success. What she did not know, at least at first, was that her team knew more than she did the answer to why they had been chosen.

The Looking Glass Wars by Frank Beddor

When Alyss Heart, newly orphaned heir to the Wonderland throne, flees through the Pool of Tears to escape her murderous Aunt Redd, she finds herself lost and alone in Victorian London. Befriended by an aspiring author named Lewis Carrol, Alyss tells the violent, heartbreaking story of her young life. Alyss trusts this author to tell the truth so that someone, somewhere will find her and bring her home. But he gets the story all wrong. He even spells her name incorrectly!

Fortunately, Royal Bodyguard Hatter Madigan knows all too well the awful truth of Alyss' story - and he's searching every corner of our world to find the lost princess and return her to Wonderland, to battle Redd for her rightful place as the Queen of Hearts.

Misty by Marguerite Henry

"You'll never catch the Phantom," says Grandpa. "That horse is fast as the wind. She's escaped from every roundup on the island!" But Paul and Maureen want the beautiful wild mare for their very own. "I'm going to capture her myself," says Paul.

When Paul finally overtakes the Phantom, he makes a surprising discovery. Running at her side is a brand-new, silvery-gray colt - Misty!

East by Edith Pattou

Rose has always been different.

Since the day she was born, it was clear she had a special fate. Her superstitious mother keeps the unusual circumstances of Rose's birth a secret, hoping to prevent her adventurous daughter from leaving home... but she can't suppress Rose's true nature forever.

So when an enormous white bear shows up one cold autumn evening and asks teenage Rose to come away with it--in exchange for health and prosperity for her ailing family--she readily agrees.

Rose travels on the bear's broad back to a distant and empty castle, where she is nightly joined by a mysterious stranger. In discovering his identity, she loses her heart-- and finds her purpose--and realizes her journey has only just begun.

The Midwife's Apprentice by Karen Cushman

The girl known only as Brat has no family, no home, and no future until she meets Jane the Midwife and becomes her apprentice. As she helps the sharp-tempered Jane deliver babies, Brat--who renames herself Alyce--gains knowledge, confidence, and the courage to want something from life: "A full belly, a contented heart, and a place in this world." Medieval village life makes a lively backdrop for the funny, poignant story of how Alyce gets what she wants.

Circle of Magic by Tamora Pierce

With her gift of weaving silk thread and creating light, Sandry is brought to the Winding Circle community. There she meets Briar, a former thief who has a way with plants; Daja, an outcast gifted at metalcraft; and Tris, whose connection with the weather unsettles everyone, including herself. At Winding Circle, the four misfits are taught how to use their magic - and to trust one another. But then disaster strikes their new home. Can Sandry weave together four kinds of magical power and save herself, her friends, and the one place where they've ever been accepted?

Catherine, Called Birdy by Karen Cushman

Catherine feels trapped. Her father is determined to marry her off to a rich man--any rich man, no matter how awful.

But by wit, trickery, and luck, Catherine manages to send several would-be husbands packing. Then a shaggy-bearded suitor from the north comes to call--by far the oldest, ugliest, most revolting suitor of them all.

Unfortunately, he is also the richest.

Can a sharp-tongued, high-spirited, clever young maiden with a mind of her own actually lose the battle against an ill-mannered, piglike lord and an unimaginative, greedy toad of a father?

Deus! Not if Catherine has anything to say about it!

[moritzakgae]

there is an image that, i assume, was posted by steven sater of the original draft of the moritz at the riverside scene so i wanted to highlight the main differences between this and the final script.

in the final script, after calling for ilse, he silently accepts that she is gone. in the draft he says, "but then, for that, you need peace of mind -- joy. joy in your heart."

the next part, i believe it's better to read both in full. first, the draft:

MORITZ So, what will I say? I’ll tell them all, the angels, I got drunk in the snow, and sang, and drank warm goat’s milk… Yes, I’ll tell them I’m ready now, I’ll be an angel. You. Ilse. I’d have been you. It. I’d have been it. All of it – sun, earth, moon, the river… Oh, yes, right. Right. The river. (MORITZ withdraws FRAU Gabor’s letter from his pocket, and burns it.)

compared to the final script:

MORITZ So, what will I say? I’ll tell them all, the angels, I got drunk in the snow, and sang, and played pirates… Yes, I’ll tell them, I’m ready now. I’ll be an angel. (MORITZ sighs, looks out on the night. He withdraws the gun from his pocket.)

the difference in this part makes me feel crazy. "you, ilse. i'd have been you." i wish they kept that line in.

finally, written on the script but crossed out, after the line, "i'll be an angel", is "my god. i was hardly ever human."

I'll be an angel. My god, I was hardly ever human.

in so few lines, i feel like they had so much more to add to his character in the show. the way he takes care of someone finding frau gabor's letter where she derides his suicidal thoughts. or his ardent to desire to be someone else. anyone else. if they found some way to incorporate the headless queen from wedekind's play into his character. man. i am way too crazy.

[alwayschasingrainbows]

My little quest to find the most iconic dresses for Montgomery's girls.

None of the pictures is mine. They are all from Pinterest. They may be historically inaccurate. They are also not ideal :).

Valancy Stirling:

"She got a pretty green crêpe dress with a girdle of crimson beads, at a bargain sale, a pair of silk stockings, to match, and a little crinkled green hat with a crimson rose in it." (The Blue Castle).

"She had a little smoke-blue chiffon which she always put on when they spent the evening at home—smoke-blue with touches of silver about it." (The Blue Castle).

My idea of what Valancy's (borrowed) masquerade dress MIGHT have looked like.

"Once they did go to a masquerade dance in the pavilion at one of the hotels up the lake, and had a glorious evening, but slipped away in their canoe, before unmasking time, back to the Blue Castle." (The Blue Castle).

Emily Byrd Starr

On the left: "It is to be of shot silk, blue in one light, silver in others, like a twilight sky, glimpsed through a frosted window-pane—with a bit of lace-foam here and there, like those little feathers of snow clinging to my window-pane." (Emily Climbs)

On the right: "An arrow of rhinestones in her dark hair—she had hair that wore jewels well—lent the necessary note of brilliance to the new dress of silvery-green lace over a pale-blue slip that became her so well." (Emily's Quest).

On the left: "it was a pretty crepe thing, of a pinkish-grey—the shade, I think, which was then called ashes-of-roses—and was made collarless—a great concession on Elizabeth's part—with the big puffed sleeves that look very absurd to-day, but which, like every other fashion, were pretty and piquant when worn by the youth and beauty of their time." (Emily Climbs).

On the right: "I want you to wear harebell blue gauze over ivory taffeta for your bridesmaid dress, darling" (Emily's Quest).

Anne Shirley:

"Oh, how pretty it was—a lovely soft brown gloria with all the gloss of silk; a skirt with dainty frills and shirrings; a waist elaborately pintucked in the most fashionable way, with a little ruffle of filmy lace at the neck. But the sleeves—they were the crowning glory! Long elbow cuffs, and above them two beautiful puffs divided by rows of shirring and bows of brown-silk ribbon." (Anne of Green Gables).

"In her light dress, with her slender delicacy, she made him think of a white iris." (Anne of Island).

Rilla Blythe

"Miss Oliver, shall I wear my white dress tonight or my new green one? The green one is by far the prettier, of course, but I'm almost afraid to wear it to a shore dance for fear something will happen to it." (Rilla of Ingleside).

Pat Gardiner:

On the right: "Pat slipped into the house and flung a bright-hued scarf over her brown dress with its neck-frill of pleated pink chiffon. She always thought she looked nicer in that dress than any other." (Pat of Silver Bush).

On the left: "Pat had on her blue linen afternoon dress...which, incidentally, was the most becoming thing she owned."(Pat of Silver Bush).

And bonus:

Robin Stuart

"She wore a dress of pale yellow taffeta, with a great rose of deeper yellow velvet at one of her beautiful shoulders. Jane thought she looked like a lovely golden princess, with the slender flame of the diamond bracelet on the creamy satin of her arm."(Jane of Lantern Hill).

"[M]other came in to kiss her good night, cool, slim and fragrant, in a dress of rose crêpe with little wisps of lace over the shoulders. Mother's blue eyes seemed to mist a little."(Jane of Lantern Hill).

"She wore a green dress the first time I saw her...well, if any other girl had worn the dress, it would have been a green dress and nothing more. On Robin it was magic ...mystery...the robe of Titania. I would have kissed the hem of it." (Jane of Lantern Hill).

Another bonus (because her style is so iconic):

Ilse Burnley

"Ilse in a yellow silk gown the colour of her hair and a golden-brown hat the colour of her eyes, giving you the sensation that a gorgeous golden rose was at large in the garden." (Emily's Quest).

"Ilse, a glorified shining creature in torquoise-blue taffeta, looking the queen with a foam of laces on her full bosom and rose-and-silver nosegays at her shoulder." (Emily's Quest).

Hope you enjoyed this little compilation:) Feel free to add more ideas!

[bewareofitalics]

I meant to come home and wash the red off before Aunt Elizabeth saw me. But she took a notion to call for me on her way home from the store. She did not say anything there but when we got home she said, “What have you been doing to your face, Emily?” I told her and I expected an awful scolding, but all she said was, “Don’t you know that you have made yourself cheap?” I did know it, too. I had felt that all along although I couldn’t think of the right word for it before. “I will never do such a thing again, Aunt Elizabeth,” I said. “You’d better not,” she said. “Go and wash your face this instant.” I did and I was not half so pretty but I felt ever so much better. Strange to relate, dear Father, I heard Aunt Elizabeth laughing about it in the pantry to Aunt Laura afterwards. You never can tell what will make Aunt Elizabeth laugh.

I love the hints that Aunt Elizabeth is softening. This one in particular makes me think of Marilla (and Anne, when dealing with Davy).

After we got into bed I told [Ilse] a lot of things I wished afterwards I hadn’t. Secrets.

So, what do we think Emily's secrets are? Things the reader knows about, like the letters to her father? Or are we being left out?

And then a most surprising thing happened. Relations are always surprising you. Aunt Elizabeth spoke up and said, “I do wish, Ruth, that you and Wallace would leave that child alone.” I could hardly believe my ears.

Heck yeah, Aunt Elizabeth!

And I thought of you, darling Father, and Mother and poor little Mike and Great-great-Grandmother Murray, and of my old account book that Aunt Elizabeth burned, because it seemed just like a person to me.

Emphasis mine. A deliberate instance of memories getting blurred, or did LMM forget what happened to the account book?

[bluemirrorangel]

Spring awakening characters as things me and my friends have said

Melchior: she didn't mark my test this shit's homophobic.  

Moritz: I have concluded that my entire life is just wii mii music and  unsettling images. 

Georg: I'm sorry but how the fuck is stealing a pigeon illegal like how do you even steal a fucking pigeon like I'm sorry but if it's on the street it's free real estate. 

Otto: I spent my entire life thinking being  royalty  was something special like they called them blue bloods and I thought their blood was literally blue like you'd cut them and the blood stayed blue. 

Melchior: I don't deal with my intrusive thoughts; I just kind of intervene when they're like, 'you should jump off a bridge.' I'm all 'do you take constructive criticism?'

Ernst: I'm sorry but why tell me that i shoul take art this year like you've seen my drawing ? my stick figures look like they should go to A&E.  

Hanschen: oh no I'm being sincere I just constantly sound sarcastic.

Anna: I have nothing against being in the ensemble it's just you get given shit by the people whose characters have names she was all like 'you know you're replaceable right?'  Well no shit Sandy so are you that's why you have a fucking understudy.

  Moritz: honestly love triangles are fucking pyramid schemes.

  Ilse:  grandparents are weirdIi just got given £10 and a half assed talk about acceptance involving  the phrase alternative lifestyle like my aunt practices witchcraft but my lifestyles alternative.

  Wendla: and remember kids you'll never be single with Christian mingle.

[mrspasser]

Finding solace in you

On A03

Listen. Steve is not an idiot. No matter how many times someone calls him stupid, he’s not an idiot. It’s not his fault his friends are all certified brainiacs and that the ones that aren’t on the honor roll have either supernatural (El) or supersarcasm powers (Max). Steve is just Steve. Not good enough to get into college, not good enough to hold his parent’s attention for more than a fleeting moment, not even good enough to make his first real love love him back. But Steve is Steve. He has some good qualities. He can swing a nail bat, for instance. And the person or monster who broke into his home at 2 A.M. and is making a ruckus in the kitchen is gonna see how well Steve can swing that bat. 

Steve is not an idiot. He quickly puts on jeans, a sweater and his tennis shoes, so he doesn’t have to face whoever it is in his boxers. He doesn’t make a noise when he tiptoes down the stairs. He doesn’t turn on the lights. He doesn’t call out a tentative “Who goes there?” and he most certainly doesn’t wait to raise his bat to a swinging position. 

Steve is an idiot.

Because Steve is seeing Eddie in his kitchen. Eddie Munson, who died in Dustin’s arms in the Upside Down and whose body they couldn’t bring with them when they returned to the real world. Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson, who fought off a swarm of Demobats with nothing but a spear and a shield. Eddie the Banished, who was hunted down by an angry mob because they thought he was a satanic, murderous cult leader. Eddie the Hero, who gave his life to save his friends. Eddie with the expressive face, who gave Steve his vest ‘for his modesty’ and hunts Steve’s dreams every night. Eddie with the doe eyes, who fills Steve with regret about things that never happened but possibly could have, if only if they had more time. More time together.

“Hey man, sorry to wake you,” Eddie says, like he has just seen Steve yesterday instead of four months ago. Like he had not died in Dustin’s arms, his lifeless body too heavy and limp to move with them through the portal. Like Steve hasn’t been living with an overwhelming sense of guilt that clamps down uncomfortably on his chest every time he has a moment to think. Guilt that has him making himself run haggard, keeping himself busy, tiring himself out to the point he can no longer think. 

“Sorry about the glass,” Eddie winces. He holds up the bottom half apologetically, the shards that formed the top half scattered on the floor by his feet. He’s bare footed, only wearing ripped jeans and a torn up shirt. The fingers around the glass are long and pointy, the tips dark. They look like claws. “I was thirsty, wanted to have some water.” He looks at Steve sheepishly, his eyes gleaming in the low light of the moon that comes in through the kitchen window. “I can replace it.”

“Don’t bother. We have a cupboard full of the same damn glasses.”

Steve is an idiot. He shouldn’t be talking to whatever it is that is standing in his kitchen, he should swing his bat and kill the damn thing that wears Eddie’s face.

“Okay.” Eddie moves to put the remnants of the glass back on the counter. It lands on its side, rolling into the sink with a clang. Eddie doesn’t react to it, he looks around the dark kitchen and asks where Steve keeps a broom and a dustpan. 

“Bottom cabinet in the corner,” Steve points.

Eddie nods eagerly and turns on the spot to go where Steve points him. One of the leathery wings on his back rakes over the kitchen island and mows down the decorative ceramic dish that Steve’s mom uses as a fruit basket. It’s been a while since she’s been home, so it’s only the dish that hits the floor, not any fruit. The ceramic shatters when it hits the tiles, small shards flying as far as Steve’s feet.

“Oh shit. I’m really not doing this on purpose, I swear.” It’s a strange thing to see Eddie so meekly, his clawed hands balled in front of his chest, his wings almost drooping.

Steve is an idiot. 

“It’s okay,” he says. “I didn’t like that thing anyway.” It’s true, he always thought the dish with the frumpy vines painted across the surface was ugly. “Stay where you are, I’ll get it.” 

Steve places his bat on the counter and flicks the light switch for the lights above the kitchen island so he can see better. Eddie doesn’t react to the yellow light that floods the kitchen. Steve moves towards the bottom cabinet that holds the broom and dustpan while Eddie makes himself as small as possible in the space between the sink and the kitchen island. He sweeps up the glass and ceramic, noticing that Eddie’s toes are as black as his fingertips when he crouches down by his feet to get the last bits of glass. The nails are longer and pointy. Claw-like. 

Steve sets the dustpan on the counter and gingerly fishes the broken glass out of the sink. Eddie follows him around the kitchen with his eyes, only speaking up when Steve has everything tidied up and puts the dustpan and broom away again. ���I’m thirsty.” 

“Water?” At Eddie’s nod Steve grabs a glass from the cabinet - the exact same as the one Eddie broke - and moves over to the tap. It brings him close to Eddie again, who is still trying to take up the least amount of space as possible. He’s fidgeting with his rings, Steve notices, the blackness of his fingertips extending down to the large metal rings. Eddie’s wearing his Hellfire shirt, but it’s filthy and it has a large tear down the collar. Eddie’s collarbones and part of his chest are visible, covered in dirt and tattoos. He’s not wearing the guitar pick necklace, because Dustin took that with him when they left Eddie’s body in the Upside Down. Steve wonders if Eddie misses it. “Here you go,” he says, handing the other man a glass of water.

“Thanks.” Eddie shuffles a little closer and takes the glass gingerly, clearly trying to not break it again. He downs the entire glass in one go and makes a face. He thrusts the glass back at Steve. “More please.”

“Sure.” Steve fills the glass with water again, glancing over his shoulder at Eddie who keeps crowding closer, inch by slow inch. “Are you okay?”

“Sure,” Eddie responds, “just thirsty.”

“You have wings.” It feels like a stupid thing to say, so perhaps everyone was right and Steve really is stupid.

Eddie looks at him quizzically as he puts the refilled glass to his lips. “Wings?”

“Nevermind.” Steve is not surprised when he has to fill up the glass again. Eddie is standing really close now, he looks over Steve’s right shoulder to see how he moves the glass underneath the tap and fills it up. He toys with a lock of curls, twisting it around his black finger again and again. When he bites his lip his teeth are sharp and pointy like his nails. The skin breaks and a drop of dark blood pearls on his lip. Eddie doesn’t show any sign that he even feels it and licks the blood away with a quick flick of his tongue, his eyes never leaving Steve’s face.

It’s disconcerting how much the thing still looks like Eddie, still sounds like Eddie. It’s Eddie’s doe eyes that stare at Steve, it’s Eddie’s lips that curl into a grateful smile when he hands him another glass of water. It’s Eddie’s voice that thanks him, that tells him that he’s “still so thirsty.” And: “Can I have another one, sweetheart?”

By the fourth glass Eddie has moved from twisting his own hair around his finger to scratching his nails through the hair at Steve’s nape. He can tell it’s meant to be done gently, but the nails are sharp and they burn where they make red marks on his skin. He leans against his hands braced on the edge of the sink, his head hanging down between his shoulders. Eddie is a firm line against his back. He’s not exactly warm, but he’s not cold either.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“For what?” The scratching at his nape stops for a second and then it picks up again.

“For leaving you behind.” His voice catches in his throat. “For not being able to save you.”

The hand leaves his neck and two arms wind around his waist, mimicking a hug. It’s all done carefully, almost lovingly, yet the pointy nails still catch in his sweater and he can feel them lightly prick his skin when Eddie pulls himself closer against Steve’s back. His breath is hot on his neck when he speaks. “I’m here now, Stevie, aren’t I?”

Steve sighs, leaning into the treacherous embrace. “Yeah.” 

Steve is an idiot.

Eddie hugs him even closer, making Steve stand more upright and pressing him against the sink. Steve has one hand on the sink to brace himself, the other is holding on to Eddie’s arm where it is pressed against his chest. The hand with the black finger is splayed across his heart, rubbing the fabric of his sweater against his skin. Eddie noses behind his ear, nuzzling against him in lazy movements. “You smell so good, sweetheart,” he whisper-sighs. 

Steve is an idiot.

He closes his eyes, listens to Eddie telling him how nice he feels, how sweet he is, how he wants to climb inside him and live there. His nail bat lies forgotten on the kitchen counter. There’s a fleeting sense of regret when he thinks of Robin, of Dustin and the other kids, but it’s forgotten when Eddie’s hand caresses his throat, his lips traveling the line of Steve’s jaw.

“I’m so thirsty, sweetheart,” Eddie croons in a quiet voice, only for Steve to hear.

Steve doesn’t open his eyes. He feels drunk and lucid at the same time. “I know,” he whispers back.

The hand on his throat moves up, sharp nails scratching his cheek but only barely, coaxing him to look at Eddie. Dark, half lidded eyes catch his and cool lips press a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “I want you to be mine, Stevie, mine alone.”

Steve shudders, his breath catching in his throat. He doesn’t try to move away from Eddie’s hold, feels himself sinking into it instead.

“Do you want to be mine, sweetheart?”

“Y- you promise?” It’s more a breath than a whisper, but Eddie hears it anyway. More importantly, he understands. He breathes in deeply, humming softly, happily. 

“I will be so good to you, Stevie,” Eddie promises. “You will be mine and I will be yours.”

Steve knows that what Eddie is promising him is not good. That there’ll be pain and grief and despair. But that’s familiar. Steve knows pain and grief and despair. And he knows loneliness. So when Eddie asks him again: “Do you want to be mine?”

“Y-yes.”

Eddie’s teeth are sharp and it’s more tearing than biting. His blood is warm when it runs down his throat. Steve feels his body growing colder, his vision swimming. But Eddie holds him close, keeps pressing bloody kisses to his skin, keeps telling Steve the same thing over and over again: “You are mine and I am yours.” 

Right before everything goes black, Steve knows that it’s the truth.

“You are mine and I am yours.”

[ritsho]

my dealer: got some straight gas 🔥😛 this strain is called "the word of your body" 😳 you’ll be zonked out of your gourd 💯

me: yeah whatever. I don't feel shit.

5 minutes later: dude I swear I just saw ilse in the forest

my buddy melchior pacing: the church is lying to us

[prrcyjacksons]

book alphabet — n for nina zenik

“ Did you know I’m next in line for the Fjerdan throne? They call me Princess Ilse of Engelsberg. There is no princess of Engelsberg. It’s a fishing town. If we’re going to lie to ourselves, we might as well be grand about it. ”

[Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo]

[reallyromealone]

Art credit: @mightstillbeloading

Monty x male reader

Fluff, platonic

🩷🌟🩷🌟🩷🌟🩷🌟🩷🌟🩷🌟🩷🌟🩷🌟🩷🌟🩷

(name) never really thought about Monty's cat attributes save for the ears and tail until he walked into the apartment to see the catboy glaring at the been bag chair, the 5'1 hybrid hissing "what's your problem?" (Name) asked setting his bag on the kitchen table as he watched this unfold "this punk ass beanbag chair shocked me!" He hissed out and before (name) could say anything the pink haired man lunge at the sack of plastic beads.

It was fascinating really.

Seeing him lose against a god damn bean bag chair.

Pouting with his hood up Monty ate his cheesecake, a galaxy blanket over his shoulders as (name) moved the beanbag chair away from him "you know your sweater conducts static with that chair why do you constantly do it?"

"It's comfy" he said with his ears flat and sad and (name) sighed "don't pout you Hobbit, come on we gotta go grocery shopping"

(Name) looked dejected till (name) spoke again "we can get McDonald's after"

Monty was in a better mood as they shopped, the cat boy craving "classy lunchables" while going to go collect the ingredients for a lunchables sandwich aka cheese, sliced meats and crackers.

"Salted or cheesy..." he mumbled as he manage dto wander off from his roommate, (name) in the bakery section getting breads and such.

"Personally I think the cheesy ones are pretty great" a voice rang beside him, a tall buff man eyed him "cute sweater by the way, would look better on the floor"

"This floors nasty, my sweater isn't going anywhere near it and I'm tempted for cheesy but I'm putting cheese on it and I don't want conflicting cheese flavors" he said softly, the flirting going over his head completely "though I may get the spicy ones for a nice contrast" he began speaking to himself as he looked at the selection again "I was wondering if I could get your number?" The guy asked again and the shorty that was Monty glanced at him, his sleepy burgundy and pink eyes confused "did the deli call me already? The lady said it would be at least 20 minutes with the line..." he was so confused and the other sighed.

"No I mean--""Yo monty! I got the stuff, let's get to the deli and go! I'm starving!" (Name) came into the Ilse and Monty instantly forgot about the person he was talking to and grabbed all three boxes claiming "I deserve variety" as his tail swished happily, back turned to the stranger as (name) glared at him as to say "back off"

"He's weird anyways" the stranger said leaving and Monty wasn't even remotely listening "I hope they got kielbasa" (name) smiled at his roommates antics as they went to go get the last of their groceries.

[sun-lit-roses]

Emily of New Moon Book Club Chapter 11

AKA Eeeee the return of Ilse!!!

Starting out strong with Emily imagining her death as punishment for Aunt Elizabeth again. I should really start counting chapters that occurs in as well as commentary on which realtions Emily resembles.

I mean, not that I disagree that Aunt Elizabeth is in the wrong here.

All I can think of is @mayusteapot calling this 'Jane Eyre fanfic.' Galaxy-brained take, it's so spot on! This is also where it could have taken a turn in that gothic rendition that was also being posted about 😂

Ilse!!❤️❤️❤️

It's interesting that Emily started off with an Anne-like view of friendship - vowing to go through life together and praying to die on the same day - but had that idyll shattered, unlike Anne with Diana. Now her approach to Ilse is 'offhand,' determined not to commit in the same way again.

Off topic I suppose, but it makes me think of Aunt Elizabeth, who also holds people at arms length with an air of indifference or reserve. What led to her even greater distancing from others?

Now I'm comparing Emily to her relatives. It's catching!

I think I've posted or replied to a post on the topic of Ilse's validation of Emily before. That, even though her bar of adult discerning judgement lies later in her life, she values Ilse's opinion as she never did Rhoda's. Rhoda 'giggled' at her writing, but Emily considered that an indictment of Rhoda, not her work. Ilse, she trusted to be honest.

This scene really sets the bedrock for their relationship: Emily wants someone who's honest. Ilse wants someone who likes her for who she is. And (mild spoilers for later books) that relationship is steady as a rock unless either of them turn away from those two central premises.

Dear Aunt Laura! The more I read this time around, the more I desperately want a prequel of the aunts.

[bluebird722]

Attack on Titan: Junior High Story Ideas

Everyone in Year 1 cheers on Sasha at every eating contest, but only Mikasa is indifferent and ponders how Sasha is able to eat all of that food without getting a stomachache or gaining weight.

One student receives a Ninento Wii game as a birthday present, but the party turns into an endless competition between Mikasa and Annie at every available game. (Eren, on the other hand, doesn’t care; Wii did not have a simulation where the user could pretend to fight Titans.)

One time, Connie falls asleep in class and leaves a puddle of drool on his desk. Needless to say, Levi whacks and chases him all the way home (after the former rushes into the classroom, of course, and cleans it up).

With Marco’s help, Jean tries to film a documentary called “The Bachelor”, about his pursuit of and (attempts to) date girls in school. It does not go as planned.

At some point, Bertold accidentally kicks a student in the face because he is started out of his sleep and therefore his odd sleeping position. He ends up having to buy the student lunch to avoid being reported to Mr. Keith.

When Petra has a bad day, Eld and Gunther cheer her up by constructing a handmade pinata of Oluo’s face (with his tongue bleeding out) for them to whack until Oluo and the first years arrive. Sometimes the others ask what’s with the confetti and candy wrappers on the ground.

Sometimes Rico likes to improvise ODM gear as a swing on a tree branch when she wants to enjoy a warm day.

Partially to impress Christa, Reiner proves his strength by lifting classmates over his head like a barbell while standing, but Ymir sneaks heavy weights into the pockets of her uniform to humiliate him. Reiner almost pulls a muscle, and Ymir says to herself, “My work is done.”

Armin is almost kicked out of the school play because of his futon, which certainly does not fit into the storyline. Therefore, all the Year 1 students show up to the recital wearing their most childish blankets and futons as headwraps, like capes, or even improvised dresses.

Hange pays Annie to be the “translator” between the captive Titans and, as Eren and his friends joke, the “new definition to the term ‘mad scientist’” (who is already going further broke). Annie pretends that she is not as fluent as Hange would have liked, but she will sneak their favorite snacks and tries to plot a way for them to escape and chase Hange to the ends of the planet.

No student will ever forget that Mr. Hannes was once so intoxicated that he tried to kiss Erwin on the cheek. Fortunately, Ilse’s story claims that Hannes was teasing Erwin for being so serious.

Ymir blackmails Reiner to stay away from Christa by threatening to show a video she filmed of Reiner gushing over his newborn cousin, Gabi.

After Hitch complains about how Annie looks when she sleeps, Annie gets back at her by surprising Hitch with a room full of fluffy kittens, only to have Marco broadcast Hitch acting silly to the entire student body and Marlowe provide humiliating commentary.

For the school talent show, Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Sasha, and Connie form a band called “Attack on Titan” to commemorate their victory over their gigantic peers. Only after the band No Name discontinues (due to graduation) do they become victorious.

As part of a fundraiser, Eren and the rest of Year 1 craft together two handmade manga series called “Attack on Titan” and “Attack on Titan: Junior High”, the latter based on their own experiences.