#it’s quite wonderful if I do say so myself

[weirdero]

I want to talk about Helena’s performance as Helly and her deep rooted misunderstanding of who Helly is as a person. And just in general how I think she perceives her especially after yesterday’s episode.

Helena is incredibly attentive, almost to the point of being terrifying. In the short moments she interacts with anyone, everything in her head is already scripted, calculated, and premeditated. She’s also a great method actress, reacting based on the energy around her. It’s like a stand up comic, constantly adjusting their performance to make sure their actions land. If something doesn’t click, she shifts.

Throughout the past couple of episodes, Helena spends most of her time just trying to go with the flow move with the water, trying to fit in without standing out, constantly monitoring the group and their reactions at every turn. And so far, she was good at it. She can play the part, until her own emotions towards helly start to blind her.

In these two pics she does a quick scan of Irving’s and Marks faces trying to analyze their reactions

Helena knows the group loves Helly. She knows Mark loves Helly. And honestly, I’d bet every dollar in my bank account that it genuinely makes her want to kill herself. She has zero respect for Helly, and she doesn’t need to. To Helena, Helly, and by extension, the group, are low value. Insignificant. At her highest, Helly is just a worker, a cheap extension of herself created with the sole purpose of just being a good employee to be displayed to the public as a little shining lumon puppet. But shit, the bitch can’t even do that. She’s done quite the opposite. So yeah, not a person to be respected or valued.

This particular disdain (and fuck it, I’m just gonna say hate) that Helena carries for Helly spills into the bonfire scene with Milchick.

While Milchick is reading the story, enunciating every word like a second grade elementary school teacher, showing pictures like they’re in a reading circle, I kept wondering to myself if Helena ever experienced something similar to this as a child. How many times has she heard this same story? Or hell, any other old Kier mythology? Lumon, Kier, the Eagan legacy, it’s all she’s ever known. This world is nothing new to her.

Even though I believe Helena is a loyal servant, she probably didn’t love all the weird shit she had to put up with in her childhood. The weight of the Egan legacy probably suffocates her. But she accepted it either way because that was the life she was given. Unlike fucking helly. Fucking helly who’s forced her into this situation to begin with. In my opinion, all of these particular feelings make their way into Helena’s reaction to the story as Helly, which could only be described as a middle schooler who suddenly thinks they’re too old for camp.

I saw this post someone made about this scene, and like shit, yeah, that’s probably right. Helena had one chance to shit on the weird religion that’s been shoved down her throat since birth and she took that chance.

Helena, in this moment, settles for crude, mocking jokes. She probably does this partially out of her own selfish need for Mark’s validation, as well as playing her role trying to fit into the group but I also think it’s a great reflection of her own personal feelings toward Helly. Helly, who would’ve never acted that way. Helly, who is many things, but never cruel. Helena doesn’t seem to understand that. For the moment, Helena takes a step back, flanderizes Helly, reducing her to this cheeky, crude, disruptive little jokester. That’s how Helena views her. With no respect. No nuance. Helly has layers Helena does not care to see. Helly doesn’t just break rules; she actively causes chaos, subverting everything around her. She’s purposefully, and happily, malcontent. A bitch, dare I say, an ungrateful bitch, most likely from Helena’s point of view.

Irving, who keeps testing her, makes her slip a little more. I talked about this a little bit in my last post about severance, but Helena doesn’t take well to being disrespected. She shifts from wanting the group’s (and mostly Mark’s) validation to just wanting to put Irving in his fucking place. These people aren’t equal to her in her mind. They aren’t cut from the same cloth probably not even made from the same fabric. There are levels to this shit, and they are not on her level.

She says what she says. It’s cruel. Mostly, it’s stupid on her part.

And just like Irving said later, and what I said earlier Helly was many things, but…

What Helena did at the bonfire was a fuck up. An especially surprising one coming from a woman as controlling and calculated as her. I’m fully convinced all those little mistakes came from a deep frustration within her. Much of that anger, in my opinion, is stewing from the realization that Helly, someone created by her, literally the source of all of Helena’s recent problems, someone who will stop at nothing to take her down, that person, the woman who’s literally locked up inside her, is more free than she will ever be.

Yes, Helena has no respect for Helly. Yes, she most likely hates that bitch. But when she herself is acting as Helly, it gives her the opportunity to almost let go. She gets the chance to essentially kill the bitch that’s been fucking up her life whilst simultaneously getting a chance to talk to this man who cares so deeply for a version of herself she hates, Even if it’s not the most ideal of situations (it’s not), it’s still something. I think, at the bonfire, she reflects on the ridiculous situation she’s found herself. All this shit caused by some other version of herself that she created, that situation plus all the other shit going down at Lumon is probably alot. And it just all bubbles up inside her. And when she’s given even the smallest opportunity to let anything out, she’s going to take it.

Idk it’s therapeutic in a way I guess.

She’s unfiltered, blunt, and almost carefree in a way that’s shocking almost unsettling. It’s clearly how she sees Helly to some degree, but also her own need to scratch an itch she’s never dared to before. And even though it’s an act of “Helly”, it still leaves a clear aftertaste of Helena.

Keep thinking about these two little moments whilst she’s making her jokes she not only keeps checking on mark’s reaction but also seems to laugh at her self in a way that just seems so genuine almost self deprecating. She acknowledges the ridiculousness of her situation and this dumb ass story she’s probably heard a million times

In my last post about Severance, I mentioned that Helena is the master of speaking her truth without outright saying it. She hides behind walls, but as Helly, she’s free to speak without restraint.

(Also her having sex with mark is a clear way of her expressing this new found freedom with in her role as helly but ima talk about that later)

[hivemuthur]

Hi! Thank you so much for your beautiful work!! I hope it’s okay to make a silly little request

So I’m in my 20s (late 20s I might add) but I’ve never ever even kissed anyone yet and I kinda really want to so… Would you consider writing modern au!Viktor with a virgin!f!reader? Something about a first kiss or maybe having sex for the first time or first relationship..? Anything first in general 👉👈

Anon, I am beating my chest that it took so long and hope that you will get a notification that it is published (I sometimes don't when I ask anon questions). I was a late bloomer myself and it has some massive advantages. Though I hope you get to kiss someone nice soon!

First Rites

viktorxfemale!virgin!reader mature, kissing and making out :)

author’s note: Nothing smart to say here, really, other than I will probably write a part two of this :') @rennethen beta read!

word count: 1,8K

—

Your eyes sweep over Jayce’s tongue on Mel’s before you catch yourself staring. And even that doesn’t stop you. You analyse the movement of their hands, the way Jayce’s hips press into Mel’s, memorising all the smacking sounds they try to muffle into gentle giggles, hoping that you and Viktor are doing a decent job of not looking. When in reality, it’s the exact opposite.

It always goes the same way: the clack of heels echoing through the corridor outside the lab already has Jayce perking up. He grunts, clears his throat, and gets up slowly to avoid raised eyebrows and Viktor stating the obvious, like, “I guess this means you’re off for the day?”

Then, Jayce gives an apologetic smile and strolls toward the door, opening it before Mel can even knock. He exchanges a shy, stupid, cheek-reddened “Hi” for her sultry, thick “Hi yourself.” Their greetings die somewhere in their mouths when their lips meet in a first hello kiss. That one doesn’t last very long—soon, it shifts into an I missed you kiss. That lingers before melting into an I want you kiss or an I’d rather eat you than dinner kiss. And those are your favourites.

Even when you try very hard not to imagine what kind of kiss might follow that, you can’t help yourself. You end up blushed and flustered, your mind spinning with curiosity.

So you stare—impolitely, some might say—but for you, it’s research. You study and memorise, committing their courtship to memory so you can replay the scene later, your fingers wandering over your own lips as you imagine what it would be like. To have someone’s lips on yours, someone’s tongue in your mouth. It doesn’t sound all that appealing or hygienic, but it looks fantastic. It makes you feel a very much welcomed weirdness in your chest and belly, and having nothing else to supplement those feelings with, you just outright stare.

“It’s quite rude, if you ask me,” Viktor’s voice cuts through your thoughts just as Mel lets out a small, startled sound at Jayce’s hand cradling the back of her neck.

“Uh, I know. They should take it somewhere else, really,” you whisper back, but your tone is far from condemning. You say it absentmindedly, your eyes still glued to their mouths, chin propped on your hand, your scribbling abandoned the moment Jayce stood up.

“I meant your intense staring. But yes, such activities should be performed outside of work areas,” Viktor mumbles, not looking up from his notes.

Your blush deepens into an intense red hue as you finally look away and cover your face with your hand.

“Oh, I um… I didn’t mean to, it’s just—”

“All right, we’re off! Don’t work too hard while I’m gone!” Jayce’s beaming laughter cuts you off. Before you or Viktor can reply with a snarky comment, he sweeps Mel by the waist, and they disappear into the hallway. The sound of Mel’s giggle and the uneven click of her heels on the stone floors make you wonder if Jayce is kissing her neck or pressing her against a wall.

“It’s just?” Viktor insists, finally looking at you, his face forming an unamused expression.

“Nothing. It’s just nothing,” you respond quickly, picking up your pen with a shaky hand. You force yourself back to scribbling, even though your handwriting comes out ragged, suffering from both the excitement and the fear of Viktor’s prying eyes. But you do it anyway, desperate for any kind of shield.

“It does not look like nothing,” Viktor pushes, rotating in his chair to face you fully. You deepen your hunch, almost pressing your nose into the paper. How mortifying.

“I understand the concept of unrequited attraction, but you should really do yourself a favour and quit this self-flagellating practice of ogling every time Mel picks him up. It doesn’t lead to anything beneficial and impacts your focus,” Viktor drones, his nasal tone close to scolding.

You feel so scrutinised that you don’t even bother to correct his misunderstanding of your habit. You just sigh and continue your fake note taking.

“Trust me, I would know,” Viktor adds.

That catches your attention. How would he know anything about what you’re going through?

“Whatever do you mean by that?” you ask, keeping your face turned toward your notes, though your eyes wander to glance at him. He looks… unhappy? Mildly irritated? Annoyed at your lack of shame and focus?

“I am merely stating that lusting after someone out of reach is, at best, futile and, at worst, a path to ruin. For your own good, I would refrain from such practices,” Viktor says quietly.

You blink a few times as the words settle in your mind. He thinks I’m in love with Jayce? Lusting after him? It’s almost funny when you think that what you’ve been doing is in fact, just lusting.

“I can assure you, I am not attracted to Jayce. Or Mel, for that matter. I just—”

“Oh?” Viktor’s head snaps up so fast it surprises even him. He internally scolds himself for the involuntary reaction, but the undeniable punch of hope makes him lose control of his body for a moment. His pupils are wide, his brows lifted all the way to his forehead. “You’re not?”

“Uh, no,” you sigh, finally turning to face him properly. Your head dips as embarrassment weighs you down, but maybe admitting it will make it easier to carry. “I’m just… collecting research. For whenever I’ll have the opportunity. If ever. I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever—”

“What?” Viktor’s voice comes out too sharp. Shit. He scowls at himself—internally, of course—for how poorly he masked his shock. Way to be sensitive.

You wince, sinking deeper into yourself.

“Oh. Forgive me. I didn’t mean to… offend you,” he says carefully, trying not to sound too excited. His hand hovers over your knee while he calculates whether it would be proper to comfort you with a gentle touch. If you would like that. If you would like him to touch you.

But before he can decide, you turn back to your side of the desk, avoiding his gaze. “I’m not that easy to offend. It’s just not something I’m comfortable with. I’m a bit… too old for that, you know.”

And as if having a mild upper hand in this situation pumps Viktor with extra courage, he twists your chair back and rolls it close to his, until the sides of your thighs touch. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, then. I actually mean for the opposite of that,” he breathes and allows himself to glance over your lips, briefly. But you notice.

“Viktor?” you whisper, feeling an invisible force pulling you closer to his face. His arm extends over your legs, gripping the edge of your seat, and you feel the mild heat radiating off his body. You can smell his scent lingering in the space between you as you indulge in small glances at his eyes and lips.

“If you allow me, I could provide you with… some hands-on experience. Unless, of course, I am not—”

“Yes,” you answer quickly, and Viktor exhales into a relieved smile. He mumbles an “okay,” as if bracing himself, and closes the little distance left between you. His mouth presses against yours almost innocently as he takes your upper lip between his. His lips are soft and warm. It’s a long, lingering peck that has your eyes fluttering shut and a pool of heat blooming in your belly. You find yourself leaning into the kiss, your hips on the edge of the chair, to the point that your chests almost press against each other.

When he disconnects from you, it’s only to breathe against your mouth, “Is this alright?”

“Yes,” you say shakily, your lips brushing his. You open your eyes only to see a pretty pink blush splattered across his cheeks and ears. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth when he asks, “Would you like me to continue?”

“Please, continue,” you exhale, and something glints in Viktor’s eyes. Emboldened by your enthusiasm, he slides the hand gripping the stool to the back of your seat, pulling you closer until you can almost feel the flutter of his heart against yours as your chests meet. His other hand cradles the back of your neck, and oh, it’s the same gesture Jayce granted Mel that you’ve longed for so dearly, and you feel your skin prickling under Viktor’s touch.

His mouth is back on yours, this time the press is firmer, as he parts your lips with his tongue and—oh. Just oh, as your eyebrows knit together and the warmest of feelings floods your chest, making your hands jolt out to fist his vest, and you sigh the sweetest of sounds into his mouth. And he doesn’t stop there—the hand from the chair slides up your side, rests on your ribcage, fingers digging in when he—oh—also makes a sound. The hottest of sounds, a honey-dripping moan that makes you bite his lower lip, craving to eat him up with a long spoon.

And when he loses himself a bit—grunts and sighs into you, his hands wandering to rest at the base of your spine and cradle your cheek in a firm grip—you don’t even know how it happens, but you slide your hips to straddle his and press yourself down on him. To your delight, he has many more of those pretty sounds, some even forming something close to your name, making you melt into his arms.

When he pulls away, it’s only for an inch. “Oh, my,” Viktor mutters, rubbing his face against yours and kissing your neck. You like that too, but you already miss his hot tongue in your mouth. “A natural talent, I see,” he chuckles, and you blush even more at the thought of what he would say if he knew how much practice you’ve done on the crook of your fist alone in your room.

He looks up at you, all flustered and pretty, swiping his thumb across your glistening lip. He doesn’t know what’s come over him when he says, “If you wish to explore this further, I can offer my… expertise.” What he wants to say is that he’s been thinking about this too many times to count, leaving him flustered and pretty countless times before, but he doesn’t want to scare you away. So he just keeps looking at you expectantly, willing his mouth to shut.

“I would like that,” you mutter shyly, noticing how Viktor’s chest sags with relief. To think that he was there, willing and within your reach all this time makes you feel silly for all those times you stared at Jayce and Mel longingly. And you’re convinced you’ll continue to watch them—not with longing, but with anticipation for when they finally stroll off to their date, so you can sink your lips onto Viktor’s.

[cwgl418]

My mother taught me English on her own until I was 6. We used an English learning program called: “World Family”. It was an interesting program. Filled with songs, videos, and colorful textbooks to learn from.

Each of them had different levels. And if I pass the test, I could move on to a different level and I’ll receive a cap as an reward.

My mother told me, “We were learning English very optimistically when you were a toddler.” But I don't have any memories about that. The only thing I remember, is that she would yell at me, constantly.

Why? Because I couldn't remember the meaning of a word.

She would yell at me for the smallest things, I feel like her yelling could be heard for all of the neighborhood. And when she gets extremely mad, she would lock herself up in her room. I would cry and write an apology letter to her.

She would never hit me, she never did. Because she thought it was cruel and wrong. But what made this abuse worse was when she told me “That's enough, I'm going to move to New York and leave you.”

I knew my mother loved New York. It was her obsession. But she would never actually leave me, right?

Until I couldn't find her.

I panicked. I thought to myself, “Did she actually leave me? Is she really gone?” I searched for my mother, but she was nowhere to be seen.

So I took my grandmother into the night, being piggybacked by her, and searched for my mother.

I did find her eventually, I suppose she was just in somewhere in the house and I just happened to missed her presence.

Nobody remembers this. Not my grandmother, not even my mother. They think I made it up. I'm the only one who remembers.

Do I like English? I used to think I do. Because that's what I excel at. I even majored in English. But the truth is, I don't. It’s just my way to communicate.

Then why did I continued to learn English, you say? Because I was a fighter. I didn't wanted to just quit. My mother used to yell at me, “Then why don't you just quit?!” when I said, “I don't like this!”. But then I’ would yell back at her and reply, “No! I WANT to continue!” and that's why I didn't quit.

I graduated this program when I was 6 years old.

My mother wrote on the graduation paper magazine, that “They had moments when they cried and tried to quit, but they managed.” or something alongside that.

It's gone now, but I vividly remember reading that. That was my only evidence for my child abuse.

The thing is that, I was so proud of my English level. I was constantly being praised by my classmates and my teachers. I thought no one, no one could beat me with my English. Even the students who lived abroad would ask me, “Have you ever lived abroad?”

And oh, I loved that moment so much. I felt like I was the superior one.

However, I was such an anxious, shy child. I was always alone. I tried and make friends and have a conversation through my art. But I was always so anxious. When my teachers told me to make a pair or a group, I always ended up being alone. And then I would feel so guilty and think, “Oh no, I've intruded them. I know they don't want me in their group…”

But the moment when someone praises me for my art and English, I felt so proud, it almost felt like my personality completely changes when it came to something I excel at. Looking back, I was being so narcissistic. Maybe not as extreme as Narcisstic Personality disorder, but my narcissism was definitely there.

I wonder, how could these two personalities co-exist? But they did for so so long.

One day, in my adulthood, my mother told me, “The reason why I wanted to teach you English was because I had an English complex. I pushed my dreams onto you, and I'm sorry.” I didn't accepted her apology.

Do I hate her? Yes. But do I love her? Also yes.

I don't understand why I feel this way. My love and hate relationship of her is so so complicated.

At one hand, I don't forgive her for what she made me face. But then, I don't even dream about it or have nightmares about it. I barely remember my childhood. So does it even count as trauma? Does it count as abuse? I would constantly think and wonder.

And then there's part of me, that I'm obsessed with her. I would kiss her on the cheeks and hug her every single day. I would even age regress when I'm around her. I wonder if it's some form of trauma response.

I did read a similar experience in “My Lesbian Experience in Loneliness” by Nagata Kabi though.

I'm disabled and mentally ill. I have autism, OCD, Social Anxiety, insomnia, and Bipolar II disorder. I do wonder time to time it is the result of my abuse.

My mother is so overprotective about me because of that. She always try and do stuff for me since she loves to be in charge, but I feel like she overdid a lot. And the lack of experience makes me feel anxious when I try something new and legal, because I don't know how to act and where to start.

But on the other hand, I do feel like I'm safe with her and I’d rather stay with her and make her do everything for me since I don't even know what to do on my own.

Part of me is saying, “Lilith, you should leave her and try and live on your own and prepare to live without a family.” but the other part is saying that “No, Lilith. You need to keep depending on her. You don't even know what to do on your own. And what about your precious stuff? There wouldn't be any space.” My mind is conflicted.

I feel like I'm obsessed with my mother too much. But I do hate her for what she's done. And I do hate her some times how she tries and brush off her past abuse to me. So why do I keep staying with her? Why am I so obsessed with her? Why can't I be independent?

So I ask myself again, “Why do I hate and love my mother?”

I will never not know.

[theheartcollecter]

GHOUL

Fem!Reader x Monster!141

Chapter 4: Dain

Warnings: none (lmk if I missed any)

A/n: I don’t have a scheduled posting time but expect a new chapter every week!

“Quite the show you put on ova’ there.” I turn my head to see Simon walking along side me in the halls. Black hoodie, worn jeans, a pair of sneakers, and, of course: his mask. Simon hasn’t talked to me much these past days so I try to cherish every moment with the hulking wraith.

I let a smile ghost over my lips, “Thanks. Hope I didn’t scare you away.” Simon’s eyes find mine. “Scare me away? You’d ‘ave t’ do much worse.” His words are so true it stuns me for a moment, i turn my gaze towards the floor as the two of us keep walking to the barracks. The emotions welling up inside me are banging at my heart to be let out, to express every thought that has ever crossed my mind about the men who saved my life. They weren’t perfect, sure, but they were enough. Enough for me. I had seen how they lingered close to one another, small touches here and there that give away their closeness. I would if I could squeeze in; if I too could receive small touches from them.

Simon is quiet the rest of the way, he opens the door for me when we get to the barracks. “Gaz made some biscuits earlier. Want some?” I shake my head. “Who’s Gaz?” I mutter as Simon opens a container filled with chocolate chip cookies in the kitchen. “Kyle,” Simon says between bites of the sugary dessert, “Gaz is his code name.” I hum, “Humans foods taste like ash to Ghouls. I guess you weren’t aware.” I explain as I sit down on a stool in front the kitchen island and lean my chin on my palm. Simon grunts in acknowledgment, finishing the rest of his cookie. “How long have you been working with the Task Force?” I question. Simon comes around the other side of the island, leaning his back onto it. He crosses his arms, with his sleeves no rolled up I can see his muscles bulging under his ombre arms. I must have been staring the way Simon looks at me, almost predatory. A lamb in a wolf’s den, although I am certainly not as helpless as a lamb, I proved that much this morning. “Almost ma whole life. How long you been a Ghoul?” I sigh, “Its all a bit blurry now, but two or three months.”

Ghouls lose almost all memory of their human lives after being turned. I remember my parents and some close friends but other than that I couldn’t tell anyone what my routine was or where I went to school. “I know what it’s like.” Simons says, his voice snaps me out of my sulking. “To feel different, like a monster.” I stare up at him with a deeper emotion: appreciation. I didn’t know how much I needed to hear those words come from someone. I’ve ate so many Ghouls sometimes I do wonder if I’m even a Ghoul anymore. Maybe I’ve turned into some mutation, an outcast who belongs to no group or family, with no friends or companions. Simons hand caresses my shoulder, “Don’t ‘ave to feel that way, me and the boys got you now.” I touch his hand to make sure it’s real. The feeling of belonging to something, someone. “Thank you.” I say it so quietly I’m not sure if he even heard me, but a nod from him reassures me. “Go get cleaned up, you stink from training.” I chuckle a little before rolling my eyes and getting up. With one last glance towards Simon, I head to my room.

I strip myself in the bathroom, there are no scars on my body, but the memories still remain. My milky hair, crimson eyes and unusually sharp canines. Stepping into the shower, the warm water runs over my body. I scrub floral scented shampoo in my hair, and then soap on my body.

When I get out I change into some sweatpants and a plain t-shirt. Opening my door and walking down the hall I’m greeted by the boys sitting at the dinning room table discussing something. “Ah, Bonnie. Come sit down.” Johnny pats a chair next to him. I sit, looking at the papers on the table. A couple unrecognizable faces, but one stands out. Red eyes and blue hair, unmistakably a Ghoul I knew. “Ya know ‘im?” Kyle asks. “Yes.” I respond, but my eyes are still trained on the Ghouls face. John grunts, “We’ve got a new mission, hoping you could help us. These men ‘ave been using this Ghoul, it’s gotten outta hand.” I meet his eyes, “Who is he, sweetheart?” “I used to be friends with him when I first turned…but something changed, and he led me to the Ghoul you saved me from.” I bite the inside of my lip. It feels vulnerable to admit this, almost embarrassing that I’d be so dumb to trust him. Him. Dain. He was kind at first, showed me how to use my Kagune and hunt properly. But then..he got involved with a bad bunch.

Johnny clasps my hand, his blue orbs staring into my vermillion ones. “Ya don’t have ‘t do it,” his voice is soft, like he’s speaking to a lover. “Ya can say no.” My lips part, then close again. I look at the others, none of them say anything in rebuttal to Johnny’s statement. “No, I can do it. What do I need to do?” I look at John, my hand still holding Johnny’s on the table. “Kill him?” John sighs, “If that’s what has t’ happen, then, yes. But if ya can get ‘im away from the others, then keep ‘im alive.”

The boys talk some more as afternoon turns into night, they finally get up to head to the mess for dinner. “Want anythin’ love?” Kyle asks, I shake my head. He smiles at me. God, it’s like the sun shining. “Did Cap’ tell you that’s my shirt?” My face contorts in confusion, “Oh, it is?” I look down at the shirt and now I realize it’s a couple sizes too big. Kyle laughs, “Ya look cute in it.” He winks and leaves out the barracks with the others. My face feels hot, I look down at my sock-clad feet and let a dumb smile cross my face.

Taglist: @sleepisfortheweakpooh @sugarrush-blush @caffieneaddictt18 (lmk if you want to be added or removed)

[agirlandherquill]

a little update straight from freshly dried ink

goodness me it's been a long time since i've been on writeblr - since early January I believe, and yes, it has been a long time, but I can tell you all now, with a great, big, stupidly wide smile on my face - that my time has been spent on important things, i've not just forgotten about Tumblr and let my blog go to waste (hell would freeze over before I ever let that happen),

my past month has been spent on things i couldn't update anybody about until they were done - and i can finally tell the wonderful world of writeblr that ruin's reprisal is done! final proofreads are complete (yes it did take me a long, long time to get through, but hey, juggling writing and life - especially at the start of semester 2 at uni - is an impressive skill i've been working on ever since I first found myself trying to write and I'm still learning the balance, even after years in the making) and i've got a fully finished off draft, if i can even call it that anymore, sitting in my files, and it's a day I never did think I'd get to, not considering this book has been around four years in the making, but I did it! it's done!

and another little update - truths, my little story I started on the 1st day of the year, ended up being around 3/4 complete by the end of January, which I'm very shocked about - I never thought I'd have it in me to create this story so quickly, and now that the week I took off writing it to focus solely on proofreading ruin's reprisal has finally paid off, I can get back to it! and i truly cannot wait to share more of truths and a few other things I have in store (which I'm not sharing quite yet, dear reader, you'll have to wait, but not for long, I give you my word)

but, to focus on the main point to this post - ruin's reprisal is done, which means... (insert drumroll if you will) i get to move onto the very final, polishing details - coming up with a blurb (the BANE of my existence), and more exciting things too! such as announcing a release date (soon, but tbd. ((deadlines be forgiving))) and creating a cover! (which I am both very much looking forward to and am equally terrified about) but for now, I can leave you all with a few stats about the book! Ruin's Reprisal is composed of 220,354 words, 566 pages, and 42 chapters (plus a bonus one i'm very excited about including since it's a glimpse at another character's pov during a very crucial scene - you'll understand come release, trust me :)) and who knows, there may be a little game full of teasers up my sleeve, we shall see, but for now, thank you for being a part of this journey and keeping my writing going writeblr, it means more than I could ever say to do it justice - keep writing and i'll speak to you all soon! ~ A Girl and Her Quill

~ ~ ~

now for the tag list!

(p.s if you'd like to be included/notified too, interact with this post :) p.p.s im finally getting around to updating it, so bear with me :))

@humbly-a-doppelganger @imawholeassmood @frostedlemonwriter @yrndrgn @abditorywriting

@riveriafalll @lead-to-code @casualsuitturtle @floweryprosegarden @joeys-piano

@catwingsathena @godsmostfuckedupgoblin @nothoughtsjustmhaandotherthings @anaisbebe

@drchenquill @leahnardo-da-veggie @tiredpapergirl @pastelpinkhobbies @a-mimsy-borogove @the-letterbox-archives @corinneglass @darkluminosity @kuebiko-writing

[fandomfairyuniverse]

Poor ongsa was probably so worried about her new friends who she’s so excited and happy about would think she was weird for liking sun and then charoen was just like “don’t worry we’re all queer here” I love this so much

[sainz100]

2024 Hungarian GP | x (edited)

[myokk]

“She’s tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me”😤😤😤

(Regency AU with Eloise and Sebastian inspired by my slow trek through Bridgerton these days & @bassicallymaestra ‘s AMAZING regency inspired art😮‍💨😇🙏)

[suddencolds]

.~

[roaringroa]

they should make a life where you don't have appointments, work, school and scheduled events every single day for months on end

[seventh-district]

not even gonna tag this properly bc i don't wanna get Involved but i do have some Thoughts i need to get out into the void so here we go

(aaa quick edit: CW for mention/discussion of Boothill leaks)

[talkorsomething]

I have Got to get more transgender

[deoidesign]

happy birthday! I just wanted to let you know that I came across this account after seeing this sick horror piece of old time churches, decinding to follow the page, and then realising that it was the same artist who'd written that sick comic on time travelling werewolves and vampires which I'd lost. and they're both t4t too ! effervescent

thank you!

Honestly it is an extremely unfamiliar reality that someone could know me from multiple different things... Not sure what to do with that but I'm glad to have impacted you in small ways and I hope to continue to do so! So thanks for being here, I'm glad that fate brought us back together haha

[blueflyingturtleontheway]

So, I've heard some voices here and there lamenting how little Gabe content - especially new Gabe content - there was and you know what? I completely agree, so I thought why not, I can try to add my little droplet into this tiny sea of Gabe appreciation we have here on tumblr.

Summary: Elena visits Gabe in his house for the first time and learns something new about his past.

Word count: 1937

AN: just some friendly fluff really, headcanon heavy, from Elena's POV but Gabe centric

"Oh, watch out, the first step is-" Gabe turned around just in time to catch Elena when she started to fall backwards. "-loose."

"Thanks for the warning." Elena shot him a glare when she regained her balance. In response Gabe only sent her an unapologetic grin and pulled her up on the next step.

"Everyone's so used to it by now that we keep forgetting to fix it with my dad," he explained as they finally reached the first floor.

The stairs led to a narrow corridor, with the same room placement as the bakery beneath it. Two doors on the right, one on the left and a wide opening to the living room at the end. In a few brisk steps Gabe opened the door on the left and invited Elena in with a courteous gesture.

"Welcome to my humble abode, your highness."

Her highness graced him with a nod and slipped by him, into the small room. Elena gave it a quick one over. It was indeed small - in fact, there probably wasn't much more space than what each guard got at the barracks - and the decor wasn't much fancier either. Cream colored walls, a thin bed by the window, a wardrobe opposite of it, one wall taken up by a bookshelf and a small cabinet by another made up basically all the furnishing of the room.

"Humble is a good word." She nodded solemnly, earning herself an eye roll from her friend. They both chuckled.

"Hey, it's your room that's out of the norm, you know?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Elena retorted, thinking about how three or even four such rooms would fit into hers. She walked over to the cabinet and picked up some trinket. "But it's nice to finally see where you grew up."

Gabe couldn't stop a fond smile sneaking onto his lips when he noticed the badge she was examining.

"Yeah and I didn't really get to change much here in the past five years. For example this thing I got back when-"

"Gabriel!" He was interrupted by his mother's voice from the bakery.

"I'll tell you in a moment," he sighed. "Make yourself at home!" He added from the doors and quickly ran downstairs to his parents.

Elena took another look around the room. It wasn't entirely empty, she had to admit that, and the poster of Antonio Agama on the inner side of the door confirmed that Gabe didn't change the decor much since he moved out.

She moved to the bookshelf and moved her hand across the titles - though there weren't that many of them to count. The lower shelves were taken up by some boxes and bags and what could've been a neatly packaged tent. Then finally a whole shelf dedicated to the whole collection of Antonio Agama's books. Elena chuckled to herself when she read some of the more dramatic titles and noticed even one that wasn't in Avaloran. On the next shelf, between other various travel books and biographies, was only one book by señor Agama, titled simply 'The Gecko's Tale'. Driven by a hunch she took it out and couldn't help but laugh when she read the blurb on the back. Although that explained how the whole kingdom found out that she's a bit adventurous too.

Finally her gaze got to the plant on top of the mantle. Hidden so deep in the room, it extended its ivy like stalks towards the sun, climbing a string helpfully hung between the bookshelf and the window.

Down on the windowsill two other plants looked out on the little cobbled square behind the house. Elena leaned in to smell the orchid and noticed something half hidden behind the pot. Slowly, so as not to accidentally damage the plant, she reached for trinket and retrieved it into the light. It turned out to be a wooden doll, painted to resemble a familiar navy and maroon uniform...

"Is this you?" She turned to Gabe as soon as he entered the room and showed him the figurine with a wide smile.

Gabe stopped for a moment. Furrowed his brows as he tried to see what Elena was even holding, and then furrowed his brows even more when he recognised it.

"Of course not," he grumbled, closing the small distance between them. "It's just an old thing anyway."

"It does look a bit like you though." She jumped away from him at the last moment.

Gabe gasped. Elen giggled and moved her hand away when he tried to reach her.

"Why would I even have a figurine of myself?"

For a moment they circled each other, like two lions judging if it's worthy to fight the opponent for a steak, except the steak was now wooden and 15 centimetres high. They both hunched subconsciously and made their steps in the fencing manner.

"I don't know, why does Esteban have a whole wall of his own portraits?" A sly grin slid on her face. "But I see you've decided to match his collection."

"Oh now you've done it." Gabe shook his head to hide his smile and in the split of a second was right by her. Feigning to go right for the prize, he swiped her legs out from under her.

Elena waved her hands in the air giving Gabe just the opportunity he was waiting for. He swiftly yanked the figurine from her hands, giving her the last push to fall backwards completely. He turned his head with a victorious grin, just in time to see her legs rising at the height of his knees. And suddenly the ground was much closer than before.

He folded his arms to his chest, protecting the figurine with his body and rolled on the floor. Though he didn't have to roll far, of which he was promptly reminded by his head crushing into the cupboard.

He groaned loudly and let his body fall limply to the floor.

His pained complaint was answered by Elena's laughter from the bed.

"I'm getting too old for this," he mumbled and Elena's laughter only got louder.

Finally he sat up and lifted the figurine to his face. He carefully examined it for any cracks or splinters, checked if the joints in the limbs didn't fall out and most importantly if the head was still on firm. Finally when he made sure the trinket didn't get damaged, he let out a relieved sigh.

"You're lucky it's still whole," he grumbled, rising to his feet.

"Hey, I was being careful." Elena now sat up too and sent him a playful smirk. "All the way until you decided to trip me like that."

Gabe rolled his eyes again and huffed in pretended annoyance.

"So if it's not a limited edition General Nuñez action figure," Elena continued. "What is it?"

Gabe sat down next to her and thought of an answer for a moment. He changed the position of the little soldier's arms and reached for a pin to put into his hand as a sword.

"It's really just an old toy," he said finally. "But you know, it has sentimental value."

He finally passed Elena the figurine, so she could take a look at it herself. It wasn't as old as she thought at first. The paint was faded, but still held onto the uneven surface of the wood and as she moved her fingers across it, she realized that it must've been all whittled by hand, by someone who put great care in it, but wasn't a professional.

Still the amount of details was impressive, especially in the construction of the thing. She moved the tiny soldier into the proper fencing position and to her delight found out that it fits flawlessly, the wire on the joints creaked quietly, as if it had been waiting for an opportunity to shine for ages.

She glanced between the figurine and Gabe on her left for comparison. The uniform, despite the familiar colours, was a tad different, it resembles more what she remembered from her childhood, than the uniform Gabe was wearing at the moment.

"I got it from my first fencing teacher," he continued.

"The same one who threw coconuts at you driving training?" Elena raised a brow, earning herself a chuckle.

"Yeah, the same one." A sad smile reached the corners of his eyes as old memories resurfaced in his memory. "He was a tough man and always talked about how big an annoyance I am, but -" he gestured to the figurine and shrugged.

"Well, that explains why it looks like you," Elena bumped him with her shoulder. "I'm sure he could've already seen that you'll be a great guard."

"Oh, I don't think he even wanted me to be a guard," Gabe laughed again. "But you know, the situation was a bit different." He pondered something for a moment before continuing. "And to be fair, I didn't even realize that it was supposed to be a guard at the time, I was pretty sure he just came up with the design by himself. I only really connected the dots a few years ago, when I found this old thing again."

Elena nodded silently and put a comforting hand on his arm. She could see that this topic wasn't easy for him.

"Though maybe what you said was the point." He straightened suddenly and his gaze went back to the figurine. "Maybe he wasn't completely against me joining the guard, just... joining the right one."

His smile became wider and it was like his whole face lit up. Elena raised the little soldier's arms to make it cheer. They both laughed at how expressive this piece of wood was.

"So where is your coach now?" Elena asked, caressing the wooden toy one more time.

He only sighed at first and for a moment his gaze became clouded again, before he shook his head to cast the memories away.

"I wish I knew," he sent her a sad smile. "One day he just... disappeared. A few trinkets and one letter is all the proof I have that he wasn't just my hallucination."

Elena's lips twitched in a matching sad smile, but before she could say anything, they both heard a voice from downstairs, calling the unmistakable word 'dinner!'

Gabe clapped his hands on his knees and sprung up to his feet.

"Ah, just in time", he extended his hand to Elena. "I think eating is a much more fun topic than discussing the weird things I did in my childhood."

Elena examined his face for a moment more, but gave up on asking all the questions that pushed to the tip of her tongue. She sent him a smile instead and accepted his hand.

"Oh, you mean you did more weird things?" She made the little figurine gasp.

"I feel like I shouldn't have started this topic," Gabe laughed.

"Oh no, you won't escape now." She poked him in the chest and put the little soldier in his hand. "I gotta know all the crazy stories."

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you something," Gabe raised his hands in defeat. "But you can't mention it to my parents, please, they'll never stop until they tell you my whole life story."

Elena made a theatrical gesture of tapping her lips in thought as she backed out of the room.

"I'll consider it," she sent him a wide grin and in a second turned and ran towards the stairs.

"Hey- wait!" Gabe called out, running right after her to save what was left of his reputation.

[sysig]

Anyway, back to testing (Patreon)

[kavehayati]

I’ll never understand younger siblings whining about their older siblings moving away like I bet yall were nasty and annoying too like wow all those years and you claim to adore the older sibling and post oh woe is me the older sibling abandoned me … girl … the older sibling didn’t have a parental certificate or anything.