#@thelaughingstag

[alicewhitesblog]

Short Story by © Alice White

Claire Steading, placed her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath, while out walking her Jack Russell Terrier, Buster.

He had suddenly caught sight of a rabbit and immediately gave chase. Claire went running after both animals and watched as they darted through a hole in a chain-link fence that surrounded the half derelict Hallowmas Hall.

Claire managed to scramble up and over the nine-foot wire fence but lagged way behind in her pursuit of her dog.

“Come back boy! Look what mummy has got?” Eventually standing up waving in the air a small dog biscuit in the shape of a bone, hoping the scent of beef essence would carry.

Standing ankle deep in last summer dead vegetation, Claire couldn’t help but stare up at the hall. The place had once belonged to the famous author and now convicted mass murderer, Alastair Croxley. Unbeknown to his publisher and worldwide fans, Croxley would lure women back to the hall and after killing them, immortalise his deeds in fiction.

Claire, shivered has a gust of wind blew around the side of the hall animating the pile of dead leaves at her feet. She was about to call out for Buster again when she heard his bark echoing from within the hall.

Fearing that Buster may be trapped, she bounding up the stone steps to the front door. Inside, the hall was damp and bleak. Drapes hung awkward still attached to their collapsed curtain poles. Claire then screamed at seeing a family of mice scurry out from a hole in the wall.

Buster resumed his barking somewhere within the hall.

Eventually she found him in a large empty room, standing at the far wall scratching at the peeling wallpaper. Seeing that he was OK, she grabbed his collar and attached his lead.

“Come away!” she commanded. But Buster was reluctant to leave. Instead, he kept snarling and growling demanding to finish the tearing of the wallpaper.

Claire wanted out of the hall, but seeing that something was agitating her dog, she decided to stay and find out. Claire tied Buster to a door handle and went back to see why he was scratching at the wall.

Bending down, Claire saw that beneath the wallpaper was what looked like the edge of another door! She tore away more of the wallpaper to reveal that there was indeed a concealed entrance. Once she had peeled back the remaining paper, she placed her hand on the door knob, turned it, and went into the secret room.

Stale air escaped from the room sounding as if exhaling its final breath. The sudden gust spooked Buster, tugging himself free he ran out of the room and out of the hall. Claire was now too intrigued to go chasing after him.

Surprisingly, the room, which she concluded must be a study, was rather tidy, albeit covered in dust. There was a full bookcase running the entire length of the wall. A standard lamp, an armchair and an oak desk. To Claire’s amazement on top of which was a ‘Royal’ typewriter.

Claire looked down on what must have been the original typewriter that Croxley used. Her mind was too occupied to notice that the study door she originally came through, was starting to close, trapping her inside.

Then quite unexpectedly, the typewriter keys sprung into life making her jump and heart thump as the keys hammering out a message. When the typing had stopped she went, with some caution, over to the typewriter. Just two words were typed on the single sheet of paper. Two words that made her fall back against the desk.

‘Hello Claire.'

[thelaughingstag]

I would like to start off with a heartfelt apology. I have a habit of doing things ‘all or nothing’. I start off doing it all then get overwhelmed and do nothing. Well… not entirely nothing. During my absence I finished my masters degree, got a job in my field, and recently received a promotion. I participated and, for the first time, completed NaNoWriMo. Writing made me miss the community so here I am.

I promise I never truly forgot about you all, I have been seeing notifications for all of your work for the past several years and I’ve been quietly cheering you all on. I finally feel I have the space to give others the support that I had needed for myself. I hope you all have been well! Keep tagging the Stag and I’ll work through all of the posts I’ve been missing.

~Hin

[ink-flavored]

i caught a glimpse of someone in the mirror today waiting for my t-gel to dry shirtless and smooth with a thin rope necklace a single butterfly ring as a charm hair bleached on one side of its freshly cut shape breasts bound to the chest with skin-colored tape old sweatpants with ancient elastic, sagging at the hips, letting the boxers sneak out a notch that had a stuffed pouch in the crotch yes, this person is almost myself a wo/man i almost recognize despite his imperfections, i took a picture of her because i know how quickly time flies

                                       – mirror mirror

Poetry Taglist: @elegant-paper-collection​ @polyphonetic @qelizhus @livums @auroblaze @stardustanddaffodils  @thelaughingstag @ceph-the-ghost-writer @auntdarth @srjacksin @alesseia @maxdamaz

[ettawritesnstudies]

don't curse me for doing a marketing i know you're all using these artists on your DND and OC playlists too 🫵

Learn more about Runaways Here!

Or if you already follow runaways, here's a sneak peek at some of the artists and songs I'll be sharing on the playlist this Friday! You might even find some new favorite artists this way, who knows?

Taglist: ask to be added or removed!

@tiredlittleoldme @abalonetea @happyorogeny @weaver-of-fantasies-and-fables @quilloftheclouds @rainydaydarling @bladeverbenas-blog @andifthestarsweretodie @thelaughingstag @ladywithalamp @avrablake @prettylittlelyres @rainbowsnowflakee @theroseempress

[illarian-rambling]

So, expressions can be hard to draw. Especially when the character you're drawing has two eyesockets, five inhuman headfins, and that's it. In order to get around that, I did some expressions practice for Elsind <3

Irritated might be my favorite, I love that side eye without eyes. For rage, a common changeling fight or flight response is to make yourself as big and scary as possible to deter people from messing with you, so, uh, maybe no surprise birthday parties for Elsind unless you wanna see Cthullu in miniature. Hollow is the only one taken from an actual scene (for those wondering, that hand is Thibault's), and they look very upset in drunk because Elsind has a bad history with alcohol.

But what have I learned? Well, changeling expressions are quite different from ours, obviously, but there's a few "rules" you can pick up on

Headfin tips pointed out = happy

Headfin tips pointed in = upset

Further the headfins are flared out = more energetic emotion

Pointy protrusions are mostly for anger and fear

In addition, Elsind uses their middle headfins a lot like eyebrows, however, this isn't a natural changeling inclination. Elsind has been socialized around elves their whole life, so that's where they picked it up. A changeling raised only around changelings likely wouldn't do that.

Anyways, this was really fun for me, I hope you enjoy it as well <3

@amandacanwrite @elsie-writes @riveriafalll @kosmic-kore @kaylinalexanderbooks

@bard-coded @carrotsinnovember @patternwelded-quill @somethingclevermahogony @whatwewrotepodcast

@the-angriest-author @mk-writes-stuff @frostedlemonwriter @vyuntspakhkite-l-darling @watermeezer

@leahnardo-da-veggie @mr-orion @televisionjester @ray-writes-n-shit @evilgabe29

@trippingpossum @tragedycoded @halfbakedspuds @ominous-feychild @cain-e-brookman

@wyked-ao3 @thecomfywriter @mysticstarlightduck @rumeysawrites @the-golden-comet

@cowboybrunch @gioiaalbanoart @theink-stainedfolk @sableglass @thelaughingstag

@finickyfelix

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

It's time for the Comic Sans intro

I'm very late with this, dare I say... fashionably late??

Well, anyway, here it is:

Taglist: @eatinghemlocks, @foxgloves-garden, @sarandipitywrites, @northwyrm, @trixierosewrites,

@walkman-cat, @asher-writes, @seastarblue, @aloeverawrites, @firesidefantasy

@tracle0, @thelaughingstag, @ravenekrops, @frantheram, @cacophonyofwords

@incandescent-creativity

Do let me know if you want to be +/- to the taglist!

[gaslightwestern]

Hell's Half Acre

Charlotte would be the first to admit hiding from the law behind a newspaper was an awful idea, what with her face and name spread across the front page.

When death comes to Fort Worth and strikes her new circle of friends, Charlotte O’Shea resolves to hunt down the culprit before they kill again. Murder isn’t the only mystery in the air however. Elijah Addison and Thomas Quinn, two headstrong cowboys and her partners-in-crime-solving, are determined to uncover what made the socialite run away from New York and why she is no stranger to firearms.

— Status: Zero Drafting (Excerpts) | Tag: #Hell's Half Acre — Genres: Historical Mystery, Western, Romance — Setting: Fort Worth, Texas & New York City (1870s). — POV: Multiple. 3rd Person. Past Tense. Dual Timeline.

Themes and Tropes: Love in all its forms. Anti-heroine. Found family. Being your own person. Organized crime. Queer cowboys. If it isn't the consequences of my own actions. Parallels. Obsession. Haunted by the past. Murder, mayhem, and other wild west shenanigans.

Cast of Characters

Can't a man visit his on-and-off-again boyfriend without all hell breaking loose? Not for Elijah Addison, a restless cowboy turned shrewd detective who becomes relentless in his pursuit of justice.

By his side is Thomas Quinn, who most write off as little more than a legend's son. Stubborn as anything and fiercely protective of his family and friends, he doesn't trust Charlotte in the slightest.

Captain Samuel Quinn is a three-time, war-hating, disabled veteran with a larger-than-life personality. A lifelong troublemaker, when he isn't sticking his nose where he shouldn't, Sam runs Quinn's Firearms.

A seamstress and aspiring journalist, Mabel Williams is determined to expose the rot in New York City regardless of the enemies she gains along the way. Her talent for disguises often comes in handy.

Having grown up in the shadow of his brother, not being good enough has long haunted Warren Howard. But if life will not give him what he wants, he will take it for himself regardless of the cost.

Vivacious and self-absorbed, Charlotte O'Shea enjoys her place in New York's high society. Surrounded by friends and engaged to the wealthy Nathaniel Howard, her life is perfect. So why is Charlotte out west pretending to be someone she's not?

Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist: @cirianne, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary, @oliolioxenfreewrites, @thelaughingstag, @shouldyouwakethewriteblr, @mauvecatfic

[jev-urisk]

Hey, I'm Jev U'Risk ✌️

This is my Writblr.

Im always looking for new blogs to follow so please reach out~

Who is this guy?

'Round 30yo, chronic-overwhelm Autistic goblin, They/Them/He.

Drag artist who tells stories on stage through drag. When covid hit I moved it online and mingled with OC cosplayers, accidentally fell in love with an OC... became a writer to woo it's cosplayer. It worked and now I'm 100k+ words deep and looking for engagement rings.

I'm Genderqueer/Trans/Intersex, Mixed-Race, Pansexual, Poly-Fidelitous (spoiled hinge of a thrupple), Ambidexterous- basically the universe said I can never have things just one way. 🤷

Jev's Genres?

Jevres?

Generally urban fantasy queer romance/smut adventures with mystery and horror undertones.

I dm dnd sometimes and the worldbuilding culture-creating itch has infected my writing. 🤓

I love subversion and fucking up stereotypes.

I write with my dick 😏(My dick hates capitalism, btw)

Mostly, I write 🌐7 Circles🌐:

Story about 7 Circles of Demons who have taken over as the ruling class and four main characters trapped in their society. They do stuff like get captured, spy on the gov't/get spied on, have lots of gay sex, and find out what really happened to the humans who used to rule the world.

🌐Themes🌐:

Unjust legal systems, trauma recovery and self growth, found family and community, hope vs. complacency, climate awareness vs profit, anti-capitalism, navigating being mix-race, LGBTQIA+ themes, lust vs love, enemies or lovers, and the general vibe of a USAmerican scared of what the USA is becoming and trying to escape and cathart at the same time. 🫠

✨️More on 7 Circles here!✨️

Things to do w/Jev!

Say Hi! Ask a thing! Shake me a little (gentle, like egg)! 🐣

I'm hungry for tag games, asks, and general mutual support- even if I don't get to all of them, they delight me nonetheless. 🥰

I go absolutely feral for fanart. Like balls-fucking-ballistic. 👁👁❤️‍🔥

If the topic you're writing about is something I am (ex. you're writing a thrupple and have not been in one), I'm so down for (polite) questions to help you out with that! 😁

Gifs of frogs..... send gifs of frogs.....

Please feel free to say hi in the comments!

I'm super stoked to meet new folks 🫶✨️

OF COURSE i FORGOT TO TAG THE HOMIES:

@gioiaalbanoart @biblicallyaccuratefruitbat @lychhiker-writes @autism-purgatory @wyked-ao3

@cowboybrunch @zackprincebooks @smellyrottentrees @tragedycoded @aalinaaaaaa

@the-golden-comet @quillswriting @nbkuhn @asablehart @desastreus

@theglitchywriterboi @shanakin-skywalker @honeybewrites @sincerelydorky @the-letterbox-archives

@thelaughingstag

[saturnine-saturneight]

Traffic roared behind their back, swirling up the stench of gasoline, leather, and fresh bread. Any way Johannes could have spun this, there was only one place left to go. But unfortunately for them, despite the opening hours clearly written on the sign behind the glass door, the place disagreed. Half an hour past ten, the door to Ms. Somoza's office was firmly shut. Handle of their suitcase digging into the palm of their hand and this morning's pit of ragged disappointment deep in their stomach, Johannes leaned their forehead against the cool glass of the front door and heaved a sigh. Of course it couldn't be that easy. Of course. But perhaps at least the hole in their stomach could be filled, preferably with meat and bread. Never had they spent very much time in parts of the city that featured kebab shops, and even back home, before the big move, they had rarely ever seen one face to face. But they were still a piece of the country they left behind, a part of the daily parlance, and where Johannes had never so much as given it a second thought that they'd never eaten a doner kebab until now, now that they were standing in front of the eatery right next to Ms. Somoza's office, they suddenly found that an enormous pity. After fumbling their way through an order, they found themself with an absolutely gigantic Styrofoam box, heavy with bread, meat, and salad, practically dripping with sauce and large enough that they had to clench their suitcase beneath their arm and hold it with both hands. It was terribly delicious.

This has been an advertisement for doner kebab.

HELLO Particle Decay tag list, it's been half a year!

@gioia-writes-and-others @monstrify @writingrosesonneptune @asher-writes

@marlowethelibrarian @cometkov @the-inkwell-variable @purplehandshumanfeelings @thelaughingstag

[alistonjdrake]

A Woman of No Importance: The Two Deaths of Mathilde van Bibbr

Princess Mathilde van Bibbr was born in 894 W.C and was executed in the spring of 946 W.C on the orders of King Oswald of Vilsland after launching a rebellion to install her husband on the throne instead.

Her death did not cease when the executioner cut through her neck. Her second death had just begun and lasted much longer. In the words of historian Sabina Spahr, "a great woman had to suffer two deaths. The first of her mortal body, and the second of her reputation. Queens of the Early Ages have been disgraced in ways not seen by their male counterparts. We debate the truth behind rumors of their infidelities, even when no proof exists and the claims are ludicrous bawdy tales dreamt up by men who were emasculated by their power. We consume stories of heartless mothers who sent princes to death to hold onto a chair for a moment longer, the all-consuming selfish leading lady who dines on luxuries while the country starves, the black widow. What lies underneath? Yes, the hatred and valid criticisms of monarchs and the power they held by a matter of birth, the inherent unfairness of such wealth being drenched in the quiet suffering of those who could not write their side of history. But also the seductive hatred of women."

Mathilde dying is a big part of the story and is symbolic of how the historians writing them treat all the "historical" characters and how ultimately none of them are around to speak for themselves. They're already dead. Who she was and why she did what she did fades behind biases and imagined motives.

The Early Ages was a fraught time for a budding country, and no one knows that better than historian Sabina Sphar, whose deep dive into one long-gone country leads to an obsession with two women held responsible for its downfall. The year is 946 W.C. and King Oswald of Vilsland has just ordered the execution of his once beloved aunt, Princess Mathilde. Now wanted for treason, Princess Mathilde seeks refuge in her childhood home, currently occupied by a woman who holds a powerful grudge. Twenty years ago, Cierra Dimmock and Princess Mathilde were rivals in the midst of a bloody game of intrigue and court manners. One was a standing regent struggling to keep her grasp on the court and the other the new, foreign wife of a prominent duke. Their feud resulted in one being jailed and the other humiliated. Now, the tables have turned and Cierra is a wealthy widow and Dowager Duchess while Princess Mathilde is an exile looking for political asylum. In a moment of pity, Cierra allows her old enemy to spend the night in her home. Their fates will be sealed by morning and this decision could cost both women their lives. But what is certain is that their country and history will never be the same.

Told through interviews, land deeds, court diaries, letters, Cierra’s own narration, and the musings of several historians. A Woman of No Importance tells the story of a rotten feud between two middle-aged women but also the ill-fated history of Vilsland and how the interactions of these characters wiped it off the map.

Please ask to be added to the taglist!

Taglist: @thelittlestspider  @thelaughingstag

[alicewhitesblog]

72 year old Judith Brook starred in bewilderment at the image that had appeared on the inside of her left arm. Without talking her eyes off it, she reached out with her right hand towards the table in front of her and lifting a cup from it's saucer, she slowly brought it up to her lips.

Sipping her Earl Grey, she wondered how on earth the picture of a skeleton riding a motorcycle managed to manifest itself onto the inside of her arm. She knew in her old age that she was becoming forgetful, but surely she would have remembered getting a tattoo! And if she did consciously get one she would have chosen the picture of her late cat not this hideous thing!

Returning the cup to its saucer, Judith looked back at her arm. With the mystery of sudden appearance of her new, and only tattoo, occupying her mind she overlooked the small round flesh coloured sticky plaster on the palm of her hand. A reminder of the blood given to her that morning.

Then, a strange thought occurred to her, 'I wonder if someone is missing a tattoo?'

Across town, Jason Kline is in a bar drinking his beer looking down at the space in his tattoo sleeve. It had been years since he had seen the bare flesh on his arm. Before he gave blood this morning, in the vaccant space, he had a skeleton riding a motorcycle!

[ink-flavored]

Magnet Monday Week 88: Explode

send this to the bros you'd most want to explode with. if you get one back, you're a bro blaster for life!!!!

i’m using this poem to manifest a single week that’s over 60 degrees. the whole week. please. it’s almost april.

If you’re interested in being able to choose the topic of the next poem, make sure to vote in the weekly Magnet Monday polls! Or if you want a commission just like it, check out my pricing sheet!

Transcript under the cut!

[Ko-Fi] [Magnet Monday]

Magnet Monday Taglist (Check out my Google form to get added): @elegant-paper-collection​ @polyphonetic @qelizhus @livums @auroblaze @stardustanddaffodils @thelaughingstag @ceph-the-ghost-writer @auntdarth @damageinkorporated @srjacksin @alesseia @maxdamaz @kaitheenbydoesthings @void-botanist

Explode

bro, it's time to explode!!!

today is the day we blaze together

I know talking is crap

but let's dream big

a commitment to dazzle away

I choose to burn with

a crazy dude

I just want to die cool

and there's nobody better

to blow up with

bro... are you blushing?

[ettawritesnstudies]

[Descriptions in alt text]

New Runaways Intro!

It's no longer a WIP, it's done!! Check out the intro page on my website for a little more information about the main characters, and stay tuned for character intros in the near future. I'm going to be sharing a sneak peek of my formatting process with my mailing list at the end of the month so be sure to sign up for that.

Taglist Reblog: you lovely people already know all of this information, but I'd appreciate a boost to help this story reach new folks. (ask if you want to be added or removed!)

@tiredlittleoldme @abalonetea @happyorogeny @weaver-of-fantasies-and-fables @quilloftheclouds @rainydaydarling @bladeverbenas-blog @andifthestarsweretodie @thelaughingstag @ladywithalamp @avrablake @prettylittlelyres @rainbowsnowflake @theroseempress

[illarian-rambling]

I've been cooking over here with an oc pin-up calendar 💪

My rules for this are that I had to keep the pose and outfit of my ref. Expressions... That depends on the character 💀

We've got Sepo for January, Astra and Mashal for February, Avymere for March, Pash for April, Nyda and Kaulakri for May, and Vermir for June. The other six months will come at a later date. Until then, please enjoy!

@amandacanwrite @elsie-writes @riveriafalll @kosmic-kore @kaylinalexanderbooks

@bard-coded @carrotsinnovember @patternwelded-quill @somethingclevermahogony @whatwewrotepodcast

@the-angriest-author @mk-writes-stuff @frostedlemonwriter @vyuntspakhkite-l-darling @watermeezer

@leahnardo-da-veggie @mr-orion @televisionjester @ray-writes-n-shit @evilgabe29

@trippingpossum @tragedycoded @halfbakedspuds @ominous-feychild @cain-e-brookman

@wyked-ao3 @thecomfywriter @mysticstarlightduck @rumeysawrites @the-golden-comet

@cowboybrunch @gioiaalbanoart @theink-stainedfolk @sableglass @thelaughingstag

@finickyfelix

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

A Little Prayer for Dead Gods - Intro Post

Praying to dead Gods is taboo as much as it is futile. A dead God is better off forgotten in the margins of history as humanity moves on to greater Gods.

The greatest God of them all was the God Regent, uniting a vast number of regions under his iron fist during a long period of bloodshed followed by a century of peace.

But not even a king can rule forever. The God Regent disappeared at the height of his reign, and stayed gone long enough for humanity to move on to newer Gods.

Sasha is a young man raised in a family worshiping the Goddess of Wealth. As a traveler and a thief, praying to her is what he's expected to do. But he prefers the travelling far more than the thieving part of his heritage. Unfortunately for him, the God of Wanderlust is long dead.

All Sasha wants to do is wander the world and see all it has to offer, but it's not long before he gets pulled into a dangerous quest to bring a dead God back to life.

Excerpt:

"You received a divine mission," The Spirit Sovereign reminds him. Sasha nods sagely. "Why are you not acting upon it?" With a sheepish smile he replies, "I didn't understand it." "And instead of asking one of my acolytes to interpret it for you, you dawdled the day away and-" "slept with one of your acolytes, yeah." Sasha's smile fades as an inkling of worry settles in the pit of his stomach, "He's not going to be in trouble for that, is he?"

Standalone novel | Fantasy/Adventure/Romance | Third-person limited | Present tense

Current status: writing second draft

In case you're interested in following along while I'm writing (and hopefully publishing!) this story, I will be tagging it as #wip: a little prayer for dead gods

Please let me know if you want to be added to the taglist so you don't miss anything from Sasha's whimsical adventure!

Taglist: @eatinghemlocks, @foxgloves-garden, @sarandipitywrites, @northwyrm, @trixierosewrites,

@walkman-cat, @asher-writes, @seastarblue, @aloeverawrites, @firesidefantasy

@tracle0, @thelaughingstag, @ravenekrops, @frantheram, @cacophonyofwords

@sunshineomeara, @zonnemaagd, @cheeto-flavoured-pasta

[gaslightwestern]

New York City, 1874 - Charlotte O'Shea

Warren Howard leaned out the window, wearing that insufferable grin of his as he rested his elbow along the ledge. “You know, Miss O’Shea, I always thought you had higher aspirations for yourself than that of a burglar.” Grateful as she was that it was Warren who had discovered her and not anyone else, Charlotte still scowled at him as she gripped the bricks for support. “I am merely following in your footsteps, Mister Howard. How many times you have scaled the walls of this mansion to whisk me off for some after hours adventure?” ��And yet here you are sneaking off to heaven knows where, while I remain without an invitation.”

Hell's Half Acre: Tag | Excerpts | Rambles | Charlotte | Mabel | Warren

In Charlotte's defense, she did try to sneak out like a normal person before resorting to going out her bedroom window.

Toying with the idea of introducing Warren and Charlotte's dynamic ahead of her joining Mabel in tailing a dirty cop. If I go ahead with it, I'll probably have him catch her sneaking out in a more realistic fashion but for now I'm just having fun.

Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist: @cirianne, @oliolioxenfreewrites, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary, @thelaughingstag, @shouldyouwakethewriteblr