#this is a writing tag

[vanderwoodlings]

Blair sighs as she shuts Henry’s door carefully, thinking about crying. She can, now that he’s asleep.

But she’s a little too tired.

The girl she was would’ve screamed at Chuck for this, would’ve left him and spiraled for weeks while Nate and Serena and even Dan scrambled around the wreckage trying to convince her to get her act together.

But she’s grown up. Maybe he’ll be cold or cruel or possessive or angry, remind her that she’s got her dark side too, but she doesn’t have the weeks to spend in the wake of Hurricane Chuck anymore. She has to keep her footing.

She’s learned to keep her footing.

Chuck is sprawled out on the couch, tie undone and shirt untucked. He lets out a faint snore.

Blair takes the glass from the coffee table, pours his nice brandy down the sink—he drinks it like water anyway—and rinses it out. Hiccups, not hurricanes.

She goes back into the front room and picks up Chuck’s shoes. In the morning, he’ll be all apologies and he’ll need his shoes to be where they’re supposed to go.

She thinks about putting them out on the balcony. It looks like rain, and they’re such nice leather.

She puts them in the neat gap between all the other pairs in his closet, goes back downstairs.

He’s still asleep. The couch will give him back pain. She’s not going to wake him up.

Blair realizes, a little distantly, that she is crying after all.

She leaves her husband to sleep.

[leofrith]

[fic] honor bound

fandom: assassin’s creed: valhalla

characters: eivor/leofrith, ceolbert, sigurd, ivarr, ubba, dag, ceolwulf, more to be added

rating: mature

warnings: canon-typical violence, others listed by chapter

In the absence of her jarl, Eivor finds herself tasked with the care and keeping of her entire clan, the young heir to the Mercian throne, and a former thegn who appears to be more ghost than man. Betrayed by his king and left for dead, Leofrith is set adrift without a purpose and living among those he once called enemies. But as they both set out to right past wrongs, they find that the line dividing friend from foe is thinner than it seems, and that purpose—and companionship—can be found in unexpected places. OR Leofrith has a crisis of faith, joins the Hidden Ones, and falls in love. Not necessarily in that order.

read here: chapter i

[cityelf]

this poem is about being nonbinary.

[so-many-ocs]

[on the verge of having a complete breakdown] i need to make some kind of list or perhaps sort things into categories

[samuelroukin]

they need to invent a writing that is easy. and fast also

[evidently-endless]

i think we should remind musicians they can absolutely make up little stories for their songs btw. it doesn’t have to be about them at all. you can invent a guy and put him in situations to music. time honoured tradition in fact.

[vulpinesaint]

quiz enjoyers! i am now inviting you to come create something in my workshop❕

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[kilgarraara]

"I guess I never really faced my fears before"

[frankierotwinkdeath]

Y’all want Taylor Swift to be gay so bad but you won’t even write femslash about her

[vanderwoodlings]

Blair doesn’t know when she stopped thinking of Dan Humphrey as Serena’s ragamuffin boy, and there’s more than a bit of her that wishes she could go back.

She doesn’t like knowing that he has good taste in movies, or how articulate he is about his opinions. She doesn’t like knowing that he’ll bring her coffee and that his mind had already tucked away her order by the first time he did, that he’s the type to notice details like that and carry them with him. She doesn’t like knowing what the curve of his smile looks like when she closes her eyes.

She doesn’t like any of it.

And she certainly doesn’t like Dan.

Blair rolls over onto her other side with a groan, shoving her pillow into what has to be a more comfortable shape. It is too late��or quite possibly too early—for her to still be awake, and if that idiot would get out of her brain, then maybe she wouldn’t be.

No one will ever know that they attended an event together. No one will ever know that she liked attending said event together. Everything is fine. She can sleep.

(If only she could get his stupid hair out of her head.)

[leofrith]

[fic] a different kind of solace

fandom: assassin’s creed: valhalla

characters & pairings: eivor/leofrith

rating: explicit

status: complete

“You are far from home, Leofrith.” It is late afternoon, and the street is bustling with activity, but her voice cuts through the din, distinct in its sound even as its owner is barely more than a perfect stranger to him. He turns. The last time he saw Eivor Wolf-Kissed, she was covered near head to toe with the evidence of battle. Blood—some of it his own—painted her face, muck was caked in her hair, and sweat soaked her armor. She had been no less striking for it then, but now that she is clean and well-kept, he finds himself nearly struck mute. “I could say the same of you, Wolf-Kissed,” he replies. — Leofrith, having just returned from Rome with a restless spirit and bloodstained hands, meets a familiar face on the streets of Lincoln.

read here: part i | part ii | part iii

[noodles-and-tea]

Icons, truly

[beepboopappreciation]

Is this anything

[jonquilandlace]