morgi's blair waldorf of gossip girl. est. sept 2023.
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@uptowne
morgi's blair waldorf of gossip girl. est. sept 2023.
MISHTI RAHMAN via tiktok
@likewiley
"has anyone ever told you to invest in air freshers?" zephyrs of cigarette smoke breeze past her nostrils, delicate features scrunching up in disgust as she enters the shared dorm. blair's right hand immediately reaches for the gucci perfume bottle off her dresser, spraying two puffs in the air before her nose is finally granted clemency. "or a vape? like every other loser on campus?"
does anyone want anything smol <3
BLAIR WALDORF GOSSIP GIRL 5x24 | “The Return of the Ring”
is this thing on
THE 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 ARTIST¹ ⠀ a character that strives to perfect their chosen craft and better themselves at it by any means necessary, which can lead to their own 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 in their pursuit of perfection.
FINALLY, SOMEONE INTERESTING HAS FOUND THEIR way into one of these stiff - shouldered circle jerks. & a loyal friend to boot, or so it seems. some might say the same of cate & 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚝, she knows it to be untrue. what kind of friend would do the things i'd done? the way she sinks her teeth into their skin & then patches the wound. what would they say if they knew? ❝ well- sounds like my kind of gal. ❞ this insatiable nature of hers, the inevitable result of spending years within those dreaded four walls. 𝙳𝙸𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈 𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁 𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙿 𝚃𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙺 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙼𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝙳𝙾 𝚃𝙾 𝙼𝙴? shaking off memories of the past as she joins her for the shot. having discreetly slipped her glove from her right hand, she latches onto the bartender before he can fulfill her order.
❝ the good shit. & leave the bottle. ❞ swallowing back bile at the familiar dead - eyed look she receives in return. WISH OH SO EASILY GRANTED, she plucks the bottle from his grasp & fills their empty glasses. the night is young & she promised i.ndira at least an hour of face time. best to drink up now while she has the chance. make a new friend. ❝ oh no, definitely not top 10 & i haven't spoken to my parents in years. ❞ TMI? maybe. but she asked. & it no longer cuts her up inside to say it.
❝ i guess you could say i'm part of the general entourage. ❞ vague as always, the best way to keep an ever - growing web of lies afloat. until someone starts to dig, that is. & they always do. don't they? ❝ so, dragged here? maybe. but what do you really think of all this? ❞ she's curious.
and just like that, with a single touch and command, the blonde has everything she's ever wished for. (it's a movie blair she's far too many times before, and it almost makes her wince on the spot. she swallows it, though— just like she swallows everything else.) as the glass is filled once again, blair takes another drink. anything to numb what she just saw, and the envy beginning to pool within the depths on her stomach. (it's a moment like this where she thanks lily van der woodsen for not injecting serena with compound v. thank you, lily!) “ but, let me guess: you want to be top 10. that's why you're here, right? general entourage or not— everybody wants to be at the top. be queen. ” her eyebrows wiggle as the last sentence departs her mouth, the camarderie loosening her up. [also because, who doesn't want to be queen? who doesn't want to be at the top?] “ parents are overrated, anyway— you're not missing much. ”
digits reach for the bottle of liquor, pouring herself another glass. she'd need it for the next segment of their conversation. her thoughts on all this? glass brought to her lips, she downs the vodka single swig because grimacing. “ i think... another superhero kills a teacher and himself, and they're throwing a gala in response. money certainly talks. but, i mean, who am i to judge? ” she's just one of the few manhattan elites who put on their best dior dress, curled their hair, and showed up to the gala with their wealthy checkbooks and pens ready to write. [should i make this out to vought or the university themself? the question echoing throughout the venue the entire night.]
“ my opinion really doesn't matter, though. not yet, anyways. ” give it another ten years— then yes, blair waldorf's opinion will matter. more so than eleanor waldorf.
✱ dialogue starter ... STILL ACCEPTING !
" yeah, these nights ... it's mostly kind of a haze for me now. just smells and sounds. "
@uptowne — ⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆
a putrid scent breaches the brunette's nostrils— a mixture of fresh mist and decay. her facial features grimace in response, chills running down her spine. “ this might be the worst night of my entire life. ” kentucky was only good for two things: 𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐧. “ if i'd known tagging along with you would've meant... this, i would've stayed in the limo. ” broken down along the highway, waiting until morning for the tow truck to arrive; not the greatest way to spend the evening. but it would've been better than this.
let's consider this a starter call 🤨
Audrey Hepburn wearing Givenchy in 'Breakfast At Tiffany's' (1961)
“ i won't tell a soul. i promise. “
discretion is hard to find. friends , even harder. chrissy is out of place since they've moved. most time spent at home , while everyone else chases their dreams. but wasn't that hers? to play a supporting role in the lives of others. it made her happy , or at least content. and who was she to complain? beautiful home , family. in most eyes , didn't chrissy cunningham have it all? she takes another inhale from joint , before offering blair a poised smile. ❛ it means a lot , really. ❜ as if smoking was something to be ashamed of. it's ridiculous , and she knows it. to be worried about something so trivial. but chrissy had an image , and if she let that falter for just one moment? or maybe , it was all on herself. to lock herself away in a cage , held back by the expectations of what everyone else wanted her to be. she passes it over , wrapping arms around her own thin frame. ❛ how do you do it? stop caring? ❜ blue hues focus on the other , question asked in shaking voice. ❛ i have all these expectations. to be a mother , a wife. and i don't think i know who i am under any of it anymore. ❜ it's the first time she's said it aloud , and the words are heavy with guilt. she's happy, despite how all of it sounds. right where she wants to be. is it a selfish thing , to want something so desperately for herself?
SHE'D LIVED THROUGH THE AGE OF GOSSIP GIRL. when the upper east-sider's children weren't famous enough to be in the tabloids, but were guilty enough to have a gossip blog exposing their every action. every detail of their live— chronicled, polished, and published for all of manhattan. (and whoever else's viewing and sadistic pleasure.) while nobody lived in fear of gossip girl, their mistakes weren't ever forgotten. they were forever a stygian rain cloud that would hover above their heads, threatening to pour at any given moment. and the time capsule still exists, the website never having been taken down— even as the years have passed by. [sometimes, in hindsight, blair envies dan for being the mastermind behind it all. sometimes she wishes she'd been smart enough to come up with it. the ammunition she could have had as a teenager.] as the joint is passed to her, she takes a hit— one, two, three, and an exhale. smoke billowing from blair's lips, chrissy's question is a near-curveball. it's unexpected, and nearly causes the brunette to choke on the remaining smoke lingering in her throat. “ you think i don't care what people think about me? ” features painted aghast, lips parted, she cocks her head to the side.
“ all i've done my whole life is care how people look at me... how i'm perceived. i've had to fight to even be perceived. ” her whole life, she's looked like darth vader standing next to sunshine barbie: serena had forever gotten anything she wanted, and without trying. why couldn't that have happened to blair? [why was her testament to commitment tested when nobody else's ever was?] extending the joint back to chrissy, blair focuses on the horizon— the cityscape looming in the background.
“ you know, there's a gala coming up next week— why don't you come with me? i'm allowed to bring a plus one; you can get dressed up, have a nice night away from the kids. maybe even meet some people... some connections? i was going to invite serena, but she was already invited by the crown prince of dubai— can you believe that? ”
do u have a favorite blair story arc?
oh my word, there's so many good ones!!!! i think my ultimate favorite is clear, especially if you look at my threads: her overall arc throughout season 3. the whole struggle at nyu/making a fool of herself, not being able to understand why people don't accept her/the classist views she shares. it's almost a form of karma for her bullying throughout the years. (now granted, i think it's fair to point out— she had plenty of support throughout this arc. in canon, she had chuck, serena, her own mother, even vanessa + dan at certain times.) the way i depict is definitely a little different, so i'm sure i'm partially biased of the s3 story arc because of that, but it's definitely my favorite.
she had never been the biggest fan of superheroes. it was easy to disguise as her dislike— they're just ordinary people at the end of the day like us! what makes them any better than audrey hepburn? (those closest to her could read between the blurred lines, though: she was jealous. jealous of their abilities > JEALOUS OF THEM STANDING AMONGST THE CROWD. something she's failed to achieve in her twenty years of life.)
@herosupe ╱ 𝒜nnie: maybe if you feel out of place, maybe it’s because you are.
when the words enter her ears, blair has to admit— starlight's good. good at breaking the brunette out of her thoughts, the saccharine ring to her voice. she comes off as a friend, even as a complete stranger who blair's bumped into on park avenue. maybe it's because nobody's around, maybe it's because she genuinely needs advice from a superhero— blair bites. “ ugggh! do you not get how humiliating that sounds? you're a star amidst a sky of flickering lights! part of the seven, earth's mightiest! i'm a nobody whose dorm is going need a blacklight sweep later! ” a courtesy of georgina and dan's brand new blossoming relationship— one that has blair gagging every time she enters the dorm. designer heels click softly against the pavement, blair's posture remaining regal. always the picture of self-assured elgance, even in times of crisis. (even as her demeanor drops into the pits of girlhood panic.) as they halt at the crosswalk, a deep breath is inhaled.
“ you know what my mom says: embrace my uniqueness. nobody else is blair waldorf— that what makes me unique. how do i embrace that when nobody else wants to see it, though? ” how do you crawl out of a shadow you've never been able to depart before?
set the scene setting prompts (but a little more specific) from yours truly.
001, a convenience store past midnight.
002, a hospital waiting room at 3 in the morning.
003, a photoshoot outdoors in the middle of winter.
004, an indoor filming set of a detective's office.
005, a new house/apartment filled with unopened cardboard boxes.
006, a swing set in an empty playground at night.
007, on stage in an empty theatre.
008, inside an old abandoned house.
009, an empty cemetery at night.
010, the arrival hall at an airport.
011, the last train compartment that's not full.
012, the roulette table in a casino.
013, on the deck of a cruise ship.
014, a kitchen during a black out, surrounded by candles.
015, a treehouse in the middle of the woods.
016, on the dance floor during a wedding.
017, behind the chapel before the wedding ceremony starts.
018, backstage during the middle of a concert.
019, a crowded club during a bachelorette party.
020, standing in front of a painting at a museum.
021, a small, intimate family barbecue.
022, a gazebo while it's raining.
023, the back of an empty bus.
024, a hotel room with only one bed.
025, an empty balcony while a party goes on inside.
026, a bar just after closing.
027, an empty sports stadium.
028, lakeside while the sun is setting.
030, an empty stretch of road beside a broken down car.
031, in front of a suspicious pool of blood in an empty parking lot.
032, in the crowd of spectators during an underground fight.
033, a plane during a bout of turbulence.
034, on kiss cam at a sports game.
035, at a table during a charity gala.
036, a masquerade ball.
037, a halloween party in a suburban house.
038, the beach in the late afternoon.
039, a dressing room after a big performance.
040, exploring the depths of a mysterious cave.
GOSSIP GIRL (2007-2012) s2e04 “the ex-files”
one might argue a has-been is largely better than a never-been where their schooling hierarchies had been involved. back then, andrew had fallen into a landscape of anonymity, a face unsnapped by the seemly ubiquitous nature of the unidentified gossip girl, who saw and documented all the insipid exploits of the upper-east side. andrew would say, he had preferred it that way: unseen and unheard and left to pursue his own destiny that outlied such futile fulfilment. and yet, there was a certain chagrin that accompanied a stake in invisibility, something that in school seemed to matter beyond any real logic. everyone inside school boundaries wanted to be liked, to be known, a concern that did not entirely exist in the real world as it had then. he shares company with blair waldorf and those insecurities return, some unintended infantilisation that brings him back to adolescent timidity that one could not rightly explain. andrew feels out of place, looks out of place, her invite to dinner an enigma even to him when she once failed to remember his name, up until that very moment he was required for assistance of some kind. this felt like high school repeat, a prerequisite for company that had not yet made itself apparent.
"how is life?" he almost scoffs, but realigns his behaviour with this game of wealth that she had invited him into. it was an underhanded class: he'd been around people like blair long enough to know that they parted with their disapproval in bite-sized pieces, polite enough to stage false tact and bitch at one another in level tones. he picks up his wine glass (hating that shit as it polishes his mouth in sour refinement) and loses his words to the glass in the masquerade of false indifference. "oh, you know how being poor is. budgeting, working late shifts to afford being at college. i'm sure you understand. this is actually my first meal of the week."
the second his sarcasm breaches the air, blair groans in response. “ oh, there's the andrew i know! such a joy to be around. i'm not sure if it's you or your sad, pathetic, excuse of a life— but i want to jump into the hudson and die now. ” deadpan demeanor, her eyes practically roll into the back of her head. she'll need a drink if she's going to make it through this. [the aftermath of her decision regarding company was becoming clearer: THIS WAS A MISTAKE.] she reaches for her martini glass— as the gin makes it way down her throat, she clasps her hands on the table. “ i'll be generous because deep down, i'm a kindhearted individual, but frankly— get your shit together. you can order two entrees. just watch the carb intake. ” (rule number one of being queen: you must be cold. rule number two of being queen: keep your population happy. sometimes you have to sacrifice to keep the grasp on power.) and with that: SHE PICKS UP HER OWN MENU. “ i recommend the tortellini and the pan-seared branzino; they're to die for! ” small talk isn't her forté, and the attempt is near cringeworthy. as a reward for her efforts, blair sets her menu aside after some time passes. (she'd been settled on the tuscan kale salad the moment she walked on the premises. a luxury for those who can affort to come here every friday night.)
“ do you find it weird being here? i mean, you're like julia roberts in pretty woman— you have to find it a little weird. ” a jab towards him or a genuine question? she'll leave it for him to decide, but blair chooses to lean back in her seat. reaching for her martini glass, she takes another drink— eyebrows raising with infused curiosity.