#ohdete

　　　　'𝘢 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨' ... if he knows anything, he knows what a weird feeling does.  how you can feel it eating away at your brain like a word you can't quite remember. weird feelings are common for donnie ———    they lead him to his end each night in his dreams, and they jeopardise everything he does, as if he's in the backseat of his own mind. 𝗗𝗢𝗡𝗡𝗜𝗘 𝗜𝗦 𝗔𝗟𝗪𝗔𝗬𝗦 𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗩𝗜𝗡𝗚. **** going through doors, past gates, in and out of neighbourhoods — when you aren't awake it is easy to walk for miles with no goal in sight. regardless, the truth weighs on him; the truth that nina is a sensitive, nearly malleable creature who's ғʀᴀɢɪʟᴇ, ʜᴀɴᴅʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴄᴀʀᴇ signage does not quantify the exact meekness of her scale of emotion. it takes a few seconds before donnie can find the words to respond to her cryptic message, though he's struggling to even cope with his surroundings at present; barely comfortable with the coquettish, frilled bedsheets and soft pastel decorations that drown his vision.   donnie sits on the ottoman next to nina's desk, looking to the girl hardly visible between all the soft satin pillows she sits in. her castle of softness leads donnie to gather that she's existed in this bell jar her whole life, treating the rest of the world like a threat. he'd struggled with privacy in his own house but not to such an extent; her mother must be a leech if the only time he's allowed over is when she's gone, behind her back. it does feel like there must be a spy camera in the eye of one of her teddies, however.  ❛❛ i don't want to, but your ma' .. ❜❜   he can see her retract even if by the smallest manner ——— 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, he doesn't want to leave. inviting her back to his apartment feels shameful, though, if this is her room. he does so anyway.   ❛❛ why don't you come back to my apartment? i live alone, so, ❜❜

@ohdete

“ I thought I'd find you here, A regular workhorse, aren't you? ( ... ) Some 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙣 I make, huh? ” [ Gatsby has always quite favored the arts, the 𝘀𝘆𝗺𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗰 𝗴𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗳 has long held him in the thrall. 𝗛is wallet's funded the theater with the same open hand other man may reserve for jewels and racehorses. ] Recently, though There had been one predominant reason for his fair for the arts. : 𝕻ʳⁱᵐᵃ 𝔅ᵃˡˡᵉʳⁱⁿᵃ, ˢ𝔴𝔞𝔫-necked and sacrificial devotion. An ankle relinquishes his knee and the polished sole returns to the carpet. ᵀᵃˡˡ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ unfolds from the chair, palm catching its upholstered back and settling there with a careless portion of his weight. While his name sits handsomely among donors and benefactors, a 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔫 is meant, [PRESUMABLY], to also attend such the thing he patronizes. Gatsby's expression rearranges itself into 𝗿𝘂𝗲𝗳𝘂𝗹 confession, mouth pulling slightly sideways while his thumb worries some absent little circuit against the carved edge. “ Been told I missed quite an 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘺 show last 𝐒aturday. Rather rotten luck on my part. ” A little breath through the nose, almost laughter, and his gaze falls briefly toward the abandoned hat. It's collected and pressed respectfully against his chest, “ ... I hope you'll forgive me. ”

“ look. i’m not part of anything, i promise. ” veronica’s constant need to justify her behavior, to remain GOOD to everyone around her, to ensure that her behavior isn’t conflated with that of her friends, has exacerbated since aligning herself with the top rung of the social hierarchy. she swallows, trying to suppress her self-inflicted victimhood. “ did the heathers do something? ”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ@ohdete——

Rhaenyra's pale figure stands behind the girl's, close enough for her to speak low and dryly. She studies her hair and her ear and the traces of her face that are just within sight. It's like staring at the moon, only prettier, more delectable. ❛❛ Did you enjoy dinner, my lady? ❜❜ @ohdete–

“ ⠀ you’re always so serious. ⠀ ” ⠀ she continues, ⠀ putting on her ballet shoes. ⠀ “ ⠀ you really should lighten up. ⠀ ”