[daecker]

A GREAT SORROW, AND ONE THAT I AM ONLY BEGINNING TO UNDERSTAND: WE DON’T GET TO CHOOSE OUR OWN HEARTS. WE DON’T GET TO CHOOSE THE PEOPLE WE ARE.

A private + selective writing blog for Theodore Decker of Donna Tartt’s “The Goldfinch.” Written lovingly by—

I.      This is a writing blog for the portrayal of Theodore Decker,     canon-compliant in honest earnest though I’ll be the first to say he won’t be a perfect replica...      my memory is quite fickle and my attempt at writing him is entirely for indulgent purposes.     Please be gentle with my echo of him.  <3

II.      This blog is permanently SLOW activity.      Between work and an embarrassingly low social battery,     my replies both  in-  and  out-  of character will almost always be sporadic.      Plotting and writing in general may be slower on my end,     but I promise that if I follow you,     I want to write with you!      My IMs are always open to bounce around ideas,     and any   +   all initiatives are endlessly appreciated.      On that note,      the best way to start writing with me is by sending in (un)prompted asks and continuing them into threads.      Please keep in mind that I am currently experimenting with my writing style.      Some threads will utilize  first  person while others will utilize  third  and/or a slight mix of both.      If this is an issue,      please refrain from following as I cannot promise consistency at the moment.     

III.      Threads on my end will be iconless and in accordance with the beta editor.     Some extent of formatting will be used,     but nothing too excessive.     For better accessibility on my end,     please avoid using multiple spaces between each word when writing with me.     Of course,     should I need to revise anything in my replies for accommodation purposes,     never hesitate to reach out!

IV.     This blog carries an allowance to triggering themes unsuitable for minors,     some of which may include:     death,   drug usage,   depersonalization,   internalized homophobia,   etc.      I only tag what mutuals ask to be tagged    [#trigger /],    though my memory is susceptible,     and I admit now that there may be a fault on my part.     If this happens,     please do not hesitate to send me a reminding message or block at your desire.

V.      Regarding dynamics,     all platonic,   familial,   and/or antagonistic relationships are highly encouraged!     I hesitate with romantic dynamics only because Theo is so trauma bound that it seems unlikely,     but I’m not at all opposed to it.     That being said,     I love working with pre-established dynamics as my my online presence is limited as is,      so if you have an idea,     never shy away from messaging me or including the dynamic in a prompt to test out. 

VI.      General dni criteria   +   rp etiquette are applied.

VII.      Theft from this blog will not be tolerated.     While I in no way created Thedore Decker,     my writing and interpretation of him are both precious and exhaustive to me     —     that is to say,     carried with so much love.      Let us enjoy each other’s presence and words while also remaining respectful...    ☆～（ゝ。∂）

[daecker]

An independent + private portrayal of Theodore Decker of Donna Tartt's “The Goldfinch,” written lovingly by Yen. Please ♡ or ↺ if interested, and I'll check you out!

[daecker]

itching for my tsh reread… I must confirm if my analyses are actually Real and Onto Something or if I just cooked some bullshit lmfao

[daecker]

✦           camilla macaulay:          “   we will always be alone.   ”

the fluidity of my nodding head could have been blamed on drink if i really wanted it to be— though three drinks in and only the slightest buzz, if anything, left me much of the same man i was when i’d stepped into the bar an hour before. i held my gaze on the wall in front of me, or more particularly, what hung on it: edward hopper’s the nighthawks in cheap replica, gilded and crooked and still so inherently lonely that it took a second to realize this voice wasn’t in my head, didn’t belong to me, but cradled my truth all the same.

with sudden awareness, i turned to the source of this truth and saw a girl staring intently at hopper’s retailed legacy, the ends of an overgrown pixie flaring off her shoulders. had i seen her before, passing through grecian vases and silverware at hobie’s antique shop? (…) i cleared my throat. “yeah—” her gray eyes were reminiscent of stormy clouds awaiting permission— “yeah, i think that’s what he was trying to say, too, with the sharp chiaroscuro and composition. the… distance— it’s impressively translated.” in the silence that followed, a shard of loneliness crept over my tongue as i remembered my mother invoking debate over her favorite artworks, always ending with but what is the artist saying, theo? to which i never liked, if only because i preferred listening to her, but would now give the world to answer if she were still here to ask. then, before i could stop it, i thought about my father, and andy, and even boris who may well have been dead from whatever fatal curse i carried. 

curling my fingers around cold glass, i took another sip of my drink, its liquid amber warm and smooth.  “it’s pronounced his most beautiful and most haunting piece, but that’s a bit too romantic, too unrealistic, no?” my nameless companion sat poised, her straight back independent from the metal seat. i slid my focus from her again before speaking. “that distance, that absence— i’m not too sure of its beauty.”

[daecker]

cheeze trap ...

[lions-lanternwood]