Sapphic-terror - Nicky

in my slut era. (i can't even start a conversation)

Okay I’m finally writing this and it is literally just Fiyero and Glinda fighting over Elphaba, like she’s finally doing okay bc she’s getting love and support, and the two of them are just glaring at each other around her like she’s mine

(Don’t worry, they all grudgingly hold hands eventually)

YALL - hear me out, Wicked thruple but it’s mean lesbian Galinda, bi wife energy Fiyero with daddy issues, and Elphaba who had two hands and a mission to change the world

(Hear me out again, thruple takes over the world through magic, manipulations and being hot)

in the darkness, two shadows,

reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. their hands meet.

love letter to fanny brawne, john keats // orestes, euripides // wait for me (intro) ("hey, the big artiste"), hadestown // ghost photographs - doug and brenda, angela deane // les misérables, victor hugo // achilles come down, gang of youths // how to become a myth, nikita gill // romeo and juliet, shakespeare // lovers of valdaro // song of achilles, madeline miller // i will follow you into the dark, deathcab for cutie // planet of love, richard siken

Every so often I think about how screwed up the mental health care system is because it took me so long to find a therapist that I stopped being suicidal because I therapized myself (I talked to myself in my own head until it worked) months before I got an actual meeting.

the moment where. where she screams. screaming for help. i’m dying right now! screaming. and there’s no reaction at all. there’s nothing. it’s more devastating than judgment could be somehow. “i’m sorry. ignore me.” before she crumples and chokes. i’m never going to be okay again i think.

She’s humming some old lullaby her mother used to sing to her when she was young. The words are half lost on her, but the meaning still rings true. Alicent cradles her daughter, her sweet, lovely girl, her darling Helaena, and whispers, breathes i love you, oh my sweet child, my flesh and blood, i love you.

There is blood soaking through her white shift, there is blood trickling through the cracks of the Red Keep. Helaena does not cry.

altars made from your own bones on ao3

and we were supposed to be the saviors. the generation to fix it all. but they left us with a broken planet and no tools to fix it and then they sneered when we came to them, empty handed.

“you’re so privileged,” they chortle. “it’s because you’re always on your phone.”

we are the kids living in a nightmare. they say we’re numb to 9/11 but maybe that’s because what was the worst day for them could become just another thursday for us. school shootings every other day and a rapist on our Supreme Court but hey, that’s how it is, right? at least we have memes to tide us over until doomsday. this hellscape is somehow normal. our president says people should be deporting for kneeling during the national anthem and all we can is laugh at it. but we are no longer laughing because it’s a joke.

we’re laughing because we’re afraid.

afraid that the world is going to end before we even become adults, afraid that we’ll be plunged into another war because of a fucking tweet, afraid of shooters coming in through our doors and children being taken from their homes and the problem is that our fear is justified. that it’s real and it’s happening.

nearly everyone i know is queer, depressed, and/or sick of the adults in this world. sick of how 71% of our pollution is caused by 1% of the population. sick of how we can only sit here and listen to them tell us to take shorter showers because there’s nothing else we can do.

and fuck, have we tried to do everything we can. walk-outs, protests, boycotts. speak up and speak out, but it’s just too late. they’ve been digging underneath us this whole time and it’s only now that the floor’s collapsing that we see the pit. how it’s not that they’re not hearing us anymore. trust me, we’ve made sure they’ve heard. it’s just that they don’t care.

and suddenly all those dystopian futures don’t look so far away. you know, where people die in the streets because doctors refuse to see them. where people are silenced (shot, jailed, deported) for speaking out. sometimes I think I’ll wake up and everyone will be marching in rhythm.

they told us to save the world, but we never had a chance.

Start Here - Caitlyn Siehl

someone much more talented than me needs to make a Kate (or Javi) (or both) edit to End of Beginning by Djo so I can rewatch it a thousand times and spiral