You Know What I Need? I Need Someone To Translate Five Pages Of Archaic Latin. Obviously, That’s Not

Teatro La Fenice, Venice Italy

srphne​:

for someone that spent all her life alone, it was surprising how easily it was for aimée to grow closer to people now that she was in college. she only had a couple of friends during high school and, before that, her circle of people was even more limited. however, she found herself quickly feeling comfortable and happy with julian’s presence. few conversations and they were friends, and that’s all it was needed for aimée to never let him go. 

                                      no fucking way! you lived in a actually haunted house? that’s so ….          the girl stoped herself was soon as she noticed that she was being kind of rude.                             hm, sorry about your granfather. i’m not gonna lie, it does sounds cool to live in a haunted house, in theory. but it must be annoying and scary and specially harsh if it was someone you loved…  even if you don’t believe in any of this.    she quickly added, expecting him to protest her casual acceptance of the supernatural, like many people usually did. 

she was used to people going against her beliefs in ghosts and supernatural, but she didn’t care. specially since believing in the existence of ghosts meant that she could pretend that her parents were still with her.

          ❝I didn’t know him,❞ Jules says with a laugh. ❝This was years before I was born. I didn’t even really get stories about him, since he was my father’s father, and my father died when I was so young that I don’t remember him at all. So it’s really a nothing thing, emotionally.❞ 

Her excitement is fun, and he can’t help but grin at her. It’s clear she’s a believer, and he’s certainly not going to fault her for it, even if he doesn’t. The idea is fascinating, and he certainly understands the impulse to believe.

          ❝Closest I’ve ever gotten to knowing anything about him is my mother telling me how strong and respectable he was. How he should be a role model.❞ He snorts. ❝Yeah, no, I’m not gonna try to emulate the guy who pissed off his business partner so much that he literally got murdered.❞

( Not that he could ever live up to it anyway... )

He leans toward her slightly, still beaming, and he clasps his hands together.

          ❝One of my classmates liked to say they’d see him standing in the attic window, where he died. He’d swear up and down to his friends that he saw it.❞

That insistence was always particularly funny to Julian, since there’s a solid chance that he saw Julian, since he used his grandfather’s old study up there as a quiet place to write, where it was unlikely his mother would bother him. She found the whole thing creepy, since she knew the man who died there.

He did his homework there a lot too. It was those nights where he’d aaaaaalmost convinced himself he heard something. Saw something out of the corner of his eye. But that’s normal, on less than two hours sleep that he had sometimes back then.

( And now still, honestly )

          ❝It’s an old victorian mansion, built in the mid-1800s, so I super get why people were so ready to think it was haunted. It looks like it should be a haunted house- though one in very good condition.❞

Writing is my obsession, my passion. My relationship with it is one of the most complex and agonizing and richly vexing that I have in my life.

Julianna Baggott (via wordsnquotes)

i don't WANT to live in a society i want to live in a bookstore cafe

I like listening to ppl talk so i can see whats normal and whats not normal

folklore - taylor swift

a tale that becomes folklore is one that is passed down and whispered around. sometimes even sung about. the lines between fantasy and reality blur and the boundaries between truth and fiction become almost indiscernible. speculation, over time, becomes fact. myths, ghost stories, and fables. fairytales and parables. gossip and legend. someone's secrets written in the sky for all to behold.

overanalyze and chill

@parkerperhaps​ liked

Jules rocks on the balls of his feet, looking at the other freshman. They’re in the lgbtqia+ alliance too, but he’s always been bad at introductions. Or talking to people in general ( not respectable- awkward and introverted and weird- never good enough ), but he wants to try.

This isn’t like the GSA back home. He’s not... expected to be perfect and always perform the the ‘perfect’ trans person. He doesn’t have to be some flawless person and representative of trans people in his small upstate New York town where he’s the only Trans guy. His mother is not here, and this is a progressive campus. And this is another person who is not Cis. 

There is no reason to be this awkward, and yet... 

          ❝So- uh, did you take a gap year or two?❞ They seem a few years older than him, but he’s not... sure. And it was the only thing he could think of to say.

He’s never been good at small talk, and that’s certainly not changing now. Nevertheless he’s going to be as friendly as he can manage. Social expectations be damned.

He can practically here his mother’s upset now.