Yeah Libraries Are Cool But Have You Ever Found A Library With A Secret Doorway Disguised As A Bookshelf

i wish everything was quieter and softer and less often

Books don’t offer real escape, but they can stop a mind scratching itself raw.

David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas (via wordsnquotes)

@eliasfynn liked

Jules just came here to watch the figure skaters practice. It’s not the kind of thing he could ever do- he simply does not have the grace for it- but he can appreciate the artistry of it. 

It’s like ballet, but on ice. It’s pretty and... like... there’s nothing wrong with wanting to appreciate elegant choreography when his ultimate goal is to be a theatre director right? 

Besides, it’s the only sport he’s ever found interesting to watch. And his friend Aimée is a figure skater here. He needs to have something he can just enjoy watching, to have an easy thing to do while studying. Otherwise he’d lose his mind here quickly, with how little enjoyment he actually gets out of his Major.

He was hoping to just go unnoticed with his book in the stands, half studying, half watching, but... it didn’t work out that way.

          ❝I, uh. I’m sorry!❞ He quickly stands up, ready to leave if he’s a bother with his presence. ❝I-I can go, if- if you don’t want me here.❞

@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.

Had a professor who does not know me walk by and say ‘Ah yes. I can see it in your eyes. The fear’ today and fuck if I wasn’t terrified before I sure am now

Julian doesn’t believe in ghosts, but he’d be lying if the quiet of campus in the dark didn’t make him uneasy, and he had his phone out as a flashlight by the time he got to the garden. At least it didn’t take him too long to find the bonfire itself.

And he gravitated to sit near the first person he spotted that he actually knew to any degree, his roommate. He’s pretty quiet, saying as little as possible while keeping the conversation going, but Montague saying that gets a pause from Jules.

          ❝... Huh.❞ He says quietly, pushing his glasses up his nose. He’s actually wearing his glasses for once, having taken his contacts out earlier in the evening. They were starting to burn his eyes a bit, so he knew better than to keep them in. He’s sure his eyes are invisible because of that, with the flickering glare of the fire on his lenses.

That’s good. Maybe it’s not so obvious how nervous he is to even be here.

He really doesn’t know what to make of his roommate. Montague seems incredibly nice, but also like... just... a lot. Very exuberant and friendly.

A hell of a Roommate for someone like Julian to end up with ( Awkward, shy, nervous, reserved. Someone people just forget. No one would forget the likes of Montague for sure ). He’s only at this bonfire party at all because it was his roommate’s idea, and it would feel rude to not come.

          ❝Maybe it’s just because I’ve never had close friends before, but I really cannot fathom that. The social part of the college experience has legitimately never crossed my mind before now.❞

Julian is sitting cross-legged on a think fleece blanket he brought with him, and he has his writing notebook out on his lap, with a pen held loosely in his hand. He heard there were going to be Ghost Stories, and he wanted to take notes. He feels like there’s a lot that could be done with the ideas floating around this campus. There’s nothing quite like hearing people tell the spooky things they think they’ve experienced (or want us to think they experienced) for inspiration.

Though he doesn’t know why he bothers. He’s never going to go anywhere with this. Just a dumb hobby. He clicks his pen a few times, before looking back up at Montague.

          ❝Could you not just... keep in contact with your college friends upon graduating, or uh dropping out? Or would that somehow not be the same?❞

no matter how much time montague spent away from the university, he’d never forget the feeling of just walking through the gardens during the night. right now, the ethereal feeling was mixed with excitement for the impromptu rendezvous, but he could recognize it nonetheless. montague never believed in magic. he used to say that he met too many faithful people, learned too many conflicted myths to actually believe in any of them, so he’d never say that château campus was supernaturally magical. however, not even him could deny that the university carried some kind of magic. it was the same feeling he got when he hiked up a huge mountain just to have the view up there remind him that the world was a huge place. naturally magical. 

he took a deep breath, stretched his arm to catch one more bottle of beer and rearranged himself on the blanket in which he was seated.                                                 i’m serious, ok? the true reason i came back is this. not the fact that i should graduate before i turn thirty and i’ve been in this college for almost a decade already …  i missed the people and this moments. this is what make the whole college experience worth it.           it wasn’t exactly a lie. of course, he had a time limit to graduate because of his father, but it wouldn’t be the first time montague went against the man. the thing that made the classes bearable was these moments, with the hockey team, his friends and his future friends.

@srphne​ liked

Julian hasn’t been here very long ( right? He only just started here? It feels like a lifetime ago that he left his New York home and everything he’d ever known behind ) but Aimée was someone he clicked with instantly. They share a few classes, since she’s a Performing Arts major to his Drama and Theatre Production.

While he would never say this to her ( she’d think it’s creepy how quickly he’s become attached ), she’s already like... the older sister he never had. 

          ❝-No really. People would say my childhood house was haunted. I never saw anything, but my grandfather died in the house, uh, violently. So people talked.❞

A few sleep deprived auditory hallucinations, and imaginary things in his peripheral vision aside, he didn’t. He’s never seen anything, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t interest him.

They got onto this topic because of the supposed hauntings and such of campus, which he’s definitely curious about. He can understand the impulse to believe that about a place like this, with it’s bloody history and how isolated it is up on the mountain. Something that gruesome has to matter for some people, so it’s imagined as ghosts and things that go bump in the night.

It’s all fascinating. 

An intelligent person is never afraid or ashamed to find errors in their understanding of things.

Bryant McGill (via mysimplereminders)

“I feel unspeakably lonely. And I feel - drained. It is a blank state of mind and soul I cannot describe to you as I think it would not make any difference. Also it is a very private feeling I have - that of melting into a perpetual nervous breakdown. I am often questioning myself what I further want to do, who I further wish to be; which parts of me, exactly, are still functioning properly.”

— A Self-Portrait in Letters, Anne Sexton (via vilicity)