CALL ME L8R, I texted back. But there was no reply—and it would be a long, long time before I heard anything from Boris again.
The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt // The Goldfinch (2019) dir. John Crowley
going into second hand bookstores and seeing the worn out paperback you’ve been trying to find for months and finding an odd bookmark inside the musty pages feels like divine providence
I’ve decided to be sexier in 2020. There will be with no actual effort on my part, l just intend to be perceived as such
are you ever scrolling through tumblr and you have a thought and immediately lose it so you have to scroll back up to give your brain the conditions under which it originally created the thought so you can bring it back
classic lit hits different than modern lit not because modern lit lacks depth but because there’s something so incredible about reading something and knowing that hundreds of years before you people were living, breathing, loving, the same way you do now. like one hundred years ago someone read these same words and felt them and read them just as you do today, and you’re connected despite the times that separates you
Member of the “Sorry, I didn’t hear what you just told me, because there are those two people talking 5 meters away, a child crying on the opposite sidewalk, and 3 cars passing by, on all of which my brain focused and put at equal volume in my ear instead of politely putting your sound first” squad
get ‘im, ophelia
Joan of Arc
i love you vampire themed media i love you metaphor for queerness i love you blood aesthetic i love you gothic architecture i love you coffin beds i love you cross necklaces i love you canine teeth i love you intimacy hidden in violence i love you vampires
mostly dark academia shitposting - any pronouns
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