𝕔𝕒𝕞𝕡𝕦𝕤 𝕞𝕠𝕧𝕚𝕖 𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥, 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕢𝕦𝕒𝕕 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖𝕕

Catherynne M. Valente, The Bread We Eat in Dreams; “Mouse Koan”

It makes your heart race. It turns the world upside-down. But if you’re not careful, if you don’t keep your eyes on something still, you can lose your balance, you know?

PRACTICAL MAGIC (1998) dir. Griffin Dunne

@aceofportsmouth​

aceofportsmouth·:

He laid his head on the pool edge, looking up at Quinn with a soft smile. “I’m a tad jealous. I don’t have any cousins.” Booker shared. “My brother and sisters are great, but it’d be nice to have some outside of my immediate family, you know?” Sharing helped with finding common ground. Booker thought of himself as an open book, if that book had sentences with whited-out sections. “Greer seemed like a party girl. Do you think she would be proud of this event? Or would you like to talk about something else?” Booker added, blinking innocently. “I think we have some classes together. If you’d like to discuss classes, who doesn’t love talking about medicine, right?”

               her   eyes   narrowed   conspicuously   as   he   reeled   off   question   after   question.   she   didn't   even   know   this   guy's   name   and   here   he   was,   prepped   for   an   interview.   quinn   didn't   know   if   it   was   recent   events   with   greer,   being   forced   to   be   at   this   stupid   party   or   her   morrison   upbringing   but   it   put   her   back   up.   what   was   his   deal?   she   tried   to   turn   the   conversation   around.   "do   we?   what's   your   major?"

𝕓𝕦𝕤𝕪 𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕦𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕚𝕟 𝕝𝕠𝕔𝕒𝕝 𝕥𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕤𝕝𝕠𝕒𝕟𝕖 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕤𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘

          ———      ⁂      ❝   I know I shouldn't say this but did Greer really have to pick this year of all of them? It's just like her to disappear right when our professors are deciding what advanced classes we get to take. Freshman would've been so much more convenient...   ❞ Quinn vented, clasping her glass of non-alcoholic rosé. She wouldn't say something so alarmingly coldhearted to anyone but Sloane— unless pushed. The pair had spent countless hours over the years privately shit talking their shared relative. It wasn't like The Golden Girl didn't deserve it. She had a part in making each of their lifes hell at times. Just as Quinn was about to talk, a waiter came over with menus. They said their thanks and she continued.

 ❝ Here I am going on about myself again. You don't care. How's film club going? ❞

artwork by @holly-warbs

[ID: Digital art that has been broken up into four panels. It is of a person wearing a long blue coat and blue pants with a green backpack, with long black hair and a pale face. They are reaching out to a white, translucent figure next to them. The background gives a vague impression of a field, and blue and purple night sky. White text has been added that reads, “Is it haunting? If I’m the one leaving open a crack in the window.” END ID]