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I’m signed up for one sad soup and spice girl romance. Please go read The Beast of Hadingley Hill by @squigg-les.

Juliette remembers her nanny’s stories. When she was six or seven years old, her nanny would comb through her curls and tell her about her hometown; the warm breeze, crushing waves and what it’s like to plunge under the saltwater. Little Juliette could not understand how longingly her nanny talked about swimming in the ocean. How there is nothing that saltwater could not solve. It sounded magical but in a good way rather than the trap they are in. Her nanny whispered, “The waves would marry you, my little Jule. It would wrap you in its arms and love you every bit.”

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That was the last time Juliette believed anyone could love her. She quickly learned how to be hated and abhorred. Afterall, Juliette was a bright child, perhaps too bright for her own good. Little Juliette wondered how anyone’s skin would crawl by looking at her when no one looked at her long enough. Glimpses were like daggers and barbs finding their ways under her skin despite of being covered from head to toe. She made sure to cover anything that could be her. She used to go to bed in her veils and gloves hoping she could become her second skin. She’d imagine her life as veils and gloves would be much lovelier, being touched and caressed everyday. 

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Once she was considered old enough, a line of suitors started. Juliette could not sleep the night before thinking about meeting her ‘true love’. She tried to imagine him and their first meeting. What would happen? Would he steal her breath away? Would he hold her hands and tell her that he loves her? Would the barrier disappear? Would the barrier disappear and free everyone? Would he free her from everyone who looks at her like an abomination?

Day after her first sitting, Juliette found herself without a lady in waiting. Lying in the middle of the destroyed room, Juliette wanted to be carried out of the palace with all her destroyed furniture. She wanted to be far away from where she is something that needs a royal command to be loved. Barely gazed at, Juliette sat through boys gritting their compliments at her. Her musing the night before was unnecessary. What she should have worried about was how to hold herself in one piece while sitting across from her suitors. She made back to her room because that was the only thing she could do. She didn’t remember exactly but she remembered a woman’s shriek among the sound of her room being destroyed. And Juliette could not have shrieked because last night she wasn’t a girl but a thing that deserved a name; a beast. A thing that deserved hatred.

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Juliette built a routine for her new ladies in waiting and herself. There is no befriending or instructions until Juliette unveils herself. Some left right away, either by themselves or carried out. Some stayed but never too long. None of them deserved Juliette’s attempts to be honest. Still not sure how to communicate her care for others, Juliette’s kindness was overlooked, wasted on the undeserved bunch. Whatever language Juliette spoke with embarrassment, Mallory understood. She understood every syllable and every dialect.

Mallory didn’t just stay but made a new life in the castle. Mallory made it her job to make sure Juliette was taken care of. Yes, it is the lady in waiting’s duty to do so but anyone who saw Mallory with Juliette can tell that that kind of gentleness is not a duty. If anyone witnessed them in private, when the storm rages and rages around Juliette, they would believe that magic is not just in the barrier but inside of it. When Mallory laid Juliette’s head down on her lap, what can it be but magic? What can it be but magic that centers Juliette.

She thinks the whooshing of silence heard from her right ear on Mallory’s lap is the closest thing she will get to the ocean. Her nanny used to make the sounds of waves crashing. Born with the barrier, Juliette never knew what the world can offer. But again, if Mallory can hold the ocean under her skin, what could the world possibly offer Juliette? The very ground under her feet becomes more stable and the sunlight that lays on her skin doesn’t inspire her own horror. Juliette is more eloquent with her love and care. It still comes out in a rush sometimes but she is more confident in voicing her care for Mallory. Juliette is a fast learner and this too, she excels. Juliette wants to be fluent in loving and maybe if she can take Mallory out of the barrier, she can even imagine loving a suitor. Whatever it may take, Juliette would do it with every bit of her for Mallory.

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🎵 Let's get rich and build a house on the mountain, making everybody look like ants

From way up there, you and I

You and I 🎵

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Mirandy:

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Spring in Paris

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Andy: Miranda texted me “My love, I am intoxicated” and five minutes later Nigel texted me a photo of her, passed out, phone in hand, and zoomed in on one of my selfies.

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Andy: [trying to flirt] So, you come around here often?

Miranda: This is my house, so yes.

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[texting] Cassidy: Time sensitive question: how to flirt with a boy? Andy: Throw rocks at him. Caroline: Hot dog. Miranda: Kill him. Cassidy: Thanks guys.

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Emily: I want my daughter to be kind, but I also want her to know she can throat punch someone if she needs to.

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im not scared of my own desires. i sabotage myself to make sure i never get what i want for unrelated reasons.

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I wrote something! It's the longest story I've ever finished, and I hope you enjoy it.

Featured in this fic:

-fantasy AU - you can probably read this without even watching the movie and not miss much

-oblivious, naive lesbian Andy and her sometimes painful, sometimes joyous journey of self-discovery

-powerful, mysterious lesbian Queen Miranda

-elemental magic

-a whole lot of sexual tension

-more mutual pining than you can shake a stick at

-the happy (sexy) ending our poor pining lesbians deserve

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Nigel: “Person of interest” is almost too flattering.

Nigel: Like, if the police were to pound on my door and go “A man has been murdered in your building and you are a person of interest,” I’d be like, “Moi? Oh, do go on.”

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it’s giving #lesbian your honor

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diane neal as casey novak 7.08 | starved

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Miranda: Do you want to explain the text you sent me last night? Andy: It was autocorrect. Miranda: Autocorrect wrote "You're so hot. Please step on me."? Andy: Yes.