#Julia honey

[bipanicoverthegravessiblings]

Sooo…..that progress report huh?

[pinkrangersarah]

expectation:

reality:

[bethanydelleman]

Why I am NOT an Austen Heroine:

-If I was Anne Elliot, I would have married Charles Musgrove in a heartbeat just to get away from my family

-If I was Elinor Dashwood, I would have ugly cried when Lucy Steele told me she was engaged to Edward until I couldn't breath

-If I was Fanny Price, I would have married Henry Crawford just to get away from Mansfield Park

-If I were Elizabeth Bennet, I would have probably just said yes to Darcy (highly loss adverse and very concerned about my age)

-If I were Emma, I wouldn't have lasted until Box Hill to insult Miss Bates. It would have happened years ago and far more often

-If I were Catherine Morland.... oh... at 17? Oh... yeah, girlies I would totally accuse my crush's dad of murder because I was reading too many Gothic novels...

I AM a Jane Austen Heroine

[sketchy-julia]

Redrew some BoJack fanart I did back in 2018

[bananahkim]

@wingstobetorn

Tyrone’s ocs and mine too! Plus Tom

[brightyearning]

some notes on Leave the World Behind (mild spoilers ahead) :

Ethan Hawke and Kevin Bacon are practically the same person. I wasn't entirely convinced otherwise until I saw them side by side.

I'm always gonna be on Ruth's side. bc why are we sleeping in the basement of our house? after we've proven our identity? on the second night?? i literally could not focus until that was addressed, like bffr. and all she wanted from her dad was a little reassurance and solidarity and he essentially sold her out to be coon to the racist entitled white woman who's still a little jumpy around him.

which brings us to Amanda. i think it's very telling that it took the end of the world as she knew it for her to acknowledge how awful she is.

G.H. act like you have some fucking sense. please.

Rose is a girl after my own heart. you better believe I'm following the signs into my own little slice of heaven.

[the-final-sentence]

Top Final Sentences of 2023

He knew that on the day of his death he would see her face and he could hope to carry that beauty into the darkness with him, the last pagan on earth, singing softly upon his pallet in an unknown tongue. Cormac McCarthy, from The Passenger

And there are so many silences to be broken. Audre Lorde, from “The Transformation of Silence into Language and Action”

For Guinevere Tallow, it felt like coming home. Ethan M. Aldridge, from Deephaven

And we laughed and held each other and filled our hearts with the faith that we could always do that, always blow away the clouds that threatened our stars. Andrew Neiderman as V.C. Andrews, from Honey

But as anyone who loves reading and writing quickly learns, both activities allow you to commune with the living and the dead, to listen to the thoughts of those who have come before you and argue, cajole, and sing praise for them in response. Kaitlyn Greenidge, from “Books for a Black Girl’s Soul”

The greatest shame would be to reach the end of our lives and have the epitaph read, ‘They worked really hard.’ Roxane Gay, from “Yes, Your Job Is Important. But It’s Not All Important.”

The sky is gory with stars, like the insides of a gutted night. Julia Armfield, from “Salt Slow”

Sometimes, even in towns built on curses, at least once in a blue moon, things turn out okay. Ryan Douglass, from “Knickknack”

Eventually, if we speak the truth to each other, it will become unavoidable to ourselves. Audre Lorde, from “Eye to Eye: Black Women, Hatred, and Anger”

In the distance, the darkness has started to lift like a veil, the first light of dawn spilling over the Beijing skyline, a promise of all the beautiful and terrible and sun-soaked days to come. Ann Liang, from If You Could See the Sun

[ladynicte]

Andrew Graves is an insane man because what the hell do you mean that out of all the girls in the world he chose to date the best friend of the girl he and his little sister murdered

[mixvillainousandtcoaal]

Julia would be a candy person in your au? I can imagine xabier being some kind of Spicy candy person who has a bad feeling about the graves.

I really like the concept of your au!

I'm glad you liked it!❤️

Yes, Julia will be a sweet person too, I'm still planning her concept, I don't know if she'll try to participate in the investigation or if she was just a lucky victim, what do you think she should be?

Although the harassment about Ashley still happens, the harassment would also be about Julia being a complete Sweet, but I'll explain later when I post about Julia.

It seems like Xabier will have a lot of work to do to protect Julia from the Confectioner siblings.😅

Unfortunately I don't have any colored pencils at the moment so you'll have to imagine the colors until I buy colored pencils.😥

[teabiscs]

low effort, low quality, chaotic yuri, shitpost

regina is just happy to be here, while the other two lesbeans share a moment

[lgbtqreads]

Queer Book Sale Roundup - July 7, 2023

eBooks The Darkness Outside Us by Eliot Schrefer (m/m YA sci-fi, $1.99) Running with Lions by Julian Winters (m/m YA contemporary romance, $1.99) The Daughters of Izdihar by Hadeer Elsbai (Sapphic adult fantasy, $1.99) Silver Under Nightfall by Rin Chupeco (queer epic fantasy, $1.99) Out on the Ice by Kelly Farmer (f/f contemporary sports romance, $1.99) Every Heart a Doorway by Seanan McGuire…

[whats-in-a-sentence]

Julia. Nay, would I were so anger'd with the same!

O hateful hands, to tear such loving words!

Injurious wasps, to feed on such sweet honey

And kill the bees that yield it with your stings!

I'll kiss each several paper for amends.

Look, here is writ 'kind Julia.' Unkind Julia!

As in revenge of thy ingratitude,

I throw thy name against the bruising stones,

Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain.

And here is writ 'love-wounded Proteus.'

Poor wounded name! my bosom as a bed

Shall lodge thee till thy wound be thoroughly heal'd;

And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.

But twice or thrice was 'Proteus' written down.

Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away

Till I have found each letter in the letter,

Except mine own name: that some whirlwind bear

Unto a ragged fearful-hanging rock

And throw it thence into the raging sea!

Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ,

'Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus,

To the sweet Julia:' that I'll tear away.

And yet I will not, sith so prettily

He couples it to his complaining names.

Thus I will fold them one upon another:

Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will.

William Shakespeare: The Complete Works, The Two Gentlemen of Verona (Act I, Scene II)

[bloodngames]

[mystephaniewilderuniverse]

Remembering Dilworth

Fresh eggs from BMHC $6 We had dinner last night at a new restaurant in Hendersonville with our dear friends/family members, Jamie and Bryan. Bryan always likes to be the first to try a new restaurant, shop, or resort, and this place just opened up, so we drove an hour to eat dinner. We have been tight with these two ever since my kids were little and they lived down the street in Dilworth and…

[hairmetal666]

Eddie owns a record store, gets to talk about music everyday. Life is good. Great, actually.

He's consolidating the Christian rock section on a quiet Wednesday morning when it happens. A man with swoopy dark hair, tight dark blue jeans, and a plum Member's Only jacket walks in, and doesn't take his Ray Bans off even once he's solidly inside.

Eddie is awestruck. This dude is gorgeous. Heart stopping. He watches him browse in quiet astonishment, unable to say anything until he blurts, "Can I help you find something?"

The man smiles--Eddie's heart stops--and he says, "Nah, just browsing. Your sign caught my eye."

And he's still not quite with the program, the rich honey of the man's voice taking him totally by surprise. "Ah, oh, it did?" He manages after a few long beats. "Painted it myself."

"No shit? It's great."

"Thanks, man. I also think it's some of my finest work."

The guy laughs. "How can I know unless I see some of your other pieces?"

Eddie's face heats, but he's never been known for having good impulse control. "Maybe you'll get lucky."

Spots of pink bloom on the man's cheeks and the tips of his ears. "And here I was, thinking I was getting special treatment."

Eddie cocks his head, smiles big. "Well, the day's still young." It's so risky and stupid; no way this guy is queer, but he grins at Eddie, laughs a little too.

"That right? Well, tell me your latest recommendations."

"For you?" Eddie eyes him up and down. "Wham!"

The guy's laugh is warm and rich and Eddie wants to drown in it. "Big of you to say for a someone who's only listened to Enter Sandman for the last four months."

Eddie cackles, points a be-ringed finger. "It's a good song! A great record."

"Hey, I've got no problem with Metallica. I just don't think you should be casting aspersions on Wham!."

"Casting aspersions, do you have a word of the day calendar or some shit?"

"No! It's toilet paper."

Their snickers grow until they're both hysterical, needing to lean against a display to stay upright.

It's like he's living in a dream, hitting it off with a beautiful man who just happened to stumble into his store. They catch their breath and Eddie uses the time to grab a record off a nearby shelf.

"Here," he says. "Try this."

"Joni Mitchell?"

"Don't tell me, Wham! fan, that you're too cool for Joni."

"Nah, she's my best friend's favorite. How much do I owe you?"

"On the house," Eddie shrugs.

"Shit, that's generous. Thanks, man. Now, about your art--" He glances at the shiny watch on his wrist. "Fuck, is it really 3:15? Goddamnit, I gotta get going."

And Eddie wants to call him back, doesn't want this dream encounter to end, but he's dashing to the door--

And just like that, the man is gone, the only evidence it ever happened the lingering chime of the bell over the door.

The bell clatters again, and his head wrenches up hard enough it hurts his neck.

"Was that Steve Harrington?" the customer shrieks.

"No," he scoffs. Except. Except. The hair and the clothes and sunglasses and the face and his lips--

"No!?" He feels the way his eyes have gone wide with panic. He didn't just flirt with Steve Harrington. Of course not. Not ever. He would've recognized--

He runs to the racks of magazines in front of the register, grabbing the latest issue of People. The cover features a glossy, polished photo of the man who just left the store. The one who had the highest grossing movie of the summer alongside his co-star, Julia Roberts. The one who, according to the article within, is in Chicago right now shooting a new movie. The one who Eddie flirted with. The one who flirted back.

He groans and covers his face with his hands. At least he'll never see Steve Harrington again.

---

Harrington comes back.

The second time, he's wearing a jewel blue polo and fitted slacks, Ray Bans nowhere to be seen.

"Got anymore recommendations?" Steve asks.

"What?" Eddie's still trying to accept that Harrington came back.

"I finished Joni. It was good. Recommend something else for me."

Fully with the program, he reaches to the rack behind him, handing the vinyl to Steve without ever taking his eyes off him.

"Seriously?" Steve deadpans.

"Tell me you don't deserve it after last time."

Steve studies the cover of Metallica, a complicated look on his face. "Fine, but you have to listen to the album George Michael released last year."

He mimics getting shot in the heart. "After my magnanimous first suggestion, you dare to punish me with Freedom?"

"Think of it more as an opportunity."

"To regret every decision I've ever made?"

"To expand your musical horizons."

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Fiiiine. It's a deal."

Steve beams. "Good! Ring me up."

And Eddie, he'd comp it again, but Steve gives him this look that tells him not to try it.

As they pass the magazine racks, Eddie points at one featuring Steve on the cover. "That thing you wore to the Vanity Fair party last month was hideous."

Steve snorts, then laughs. "Thanks. My stylist decided to go for something--"

"--terrible?--"

"Avant garde."

"Oh, is that what they're calling it these days?"

Steve pays, throws Eddie one last smile, "next time?"

Eddie nods, already certain this time is the last one.

---

He keeps coming back.

Eddie tries not to read into it.

Steve is straight, famously has a girlfriend. former horror movie child star turned cinema wunderkind, Nancy Wheeler. They're always on the covers of the tabloids, in ever more improbable stories about affairs and secret babies and french countryside weddings.

But he keeps coming back. And eventually, they grab dinner. And that dinner becomes lunches, movies, clubs, concerts. Eddie's in paparazzi photos, and there's no speculation about their relationship. Steve has a girlfriend.

But sometimes. Sometimes Steve will rest his hand on Eddie's nape, his lower back, let it linger. He'll trace a finger down the tattoos on Eddie's forearms or the patches of his battle vest. He'll lean too close when they talk, unafraid to press their bodies together. And he catches Steve's eyes on his mouth more than once, his pupils wide.

Over the next few weeks, Steve's gaze on Eddie's mouth gets hotter, his looks longer, and it's killing him. All he wants to do, all he ever wants to do, is close the distance between them, appease the gnawing beast of desire in his chest.

But Steve has a girlfriend.

They don't talk about her, not even when he knows all about Steve's best friend, Robin, and the gang of kids who adopted him, or Joyce and Hopper, his surrogate parents. Never Nancy.

He tries not to read into it.

---

They're supposed to meet for dinner. Steve scored reservations at a trendy new restaurant, but Eddie's late. Astronomically, horrifically late. It's pouring rain, it takes fifteen minutes to get a cab, traffic is a nightmare.

Out of patience and time, he decides to run the last few blocks to the restaurant. By the time he reaches the building, he's soaked to the bone, spluttering harsh breaths through mouthfuls of rain.

Steve is walking in the opposite direction, hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat.

"Steve?" He calls.

He turns and this is the first time Eddie's seen him angry. "You're late," Steve's eyes rake over him, and his face softens in an instant. He takes Eddie's wrist, leads him into an alley where the buildings are close enough to block some of the rain.

"What happened?"

"Traffic."

Steve's gaze go all soft and gentle, and Eddie's knees buckle a little. "You look like a drowned rat."

"Yeah, well." Eddie scoffs. "We can't all be beautiful movie stars."

"You're more beautiful than I could ever be, even soaking wet."

He shakes his head, ignoring the cascade of butterflies; Steve shouldn't say things like that. His vigorous movement sends wet strands of hair slapping him in the face.

Steve reaches out, softly brushes it back.

Eddie stops breathing.

Steve closes the distance between them.

What a thing, to be kissed by Steve Harrington. What a terrible, glorious thing.

He breaks it fast, face red, can't catch his breath. "Nancy," is all he can say.

"Nancy?"

"You have a girlfriend."

Steve's face scrunches. "She's not my girlfriend."

Eddie's mouth drops. "Yes, she is." They went to the Oscars together.

"Eddie." Steve takes a few steps back. "Eddie. I'm gay."

He laughs, an ugly honking thing. "C'mon. What could she possibly get out of that?"

Steve's eyes widen, eyebrows reaching his hairline, mouth pursed in a bitchy line. It takes Eddie a minute but, "Ohhhhh. So, it's all--?"

"It was the best way."

"But you're--?"

"I thought you clocked me immediately! Wham!???"

"That was because of the jacket!"

"Have you ever met a straight man who dresses like I do and likes George Michael??"

"That describes five dudes I see a day!"

"And you thought they were straight??"

Eddie stares into the middle distance, replaying some of those interactions, and--"Huh. Okay. I get hit on at work waaay more than I realized."

"For fuck's sake, Eddie!" He's shaking his head, but Eddie sees the way the corners of his mouth shake with suppressed laughter.

"I'm sorry! You have a very public straight relationship!"

Steve giggles, pulls Eddie close. "Is this okay?"

"So okay."

"You do like me back?"

"Are you kidding! Thought I was going insane, how much I want you."

"And now?"

"Come back to my place?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

And Eddie, he's seen Steve playing at love dozens of times, but this--right here, in a soggy, smelly alley where they're both soaking wet--it's more perfect than any movie.