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is anybody even surprised shes my fav companion.....

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I AM HAPPY SOBBING READING THIS <3

JUST

MY FEELS

I AM HAVING SO MANY FEEEEEEEELS

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<3_<3

There is no couple more UTTERLY PERFECT in the entirety of the Marvel universe

Also 'spit on the law' is not just the rule I live my life by

It should be the rule every LGBTQ person lives their life by :D

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Catra just enjoying being married to this dork ~ Join my Patreon for exclusive content. #catradora #sheraandtheprincessesofpower

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[Image ID: The Destiel confession meme edited so that Dean answers 'There's a petition to ban conversion therapy in the EU' to Cas' 'I love you'. /End ID]

If you are a citizen in the EU please sign this petition:

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was trying to explain the reading experience i had with harrow the ninth and ended up making this

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This post instantly gave me Griddlehark vibes, so I had to.

Bonus:

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Kommissar & Beca

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There's Aphrodite discourse on twitter, but now I've fixed her so we can all calm down

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my fav toxic lesbians 🪷

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fictober 22: “who takes care of you?”

(I know I missed Fictober completely but better late than never)

Written for @jon-withnoh just because they’re so good at writing soft Danny and Ich, and because I missed writing these two.

wc: 853

”Who takes care of you?”

It’s been rattling around in her head since the girl asked it. It disarmed her, though she knows she didn’t show it at the time. 

”I take care of everything, Madam. The staff, the house, every last detail, the way I did for Mrs. de Winter before she passed.”

”That’s all well and good, Mrs. Danvers, but who takes care of you?”

She’s not sure the girl meant to ask it. Not really. Certainly she knows the girl doesn’t care about the answer. It’s a rhetorical question, after all. There is no answer. Danny takes care of herself, she always has. Ever since she came to Manderley—before, even. A woman of her station has to be self-sufficient, and she knew long before she even accepted the position that there would be no husband, not for her. 

Once, she’d hoped the answer to that question might be Rebecca. But that was before Manderley, before Maxim de Winter, back when it was just the two of them and Danny was nothing more than a lady’s maid. And that hope died long before Rebecca did. 

No. No one takes care of Mrs. Danvers. She won’t let anyone get close enough to take care of her anymore, and she tells herself that is how things must be. If someone is close enough for her to ever show that kind of vulnerability, then something is wrong. 

It would be nice, though, a voice whispers in her ear, late at night when she’s certain she is the only one in the house still awake. Just once it would be nice, for someone to massage her shoulders at the end of the day, for someone to check if she’s eaten enough the night before a ball. 

You’d let the girl take care of you, wouldn’t you? But then, you’d want her to take care of you in other ways… 

She closes her eyes against the thought, and she tries to sleep. 

Months pass, and against all odds, she finds herself warming up to the new Mrs. de Winter. She is nothing like Rebecca, and in a moment of weakness Danny admits to herself that that is refreshing. She has none of Rebecca’s temper, none of her impulse to lash out—certainly she’s never seen the girl angry, not even for things she should perhaps be angry about. And she’s never seen Maxim this… domestic. 

It happens one morning, though looking back she cannot pinpoint the exact moment. She’s dusting in the morning room, and the girl is writing letters—she’s had far more to write, now, since the costume ball a few months back—when she hears one of the maids come in with a tray. 

It’s too early for tea, she thinks automatically, and then has to stop herself. It’s too early for Rebecca to have wanted tea, but the new Mrs. de Winter likes hers while she works. What really surprises her, is that when she turns to make sure the maid has set the tea in the correct spot, that there are two places set. 

“I thought Mr. de Winter was out this morning,” she says. 

“He is,” Mrs. de Winter says. “The other cup is for you.” 

“I’m busy, Madam.” 

“You can rest for five minutes, Mrs. Danvers,” the girl says, and there’s the steel in her voice which Danny has only heard a few times before, but which seems to be there more and more each day.. The girl is finally growing a spine. “I don’t think the books will accumulate more dust if you stop for tea.” 

It’s this small joke that makes Danny turn. There was a time only recently the girl wouldn’t have dared say such a thing in front of Danny, that she wouldn’t have even glanced her way. Now she is staring at her expectantly, her back straight, and she is sitting in the chair in the morning room and for the first time Danny does not think of it as Rebecca’s chair. 

Rebecca, who would never have asked Danny for tea like this, because it’s not proper. Because Rebecca was aware of their stations, the line between them clearly demarcated in a way Mrs. de Winter is either too ignorant or naive to see. 

Still, Danny sits. And she accepts the tea. 

“What are you doing?” she asks softly, as Mrs. de Winter pours. “And don’t say pouring tea. You know that’s not what I mean.” 

“I’m taking care of you,” Mrs. de Winter says simply. 

“Why?” 

“Because someone should,” she says. And with that she reaches forward and takes Danny’s hand, and Danny is too shocked to object. Mrs. de Winter begins gently massaging her palm, and Danny is so startled she almost pulls away.

Almost.

But she doesn’t. She lets Mrs. de Winter take care of her, because she is offering, because she is there. And because it has been far too long since anyone has taken care of her, and it might be nice—for a change. 

So many things are changing around Manderley nowadays, anyway. 

Why shouldn’t this?

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A Chicago-inspired "Rebecca Alternate Ending" video by Kara Lane and Lauren Jones!

"We've been sent so much fanfic from all over the world, and we've loved every single alternate ending! We thought we'd create our own. Chicago the play was first performed on Broadway in 1926, the same year Rebecca is set... Maybe that's where the similarities end... or maybe not!"

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why are wlw books so angsty and deep all the time like where is my casual wlw romcom or my fantasy lesbians, space bis and trans princesses like not every wlw has some lost love in some town in the middle of nowhere

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everything u need to know about me can actually be explained by the fact that i read that poem about the serving girl wearing the pearls so they're warm for her mistress when i was like 11 and it rewrote my brain chemistry forever

like this Changed Me

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Some gideon the ninith, arriving at canaan house

I cause tlt brainrot again.

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Look, I know facile trope inversion is for weenies, but I still really want to see a JRPG-style game where the shouty teenage boy who gives long speeches about the power of friendship is the fragile healer and the girl with the gentle piano-and-strings theme song and self-sacrificing “must save everyone” attitude is the melee tank. I don’t think I’m being unreasonable here.