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Concept (for a fic of the 1939's wizard of Oz): Glinda turns the wicked witch into a frog during a fight, but nobody else knows. The witch hunters are looking for Elphaba but Glinda hides the truth, and ends up growing attatched to Elphaba who is now way more vulnerable, and they eventually become besties.

#the Wizard of Oz #the wizard of oz #the wicked witch of the west #glinda #gelphie #wicked?

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The best part of having a dog named Jack is being able to look at him dramatically and go ,,Sie müssen fort, FAVELL. Man darf Sie hier nicht sehen!‘‘

#one day he's gonna stand up and tell ypu #no need to panic danny #maxim is in london just like you said #nobody will see me unless your new “madam” is spying on us #and then he will eat his dog food like nothing happened

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Give me a party where Dracula, Carmilla, Hyde, Frankenstein's monster, and every other monster from gothic literature are there just interacting and doing silly stuff

#i think abt it a lot #carmilla is Dracula's granny btw #also bonus if Hyde transforms into Jekyll mid party and has zero idea of what's going on #whatever ships or whatever are up to ya'll I just like to imagine their friend group #Frankenstein #frankenstein's monster #dracula #carmilla #jekyll and hyde

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Good luck, babe! Is the most Velma x Roxie coded song there is out there

#come on #you can't tell me roxie doesen't go in bars and make out with people to avoid thinking abt her feelings #bc she's a closeted lesbian or whatever #someone animate thos pls #good luck babe #chicago #chicago the musical #roxie hart #velma kelly #velma x roxie #lesbian #fanfic idea #fanart idea

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First image of a project that will be posted in early June if all goes well. Here's a sneak peek with Rebecca, Danny and Ich (drawn in the style of artist symphony_sonata, whom I really admire). @gwouinaelle @aliesafenlock

#QUEENS #love them #artstyle made me giggle

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Fwiw the comic in question is in fact, made by a gay man

#nah it's not abt sexualizing gay ppl #it's abt stereotyping poly relationships #with favoritisms and stuff #also the whole comic is uh... cringe #and author is kinda... questionable and writes porn abt real ppl

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Platonic Erikstine... Save me...

#hear me out #i don't like the ship for obvious reasons but #if erik hadn't kidnapped her and manipulated her their teacher/student relationship would have been fucking awesome #kind of more like cherik but without mommy issues #he would invite her to have tea at his lair at fridays #also he's a raoulstine/megstine supporter and will motivate her to give the first step when she has a crush #the phantom of the opera #erik #christine daee

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Happy Eclipse Day! We are having a total solar eclipse here in the US (96.5% coverage where I live), and I can’t think of a better post to celebrate with than this gorgeous HD video of Susan Rigvava-Dumas singing “Total Eclipse of the Heart” in Budapest.

For @neednottoneed @callmekamel @gwouinaelle @luvdegreen @skjonnet @alicesbread and anyone who might love her. 🌘💖🎶

#SCREAMING #she's so #❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Nobody's talking about how Glinda called her "Elphaba" at the beginning of defying gravity (when she was mad) and when she softened she inmediatly switched to "Elphie". It's canon that she calls her by her whole name when she's angry.

#if friends why do they act like a married couple #elphaba #glinda #galinda upland #gelphie #wicked

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I'm honestly curious about how Elphaba and Glinda's friendship changed the point of view of other people on them. Did Glinda become another "freak" and lost all her popularity? Or did Glinda keep some of her social status, therefore giving Elphie a better reputation and making people stop bullying her? Maybe they both ended up in the middle of the social pyramid? Idk

#elphaba #elphaba thropp #glinda #galinda upland #gelphie #wicked

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WYM THEY TOOK DOWN THE REBECCA WIEN VIDEO FROM YT 💔💔💔💔💔

#rebecca #rebecca das musical

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Ok but why isn't Carlotta x Madame Giry a more popular thing, come on people.

#i've read a couple of fics #but most of them are just sex #like damn let my lesbians have their drama and love and stuff for once #honestly middle aged lesbians slap #the true rivals to lovers #extra if by the time they become friends carlotta apologizes to christine and now they're all a happy family yippeee #and piangi well uh #he's uh #dead #anyway #the phantom of the opera #madame giry #la carlotta #carlotta giudicelli #Carlotta x madame Giry #lesbian #ship

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Honestly, I feel like Suyin and Kuvira's relationship was made very lazy in the show. Suyin said Kuvira is "like a daughter to her" but this was just never shown. At all. She didn't hesitate to fight her, barely tried to convince her to stop invading land, tried to kill her in her sleep, and didn't even feel bad when they captured her, she was just angry. With Bataar Jr she inmediatly forgave him, but it looks like she didn't care at all when it came to Kuvira. Their relationship is just too distant to be motherly in any sense, and that's why I like the comics so much. Still, they should have added more to their relationship, and made Suyin at least A LITTLE BIT heartbroken that her "daughter" had became a dictator. And in the comics she should have apologized too.

#tlok #suyin beifong #kuvira #kuvira tlok #the legend of korra #ruins of the empire

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Hi! For the Danbea ones, how about Beatrice taking care of Danny's burns/injures post fire?

Thank you for this prompt, Anon! I had a lot of fun with it. This turned out a little darker than anticipated, so please be aware that the following content notes apply: mild gore, self-harm, burns, brief descriptions of wounds (not graphic). You can also find this piece on AO3 as The Ashes in Her Wake.

The body lay on its side, crumpled where it had abruply lost its strength. It was half concealed behind an old lilac bush just beyond the low wall that had once demarkated the kitchen gardens. It was morning now, it would have been light if the sky had not been dark with smoke. Turning her back to the crumbling shell of her childhood home, Beatrice fell to her knees. Behind her, the house was burning still, the inferno contained to a few final flickers of flame. The very brickwork was radiating heat. Beatrice’s forehead was pearling with sweat. She reached out her hand to the body, gripping it by the shoulder and turning it over. 

The body’s face held no surprises. Beatrice had known who she would find here, who she had set out to look for. There was no mistaking the sharp profile of the woman, the striking lines of her nose and jaw, her cheek-bones hollowed out by grief. The skin, so sickly pale before, had flushed a deep red, had turned a rippling purple where the flames had lashed at her again and again. Swallowing bile, Beatrice put her fingers to the side of the woman’s neck. Her pulse a feeble stutter, breath so shallow Beatrice could barely feel it against her hand when she brushed it against the woman’s face. 

She would have to question herself, Beatrice knew. She would have to reckon with what she had done, but not now. Not like this. There was no time to be gentle. She prayed that Danny was too far gone to feel the pressure of Beatrice’s hand closing around her arm, slinging that arm around her shoulder and lifting her from the ground. Staggering, Beatrice rose to stand. Limp in her arms, Danny’s body was barely more than bone. Her dress had burned away in places and where it hadn’t the fabric was singed and frayed. Legs burning with the effort, Beatrice took step after step away from the house that had once been Manderley. 

She had parked a long way down the road. She had seen Favell’s car there before, cleverly hidden in a clump of trees. One day she would forgive herself for copying him like this. By the time she wrenched open the rear door of the car, Beatrice was gasping for breath. She lowered Danny’s body onto the backseat, carefully bending Danny’s legs and cushining Danny’s head with her own jacket. She made her way to the driver’s side and with one last glance over her shoulder collapsed into the driver’s seat. 

She drove too fast, too recklessly, praying that the early morning would protect her. Who would be on the roads this time of day? Who would be driving away from Manderley and not towards it? Rebecca’s face flashed in front of Beatrice’s eyes, Rebecca as she had been years ago with her thick, dark hair pinned up. She thought of Danny’s muttered insistence, the muted prayer she had never been meant to hear. If you truly are watching, she thought, you better make sure no one’s following us now. 

*

The call had come around four in the morning. It had been her sister-in-law on the phone, calling from Crawley’s office. There had been no trace of emotion in her voice, the flat, dead tone of someone who had seen too much to feel. Giles had been by her side at once, ready to do whatever she needed him to. She had needed him to stay where he was. To man the phone, she’d said. They would need a place to stay, Maxim and his young wife. She needed air, she’d said. She wouldn’t be long. He need not worry. 

In a distant corner of their estate was a hunter’s cottage Beatrice had fitted up for herself. It was Rebecca’s boathouse, she was ashamed to say, that had given her the idea. It was more of a hut, really, a cobblestone structure with one room and an outhouse. She had never spent more than a day out here, had never taken anyone with her. This was were she brought Danny. It was a roundabout journey with the car, another breathless treck through the woods with Danny slung over her shoulder. She was moving now, muttering and wincing. She was not quite awake. That, Beatrice knew, was a mercy. The pain would come soon enough. 

She opened the door to the hunter’s cottage, lowered Danny onto the simple bed that stood pushed against one wall. Beatrice went around the room, drawing the curtains. She had brought a bag of supplies from the car. There was nothing in it that could help Danny, not once she’d truly woken up. Water and squares of clean cloth to cool and bandage the burns. A note she took and left next to Danny’s head. 

I will be back by nightfall. Do not leave the cottage. 

You are safe here. I forgive you.

B. 

The sentences clipped and useless and true. Beatrice bent down. She ran her hand over Danny’s hair. A few strands broke off in her hands. Beatrice felt sick. She straightened up, clumps of Danny’s hair sailing to the floor. 

“Whatever you do,” she told the woman who could not hear her, “don’t you dare die. Not after I broke my back bringing you here. At least have enough decency for that.” 

*

Giles was by her side before she had even stopped the car. He opened the door as soon as the engine had stilled. He reached inside, half guiding, half lifting her out. Whatever he had seen in her face would not allow him to chide her for taking so long. He knew where she had been. He would have known even if her clothes had not smelled like smoke, if her eyes had not still been watering with it. 

“It’s gone,” she said. Her voice was brittle. “All gone.”

“Maxim?” Giles held her to his chest, his arms trembling. “His wife? The staff?”

“All safe.” She broke off, coughing. “All except… they say they don’t know where she is. The housekeeper. Apparently she resigned just yesterday. Packed all her things and had them taken away. They don’t know if she got out.”

“God. What did Maxim say?”

“I couldn’t get a hold of him. Crawley says they must all have been asleep when it started. It’s a miracle no one was hurt.” 

She drew back. At once, Giles put his arm around her waist. She leaned against him as they walked to the house. Reid was waiting by the door, Williams a few steps behind. Giles waved them away. He led her to the library, then went and fetched her a cup of tea. It was not until she had settled back on his favourite armchair and taken her first sip that he asked: “What do you need?”

She could not reply at once. It took the first cup of tea and half of the second to say: “Time.” 

“I will take care of everything,” Giles said. “Leave it all to me.” 

He sat on the armrest of her chair. Beatrice leaned against him, heart beating fast as she thought of the woman in the woods who might be dead, might be dying. Giles’s hand came to rest on her hair, brushing gently back and forth. Beatrice closed her eyes. 

*

There was no light in the cottage, no gap in the curtains Beatrice had drawn so carefully. Dread rose in Beatrice’s stomach as she knocked on the door, then opened it and stepped inside. Pain pulsated beneath the bandages around her left palm. She carried a new bag of supplies with her other hand, setting it down next to the door. 

Danny lay where Beatrice had left her. She did not lift her head as the door opened and closed. Beatrice’s heart leapt to her throat. She had waited too long. She had come too late. Then she heard Danny draw in a breath. 

“Who’s there?”

Beatrice rushed to her side. “It’s me, I’ve come back. I’ve brought supplies too, and morphine.”

Her hand throbbed with pain. Her whole body had recoiled at the thought of pressing her hand to the hot metal grate in front of the fireplace. She had bit her lip bloody in anticipation. Giles had been gentle, concerned. Reid had furrowed her brow. They had brought a salve and bandages, morphine when they’d seen the red welts on Beatrice’s palm. 

I was checking the fire, Beatrice had said over and over again, distraught. My hand slipped. 

She knelt by the low bed, repeating what she had seen Reid do to her hand. It would not be enough, could not be nearly enough to treat the damage Danny had done to herself. Danny’s eyes were closed. There was a sheen of sweat on her forehead, burnt hair sticking to skin. She was shaking with pain. Beatrice knew at once when the morphine had taken effect. Danny’s hands unclenched on the covers. She let out a sigh, following by a long, ragged breath. Then she went very still. This brought Beatrice close to panic again. Had she given her too much?

Danny opened her eyes. She did not seem able to focus on Beatrice, instead fixing her gaze a little to the left of Beatrice’s head. Her burnt lips stretched into a tight smile. “You came back for me.” Her teeth were stained red. 

“Yes.” Beatrice took her hand, attempting to clean the weeping wounds with a clean, wet cloth. 

Danny’s eyes fluttered closed, then opened again, her hand clenching around Beatrice’s. 

“You came back,” she repeated. Beatrice could hear the catch in her breath, the effort of each syllable. “You came back. My Rebecca.” 

Beatrice flinched. She followed Danny’s eyes again, still fixed on that point near her shoulder. There was a lump in her throat, a wild urge to drop Danny’s hand and leave her here to rot. Danny coughed, a volley of short hacking sounds. She was already beginning to shake again. 

“Yes,” Beatrice said. “I’m here. I’m here.” 

#OH MY GOSH. #so beautifully written #you absolutely nailed it #the ending made me cry but it's ok i forgive you/hj

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#that's me taking her on a date btw #crazy bitch i adore her

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Thinking about the book I'm writing and about how nobody can make fanfics/fanarts of my characters because like. They don't exist yet. I've created them. There isn't a fandom of my book and that's just sad.

#the day jane doe died #when i publish it like two people will read it but it's worth it #it has fanfic potential i promise ya'll #it's very rebecca-ish style story #writing #young author #young writer #original character #original story

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Ok so extension of the story. Glinda (probably had a name like Ophelia or something similar in her Kansas alter ego) was a neighbour of Dorothy, Miss Gulch and the rest. She works in a bakery and is a very nice and open middle aged lady who loves animals and baking pies. She's known Miss Gulch for more than 20 years, and they always go to each other's places to have tea and biscuits and talk. Also they're gay but nobody (everyone) knows and they end up moving in together.

We all know Mrs Gulch is technically the Kansas counterpart of The Wicked Witch of the West. Then what if the equivalent of Glinda in the real world is Mrs Gulch's wife??? And like Dorothy doesen't know they're married, but does know that they live together (that's why she pictures them both as the witches of Oz) and knows Gulch is lowkey a bitch, while her wife is always so nice and caring so she subconsciously assigns the roles that way?? What if Glinda is just a little pretty lesbian motherly wife?? In this essay I will-