#girl has feelings

[bokettochild]

Fable hijacked some shit

she's worse than her brother, help!

[justbackgroundnoise]

Chappell Roan, a lesbian, went on a national broadcast tonight and performed a song about dating a closeted woman who refuses to acknowledge their relationship and denies the fact that she’s a lesbian. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that happening but here we are and it’s amazing.

As a lesbian woman, to have an artist go out and be so entirely herself in every way, to be so proud of her own sexuality and to perform a song like this and have it be broadcasted to millions of people…it makes me so emotional. All I have ever wanted as a queer woman is to have this sort of unabashed representation and we’re finally getting it in such an incredible way. What an era we are living in and all I can say is long may it continue and I am so proud to be a Chappell Roan fan.

[nokkayy]

you can’t figure out why he doesn’t like his new shades (made with love!)

continuation of this post

(urbanshade mandated closeups)

[datcravat]

DMG

[clouvu]

yknow what. *undooms your yuri again*

[mamaclownhunter]

Ok I lied I have art that was too fun not to share

Listen- I need combative “I hate you bro but I would also die for you” platonic cumplane

I need Shang Quinghua calling Shen Quingqui a hussy and a harlot

I need Shen Quingqui to respond with a full bodied cathartic “bitch” I need them to be venting out frustrations every 2 seconds and ruthlessly gossiping the next. I need them to immediately turn on anyone that talks shit on the other.

Pls for my health.

[heartorbit]

figure skating set right now please. thanks

[stars-obsession-pit]

Danny got out.

Danyal al Ghul was created by the League of Assassins alongside his brother Damian.

Created, not born. Though they were both grown in the same lab, Danyal always felt the status quo. Damian was the heir, the real son, the one they cared about. Damian got to be a person, the one for whom human terms like “born” would fit.

Danyal was just the extra. The bodyguard to die in his brother’s place and a spare should he be lost.

And Danyal died.

Shed his old life like a snake’s skin and vanished into the bustle of a crowded city.

They would tell Damian it was a mission that went wrong. A failure, like Danyal always was.

But Danyal would call it his first real success.

Danny Fenton loves their new life.

Jack and Maddie, for all their unsafe work practices, care for them. That’s far more than their blood “family” in the League ever did.

Far more than they felt they deserved for the longest time.

So when their brother reached out, tried to reconnect as if they were normal siblings instead of born tools, is it any wonder they lashed out, told him to never come back?

Danny got out. Danyal is dead, one ghost Danny is happy to put down forever.

[araneapeixes]

in the bathroom at the gay clubbbb

[hairmetal666]

They start kissing on stage as a joke.

The night before the first time, they're at an afterparty, pounding shots, and Eddie is reading aloud a piece that just came out in Rolling Stone. "'One of the most noteworthy parts of Munson and Harrington's unlikely pairing is their chemistry on stage. It's like these two men--one on his way to being the latest metal god, the other an indie rock wunderkind--are two parts of one musical whole. Their singing, their playing, even their bodies twine and flow with assuredness; where one goes, the other follows without question. They share a single brain-cell and that cell is music'."

Steve giggles, pours some more Grey Goose into the glass. "If they say that now, could you imagine what would happen if we, like, kissed on stage or something."

"What the fuck, Harrington?" Eddie splutters, having just thrown a drink back.

"I don't know, other bands do it!"

Eddie snorts. "I'm cutting you off." He reaches for the bottle and the suggestion is forgotten for wrestling over the liquor.

Steve barely remembers it in the morning. Doesn't think about it at all as he gets ready to go out on stage.

They're playing one of the instrumental breakdowns when it happens. They're leaning into each other, Eddie smiling over his shoulder at him, their eyes locked, bodies moving together. "You wanna?" Eddie mouths at him.

Steve nods before the question actually registers and by then Eddie's warm, soft mouth is against his and he just-- completely forgets what he's doing. His hands still on the guitar strings, and he melts a little, going completely boneless when Eddie grips the back of his head, pulls him deeper into the kiss. t's over almost as quickly as it started, Eddie pulling away and swirling to the mic to start the next verse.

The kiss sinks into Steve's bones, and that's before it becomes a regular feature of their performances. After that night, they're never at the same time during the show, all initiated by Eddie, all over before he can catch his breath; each one chaste and surrounded by people but somehow more intimate than any make out.

He and Eddie, they're friends, bandmates, collaborators. They've known each other since they first started out, forging an immediate connection with they stumbled upon each other hiding out in the garden at some industry bigwig's party. And as much as he loved his friend, never once in that time had Steve considered wanting Eddie.

But now, now he falls asleep with the ghost of Eddie on his lips, goes into each show with a thrum of anticipation, catches himself thinking how beautiful his friend is when he's all rumpled and disheveled from a night in the tour bus bunks.

They've always been easy with physical affection, but once the kissing starts they're constantly in each other's space, idly playing with hair, laying across laps, heads on shoulders, twisting together on the tour bus couch. Steve is ruined with every touch, every moment; he can't get enough.

The first time Eddie uses tongue destroys every last piece of Steve's composure. They've added a new song to the setlist, a remixed version of Eddie's hit "Prince Charming". It's hard, heavy, sexy, one of Steve's favorites. And in the middle of it, right in the middle, Eddie shoves him against a low platform, kisses him like he's trying to own him, tongues twining eager and wet and full of sinful promise. It's like that every show after, Eddie kissing him deep and thorough, like he's trying to lick up every drop of Steve.

He is, unquestionably, fucked. Unquestionably falling. Can't properly fathom how he'd gotten himself here, desperate for Eddie's kiss, as performative as it may be.

They're packing up equipment after a show. Eddie's hair is piled in a messy bun and Steve is trying not to blatantly stare at the curve of his neck, the stray curls against his pale skin. Eddie's gesturing at something, says, "Can you grab those cords, swee--Steve?" He hands them over without thought, notices that Eddie's face is shining red. He's called away to deal with packing the guitars, forgets all about it, but at their next show, Eddie doesn't kiss him.

They don't talk about it.

Eddie doesn't try to kiss him again.

A week after Eddie stops the kiss, they have a night off between shows. He needs to get out of his head, goes out with Robin. He gets back fairly early, but all the lights are off in the bus. It makes him panic in a way it shouldn't; they've always done their own things. Still, he rushes on board, flips on the lights, his absurd heart beating too hard.

Eddie is curled up on the couch, face pressed to the pillows and covered with his hands. The panic kicks up a notch.

"Eddie?" He steps closer, slowly reaching out to grip Eddie's shoulder.

He jerks upright, earbuds slipping free, phone sliding down his hip. "Steve?"

His face is wet, tears actively slipping free from his eyes as Steve watches.

"What happened? Are you hurt?" His hands flutter around Eddie's arms and face, searching for bruises or wounds.

"I'm fine, Harrington," he chokes out. "Though you were out with Robin?"

"Yeah, I was, but Chrissy called. You know how useless she gets. But that doesn't--you--you're crying. What's wrong?"

Eddie's smile is a wobbly little thing, refusing to stick on his face. "Oh, you know, the usual. Fell for the wrong guy."

Steve forces down the gut churning hurt at hearing that Eddie's in love with someone, intent on comforting his friend. He tries to slip his arm around Eddie's shoulders, but Eddie shrugs him off. It jostles Eddie's phone again, slipping it toward Steve and activating the screen. He has a split second where he's looking at the cover of his own first album, before Eddie's snatching it out of reach, scrambling up from the couch.

"I'm fine." He swipes his sleeve over his face. "It's nothing."

And Steve is putting it all together, the being in love and listening to Steve's music, the kissing and how it ended.--

"Eddie." He sounds all wrong, choked and garbled.

Eddie doesn't turn around, is stuffing his feet into his boots. "I'm--I gotta go clear my head."

He walks towards the door and Steve just--"I've been obsessed with you since the first kiss," he says. Eddie stops, hand curled against the door. "We've been friends all this time and I didn't--I never realized. And then we kissed and--it's all I've been able to think about."

Eddie turns then, facing him, expression unreadable."Steve, what are you--"

"I love you. I'm in love with you." It comes out fast, all jumbled, but he can't stand Eddie leaving, not now.

"You--?" Eddie blinks, bites his lip. "That's not possible."

Steve smiles, can't help it. "It is, though. Turns out, I can't get enough."

Their eyes lock; neither speaks. Steve's heart pounds so hard it might spring free of his chest. Eddie moves first, crosses the small distance between them to pull Steve into his arms.

It's not a kiss, but Steve buries his face against Eddie's neck, breathing him in, feeling the echo to the pound of his own heart. "How long?" Steve asks.

Eddie's soft laugh vibrates through him. "Since I saw you walking in that garden and thought, 'jesus christ, Prince Charming is real'."

Steve pulls away to stare at Eddie in disbelief. "But that's--your--the song?"

"They're kinda all about you, Stevie. But that one most of all." Eddie whispers. His eyes glisten.

"Fuck, Eddie." He doesn't mean to whine, but he's not in control of his voice anymore. "I'm sorry I didn't--" He shakes his head. "I'm all yours, Ed. Whatever you want."

Eddie's thumb catches against Steve's bottom lips, eyes transfixed on his mouth. "Everything, sweetheart. I want it all."

[watermelinoe]

why is it "this is what happens when you tell white boys they're devils :(" when it comes to the white male alt right pipeline but no one calls for empathy for uneducated right wing white women. what about the high school girl to isolated stay at home mom pipeline. where is their loneliness epidemic

[technically-human]

Can you draw something with Doom Patrol!Edwin and Netflix!Edwin?

Maybe something about Dp!Edwin talking about his feelings for Charles with N!Edwin?

It's just something I've been thinking of, make it a little angsty?<3

Glad you asked

ko-fi

[nightthinker-08]

I couldn't sleep so I drew some Pomnies shes surprisingly fun to draw lol Oh and some doomed yuri too I guess xD buttonblossom is cute n all but calling them doomed yuri or digital yuri is a lot funnier to me

[mixmangosmangoverse]

If you ever needed to know the extent of how the I/P conflict is fandomized, there is a popular post going around with a Sailor moon sticker saying Free Palestine and all the comments are talking about how it's their aesthetic and they totally need to buy it

Because this doesn't matter to them, it's just the cool hip and trendy thing

[invisible-pink-toast]

one of my favourite genre's of music

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

ghost horses

GHORSES