#you like kissing girls

[brain-r0tten]

admit it

painting is magic kids it makes ur shitty lq sketch look good

[n3crom4ncy]

*deep booming echoing voice* GAY 🫵

[seducedwithlingerie]

Lingerie love

[v1rginsu1cidal]

[luckyyharms]

if anyone complains about no agathario I'm going to punch them in the face LOOK AT LILIA LOOK AT HER. SHE'S FINALLY FOUND PEACE WITH HERSELF ANDBHER POWERS. SHE HAS A COVEN. LOOK AT HER

(further rant in tags)

[icelogged]

[tiarpopdind]

The way they both fumbled makes me giggle

[henreyettah]

First tlt comic pls be kind to me

Edit: made a very minuscule change. Might take a trained eye to see it (hint)

[falafels]

kevin to neil in tfc

[uneasyallyofthebody]

she kissed a girl and kinda liked it?

[n3crom4ncy]

Idk why I'm making art while I'm sick but hey! I ain't complaining also sorry if the art sucks ass

[natalievoncatte]

“Lena?”

“What are you doing here?” Lena said, on the other side of the phone line.

Kara was already moving, lunging for the window, shedding her civilian clothes so fast she blurred into a streak of red and blue, the phone still mid-fall from where her hand had held it to her ear to the osprey cushion. She wasn’t thinking when she rattled windows with her passage. Less than a second later, the air snapped taught around her and burst with the cracking fury of a sonic boom as she bolted across the city in a ballistic arc that took her from her apartment to the upper floor penthouse office at L-Corp.

She was still too slow.

Lena was calling her name, her own phone flying from her hand into space as two men manhandled her over the railing into open air, almost six hundred feet up. Kara watched it happen in agonizing, hateful detail. She could hear every thudding panicked contraction of Lena’s heart even as she could count ever stitch in the side-seam of her dress.

Faster. Faster faster faster faster.

Any faster and she’d ignite the atmosphere around here.

Lena was perpetually falling, reaching up in a futile attempt to grasp the sky. Those thumping heartbeats came slow to Kara’s ears as she focused herself, time around her slowing to match her speed.

She has to do this perfectly. Hit Lena too fast and she’d kill her. Lena’s screamed stretched into a shrill endless peel as she fell, raw terror contorting her features.

Kara dove, slowing as she reached those last few millimeters of distance, forcing herself to match Lena’s speed, dipping under her so that the bewildered woman dropped into her arms and they further slowed together, Kara coming to a stop midair, half way down the length of her fall. Kara bundled Lena into her arms even as Lena clutched her in desperate fear, grasping and clutching at her in desperate fear. A wail of agonized terror exploded from Lena’s lips against Kara’s throat, followed by a taut cry of anguished relief.

“I have you,” Lena murmured. “You’re okay, I have you.”

Lena was shaking.

“They th-threw me off the balcony!”

They.

They.

Kara rose, cradling a treasure in her arms. They should have known better, these two thugs, these goons. To show her contempt, she blew them off their feet with a gust of air from her lungs. Tenderly, she placed Lena on her bare feet -her shoes had gone flying when she was tossed- and turned to her attackers.

One pulled a gun, the other ran. She crushed the crude little human weapon, so infuriatingly primitive and barbaric, almost forgetting not to pulp the wielder’s hand. As the other ran, she hooked her fingers in his collar and yanked, pulling him right back and over the railing. His scream satisfied something hateful within her and she wanted to stop herself from seizing his ankle, but she didn’t. The weight of the crest on her chest was too much to bear it.

She did let him dangle though, begging her for mercy.

Kara jabbed the comms in her ear and barked orders to the DEO agent that answered her. It wasn’t ten minutes later that half a dozen agents, led by Alex herself, were dragging the two men out of Lena’a office.

Lena herself was standing on the balcony still, shivering in the late night chill. Kara pointedly ignore the way Alex stared at them both as Kara unclasped her cape from her shoulders and threw the heavy cloth around Lena, bundling her up in it.

Oh Rao, her poor feet on the concrete.

Kara didn’t think. She picked Lena up again and carried her inside. Lena didn’t protest or even speak, as delicate as a precious baby bird in Kara’s arms.

“We can… we can deal with statements later,” said Alex. “I’ll step out.”

They were alone.

Lena just stared for a moment, as Kara opened the drawer in the coffee table and took out the fleece blanket that Lena kept there for naps or those frequent nights when she just didn’t go home, unable or unwilling to abandon her work for such pedestrian things as sleep, or her own health. Kara spread it across her, covering her feet. She just didn’t want her to be cold.

Kneeling beside the couch, Kara stroked a loose lock of wind-ruffled hair back from Lena’s eyes, forgetting herself, forgetting that she was the Super and not the Girl, right now. She couldn’t help it. The Super was stoic, unruffled, full of bravado. The Girl wanted to fucking cry and scream in agony and blessed release.

She was okay. Kara made it. Lena was okay.

Lena was staring at her.

“How did you know I was in trouble?”

The way she said it, it almost wasn’t a question. It sounded flat, half an accusation.

“I was with Kara Danvers,” Kara was about to say, but the answer died on her lips, the lie too bitter to cross her tongue.

She was so sick of lying, and the reasons why she lied all seemed so… hollow, here, now, and Lena wasn’t stupid. It was halfway there, Kara realized. She could see it in Lena’s bewildered, quivering expression. The thought was there, half formed, and once the suspicion was formed, it was only a matter of time. Their friendship was built on pillars of sand and the tide was rolling in right now.

“It’s me, Lena,” Kara whispered.

Lena’s eyes widened, as her nostrils briefly flared. Lena did not ask her to clarify, or explain. Her penetrating gaze merely searched, drinking in the details of Kara’s face in a way that made her feel both seen in a warm and comforting way and horribly exposed, the chill wind from the balcony door at her back. Yet the gaze was open, permissive. Kara noticed that one of her eyes was a little more blue than the other.

Rao, Lena was so pretty. She was beautiful, yes, in the austere almost untouchable way of a young powerful woman who weaponizes her looks, but that part of her was gone now, replaced by something open and vulnerable and soft, and usually reserved for Kara, not Supergirl.

Kara sat down in front of her, crossing her legs. She wanted to reach out and sooth the trembling she saw, her hand twitching of its own accord. Lena pulled the red fabric of her cape up and tucked it under her chin, making herself small.

“It’s you.”

“Yeah.”

“You caught me.”

“I always will.”

Lena closed her eyes. “I’m tired of falling. God I’m so tired of it, I just want him to leave me alone.”

Anger flashes in Kara’s chest, sending a jolt of heat up her spine as the red-sun fire burned within her, begging for release. She kept her eyes tightly shut.

A soft cry opened them again. Lena was crying silently in the manner of one used to hiding it, her chest hitching as she held it back.

“If it weren’t for you I’d be dead, Kara.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

Something tightened inside her, clutching so hard she could barely breathe. Watching Lena fall had been like… like looking over her shoulder and seeing the green flash. Kara had pinched her eyes shut and turned away, not watching the blast, screaming in agony when the blast wave tossed her pod, too afraid to watch her world die, unable to escape it. Sometimes that feeling would wash over her and tear her from the embrace of a dreamless sleep and she’d scream.

A soft, cool hand brushed her cheek. Lena reached out from the blanket and pushed away the errant tear. Kara couldn’t help herself, and returned the gesture. Lena’s skin was so delightfully soft, and whenever Kara touched her, felt her, it gave air to something like hot coals in her belly, and they’d threaten to become an unbound flame.

Something was happening here and she wasn’t sure what it was, but it was important. Kara had a sudden sense that this moment was a real one, an important one, and that she had just started bumbling through a choice that needed her full attention.

Lena was watching her, her soft intelligent eyes darting. Her breathing had calmed but she was agitated, heartbeat too fast, heat bloom crawling across her skin as her face flushed. A deep, powerful part of Kara woke up at the sight of it, something that she would normally have disdained had she remained on Krypton, a part of her that she might even have hated.

Her hand was still resting gently on Lena’s cheek. Lena met her gaze and shifted slightly, pressing a touch harder against Kara’s palm. It was an acknowledgement. It felt permissive, inviting. Lena tilted her expressions slightly and looked at Kara through her lashes.

She was scared, Kara realized. Scared but perhaps hopeful. Things began to swirl in her head. She could drown in the heady scent of an office full of flowers.

“You just keep saving me,” Lena said.

Kara rose to her knees so she could lean in, arching over her. This need, this impulse, gripped it like a firm hand on the back of her neck. It felt so wrong, so human, so Terran, but she didn’t care. For the first time she felt like doing this because she wanted it, not to make herself feel human or soothe some itch.

She hesitated every moment but Lena’s gaze remained fixed, a faint smile curling her lips as Kara drew closer, sliding an arm under her shoulders, very carefully pulling her up.

“I thought you were hopeless after the thing with the flowers,” Lena whispered. “Or maybe just regrettably straight.”

Kara wanted this to be right. She nuzzled her nose against Lena’s, one last tiny little request, and murmured, “is this okay?”

In response, Lena closed the gap and their lips met. Kara hadn’t felt like this since the first time she stepped off the ground into the open air. This was better than flying. Lena’s kiss was just so her, at once brash and hesitant, a question phrased as a declaration.

Before long Kara was holding her.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you. I won’t.”

Lena released herself; there was no other way to describe it. It was like their past hugs but more, Lena embracing Kara as though she’d like to be absorbed by her.

“I know.”

In the morning she’d pay Lex a visit. She’d talk to Alex and J’onn, make it clear that if the DEO wanted a Kryptonian on speed dial, it was time to make her priorities their priorities, and the first thing she was going to do was tear Cadmus out of their hiding places by the root.

It wouldn’t be enough to just hobble their operations, she wanted them gone. Supergirl would work in tandem with the Kara Danvers until Lex Luthor had no friends, no allies, no resources. Even the prison guard who smuggled him his caviar would learn that any largesse towards his prisoner would summon a furious Kryptonian.

She would call in every favor, seek every ally, use every resource.

Right now none of that mattered. Lena was safe, and she was in Kara’s arms.

[emaily44844]

Reblog if you like what you see,then we can have fun later 😘💦 💋

Do you want to buy my Dorpbox or google drive?

Do you want to buy my Dorpbox or google drive? Telegram@LoveEmaily

[v1rginsu1cidal]

I lost myself when I lost you *ೃ༄` ִֶ⊹.ೃ࿐

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Hi!! Your Cherik is so good and gorgeous 🤩🤩 If you don't mind wanna try to draw some Fall of X Cherik please?

thank you so much !!

i have a couple of ideas relating to the fall of x period specifically since theres. A Lot i wanna play with, so i hope this lil thing may be a satisfactory start :]]

and the obligatory bonus:

[inkskinned]

you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.

you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.

he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.

a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.

he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.

you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.

people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.

wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.

also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.

he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."

you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.

"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."

he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.

you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.

is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?

you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.