They're My Motivation Currently

The Washerwomen of the Night (Les Lavandières de la nuit) (Yan' Dargent, c. 1861)

hi erin! noticed you forgot the captions so i made sure to add them for you 🥰

(this is the stupidest thing ive ever made)

HAHAHAHAHA

low quality spiderman pics because hes literally the baby boy ever

Just an edit I made not very good will probably make a better version

some arcane pirate au sketches

the trend of shrinking hans capon into a submissive, feminized “twink” is so regressive and creatively lazy. 

the idea that hans’ theatrics or needing rescue in-game automatically code him as a “bottom” is a stereotype literally rooted in misogyny. since when do drama, sass, or vulnerability—traits routinely gendered as “feminine”—equate to sexual submission? 

this is a really reductive take. it weaponizes patriarchal baggage to pigeonhole queer dynamics: softness = weakness, flair = passivity. it’s the same toxic logic that paints flamboyant men as punchlines or prey in mainstream media. 

capon’s theatrics aren’t a surrender of power. they’re tools of a cunning nobleman. queer history shows us that femmes and flamboyant individuals have always been leaders, provocateurs, and survivors—not passive accessories. reducing capon to a “bottom” because he’s extra not only severely misreads his character, but regurgitates the old and tired lens that equates femininity with inferiority. 

fans can argue it’s “fiction” and “preference” and “harmless fun”, but when these stereotypes dominate, they reduce gay men to hollow fantasies for straight and heteronormative audiences instead of fully realized people. personal preferences in fiction aren’t inherently harmful, but when entire communities default to flattening queer characters into hetero-adjacent roles… it reinforces the idea that same-sex relationships must mimic heteronormativity to be legible.

let characters be messy, loud, and authoritative without straitjacketing them into roles that confuse personality with sexual position.

In case anyone is having a bad night:

Here is the fudgiest brownie in a mug recipe I’ve found

Here are some fun sites

Here is a master post of Adventure Time episodes and comics

Here is a master post of movies including Disney and Studio Ghibli

Here is a master post of other master posts to TV shows and movies

*tucks you in with fuzzy blanket* *pats your head*

You’ll be okay, friend <3

I imagined Graves as Gaston and thought, "Damn, that means Graves and Ghost are enemies and the former is trying to kill love second, that can't be," and then I remembered the plot of the game.

Today in the shower I was thinking about how absolutely insane soap would be in a sleeping beauty scenario

Meeting you at the celebration of your birth, when he’s just a little boy himself. Markedly unimpressed. And yet, when you’re spirited away to live with your fairies— he feels strangely robbed.

He chases a fulfillment that cannot come to pass. A soldier in many battles, many quests under his belt, all in pursuit of purpose. A stray arrow tucks itself into his skull, and the emptiness grows more cavernous and hungry.

Then, to see a gorgeous thing like you dancing with his cloak, reflected crisp and clear in the pond water of the glen… he’s just a man. Maybe something less, actually. But even if he is a beast, doesn’t he deserve to live?

He delights in how you nearly scream when he pulls you against him.

“Ah’m no stranger, bonnie. Ye said yerself, nae? We met before— jus’ in yer dreams, hen.”

He has half a mind (in more ways than one) to pin you to the forest floor against your precious wildflowers and ravage you senseless, but he’s able to restrain himself when you say you want to see him again. Tomorrow, in the same place. He likes this little game of courting— the wait is bitter, but the fruit is sweet, isn’t it?

And he felt it, when he was with you. The pinpricks of a doll maker’s needle gliding between his ribs. Suturing the tear left in his chest. He’s done being rearranged inside. He’s ready to be put back together.

Thus, the lengths to which he goes to find you. The thorns that bruise and tear, the dracofire scorching his shield.

He’s going to kiss the sleeping princess if it’s the last thing he does.

If you guessed Athena you were correct ✨💜🫶🏾

Michael A Davenport, 3,090 Degrees Fahrenheit (Oil on canvas, 2025)

30in x 48in