#or your self worth to be with them.

[usefulquotes7]

Someone who is worthy of your love will never put you in a situation where you feel you must sacrifice your dignity, your integrity, or your self worth to be with them. Unknown

[lilislegacy]

If you talk shit about Percy in front of Annabeth, she is going to annihilate every bit of self-confidence that you have ever been able to construct. She is going to defend Percy’s honor, degrade the living crap out of your existence, and make you - and every other person in the room - realize how he is superior and you are a worthless idiot. And she will do that all in the span of one single, cutting sentence. A few sharp and brilliantly cultivated words and you’ll feel nothing but foolish. She is going to utterly humiliate you, and you will be too embarrassed to ever speak in her presence again.

All with one sentence.

Now if you talk shit about Annabeth in front of Percy, he probably isn’t going to say anything. He doesn’t need to. Instead, he is going to give you a look. That’s it, just a look. A look that - accompanied by the radiation of his raw power and a sense of anger that rivals Poseidon himself - will annihilate every sense of safety that you have ever had the luxury of feeling. A look that makes your stomach drop, your heart beat out of your chest, your neck hairs stand straight up. You will feel nothing but unsafe. As if all the oxygen has been sucked from the room and your blood has turned to ice. His green eyes - dangerous as the ice cold raging sea during the most savage of storms - will suck every bit of warmth from your body in milliseconds. You will be too terrified to ever speak in his presence again.

All with one look.

[morgan-n-cheese-91]

old Obi-Wan is so funny to me because his sass and overall bitchiness is like the last thing he's got and I'm so proud it survived the great depression of his 40s.

[golyadkin]

I cannot express enough that if your reaction, as a hobby artist, to not getting that many notes on your art is to say "maybe I should just stop doing art altogether" you need to stop posting art to tumblr

not necessarily forever, not even for long, but just stop putting your art on here and start doing it for you again, remember why you enjoyed doing art in the first place and stop relying on the attention of faceless people on the internet for your enjoyment of your hard work

believe me, I get it, nothing crushes the artistic soul quite like labouring for hours on a piece only for it to get like 10 notes, so you need to find your own source of joy in the act of creation and a lot of the time that means making art and not showing it to anybody

[juiceicicles]

Steve having a sexuality crisis is all good angst and realistic writing, and Steve having known for a while and being confident and learned is great too, but I love Steve “just skipped the crisis part” Harrington.

Because really, who gives a shit if he’s gay when he’s fought monsters?

His best friend is a lesbian, and he loves her, so it’d be hypocritical not to accept this part of himself.

He’s had to protect his friends from mind demons with Kate Bush songs, this is not even a blip in the crazy shit he’s had to deal with.

One of his children friends has telekinetic powers and can go into your mind to figure out your location and save you from giant spider demons.

He almost died, everyone he loves almost died, who cares?

[hajihiko]

“oh no people tell me I have no sense of personal space and I'm a man and her unofficial coach what if I've been making her uncomfortable- and Akane is like nah. You're not gonna do anything to me I can feel it. Like hes the only person who can overpower her but he just uses that strength to be there for her” og my god. i need a minute after that ome. god i had a whole long winded analysis of this and i was gonna put it all here but i seriously have no words. this is so real in every possible way and a lil too relatable lmfao

ITMEANS A LOT TO ME OKAY. I too could rsnt but idk where it would go

[wordsinhaled]

Wild to me that photo-shoots like this exist and no one has yet written the AU where Charles has many outfits for Edwin to lose his mind over. But it’s about more than just the outfits, of course. It always is.

So... if I were to do it it'd be like this:

Charles’ history and childhood are the same, and he’s chock-full of confidence issues, anger, a profound need for validation. When he’s in front of a camera he can make that all disappear for a bit, and just be pretty.

But what is he worth when what he is isn’t pretty? When he’s full of spitting, incandescent rage so strong it scares him; when all he wants is to fight back against the people who hurt him?

He thinks it’s ugly how much he can’t stand his dad. How jagged he is inside. How much he wants to be loved and held safe. How deep he carries the shame for wanting to simply be admired, and for daring to think he could deserve it.

He learns his way around a cricket pitch because he has to. Because it’s the thing to do. The thing that’s going to get him the least hurt, at home and at school. But it’s not foolproof: He’s never quite one of the lads. Never quite the right sort of son, either.

Charles who saves up for ages for drapey, pretty things; lovely things; things that feel too nice and look too nice on him, and secrets them away because if his father or his friends find them he’ll be dead. Charles who finds a secondhand camera in a charity shop. Charles who takes secret photos in the middle of the night of himself wearing his secret clothes, photos in which he could maybe be the kind of person he wishes he could be all the time. Confident. Cool. Not just pretty but beautiful. Unbroken.

He stashes the photos even though it would be safer not to keep them at all. And maybe it should be enough just to know he took them. But some selfish and needy part of him wants the evidence, the physical proof. So he’s got this shoebox of photographs stashed under a loose floorboard in his dormitory room at St. Hilarion’s, and after he dies, he retrieves it before he and Edwin leave the school together forever.

He won’t let Edwin look inside the box, at first.

Charles doesn’t show up on film anymore, or in mirrors. He tries to keep it a secret from Edwin—that this might be the bit that hurts the worst about dying, the being invisible. But it’s harder to keep this a secret than other things about his past.

He doesn’t have to really actually say it. It’s the wistful glances that do him in, probably, the ones he fails to hide well enough. One day, with no preamble, Edwin presents him with a full-length mirror in an ornate frame. “We going somewhere, mate?” Charles asks. Edwin tells him no, this mirror is different. He’s enchanted it. “Look again, Charles,” he says gently. And Charles looks again, and realizes he can see himself.

And who the fuck is going to stop him choosing what he likes now, when he’s picking out his outfits for the afterlife? His cunt of a dad? The ignorant tossers who drowned him to death? Charles’d like to see any of them try.

It seems like it won’t be Edwin who stops him either—Edwin, who goes a little glazed round the eyes every time Charles draws up short to stare at a silk shirt in a highstreet window. Nah, Edwin Payne’s a bloody first-rate enabler of all of Charles’ base needs to feel worth it. Charles has got the best best mate in the world. He doesn’t say anything as Charles’ wardrobe slowly grows. Just smiles his little enigmatic smile, the one that's just for Charles with its tantalizing flash of teeth, and drags his gaze over Charles like he approves of Charles’ daring every time Charles wears something new.

So one day he shows Edwin the box. The photos. A month later Edwin brings him a vintage camera and a roll of spelled film. Offers to photograph him.

And Charles could cry. Could shake apart into tiny little pieces. He wants to be seen so fucking bad. By Edwin in specific. By Edwin, who wraps himself all up in tweed and pinstripes and flushes regularly at the sight of Charles’ collarbone. By prim and proper Edwin, who puts his hand on the small of Charles’ back and tells him to buy the silk shirt; that is why they get paid for taking on cases, isn’t it, after all? Port Townsend has changed him. Changed them both.

“We all have our pleasures,” Edwin says, and there’s that smile again, that raised eyebrow—and what does it mean? Charles wants to know Edwin’s pleasures. Wants to be one of them.

Can he be one of them?

There’s a tiny little thrift store in this little seaside town, crammed full of clothes Charles loves almost viscerally and just has to have - but he doesn’t try any of them on until they’re back home in London, in the familiar comfort of their cluttered, dimly-lit office. He digs the camera out of the bag of tricks backpack then, puts in the film; checks and rechecks that he’s put it in right.

One evening he sets the camera on the desk in front of Edwin, who is reading. Waits patiently for his attention to catch on it and for his curious eyes to lift to Charles’ face.

“Right,” Charles says. Past the lump of nerves in his throat and the phantom heat in his cheeks and the impending thrill of being looked at. “About those photographs. You asked if I’d...”

“Be amenable,” Edwin finishes for him, like he’s remembering their conversation precisely.

Charles wants to shrivel up. And he also wants to stand taller, prouder. Angle himself just right. Because Edwin’s watching him now, appraising, and the idea that he might like what he sees makes something unbearably good fizzle down Charles' spine. “Well, I'm. I'm a bit more than amenable, mate,” he says. His voice is a rasp in his throat.

“Are you indeed,” Edwin says evenly. He steeples his fingers. Like Charles is a case and he’s already solved him. Like Charles is one of his cherished first-edition detective magazines with a fraying binding and Edwin is going to fix him right up.

Maybe it'll be easy. Done in a flash. Or if not, maybe Edwin will be up for the challenge. Charles wants to find out which, more than he's ever wanted something in his entire short life and in his afterlife combined.

[flowercrowngods]

hi. go say something nice to your favourite writer(s). let them know they’re loved and seen and appreciated, and that their place in this world is not dependent on whether or not they’ve written anything recently. write that comment on that fic you’ve re-read for the fifth time just now. invade that ask box and give them some flowers in thanks. imagine a world in which they don’t write anymore, and be aware of the power that lies in kindness and genuine, random appreciation.

[actual-changeling]

hot take but the reason why beez and gabriel figured their shit out so quickly is because they both have a solid sense of who they are as a person and the relationships adds to that instead of threatening their sense of identity.

if, for some reason, they had landed on "yeah no we won't work" they would have been sad/disappointed/heartbroken, but ultimately beez is happy with who they are and so is gabriel. nina and maggie decided to NOT get into a relationship for the same reason, they respect themselves and each other enough to put personal growth and their mental health first instead of attempting to solve trauma responses and hypervigilance by making someone the turning point of their world.

aziraphale and crowley, on the other hand, aren't just dogshit at communicating, they have also build their sense of identity around each other and thus the thought of not being together automatically comes with a loss of personhood, trapping them in "i need them to live and will be destroyed if they're not with me". which is incredibly self-destructive and deeply unhealthy, and not a foundation for a functional relationship.

the solution to that is not to glue them together and call it a day, it's to allow both of them the space and grace to grow as individuals and develop a healthy sense of self so the relationship is build on mutual respect AND self respect.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

YES! JOIN ME IN THE DELCIOUS DUNGEONS!

[usefulquotes7]

Someone who is worthy of your love will never put you in a situation where you feel you must sacrifice your dignity, your integrity, or your self worth to be with them. Unknown

[stuckinapril]

so past the point of changing people's minds about me!! like i actually just realized today that i don't care. i am so much more capable of shrugging my shoulders at someone's preconceived notions of me than i used to be. throughout my life i will probably run into many a person who will have a negative impression of me that they will not be able to dispel (or will go out of their way to fuel for the sake of their confirmation bias or whatever it is). but i will also have the honor of meeting a lot of amazing people who won't do that and who will actually see me for who i really am and will affirm that w their thoughts and actions. so long as i know who i am, anyone who's willing to make the effort will know who i am too. and that's all that matters

[gearvmac]

➥ sir crocodile & crack-shot luna commission from @taco-tuseday

[firewolf111]

Projecting onto Roman time!

Janus: Are you okay?

Roman: I'm fine.

Janus: You know, for some reason, I do believe you.

Roman: *growing frustrated* Well, what do you want me to say?

Janus: The truth.

Roman: *chuckling* That's ironic coming from you.

Janus: *sighs* I didn't come here to fight, so if you could just-

Roman: Just what? Huh? You know what?! *throws hands up in the air* Fine. You want the truth?!

Janus: Yes. That isn't what I asked for.

Roman: The truth is that it doesn't matter whether or not I'm okay.

Janus: Yes, it does. I'm not sure why-

Roman: No, it doesn't. Don't you get it?! I have to be okay. I don't have a choice! I'm supposed to be their hero. Everyone thinks I'm so strong, well I'm not. I'm a weak coward. But the one thing being a coward has taught me is how to avoid my problems. How to just *snaps fingers* turn off my emotions. Place a glass screen between them and me. How to feel them without feeling them, like knowing something in the back of your mind without being aware of it

Janus: Because that sounds sooo healthy.

Roman: It's not. I know it's not. But I have no choice. I have to be their hero. I don't know how not to be. They never taught me how not to. It's all I ever was. It's all they ever expected from me. Whether they know it's what they expect or not, it has become my role. And if I don't do it, who will? Who will keep them safe? So what if it hurts? Life hurts. They hurt as well. They have their own problems, and I can help them with it. I have to. It's who I am.

Janus: *extremely concerned* Roman-

Roman: *continuing without notice* It's who I have to be. For them. I have to stay strong, even if I'm not. And I'm not. I'm really not. But I'm good at pretending. I saw they needed a hero, so I took that role. I didn't even realize I had taken the role at first. And now, now that I realize, it's my whole identity. It's the person I've become, the only value I have. It's all they know me as. And that's okay, because they need a hero.

Janus: That isn't okay. Listen-

Roman: I can be that hero. Their problems are worse, right? That's why they unintentionally forced me into this role. Because I dont have any major problems. So, who cares if I don't know how to fight for myself? I can fight for them. I'm their hero. I have to be.

Roman: *leaning on the wall, panting* It's who I am. It's my point of existence.

Janus: ... Oh, sweetheart. What have we done to you?

[galedekarios]

if you are genuinely out there claiming that gale "succeeded" in everything he "wanted" by becoming a god and that's why it's a good ending for him, you truly are a testament to the slow and steady death of media literacy congrats lmao

[sysig]

Softly, slowly, I want to love you anyway (Patreon)