#'it's a greedy selfish love just don't care about the world above / let the voices echo on 'cause your reflection's all i want'

[lvllns]

"seasons & narcissus" by bastille is a solas and lavellan song send tweet

[metaltea]

I'm getting another wave of self-hatred and feeling like everything I make is disgusting and low-effort compared to the amazing stuff other ppl make SO in order to combat this in a healthy and productive way, if I can't currently make myself better I'm going to try helping other ppl feel better.

Longass post beneath

. Create. The world wants to see what you make, no matter if it's "good" or "bad". If you don't try, you may never make something that you're going to love.

. As a follow-up to that, Nobody knows exactly what you want to see, so draw it, sing it, write it, whatever.

. Even if what you create appeals to only a very very small audience, it can mean the world to someone.

. If you consider yourself bad at writing/drawing/etc, guess what?? It'll make other ppl who feel that way realize they aren't the only ones who don't make conventionally "good" stuff. Because of this, just continuing to make things can help someone feel inspired to create, as it doesn't feel so impossible as when they compare themselves to ppl who are super well-known.

. No matter what, it's okay to just create stuff for yourself. Be selfish. You only have one life and it's much too short to give a damn about the minute details.

. It's okay to be cringey. Word mash. Make all the pointless, low-effort AUs bc they're fun to you. Again, who fucking cares? Live and enjoy yourself. You can't take back the time you lose worrying about fitting in.

. It's okay to feel bad sometimes. You need to let yourself feel bad when you feel bad. It's. Okay. Constant positivity can be toxic as well. It will pass and you'll feel so relieved.

. You're not lazy when mental health takes a nose dive. The society we're in fosters things like depression/anxiety/etc, and these emotions are your brain screaming out against it. It's unfair. It's greedy It's cruel. Therefore, don't be cruel to yourself as well. You're fine as you are, no matter how many bad days come.

. You're not any less interesting than anyone else. Everybody has a level of depth about their character that most people will never know simply because they don't know you well enough. You're not plain. You're not annoying. You're you, and you're enough.

. The horrible shit you've gone through doesn't define you, but it also isn't something you have to bury forever so you can put others' unhappiness above your own. What happened happened. It hurt you. You survived and you grew but the marks remain. You don't have to deny that to yourself. Your scars aren't beautiful but they're not ugly. It's only the effects of healing, be it mental, emotional or physical.

. You don't have to make yourself create to remain relevant. You're never going to be "enough" for that voice in your head. Take breaks. As long as you need. The inspiration will come back, I promise.

. It's okay to be scared, to be uncertain of the future. The world is terrifying. Breathe and know it will pass.

. Some people will never accept you no matter how you change. There are people who will accept you and love the absolute shit out of you as you are, and those people are worth the wait to find and the effort to keep.

. No matter what, what you create does not define you. Your appearance doesn't define you. Your intelligence doesn't define you. Your talent doesn't define you. People cannot be defined because they're infinitely changing.

You are you, and that is enough.

[allegra-writes]

“Golden”

Peter Parker x SHIELD Agent! Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut and fluff

You wake up in Peter's arms.

Part of the "Fine line" series, but you don't need to read that to understand this.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Peter woke up to the smell of your coconut shampoo and the feeling of sunshine on his skin, your warm weight tucked into his side, and for a minute it was summertime, and he was back on a desert island alone with you. 

But it wasn't summer anymore, and you were no longer the only two people in the world, as he was reminded of as soon as he opened his eyes and saw the angry bruises on your, otherwise lovely, naked back. You had sneaked into his bed well after midnight the night before, battered and exhausted after your last mission, hair still wet after your shower. He had held you, laying awake in the dark for hours, hating the fact that he couldn't help you. He didn't have enough clearance to even know what you were up against, but he suspected it was a little bigger than his usual Queen's thugs. And you didn't have superpowers, or super-healing like him. But that wasn't going to stop you.

Now, in the morning light, he was blown away once again by how brave you were, how badass and brilliant. He had always known you were too good, that you shone way too bright for a broken boy like him. But you had spoiled him too much, made him too selfish to be able to let you go. So he kept holding onto you, his own personal sun, basking in your glow, letting you brown his skin just right. 

He placed a soft, barely there kiss on a bruise at the back of your shoulder, and another one right on your spine. And another one, lower on your back when the rhythm of your breathing changed as you stirred under his ministrations. The first thing you were aware of waking up was his smile against your bare skin.

You sighed in contentment,

"Peter?" 

He chuckled softly,

"Who else could I be, cherry?"

A pair of ocean eyes flickered through your mind's eye. You shook the thought quickly. You tried to turn to face your boyfriend, but his hand on your hips stopped you. 

"What are you doing?" You demanded. A yelp left your lips when his only answer was a piercing bite on your left butt cheek. He quickly soothed the sting with his tongue, sucking and massaging your supple flesh until he felt you relax. He parted from your skin to reach towards the headboard, grabbing a pillow and bringing it down until it was next to your hips. 

"Turn around for me, baby, on your stomach" He requested. You obeyed, laying there, on your belly, butt up in the air supported by the pillow underneath you. Defenseless and exposed, all for him. 

"What are you going to do to me?" All the sleepiness was gone from your voice, as you tried to get a peak at your boyfriend above your shoulder. 

"I wanna take care of you" He replied, hands trailing up and down the back of your legs, "Will you let me take care of you, sunflower?" 

You nodded your surrender to him, and felt his hands push your legs apart. He settled between them, greedy fingers digging into your thighs. Gossebumps broke on your skin at the first lap of his wicked tongue on your folds, twin moans leaving your lips, but for very different reasons.

"I'll never get over the way you taste" he whispered against your skin, "you are delicious, baby girl… I wonder if you're this delicious everywhere…"

You didn't have time to think about the meaning of his words, as he dove right in, sucking and licking, working you so expertely that it only took a couple of minutes before he could slide two fingers inside your wet, velvety heat, easily, your body offering no resistance. 

You were putty under his tongue and teeth and fingers, trying in vain to muffle your sobs against the mattress, hands clutching at the sheets when you felt it: Soft, moist lips, reverently kissing your tightest hole. Your hips jumped of their own volition, and he had to bring down one of his forearms across your lower back to keep you in place, pinned to his bed. 

"Pe-peter!" Your scandalized voice, your sudden shyness, felt like a triumph. You had been his first everything, but now, he had found something new to you. Something you hadn't done with anyone else, and he knew to you it didn't mean much, 'the first is just the one that comes before the second' you had said once, but to him it meant the world. He did it again, and this time there was no disguising your moan when his tongue came out, placing little kitten licks on the firm ring of muscle. His thumb flickered your clit, and you relaxed again, allowing him to bury his face deeper.

"Just like that, let go baby girl"

There it was again, your new nickname, the title that had once belonged to him, when he was still a clueless, eager boy, desperate to please, but never disciplined enough to be a good sub. Didn't matter, he knew now how to please you, even in ways you didn't even know yourself. Confident enough to be demanding, to take control. And you trusted him enough to give it to him. 

You stopped resisting, releasing the tension you didn't even know you were keeping, melting completely into the bed. His arm stopped holding you still, now free to trail tender touches along your legs, your butt, your sides. He flattened his tongue, placing a long lick, from where his fingers kept disappearing in and out of you, all the way to the top of your ass. 

He continued to kiss along your spine, mindful of your injuries, crawling up your body. He chuckled softly at the little disappointed noise you made when you realized it was over, even before his fingers left your softness to help support his weight. 

"You're perfect, Sixteen," his warm breath ghosted along your neck, "everywhere"

Peter rested his forehead on your shoulder as he sank his length into you, effortlessly, naturally, without even needing to use his hand to guide the way. 

Like pieces of a puzzle falling into place. He didn't need any Island, that right there, your body under his, was his perfect oasis. He started rocking his hips, gyrating them in an out in an eight figure, fucking into you deeply but delicately. There was intensity in his movements, force but no aggressiveness, no violence, as he owned you in a completely new way. He kept his weight off your back, careful of not aggravating your wounds. The drag of his cock so deep, so measured in his movements, let you feel perfectly every ridge and vein, electrifying you and the friction on your clit against the pillow still under you, were creating a whole different storm of sensations.

"Please" you begged, brokenly, "Daddy, please"

He growled, loving the way the word sounded from your lips.

"What do you need baby girl?"

But you could only repeat the same plea over and over again, your vocabulary limited to those two words as Peter fucked your brains out in the most exquisite, careful way in the universe. 

"It's ok baby girl… keep on begging… love the way you beg" His voice was husky, letting you know how close he was too, "Love the way you take my cock… love the way you taste" his tongue came out once again, tasting the drops of sweat at the back of your neck, sending another wave of pleasure crashing through your body.

"Love all of you, Sixteen…" his lips found the shell of your ear, as he came undone inside you, "I love you"

It was all it took. You came harder than you ever had, the strength of your grip around him triggering a second release, his high pitched moan resonating in your ear. Peter collapsed next to you on the bed, under your astonished eyes, your heart pounding inside your chest too hard for you to rest. You should know better than to take seriously words said in the heat of the moment, you knew you should. But this was Peter, the boy that wore his heart on his sleeve for all the world to see, even if that world didn't deserve it. The boy that remained soft, and good and warm like the sun, even after all the suffering, all the loss, all of fate's attempts at suffocating that light.

"Your heart is beating so fast, it sounds like a hummingbird" He commented, lazily opening his eyes, and his arms, "Come here"

You inched closer until he could wrap his strong arms around you, tucking your face into his neck. You were scared, he could tell, probably thinking he hadn't really meant it. Or, much more likely, to the intensity of your own feelings towards him. Because there was no denying the way you had fallen apart the second the words left his lips. 

"I meant it." He whispered into your hair, "You don't have to say it back if you're not ready, I know you feel it too. And I know you're afraid, but you don't have to..." 

You raised your head, meeting his eyes. The morning light casting them in a golden glow, like sunshine through a glass of whiskey. He was beautiful.

"I won't break your heart, Six. I promise"

And for a moment, you let yourself believe him. For a moment, there, laying in his arms, cocooned by daylight, you let yourself believe you wouldn't break his either. 

 To be continued...