#like go awayyyyy go away!!!

[snarltoothed]

hhh had to switch to a different progestin and ofc a cystic zit appears. please let this be an adjustment thing and not a “levonogestrel specifically will not stop your acne” thing

[sasukesofficiallawyer]

Someone please come and kill my father. Shut him up. Please. Please. Please. I am going to jump out a window. I can’t deal with this shit.

[elysiuminfra]

i wonder how he felt after the fact

[unicornsaures]

have any of you heard that "And the rattlesnake said i wish i had hands.." audio because if kimya dawson starts getting widely recognized i think im going to start throwing things

[fryknave]

auuuugh i wanna play haunting ground but stalker games always make me so nervous

[beeapocalypse]

abella+o'saas party dialogue has ruled so far. despite her opposing all of his philosophy concerning how important it is to Not Be Weak and to carry yourself through only your own strength she still tries to goad him into checking out some of the fiction books at the bookstore

[a-pirate]

One of the worst parts of abandoment issues is knowing that nine of the ten times they're triggered you're not being ignored/abandoned and yet you still feel like that.

[sundere1181]

Idk if it’s an autistic thing or what but whenever someone tells me abt like, a wound or injury or shows me (a picture, the actual wound) I can like, feel it? In the same place on my body? It’s not pain but it’s not comfy either. And today I was scrolling thru tiktok and a video prompted someone to type in the comments the time they pressed hard shaving their legs and a whole bunch of skin came off and I have been freaking out for like TEN MINUTES NOW because I can FEEL IT on my leg and I can see it in my minds eye AND IT WONT GO THE FUCK AWAY

[veganmikehanlon]

i can’t believe i’m a whole adult that’s going to have a baby and my acne is this bad like bffr

[lilac-melody]

Eughhh.

[lecl4]

think again — insta au

summary. everyone’s so sure about the fact that you’re dating your best friend, to that you say; think again. warnings. none? (i think) pairing(s). lance stroll x fem!reader, lando norris x fem!reader (platonic)

fc. scarlett leithold

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, essere1655 and 457,198 others

landonorris P6, points on the board, pizza shapes in the bag which equals a happy y/n & i. Good days.

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yourusername those things made me sick

↳ landonorris no one told you to eat 3 bags of them

vroomvrooms robbed of driver of the day

l4ndo.n y/n and lando confirm your relationship challenge

↳ mcnorris they’re just friends mate

f1grlie great race landooo!!!!

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, leclrcc and 6,429 others

yourusername AusGP

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papayacarz oh to be in the mclaren garage

↳ oscrpastry a girl can dream

smooth55 you>

landonorris …

↳ yourusername stop being weird

forzasixteen angel

yourusername

liked by chloestroll, lilymhe and 10,184 others

yourusername <3

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lilymhe has someone stolen you from me??

↳ yourusername never!!

f1nation omgomgomg

y/nsfav you’re insane for this

lando.jpg

liked by lance_stroll, lnfour and 193,485 others

lando.jpg Two iced matcha lattes please

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formulay/n THEY WENT ON A COFFEE DATE

yourusername can confirm that chai lattes are in fact, better.

↳ lando.jpg …not so sure bout that

russell.grge lando’s jpg account > life

yourusername

liked by landonorris, lance_stroll and 23,651 others

yourusername my love❤️

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lance_stroll ❤️

angely/n HARD LAUNCH OMG

mclrn.4 NO FRKN WAY

y/nloves so cute wth??!!🥰

landonorris sappy

↳ yourusername go away norizz

lance_stroll

liked by estebanocon, claireannestroll and 109,237 others

lance_stroll ❤️

view all comments

str18 🥹🥹

wags.f1 cuteeee

yourusername omg what is that pic😭😭

↳ lance_stroll beautiful.

↳ landonorris kinda cute but i’m also throwing up

↳ yourusername OMG lando go awayyyyy

note. had the overwhelming urge to write something about lance ( i wrote this like months ago but wtv, posting it now )

another note. this is my first post btw, kinda scary but fck it we ball

hope you liked this one!👋🏼💋 bye babes

[cuubism]

@prismaluv I promised an actual eon ago that I would write something for Dream and Desire, and here it is, though I fear I haven't landed exactly where you were aiming for...

--

It has come to Dream’s attention that something is… wrong… in the Threshold.

It is not usually for him to take note of his siblings’ affairs. Particularly when said sibling is Desire. He would sooner let them wallow; perhaps it would teach them a lesson. But the malady, or irritation or scheme or whatever it may be is now seeping into the Dreaming, and so Dream must determine if it is intentional or not and what, depending on the answer, he must do about it.

The Threshold naturally shares a border with the Dreaming, for, to Dream’s chagrin, dreams and desires do find common or contested ground in love and ambition and other feelings besides. And those desirous dreams have been sickened. Corrupted. Dreamers see their lovers’ ravening maws and wake nauseous from what should have been visions of lovemaking; children’s songs curdle mockingly in their ears as light expands beyond joy beyond pain beyond burning. These dreams are not serving their purpose and Dream must put a stop to it.

“Sibling,” he calls, and receives no reply, but the Threshold allows him in, when he steps from the border of his realm into Desire’s.

The long pathways of Desire’s body are empty as ever. A mockery of blood vessels pumping nothing. Dream walks the known paths, alert in the silence, past the lungs with no breath, to the heart with no beating.

He steps into the curving chambers of that heart, the center of Desire’s power in the Threshold. His steps echo on the hard walls.

“Mmm,” comes Desire’s voice, slurred with malaise, echoing from deeper within, “come to gloat, have you, brother?”

“I have come to determine your purpose in poisoning my realm,” Dream says, following their voice. “I warned you not to toy with me again.”

Desire lets out a disgusted sigh. “Not everything I do is about you.”

“Recent events would suggest otherwise.” Dream finally reaches the central atrium of the Threshold’s heart. Desire is sprawled out on a chaise lounge, head pillowed on their arm. Their eyes are closed, their clothes wrinkled and ill-fitting, their hair lank. They appear to be wearing Despair’s ripped and stained jumper. Dream frowns.

“Go awayyyyy,” Desire complains. “Leave me to my misery.”

“What afflicts you?” Dream asks, standing over them. “Or are you simply experiencing remorse for your crimes, at long last?”

“‘Afflicts’,” Desire mutters, mockingly. “I am being persecuted and abused. Abandoned. Wasting away in apathy.”

Dream sits delicately on the arm of a chair by their side. If there truly is something wrong, and Desire is not just being melodramatic, or trying to annoy him, then they must take action. He will not allow the Dreaming to be harmed. “I fail to see how it could be persecution and abandonment at once.”

“Have you not seen them, Dream?” Desire complains, finally cracking one bleary golden eye open to look up at him.

“Seen whom?” Dream asks, with what he thinks is admirable patience.

“The people! Nobody wants anything. Not in a way that matters. Oh, it’s too easy. It’s too easy to take shortcuts. They don’t understand desire anymore.” Desire clutches their heart dramatically.

“I have not the faintest clue what you are talking about,” Dream says.

“I am a starving and bottomless mouth,” Desire tells him, looking up at him with both shining eyes now. “See, my teeth.” They bare their teeth at him. Their incisors are very sharp.

“I am aware of this.”

“And they think they can feed me with tiny little candies like a yapping chihuahua that’ll finally shut up. They’re poisoning me. They’re starving me. They’re glutting themselves on whatever makes the brain chemmies go weeweeweeweewoo for a second and look— look.” They drag down the hem of Despair’s jumper, peel back a layer of skin. Under it is not flesh, nor blood, but void, an expanding, hungry, agonized void. Dream stares into it, alarmed.

Desire lets their ‘skin’ snap back into place. “What does it even mean, Dream?” they ask rhetorically. “Nothing. It is all fleeting. Nothing deep about it. No one yearns, Dream. No one YEARNS!”

This is said in a despairing wail. Cautiously, Dream pets their hair.

“You crave deep and abiding wants and there is a glut of trivialities and distractions,” he summarizes, and they nod, teary. “Would it appease you if I removed all memory of mobile phones from the face of the earth?”

It doesn’t appease them, but it does make them laugh. Desire laughs, choked and teary, clutching at his hand. “God, I forgot that you’re actually funny when you’re not trying to be.”

It is strange, after all that has transpired, to have what could be considered a civil conversation. Dream still does not forgive them for anything they have done, and perhaps never will, but he sees, for a moment, a much younger year, when they were, in a fashion, friends.

“Many deep desires live in dreams now, for they have little hope of fulfillment,” he says. “But these small morsels, candies as you say, these are not dreamt of, except perhaps in nightmares of eternal wasting. It is still what dwells deepest in the heart that drives dreaming.”

“Are you trying to tell me that I matter?” Desire bites, and Dream simply says—

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Desire seems genuinely disturbed; perhaps they really did think he came to revel in their misery. Perhaps Dream did. But one of his siblings struggling in their duty can only have ill effects on his dreamers, and on their waking selves besides. Dream would be incredibly remiss in not addressing it. Or so he tells himself is his reasoning.

“I do believe there are still fierce desires in this world, though perhaps they have become buried. Usurped,” he says. “Disconnected from the body which is, as I understand it, their rightful home. Though addressing this is not something with which I can aid you.”

The body of living creatures is far outside Dream’s purview, and not something he well understands, except as it manifests in dreams—of hope of change, of twisted horror, of curling heat. And even then, it is far from him.

“I can’t believe you’re giving me advice and it’s not just telling me to go fuck myself,” Desire says faintly. Dream begins to protest, but they continue, “Not that you’d ever use those words, Your Highness.”

“It serves no one if one of our realms is in disarray,” says Dream, and if there is a sharp point to it, a reminder of exactly the damage Desire had so carelessly wrought in Dream’s realm, all the better. “I cannot assist you in managing it, only offer the perspective of dreams. If it proves good counsel, then I will be glad.”

“If it proves good counsel,” Desire mutters. “Fuck you, you superior prick.”

But it is not as sharp and cutting as it might once have been.

Dream abruptly realizes his hand is still touching their hair, and removes himself. He stands, arranging his cloak around him.

“Well,” says Desire, craning their neck back to look up at him upside down, “you must be right on one count. Lingering about here is doing no good.” They stretch, arms above their head, spine cracking. “I suppose I will go stalk the outside world and see if I can’t stoke their desires from ember to inferno.”

“I am certain you can, if you feel that will achieve your aims,” Dream says. Desire’s ability to draw out human wants and push their pursuit is not in question, their mere presence in a space accomplishes that. Whether that will turn their charges away from passing, unsatisfying trinkets and to deeper pleasures is another matter. “Meanwhile, please withdraw your malaise from the borders of my realm. The small children are being hypnotized by dreams of meaningless drivel and it displeases me.”

“Should’ve known you wouldn’t like YouTube,” Desire sighs. They maneuver themselves to sitting in a slanted, tired lean. For a moment, the silence lingers, stretched between them like syrup.

Finally, growing uncomfortable but stiffening his spine, Dream says, “If you are not going to imminently fall apart and cause havoc, then I will take my leave.”

“I love how much you care,” says Desire, sarcastically. Then, tilting their head, “You do care. Just a little bit. Don’t you?”

Dream does not respond to this.

“You could have simply disentangled all your little dreams from my realm and instead you came to check on me,” they say, with glee, and Dream glares. And Desire, apparently sensing a fight, subsides.

“Always lovely when you come around, dear brother,” they say, reclining back against their chaise lounge, eyes glittering despite the neglected state of their form. “Do come again.”

“If you remedy your affairs, then I will not have to,” says Dream curtly, and steps backwards into the Dreaming.

Desire does so love to press buttons at moments when they have almost reached an accord. Desire, once his most loved sibling. Those days are gone now, and Dream does not see them coming back.

[vampcubus]

Ashi, my darling do u think izuku is a bratty sub or a obedient sub.. or both.. 👀

HI LARA!! more than happy to share my thoughts on this since he's been running laps in my mind. i got carried awayyyyy. i need to write a proper brat taming fic for him ong.

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, sub!izuku, dom!fem!reader, master kink.

I'd say Izuku defaults as an obedient sub, especially during your first few sexual encounters.

He's desperate to please, and frankly likes to be bossed around in the bedroom. There's very little he wouldn't do just to hear you praise him for a job well done – and he always does his very best, serving you enthusiastically, tongue, hands, and cock just toys for you to use as far as he's concerned. He's pliant and submits easily, taking all that you give – or decide to withhold until he's earned it. Earning pleasure is very fulfilling for him, and an edged orgasm always feels more satisfying.

That said, he gets brattier as time passes and he gets more comfortable with your dynamic. He gets greedy, lapping up your praise and gentle touches like he needs them to live, only to plead for more of it in his next breath. He's always so quick to beg before you've hardly even started.

"Be patient, puppy," you'd urge, and he'd only whine and writhe harder, hips bucking into your open palm as it teases over the flushed head. "Are you listening?"

"But I want more. please, I need more," he insists, eyes half-lidded and glossy as he watches you play with his cock. You spare him only two fingers, stroking just below the head ever so softly. His head falls back onto the bed, hips lifting up, seeking more friction. He needs a firmer grip, a faster pace, but you only push his hips back down, pinning them there with a displeased grunt.

"You'll take what I give you, or you'll get nothing, understand?" You assert, letting his dick slap back against his tummy despite his whiny protests. "You wanna make your master happy, don't you?

"I want you to fuck me," Izuku huffs, brows pinched in frustration. He reaches a hand for his cock, and you slap it away instantly. "You're being so mean."

"I wouldn't have to be if you weren't such a whiny brat," you sigh, climbing on top of him, capturing both wrists and pinning them on either side of his head. He gasps as you sit on his cock but otherwise leave him to twitch pathetically against your clothed cunt, he can feel how warm you are and it makes him moan shakily. "Are you gonna keep your hands to yourself like a good boy, or do I have to cuff you?"

"No, please don't do that! i'll be good now. 'm sorry, please touch my cock again, master," he pleads, arms going limp in your firm hold to indicate his promised compliance. "Please I- mmf!"

His incessant begging is silenced when you pull down your panties, ball them up, and stuff them in his mouth.

"That's better. Now let's try again, shall we?" You hum, satisfied with his muffled whimpering.

There are times Izuku would obey you without question, prepared to kneel and worship the ground you walk on without a second thought. Other times he can't help but challenge you, can't help but test your patience, to make you work for his submission. Ultimately yes, he wants you to have your way with him, but sometimes he just can't stop the bratty phrase "Make me." from slipping out when you tell him what to do.

Sometimes he gets that determined glimmer in his eye and he misbehaves just to see how you react, a satisfied grin pulling at his lips when you flounder at his audacity. He'll move when you tell him to be still, moan out when you tell him to be quiet, and egg you on just to see you snap and put him in his place.

You're his Master, and he wants you to remind him why. To prove it. Izuku getting pinned down and railed into compliance is an absolute win for him.

[angstflavoured]

ex friend who i hate is deathly into tf2 and i need them to actually stay away from the new comic so bad like just me knowing they're going to be consuming it and liking it in the worst way possible makes me wanna punch a wall like no sorry these guys are MINE!!! STAY AWAYYY KEEP YOUR STUPID MYSOGINISTIC ASS AWAYYYYY FROM MS PAULING and i just know they're gonna make fanart of it like grrrrrrr grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

[pretty-ichor]

ahahah noooOOo do not fall into insane obsessive patterns again especially with people you do not knowwww ahah

why do i feel like i wither away if i dont have someone to obsess over (i know why)

but it still sucks and even if i try to keep the thoughts away and ignore urges, i will still obsess over whoever. im always fixated on someone but now it's getting not so minimal and im very afraid of developing a favorite person again. I DO NOT WANT THIS GO AWAYYYYY

[hekademia]

Journaling

Why journal? I am pretty sure by now, you have heard a thousand influencers tell you that you SHOULD journal because it is magically going to clean up the mess that is your brain, organize your life, make you happier, richer, prettier, and solve world hunger. And if you are not journaling, there's probably something wrong with you.

And they're right. Not the world hunger part, unfortunately. There is prolly something wrong with you and that something is Being A Human Being. It is a the most widespread condition with a 100% of the population being chronically affected and the only available cure is Death. But let me not digress. 

Unless you are one of those gifted people blessed with mounds of motivation and crates of consistency, it can be very difficult to start and even more difficult to continue a habit such as journaling. 

I am definitely not one of the chosen ones and Heaven knows I have more dead unfinished projects than I have pages of New Year Resolutions but allow me to audaciously claim that I have cracked the code! The trick is....Just Journal. 

 Hold on hold on, do not click away yet even though Yes I am going to say the exact same thing all the ‘motivators’ before me have said. Seriously, JUST DO IT! What stops us is the thought that it is not going to be 'perfect' or 'aesthetic' enough but puhleeeezeee, Life is Not a Pinterest board, even though I sure wish it was. Just write something. Anything! My first journal entry ( just like this article I am currently writing ) was written in the middle of a boring class. It went something like this ;

25 March 2019

I'm bored.......I could cry or die srsly. Should I just sleep?? What are they gonna serve in the dining hall today?

How original eh?

I was in boarding school then, thus the strange reference to a dining hall. That was all I needed to get started.I realized I did not need to make every sentence perfect and pretty and I could use abbreviations and unconventional punctuation. I was not accountable to anyone but myself!! I just put all my rambling messy unconnected thoughts as they came into my head. No one is going to check your spelling or punctuation or if you are using enough active verbs, whatever those are. So seriously just write. 

You find out stuff you did not even know about yourself. For example I found out that I do not hate writing, as much I thought I did. What I hate is the physical activity of moving my hand. It makes my hand hurt, not that I'm lazy, although that could also be true, don’t judge me......

So please, just write. It really is an interesting pastime and writing is such a useful skill. I could talk for days on end how useful writing is for your brain, your social life, your development both personal and intellectual. Pick up a pen ( one that doesn’t make your wrist hurt, please ) and scribble awayyyyy !!!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

PS: I just got the greatest idea. Reblog with your first journal entry! It doesn’t have to be a physical journal. It could be on your phone; a notes app. Google docs, A journal app. Heck you can chisel your entry on a piece of rock, just make sure to write something!!