#wrote this for a contest thing

[romanticize-until-you-drop]

2024-02-22

I’ve been having a bit of a rough week. My anxiety is acting up and I’m starting to realized that perhaps signing up for a bunch of large commitment extra curriculars isn’t such a great idea after all.

I felt super overwhelmed and had to pass off some of my responsibilities, but after a hot chocolate and making some to-do lists, it’s not looking like the end of the world anymore.

[iwillstabyou]

I have a confession.

As my delightful mutuals probably know, I am Swedish. I am a proud Swede. I live in England though, hence the language (men jag förstår lite svenska också). Therefore, naturally I was happy when my homeland triumphed in the Eurovision Song Contest 2023, mostly because my Swedish relatives FaceTimed me to celebrate the win and they were well and truly LEATHERED (and trust me, that is the truest form of entertainment).

As I’ve mentioned before, us Swedes are fucking FERAL when it comes to Eurovision, so the euphoria of the success coursed through my blood like opium. But much like opium, it skewed my perception of things. It blinded me to the true injustice of it all. It rendered me unable to recognise the truth: the fact that the true winner - Käärijä - was robbed of the title he truly deserved. His act had all the things that Eurovision is about: neon outfits fit for a dr Seuss character, lyrics that seem nonsensical but actually have meaning (and bonus, it’s not a depressing meaning), techno-metal mixed with a highly contrasting genre, slutty backup dancers, singing in Finnish, weird staging, etc. I could go on forever.

The point is, Käärijä slayed. He slayed hard. He slayed harder than Loreen could ever dream of. And I may not have registered it at the time, but looking back now, I realise that from the very first time cha cha cha blessed my ears, I was rooting for Finland, despite my Swedish bloodline. In fact, now I can admit that the aforementioned ‘euphoria’ I felt as the win was announced, was shallow. Deep down, I was actually disappointed. The more I think about it, the more I realise that our ‘win’ was a meaningless feat, fuelled by a jury of so called ‘experts’ who are probably mainly boring old sods with a poor music taste (not like that’s a new revelation - this is Eurovision ffs).

And because of that, I can now fully accept that the only real true winner of Eurovision Song Contest 2023 is Finland. So Käärijä, I speak on behalf of all Swedes (yes, all of them. The ones that disagree just aren’t as self aware and haven’t come to this conclusion yet. They’ll see the truth soon enough. Except for maybe Loreen, which is fair enough) when I say that we collectively give YOU the official title of “Eurovision Song Contest 2023 winner” that you so deserve. We didn’t want it anyway. We have ABBA, it’s not like we can ever beat that.

Congrats on the win, Finland!

[noahtally-famous]

can't believe this hasn't been said before but unhinged!scarlett and unhinged!dave would be an iconic duo. shame pi didn't get a second season bc these two in an alliance would basically succeed in destroying the island, they'd wipe everyone out

the fact that they're both versions of the nerd character so they're already smart in their own ways, the fact that they have absolutely zero fucks to give anymore, their individual darker sides have come out (whether it was hidden consciously (scarlett) or unconsciously (dave)), and they've each attempted to kill/seriously injure one or more contestant(s) (and mess up the island in the process) just to reach their end goal. imagine if these two found a common goal somehow, literally nothing could get in their paths (except possibly each other)

[thevioletcaptain]

if you as a fic reader ever become possessed by the urge to do a popularity bracket with the fics other people wrote and shared for fun and for free, consider:

don't ❤️ 

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

Something that makes me feel good about my writing is the fact that there are stories out there that I do not see the appeal of that do MASSIVELY well anyway. Like star wars. I have only ever had the vaguest interest in star wars. I watched the first movie about 4 years ago for the very first time and honestly don't remember anything about it now. Couldn't care less. Obviously star wars is still successful. Love it or hate it, 50 shades of Grey was a hit that left the author with loads of money. Do I see the appeal? No. That doesn't change the fact it was extremely popular. I tried MULTIPLE times to get into "the last of us" gameplay and could not hack it. I must have tried at least 4 times. I got extremely bored. But the last of us is so beloved that it even led to a beloved TV show (something notoriously hard for games-turned-shows to do). There are so many stories out there that do not catch my eye or that don't effect my heart in any way shape or form and yet people STILL love them to bits. So even if I think my stories are shit, clearly me classifying something as shit does not stop it from being loved by others. Even shitty stories can touch hearts and that's one of the few motivations that I keep recycling.

[sexiestfinweanpoll]

[chrysopeony]

Read the Suffering Game book and overcome with my love of Davenport. Like. Damn. I am thinking about him.

It was funny i was worried I wouldn't be as into Taz since I haven't engaged with it for quite a while but no, I saw a singular panel with Davenport in it and broke out into thr biggest grin. And obviously I ate well with this book but I couldn't help but think

Man! I drew a ton of him, I flooded his tag for a long period of time (I know this cause I followed his tag for the longest time. I dont know if Tumblr still shows you your own posts lol). Did I write/draw him well? Did I flanderize him? I wonder if I made people like him more or made people like him less. I know it's tough when someone who is very ubiquitous is hawking a version of a character you don't care for (especially for smaller tags)

Either way, I really hope it just came across how much I love Davenport and maybe made others love him too.

[itwoodbeprefect]

i always thought there were two ways to rediscover old stories that you don't remember writing and they are 1) oh no i can't look oh no oh no that's embarrassing, and 2) hey? this is pretty cool actually? this sort of really rocks?, but today i've discovered the secret third option. and it's 3) i guess in 2018 i wrote 1500 words of original fiction about thor (the norse god) and the easter bunny (the easter bunny) on a blind first date in a starbucks and it's a little haunting that this reads pretty much the same as most genuine fluffy scenes i've ever written, but littered with egg puns

[snizx]

I’m ill and I have to wake up for work in four hours or whatever but NONE OF THAT MATTERS!! I FOUND MY TIME LOOP STORY THAT I THOUGHT I HAD LOST! I HAVE WON!

[arcadian-vampire]

I have Such bad imposter syndrome and a rather absurd fear of being a One-Hit Wonder.

I'll come up with a joke that makes people laugh, or I'll write something that makes my partner yell (positive), or I'll paint something that captures my feelings so perfectly that I wonder why the hell I even bother trying to use words, or I'll have a bit of energy to take care of myself and get all dressed up and I manage to look pretty, and I Always go 'wow that was fun! too bad it'll never happen again :( '

Like BOY what the hell do you mean!! I have a minor success at Least every three months. It's not random coincidence or wild luck, I Am a little funny and creative and cute

[sharkfinx]

Should be a crime to make a old man cry :/

[vangoghsmissingearr]

Memoirs of a wildflower.

To be a tree,

Happy, luscious and covered with moss!

Or so we think,

The tree might be sad and afraid it will shrink,

yet it stands there dancing and humming with the birds,

Who were too busy building their nests.

You see, being a tree has its perks.

I, a wildflowers pressed against his bark,

listening to his every thought,

hearing his cries of anguish.

To have strangers seek shelter and leave without a word of thanks.

He always wondered how it was to live as a bird,

Free to fly and wander away, making friends as well as enemies.

Alas the tree just stood there waiting to join his dear old friends,

Leaving without a word just as the strangers who once rested on his shoulders did.

-memiac

[izzy-b-hands]

So much of typing in particular as I get older is just shouting at myself 'USE THE FONT EVEN IF IT'S NOT YOUR FAVE. SET THE SIZE TO 12 OR MORE EVEN IF YOU THINK IT LOOKS CRAP/MAKES THE DRAFT SEEM TOO LENGTHY. YOUR EYES CAN'T DO IT LIKE THEY COULD BEFORE; WHY ARE YOU INTENTIONALLY MAKING THIS HARDER FOR YOURSELF?'

and I don't even have a good answer for that lmao

[misskamelie]

Unrequited(...?) affection will have you acting slightly insane (I've started to write –more like contemplating– a piece on how I believe churches and holy buildings should be experienced from the pov of someone who wouldn't be considered a believer nor active participant of the religion)

[gyaruhana]

pls write for thanos with hatefucking… like that man has that potential after seeing how he talks to the other contestants

Thanos/Choi Su-Bong - Hatefucking

Synopsis: You and Thanos hate each other and, no matter how many death threats he sends your way, you never listen. So he decides that, if threats don't work, maybe you need to be fucked instead.

A/N: wrote this in like two hours max so it may not be the best but I tried anyway !! I love Thanos so much and hatefuck with him has me thirstyy

Warnings: smut, penetrative sex, blowjob, degradation, thanos is a little meanie and you're sassy

If there was one thing that could be said for sure about Thanos, it's that he was a total fucking dickhead. 

From the very first game you played in this hellhole, he had been nothing but a problem. He skipped around like he owned the place and had no problem with sacrificing a few people. Not to mention, he was loud. So annoyingly loud. 

Unfortunately for you, he seemed to really hate you too. Maybe it was the fact you kept glaring at him like he did something or the way you'd make some sort of sarcastic comment every time he spoke. Whatever the reason, the feeling was mutual. He hated you. You hated him. That was the end of it.

Well, it should've been. 

As if some divine being took joy in your pain, Thanos walked up to you while you were alone with an angry look - clearly having something to say to you. You could guess he was going to try to threaten you into choosing to continue the games next vote since you had chosen not to.

“Yo. It'd be in your best interest to choose the blue button. It's really pissing me off when you keep pressing that red x button every time,” he spoke as he looked down at you from where you sat.

“Or what?” You say as you stand up and look at him with disdain. You weren't about to let this idiot try to scare you into doing what he wants. You weren't his slave. “Or I'll fucking kill you,” he says as he steps closer with a look that seemed like he meant it. Honestly, you didn't doubt that he was telling the truth. He's been killing people since the first game and it certainly won't be any different for you.

“Ooh, scary,” you say sarcastically before pushing past him. You didn't get far before he grabbed your wrist and turned you around, pulling you close to him. “You don't think I'll do it? Cause you'd be wrong,” he says as he looks at you dead in the eyes. You harshly pulled your wrist away from his grip and gave him a scoff.

“You're too much of a pussy to do shit. The only thing that gives you confidence are those dumb little pills you take,” you say as you look at him, challenging him to say something else.

It was quiet as you two just stared at each other, both silently praying for the other's death. He lets out an annoyed huff before finally breaking eye contact to look to the side. Without another word, he pushes past you and walks back to the other side of the room where the rest of the people who wanted to continue playing the game were. If that idiot really thought he could sway you, he'd soon learn you aren't swayed by death threats from high dumbasses.

When it came time to vote, you could feel Thanos staring you down. You turned your head to look back at him with an eyebrow raised and he turned his head away. You could see the annoyance all over his face. 

One by one, each player went up and placed their vote. The numbers were quite even and it was hard to tell who'd end up victorious in this vote. When it was Thanos's turn to vote, he made a point of stopping right behind you before he walked down.

“Remember what I said earlier. I'll kill you,” he whispers before walking past and skipping down towards the buttons. He kissed the blue button before walking over to the corresponding side but he was looking straight at you.

You ignored his hard glare and walked down to the buttons. You raised your hand and, no surprise, pressed the red button. You turned to him and flipped him off with a small smirk before walking off to the other side. 

For a moment, you actually thought you'd get away with that because it seemed that more people wanted to leave now. However, that was not the case as the result ended up being a tie.

Great. You were stuck here for longer. You definitely wouldn't be able to avoid Thanos if you were stuck here till tomorrow. He didn't seem to walk up to you immediately. It was like he was waiting for the right time to strike. All he did was stare at you from across the room as if he was formulating the most brutal way to tear you limb by limb. And, wow, he stared at you for a very long time. 

It wasn't until there were 5 minutes before lights out did he come to you. You were all by yourself in a corner and no one seemed to be paying much attention. They were all so busy in their own whispered conversations.

“Hey, it seems you didn't understand me the first time,” he says as he grabs you by your shirt and pushes you against the wall behind you. “I said I'd kill you if you pressed the red button,” he continues as he looks at you with annoyance.

“Go ahead then. Kill me,” you say as you look at him with a small smirk. He might have already killed a few people but you didn't believe he'd have the guts to kill people outside of the games.

He was quiet. All he did was stare. It was as if he was calculating some thoughts. He looked toward the timer on the wall before looking back at you.

“You're fucking unbearable,” he speaks before he's suddenly slamming his lips against yours. You didn't expect this move. You expected him to stab you or choke you - not kiss you.

You push him away with a glare. You couldn't be kissing this idiot. You hated him and he was fucking stupid. But even with that hate, there was something about the way he kissed you that had you thinking twice.

Fuck, you were doing this. 

You pulled him in by his collar and pressed your lips against his. There was nothing romantic about this kiss. It was pure hate. Just angry, rough kissing as if it would solve anything. His hands were all over your body before they finally decided to settle on your hips with a tight grip. He pulled away before starting to leave kisses along your neck. He wasn't gentle at all. He was biting you as if he wanted to draw blood.

“You're such a fucking bitch. Always acting so smug. I'm gonna shut you the fuck up,” he says as his hand goes to your hair before yanking it back roughly to give him better access to your neck. 

“You're the fucking bitch. Always walking around like you own the place,” you say back and in response he bites your neck hard making you wince slightly at the pain. “watch your fucking mouth,” he spoke as he pulled away and wrapped a hand around your throat. As if on cue, the lights suddenly turned off leaving you two in the dark.

He let out a small laugh as it went dark before he removed the hand on your hip and instead started pulling your pants down. 

“I'm gonna fuck you till you learn you're not in control, I am,” he says before pulling his own pants down. He wasn't going to play nice or take it easy. Not when you hadn't played nice with him. 

“You think you can fuck me into submission? You're way too fucking cocky,” you say with a quiet laugh, finding it amusing how he thought you'd fold once he started fucking you. “We’ll see,” he says, his grip around your throat tightening to shut you up. He pulled his boxers down slightly, enough to let his dick out, before he pushed your panties to the side.

“I'm gonna show you not to fuck with me again,” he whispers into your ear as he lines himself up with your entrance. Without another word, he starts slowly thrusting himself in till he's all the way inside you.

“You're such a fucking whore,” he says as he starts to pull out before thrusting in again with one stroke. He kept a pace of being fast and hard as if trying to make you feel his hate on a spiritual level. 

Well, God you could definitely feel it. He kept leaving aggressive bites all over your neck as he thrust into you. His hand around your neck kept its firm grip, enjoying the way you struggled to breathe. 

He wasn't fucking you for pleasure, he was fucking you to make you learn a lesson. He wanted to make you cum. He wanted to choke you till your vision got blurry. He wanted it to be clear he hated you with every fiber of his being. 

His free hand went down to your clit and he pinched it before rubbing it with a circular motion. He wasn't gentle so it brought a mix of both pain and pleasure. A feeling that brought you closer to the edge of a sweet, sweet release. He could feel you tighten around his cock and it made him let out a groan which turned into a small mocking laugh.

“Fuck, are you- going to cum? Already?” He says mockingly with a smirk. He took pleasure in knowing he could control you like this. Control someone who seemed to hate him. “C'mon, cum on my cock then, whore,” he said before pressing his lips to yours roughly. He forced his tongue into your mouth and he was clearly eager to get you to cum. 

With a slight angle of his hips, he thrusted into just the right spot that had you tipping far over the edge. He let out a groan at the feeling of you coming undone on his cock before he quickly pulled out. 

He released your throat and grabbed your hair instead before forcing you onto your knees. You looked up at him with a glare and he returned it with the corner of his mouth just barely quirked up. “suck my cock so I can come,” he said as he brought his cock closer to your mouth. He really didn't hesitate when you opened your mouth and immediately forced himself in with a groan at the feeling. 

“God.. do you taste yourself on my dick?” He says as he looks down at you. He thrusts into your mouth making you gag and he just laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. “You're such a fucking bitch when you talk shit. I like you better like this,” he speaks as he mercilessly thrusts into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat over and over again.

“I'm gonna cum in your mouth and you're gonna swallow, yeah?” He says before throwing his head back with a groan. It didn't take long before you felt his cum run down your throat. He thrusted a little more as he came down from his high before finally pulling out of your mouth. There was drool running down your chin as he pulled his boxers and pants up before kneeling in front of you.

“Swallow my cum,” he orders as he tilts his head at you and waits. You look up at him before turning your head and spitting onto the floor instead. 

“I think I'll pass,” you say as you look up at him once again with a glare. Tension rose between you two again but this time, it was different. Sure, it was hate, but there was undeniably a different punishment waiting instead of an argument.

“Then I guess you haven't learnt your lesson,”

[aajjks]

attention (m)

synopsis. Attraction and Attention can be dangerous and your professor will give you a lesson on why they are the most dangerous things in the world

pairing: yandere professor jungkook x female student reader.

warnings: yándére, 18+ thémes, dárk thémes, prófèssôr x stúdént románcè, fátál áttráctíón, séxúál ténsíón, mórálly, córrúpt júngkóók, íllícít désíres, mánípúlátíón, thréáténíng, tríggeríng thémes, prófáníty.

note. this is something I wrote because I was bored and I’ve always wanted to experiment with darker taboo themes so enjoy it and if you guys would like it, maybe I will write a full fic sometime. And welcome the newest JK into my universe.

The classroom is quiet, the faint hum of the air conditioning the only sound cutting through the silence. You sit at your desk, the usual excitement of the lecture now replaced by a heavy weight on your chest. It’s as if the air has thickened since Jungkook walked in, a shift you can’t explain but feel deep in your bones. His presence fills the room, dominating it entirely. His sharp gaze sweeps over the class, briefly pausing on you, and for a moment, you swear you feel the room spin.

Jungkook, your professor. He’s everything you’ve learned to admire from a distance: intelligent, reserved, and commanding. But it’s different now. You can’t quite place it, but there’s something in the way he looks at you that makes your heart beat faster than usual.

It’s a little weird, but you are a woman and a woman’s intuition is never wrong, especially when it comes to a man’s intentions.

And at the end of the day, he’s only a man.

You’ve noticed it the way he looks at you, it’s like he’s mirroring your own desire sometimes, you notice the way he dresses the way he breaths and the way he holds that chalk.

His eyes linger a little too long when they meet yours, a glint of something darker that you can’t ignore. You quickly look away, forcing yourself to focus on the lecture, but the thought of his gaze still weighs heavily on your mind.

As the lecture progresses, Jungkook’s voice starts to sound like a soft, melodic hum that draws your attention back to him. Every word he speaks seems to pierce through the air, aimed directly at you.

He’s teaching the class, but his eyes keep drifting back to you, catching you off guard each time they meet yours. It’s as if he’s speaking only to you, a private conversation masked under the guise of a lecture.

Your skin tingles where his eyes rest, making you feel exposed, vulnerable, and yet… you can’t look away. His gaze holds a power over you, a magnetic pull that you can’t fight. Every time your eyes meet, it feels like a silent battle, a contest to see who will break first. The desire to escape is there, but the curiosity, the strange pull toward him, keeps you anchored in place. You know it’s dangerous. You know you’re playing with fire, but it feels too late to stop now.

Why does he have to be so fucking attractive?

The bell rings, signaling the end of class, and students begin to shuffle out of their seats. Most of them leave without a second glance at Jungkook, but you hesitate. Something tells you that this isn’t over. You watch as the others exit, and when the last student leaves, the door closes with a soft click.

It’s just you and him now.

You stand slowly, gathering your things, but Jungkook’s voice stops you in your tracks.

“Yn,” he calls, his tone smooth, measured, but with an edge to it that sends a shiver down your spine. Your name sounds different when he says it, drawn out with a dangerous softness that makes you hesitate.

You turn to face him, trying to mask the racing of your heart. “Yes, Professor Jeon?”

Jungkook steps toward you with slow, deliberate movements. There’s an unsettling calmness in the way he approaches, like a predator circling its prey. His eyes never leave yours, and as he draws closer, you instinctively take a step back. But there’s nowhere to retreat now—your back is against the desk, and you can feel the cool wood pressing into your spine.

He stops right in front of you, his tall figure towering over your smaller frame. Even though he’s wearing a shirt that has a really plain color and there’s no pattern in it, but his tattoos are the hottest accessory he could’ve chosen to accessorize it with. His muscles seem to be taut.

The ink on his arm, it’s intriguing and it’s the hottest thing in the world..

He’s strong, big.

The space between you feels charged with something dangerous, a tension you can’t quite understand. His cologne, a mix of musky cedarwood and something sharp, clings to the air, enveloping you in a scent that’s oddly intoxicating.

“You’ve been distracted lately,” Jungkook murmurs, his voice low, his eyes narrowing as if he’s studying you, he’s trying to read you and you can tell that he can see through you.

“I’m sorry, Professor,” you say quickly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve just been… a little tired.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, just stands there, staring down at you, as if weighing your words. Then, his lips curl into a small, knowing smile. “Tired?” he repeats, the word dripping with something that feels more like a challenge. “I don’t think it’s just tiredness.”

You swallow, a lump forming in your throat. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you that makes you feel like you’re being laid bare in front of him, your deepest thoughts, your secrets, all exposed. It’s unnerving and yet…

“Maybe you’ve been distracted by other things,” Jungkook continues, his voice almost a whisper now, but it carries a weight that makes your heart race even faster. He steps closer, his body hovering just a breath away from yours. The intensity of his gaze doesn’t break,

and you feel trapped. Every instinct tells you to run, to escape this room and this overwhelming tension, but your feet won’t move.

“I… I don’t know what you mean,” you say, your voice shaking despite your best efforts to keep calm.

He chuckles, a low, dark sound that seems to vibrate in the pit of your stomach. “You do,” he replies, leaning in just a little closer. “You know exactly what I mean. You’ve been avoiding me… but I can see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking.”

Your face flushes at his words, a heat spreading across your cheeks. You try to deny it, but the way he’s looking at you, the knowing glint in his eyes, makes it impossible. He’s right. You have been looking at him

at least, when you thought he wasn’t noticing. There’s a part of you that’s drawn to him, to the danger that radiates from him, to the way he commands attention without saying a word. You hate how much it disturbs you, how much it excites you.

“You’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you?” Jungkook presses, his voice now so low that it feels like it’s just for you, no one else. His breath is warm against your ear, and you freeze, your entire body tense as his words sink in.

Why is he doing this to you?

You try to step back again, but he’s too quick. His hand reaches out, gently but firmly holding your wrist, stopping you from retreating.

“There’s no use in denying it,” he says, his voice a soft command. “I know what you’re feeling. I can see it in the way you react to me. You can’t hide it anymore.”

“It’s okay baby.” he smiles sickly at you. “It’s okay to tell me if I get your pussy wet with just one look.”

You feel a jolt of panic surge through you, your heart pounding so loudly it almost drowns out everything else. “Please,” you say, your voice breaking. “Don’t do this.”

Jungkook’s smile fades, and for a moment, you think he might let go, that maybe this was just a game to him. But then, his grip tightens ever so slightly, his eyes darkening.

He looks so scary in this moment, but yet you cannot bring yourself to look away from his stormy gaze.

Yes, you want to answer, but you’re not sure why you cannot bring yourself to say that to me.

“You think you can walk away from me? After everything I’ve done for you?” His voice is a low rasp, laced with frustration, with an edge of something darker. “You belong to me now, yn. Don’t forget that.”

The words hit you like a punch, a cold, hard reality that leaves you breathless. You’re trapped. You’ve always been trapped. You’ve been under his watch, his control, since the moment you first laid eyes on him in that lecture hall.

You open your mouth to say something, anything to break the spell he’s cast, but no words come out.

You’re lost. And the scariest part is, you’re not sure you want to escape.

Jungkook steps even closer, his face mere inches from yours now. “You’ve already given yourself to me,” he whispers, his breath ghosting over your skin. “Now, it’s just a matter of time before you accept it.”

And in that moment, you realize: you shouldn’t have ever caught his attention or paid attention to him.