#drabble fail

[tricornonthecob]

11

From that time James and Henri head down the Mississippi

On The Water, Steve Martin and Steep Canyon Rangers

----

He hates the ocean; the way it boils with even the deadest wind or laziest tide. He hates waking for the thousandth day (yes, it was a thousand days!) to the taste of brine and tar and dried snot on his lip.

He hates the greasy lobscouse and the leathery stockfish; the watered-down grog set like a hot cannonball in his too-small belly; the aroma of pus and vinegar and pigshite and flux and bilge and fever and sweat.

Sometimes he still hears the captain's accent in Philadelphia's English, and it grates.

A deep, resonant plouf from somewhere to his left catches on his attention. His eye casts up just in time to see ripples where one of those monstrous, whisker-lipped river fish had assuredly leapt from the water.

Ceci n'est pas la mer. This is not the ocean.

He reminds himself of that for what must be the fifteenth day in a row. Even the most industrious of river swells do not pitch and roll like that saltwater purgatory, and today the river runs too fat and contented to be bothered with industry. And since the western shore can be seen from where he now stands - an oar-man upon a Mississippi raft - the recollection of being dragged above-decks to a blazing sun and empty horizon is brief.

"Look aloive, Henri! What, d'ye slacken already? Chroist's wounds..."

Of its own volition, his head snaps back to level a glare at his adoptive brother, but the surge of irritation bottoms out in a chill. James' voice is dangerously low, his eyes hard as ice.

Il est trop tôt pour cela. It is too early for this.

"D'accord, d'accord," Henri mutters under his breath. "Pas besoin d'être âne."

"Oh, speak bloody English, will yeh?"

"Hon! I am calling you an arse."

James' brows hook together in a breathtaking frown, but Henri's patience for his brother's sour moods is fast dwindling. Before James can edge another word in, Henri's acrimony gets the better of him.

"You were the one wanting to know what it is I said, non? D'accord. You have it now. So let me speak Français, and you shove it up your American - "

"Foine, then!" James waves Henri silent, snorting, casting his gaze away to glower at the water.

The calluses on Henri's palms are tender yet from blisters opened two days ago. They sting as he sinks his oar back in the muddy current. The water laps and gushes beneath them; the two boys fall into a stilted quiet.

For what must be an eternity of minutes, Henri stews as a guilty ache gnaws his chest. At length, he opens his mouth to speak, but when his eyes seek out his adoptive brother - only to find him still staring angrily at the water, as though the river had been the one to insult him - Henri finds his voice muted.

Be a beast for the rest of your life, James Hiller, but it will not mend your heart.

Henri turns back to the Mississippi before them, and the brothers push their oars along.

[mammameesh]

Parakeet

This was a drabble fail but I couldn't figure out how to edit it. for @jamilas-pen who likes birds and crack I'll try Parakeet again tomorrow @a-noble-dragon

Parakeet

[hgejfmw-hgejhsf]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Additional Tags: POV Alex Claremont-Diaz, Pining Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Pre-Canon, Canon Compliant, Enemies to Lovers, I'm not sure where to place this, It's not really angst or fluff or any of that, It just sort of...is, Alex Claremont-Diaz has no idea that he loves Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor but he does, Also known as that time Alex threatened to throw Henry in the Thames, Unresolved Sexual Tension, you can cut it with a knife, Internal Monologue, Alex waxes poetic about how beautiful Henry is, But they definitely aren't in love, Nope they're mortal enemies Summary:

Henry sighs. "Is that the time you threatened to push me into the Thames?"

OR

That time Alex threatened to push Henry into the Thames.

[gumilac]

for MEGUMI, it's the quiet lazy mornings, the sun from behind the blinds falling on his face, the soft giggles ringing in his ears, and the peppered kisses being littered on his face; that he considers the best part of waking up—even the best part of his day.

you giggle and push raven locks away from his face, a sickly sweet greeting making its way to his ears, "good morning, megs."

he flutters his eyes open, blinking sleep away, a hazy figure before him before it all finally clears. he smiles lopsidedly, and reaches an arm to wrap around your waist, pulling you in closer. 

“hey darling…” he says, before placing kisses on your face. he pulls back just a bit, enough to see more of your figure—more of you. and for a sight he swears is ingrained in his mind, it always seems to catch him off-guard. still, makes his heart skip a beat. 

your smile.

"rest well?" you softly question your sleepy boyfriend.

for how much you ask? he knows the answer, always has the same one. 

so, he closes his eyes, a small smile forming on his lips and he hums an affirmative; the deep grumble of his chest as it echoes in the quiet space of your shared bedroom. you reach out to caress his cheeks, an action that makes him instinctively nuzzle in the palm of your hand.

and for megumi, it’s moments like these that tell him... 

he's home. always will be.

aki's notes. ofc when i say i'll get back into writing again, it'll be about megumi. ofc ofc ofc, i'm not megumi's gf for no reason XD i hope you guys enjoy this little sweet, sleepy, megumi drabble. i hope its a first of many fics for my term break!!!

[fluffylino]

a funny no nut november with hyunjin 🥟

hyunjin and you have high expectations about eachother's self control...FAILED!

-contains mature themes (hyunjin is crack)

"oh my god its november!" you exclaim, realising its november even though you're halfway through the month.

hyunjin furrows his eyebrows. clearly not understanding your point.

"its november as in, y'know..."

tilting your head to egg him on. all you are met back with is an even more confused expression.

"no nut november...?" you mumble, and begin laughing at his even more perplexed expression.

he brings his hands up in a questioning gesture.

"is it like...not eating any nuts or something? like almonds or walnuts?" and you now wonder the accuracy of him being the leader of paboracha.

"no! HYUNJ-"

"OH! is it because you don't eat any nuts in november so that in december, you can eat as many chocolates you want cause its christmas and every single person eats like a pig during holiday season! is that it?!"

"what-"

pausing to process what he just rambled on about. it actually made sense...

"NO! NO! even though you kind of made sense...no nut november has nothing to do with eating actual nuts like walnuts or whatever!"

"HUH? then what is it?" hyunjin sits straight. already perched closer to you. if his ears could grow, they would be like the baby elephant from the film 'dumbo'.

"no nut november is a whole month of no sex" you say in a straighforward manner.

"...why?" his eyes losing their spark. lips jutting out in a small pout.

"its a challenge! like to see if we can hold out . no cumming or you lose. do you want to try it out?"

"i mean, we haven't done anything since the last week of october cause i was on schedule..." hyunjin mumbles. craning his neck behind you to see the calendar.

"its the 17th of november already, that means we have about 13 days left..." he calculates, sitting silently in deep thought.

"no touching too?" he asks, blinking sweetly at you.

"touching and all is fine. just no cumming..."

"OKAY! GAME ON, BABY!"

.

.

two days pass and you start to find it harder. maybe because now that you knew it was november, it made you more anxious to stick to the rules. hyunjin seemed to be doing well. not even bringing up the topic but not doing anything.

"don't look at me like that" you shriek, dramatically running away from him.

"like what?" he chuckles.

his hands covered in paint and hair messily sitting on his head. it nearly 1 am and he's about to wash up while you wait for him to join you in bed.

"like...that. DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!" pointing a finger at him. he inches closer and smirks devilishly when you jump back further.

"are you finding me incredibly irresistable right now, my love?" hyunjin whispers breathily. your body practically begging for him on the inside.

"yes! so stay back" you exclaim, putting your palm against his face.

smushing his lips away from yours. gasping as his hands quietly sneak around your waist.

"no self control when it comes to me?" pushing himself onto you. till the both of you fall back on the sheets.

core throbbing against his bulge. and you know he feels it, his lips turning up into a cheeky smile.

"missing me that much, baby?" prying your palm away from his face. pinning your hand down beside your head.

unconciously you spread your legs wider. his mouth opening in a small 'o'.

"have you seen yourself? you're sexier than you think" you mumble, eyes widening when his hand slides down your stomach. going over your waistband and patting over your covered mound.

"you want me, baby?" he whispers, fingers tapping against your aching cunt. looking down at you with a smirk. your panties are wet. sticking uncomfortably to your wetness.

a grunt escaping his mouth when you buck your hips up. smiling triumphantly at his hardness.

"10 more days." he whispers, sighing heavily.

"thats too long, isn't it..."

"we can do it, baby" hyunjin tries to encourage. his hips mindlessly rocking into you. for some reason, you can't stop yourself from meeting his sinful movements.

"yeah, we can...do it" squeezing your eyes shut. his hands hastily pulling his pants down. he goes silent for a few seconds, snorting in annoyance.

"no nut november is useless!" he says, dick slipping between your folds. rubbing himself eagerly.

"might as well just not eat almonds, walnuts and-" he blabbers on while simultaneously pushing his length past your entrance.

"HYUNJIN-"

.

.

.

.

.

hyunjin paboooo

[alex-num-17566]

Every time I hear about Tim's missing spleen and all the complications that arise from it, I just...seriously? Why does he just walk around without it?

I mean, this is the same guy who tried to clone Kon 99 times. I'm sure he has at least some idea how to grow a spleen.

Please, someone, anyone, acknowledge Tim "I tried to master human-alien DNA manipulation as a highschool dropout" Drake would absolutely perform open chest surgery on himself to keep the embarrassment of losing an organ from the rest of the Bats.

[orpheeeeus]

There was a guy on Arthur’s train. 

Arthur didn’t know him, he couldn’t even see his face. 

He had dark hair, cut short, nothing remarkable. But there was something about him. Arthur didn’t know what. There was just something, something important. 

Arthur wanted to see the man’s face, he wanted to put a hand on his shoulder, to make him turn around. 

The train stopped.

It was Arthur’s stop.

He raised his hand, towards the man. There was so little space between them. If only he would allow Arthur to see his face.

But it was Arthur’s stop.

And he didn’t know the man.

So Arthur lowered his arm and grabbed his bag, his legs leading him out of the train. 

His mind was screaming, but his legs were steady, and the doors closed behind him. He was out. He hadn’t seen the stranger’s face. And he knew, deep down, that he would spend his life remembering this failed meeting, that, lying on his deathbed, the only thing before his eyes would be the train’s yellow light and–

The stranger’s back.

[gotta-winwin]

squidgame!wonwoo x reader

cw/tw: references to squid game, blood, guns, dark!wonwoo, lost!reader, angst, ambiguous ending a/n: squid game s2 has been living rent free in my head these past few weeks (yim siwan has reentered the serena residence as well) and i couldn't help but think... wonwoo frontman angst?

frontman!wonwoo feels immune to the gore and pain. He barely bats an eye now, watching the games run from his spot on the couch, observing through a large flat screen tv. It no longer feels real, as if he was just watching a movie. The sounds of those gunshots used to deafen both his heart and his ear, but now they’re strangely silent, missing his hearing altogether. 

frontman!wonwoo remembers how he used to cry over losing you, body shaking as he begged to the sky, his chest aching with love that had nowhere to go. A past long forgotten - until he’d wake up covered in sweat, his hands shaking, cupping an invisible face he could touch but not see. He barely remembers the reason he lost you - but he sees your face clearly. 

frontman!wonwoo, who never planned to have the job he had now. You had always praised him for being a hard worker, always able to climb his way to the top - even if he had to crawl to get there. It felt like a curse now, as he oversaw the games, a mask replacing his usual glasses. He wore contacts now - the feeling of your hands fixing his glasses that would always sit crooked against his face haunted him, even to this day. 

frontman!wonwoo, who justifies his actions by telling himself it’s not really his fault. It’s not like he’s physically killing those people, and they did give consent! He argues with the better half of himself that life was never especially kind to him, so why should he? In fact, life had been rather cruel - taking you from his reach and trapping him in this cold world. 

frontman!wonwoo scoffs at the people begging him to save their lives. After all, why should he? The question only infuriates him: he couldn’t even save the only person he’s ever loved in this life and they’re asking him to save them? Your disappearance and running the games had changed him - he knew, even if you did return, you’d never love this version of him. 

frontman!wonwoo brings in one of the triangle guards below him, prepared to scold them for going against the rules he had set - no communication with players, no matter the circumstance. He finds himself pausing, as he listens to their reasoning: something about the player being sick and needing the bathroom after hours, and for the first time in a long time, he feels his face relaxing. 

frontman!wonwoo doesn’t understand why he had let the guard off so easily. There was just something about the way they spoke, even covered under the heavy voice modulation, the tone and inflections tugged at his stomach and heartstrings. He found it odd and not at all like him. 

frontman!wonwoo, who slowly becomes entranced by the guard, watching their every move on footage, ignoring the games in front of him. His once calculated and orderly days crumble, leaving him grappling with the idea that just maybe, past!wonwoo was beginning to fight his way out again.

frontman!wonwoo, who starts ordering the guard in more often under the guise of ‘maintenance’ or ‘reprimands.’ He never speaks much, asking a few questions here and there - but instead he listens, ordering the guard to speak, to say anything, to tell him anything. He listens, wholly concentrated on their cadence, desperately trying to pinpoint where he’s heard it from. 

frontman!wonwoo, who hesitates to pull the trigger for the first time since he had first started working for the game. He stares at the young woman before him, her eyes quivering with tears, a brave expression on her face - staring death head-on. Lowering the gun, he gestures for her to run. Leave, he tells her quietly, a part of him still amazed at his own actions. 

frontman!wonwoo, who doubles down on the cruelty once he realizes he’s been slipping. As if he were trying to recondition himself, Wonwoo takes it upon himself to be twice as unforgiving, white hot anger directed solely at himself for letting his guard down. 

frontman!wonwoo, who looks at you with bewildered eyes as you take off your mask, dropping it to the floor as you stare down the barrel of his gun. You’ve had enough - unable to watch him destroy both himself and others, stepping in front of him with heartache coursing through your veins. His eyes widen subtly as he stares, mouth open, the muscles trying to remember how to speak your name. 

frontman!wonwoo, who calls out your name with a slight rasp, his throat closing up as he lowers the gun, arms falling uselessly to his sides. You look the same as the last day he saw you, staring at him with helpless eyes as you looked around, the piles of dead bodies staring back at you. 

At the end of the day, it was the stark contrast of seeing you surrounded by blood and death that jolted frontman!wonwoo out of his stupor. The sight was obscene, sinful (not in the good way) and just not right. His arms reached out to grab you as he neared, frantic eyes roaming across your features to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. 

frontman!wonwoo, who abandons his job and respobsiblites with your miraculous return. He doesn’t care about the target now on his back, happy to fight through fire and ice to keep you by his side - promising you the life he couldn’t give you before: normalcy. Wonwoo yearns for it, to regain the uneventful yet fulfilling life he had once shared with you, leaving the mess behind. 

[holidayinhell]

CWs: captivity Whump, failed escape Whump.

“I know you have it.”

Whumper outstretched his palm. “Hand it over.”

Whumpee hesitated for a fraction of a second, eyes flickering with defiance and defeat.

As soon as Whumpee dropped the box cutter into his hand, Whumper’s fingers snapped closed around it. His cold gaze fell over the flimsy weapon with a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, just before tucking the cheap plastic knife into his back pocket. 

He shook his head in quiet disbelief.

“Oh, Whumpee…” he sighed.

Whumpee’s cheeks burned with shame. He never intended to use the box cutter maliciously. Or, at least, he knew he would never be capable of killing Whumper. He didn’t have a plan, he never did, he just needed to feel secure before he trying to find a way out of this fucking place.

After all, he was scheduled to die tomorrow. Surely Whumper didn’t expect him to accept his fate willingly. He had to fight back in order to stay alive.

“Sorry.” Whumpee whispered. 

He had so much to say, yet that was all that came out.

“Yeah.” Whumper murmured, “Me too.”

“I’m sorry…” Whumpee’s voice cracked. “Really, I wasn’t gonna hurt you, I, I don’t even think I could…”

“Sure, Whumps. I get it.” Whumper said in a soft, reassuring voice. He shifted awkwardly on his feet, exhaling. “You’ve been through a lot, I know.”

Whumpee’s shoulders sagged and he looked up at Whumper, searching his eyes for an ounce of compassion.

“But you fucked up big time.”

Whumpee’s breath hitched as he heard Whumper’s tone harden, the last trace of sympathy evaporating.

“Get up, Whumpee. I need you to turn around for me.”

His tone made it clear that any illusion of mercy was gone.

“Please. I’m sorry.”  Whumpee’s heartbeat thundered in his ears, panic bubbling in his chest. “I’ll do anything you want from here out, I’ll be good, I’ll listen--” 

Whumper laughed, a low, bitter sound. “Doesn’t make much of a difference now.”

“Turn around.”

“Please, just, give me a break. Just tonight. It’s my last night, I, I won’t try anything, please I swear to you!” Whumpee’s composure shattered as he choked out the words. “J-just, please, let me have tonight...”

“No.”

His gaze settled on Whumpee’s tear-streaked face.

“Sorry, Whumpee. You fucked up."

Whumper locked a pair of zip ties together behind Whumpee’s back. He instructed Whumpee to climb onto his cot, and made quick work of locking his ankles together too.

Tears gushed down Whumpee’s cheeks as the plastic ties snapped snugly into place.

“A box cutter. Really Whumpee?” Whumper’s grin grew, savoring the irony. “You risked it all, and that was your weapon of choice?”

Whumpee’s throat tightened, dread coiling in his stomach. His shoulders ached from the forced position, but he barely noticed, his mind was consumed with absolute terror. He could barely bring himself to look up as Whumper loomed over him.

“I’d laugh if it wasn’t so goddamn pitiful.” The tall man’s voice dripped with contempt. “The worst part is, well, I was gonna go easy on ya tomorrow. I picked up some good painkillers and booze to make it more comfortable for you.”

"You did?" Whumpee’s voice quivered, the hope fading from his eyes. “...really?”

“Heh, yeah. I wasn’t even going to tie you up.” 

Whumper leaned in, his tone dropping to a menacing whisper. “But now, comfort is off the table.”

Tears streamed down Whumpee’s cheeks. “I didn’t mean t--”

“But you did,” Whumper cut him off. “You did, and you went and fucked it all up didn’t ya?”

“I thought you liked me...” Whumpee mumbled, his words nearly swallowed by his own shame. “...don’t do this.”

Whumper shook his head as he rose to his feet. “It’s okay. You can still sleep on your side.”

“Whumper! PLEASE!”

“I can’t help you.” 

Whumper’s figure cast a long dark shadow across the wall next to the cot. 

Whumpee watched as the tall silhouette crossed into the light, swinging the heavy door closed with a thud, submerging Whumpee in total blackness.

((more Whump oneshots))

[ddejavvu]

idk if you've wrote this type of blurb before but if not maybe some hangman x reader were they aren't dating but friends and reader visits him and they go to a bar together and it's all very southern but reader doesn't know shit abt southern tradition and surprise surprise she puts on jakes cowboy hat as a joke 🤭🤭 the rest is up to you (just no angst please :') )

(If you wear a cowboy hat, you have to ride the cowboy)

Jake had tried briefing you on the way over. Don't get too cocky about the mechanical bull. You'll fall eventually. Careful not to step on anyone's toes, you might scuff their dancing boots. If you're going to dance, stick to the middle, that way there's always someone in front of you when the group turns to follow along with.

He'd just forgotten one minor detail, and you hadn't thought twice about snatching up his discarded cowboy hat as he wiped his brow of sweat. Perhaps you should have been deterred by that, the fact that the brim is slightly damp with his perspiration, but you didn't let it phase you, excited to look as southern as everyone else did.

You don't see his eyes widen until the hat is already securely on your head, and you grin at him, smug that you've managed to steal his look.

"What, Seresin? Pissed I look better than you?" You quip, but your smirk fades into confusion when his eyes trail down your front.

"Oh my god, are you getting turned on by this, or something? We should roleplay," You tease, slapping his chest, "I'll be the sexy cowgirl."

"Well darlin'," Jake finally finds his voice, laughing bashfully, "That ain't too far off from what you've just set yourself up for."

"Oh yeah?" You raise a brow curiously, "And what's that, Jake?"

"Well, there's this southern tradition," He explains, his typical cocky smirk flitting over his face as he leans sideways against the bar beside you, "That if you wear a man's cowboy hat, you've gotta ride the cowboy you stole it off of."

Your jaw drops for a quick second before you contain yourself, staring bewildered at him, "You- what? And you didn't warn me before I put it on? That's a stupid rule."

"It's not stupid," He grins, "It's perfect. And hey, think of it this way. You're savin' a horse."

[eeriepromis]

This post is part of a small series exploring Caleb’s failed psych test and what it reveals about his trauma, priorities, and coping mechanisms:

1. Caleb's Failed Psychological Test [link] [reddit] 2. Caleb's Failed Psychological Test | Caleb's Unfiltered Thoughts + Evaluation Reply [link] [reddit] 3. Caleb's Failed Psychological Test | Follow-Up Interview with Candidate Caleb Summers [reddit]

Evaluator: Dr. Elias Vance Candidate: Caleb Summers Transcript Status: Unsubmitted

[BEGIN TRANSCRIPT]

Dr. Vance: "Candidate Summers, thank you for coming in today. We have a few things to go over regarding your written evaluation." Caleb: "Of course. Happy to be here. Love a good existential interrogation." (Evaluator notes initial sarcasm but remains neutral.)

Dr. Vance: "Let’s start with your response to the first question. You were asked what you fear most when flying. You wrote, ‘It’s hard to get home in time.’ Can you elaborate?" Caleb: "Sure. It’s a logistical issue. Schedules don’t always line up, and, you know, space travel isn’t exactly forgiving when it comes to delays." Dr. Vance: "That’s… not quite what we were asking. Most candidates mention equipment failure, mechanical malfunctions, or loss of control. Your response suggests a personal attachment that outweighs self-preservation." Caleb: "I mean, if I die, I won’t be making it home anyway. So technically, the answer still fits." (Evaluator pauses. Scribes a note.)

Dr. Vance: "You mentioned that when overwhelmed, you distract yourself with workouts until the feeling ‘goes away.’ Do you think that’s an effective long-term strategy?" Caleb: "Depends. Do you need me to last a decade or just get through the next mission?" Dr. Vance: "That’s not an answer." Caleb: "But it’s a good question." (Evaluator exhales audibly. Adjusts glasses.)

Dr. Vance: "Your answer to how you handle extreme distress was, ‘Don’t make it other people’s problem. Fix the problem.’ Would you say you have difficulty asking for help?" Caleb: "Nope. I delegate all the time. Just last week, I told someone else to refill the coffee machine. True leadership." Dr. Vance: "That’s… not what I meant." Caleb: "Then maybe you should be more specific." (Evaluator marks response as ‘evasive.’)

Dr. Vance: "Let’s talk about your stance on therapy. You said, ‘Sounds like a great idea for other people.’ What about for you?" Caleb: "Listen, I’m sure therapy works wonders for people who enjoy unpacking their emotional baggage with strangers. I personally prefer to keep mine in a locked briefcase labeled ‘Do Not Open.’" Dr. Vance: "And you don’t think that might be a problem?" Caleb: "No, because the lock is really sturdy." (Evaluator scribbles furiously.)

Dr. Vance: "Regarding your response to whether you have intrusive thoughts, you wrote, ‘Sometimes I get stuck on thinking about things I should’ve done differently.’ Can you expand on that?" Caleb: "Pretty self-explanatory, doc. Sometimes you think back to a moment and go, ‘Wow, I could’ve handled that better.’ Then you try not to let it keep you up at night." Dr. Vance: "Does it keep you up at night?" Caleb: "It doesn’t not keep me up at night." (Evaluator underlines response twice.)

[A/N: I originally removed this question from the first post, but I've included it here since Caleb's response kept lingering in my mind.]

Dr. Vance: "Your file suggests you failed this assessment multiple times. Does that concern you?" Caleb: "Not really. I’m still flying, aren’t I?" Dr. Vance: "It suggests a pattern, though. Avoidance of emotional distress, prioritization of others over yourself, unwillingness to engage in self-reflection-" Caleb: "Look, doc, I appreciate the concern, really. But the way I see it, I’m functional. I get the job done. I don’t freeze under pressure. And if I ever do need a therapist, I’ll be sure to schedule an appointment… right after I survive my next mission." Dr. Vance: "And what if something happens that you can’t just ignore? That you can’t just work through?" Caleb: (Pauses. Shrugs.) "Guess I’ll deal with that when it happens."

Dr. Vance: (Exhales slowly.) "Final question. If you had to summarize yourself in one sentence, what would it be?" Caleb: "Too stubborn to die, too competent to get fired." (Evaluator sets pen down. Stares at Caleb.) Dr. Vance: "That’s… quite the motto." Caleb: "Right? I was thinking of getting it printed on a T-shirt." Dr. Vance: (Rubs temples. Ends interview.)

Final Evaluator’s Notes:

🔍 "Candidate remains evasive and uncooperative in self-reflection. Avoids discussing personal distress and repeatedly redirects with humor or sarcasm. Displays an apparent reliance on external validation and responsibility for others, often at the expense of personal well-being. While highly competent, candidate exhibits patterns of emotional suppression and avoidance that, if left unaddressed, could impact long-term psychological resilience. Therapy remains strongly recommended."

Caleb’s Unsubmitted Reply Letter to the Interview:

Dear Dr. Vance, First off, I want to commend your patience. If I had to deal with me, I’d probably be tired too. That said, I feel like we may have different definitions of ‘evasive.’ Just because I don’t enjoy unpacking trauma like a Christmas present doesn’t mean I have issues. Maybe I just don’t see the point in sitting in a sterile office rehashing the worst parts of my life for an hour. And yeah, I prioritize external responsibilities. Because someone has to. If it’s a choice between dealing with my own issues or making sure the people I care about don’t die, guess which one’s gonna win? As for therapy being ‘strongly recommended,’ look - I get why you’re saying that. But what exactly do you expect me to do? Walk in, sit down, and say, ‘Hey, doc, fun fact, I was experimented on as a kid, watched Mei die repeatedly, and was forced to use my Evol on living things against my will. Let’s unpack that, shall we?’ Yeah. That’ll go well. They totally won’t think I’m insane and lock me up for observation. Anyway, thanks for the concern. Appreciate it. Still not going to therapy, though. Hope that doesn’t keep you up at night. Sincerely (but not really), Caleb Summers

⸻

Note: Logo on the left of Header Image generated with AI.

[hgejfmw-hgejhsf]

Six Sentence Sunday!

My deepest and most heartfelt thanks to @kiwiana-writes, @anincompletelist, and @littlemisskittentoes for the tags this week. And thank you all, for reading the words that pop into my head and for letting me share it with the world. It has been...a not-so-great time over the last couple of days, and writing is something I can always come back to, so thank you for making me feel like what I have to say means something.

With all that being said, have more than six sentences of a drabble fail that I didn't expect to become what it has but that I'm looking forward to sharing with y'all when it's time, which will hopefully be soon!

“Your Royal Highness! Mr. Claremont-Diaz! A photo, please?” Alex, who had been avoiding Henry’s gaze since he was unceremoniously pushed onto the bridge for foreign dignitaries next to the prince, turns to find a pair of narrowed blue eyes already looking his way, an unspoken question written there. Alex answers by taking a hesitant step closer, with Henry mirroring his movement, both of them careful not to make any sort of physical contact before smiling their best press smiles, the corners of Henry’s lips pinched tightly. “Do either of you have a prediction for today’s race?” a voice calls from the sea of camera lenses. “Hopefully a bit of fun to be had by all in the midst of great tradition and sportsmanship,” Henry says, ever as neutral and lacking entirely in emotion as his bland presence. Alex blinks a bit longer than normal to keep his eyes from rolling before he notices that Henry has turned his bright blue gaze back on him. “As long as nobody ends up in the Thames, I think it’ll be a great day,” Alex teases, earning a chorus of forced, polite laughter from the gathered media. Henry huffs something between a chuckle and a cough, and Alex suspects it’s possibly the closest to an actual laugh the prince could ever manage.

Since I'm actually getting this out semi early, I feel like I can tag people! Tagging @oneofthewednesdays, @heybuddy-drabbles, @sparklepocalypse, @inexplicablymine, @affectionatelyrs, @arand0mdutchgirl, and any of my other loves out there who want to share their amazing works today! Please tag me if you do! I would love to see what y'all choose to share!

[btskitten7]

Midnight Bite| Introduction

Ship: Jeon Jungkook x Fem reader

au/genre: vampire!au royal!au arranged marriage.

rating: M

wc: 1.8k

Chapter warnings: little smut. POSSESSIVE JK. Blood mentions. (It's a vampy fic...) YOU ARE THE TOXIC ONE. JK is the perfect boyfriend.

summary: Jungkook, a powerful vampire king, is on a relentless pursuit to find his runaway bride. Their relationship is a complex dance of love, desire, and conflicting needs. Jungkook is determined to bring her back, but she yearns for freedom and independence. As the chase intensifies, the story delves into the complexities of their relationship and the sacrifices required to bridge their differences. Amidst a dark and mystical world, their destinies intertwine in a thrilling game of cat and mouse.

tagss: @shadowyjellyfishfest @baechugff @maunosorioh @shelylamc @princess-sunshyn @scuzmunkie @wanceu @coldcoffee2121 @maunosorioh @massivelyfullenthusiast

Jimin leaned against the polished wooden bar, his gaze fixed on his younger brother, a mixture of worry and frustration etched across his face. "Have you seen her?" he asked, his voice laced with urgency. Jungkook sighed irritably, his expression mirroring his annoyance. "I haven't seen her anywhere. I don't even know if she's arrived yet," he replied, his words tinged with exasperation. Jimin furrowed his brows, his curiosity getting the best of him. "But you're a vampire, a king no less. Why don't you simply command your servants to bring her to you?" he questioned, hoping for a simple solution. "If only it were that simple," Jungkook replied, Jimin poked his head up “Better yet, why don’t you find another? You have plenty of others at your feet.” 

“Well first,” He started “If it was that easy, don’t you think I would have done it already? She’s avoiding what she truly wants. It’s just her way of…testing me. She just wants to see if I will go to lengths to have her. Which I am. I don’t want another. I want what was promised to me. I want what I’m obsessed with. You would never understand brother.” 

Jungkook had a moment of reminiscing about an intimate moment between you two that almost stopped him in his tracks. Your touches, kisses, calling his name—it was all so addicting for him.  He knew another couldn’t give him what you gave him. 

He knew what you were running from but he wished you would just let him fix what needs to be fixed. 

He needed you to trust him and trust him fully. He has been proving himself to you for years now. He doesn’t know what else he could do to prove to you that he can be everything you ever needed but that never stops him from trying. 

Every time he would get you where he wanted you, you’d pull the rug from underneath his feet and vanish—starting the dreadful game yet again.

‘It’s not safe out here my princess, my queen.’ he murmured to himself looking through the crowd, trying not to get annoyed with all the sweaty humans bumping into him with this awful music playing in the background. 

Jimin growled as another sweaty jock bumped into him, spilling their beer all over his expensive suit. 

While Jungkook was patient, mainly because you were more important to him than some college boy looking for a fuck and cannot handle his liquor, Jimin was not. 

“Don’t lose focus brother. We need to bring my princess home.” Jungkook said as he continued to push anyone and everyone out of his way as your scent got stronger and stronger. 

“If one more of these lowlifes spill their beverage on me, we’ll be on the most wanted list.” 

Jungkook chuckled as he continued to move through the crowd, feeling your presence grow stronger and closer. 

“It wouldn’t be the first time. Hold it together, it’s not much longer brother, I feel my baby.” 

You were twirling your hair as you pretended to be interested in what this kid was talking about. He was going on and on about his car and how the blah, blah —you didn’t care. You were more interested in how he tasted. He got into a fight with some guys earlier, and you could smell his cut from a mile away, truly captivating you. You were hopeful he would taste delicious, you could tell from the scent he gave off. Truthfully, that’s the only reason why you were here. 

While he kept talking, you looked around the club growing bored with this conversation when your eyes landed on someone you hadn’t seen in so long. A small giggle left your lips as you knew that the night just got more interesting. 

‘Jungkook,’ you said bitterly, rolling your eyes the moment you locked a mutual gaze, just being a little teased as you were. Of course, he’d find you here. That’s what makes it fun. 

There’s no real reason as to why you were playing this game with him. He’s an amazing guy and he’s respectful. No red flags are to be seen. If anything, it was more of the terms to which you are agreeing. 

You wanted to be queen. You even wanted to be his queen. You just didn’t like that his parents already had a planned step-by-step timeline you two had to follow. 

‘You need to be married by this date and pregnant with your first child by this date. You need to make these appearances and make sure you are always doing this–’

It was too much for you. You liked to do things, naturally. Your parents always allowed you to do things more naturally, that was the reason you agreed to marry Jungkook because you were naturally attracted to him. You guys hit it off as soon as you had the first ‘date’. Both of your parents planned a ball for the two of you to meet and mingle. You and Jungkook were attached at the hip. You looked like a couple as you guys walked around the ballroom, dancing, talking, just enjoying one another.

He was perfect. He is perfect. The terms? Not so much. 

You knew it could be fun but with his parents having their hand in everything, you knew it’d be a pain in the ass. 

A smirk grows on Jungkook’s face as he heads closer to you until he sees the man you’re talking to. His smirk instantly turns to a frown. His tongue pushed the inside of his cheek as he grew closer. You followed his eyes on the man and smirked, turning your attention back to him, you gave him a flirtatious nod as if you’d been paying attention to his dreadful rambling. Your hand rested on the man’s lap as you laughed as if his joke was actually funny. You just wanted to piss Jungkook off. And boy did you do a great job at it. Seeing him so worked up and so possessive was toxic but it was the sexiest you’ve seen him. 

You are fully aware that you are the toxic one in this relationship.

Jungkook’s eyes were dark as he looked at the man next to you. Once he got close enough he snatched your hand off of the man’s lap, instantly.  

“What the fuck are you doing, sir?” Jungkook looked at the man with so much disgust but tried to remain as normal as he possibly could, but you could tell his attitude was flaring up. 

You giggled softly as you crossed your legs, allowing your already too-short of a dress raise to show your thigh. All three men look as your honey skin is exposed. Jimin cleaned his throat as he tried to look in another direction. The guy turns to Jungkook and begins to stutter to which you roll your eyes again. ‘Such a weak man’ you thought to yourself. 

Your perfectly manicured nails danced across the bar before you slightly turned the guy’s face back to you, tilting your head. 

“We were talking, right? Tell me more, baby.” You seductively continue, “You’re so sexy when you talk about cars. Please tell me more.” 

His jaw dropped at your voice and how you were talking to him. Jungkook was growing more irritated. The mere fact that you called this low-life baby and not him was fucking him up in the head. He couldn’t believe it. 

“I asked you a question. What the fuck are you doing, talking to my fiancée?” Jungkook smirked. 

“H-huh?! Y-your fiancee? Sh-she never said anything about being engaged” 

The man frantically looked between you and Jungkook as you sat there unbothered. 

“Why must you always ruin my fun, Prince, it was harmless,” you said in your native language between vampires to which Jungkook responded. 

“Because you’re mine, no matter what you think. The sooner you get that through your head the sooner we can get to the more fun parts” 

“I only wanted to feed. Can’t you see how yummy he smells?” You pouted and crossed your arms as Jimin held his hand out for you to hold onto. Giving him a small smile, you took his hand and stood to your feet. 

“Come, Princess. Let’s go now.” Jimin said. “I’ll take you feeding later,” Jungkook added. 

You rolled your eyes and allowed Jimin to escort you out of the club. 

~~~~~~

“Why do I have to chase you all the time? Why can’t you just stay put, Princess” Jungkook asked, rubbing your thighs softly. You laid your head on his chest as your right leg rested on his lap. 

“I was trying to feed. That’s all. I was coming back,” you mumbled. 

Jungkook chuckled and planted kisses on your neck. He loved it when you were obedient to him. Everything felt so perfect. 

“I know you, I’ve always had to come find you to bring you back home, you were never coming back. At least not until you needed me to fulfill your needs.” 

“That is not true! You always come to find me and  never give me a chanc-”

You bite back your response when you feel his hands push your legs open. A small whine falls from your lips. 

“If I won’t give you want you wa-want when you want it, w-why don’t you take your parents up o-on their offer of finding another?” You pushed out as his hands got close to your core.

“Because baby…” he started, “I don’t give a damn about what my parents want and you’re my property. I own you and you know I’m the only one that can make you feel good,” he expressed, grazing his fangs across your neck drawing another moan from your lips. 

“Y-you’re too controlling. You always think I’m doing something against you. I’d never hurt you, Jungkook.” 

Jungkook let out a bitter laugh in the crook of your neck. 

“Because you do shit like this. Time and time again, I’m out looking for you because you don’t know how to stay still. Daddy fucks you, you stay for a few weeks, then you leave. So disrespectful, baby.”  

His fingers worked on your core softly as he listened to your pants and moans fill the car. He had no regard for his brother driving the car who’s getting captivated by your moans as well. You hid your face in his chest as he still toyed with you, your wetness began to pool underneath you. Jungkook chuckled as he began to slip his fingers between your folds. 

“Are you ready to stay put and let me take care of you?” Jungkook whispered in your ear. 

He had you. You couldn’t escape this man, he has you wrapped around his finger. Literally. Finally, you decided to give up and give in to him. 

“Y-yess.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, d-daddy” 

”Jungkook chuckled pleased as you finally came to. 

“If you’d stay put like a good girl…we wouldn’t have this problem. Would we?”

[messysketchyobeyme]

“Hey, Lucifer,” you say, holding something behind your back, “do you want to see a magic trick?” You step up next to him and bounce on your heels. “It’s a classic from the human world.”

Lucifer, who had just been trying to make himself some breakfast, raises an eyebrow before saying your name in a mildly annoyed tone. “You’re a sorcerer. You can do actual magic. Why would I want to see you do some crude human world trick?” He grabs a carton of milk from the fridge and closes it.

You puff out your cheeks. “Uh, because it’s fun?” Your smile doesn’t falter, but it does tense slightly.

He places the carton on the kitchen counter and rolls his eyes. “Fine, just get it over with.”

Your grin brightens up the room as you pull your arms out from behind your back. Lucifer scrunches up his eyebrows when he realizes that you hadn’t been hiding anything in your hands this entire time. You reach out behind his ear and flick your wrist.

Something red crosses his field of vision. Lucifer blinks…and blinks again. You pull out a rose from behind his ear and hand it to him. You shake the flower slightly when he doesn’t immediately reach out to take it.

Lucifer tentatively plucks the rose from your hand and stares at it. The petals are a fresh, vibrant red color, and the smell is subtle but sweet. A couple of thorns are scattered along the stem. He pokes at one with his thumb, taking note of the indent left behind in his glove.

“Neat trick, huh?” you say. You then prance out of the kitchen, leaving Lucifer alone with his thoughts.

[whumblr]

Sorry

"Why don't you get on your knees and tell me how sorry you are."

Whumpee bristled, the large intake of breath raising them up to full height, fists clenched at their side. The air shuddered back out of them, their resistance following along right with it; their body untensed, they closed their eyes, their jaw unlocked. And so did their knees.

"Fine."

They cast a final furious glance up, but did as they were told, settling down on their knees. Fingers curled into the fabric of their pants leg, holding on tight to the last bit of control they had.

"Right." They took a deep breath, glared up and looked directly into Whumper's eyes.

"I am so, so not sorry for trying to get out of this stinking prison you call a house. Also really not sorry I almost kicked your teeth in. Actually, wait, I'm just sorry that I missed. Really, my most sincere apologies for that. Just, yeah, I'm incredibly unrepentant. And it will happen again. That's how sorry I am."

Not even halfway through that speech Whumper'd already started rolling up his sleeves. The 'actually, wait' made him stop and glance at Whumpee, but the continued spewed vitriol just made him shake his head as he folded his cuff down.

"Yeah," he said, stepping closer, curling a fist in Whumpee's hair and pulling them up. "Let's do something about that."

-

General whump tags cause I always forget with small posts: @firewheeesky @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @whumpawink @painsandconfusion @whumpifi

[holidayinhell]

CWs: blood, captivity Whump, failed escape Whump.

“You ran.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t ask if you were fucking sorry.”

He grabbed Whumpee’s face.

“You. Ran.”

He smacked Whumpee across the cheek. Hard.

The man crashed backwards onto the concrete from the blow. Grime cut into the exposed flesh of his torso as he awkwardly shuffled along the bottom of the cement wall, he desperately inched deeper down the hallway in a useless attempt to flee from his deranged captor.

Whumpee's eyes flashed between the man skulking towards him and the stairway at the end of the narrow passage. It was fifteen, maybe ten feet away. Freedom was so close, he only needed to make it up the steps! But Whumpee could barely keep his head up, much less walk, not to mention the ropes binding his wrists together. There was no way he’d get out.

A shadow fell over Whumpee's form.

“Stopstop stop. I did-didn’t--”

Whumper dropped to his haunches, locking his penetrating gaze to the shattered man’s wide eyes. Whumper had bloodshed on the mind. The killer’s gaze fixated on Whumpee with a cold fascination of a predator rearing to devour its prey.

A powerful surge of adrenaline coursed through Whumpee’s veins, urging him to find the strength to flee. But he couldn’t. With nowhere to run, the cocktail of epinephrine and all-encompassing terror made him freeze in place, he began hyperventilating so quickly he thought he might pass out. The broken man’s eyes squeezed shut.

 “Please. Y—you’re scaring me.”

“Then you’re about to be fuckin’ terrified.”

Whumpee squirmed against the ropes behind him. His busy fingers traced the lines, desperately praying he could burrow into a weak spot to unfurl. But, as always, ropes around his wrists were knotted with expert precision.

“Why’d you do it?” He snarled, grasping a fistful of hair and pulling Whumpee’s eyes directly into his terrifying, animalistic gaze. “Why did you fucking do it, Whumpee?” His wicked eyes demanded an explanation.

“I didn’t think.” He responded weakly. “I wasn’t thinking, I--.”

Whumper wound his arm back and delivered another bone-shattering smack across Whumpee’s cheek.

“Maybe I'll just cut out your tongue.”

“N-no. Please!! I was starving," the thin man pled frantically. "I thought you’d forgotten about me so I—ah, AHHH!”

The metallic smell of blood filled the air as a stream of blood trickled the length of Whumpee’s arm. Fuck, fuck.

“PLEASE!” Whumpee wailed.

Lightly chuckling, Whumper pulled the box cutter from the wound he'd buried in Whumpee’s shoulder.

“Try again, Whumpee. Why'd you run?" the killer demanded.

Whumpee tucked his legs into his chest protectively. “It was a mistake. I'm scared, I don’t know! You’re k-killing more people.” Salty tears cut clean tracks through the grime on his round, filthy cheeks. "Th-those girls from last week. And Caretaker-hic- you killed him too, I, I--!"

Whumpee's head raced uncontrollably as he fought to steady his breath, struggling to calm his mind from this waking nightmare.

“You stopped feeding me. It's been, I think five days, or, no, a week. I don’t know how long it’s been.” He fought the sob aching in the back of his throat. “I don’t know how long it’s been, I'm so hungry, I just...”

The small man let out a heartbreaking yowl when the knife slashed into his shin.

"Don't do this!" Whumpee shrieked.

Whumper offered no words of comfort. He loved seeing Whumpee like this, raw and trembling and begging for mercy.

Stripping away the man's pride had been a painstaking process, it had taken months for Whumpee to understand his rightful place. And now, finally, Whumpee’s soul was laid bare for the killer to devour. Nothing brought him more pleasure than watching Whumpee unravel.

“I-I know my...my r-ransom date. Is coming. And I know my parents are gonna pay up soon.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” The killer said quickly.

Whumpee’s eyes peaked over his bleeding legs, heavy tears rolling down his cheeks. He was so fragile and pathetic it was almost heartbreaking.

Whumper smirked, shaking his head in mock sympathy.

“Oh Whumpee. Life’s just a living hell for you, ain’t it? Ya can't wave your money around and get what you want like you used to.”

“Please. I’m sorry.”

An uneasy silence settled between them as Whumper's gaze raked over Whumpee. A bizarre, cruel grin twisted on his lips.

Whumper let out a nightmarish cackle.

“I can’t blame ya for trying.” He smirked. God Whumpee was fun.

“I’m sorry.” Whumpee repeated earnestly, sniffling. He exhaled. “I won’t be a problem for you ever again.”

The promise hung heavy in the air.

“I know that.” Whumper responded, nodded somberly, his eyes darkening. He rocked back on his heels and stood, his looming figure cast a shadow over the broken man.

 “Cuz I'm gonna have to kill ya.”

The blood drained from Whumpee’s face. 

“What a waste, too.” Whumper sighed. “You ruined something that was goin’ well for ya. I trusted you, I thought you were one of the good ones.”

“No-no, I’m good. I’m still good, I’ll be good! I’ll do anything yo—.”

Whumper drove his heel into the side of Whumpee’s face, sending his head crashing into the unforgiving basement floor. Pain exploded through Whumpee’s body, the unforgiving surface scraping his skin raw.

He lay still for a moment, breathless and stunned. The cold, hard cement pressed uncomfortably against his cheek.

"Don't. Don't."

“I need you to understand something: you lost your privilege to live the second you opened that fucking door.”

Barely above a whisper, Whumpee pleaded again. “Don’t hurt me. Please.”

Whumper flicked the boxcutter open.

“I’m gonna do a hell of a lot more than just hurt you.”

((more Whump oneshots))