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Bittersweet Belladona

PAIRING: Dark!Will Graham x Yandere!Reader x Dark!Hanninal Lecter

CONTENT WARNING: SMUT (18+ only, mdni) very dark Will Graham. age gap (reader is twenty two) mention of mental instability, unhinged behavior by all parties, dubcon, stalking, slight blood, choking, hair pulling, manhandling (reader gets her shit clapped) degradation and praise, mention of cannibalism, scratching, slight fluff at the end.

SYNOPSIS: Following along the bloody trail left behind renowned Psychiatrist Dr. Lecter and his kin, Will Graham, your sick obsession had made you somewhat better than the FBI at tracking down the two. In the shadows, you lingered and stalked them both like a new born shadow, oblivious to the fact that you were also captured in their sight. Your twisted infatuation with the two had you cornered soon enough, trapped in an empty museum with them.

You were lured in.

You should've known.

Just why would they commit a crime in the open museum if not to lure you in and trap you?

The two men circled you around like you were their prey, like the man they had killed and formed into a firefly with its wings spread out, hanging in the air. Wings that were made out of the man's skin — red flesh exposed. The sight was spectacular and you wanted nothing more than to click photos of it, capture it in the deepest darkest parts of your mind and savor it forever.

You stared at it in pure awe, not registering the fact that you were trapped.

“Beautiful, isn't it?”

It was Will’s deep voice.

Strained and dry, it made you feel something dark inside your chest. You flinched at his voice, retreating a step back but all you felt against your back was Hannibal’s hard chest, as you crashed into him. His tall figure towered over you and you moved forward, in an attempt to get away from him.

“Beautiful like her.” Hannibal spoke, voice cutting the silence like butter. “But too bad she lacks manners, don't you think?”

All you wanted to do was stalk them, learn more about how their minds worked and get to know them. You had never found their acts of violence disgusting, no. It was simply human, their flaws and the gruesome darkness concealed behind their beautiful faces. It was all too fascinating for you but you knew all too well what the two men were capable of.

The proof was levitating right up in the air.

“Following us around, stalking us. Even going as far as to hacking our phones to eavesdrop on our conversations, how fucking impolite and ill mannered.” It was Will, as he snapped at you. Your face set ablaze underneath his searing gaze, feeling terrified as he stared at you.

A look of disgust in his eyes.

“She might as well be the next Freddie Lounds.” You wanted to hide away from the way Will was glaring at you. Glasses long gone, curly strands slicked back as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Your lips trembled. “I—”

Your throat was parched, running dry in an instant as you attempted to speak and come up with some sort of excuse to your bad behavior. You felt like a child trapped between two adults, anticipating a very bad scolding, maybe even a beating too.

“You're scared, hm?” Hannibal reached for your face, squeezing it between his hand. Your lips forming a forced pout. You were trembling in his hold, as resilient as you were.

You'd decided to follow them, in a way, finding solace in them. The cannibalistic murderers of Baltimore, murder husbands, the FBI profiler who eloped with his cannibalistic psychiatrist. Everytime you saw them on the news, you felt a connection form between you and them and tug you towards them. It was profound, what you felt for them and how the people to whom you were an unknown person comforted you.

Without their own acknowledgement.

You didn't want to die.

As much as you had nothing to live for, other than the delusions that you were meant to join the two— you were an empty shell. An unstable mind wandering the world with nowhere to go. You attempted to make a run for it as soon as you felt Hannibal’s grip loosen. Bolting for the large door, your hand nearly grasped onto the golden knob and pulled at the door but Will was quick to run after you, grabbing your hand and pushing you up against the wall next to the door.

His palm laid straight on your cheek, forcing the side of your head along the wall. Holding you firmly in place all while you struggled and became a sobbing, sputtering mess. Pain blossomed in the side of your head, throbbing and roaring through your skull. Like it could grow two large heads more. The rough manhandling caused tears to pool in your waterline, threatening to drop.

You felt horrible, didn't know what was so wrong about wanting to get to know them on a deeper level as they provided you with comfort. Feeling a bit dumbfounded and stupid.

“Please—”

“Shut the fuck up.” Will nearly growled in your ear, a shiver of terror dancing up your spine.

You watched, in your blurred peripheral vision, a figure moving in next to you. It was obviously Hannibal and you stared at him with a plea clear in your eyes.

“She looks so afraid.” He commented, moving his gaze from your face to Will’s. The man still locking you in place. “She's pretty too.”

“I hate to agree.” Will sternly said, with a hint of frustration in his voice.

You struggled and squirmed, all futile and not enough to help you get your freedom. Will’s hand tangled in your hair, fingers grabbing a bunch of your hair and fisting them. He dragged you from the door and tossed you right across the vast space on the floor, watching as your body collided with the hard marble.

You didn't waste a single second in scurrying away from them both. Now you were the prey and they were the predator, stalking upto you like you were their food. Which, you were pretty sure you were going to become. You didn't mind but you couldn't die with a heart aching to be understood, to be seen.

“She deserves a punishment, no?” Hannibal said to will, voice laced with mischief.

You shook your head. “Sorry—so sorry.”

Your tears and apologies were falling upon deaf ears. Will reveled in the feeling of seeing you this helpless, at this mercy and he knew he could crush you beneath his shoe like a dying little bird. Hannibal was more interested in Will and your dynamic, how you craved to be in his presence yet were terrified of him.

He found it endearing, even.

“Oh no, apologies won't cut it, pretty girl.” He said, in a hoarse voice. “I'm gonna make sure you never ever do something so silly like this ever again.”

Fear had consumed your whole being. Fingers trembling and breath hitching. Heart beat pattering like wild raindrops against a glass window. You could feel it thumping in your ears, as nausea took over you. The urge to throw up all over the floor fought to dominate you but you didn't allow it.

“What were you thinking?” Hannibal asked, squatting down next to where you were on the floor, back pressed into an old viking artifact. “Following dangerous men like us around. Just what did you believe you would achieve from it, if not your demise?”

You gulped, staring between the two men.

Glancing at Will and cowering under Hannibal’s gaze.

You didn't dare speak a word. The letters of the word ‘comfort’ burning the tip of your tongue but you didn't say it. The fear that wafted off you was almost arousing for Hannibal Lecter. His strong ability to smell emotions and feelings helping him smell your fear and anxiety.

“Answer him.” Will ordered, reaching forward and squatting down next to Hannibal in front of you. His hand extended out and collected the hair straight from your roots, tugging onto them. It hurt, the burning sensation spreading along your scalp as your neck was craned up.

You stared at him, a lone tear sliding down.

“J-Just wanted to see, w-wanted to see how you both do it.” Broken words uttered by your broken self.

Hanninal and Will looked at each other, seemingly communicating through their minds as their eyes spoke. Hannibal nodded and Will’s attention shifted back to you, this time staring at you with a different type of void behind those blue eyes of his. His grip tightened and you whimpered, fueling your tears.

Then he leaned down and in a rough kiss, captured your lips. Teeth clashing against your skin, tugging and biting on it. Your little fists tried to push him away from you, banging on the expanse of his chest. He didn't budge at all. Will had newfound determination to break you, to break you in order to put your pieces back together.

In a way he'd liked.

Hannibal knew as manipulative as he was, Will Graham was a cunning boy.

You felt him sink his teeth into your lower lip, piercing the skin enough to evoke blood. A trail dripping down, accumulating at the round of your chin. Vision blurry and eyes squeezed tightly, you cried and cried while struggling. It only worsened your situation as you felt someone behind you— taking a hold of your small fists and restraining them behind your back.

Hannibal held you in place tightly, giving full access to Will to have his way with you.

Your lungs expanded, in desperate attempts to suck in air but all you felt was Will’s tongue slipping past the entrance of your mouth. Colliding with yours, like snake, wrapping around it and in a way, the man was fucking your mouth.

Plunging his tongue in an out of your mouth.

Saliva, blood, tears. All of these liquids proved your demise, though not forever. You knew after Will or both the men are done with you, you'd be different. You'd be dead and you'll be reborn.

“Will, do you intend to end her life with a kiss?” Hannibal called out and the man finally, finally retrieved his tongue and broke apart from you.

Terrified to open your eyes, you let them stay shut. You could feel the hot breath of Will mingling with your own, chest moving vertically up and down. Lungs dragging in as much oxygen as the organs could, unaware of when they'll be allowed to breathe ever again.

“Open your eyes.” Hannibal’s hands caressed your wrists as he whispered in your ear.

You didn't listen and that was a grave mistake. That somehow managed to piss Will off more than you invading their privacy. Your disobedience towards Hannibal and as he walloped his hand across your cheek, a ringing sound entered your ears.

It was loud, everything becoming a blur to you.

Just how hard had he hit you?

Your eyes were opened and you blinked profusely, now finally capturing the man in front of you. You noticed the swell of his lips, as well as the blood that was smeared all over it. His slicked back hair now messed up in a few strands dancing over his forehead. You didn't stop your cries this much, soft little sobs echoing in the spacious museum.

“Will,” Hannibal warned. “She's fragile, you shouldn't be this aggressive.”

“She's strong and she knows it. A fragile little girl wouldn't stalk two men all the way from the US to Italy, would she now, princess?” You shook your head.

The obedience you had shown by responding immediately was satisfying for both of them. The slap had worked, and Hannibal took a hold of your chin, moving your face towards him. His scrutinizing gaze hovered over your busted lip. “It's bleeding, poor you. Will is really cruel, isn't he?”

The sheer rudeness and strictness Will Graham expressed and showcased was in complete contrast to Hannibal’s sweet, gentle demeanor. Its like one was meant to leave bruises while the other bandaged those same wounds.

“Please.” You pleaded, completely unaware of what you were actually pleading for. You knew that even if they were to let you go, you would still continue to stalk the men. You couldn't survive separation and it wasn't like you wanted to live with the two or be roommates, no.

You were more than okay with striving in the shadows, only admiring them from afar.

How did they catch you?

Were you that obvious? That obsessed and infatuated that you hadn't realized these men could outsmart you?

Will stared at you, the scared look on your face stirring something primal within his chest. You looked so beautiful, so broken and he saw himself in you. He saw who he was before meeting Hannibal and this — what he was about to do to you — could be your breakthrough.

They could be your pillars.

Hannibal was in absolute awe of the beauty you possessed and were. Just the raw vulnerability you exposed and how dedicated you were to stalking them, it was all endearing to him. To him it felt like you harbored romantic feelings for him, for them both. Like a puppy following its owners.

“Tie her up.” Will said to Hannibal and he nodded — immediately getting to work. Despite the amount of tears you shed, the struggling and the pleadings, it didn't bother them one bit. Hannibal had found a rope, magically and it made you realize all the more of how deep you had fallen into the well.

They came prepared.

Oh they had thought everything out.

They were looking forward to this.

“No, n-no, please. Listen to me.”

Didn't matter. You were nothing but a lifeless little doll, a plaything to keep them entertained. Hannibal tied you up, hands behind your back. Each knot tightened to the point of purple bruising, his hands skilfully moving across your body. It wasn't just your hands he tied, he'd restrained your arms too and the pain begun in your shoulders.

Both of them looked at you, sitting on the floor, tied up. Your dress had riled up to your thighs in the endeavor and it exposed your soft flesh, which seemed to be an invitation for the two men. Hannibal could only think how you'd taste, drenched in honey and garlic, sizzled on a barbeque. The flesh roasted and sprinkled with diced coriander.

Meanwhile Will could feel his cock becoming hard at how fucking hopeless you seemed. Just sitting on the floor, soft little sniffles falling from your lips. Even a few hiccups here and there too. A red handprint on your cheek a clear indication of your disobedience. It was a sight he wouldn't mind if he were to witness it for the rest of his life with Hannibal.

Will leaned down to you, sitting next to you as his hand reached for the exposed flesh of your thighs. When his soothing fingertips touched your skin, you flinched. That act of yours and how unwilling you still were made him tighten his grip on your thighs, nails leaving crescent moons all over the skin.

“You could've chosen a different path. A different life, different interests than the ones you have right now.” There was almost a heavy sadness to his words. Like he missed the person who he was, somewhere deep inside his mind. “Yet you got yourself into such a mess. Trapped with two men. Do you have any idea what we'll do to you, pretty girl?”

You shook your head.

“If you knew coming here would have you end up like this, would you still go through with it?” He stared at you, in anticipation, searching for the answer in your blurry gaze but he didn't need to.

As you nodded your head. Proving the unstable state of your mind. Despite knowing things would end this way, you'd come to this place over and over again. They had noticed you, they'd seen you, felt you. How could it get any better? Yes, you were hurt but did it really matter? It was worth seeing the two perform their art in all its glory.

Hannibal stared at Will and the man scoffed — shaking his head. “You're such a braindead little thing, aren't you?”

You lifted your eyes up from the floor you were on, confused. The confusion gave you the look of a lost puppy, who had no idea just what was even happening to it. Puzzled and all over the place, terrified and lost.

“She's a peculiar one.” Hannibal commented, one hand slipped inside his pocket. “Should we take her?”

“We'll decide that when she's proven to be worthy of it.” His hand inched closer and closer, riding further up your thigh and between them. Your breath hitched, body shivering as you felt his fingers brush against your clothed cunt.

You were already soaked, as confused as you were about it. They had humiliated you, disrespected you, hurt you yet your panties were saturated. Upon feeling the slick coating your inner thighs, Will let out a dark chuckle and showed his fingers to Hannibal.

The slick glistening against the bright lights.

“She's not some innocent little girl. Her cunt is drenched, Hannibal. All because of how we treated her, like some whore.”

You squeezed your thighs together, not wanting Will to pry more but he did. Both hands at both knees, he parted your thighs open fully and exposed you to the lascivious gaze of himself and Hannibal. The wet spot on your beige panties the perfect innuendo that you were aroused, like some fucking animal and it grossed you out.

Why were you feeling this way?

Will’s hand lowered to your cunt, his thumb flat against your covered clit. He moved it in slow, circular motions, watching you in exciting anticipation. Your body twitched, hips immediately beginning to writhe and he scoffed. Your reactions were fucking adorable, both the men in complete awe.

You still wanted out — as good as this felt.

You struggled, squirming your hips and trying to stray further from him but Will grabbed your leg, putting his own over it to refrain you from moving. You whimpered at his heavy weight on your leg, as he continued his ministrations on your cunt. He then finally peeled the panties off you, sliding them down yout ankles and tossing them to the aside.

“Fuck, such a pretty pussy.” He whispered, Hannibal also joining him on the floor.

Both of them stared at your cunt like it was a meal they both had craved for a very, very long time. A fresh set of tears fell as Will parted your pussy open with his thumbs, pink flesh coated with creamy arousal.

Hannibal shifted behind you, pulling you between his own legs. Both his hands caressed your sides, slowly riding upto your breasts. Fingers kneading into the plush of your tits and dragging your dress down, watching the fat mounds bounce out. His own cock hardened at the sight.

Hannibal loved the female body, how beautiful and different it was than a man's. Innocence seeped into it, like a fresh drop from the sun and a tear of the moon.

You looked up at him and shook your head, squirming. “Stop —no. Not right, not right.”

At your resistance, Will delivered a sharp smack across the stripe of your cunt. Watching as the pink deepened. He slid a finger inside you and you whimpered, gaze fixated on Hannibal. The men simultaneously toyed with your body, having their way with it and you could only sit there helplessly and sob.

“She's tight, even around my finger. I wonder how she'll take both of our cocks.” Will’s comment made Hannibal’s concealed cock throb. A low rumble escaping his chest, vibrating against your back. “Don't tempt me, Will.” Hannibal warned, his fingers pinching and tugging at your hardened peaks.

Will soon inserted another finger, staring up at you. He found you disrespectful and downright rude. Somewhere you reminded him of a certain redhead, with how you lurked everywhere in the shadows wherever they were. But he knew you were nothing like Freddie Lounds. You did not possess the same greed she did, the same lust for fame and content.

Instead he saw darkness. The type of darkness that matched his own — a reflection of his own self. He plunged his fingers in and out of you, curving them and gaining access to that sensitive spot. As he hit it, your gummy walls tightened around his digits, greedy cunt sucking them in.

Meanwhile Hannibal forced you to look at him, one hand still toying with your perky tits. He stared down at you, finding you endearing. How you cried, every movement of your little body. The tears pooling in your waterline, the way your lips shivered and produced small sobs, how the fear flashed in your gaze once in awhile. You were so broken and so damaged, he wanted to fix you right up.

By breaking you apart.

“You should've expected this to happen. Stalking dangerous men like us, while being so frail and fragile yourself. Just what did you expect to happen, hm?” His grip tightened on your wrist, as he stared at you.

You had no words. There was nothing on your mind, other than the realization that you were trapped and had nowhere to go. There was no one coming to your salvation and the thought terrified you more than anything. The complexities of your own emotions and thoughts warring together only left you further braindead.

Hannibal captured your lips. At first the kiss was sweet, gentle even but soon you realized it was only to swallow your little sounds. Every time Will bruised your sensitive spot, Hannibal swallowed a gulp of your whimper. These two were like wolves, consuming and sucking the blood out of their prey.

He continued kissing you, prying your mouth open and mingling his tongue with yours. The fact that you still had Will’s saliva in your mouth, also dribbling down your chin and Hannibal kissed the same mouth. It was all too taboo to not turn you on. Your hips shuffling a little only for Will to press his own leg harder down on yours.

Will stared at you both, watching with a burning gaze as Hannibal practically sucked the soul out of you. He scoffed a little, remembering Hannibal’s words from earlier at how he almost ended you with a kiss. The man was doing the same now, just with a much gentle tone.

He didn't even allow you to inhale or breathe, lips locked against yours in a tight firm kiss. You struggled, attempting to move here and there but it didn't work at all. He continued devouring you like you were his last meal. He kissed differently than Will. He kissed with the intention to eat you, with the intention to savor you for the rest of his life.

It was too passionate for you to ignore. Tears sliding down your face. “You can't eat her now, Hannibal. Don't end up biting her tongue off.”

Will’s words made Hannibal stall for a moment, registering what the man had said. He was right, Hannibal couldn't actually eat you now and from how sweet you tasted, he wanted to bite your fucking tongue off and decorate it with your white teeth.

He backed out, after relishing in the taste you had to offer. Hannibal almost flinched at how fucked out you appeared, from a mere kiss. Your vision had blurred, your mind hazy and your cheeks red. You stared at him, partially lost and numb and then more tears slid across your face.

“Let's take her over to the table.” Will passed an order and Hannibal complied, picking you up within seconds. Your legs resting on his waist, as he carried you to the table.

It was somewhere in the back, concealed in a dark corner. Hannibal laid you down against it on your stomach, and you kicked. Your little kicks delivering to his leg but it didn't affect him at all. Your act of disobedience was like drops of fuel against a fire and it angered both of them. Hannibal’s fingers circled around your ankles, holding them in place.

Will walked over to the two of you, and his fingers drowned in your locks. Grabbing a fistful of it, he craned your neck up and made you look at him. “You fucking brat.” Will slapped you across the side of your face, watching you with a burning stare.

Incinerating pain grew on your right cheek as you slowly regained your senses back and registered the slap. Blood trickled down your chin, the source being your busted lip. The trail cold and dark. “S-Sorry.”

“Oh you'll be fucking sorry when we're done with you, whore.” Will turned to Hannibal. “You take her cunt, I take her mouth. She'll know just how easy we were being on her.”

“Don't end up damaging her.” Hannibal responded, grip tightening on your ankles. “I have taken a liking to her, she'll be good entertainment.”

“Fine.” Will replied with a groan.

Then you caught his attention, again. How unlucky you were. You watched as he unzippes his pants and your eyes widened in horror, hearing another zip being pulled down right after Will’s. You shook your head but it caused Will’s grip to tighten.

As he pulled out his cock, you heard shuffling behind you as well. Will tapped his fat tip against your cheek, then slowly running it along your sealed lips. “Are you going to open up or do I have to force you?”

You contemplated. You really contemplated and the slap made you more pliant, as you parted open your lips. On the other hand, Hannibal had pushed your legs apart, his own cock in his hand. He slowly guided it inside you and when you felt his thick head enter you, a high pitched moan echoed within the walls of the museum.

Will pulled your hair. “Stick your fucking tongue out.”

And you obliged. Ashamed and embarrassed, you stuck your tongue out and Will slapped his fat cock flat against it a few times before driving it inside the wetness of your mouth. Feeling them both enter you at the same time, one inside your cunt and the other dominating your mouth. You cried out in pain.

Hannibal looked down at how your pussy hugged his cock, barely halfway through and a low growl rumbled from his chest upon seeing the ring of blood around his cock.

You were a virgin.

“She's a virgin Will.” Hannibal called out, pushing himself deeper inside you. To a point where no one else has been. “Poor girl probably wanted something sweet, something gentle for her first time.”

Will practically melted at the fact that you were a virgin. Completely untouched. He wondered how could that be possible with the way you appeared and how your body was carved by the gods them selves? But he didn't care. It was perfect. You were perfect.

Made for them.

Crafted for them by the same god they both resented.

Will’s gaze dropped down at you, watching you as your lips squeezed around his cock and sucked him in. “Ever sucked a cock before, princess?”

The term which was usually used for endearment sounded so ironic when it came from Will. Like he was mocking you, using it to taunt you. He didn't mean it when he called you that. He was only using it to make you feel horrible, calling you a princess while treating you worse than a peasant.

You shook your head. You were foreign to the idea of such explicit activities before this very night but now, you were stuffed two cocks. One in your mouth and one in your cunt.

You felt Hannibal’s cock grow thicker inside you at the information, its veins throbbing against your gummy walls. A muffled cry of despair left you as Will continued sliding his cock further into your mouth. “If I feel one tooth, I will punch them right out of your mouth. Got it?”

You inhaled through your nose, nodding.

“Good.” Will released your hair as both his hands settled against your face. He held your face, the head of his cock pushing past your palate and uvula as a loud groan mixed in with your muffled whimpers. He snapped his hips, not caring that you were choking all over his cock.

Saliva trailing down your chin, making a mess around your mouth. You moved your shoulders, all the while Hannibal held you tightly against the table by your hips and fucked you like some wild beast. Both men used their full strength, snapping their cock inside you and it left you light headed.

“She's squeezing me in so much, almost as if she likes this.” You heard Hannibal grunt, his cock slamming against your cervix. From how hard his fingernails dug into your flesh, you knew your skin was bloodied by now.

Hannibal’s gentle demeanor was out the fucking window, replaced with the monster he truly was.

As Will’s cock slid along the surface of your tongue, his hips bucked and he fully bottomed out in your mouth. You could feel his head at the back of your throat and gagged all over it, tears splattering out of your eyes. It was all a mess. You couldn't even breathe anymore and let out little screams — which were muffled and only worked as vibrations against Will’s throbbing length, nearing him to his orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck. I bet her little cunt is as tight as her mouth. It's like I'm fucking a pussy.” Will whimpered, slurring out soft little pants.

Hannibal groaned in respond. “Show me her face, Will. Right now.”

Will nodded, pulling out of your mouth only for a few seconds as he flipped you on your back and pushed your head up, holding it for Hannibal to witness the mess he'd created out of you. A mirror with broken shards, showing Hannibal a reflection of himself.

He almost came at the sight of you.

Looking so fucked up. Hair a mess. Lips bruised, bloody and swollen. Tears and saliva running down in rivulets. You were a fucking sight for sore eyes and Hannibal wanted this every single day. He needed to witness this every single day.

And he never needed anything.

“So beautiful. So fucking—” He snapped inside you, his pace becoming rough and animal like thrusts founding their way against your bruised spot. “beautiful but such an impolite little girl.”

He spat as the sound of skin against skin echoed in the room. Bouncing off the walls of the museum, reaching the carved out ancient ceiling. The cupids listening to each and every noise made in sin.

Will dropped your head down, your neck bending slightly as he shoved his cock back inside your mouth. This new position gave him all the power to fuck your mouth thoroughly, watching as the imprint of his cock inside your throat formed against your skin. Bulging and moving along the skin.

It turned him on like nothing else.

He glared at you, eyebrows furrowed in pure pleasure, lips parted to allow heavy pants escape it. Will Graham looked fucking breathtaking when the sweat trickled down his forehead. You were wondering if this was that bad, if them taking you against your will was anything bad.

But it was the pleasure getting to your head.

Of course this was morally wrong and fucked up.

But who had morals in this room?

One was a cannibal, the other was an accomplice and murderer and you were an unhinged stalker.

“Fuck you looking at huh?” He asked you, abruptly slapping your chest. Your back arched and you let out a whimpered cry, almost tempted to use your teeth.

But you were well aware what that act would cost you.

Will gasped out, feeling his orgasm nearing while Hannibal looked at Will. He could only admire the view before him and as he fucked your cunt, his own orgasm came knocking at his door. Both of them imitated each other's pace, fucking you like wild animals during mating season.

They came soon and the intimacy of them cumming together was so intense. Hannibal’s load shot out, coating your gummy walls and filling you up to the brim. Will’s thrusted, and as you subconsciously tightened your mouth around him, the man also released into your mouth.

His moans had evolved into whimpers and gasps, breathing ragged as he emptied himself inside you. Balls throbbing and hips bucking. It was fucking intense, for both Hannibal and Will. His fingernails dug into the wood for support, fucking your mouth leisurely to ride out his orgasm. Hannibal had left marks on your thighs and hips from how roughly he'd gripped them, as well as blood trails from his nails.

Coated in your own blood, your once untouched and unclaimed skin was now drenched in sin �� purity long snatched by the hands of the devil himself. In your case, both Hannibal and Will relresented the Devil. Falling angels they were.

As Will pulled out from your mouth, he caught a glimpse of all his load sitting there in your mouth. It's taste salty and texture thick. Something you'd never ever experienced in your mouth.

“Swallow it.” He ordered and you shut your mouth, swallowing it all. It felt gross and weird against your throat but you didn't complain, only a look of grimace crossed your face.

You still hadn't cum.

Your body twitching and aching. Your cunt screaming for its own release, knots building up in your stomach and thighs convulsing. You were close too but Hannibal stopping made you let out a whimper of frustration.

“Look at her, Hannibal. Twitching and whimpering for a release, huh.” Will scoffed, lips shuddering as he inhaled long chains of oxygen.

Hannibal pried open your hole with his thumbs, watching as his cum oozed out of you and pooled on the table. Your gaping hole sputtered, more cum leaking out and Hannibal licked his lips at the sight. “Although she has not been an obedient girl, I think she deserves her release too for taking us so well. Don't you, Darling?”

You nodded.

You needed this feeling of intense desire and wanton to disappear. This frustration that bit at your stomach, nipped away little pieces of flesh.

Will walked over to Hannibal as the man took you into his arms, sliding his cock back inside you. This time Will sat on top of the table, his half soft cock fully hardening at the evil idea that cooked in his mind. He held your ass, opening it with both his hands and slowly pressing his tip against your rim.

Your eyes widened. “N—No.”

“Still resisting us? Knowing we've claimed you, all of you? How naive.” Hannibal commented, face only a few inches apart from yours. He slid his cock inside your cunt as Will lowered you onto his. The two men were gonna tear you apart, you knew that.

Their girth and length were both something you couldn't handle, not at once at least. But Will didn't care — and Hannibal shared that. Feeling the burning stretch in your ass, you shrieked as Will entered you. A tear slid down your face, disappearing into your parted lips as Hannibal held you for Will.

“It hurts— hurts please.” You cried, like a broken doll and Hannibal pressed a kiss against the corner of your lips. “It'll feel better soon. You shouldn't feel pain. You're only a set of holes for our pleasure, aren't you?”

You didn't answer, too lost in the searing pain in your bottom. Will wasn't even half way through, you could feel it and yet it felt like you were being ripped apart. Hannibal’s cock stayed inside you, not movinf at all. Allowing Will to first adjust himself inside you.

“Answer me.” Hannibal held you with one hand, as he lightly smack you with the other.

You nodded. “Yeah, only a set of holes for your pleasure.”

Hearing you accept it like this, so vocally and out loud. Will lost it and slammed you down onto his cock, bottoming out. Pain bloomed in your ass and you screamed but before it could reach the ears of people somewhere outside the museum, Hannibal captured your lips in a rough kiss.

He licked at your tongue, teeth against teeth while fucking into you slowly. Will sat there as Hannibal moved you up and down on his cock and the burning sensation only grew with each thrust. “Stupid fucking whore. Just what was going through your head, this young and dedicating your life to stalking men twice your fucking age. It's like you wanted this to happen to you, yeah? Two cocks in you at once.”

Will’s filthy words was like alcohol, and blitzed you were. Guilt consumed you and somewhere their manipulation was seeming to work on you in this vulnerable moment. You should've know better. This was bound to happen. Just what were you expecting? That they would invite you into their lives with an open, warm embrace?

You were so fucking stupid.

Hannibal parted from you, his forehead pressed against you as he settled you down against Will’s thighs. You sniffled, feeling his cock all the way inside your ass as Hannibal used your cunt. You felt nothing more than some whore that was here for their pleasure, their sake.

Your stomach flipped and churned, a disclaimer that your release was near. Your thighs shook terribly and when Will pushed upward, you surged forward and leaned against Hannibal’s chest. You tightened around them both, toes curling and eyes squeezing shut.

“Oh she's close. I can feel her. She's gonna snap my fucking dick in half.” Will grunted, as you twitched. Then it came. That strong, bone chilling feeling of pleasure, consuming your whole being. Eyes witnessing white and lips agape, high pitched moans slurring out and tainting the purity of the museum.

You felt the potent need of release take over you ans you gushed out, squirting all over the men. Your body going limp and losing all its strength, falling over to Hannibal. All you saw was darkness, as your eyes stayed closed and your chest moved up and down. Frame suffering from convulsions.

For a moment you thought they'd stop but what a mistake it was.

“She's made quite the mess, Will.” Hannibal commented, his button up soaked in your release.

Will released a hoarse chuckle, his chest rumbling. The man started fucking into your ass, watching as it revived you back but this time you had no resistance left in you. One orgasm had sent you over the edge, overestimated and sensitive. You whined into Hannibal’s chest, tears staining his shirt as Will continued fucking into you.

Hannibal was also in pursuit of Will, his cock carrying its assault on your cunt. Encouraging broken whines out of you. The two were also stimulated enough and after fucking you for awhile, they too came.

Feeling Will’s load in your ass was a weird feeling. It was uncomfortable but what made it even more uncomfortable was Hannibal’s cum leaking out of your cunt, as he fucked it back into you.

You fell against Will’s chest, head resting on his shoulder. Face drained and numb, no energy left in you whatsoever. You were so fucked out and numb — no expression on your face as you stared at Hannibal.

“She's fucked.” Will said, with a laugh as he stared at the worried expression on Hannibal’s face.

He tapped his fingers over your cheek. “Hey, can you hear me?”

You didn't respond. Completely broken and tired. You craved solace in that moment, absurdly from the two men who were the sole cause of all this. How fucked up could this situation get?

“Hey.” His taps on your cheek grew harder but you didn't respond. Will sat up straight, arm wrapped around your waist as he held you against him. “Fuck, I think we damaged her.”

“We?” Hannibal raised a brow.

Will narrowed his eyes at him. “Don't pretend as if you weren't manipulating her into thinking this was all her fault, all the while fucking her.”

Hannibal looked at you, also tapping at your face but to no avail. You were completely speechless and devoid of any human emotion. Like some fucking statue.

“All the fucking left her braindead huh.” Will whispered and then he leaned forward, pressed a soft kiss against you cheek. He shook your body lightly and there you were.

Staring at him, with your innocent eyes and his heart clenched. You still had remnants of who you were, just like all of them but he knew this would change you.

“There you are.” Hannibal said, a wave of relief washing over him. You stared between the two men and finally gathered the courage to reply to their question.

“Comfort.” Both their gazes narrowed in on you when you spoke, voice strained and almost gone from all the moaning you did. “You a-asked me what I believed I would ac—” You coughed out before continuing, “achieve from this. Comfort.”

Will’s jaw tightened.

Hannibal found you even more endearing than before. How foolish yet adorable of you to think being with them could bring you comfort. He caressed away the drop of nearly dried blood from your chin, watching it taint your skin further.

“Let's go, we're going home.” The blonde said — as Will nodded his head. He liked the idea of taking a broken person like you home, especially when you had chased them only as a means to seek comfort. He didn't know whether to think of it as something sad or something sweet.

But both of them had plenty of time to decide that, as they were taking you home.

[kyuujo]

↳ screen time!

↳ michael kaiser x fem!reader ↳ nsfw ↳ voyeurism, slightly dubcon (reader is recorded without explicit knowledge), mutual masturbation (sort of), perv!kaiser, voyeur!kaiser, solo male masturbation, language, dirty talk, fantasies, sexual tension(ish), sexual pining, overstimulation, i think i got everything pls lmk if you catch something!

↳ 1.3k words

↳ uwaaah dahlings!! thank you guys so much for 106 followers!! it means so much to me! i’m so happy i can provide some entertainment to so many of you <333 it makes me so happy to do that TwT) this piece is actually a repost from my (deleted) blog, and i’m thinking it’ll be the last repost i do (idk why but reposting just feels weird to me T-T) but i hope you guys enjoy!! thank you so much for reading (im so sorry that this note was so long i had so much to yap about)

kaiser knew he was abusing a system that he shouldn’t even have knowledge of — but he simply couldn’t control himself.

the instant ness had clued him in on that little piece of information about the camera system, kaiser’s mind shifted straight to you; cute, quiet, shy little you. and ness, bless his soul, didn’t question kaiser even once when he requested (demanded) that ness find a way to hack into the secondary cameras hidden within the personal rooms of the facility.

kaiser wasn’t sure why jinpachi ego had felt the need to install such a security system, but he was deeply thankful for it.

because there would be no other way kaiser could ever witness this beautiful sight over and over again — you laid out across your bed, legs spread and fingers working over time plunging into your sloppy little cunt.

slick squelches and soft moans echoed through the earphones and traveled straight to kaiser’s dick, which was already hard and leaking despite only having started the recording less than a minute ago.

that was just the visceral effect you had on him; you could brick him up instantly with just a single glance in his direction.

and seeing you like this — oh, the effect was catastrophic. kaiser swears his dick has never been harder before, that he’s never felt so turned on and sensitive, each stroke of his hand down the shaft electrifying and borderline overwhelming — and when he ran the pad of his thumb along the tip to collect the dripping pre his whole body nearly convulsed.

it was amazing, satisfying, and yet so, so torturous. because at the moment, all kaiser could do was stare at your pretty cunt swallowing your fingers and imagine how it would feel for those velvet walls to be closing around his cock instead.

and suddenly, his hand just didn’t feel good enough anymore — kaiser imagined you must have felt the same way about your fingers, given the scrunch of your eyebrows and how desperate your movements were; it just wasn’t enough. you clearly needed something longer and thicker to fill you up.

and kaiser could do that for you — oh, how he would make you feel so good. he’d slide his cock in nice and slow so could you could feel him inch for inch, so you could enjoy that satisfying stretch it’d give your tight little pussy. he’d fuck into you recklessly in the same way you’re doing with your fingers while whispering sweet little nothings in your ear just to feel your walls flutter around him.

“so good, meine schöne rose,” kaiser whispered as he tightened his fingers around his cock, eyes zeroed in on your fingers sliding into that sweet nirvana between your legs. for a moment, kaiser could almost convince himself that he was buried inside your tight little pussy and not his own hand. “keep going. that’s it.”

kaiser’s breathing was quickly laboring, his abdomen twitching and tightening with every quick stroke of his hand. your soft moans and whimpers spurred that heat within his gut, and if he closed his eyes and focused, kaiser could feel your plump lips against his ear, honeyed voice begging him to fuck harder, to fuck you completely stupid, until all you could think about was his cock —

kaiser’s eyes snapped open when his ears were graced with a particularly loud moan from the earphones, and that liquid heat in his gut ramped up to a boiling point at the sight he was greeted with.

your other hand had abandoned its stationary place on your stomach and was now rubbing fast circles against your pretty clit in time with your thrusting fingers, and your whole body was trembling from the new stimulus. kaiser had seen this enough times to know exactly what was soon to come.

“oh, sweet girl.” kaiser murmured reverently, chest fluttering and hand picking up speed around his cock. “so fuckin’ pretty like that.”

and you were — you were so fucking breathtaking. eyes slipped shut and plump lips parted to release those sweet, sultry moans; fingers sliding into the prettiest folds and rubbing against the cutest clit; that perfect body trembling and shaking.

it was a vision of pure erotic perfection that was etched permanently into kaiser’s mind; a vision that he craves to see in person while he ravages you with his cock.

“c’mon, meine rose. you’re so close.” kaiser cooed, hand jacking his cock so fast that his wrist was beginning to ache — but there was no way he was going to slow down, not when you were both so close, hanging onto the precipice of pure rupture. his gut clenched almost painfully and his balls twitched, signaling the fast approach of his climax.

“i’m gonna cum, sweet girl. mmh — fuck, ah — you’re gonna make me cum — i’m coming —”

kaiser had to bring his other hand up and clamp his teeth around it to muffle the sounds that bubbled up in his throat. all it took was three more strokes and he was exploding, warm, sticky ropes shooting all the way up to his chest. kaiser couldn’t even control the moans that slipped out, nor could he control the way his hips jerked up to fuck his cock into his tight fist as he rode out his orgasm, eyes glued to the screen in front of him.

your escalating moans seemed to add even more fuel to the fire, stretching out kaiser’s orgasm to the point that his cock became almost unbearably sensitive — but he kept pumping his fist slowly, keeping his cock alive as he reached forward with a shaky hand to restart the video.

“just once more, meine schöne rose. make me cum one more time.”

[webbluvrsugar]

unsub!reader x Spencer’s late night conversations…

Spencer doesn’t know what got him to talk to you, maybe it was the danger that came with it, maybe even the look in your eyes when you met for a first time because you hacked into his phone and asked him out, he didn’t know why he kept talking to you, but all he knew was that… he couldn’t stop.

He calls you again, a different number this time, you pick up and press your phone against your ear, and when you don’t hear anything from the other line, you finally speak.

“Who is this?” You ask, sweet voice making him forget this was ever wrong.

It takes him a while to speak back to you, but eventually he does, you smile, he can practically hear it.

“Is your team listening in?” You ask, a soft chuckle escapes your lips because deep down you know they’re not.

He takes a while again, and for an instant, you think he might not be able to hear you, but he could, Spencer could listen to your voice clearly on the other end of the line.

It was the very voice he had been hoping to hear ever since he pressed that button.

"No,” He replies, his tone calm and measured. “No, they’re not listening in.”

He’s alone in his apartment, his teammates having long since gone home for the night. It was only him sitting at his desk, phone in hand, a small smile on his face. His heart beats fast and loud, as if it had been craving for even a bit of you, he swallows before speaking again.

"I’m alone.” It’s everything you need to hear, makes you smile again as you shift in your chair, he blushes when he notices what exactly you’re doing — you and those damn computers, probably could see every movement he was making now.

“I’m happy you called.” You point out, Spencer could notice that even if you didn’t tell him. “What are you doing? Working?”

He hums, his tone neutral before he answers. “I was working.” He pauses, sighing. “Before I called you.”

He hears the keyboard in the background, avoids rolling his eyes because he knows you’re watching.

“I can see you.” You whisper, as if it isn’t obvious. “I wish you could see me too.” You giggle, he bites back another smile.

“I’m sure you look beautiful,” his voice is low and soothing, as if a gentle mutter against your ear. “But it’s probably best that I can’t.” He joked, trying to keep the conversation light, he knows just what kind directions you take your conversations to. “Who knows what sorta things you get up to in your room.”

You fake a gasp, he finally allows himself to crack, staring at the camera on his laptop, that’s probably from where you’re watching him anyways. “Dr. Reid, you’re dirty.”

He likes the way the title slides off your lips, it feels rewarding. “Me? Dirty?” He scoffs. “Says the woman who installed cameras in my home.”

You laugh this time, he relishes in the sound of it, he likes making you happy, that’s why he plays along with your game.

“Well played.” You say, he can hear the sarcasm in those words. “But what was I supposed to do? Ask you out again so you could call your agents on me?” You’re teasing him, and unfortunately, it was working quite well on your favour. “I wore such a pretty dress that night…” you sigh. “Thought you’d end up ripping it off me.”

Of course you had to mention that, now his mind is filled with versions of you underneath him, making your eyes roll back and finally shutting that mouth of yours. Damn it.

“I’m glad you didn’t.” He keeps his eyes on the camera, adjusting on his seat this time. “That dress looked absolutely stunning on you.” He praises with a low hum. “I’d hate to ruin it.”

You chuckle, blushing like a school girl at his words. “Aren’t you sweet tonight, what’s all that for?” You question, leaning back, mimicking his movements.

"Maybe I just like the way you respond,” he teased back, a small smile on his face. "The way you blush and bite your lip… it’s very enticing, you know."

He caught you red handed, you were biting down on her lip, you were blushing, all because of him and his stupid compliments.

“How do you know I’m biting my lip?” You move to bite down on your thumb, his breathing rings like a soft lullaby against your ear.

“I’m a profiler, am I not?” He mocks you, laughing.

“That’s my job.”

[herefortheships]

Do you think Dolores still likes him? he might like her a little he wears her ring so it might mean something

Personally I don't think either ever even truly liked the other to begin with. There was passion, yes, but it was all wrapped in lies.

Delores took a man she found scavenging around, who was likely struggling in life and in a very vulnerable position, and decided to prey on him to perform her ritual. As for Betelgeuse, he was approached by this gorgeous, dark, beautiful lady one night, and she mesmerized him. Of course he might have believed himself in instant love with this woman who so easily offered herself to him. I headcanon that Betelgeuse had always craved falling in love and being in love with someone (he's definitely a romantic underneath it all), and that kind of love was something he never had the opportunity in his life to have, until he met Delores.

There is a possibility that, while she was using him, he did become infatuated with the idea of her. And notice I said the "idea of her", because Betel might have only "fallen" for whoever Delores pretended to be to lure him into her trap. I honestly don't think it took too much for Delores to convince him to marry her; as I said, this man craved love, and here she was, a gorgeous woman so easily offering it to him.

At the end of the day, though, Betelgeuse was just being used and deceived, and Delores had only a little fly caught on her web (poor Betelgeuse, tbh).

That said, he never truly loved her, and I think it's clear with what the story has shown us about him and how he acts around someone he truly is in love with. Betelgeuse would have been devastated and betrayed beyond words by Delores poisoning him, if he was in love. To the point he'd have collapsed there on the spot just staring at her, no doubt. He wouldn't have reacted by hacking her into bits. The reason I can conclude that is by comparing his behavior toward Delores with his behavior towards Lydia in a moment of betrayal.

Consider how he didn't become vengeful of Lydia when she didn't marry him the first time, and completely allowed her to banish him this second time around (please he tried nothing to stop her saying his name), and didn't force her into anything; he looked betrayed and sad, more than just angry, and he didn't do anything to harm her as she sent him away (even cracked a joke before going poof back to the Netherworld). I make this comparison because this movie made it very clear that Betelgeuse truly is in love with Lydia.

As for Delores, in the afterlife she does appear to be desiring Betelgeuse romantically (the way she behaves and calls him her beloved, was jealous of Lydia, etc), whilst still being after him for revenge. He did take her immortality away from her that night when he didn't allow her to finish the ritual. I always say she "fucked around and found out", with Betelgeuse. He hacked her into pieces and she never got to complete her ritual, so her soul is stuck in that mode; her drive as a spirit is to get Betelgeuse and finish what she started. Is there love underneath that? I don't think so. Maybe some dark, possessive desire of the "only I can have your soul" kind. But not love.

Whatever romantic inclination she has towards him might come from a ghostly attachment she might have around the events of her death; she died on her wedding night, so she's stuck as Betelgeuse's dead bride as a spirit. But does she have true romantic love toward him? I don't think so.

Betelgeuse clearly wants nothing to do with Delores. As for the ring on his finger, I have a theory about that which I wrote about in this post. To summarize it, he might just be bound to the ring as his ghostly attachment, due to having died a cruel death on his wedding night; it might be the symbol of his curse. Read the post if you want to know the long version.

I hope this answers the question and I'm sorry I took so long to answer! There are many questions still in my inbox so it's taking me a little time but I will get through all of them, promise. 💙

[psink]

Saiki Kuusuke and Teruhashi Kokomi guidebook full pages translation:

(left side) Disaster element: Unsuccessful attempted triggering of the World War.

Kusuo's older brother and a genius inventor with an IQ of 218. The eldest son of the Saiki family, currently studying abroad at Cambridge University. A genius who spoke his first words at 1 month old, but due to an inferiority complex because of his psychic younger brother, he ran away to London. ↑He takes pride in his top-class academic abilities even within the prestigious Cambridge University. ? To avoid encountering･･････ Don't get caught on the surveillance cameras!! Kuusuke can hack into all of London's surveillance cameras in an instant. Isn't Japanese security a piece of cake in his hands? Let's find a place without cameras.

! If you happen to encounter･･････ The topic of his younger brother is not allowed!! Because of his "younger brother complex", talking about his younger brother is strictly forbidden. If you do, he'll psychologically corner you. (right side) Ecological information: 【Name】 Saiki Kuusuke 【Height】 179cm 【Weight】 64kg 【Birthday】 June 16th 【Blood type】 B

Disaster Status: Intelligence S, Physical Strength B, Obsession S Genius ◎ Cambridge University Kuu-kun Extreme masochist 0 wins 4254 loses Dr. KU-SUKE

Overall disaster difficulty: 80% (C) You're safe in Japan, but be careful when travelling to London!

[Kusuo:] It seems that is such thing as a younger brother who surpass his older brother.

Main appearance spots Having left Japan at the age of 14, his current base of operation is mainly London. Almost never returns home.

(top left) Relaxing tea time Elegantly enjoying tea time while looking at his personal computer in a luxurious hotel room. He has amassed a massive wealth thanks to his patents! (bottom left) This is the best place to concentrate He goes to the library at the same time every week to read. Everyone knows that reading in this place is part of his daily routine. (top right) There is no such thing as a younger brother who surpasses his older brother･･････ Due to studying abroad at Cambridge University, he is currently living alone away from his family. (bottom right) Reunion through the monitor You shouldn't feel safe just because he's not in Japan. Various machines can immediately turn into his cameras. There's no room for carelessness or weakness.......

Asou-sensei's idea memo: I indented from the beginning that Kusuo would have an older brother, and I also decided that he'd be a scientist who competes against Kusuo. However, it was difficult to find the right timing to introduce him. The only foreshadowing is on 2nd panel of page 12 of volume 2, where 3 fingers are held up.

(left side) Disaster element: The world revolves around Teruhashi-san.

The most beautiful girl in the world, loved by God. She is the idol of PK Academy and prides herself in such beauty that even God is captivated by her. Teruhashi-san is aware of this, which, frankly speaking, makes her invincible. →Even naturally formed clouds take shape of Teruhashi-san's wings.

? To avoid encountering･･････ Avoid the crowds!! A crowd of onlookers gather around Teruhashi-san. So if there's a crowd, it's a warning sign.

! If you happen to encounter･･････ Offu-ing! In case of encountering her, that'll bring you happiness, so there's no such thing as an avoidance technique. If you want to leave quickly, just say "offu".

(right side) Ecological information: 【Name】 Teruhashi Kokomi 【Height】 171cm 【Weight】 ?kg 【Birthday】 August 6th 【Blood type】 A

Disaster Status: Intelligence A, Physical Strength C, Appearance S 7 billion people's love A kind and perfect girl Children × Captive [of love] Offu Life on easy mode

Overall disaster difficulty: 75% (B) Since Teruhashi-san has an impressive number of followers, she is quite dangerous.

[Kusuo:] Even God obeys her.

Main appearance spots The reason Teruhashi-san goes out, is to show people her appearance!! Truly noble!! (top left) Bringing happiness to Hidariwakibara-chō by letting people see her On days off, even though she doesn't have much to buy, she strolls around the main street of Hidariwakibara-chō as an eye-candy for the purpose of enjoyment of people around her.

(bottom left) I only accompanied my brother Her brother is a super famous celebrity. They often go to the cinema together to watch the movies he's in.

(top right) If I wear it, it'll fly off the shelves, you know? Being a perfect beautiful girl, anything she wears will suit her. Therefore it's fine for her to shop in an ordinary clothing store in the town.

(bottom right) After-school girl talk. Lately, her way of enjoying herself has been talking about love with Yumehara and other classmates at cafes and dessert shops. Asou-sensei's idea memo: When you think about what person would be able to oppose Saiki, it has to be a "perfect beautiful girl", right? And if she's a perfect, beautiful girl, I think she'd definitely be aware of her charm, right? The reason she doesn't have any ribbons, a unique hairstyle or other prominent feature is because, being perfect, she doesn't need them.

[shirefantasies]

hii i’ve read all your hobbit fics and i love them. i was wondering if you can do one with the company who underestimated the readers fighting abilities and when a pack of orcs attack they seem to be doing better than everyone else. like they got this bloodthirsty look on their face and it terrifies them while also in their heads like “oh yeah that’s the one i wanna marry” feel free to ignore this keep up the good work🫶🫶

I love this! I can so see like, all the dwarves having this exact moment 😆 Warnings: some blood/violence mentions

Fiery, Fierce, Fabulous!

Balin

He had been working with you a bit, lightly sparring with his sword and an old spare, but it was all just playful. Swords, it seemed, weren’t for you, but all that changed in Balin’s mind was furthering his desire to protect you. The orcs were upon you seemingly in an instant, not giving your company a single break. Exasperated, Balin made to run forward, stopping in his tracks when he saw you. In a heartbeat you had pulled out a bow and arrow, launching quite the volley into the growing crowd of enemies and picking off a surprising number of the ghastly running figures. It was like you knew exactly where to shoot past the armor despite them being outfitted differently. Balin had always looked upon you with affection, a special care he’d not given many before, but as he watched you bloom into a capable warrior of your own right, he knew it was love.

Dwalin

You were usually off helping Bombur cook, so he supposed he’d written you off as a fighter. Not that knowing your way around a good meal was no merit. In fact, you’d been explaining how you made your cheese sauce so good-something you called a ‘roux’- when the howling started. Wargs, all mounted with riders coming in an ambush, a flurry of scimitars and axes raised. Jolting up from the rock you sat on, you unsheathed a sword from who knows where, seeming to briefly perceive the raise of Dwalin’s eyebrows before you ran off. One of the first into the fray along with Bifur, you swung, taking the eye out of one warg and catching the leg of the rider, who slipped enough for you to run him through. Barely pausing, you took another hack at the warg before moving onto another loose orc, unceremoniously lopping his head off. He always knew he wanted someone at home who could have dinner waiting, but up until that moment Dwalin assumed he’d marry someone he could protect. The grin that spread across his face, the pound of his heart, the irresistible focus across your face, though? They all told him you were his One.

Thorin

His company is small, but they are fighters. At least all the ones he can vouch for. Having never seen you in a fight was one reservation he had to your joining, though your presence is soothing above all else. The sense, the trust you have for him, your willingness to do what is right in the dwarves' eyes. Not to mention the way you constantly remind Thorin to focus on the good, resistant to it all as he may have once been. When the orcs come, he sees apprehension glint in your eyes before it quickly evolves to focus. You reach for some article hanging at your back, something Thorin had assumed to be a frying pan handle. Erroneously. Very. You've pulled out a spear, parrying attack after attack and even catching the brunt of a blow meant for Dori. Your weapon looks quite regal in your hand, beauty to be found even in a bloodbath. Perhaps especially so. You were no charge to them, you were one of them. Somebody the others looked up to, respected. Somebody Thorin himself could depend on. Never did he think the day would come, and yet in that fight the king-to-be knew he looked upon his One.

Oin

The company had taken you on as a healer, knowing your skills would be beyond valuable; thus, you worked and trained beneath Oin. Even handling scrapes, your touch is so gentle it warms his heart, filling it with pride…and maybe a little something else. That same heart drops when an orc grabs you by the arm, yanking you and lifting you up like little more than a doll. His hands tighten upon his staff. Unnecessarily, it seems, for your other arm swings and sets the orc cursing in its dark speech and dropping you. Promptly stabbing him with the large knife you still held, you take out both of his neighbors for good luck. Cheering in encouragement, Oin thinks to himself that it’s about time he had a talk with you.

Gloin

You’re quick with your words, he’ll give you that. Always with some joke or barb to shoot back at the others when they tease you. Gloin swears you could make up a story for anything, and sometimes he can’t help but imagine hearing your voice reciting some little tale under the stars, to him and him alone. Naturally, when Azog sends his ilk after you, Gloin’s first instinct is to stand in front of you, an arm outstretched in cover. Cover you promptly ignore, rushing forth, unstrapping a pair of axes from your back, and unleashing hell upon the great ugly things. What better story to tell of how he knew he found his One?

Bifur

Not everyone took the time to try to listen. Most people waved a dismissive hand at signs, flailed and pantomimed in some cruel mockery or otherwise concession. Not you. You pulled him into nearly every conversation, made little jokes just for him. Made the world feel like it was just the two of you sometimes. Was it ridiculous? Maybe. Then again, a little showing off couldn't hurt, just in case. Wait, since when did you have an axe? And since when were you so swift with it as to chop the arm off an orc like that? And since when did you start looking so good splattered with blood? Bifur must've been staring, for suddenly there you were giving a merry laugh, asking if he liked those moves, wholly his One. Oh, that was it- he was a goner for sure.

Bofur

From the moment the company had entered Bag End, you’d been right there up front singing and dancing along with the dwarves. Privately Bofur thought of you as the company’s songbird the way you performed and found a song for any moment. Protecting your pretty pipes is all he’s thinking about, in fact, when goblins swarm you down in their town. Hoisting his mattock, he’s ready to do what he must…. Only for you to take them out yourself, swinging your own blades with a rhythm all your own. You’re like a tornado the way you tear them up! Scary? Maybe a little. But beautiful? Definitely a lot. Despite the goblin-hole you’ve landed yourselves in, Bofur chuckles and smiles to himself. What can he say? He loves you.

Bombur

More than once does it occur to Bombur how badly he wants to make you smile, see you relaxed and comfortable every minute of the day. His heart positively thumps out of his chest at the way you lay your hand over his, thanking him for the meal he made or the extra blanket he gave you. Your safety is all he thinks about running headlong into battle, weapons ablaze. You won't be afraid if... thwack! Bombur's thoughts are utterly interrupted by an orc tumbling headlong, another soon joining them with a strike by your twin staffs. Twirling them about your head, you part the crowding battle with a look of impressive calm. The first words you speak in that battle are to ask him if he's alright, followed by a compliment to his own kill count. Clashing with orcs as he may have been, Bombur couldn't help smiling merrily as he got to watch you, further cementing your status as his One in his mind.

Dori

The two of you bonded over Bilbo’s china, each of you having favorite plates and cups amidst all the dishes you used, washed, admired. He thought of you as someone who enjoyed the delicate crafts in life, appreciated the little flowers and traces of gilding on the one that was Bilbo’s mother’s. Just like him! Pessimistic as he could be, he didn’t much fancy the sight of you in battle- after all, you had had no cause to be forced into such a situation, right? Wrong, it seemed! Upon the first ambush you were asking him for a weapon, rolling your eyes when he gaped and grabbing up his flail, shattering a shield immediately and smirking when you caught his eye again. Heart leaping, Dori wonders for the first time in his life if maybe he isn’t the only one meant to care for his brothers, suddenly seeing someone else more than belonging in his family.

Nori

You were such a sweet little thing, so shy and kind it took everything in Nori not to sweep you off your feet at every little gesture. Instead, he opted for teasing you, slinging his arm around your shoulders to watch you get flustered or taking things to get a rise out of you. Or at least a cute look of confusion. Now, he thinks, is my big chance when you’re all being chased, assailants quickly escaping archery range and getting ever closer to his blades. You rush forward at his side, though, offering a sunny smile that contrasts heavily with the massive hammer in your hand. Nori slits a throat, you wallop the dickens out of several more orcs. When it’s all said and done he can’t help but tell you what a great team you make, taking that opportunity to finally sweep you off your feet.

Ori

All your blades were ornamental, carven with flowers into their wood handles and swirls patterning the metal. One had beasts upon the cross-guard and pommel. Ori knew this because you’d shown him, pride glittering in your eyes at the beautiful things. You loved his art and collected your own, pressing flowers and gushing over Bilbo’s trinkets. It was what inspired him to make you little gifts in the first place, in fact. Panic shoots through Ori’s chest when orcs barrel your way. Something flies through the air and he gasps as he realizes it’s your little flower knife sailing straight into the throat of your enemy. You take up the beastly dagger next, slicing another throat and finishing off the one Ori startles with his slingshot. His heart leaps when you congratulate him, thanking him for helping save your life as he reminds you you did the same. He can’t help staring as you walk away, completely smitten.

Fili

Maybe he shouldn’t play favorites, especially among friends and family, but you are by far his favorite in the whole mess of travelers the dwarven prince has fallen in with. Fili is addicted to the sound of your giggles at all his jokes, the way your lips circle in surprise when he shows you all the weapons he boasts. Perhaps that’s why he assumes you haven’t any, but you know what they say about that. He should’ve known better with the way he keeps most of his concealed. A pair of daggers immediately swung about still come as a more than pleasant surprise, pride glowing in the smile Fili flashes you. You are beyond special, he sees it now: you’re the one for him.

Kili

You get so bashful every time he sends a wink your way, your smile an absolute balm for his soul no matter what the day brings. He loves the way you get his attention only to hand him a flower you plucked from the roadside with a little for you. Kili himself practically can only imagine the surprise he feels when he sees you cross your blades and decapitate two adversaries in a row like they’re nothing, a look he can only describe as fiery passion across your face. Practically feeling as though he’s in a dream, Kili knows through the haze it’s more than flirtation, he’s head over heels. This must be that ‘One’ feeling Gloin and Bombur always talk about.

Bilbo

Seems like you're always by his side. Offering him a hot drink, chatting on watch, sharing blankets. It's like a little piece of home followed him off on this absurd journey, and thank the stars. He's struggling to adjust to the rowdy bunch you two have fallen in with, but you? A gentler soul indeed. Bilbo's heart sinks at the sight of orcs at your heels, wishing never to have need of the blade he was given. You tell him none of them will get near him, causing him to peer up at you with wide, confused eyes before you whip out a crossbow and start shooting. Your marks go tumbling off their wargs, blood bursting from across their chests as the mob thins. Gaping, Bilbo swallows and shakily thanks you, his gaze darting to and from your eyes shyly. You're something new, something quite between home and an adventure, he dares say.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Déjà Vu

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Warnings: angst, stalking, being attacked, break in

Summary: Someone is stalking you. That much is evident, but you never thought they'd take it as far as to break into your home and make you understand that you're not the one in control here.

There's Beauty in Tragedy Masterlist

Square Filled: this is not. adrill for @badthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

He’s parked outside Y/N’s expensive house but he’s managed to hack into her security cameras as easily as he does laundry. She’s inside her bedroom getting undressed for the night. Damn, she looks better than she did when he last saw her years ago. She pulls on the country-fair t-shirt her ex-girlfriend got for her in college. He remembers that night. Everyone in school went to that thing.

She climbs into bed and keeps her bedside lamp on for a source of light. There are so many things in her room that it makes him sick. She is so materialistic. She makes all this money and doesn’t do anything meaningful with it. She fills her house with trinkets and expensive things to make it look like she’s this glamorous person. She’s not. She’s putting up a facade.

He could go inside her house right now and take it all from her in an instant… if he wanted to, that is.

After a long and hard day at work, you’re ready to wind down and sleep easy knowing you’re about to see your girlfriend in two days. You grab your phone and FaceTime her so you can see her gorgeous face before bed. She answers from inside her hotel room with room service on the table. She’s on a case a few hours from where you are by plane.

“Hi, gorgeous,” you grin.

“Hey, I thought you’d be sleeping by now.”

“I couldn't go to bed without saying goodnight to you. I miss you.”

“I come home in two days,” she chuckles.

“I can’t wait that long. Maybe I’ll head to the airport and fly to you. Maybe I’ll surprise you in bed.”

“You’d cost me my job because we wouldn't leave it.”

“Tempting,” you smirk. “How was your day?”

“Long. It took us longer to build a profile of the unsub which resulting him killing two more women. We finally got it ready and gave it out. I’m hoping we have him tomorrow or else I’ll have to stay out here a little bit longer.”

“I just want you to stay safe even if that means you being away from me for a bit longer. You’ll get the bad guy. You always do.”

“My team does. I’m just the liaison.”

“That team would be nothing without you. You’re a vital part. Don’t forget that,” you wink.

“How was your day?”

“Productive. I had a meeting with a new client, someone I’ve never worked with before. No, I can’t tell you who it is but just know she’s A-list.”

“Wow, good for you.” JJ sees the slightly upset look on your face. “What’s wrong? Did something else happen today?”

“I got a call from Mark again. I didn’t think he’d be so bold to call. He called my assistant to set up a meeting with me, but I overheard her say his name. I told her never to make an appointment with him and to decline all of his calls.”

“Are you sure you don’t want my team’s help?”

“I can handle it but I love how much you worry.”

“I will always worry when it comes to you.”

“Alright, angel, I have to go. I’m tired, but I will talk to you tomorrow morning and I’ll see you in two days.”

“Okay, goodnight,” she smiles.

Both of you kiss the screens before hanging up. You sleep good knowing she is safe where she is and you’re safe where you are.

The next morning, instead of going to the office and working on your designs, you have to stop by one of your stores to check on how they’re doing. It’s so weird. The second you stepped foot out of the door, you felt like someone was watching you. Even now while you’re walking down the street to your store, you feel eyes on you.

You stop outside of it and look at the busy street behind you. People hustle to get to their jobs, cars drive by with passengers, and none of them are looking at you or watching you. Why are you feeling this way? You push down this feeling and walk into your store with a smile.

“Y/N! Welcome back!” the store manager greets.

“Betty, it’s so nice to see you again. How are things here?”

“Just fine. We’re doing pretty well this week, though, product is running a bit low.”

“Yeah, I have more in stock which I’ll bring tomorrow.”

“Oh, I almost forgot, someone came in asking for you.”

“Who?”

“She didn’t leave a name but she did leave this.”

Betty takes you to the back where a bouquet of flowers is. It’s your favorite kinds of flowers all rolled into one bouquet. Attached to the vase is a card, and you rip it off to read what it says.

Nice to see you still have that country-fair t-shirt I got you. You looked so good in it last night.

Fear creeps up your neck because how the hell did this person know what you were wearing last night? You did wear an old t-shirt your ex-girlfriend got you, but you’re confused because you haven’t talked to her since you graduated college.

“Are you sure she didn’t leave a name?”

“Yeah. She came in twenty minutes ago. She might still be outside.”

You immediately leave the store in search of the woman you once knew. People pass you by on their way to malls or their jobs but none of them are Courtney. The feeling of someone watching you has increased so you head back inside to escape it.

“Thank you for accepting the flowers. I’ll take them.” Betty hands them over and talks about the revenue for this week which has been in the high positives for quite some time now. “Keep up the good work. We’ll talk about raises next week because I’m impressed with your work. I’ll bring more product tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Y/N. We’ll see you tomorrow,” she grins.

You leave the store with the flowers only to toss them into the dumpster next to the store. You keep the card for evidence. You’re not sure what this is but you don’t think it’s smart to throw it away. On your way back to your office, you call the police to make a report that someone was watching you last night and left you flowers with a creepy note attached to them. You’re not sure what they can do with that information but at least a report was documented.

The second you get off the phone with the police, you call JJ.

“Hey, can I call you back in a bit?”

“I think I’m being stalked,” you blurt.

“Excuse me,” she says to someone in the room with her. She steps out to give herself some privacy. “Did you say you’re being stalked?”

“I’m sorry for bothering you. I know you’re busy--”

“No, what’s going on?”

“I went to one of my stores to check on things when the manager said someone dropped off flowers for me. I got a note with the flowers that suggested someone was watching me last night. Whoever this is mentioned a shirt I was wearing last night but I was alone.”

“Did you find out who left you the flowers?”

“No, but it’s implied my ex-girlfriend did it because I was wearing the shirt she gave me in college. I can’t think of why she’d leave me notes or how she knew what I was wearing last night. I haven’t seen or talked to her since I graduated college. I called the police to make a report about it but I wanted you to know.”

“We caught the unsub today. We’re heading home as soon as possible. We should get there really late at night or tomorrow morning depending on when the rest of the team wants to leave. I’ll help you out when I do get home.”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t think it’s anything serious that the FBI needs to get involved with.”

“I’m helping you, Y/N. I have the means to. Just let me look into it, at least.”

“Fine. I gotta go. Sorry I took you away from your job. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Maybe this was a prank. Maybe someone wants to scare you. How did this person know what you were wearing? Your security lights didn’t go off last night so there was no one close enough to your house to see what you were wearing. Did they hack into your cameras? If they did, they’d have to be really smart because you have a very sophisticated system.

Your paranoia doesn’t go away even when you’re getting ready for bed. You still feel like someone is watching you but you can’t see anyone inside or outside your house. Maybe this is just a bad feeling and it’ll go away tomorrow.

You’re maybe three hours into the night when you’re woken up by your house alarm going off. You shoot up in bed and look around the dark room, afraid that if you turn on the light, whoever caused the alarm to go off will know you’re awake. 

Plus, you know your own house better than anyone. You can navigate through the darkness.

You grab your phone and keep the backlight on dim as you go to your camera app. Every single camera you own has been disabled so you’re looking at a completely black screen. You have no eyes anywhere. You have no idea who is inside your house. The alarm shuts off presumably by the person who set it off.

The fear you felt from your first robbery is slowly coming back but you have to keep a level head. Panic is what kills people. You get out of bed just as you hear someone rummaging through your house. It sounds like they are getting closer so you dash to your closet and hide behind some clothes.

Your alarm is connected to the police so they should have gotten an alarm but you still dial 911 just to be safe.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

JJ is thankful that the team wanted to come home earlier so she can be with you sooner. She is eager to get to your place and get to the bottom of who is making your life hell. Her phone rings as soon as she gets into her car, and she answers it when she sees it’s her friend from the VAPD.

“Josie, what’s going on?”

“You told me to call you if anything happened at Y/N’s house.”

JJ doesn’t have to hear the whole story to convince her team to head immediately to your house. The entire street is blocked off by police and fire and ambulance are already at your house. She doesn’t want to seem desperate by running into your house like a maniac but she does speed walk to get there. You’re sitting on the couch with a cut on your head that a paramedic is looking at.

“Y/N!”

“JJ,” you whimper.

She joins your side on the couch while the rest of the team questions the police and tries to figure out what happened here.

“Oh, my God. Are you okay? What happened?”

“I don’t know. I woke up to someone breaking into my house. I was sleeping and I checked the cameras but they were all disabled. I ran into my closet and called 911 but he heard me and came after me. Either I hit my head or he slammed me into something but he definitely tried attacking me. Police were here in under five minutes. He heard the sirens and bolted. I didn’t see his face.”

You’re almost in tears from how scared you are and your whole body is shaking from fear. JJ pulls you closer and smooths down your hair and rubs your back.

“Come here. I’m right here now. You’re okay.”

“I don’t know how he disabled my cameras or if he stole anything but I’m terrified.”

“I know. You’re staying with me tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper.

You hate feeling like a little child because that’s what fear feels like to you. It makes you cower in and reverts your mind back to what it was like as a child. You hate feeling physically vulnerable.

“I’ll be right back. I’ll be right over there.” JJ leaves the paramedic to finish his job while she joins the officers whom Hotch and Derek are talking to. “Do you have any suspects?”

“None that fits the description she gave us. However, she did file a report about flowers and a note being left at one of her stores earlier today. I guess someone was watching her sleep the night before. An ex-girlfriend she seems to think. I’ll have someone get in contact with her and have her come down for questioning.”

“Okay. Is she okay to leave here?”

“Yeah, as soon as the paramedics are done checking her out. This place will remain a crime scene for a few days. There’s blood inside her closet presumably from her but we want to make sure.”

“Of course,” JJ nods. When the paramedic says you don’t need to go to the hospital, JJ helps you pack a bag. “You’re going to be okay. My team is on this and there is no one better to help.”

“I know. I just hate that it had to come to this.”

“Come on, let’s go home and rest.”

Fuck. She just had to fight back. He almost had her but the bitch put up a good fight on him. The second he heard those sirens it was either her or him, so he ran. He’ll get her another time but he has to wait until the smoke clears with the police.

He sits in his car a few blocks over with his eyes closed and mouth parted. As terrible as it was that he didn't get her, he got a rush of adrenaline just from being there. Damn, he missed that. He hasn’t felt this way in a really, really long time.

Now that he got a taste of it again, he’s just getting started.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[glittering-snowfall]

At the time even the film's creators seemed nervous about what they had created. Like, when Diablo Cody in defending the film's same-sex kiss talked about her intense female friendships, how she "wanted to sleep at my friend's house every night, I wanted to wear her clothes, we would talk on the phone until our ears ached." Yeah Diablo, I had that with some of my guy friends as a teenager too, it was called being gay. The article that quote is from still finds the time to chide Cody for not doing good feminist representation, though, and I guess that makes me somewhat sympathetic to Cody here. Did she know that culture was in fact going to be too dumb to get the way Jennifer is both a predator and victim, the way her love for Needy is at turns beautiful and toxic, the way expressions of queer desire get warped into complicated, problematic forms by a diseased culture?

The film is full of uncomfortable joke/horror ambiguities, which were at least grasped by some critics (the film did have a number of favorable reviews, though they couldn't compete with the horrible marketing). As far as I can tell, the developing blogosphere, on the other hand, understood none of this from the moment they got their grubby cheeto dust covered fingers on the script before the film's release. Diablo Cody had amassed a considerable loud hatedom at that point, of both the aforementioned cheeto boys and their female counterparts,  going apoplectic over the "fantasy" that "Diablo Cody is a magical snowflake who can spray her unique pixie dust on an otherwise conventional script and give it indie cred". Perhaps the film's obsession with female relationships characterized by violence, jealousy, and crab bucket behavior cut too close to home for such critics?

Or maybe they just genuinely hate Diablo Cody's "twee dialogue". You hear about this? Yeah, Diablo Cody writes twee dialogue. This mantra seems completely unassailable now, basically accepted by even her defenders. What's so god damn twee about it though? To be sure, I remember mentally grouping Juno in with Napoleon Dynamite and Little Miss Sunshine. Jennifer's Body reveals just how much "twee" is a function of the film in its totality, though. I mean, I feel like this should be obvious but the exaggerated quippy dialogue comes across a little differently in the context of a film featuring sexual assault, people being burned to death, ritual murder, demonic possession, and teenagers being sadistically eaten alive.

In that context her dialogue comes across more like a nightmare funhouse mirror version of Joss Whedon's now eye-rollingly ubiquitous quips. Whedon and his bazillion interchangeable hack studio vat clones never aspired for much actual wit beyond the "umm well THAT just happened". Cody's dialogue on the other hand is baroque, in love with weird wordplay and uncouth associations. Needy refers to Jennifer affectionately as "Vagisil". Jennifer, in a line that caught me totally off guard midway through taking a big sip of water, jeers that Needy needs to "Move-on dot org". Yeah, no man, you're right. This isn't how "real" teenagers talk. Also, Jennifer's not "really" possessed by a demon, it's a thing we call "Movie Magic".

Though, actually, it's not totally unreal. This baroque, warping dialogue feels now like how teens trash talk under ideal conditions: on the internet. This movie's dialogue is posting. Like Homestuck, the point is not to capture a literal representation but instead a vibe of the kind of unrestrained, often vulgar and offensive dialogue of teens shit talking each other over America Online Instant Messanger or replies to their friends' Xanga posts. It makes perfect sense that both Jennifer and the various Homestuck teens would call each other retards, for example. There's a real sense in the film of characters pushing boundaries, testing the limits of their ability to perform adulthood. It's not just an act in the sense that it's a movie you plodding dullards, but in the sense that these characters are performing their idea of maturity.

There's nothing of that performance when Jennifer, in the back of a van going who knows where, sobering up and getting a grip on her real situation, asks the members of the band Low Shoulder, "Are you guys rapists?"

The climactic flashback, late in the film, when we witness the band's brutal murder of Jennifer, still has plenty of quips, of course. It's just that now Jennifer's ability to perform any kind of mature confidence has been brutally ripped away by a bunch of third rate emo douchebags. All the quipping, over top of her desperate pleading for her life, issues from the douchebags, who treat the whole scene as a joke. The affect of this scene feels complex to me. It's still Diablo Cody's script so there's some pretty good one liners. Megan Fox, though, is playing the scene for pure horror, so the humor adds to the horror for me. For these guys, rape and murder is just, like, kind of a fun night out. They can sing pop songs while ramming a bowie knife ("Bowie! Nice!") into a teenage girl's body because their biggest concern is whether or not they can get their shit band on Letterman. 

I think it's notable that for a solid number of people--particularly though by no means exclusively women--this scene is not damaged in its horror by this dissonance. At least not now. And why should it be? Horror has never just been about what's "scary" or worse about startling people with jump scares. Horror has always partaken of a complex mix of affects: fear and visceral startlement, yes, but also grief, shock, disgust, rage, contempt... attraction... humor. The best horror might fuck with the viewer's head, prompting arousal or humor simultaneous with disgust or fear. Why play these things off each other? Maybe to destabilize us. If we feel a moment during Jennifer's brutal murder where we're just a little bit charmed by these self admittedly cute boys, maybe that prompts a question like: what other monsters might be hiding behind charming façades?

The post-9/11 years and incipient Obama cultural revolution were unfortunately for Jennifer's Body a time for dumb affects. We pretended Rudy Giuliani hadn't spent several years turning NYC into a characterless, facile police state before bungling the 9/11 disaster response. Clear Channel, now the insipidly named "iHeartRadio," banned numerous songs for fear of causing even a shred of offense. The FCC got more censorious, waving its own dick around to far more culturally degenerate effect than any superbowl nip slips. Even researching this period is tedious: the articles I access are full of euphemistic phrases ("Mr. Bush was caught on videotape last July using a common vulgarity that the commission finds objectionable") so tortured they could have been dreamed up by the Bush admin's army of Eichmanns. I did discover that the maximum penalty for saying "fuck" went under Bush from a draconian $32,500 to a wild-eyed spittle-mouthed $325,000. People who objected to the dogshit state of culture and politics were drummed out of society, as The Dixie Chicks were. Or, more commonly, folks sorta slipped out of the public eye after getting played off at awards ceremonies, quietly shelved.

The primary objection to all this unfortunately did not come from anything really resembling a left but libertarians, constitutional bill of rights fetishists, and South Park. Democrats, never willing to lose an opportunity to supplicate themselves in spineless nematoad subservience to reactionary forces, attacked the Bush FCC for not fining stations MORE for Janet Jackson's sexual harassment by Justin Timberlake. Cool!

I wanted to talk about how this extended into the Obama years but here's the weird and ominous thing: a lot of the statistics and research material on the FCC's censorship actions just sorta stop in 2006. A lot of the relevant links from the FCC's own website are dead now. I doubt that means things improved under Obama. I mean, why should the FCC have stopped fining people for saying "dickhole"? It's not like any of the natsec state's border wars ceased, or the detaining of people without trial in the torture pits of Guantanamo, or the deportation of migrants, or the wiretapping of civilians. The prosecution of whistleblowers actually increased drastically under Obama, as did the lobbing of drones at wedding parties.

We bore this because Obama offered an alternative to divisiveness and the stale politics of the Bush era. We didn't have to tear down and dismantle what the Neoconservatives and Bible-brandishing Evangelical cultists had built through rancor and strife, we simply had to present a different way. A way that would unite the country. A way of hope. THROUGH THE TREEEES I WILL FIIIIIND YOU I WILL HEEEEAL THE RUINS LEFT INSIIIIIDE YOU

Now Needy's increasingly frantic sense that something is very wrong and all the memorial rallies and posters in the world can't fix it resonate pretty strongly with me. And, of course, after watching Low Shoulder brutally murder a teenage girl the whole grief and recovery (with a hit song!) thing feels like a cathartic confirmation of what I felt a lot during this period: that all sorts of cynical fucks were exploiting tragedy to their own ends. It never seemed to be quite the right time to bring up how cloying and often disturbingly fascistic a lot of the Strong In The Face Of Tragedy pop culture was. It was either offensive to the victims of terrorism, or offensive to Our Troops, or, extremely conveniently, before the critique even had a chance to be levied it was suddenly old hat: the Village Voice sneeringly dismisses this film's "routine “risky” digs at 9/11 kitsch". It was hard to tell Republicans to go lick a d*ckh*le when President Obama was wearing flag lapels and having grotesquely performative "beer summits" to bring together a completely innocent black college professor with the racist pig that arrested him. You wanna talk kitsch? Obama was so fucking kitsch, homeskillet. Kitsch and twee to a degree no Diablo Cody dialogue could ever sink.

Here's something that's not kitsch or twee: Needy finding the sacrificial knife that stole her friend/love interest, and using it and inherited succubus powers to murder the shit out of every member of Low Shoulder. That's cathartic as hell. I said earlier that no one in this film really deserves what happens to them. Low Shoulder are the exception, and it's so satisfying to see that knife buried to the hilt in the lead singer's shitty torso.

from We Were Too Stupid for Jennifer's Body

[radioactive-earthshine]

White Lightning would make 100% the best most obnoxious villain for today because even in the 90s she used the internet to recruit minions to help her perform her heists.

In 2024 she would be one of the most beautiful girls you have ever seen, she has an active account on EVERY single social media site, she's been banned multiple times, she immediately gets back on with sub accounts, she's been hacked 4 times, she's got beef with someone who is 13 inches shorter than her, she's addicted to her phone, she's an anime character, White Lightning thinks they are each other's nemesis, Bart forgets about her the instant she's out of his hair, she's critiqued a lot but she's ACAB and livestreamed car jacking a patrol car.

[sagecodex]

When I'm putting together a project and I need to fill it with content that doesn't exist yet, I usually turn to the tried and true Lorem Ipsum generator. But sometimes, I want to have a little fun with my projects.

So here's a list of 60+ text generators (in alphabetical order) to zhuzh up your projects. Just don't be like me and forget to replace them with something appropriate when you share them with the world (a mistake I will likely continue to make).

Note: the following blocks of text are all pre-generated. Some of them may be offensive, though I am by no means endorsing any of them! They're just examples of of what these tools generate and I’m too lazy to edit.

Lorem Ipsum

Generates the standard lorem ipsum text.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur.

90s Ipsum

Generates a string of 90s text and -ism’s.

Charlotte hornets flip flops braveheart as I lay me down to sleep umbro shorts aviators, this is your brain on drugs speed tlc schindler’s list hot pink chronic. Extreme sports dennis rodman toy story choker necklace. Body piercings armageddon personalized mixtapes toyota supra, spiked hair I've fallen and I can't get up bowl cut dallas cowboys catsuit. Airwalk khaki roseanne leopard print instant messaging royal stewart tartan.

Bacon Ipsum

Generates a block of bacon and meat text.

Bacon ipsum dolor amet biltong rump bresaola kielbasa, pancetta shank shoulder turkey kevin meatloaf cow ground round. Jerky corned beef sausage, filet mignon chislic strip steak capicola porchetta shoulder. Biltong turkey brisket landjaeger, cupim pancetta ham hock pastrami short loin.

Baseball Ipsum

Generates baseball-themed text.

Runs leather fielder's choice center fielder slide perfect game glove leather grounder. Batter's box knuckleball club wild pitch butcher boy cellar win 4-6-3. Batting average petey relief pitcher wrigley hack, scorecard right fielder away. Cardinals bush league no decision home curve earned run flyout.

Bavaria Ipsum

GeneratesBavarian-themed text in Dutch.

Bavaria ipsum dolor sit amet Foidweg Biakriagal, guad o’ha Auffisteign? Ned Servas ognudelt Radi Charivari Griasnoggalsubbm kimmt auf gehds beim Schichtl Zidern. Deandlgwand oamoi und glei wirds no fui lustiga, de Sonn Engelgwand Maßkruag.

Beer Lorem Ipsum

Generates beer text that could almost be a real blog post.

The Mango Beer panics, and another cantankerous Coors goes to sleep; however, an Ellis Island IPA brainwashes a foreign wanker. Furthermore, a burly customer laughs out loud, and a Kashmir IPA of a Home brew avoids contact with an obsequious stein. A surly Pilsner often competes with a chain saw.

Birolipsum

Generates quotes from the President of Brazil, Jair Bolsonaro (or Biroliro for those intimate). In Portuguese.

Marcos Valério alega que o corrupto presidiário Lula é um dos mandantes do assassinato de Celso Daniel! Surpreso? Não! Pela memória do coronel Brilhante Ustra, o pavor de Dilma Rousseff. Eu estou lutando contra um sistema, contra o establishment. Paulo fala: “venda suas capas e compre espadas".

Bluth Ipsum

Generates quotes from the TV show Arrested Development.

I'll be in the hospital bar. You know there isn't a hospital bar, Mother. Well, this is why people hate hospitals. They want to break his legs. It's a good thing he's already got that little scooter. A flower in my garden, a mystery in my panties.

Bob Ross Lipsum

Generates quotes from Bob Ross.

You can create beautiful things - but you have to see them in your mind first. If you don't think every day is a good day - try missing a few. You'll see. All you need to paint is a few tools, a little instruction, and a vision in your mind. And I will hypnotize that just a little bit. We spend so much of our life looking - but never seeing. The little tiny Tim easels will let you down.

Bro Ipsum

Generates “bro culture” text.

Bro ipsum dolor sit amet bunny slope free ride laps, liftie park beater frozen chicken heads Whistler skid lid huck ollie taco mitt. Nose bonk hardtail chain ring white room taco euro spin backside presta rigid giblets. Stunt free ride taco glove deck. White room death cookies park, tele giblets grab dope 360 corn table top spread eagle nose beater snake bite.

Busey Ipsum

Generates quotes from Gary Busey.

Go with the feeling of the nature. Take it easy. Know why you're here. And remember to balance your internal energy with the environment.Sometimes horses cough and fart at the same time, so stay out of the range of its butt muscle because a horses butt muscle is thick.

Cajun Ipsum

Generates cajun-inspired text.

Cayenne boiled crawfish bread pudding sauce piquante Boudreaux po-boy. Interstate envie Lafayette tasso lagniappe King Cake fishing iced tea. Po-boy bonjour smoked sausage trail ride beignet merci beaucoup cajun lagniappe hunting iced tea.

Cat Ipsum

Generates text as cat thoughts.

Stare at guinea pigs mmmmmmmmm eeeeeeee ooooooooo wwwwwwww run in circles, so loved it, hated it, loved it, hated it. Cough furball find box a little too small and curl up with fur hanging out. Kitty ipsum dolor sit amet, shed everywhere shed everywhere stretching attack your ankles chase the red dot, hairball run catnip eat the grass sniff.

Cheese Ipsum

Generates cheese and cheese-adjacent text.

Cow cheese triangles cheesy grin. Stinking bishop port-salut lancashire pecorino stinking bishop cheesy grin red leicester danish fontina. Stilton swiss bocconcini parmesan cottage cheese fondue parmesan hard cheese. Airedale everyone loves halloumi cheese triangles cut the cheese stilton stilton taleggio. Smelly cheese.

Cheesburger Ipsum

Generates actual cheeseburger copy. Limited in what it can give you.

The last time you had a cheeseburger was too long ago. Try not to drool when you think about the slightly charred, medium-rare meat nestled between soft brioche, cradled in crisp iceberg lettuce and flavour amplifying condiments. Why are you still reading this- go get a cheeseburger.

Chiquito Ipsum

I don’t speak Spanish, but it generates Spanish text. Also has a Latin option. Which I also don’t speak. Idk I'm very confused.

Lorem fistrum no puedor de la pradera tiene musho peligro diodenoo a wan. Ese hombree me cago en tus muelas qué dise usteer fistro. Mamaar no puedor al ataquerl ese hombree diodeno caballo blanco caballo negroorl. Ese que llega te va a hasé pupitaa la caidita te voy a borrar el cerito hasta luego Lucas se calle ustée.

Chuck Norris Facts

Generates Chuck Norris Facts. What did you expect XD

Chuck Norris doesn't churn butter. He roundhouse kicks the cows and the butter comes straight out If you spell Chuck Norris in Scrabble, you win. Forever, Chuck Norris is the king of fighters, Chuck Norris originally appeared in the "Street Fighter II" video game, but was removed by Beta Testers because every button caused him to do a roundhouse kick. When asked bout this "glitch," Norris replied, "That's no glitch.".

Coffee Ipsum

Generates coffee-inspired text

Cultivar, strong carajillo whipped half and half irish galão. Id variety that, at redeye, trifecta variety crema robust con panna. Coffee ristretto, et milk, robust flavour cinnamon spoon cappuccino. Dripper, half and half cortado white extra milk medium.

Corporate Ipsum

Generates corporate-style jargon. Sounds like every sales meeting I’ve ever been in.

Leverage agile frameworks to provide a robust synopsis for high level overviews. Iterative approaches to corporate strategy foster collaborative thinking to further the overall value proposition. Organically grow the holistic world view of disruptive innovation via workplace diversity and empowerment.

Cupcake Ipsum

Generates pastry and dessert-inspired text.

Marshmallow lollipop apple pie bonbon pastry icing jujubes toffee jelly beans. Liquorice marzipan toffee candy canes bear claw tart lollipop apple pie. Tootsie roll cake gummies gingerbread wafer sesame snaps cupcake fruitcake sweet roll.

Dalaipsum

Generates quotes from His Holiness the XIVth Dalai Lama.

I love friends, I want more friends. I love smiles. That is a fact. How to develop smiles? There are a variety of smiles. Some smiles are sarcastic. Some smiles are artificial-diplomatic smiles. These smiles do not produce satisfaction, but rather fear or suspicion. But a genuine smile gives us hope, freshness. If we want a genuine smile, then first we must produce the basis for a smile to come.

DeLorean Ipsum

Generates quotes from the movie Back to the Future.

Hey, Doc? Doc. Hello, anybody home? Einstein, come here, boy. What's going on? Wha- aw, god. Aw, Jesus. Whoa, rock and roll. Yo C'mon, Mom, make it fast, I'll miss my bus. Hey see you tonight, Pop. Woo, time to change that oil. Hello. Tab?

Dino Ipsum

Generates names of dinosaurs!

Astrophocaudia Chaoyangsaurus Priconodon Amygdalodon Dracoraptor Mahakala Zalmoxes Anthodon Alocodon Lingyuanosaurus Kotasaurus Leinkupal Magnamanus Styracosaurus Atlasaurus Janenschia Drusilasaura Acristavus Leinkupal Bagaceratops Cedrorestes Batyrosaurus Sinornithoides Coelophysis Neuquensaurus Pachyspondylus Eurolimnornis Platyceratops Marisaurus Quilmesaurus.

Doggo Ipsum

Cat Ipsum but for dogs.

Doggo ipsum lotsa pats very taste wow lotsa pats extremely cuuuuuute, pats adorable doggo. heck very good spot heckin. Heckin good boys and girls clouds corgo sub woofer borking doggo, heckin angery woofer boof length boy. He made many woofs pats h*ck heckin good boys and girls pats boofers, you are doing me the shock the neighborhood pupper long bois.

Durham Ipsum

I don’t know where Durham is, but it generates text inspired by the city...county? 

Triangle localista dino trail jazz diamondview nccu the connecter historic preservation smoffice lemurs, bimbe scrap exchange trinity park brightleaf dance upcycled. Chapel hill street locavore wunc plaid, beer old five points 15-501, angier drive hipster.

Farm Animal Lorem Ipsum

Generates farm-inspired text. I hate that oink oink is in this.

Mallet herbs basil nest, in welding equipment pens quail. Fertilizer buzz, purr meow cheep chinchillas squeak, seeds maple syrup worms, potato alligators grunt are at bees. Apples ducks straw, quail a ostriches donkey, hay hook cucumbers. Post pounder calf, hay or duck is, tool shed horse. Grapes at yams mushrooms organic berries gobble. Mouse soybeans sweet corn hogs llamas or oink oink wind.

Fillerama

Generates quotes from the TV show Futurama.

OK, this has gotta stop. I'm going to remind Fry of his humanity the way only a woman can. In your time, yes, but nowadays shut up! Besides, these are adult stemcells, harvested from perfectly healthy adults whom I killed for their stemcells. I saw you with those two "ladies of the evening" at Elzars. Explain that.

Gangsta Lorem Ipsum

Generates “gangsta” inspired text.

Lorem ipsum dolizzle sit amet, consectetuer gizzle bow wow wow. Nullam sapizzle velit, get down get down volutpizzle, suscipit ma nizzle, gravida vel, mammasay mammasa mamma oo sa. Pellentesque crackalackin tortizzle. Yo eros. Fo shizzle at dolizzle dapibizzle turpizzle tempizzle da bomb.

Heisenberg Ipsum

Generates quotes from the TV show Breaking Bad. It lets you select the character (I’m assuming they’re all from the same show I haven’t seen it).

He has enough money to last forever. He knows he needs to keep moving. You'll never find him. He's out of the picture. I saved his life, I owed him that, but now he and I are done. Which is exactly what you wanted, isn't it. You've always struck me as a very pragmatic man so if I may, I would like to review options with you. Of which, it seems to me you have two.

Hillbilly Ipsum

Generates hillbilly-inspired text and -ism’s.

Chickens in the sack died when I was young rye whiskey steel driving crew? Going to town soldier's joy. One arm round my whiskey keg poor boy sugar baby soldier's joy, fiddle, coming down the track, hot corn nine-pound hammer cluck old hen run. Stranger? Pickle my bones in alcohol.

Hipster Ipsum

Generates hipster-inspired text.

I'm baby plaid umami kale chips, pinterest selvage microdosing gochujang Brooklyn small batch vinyl 3 wolf moon. VHS pinterest wayfarers normcore direct trade pickled lumbersexual vegan yuccie palo santo kickstarter crucifix 3 wolf moon. Vexillologist adaptogen try-hard, chicharrones hexagon vape polaroid.

Horror Lorem Ipsum

Generates horror-inspired text.

Gore at chainsaw knife crazed choking helpless. In willow trees, killer dolls are rotten teeth bite, sheep children virus nibh, in zombies brains unknown ghost creepy. Drenched scream scared dark. Creep cold graves, shadow non fear a, psychotic ashes ghost. Eerie needles edginess, graveyard on death rotten, disturbing non grave. 

Jipsum

A random lorem ipsum generator so not all your text is the same. It’s in German though.

Impensa quaeque mediocris elitr iactare Confirmat metu comit Explicatis civibus deterruisset Manus. Cupiditatum exedunt suaviter inveniri voluptas pauca Inter illa confirmavit. Reprehensiones rebus imperdiet etiam temporis Ornateque delectatio platonem nostris occulta Hausta intercapedo magni. Dicitis timeam Vocet faciendum consul Simulent chrysippe. Fortunae nostros arare Inter futurove.

Journo Ipsum

Generates some of the most common catchphrases, buzzwords, and bon mots of the future-of-news crowd. (Wow I hate that description)

future API Zite the notion of the public #twittermakesyoustupid election-night hologram Rupert Murdoch crowdfunding CPC nut graf gamification gotta grok it before you rock it rubber cement, Foursquare nonprofit Dan Fleckner WikiLeaks abundance libel lawyer Tim Carmody media bias.

Katy Perry Ipsum

Generates Katy Perry lyrics.

The boys break their necks try'na to creep a little sneak peek. Think the city towed my car, chandeliers on the floor. I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter, dancing through the fire. They say, be afraid you're not like the others, futuristic lover. You think I'm funny when I tell the punchline wrong. We'd keep all our promises be us against the world. Yeah, she's footloose and so fancy free. So I sat quietly, agreed politely.

Khaled Ipsum

Generates Khaled quotes...lyrics? Unclear.

Lorem Khaled Ipsum is a major key to success. The weather is amazing, walk with me through the pathway of more success. Take this journey with me, Lion! Look at the sunset, life is amazing, life is beautiful, life is what you make it. It’s on you how you want to live your life. Everyone has a choice.

Lancashire Ipsum

Generates colloquialisms that originate from the county of Lancashire.

Lancashire ipsum dolor amet gradely axin camp neaw cowd frit. Bellasses yer'sen unawl greaund peawnd. Camp Darrun geet, howd feyther clowt eyter. Vawse way'er clum nought. Gronny no nouse heawr beawnt, Keawyed City purring es'tin inth arrers bin diddy our Peg shoon. 

Liquor Ipsum

A boozy text generator.

Singapore sling old etonian aberlour missouri mule vodka sunrise two fingers shirley temple black pappy van winkle glenburgie. Paddy the last word, gibson vat 69, bruichladdich flirtini lejon hanky-panky drambuie finlandia tequila sunrise edradour!

Melbourne Ipsum

Honestly I have no idea what this is but I’m assuming it’s Australian.

Naked for satan street art, spiegeltent north of the river brunswick and brunswick st MSAC kylie minogue, swanston melb collingwood ferals spring racing carnival empire of the sun, the melbourne cup the hawks victory vs heart four seasons in one day the borek woman, avalon is so not melb the espy bill clinton ate two bowls.

Mid-century Ipsum

Generates mid-century-inspired text.

Hostess trolley bakelite selectric creative carport candy-ass, jazz whiskey beatnik creative. Tiki upswept frutiger googie drive-in futuristic highway jet-age television, herman miller danish modern jet-age. Ratpack ranch home whiskey candy-ass upswept saul bass jet-age hostess trolley?

Morse Code Lorem Ipsum

Generates random Morse Code.

.-.. --- .-. . -- .. .--. … ..- -- -.. --- .-.. --- .-. … .. - .- -- . - --..-- -.-. --- -. … . -.-. - . - ..- . .-. .- -.. .. .--. .. … -.-. .. -. --. . .-.. .. - .-.-.- ..- - --- -.. .. --- .-.-.- -. .- -- … . -.. . … - .-.-.- -. .- -- .- .-. .. … ..- … . - . … - .. .- -.-. ..- .-.. .. … .- -.. .. .--. .. … -.-. .. -. --. .-.-.- …- . … - .. -… ..- .-.. ..- -- .- -. - . .. .--. … ..- -- .--. .-. .. -- .. … .. -. ..-. .- ..- -.-. .. -… ..- … --- .-. -.-. .. .-.. ..- -.-. - ..- … . - ..- .-.. -

Mussem Ipsum

I don’t know who Mussem is but it’s in Portuguese. He looks friendly?

Mussum Ipsum, cacilds vidis litro abertis. A ordem dos tratores não altera o pão duris.Interessantiss quisso pudia ce receita de bolis, mais bolis eu num gostis.Suco de cevadiss, é um leite divinis, qui tem lupuliz, matis, aguis e fermentis.Admodum accumsan disputationi eu sit. Vide electram sadipscing et per.

Neil deGrasse Tyson Ipsum

Generates quotes from astrophysicist Niel deGrasse Tyson. 

As an educator, I try to get people to be fundamentally curious and to question ideas that they might have or that are shared by others. In that state of mind, they have earned a kind of inoculation against the fuzzy thinking of these weird ideas floating around out there.

Nietzsche Ipsum

Generates Nietzsche-inspired text.

Society depths ubermensch christianity sea enlightenment joy virtues decieve society good disgust selfish noble. Ascetic decieve pious play deceptions decieve decieve intentions self self ideal.

Ocean Creature Lorem Ipsum

Generates sea creature-inspired text.

Manta ray with lionfish ect. Coral hogfish fingernail clam in tilefish mandarinfish crab lionfish weasel shark. Yellow pseudochromis weasel shark shadow, darkness in deap ocean an, Motionless Wabash pigtoe Full moon. Colorful soldierfish banded sole jump. Nurse shark at goatfish grey whale.

Obama Ipsum

Generates quotes from former US President Barack Obama.

We are a better country than this. But I will also renew the tough, direct diplomacy that can prevent Iran from obtaining nuclear weapons and curb Russian aggression. It is time for us to act on what everyone knows to be true. This tolerance is essential for religion to thrive, but it is being challenged in many different ways.

Office Ipsum

Generates sentences you’ve heard in every meeting ever. Also has a client feedback version!

If you're not hurting you're not winning pivot, dear hiring manager:, for incentivization even dead cats bounce wiggle room, for one-sheet. Put a record on and see who dances high-level, but we've got to manage that low hanging fruit lift and shift. It just needs more cowbell make it a priority, but strategic high-level 30,000 ft view pro-sumer software, so golden goose low-hanging fruit can we parallel path. 

Pirate Ipsum

Generates pirate-inspired jargon.

Squiffy ballast maroon gangplank tackle grog scuppers driver barque tack. Yardarm mizzen barque capstan heave to hardtack Pieces of Eight port hulk parrel. Pinnace lass Jack Tar gabion Yellow Jack run a rig furl red ensign come about Brethren of the Coast.

Pizza Ipsum

I love pizza ?

Pizza ipsum dolor amet garlic sausage white pizza bianca hawaiian pizza meat lovers large onions. Banana peppers black olives stuffed crust, pizza steak bbq sauce chicken wing meatball garlic lasagna green bell peppers anchovies mushrooms extra cheese. Philly steak bianca pizza mayo, garlic sauce bbq rib platter. 

Placehodler

It’s crypto and I hate it.

Bitcoin could be many dormant accidental fork! Monero waited some efficient do your own research during lots of market cap. Since someone specialises in few quick coin in the difficulty, Litecoin limited a hot wallet at few smart contract, so although SHA 256 did lots of provably fair double spend behind many Lambo

Pommy Ipsum

“The official lorem ipsum filler text generator of the British Empire.”

Pommy ipsum knee high to a grasshopper i'll be a monkey's uncle sod's law knows bugger all about nowt one would like spend a penny grab a jumper, cheesed off that's ace shepherd's pie mince pies anorak because there was nothing on the gogglebox, what a load of guff chippy accordingly nosh on a stag do chin up.

Postmodernist Generator

Generates a whole meaningless essay of postmodernist jargon.

If one examines textual deappropriation, one is faced with a choice: either reject textual precapitalist theory or conclude that sexual identity has objective value. Lyotard uses the term ‘textual materialism’ to denote a mythopoetical paradox It could be said that the premise of textual precapitalist theory holds that narrative is a product of communication, given that narrativity is equal to language.

Ramen Ipsum

Ramen is love. Ramen is life.

Ginger sesame oil abura soba chopped onions chicken stock seasoned egg corn Nagoya pork bones soy sauce. Asahikawa flavoured oil scallions Kagoshima Tokushima abura soba Hakata Tokyo Nissin instant cup ramen soy sauce yuzu toasted sesame seeds ramen burger vinegar.

Rush Ipsum

Generates lyrics from the band Rush.

One likes to believe in the freedom of music, but glittering prizes and endless compromises shatter the illusion of integrity. I wandered home though the silent streets and fell into a fitful sleep. I know it's most unusual to come before you so, but I've found an ancient miracle.

Sagan Ipsum

Generates text inspired by astronomer Carl Sagan.

Paroxysm of global death Drake Equation explorations another world from which we spring a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam. Cosmos kindling the energy hidden in matter globular star cluster dream of the mind's eye ship of the imagination courage of our questions?

Samuel L. Ipsum

Generates quotes from actor Samuel L. Jackson. (Warning: inappropriate language)

Now that there is the Tec-9, a crappy spray gun from South Miami. This gun is advertised as the most popular gun in American crime. Do you believe that shit? It actually says that in the little book that comes with it: the most popular gun in American crime. Like they're actually proud of that shit.

Skate Ipsum

Generates skater lingo.

Skate ipsum dolor sit amet, Primo slide dude rock and roll mute-air 540 nose bump. Masonite locals egg plant trucks Saran Wrap camel back. Pool bigspin Paul Rodriguez no comply mini ramp nose slide feeble. 720 fakie out griptape Grind King mute-air regular footed bail. Pogo rail slide crail slide full-cab feeble concave Johnny Rad. 

Space Ipsum

Generates outer space-inspired text.

There is no strife, no prejudice, no national conflict in outer space as yet. Its hazards are hostile to us all. Its conquest deserves the best of all mankind, and its opportunity for peaceful cooperation many never come again. But why, some say, the moon? Why choose this as our goal?

Trump Ipsum

Generates text inspired by former US President Donald Trump.

You have so many different things placeholder text has to be able to do, and I don't believe Lorem Ipsum has the stamina. You have so many different things placeholder text has to be able to do, and I don't believe Lorem Ipsum has the stamina. He’s not a word hero. He’s a word hero because he was captured. I like text that wasn’t captured.

Web 2.0 Ipsum

Generates text from nonsensical Web 2.0 startup names, just for the heck of it. 

Webtwo ipsum sclipo zapier groupon blippy, wesabe. Empressr twitter groupon meebo joukuu doostang octopart, grockit spock doostang koofers. Scribd airbnb zoho insala gooru chartly yuntaa, odeo knewton koofers balihoo zlio. Wikia prezi zlio empressr glogster cloudera tivo kno, wufoo sifteo zimbra jiglu kippt.

Wine Ipsum

Generates actual filler copy about wine.

The aftertaste, or "finish," is the primary factor in judging the quality and character of wine. Tomato and cherry flavors nestle comfortably together with notes of leather and clay in Sangiovese. A lingering finish indicates a luscious vintage! If a husband found his wife drinking wine in the early Roman times, he was at liberty to kill her. Be not offended when your ex drinks wine.

Yolo Ipsum

I hate this and I will be using it for every project going forward.

Don’t trust anyone, cause you only live once. Aliquam imperdiet, ligula vehicula sodales lobortis, dui arcu ultricies libero, vitae tempor eros libero sed neque. Pop a molly, I’m sweatin’, consequat feugiat eros.  How you like your eggs, fried or fertilized? 

Zombie Ipsum

“A macabre feast of frightful filler.”

Zombie ipsum reversus ab viral inferno, nam rick grimes malum cerebro. De carne lumbering animata corpora quaeritis. Summus brains sit​​, morbo vel maleficia? De apocalypsi gorger omero undead survivor dictum mauris. Hi mindless mortuis soulless creaturas, imo evil stalking monstra adventus resi dentevil vultus comedat cerebella viventium.

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Table of Contents

License AI-Written Books

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Generate SEO Optimized Blogs

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[birdybirdnerd]

🖋️"what inspired you to write your WIPs?"

✍️ "when did you get started writing?"

😭"what are the biggest challenges writing your WIPs?"

behind the scenes ask writing game!

sorry for answering this like a week after you sent it, we only just got back to a port with reliable wifi lmao

gonna use fate or a fools errand for this since its currently my only real wip; i have a couple other things im working on but theyve barely left the brainstorming stage so im not counting them, i havent even started real outlines SO

What inspired you to write your WIPS?

my biggest inspiration was @handdrawnfantasma 's magnus archives/ffx crossover clutching a map of dreams! i actually just finished rereading it during my week long isolation while i had covid lmao so fun timing BUT ANYWAYS its so well written, the way it seamlessly weaves the major plot points of ffx with a cast of entirely different characters without sacrificing their original character arcs, i just. its beautiful. its clever. its SO self indulgent and it gave me the courage to do something similar with the characters from pendragon, a book series that is so near and dear to my heart and has been for almost two decades, and ffxii, another game in the final fantasy series that ive been playing for as long as i could hold and manipulate a ps2 controller. thank you for my life

When did you get started writing?

good question skdjfhsdj i couldnt point you to a specific age, but my earliest fic writing memory is probably from when i was in 2nd-3rd grade, i was writing self insert danny phantom fic and excitedly showing it to all of my teachers. no shame whatsoever, cringe has always been dead here.

What are the biggest challenges writing your WIPS?

keeping myself motivated when the rewards center of my brain is so broken. ive partially hacked it by keeping a bag of gummy bears or sour patch kids on hand when i write and eating one every paragraph or so to get an instant hit and try to train my brain that way, and it works to a degree! i still struggle a lot but im getting better after a months long rut

[townofcadence]

"You know? As much as I love your little feisty attitude, I think a punishment is in order, don't you think??"

His body coil around them like a snake wrapping itself around it's prey, making the shadow look like a smoke of mist. "You have such a pretty little neck, wonder how it would feel under my hands..."

Without further explanation the creature wrapped its hands around their neck, feeling the pule beneath its fingers. "Thats it, you look so exquisite." The hand around them tightens up as the grin against the creature's face widen in glee.

"So beautiful when you struggle like a rabbit to a fox. Almost makes me wanna eat you." Tensing the hold to make sure the air didn't flow into their lungs. Tighter and tighter...

And suddenly, he'd let go, stepping a few feet back as it cackled. The morning sunshine illuminating off the branches,

"It seems sun is coming up, you're lucky I find you amusing to have around. Good night, my sweet rabbit." The creature disappeared, leaving no trace behind.

Artair hears the shadow and he tenses, but he isn't fast enough. The shadow's body wraps around him tight, too tight, before he can even move his arms or-- do anything. He squirms, kicks until his legs can't move, and even then he wrenches against the smoky mist, despite how ineffectual it proves to be. "Fuck you." He still manages to spit the words with the vitriol and intensity of someone not restrained and helpless.

It isn't until it speaks again and those hands find his neck that he freezes. They run over the fabric of his choker, and line up, just a little smaller than the hand-print seared to his neck in a mottled burn. He swallows and it's something that can be felt this close. His arms try to jerk free, escape, something, but he can't. The words make him bare his teeth like a cornered animal, jerking and snapping. He can feel his arm coming loose and he tries to focus on that over the pressure growing, the thinning air. Almost--- got it----

That thing is smiling, a grin that makes him feel sick, but it's hard to focus on anything but those words, his racing pulse, and then those fingers tightening enough he chokes. Artair manages one last ragged gasp before he can't breathe at all, and pain starts to radiate from the vice of the shadow's grip. It squeezes further and further and tears start to cling to his lashes. The noises he makes are desperate rattling things. His vision darkens at the edges and he can feel himself spinning. He tries to hold that breath as long as he can not to give the shadow the satisfaction, but it only takes him so far.

It doesn't matter anyways. He can feel the crushing force against his windpipe. He won't manage any other breaths and he will lose this one. But the need not to give him this one thing, this one thing in his control--- it wins out beyond sense. He manages to free that one arm and grabs at the shadowman, but it takes far too long, His grip doesn't have the strength it should and he does nothing of effect. A few meager strikes against the shadow's back doesn't make it loosen its grip on his neck, take away the overpowering angle it has on him, stop him from gurgling, or saliva from foaming in his mouth as air desperately tries to escape and return. He's going to die, isn't he? He's---

The release is instant. He drops to the floor on all fours, choking and coughing and hacking through the strain on his throat, which only makes it worse. He wheezes in a few rattling breaths, fingers moving to claw at his throat as if to help revitalize it somehow. He coughs a few more times and each breath he takes is audible and strained, like the air was passing through glass instead of lungs.

But the last words strike him, and he looks up, in time, to see it fading away like the rest of the shadow in the morning light. His teeth bare and his face twists into a snarl.

"I'll. Fucking--." His voice is hoarse and weak, and it delves back into a coughing fit as the creature disappears.

[telomeke]

9 people I would like to get to know better

Tagged by @colourme-feral at this post here. Thanks dear friend! 🥰 Because of your post you got me Googling packing cubes as well, but my fallback has always been resealable (and reusable, so not single-use) plastic bags for socks and underwear when packing. 👍

last song: I've been listening to two lately, back and forth. One is ஒரு தெய்வம் தந்த பூவே/Oru Deivam Thantha Poove (O Flower Gifted from a God), a hauntingly beautiful ode sung in the voice of an adoptive mother to her adopted child, recommended to me by dear friend @neuroticbookworm. It's a precious gift, and I need to read the translated lyrics to fully grasp how the melody amplifies the meaning, but each time I listen to this it brings a little tear to my eye.

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The second is uplifting in a different way – เธอหมุนรอบฉัน ฉันหมุนรอบเธอ (You Revolve Around Me, I Revolve Around You) by Scrubb, introduced to me by dear @recentadultburnout. It's a jaunty, retro-style Thai song that was also in the 2gether soundtrack and is an instant serotonin booster.

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favorite color: Deepest blue.

last movie/tv show: Ack. Does Wheel of Fortune count? I also watched an old episode of Nigella Express on YouTube, so let's go with that:

I love the sound of Nigella's voice and her breezy approach while demonstrating eminently doable recipes. But I was actually using this episode to hone my location-tracking skills... Nigella and her daughter Mimi can be seen stopping by a bakery on the way to her daughter's school at timestamp 4.50 – there are enough visual clues in there to track down the location of the bakery (Boulangerie Poilâne at Elizabeth Street in London) and also Mimi's school (Francis Holland School for Girls at Graham Terrace). Purely an intellectual exercise, and quell the alarms please – the episode is from 2007 and Mimi has long since grown up and graduated, so there's no privacy risk. (Both the school and the bakery in 2023 are still at the same locations they were in 2007, though Poilâne – I love the one in Paris – has had a paint job and looks quite a bit different today).

sweet/spicy/savory: Sweet wins out (confirmed chocoholic that I am), but I also LOVE my spicy prik kee noo, and every meal must also be protein-heavy, so savory gets a shout-out too. (As you can probably tell I find it hard to make decisions, especially around food. 😂)

relationship status: Attached, and have been for a very long time.

current obsession: Fruitcake! A post for a three-ingredient fruitcake popped up on my YouTube feed, and because we're heading into the Yuletide season I became obsessed with making fruitcake in time for Christmas. I've been churning out variations ever since the first one fell a little bit short of expectations, and because of my tweaks it's more like eight ingredients now, so… not quite the time and labor saving hack I envisioned. But it's a delicious obsession nonetheless, plus I get to eat lots of fruitcake along the way.

last thing I googled: Fruitcake recipes! Especially for ideas on how to reduce FODMAPs.

No pressure tags: @pandasmagorica, @bengiyo, @solitaryandwandering, @shinybiancachu, @sillybiscuitshepherdskeleton, @respectthepetty, @teaofdesaster, @lurkingteapot, @sunshinechay.

Only listed nine because those are the rules of this game (literally in the header) but if I haven't tagged you dear friends, please know that I wanted to and if you would like to play please do. Always fun to get to know people better here! 💖

[narvaldetierra]

Sleep is overrated

Summary: Tasha is concerned that Patterson hasn't slept for the past three days. AKA Three nights Patterson didn't sleep and the one she did.

Tags: Established Relationship. Self Sleep Deprivation. Mention of Visual Hallucination. Do not try this at home. Words: 3486 A/N: I came up with this idea a long time ago, after watching episode 3x20 when Reade sends everybody home except for Patterson. And we already saw that Kurt had to tell her to go back to her apartment to rest, so here I am. But this story is settled somewhere in season 3, before the dragonfly tattoo and after they caught Hirst. Acknowledgments: I want to take this space to thank @nachosncheeze for being my beta reader in this work and helping me to improve the translation. Without you, this wouldn't be as beautiful as it is. So thank you 💖

1.

Like every software engineer, Patterson knew two basic truths: coffee is needed to exist and sleep is overrated. She could spend entire nights awake and working, she had done it before and those had turned out to be very productive nights. Like those nights working on her science projects in middle school, or like when it was exam season at college. She had done it for this job before too, especially since Jane had appeared in that bag in the middle of Times Square.

It wasn't something that bothered her. In fact, she really enjoyed working at night, when the lab was almost empty and silence reigned. It was much easier to concentrate that way, with no one rushing her, yelling to type faster on a code she was making up on the spot, in an unprecedented, tense situation. Patterson loved her team, they were her family and she would do anything for them, but when they yelled over her shoulder telling her how to do her work, she wished they would leave.

Thus she wanted to use the silence of the night for better concentration. She could feel the pressure coming from Reade to find Roman's location and couldn't blame him, several weeks had passed since the team had gotten back together and so far they had only done what Roman wanted them to do: racing after every tattoo, like donkeys chasing a carrot. That needed to stop. She needed to find something that would at least help them understand Roman's full plan.

As time went by, she took one and two, and three coffees. She walked around the lab to make sure to keep her circulatory system active and thus ensure that her brain was well-oxygenated and kept her alert. "Come on! You can do it!" she said to herself gesticulating with her hands in the air, "You were part of the three blind mice, you are not hacking illegally again, but you can find something that lead to Roman! You've done this too long to give up." She let out a sigh, grateful that no one had been present to hear her talking to herself, then went back to the search as if nothing had happened. 

When it was 5 am she decided to take a shower before the day shift agents arrived, she was sure it would clear her head. And she wasn't wrong at all. Before getting out of the shower, she turned off the hot water so that only cold, icy water would come out to wake her. It was a trick she had learned in college: the ice water in contact with the skin works as a shock to the body, which, under such stress, increases the heart rate, thus increasing blood circulation and releasing adrenaline. In that precise instant, her mind went blank and that's when she realized how to decode a specific tattoo.

2.

After a new day of work, the team had solved another tattoo. They should have been pleased to have done it in record time, but they weren't closer to catching Roman or Crawford. Patterson was beginning to feel frustrated, like when she found a puzzle that couldn't solve and spent days obsessing over a solution. 

That's why she decided to spend another night in the lab, working in that beautiful silence, which had proved to be quite useful. She was sure it could be again, after a very much-needed coffee. A few hours ago she still had that false extra energy caused by the excess dopamine. Now that feeling had faded away and she felt so cold.

She wasn't planning to stay the whole night, just enough to get a lead. However, when she walked into the lab with her steaming mug, her smile faded away when she saw that Rich was also there.

"Oh! Patty Cakes! Welcome to the night shift. What brings you here?" he asked in his characteristic playful mood.

"What are you doing here Rich?"

"Ah, ah, ah… I asked first."

Patterson rolled her eyes and put the mug down on a table near the terminal she decided to work on. "I wanted to advance some work."

"Oh? Yeah… me too. That's what I was doing here… by no means did I forget to do that absurdly boring paperwork they ask for after every mission. I keep those things up to date. Apparently, it's a big deal. Did you know that?"

"Rich, how long has it been since you submitted your paperwork?"

"Maybe two or three–"

"Days?"

"Weeks."

"Rich!"

"I know, I know. That's why I'm here this late. Jeez! You don't have to give me a lecture about it."

"I– I wasn't– ugh," she didn't care enough to say anything else about it.

For the next five minutes, they remained silent, each one concentrating on their stuff. Until Rich's ADHD appeared.

"Do you mind if I play music?" he asked and, without really waiting for an answer, he pressed play. He didn't really care, he needed the background noise, plus it would make the tedious task of paperwork more entertaining.

"No, I guess–" she covered a yawn that interrupted her, "I guess it's ok," she looked away from the screen for just a second and went back to what she was doing.

The playlist was something without any kind of coherence, the most diverse songs were playing, going from a soft melody to an energetic song that sounded too loud for a workspace. There were just the two of them in the lab, and neither of them should have been in there that late. She was already tired, so Patterson tried not to pay attention and kept working.

"I'm hungry. Have you had dinner yet?" Rich asked after a couple of minutes. 

"Not yet," Patterson replied without even looking up, focused on what she was doing.

"Shall we order pizza?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"Oh, wait, I already ate pizza this week," he thought about it for a minute, then he just shrugged "I don't care, I like pizza. Do you want me to order?"

"Rich, I’m trying to concentrate here."

“Sorry, I won’t interrupt you anymore. Just– tell me what kind of pizza you like.” Patterson stared at him in silence, wanting him quiet for once. “Or don’t. Doesn’t matter. I’ll order you a cheese one, everyone likes cheese, or they should.”

Music kept playing, and they went back to work. For a few more minutes Patterson was able to work quietly, although she had a feeling that this was going to be a long, long night with Rich. When her coffee was empty, she looked for a blanket scarf to wear. She had just returned to her terminal when Rich arrived with a few boxes of pizza.

"Dinner is here!"

That was when Patterson understood that she had two options: go back to her apartment or stay the whole night there, dealing with Rich. As tempting as the idea of going to bed was, she couldn't give up so soon. So she stayed, grateful to have more than one change of clothes in her locker.

3.

That day wasn't as exciting as the previous one, but they were able to get some encrypted files that could be of interest in Crawford's case. Thus, the team had a status meeting at the end of the day.

"Patterson, how long do you think it will take you to decode those files?" Reade asked.

"I'm not sure, looks like complex encryption. Maybe a few hours… or maybe all night."

"Alright, get on with it. The rest of you, go home to rest." Then Reade left the lab. He still had paperwork to finish before going home.

Jane and Kurt left as well, talking about dinner. After a long day, they all were tired and, unaware of Patterson's situation, they just wished her a quiet night, so she could solve it quickly enough. One by one, the lab technicians left too, until there was just Patterson and Tasha, who refused to leave her alone.

"It's ok, you don't have to stay, you can go home," Patterson said as she kept typing.

"Perhaps I can't exactly be helpful, but I can keep you company. Besides, you still need to eat and it has been several days since we had dinner together."

"I know, I'm sorry. It's been a long week, with so much work–"

"You don't need to apologize, just pick something to order for dinner."

"Right now, I could use a coffee," Patterson said and covered a yawn with her right hand. She was exhausted and had no idea where she was getting enough energy to keep working.

"Dinner first, coffee later. And don't you dare to say Go-Gurt."

"Fine," she reluctantly agreed, but when she reached out to take the menu Tasha was offering, her hand-eye coordination failed. She thought she was grabbing the menu, but her hand closed right next to it, in the air. Patterson ran the tip of her tongue over her lower lip nervously and hurriedly grabbed the menu, pretending that nothing had happened, but it wasn't enough to fool Tasha.

"What was that?"

"What was what?" she turned and took a few casual steps as she looked at the menu.

"Wait– Patterson how long have you not slept?"

"So, do you prefer Chinese or Thai?" She attempted to change the conversation and picked up her phone, pretending to look for more options to eat.

"Patterson! You promised you wouldn't do that anymore!" 

"I'm ok, it's nothing I can't handle. Besides, you all need me here at the lab."

"But we need you healthy, rested, lucid."

"I know, I know. It's just– one thing led to another." Those were very poor excuses, she wasn't even trying, was too tired for that. "Look, I'll finish this thing Reade asked me to do, and then I'll go to sleep, ok?"

"You should go to sleep right now." 

"Tash, I mean it, I don't want to argue about it now. We can eat dinner together or we can talk about my sleep schedules, but we can't do both, I need to finish this."

Tasha remained silent for a moment, watching her, unable to believe what she was hearing. "I prefer Indian." She decided that it wasn't the moment to have that conversation, but it wouldn't be something she'd let go of that easily.

"Thanks," was all Patterson had to say. Then she ordered the food and went back to her computer to continue typing.

The next few minutes were spent in silence. Words were only exchanged when Patterson reached an impasse and had to find a new approach to get better results, and only turned away from the screen when Tasha returned with their food.

They ate the first few bites quietly until Tasha said "This isn't urgent enough to go without sleep for–" she realized she didn't know - "I don't even want to know how long."

"What if it is?" she hurried to swallow the food to answer, "What if by not decoding this in time, we miss the opportunity to prevent something bad from happening?"

"Is that what kept you awake?"

"No! Yes. Maybe– I don't know! I just know that what we do here is important, there is no space for mistakes."

"That's why you should sleep. You have a giant team of people trained to get the job done, to help you, and complete the tasks while you rest. You need to trust in them."

"I do!"

"Then learn to delegate." Tasha let out a sigh and set the food aside. She approached Patterson and took her hands in hers. "Honey, I'm not looking for a fight, I just want you to take better care of yourself, and have regular periods of sleep so that you can continue doing what you love to do."

"I know…" she admitted.

"I won't insist anymore this time, let's have dinner in peace, finish with the task assigned to you and I'll take you home to rest. But promise, truly and sincerely, that you will not do it again."

"I promise." A soft smile appeared on Patterson's lips and she moved closer to kiss her. 

"Now… could you tell me how many nights you spent here? I promise I won't get mad."

"Hmm…" she hesitated for a moment, and in a barely audible voice said, "This is the third one."

Tasha had to make a great effort to restrain herself from saying anything about it, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, "Can I try some of your food?" she asked with a smile. Then she preferred to change the conversation to keep her promise.

The rest of the night Tasha focused on helping Patterson in any way she could. She wasn't an expert in coding and she knew little about encryption, but she had some basic knowledge, so she could at least take care of minor tasks. As the hours went by Tasha noticed that the blonde's yawns became more frequent, she even saw her nodding off on one or two occasions. The brunette had to hold back to keep her promise and let Patterson finish the job before taking her home to rest.

+1

By the time the team arrived at the lab, Patterson and Tasha were a continuous yawning machine, although they managed to disguise them quite successfully. In their hands was the third cup of coffee of the day, which no longer seemed to have enough effect on Patterson. The blond felt just as tired but with rapid heartbeats due to the caffeine.

Patterson explained, without much interest, how they were able to decode the files. Then she gave them some coordinates from three places related to the new tattoos on Jane's body.

The team departed with a clear mission, leaving Patterson and Rich. They would assist the team remotely, as they always did, providing additional information about the sites they had been sent.

Stepping out into the hallway, Tasha let Jane and Weller go ahead and took Reade aside so they could talk alone.

“You need to send Patterson home,” she said seriously, steering right into his eyes.

“What? The day is just beginning, we need her here.” 

“No. Reade. You NEED to send Patterson home.” She emphasized each word individually to make it clear how serious she was about it. “I know how much we need her, as much as I know you haven't slept well these past days. But Patterson has been awake for four days now.”

“That's not true, she–”

“She won't say anything because she is a workaholic and is determined to find something that gives us the advantage we need. You won't notice it on her face either because she does magic with her makeup. Still, you have to do something about it.” Both were silent for a moment. Tasha took a deep breath and got closer to him. Softening her voice, she added, “Look, I know you hate being compared with Weller but, when he was in charge, he learned the hard way that he had to watch over Patterson's rest periods. Because when she gets obsessed with something, she forgets about anything else. Even eating and sleep become irrelevant for her.”

Reade stared at her, pondering her words. He knew Patterson used to get obsessed over work, but he hadn't really thought it was that big of a deal. He look at Patterson through the window in the lab door, she was writing some numbers on a glass board. Then he felt bad for ordering her to stay the night to work, though he had no regrets if that had brought them any closer to Roman. 

“Listen, you don't have to send her home right now. But unless you want her to collapse in the middle of the lab, you'll do it as soon as her speech becomes erratic or her hands have a tremor.”

“Ok, I'll keep an eye over her,” he finally agreed. Noticing that Tasha was not pleased he added, “I'll be sure to send her home to rest. And then she'll have two days off.”

With a soft nod and a smile, Tasha thanked her friend for taking her words. He was the boss and call the shots, but she would take care of Patterson, especially when the blond didn't do it herself. Then she left to find Weller and Jane. 

The hours seemed to pass slower than any other day. By noon, Patterson could have sworn it was already 7 pm. She couldn't drink any more coffee, she wasn't hungry either. Everything she tried to do, took her double of time. She was cranky too.

Rich intercepted Tasha as soon as she got to the lab.

"I think something is wrong with Pattycakes."

"What? What happened?" She looked over, worried. Patterson was talking to Afreen.

"She's been a little moody. Not that I complain about it, it was a little fun. But I noticed her hands shaking too. Her handwriting is unreadable today."

"I'll take care of it."

"Is she on drugs?"

"What? Of course not!" She approached Rich to get a confident talk, "Look, she hadn't slept well. Reade is aware of this, there's no need for the lab team to know it too. Ok? You'll have to be in charge for the rest of the day."

Rich's eyes had a sparkle in them that terrified Tasha, but she was sure the team could handle anything he did.

"Hi honey," Tasha said approaching Patterson, "I think it's time."

"Oh, hi. Time for what?"

"To go home."

“I'm fine, you don't have to worry, ok?” 

"I know you think that you are, but I've seen you like this before. I still remember when you collapsed from trying to stop Sandstorm too.” 

“Well, that wasn't because of a lack of sleep, I had a radiotransm–”

“You hadn't even eaten that time,” Tasha insisted. She was sure that Patterson's collapse hadn't been only because of that transmitter. But that wasn't important now. “You are a super genius, but you still need to sleep. So take your stuff, we're leaving.”

Patterson didn't have the energy to keep arguing with Tasha and, although she might never tell her, deep down she liked that she cared for her that much. She left what she was doing in Afreen's hands, grabbed her things, and followed Tasha down the halls.

While they waited for the elevator, Tasha saw Reade in his office and just with signs, she told him that she was leaving with Patterson, as they had agreed earlier.

During the short car ride, the little energy that remained in Patterson's body faded away. It took her a lot of concentration to keep her eyes open. Her yawning became uncontrollable. Patterson's body seemed heavier but her mind couldn't rest yet. Somehow she kept seeing Jane's luminescent tattoos floating in the air around her. She had read about hallucinations caused by sleep deprivation before, but it felt weird to experience them.

“You can take a nap if you want. I'll wake you when we get there.”

The blonde shook her head and turned her gaze away following a floating tattoo with the shape of a flaming rose. Patterson's mind, obsessed with solving puzzles, made a series of theories about the reasons why her subconscious bring up that particular tattoo. But before she was capable to make any logical conclusion, they arrived at Tasha's apartment.

After a failed attempt to get out of the car, Tasha hurried to help Patterson to stand up. It was clear that her coordination was failing. She was sleep-drunk enough that climbing a stairway became a challenge. Tasha was sure she had managed to get Patterson to her apartment, just in the nick of time to prevent her from collapsing.

“I'll find you something more comfortable so you can rest better," Tasha offered when they got to the bedroom. She sat Patterson on the bed and made sure she was safe before leaving for the dressing room.

The blonde leaned back, lying crosswise in the middle of the bed. Her feet were still on the ground. She hadn't even taken off her boots. Resting her back on a soft, cushioned surface seemed like a divine pleasure. Patterson hadn't realized how much her body needed to rest until she did.

Tasha returned with a gray T-shirt and plaid pants for Patterson, only to find her deeply asleep. She shook her head, sighing in resignation. Then she took off Patterson's boots and changed out of her pants for the pajamas. She placed the blond on the bed with her head against the pillow and covered her with a blanket. Tasha closed the curtains to create a better resting environment. Finally, after changing her clothes, she lay down next to Patterson. Tasha hugged her, becoming the big spoon, and stroked her hair until she also fell asleep.

(Read it on AO3 too)