[text]: Oh My God.

// u kno what’s cool?  messages about threads u like instead of rebloggin those threads bc it messes up my reblog counter

there are so many obnoxious shirts for cat/dog lovers but. are there ones for people who keep insects. inquiring minds must know

moths are gothic butterflies <3

// @drhanniballecter and I have been constructing Will's phone.

repost since i realized that no one has been able to see my posts in the wild… here’s god strongest soldier and wettest dog

Will was busy looking at the moon.  He’d had a few drinks in him by then, and he’d paid a cab to take him back to Quantico.  Plan was he’d just sleep off the spirits in his office. Somewhere along the line he must have changed his mind because now he was in his psychiatrist’s front yard and the cab was nowhere in sight.  Not even the faint smell of hot carbon emission was left.

He blinked, and the moon left a blue after-image on his eyelids.  “Oh.  Didn’t mean to wake you, Dr. Lecter.”

@drhanniballecter:  a fucking crescent moon emoji

Will allowed Hannibal to do this; let his hand be guided down and to the undoing of that top button.  He pressed his nail into the skin, feeling the dusting of chest hair there catch as he scratched his way down.  He let himself be guided back to the bowl, hands braced against Hannibal’s shoulders for balance.

“Then I’ll give you me.”  Will said, and felt the warmth of chocolate and Hannibal’s lips against his own.  He licked around and in Hannibal’s mouth, scraping his teeth against lips and tongue.  He brought a hand up to cup Hannibal’s neck and adjust the angle; he wanted to taste as much of this man as possible.  With his free hand, he undid the rest of the shirt buttons and ran his fingers through Hannibal’s chest hair, sometimes scratching down to feel that rhythmic catching of hair against nails.

Pulling away, breathing a bit labored, Will wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  His fingers lifted the hem of his shirt slightly, just enough to reveal some of his skin.  He paused and his mouth twitched into a smirk:

“What’s the magic word?”

// if u wanna // [runsonfear]: "I assume this is a food."

“You’re not hesitating are you? I assure you, it’s delicious.”

drhanniballecter:

runsonfear:

drhanniballecter:

“Yo.”

Hannibal swagged his way over to his office door, made agape by one unfortunate visitor.

He was just in the middle of cookin up another crime scene, so whoever it was at the door was in a shitload of trouble.

“You dun goofed, mate.” Hannibal growled dangerously.

“No you.” Will was hip to all the happenings up in here.  He’d figured it out with his empathy or whatever.

“The jig is up, fam, I’m knowin on your game.”

“Listen, Sweaty” Hannibal smiled condescendingly. He wasn’t about to let some basic hoe step in up on his shit. He knew how to handle this tight sitch with some choice shade.

“You may think you’re playing the game, son,” hannibal started, with the heaviest amount of salt

“Butt sweaty pie, you’re actually tripping balls something fierce.” There was enough salt for a batch of Mcdonalds 99c menu fries.

Hannibal may be a salty hoe, but Will was ready for that shit.

“El-oh-el, you actually think I want to play your game?  Finna end the mother fucker.”  If they were in Sassyland living in Sassy City, the Capital of Sassyland, then Will would have been the mayor of Sassy City and he’d live in the sassiest building in Sassy City and, in his spare time, be the captain of the S.S. Sassy.

“Like, why are you so obsessed with me?  Your design isn’t even that great.” He snapped his fingers in a z-formation.  “Hashtag REKT.”

A very quality starter||open to all

Harvard Museum of Natural History, 2011-02-05