Hey guuuys how are you doing?! :D Sooooo, I made a new theme to welcome again our little cute hq!! bbiiieees!! º\(>U<)/º Wanted to try some new colors to differ a bit from my other themes (I think I never had a redish theme, except my xmas ones hahah) BUT I enjoy/hope you all like it ; U ; *hugs*
So excitng for the new season!! Let’s cheer for our little crows one more time hehe XD Wish you an awesome night/day darlings!! Love ya ;D

With Me

Will lingered in the hallway, watching the firelight lick over Hannibal’s arms, his face, the book in his hands. He made no motion, did not go to him and sit beside him on the sofa. He stood, breath held tight, wrestling with himself. He wanted to go sit there, but-

“Will,” Hannibal’s eyes looked up, then flicked towards him, turning his head to find him in the doorway, “come, sit down.”

And he’d been trying so hard to avoid detection, standing down wind and everything. Still, Hannibal had invited him, no point resisting now. He stepped forward gingerly, making his way consciously into the room. Here came the tricky part.

There were many seats to choose from, a sturdy rocking chair, a winged arm chair with its own ottoman, and the sofa, of course. Without looking too deliberate, too tense, without warning Hannibal, he hoped, he measured his steps and sat down next to Hannibal. He sighed with the cushions, making himself lean back in the posture of relaxation and stared into the heart of the fire, unblinking. He felt Hannibal start, pause, felt his eyes skip over the page, onto him, then back, afraid of being noticed for his watching.

“What’re you reading?” Will asked when he was sure Hannibal had read the page fifty times but not taken in a word of it.

Hannibal’s fingers hesitated over the page, trying to read for him. “The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám,” he let the pages fall open towards Will, “In translation, unfortunately. I plan to learn Persian to read it properly.”

“All that for a book of poetry?” Will mused, tilting his head back.

“It is beautiful,” Hannibal explained, “and deserves to be understood in its native tongue.”

Will nodded thoughtfully, “Well, that’s one project for the future.” He winced; they hadn’t discussed the future yet. At all.

“Yes…” Hannibal hesitated, feeling the elephant in the room, “if I find myself with enough time on my hands to-” He silenced abruptly as Will’s arm came down around his shoulders.

Will gulped, feeling like a high schooler on his first date, all stilted movements and anxious energy. Keep calm, relax; it wasn’t as though they weren’t both mature adults who had done this a million times before with other consenting adults. There should be no problem, no awkwardness, and yet… his heart beat in his throat like a bird thrashing at its cage.

Cautiously, Will stroked his thumb against Hannibal’s shoulder, almost to remind himself it was there, real and solid. Hannibal jumped, nearly dropping his book, “Will, your arm-” he fumbled, trying to turn to Will without turning in to Will and finding the proximity made this almost impossible. To look him in the eye he’d have to get closer.

“I’m nearly healed,” Will swallowed, his voice sounding high and foreign, “besides I should be stretching it anyway, so I’m not so sore. So the muscles… heal the… the way they’re supposed to.” He tried not to watch Hannibal, curving into him, pressing against him. He tried to focus on the fire as Hannibal gave in to the position Will had put them in with the softest sigh. It couldn’t be done.

Hannibal turned his head to reply and found his cheek brushing against Will’s shoulder. His eyes closed instantly, his lungs involuntarily inhaling. Will felt his bicep tense with nerves, there was a painful yank at the still closing wound, but he gave no sign of pain, transfixed on Hannibal.

“Physical therapy,” Hannibal returned abruptly, lifting his cheek, voice rough and low, “will be the hardest part of the healing process. It will be… lengthy and very painful for some time.” He licked his lips, trying to open his eyes all the way and failing, “You should still be resting.”

“I can sit here.” Will felt his hand come around Hannibal’s shoulder, palm flat against his arm. His body decided before he did that he wanted Hannibal closer.

“Could we… just… come here,” he mumbled, squeezing Hannibal to him with one long pull.

Hannibal’s last restraints broke. Before Will knew it he felt arms wrapped around him and a face pressed into his collar. Stunned, he put both arms around Hannibal and held him. Hannibal fit into him like a warm, heavy blanket, pressing against him everywhere he felt lonely. Though he’d been alone, he’d never felt lonely… until Hannibal. Only made sense that being with Hannibal could soothe that ache, maybe the only thing that might.

Hannibal’s hands skirted the edges of his bandages, wary of pressing too much, of being too much. Yet, he held tight, squirmed half into Will’s lap, as close as he could possibly get. Will could feel his heart beat, a skittering patter in reckless time, and he was sure Hannibal had no idea Will knew about it. The moment reeked of desperation, and yet… his arm curled tighter around Hannibal. And yet he pressed closer and yearned to feel Hannibal melt against him, melt completely.

Hannibal gave, he shuddered, he kept perfectly silent, but he shook like a leaf. Will held him close and never once thought about letting go. Hannibal gave so beautifully, he pushed and melted and succumbed so perfectly in his arms. This… this was nice. It was actually… really nice, holding Hannibal. He hadn’t expected that.

Will let his head fall against Hannibal’s, let himself breathe in his hair, press skin to skin, rest together like this. He listened to Hannibal breathe and slowly their breaths fell together. He lost track of time and was on the point of sleep when Hannibal murmured something in his ear.


“The fire’s all but gone, we should go to bed.”

The words struck a bell and cracked Will’s eyes open. He was still holding onto Hannibal, smushed together in one corner of the couch. “N-No, don’t go,” his voice croaked, groggy. The implications of it didn’t register immediately, too tired to remember to care too little.

Hannibal paused. “I won’t. But wait here, I’ll get some blankets.” His legs hit the floor and he slowly rose, untangling himself from Will’s arms with unfair grace. Will whimpered, freezing where his Hannibal blanket had been. He closed his eyes and curled onto the sofa completely.

Hannibal returned. He knew he returned because he felt warm again, he felt welcome pressure and weight on the sofa, covering him, slipping up beside him and into his waiting arms. Will’s lips lifted, pleased to be embracing Hannibal once again.

“You’ll regret sleeping like this in the morning,” Hannibal muttered into his chest.

“Won’t,” Will grumbled, one hand stroking idly at Hannibal’s back.

“We could sleep on the bed… still together.”

Will heard the request in his pause. His arms tightened, “Too tired. Drag me to bed tomorrow.” And he hunkered down, pulled Hannibal close, and silenced him for the night with a kiss.

Number One

Ok, hear me out, this is only my headcanon and I know there are comics and novels that debunk this but:

What if Number One and Christine Chapel are sisters?

Maybe she was Christine inspiration and the reason why she’s aboard the Enterprise (because she also wanted to serve in the same starship as her sister and she worked really hard to make that possible).

Maybe Number One is the one that told Christine about Spock, and years later when Chapel finally met him she started falling in love with him (but then Uhura happens ¬u¬)

MAYBE they end up in the same starship when Number One is promoted to captain and Christine is her CMO.

We need a name… Catherine Chapel??? suggestions?

this just in on what i do while procrastinating: dramtically lip singing into a water bottle @ 9pm instead of doing a project thats due tomorrow

for a really long time & from a weirdly young age i would never tell people they were my friends due to a combo of nerves that they spoke to me only out of obligation & fear that by expressing that i thought of them as a friend i would be Trapping them when i wanted them to feel free to leave if they wanted, which is why/how i exclusively called people my “associates” from 9-14 

anonymous asked:

What'd do you think the OT4 + Link's dream dates are?

Allen would either drag _____ to an amusement park, horror houses, or the cinemas. He loves being active during dates, talking about everything and anything with them while they walk ( preferably while holding hands) and doing something that would keep them on their feet for the rest of the day until they had to return. He’d avoid places that reminds him of his piling debt no thanks to his Master.

Lavi would definitely want a more relaxed date; stargazing is a must– he’d be lying in s/o’s lap and talk about anything and everything while they played with his hair. He’d love for nothing more than to stay in his s/o’s arms and do things that are far more comforting.

Link’s ideal/dream date isn’t anything fancy to be honest; he just wants to spend a day away from work - no Lvellie, no Allen Walker, no Black Order - just a peaceful day out with ______ away from everyday things. They’d probably stop by small time cafes with home-y feels, a stroll through the park or even just shopping for things they need.

Kanda wouldn’t really have an ideal date in mind; he’s the type of guy to just go with the flow of things as long as the day is spent without any interruptions from annoying people, missions, or anything relating to the Order really. Though he prefers to not be at crowded places if he can.

Lenalee’s dream dates are cute as heck– she’d adore dates at coffee shops, picnics, or even library dates like Link but she’d also love to just have a date where _____ will take care of her and plan their day out. It’s the sweetest and nicest thing someone would ever have done for her and the day would be perfect without her “parental figures” breathing down their neck.

anonymous asked:

This is gonna sound weird, but humor me... Are you a straight girl?

Hi Anon!

Sorry for the delay, been away from computer.

I will humor you, though, I gotta say, answering this question feels like I am walking into something judgmental lol, unless you are doing a scientific poll lol. But, I hate ignoring an ask unless it’s offensive, and I love my Tumblr friends, so, whatevs. I am indeed, female, though I think I aged out of the term “girl” a few decades ago lol. And yes, so far, I would identify as straight. 

So, I hope that ….humors you? Lol.

I was inspired by Harry’s amazing “all time top ten” mix and got to thinking what mine would be, so I did the next logical thing and made it a meme.

I didn’t actually put a ton of thought into it, I really just said what ten songs shaped me, and changed me and that I couldn’t imagine never having heard or hearing again and came up with:

Songbird-Fleetwood Mac
Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes-Paul Simon
Walkin’ After Midnight-Patsy Cline
4+20-Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young
Keep On Trying-Poco
Summer Breeze-Seals and Crofts
Jack and Diane-John Mellencamp
Jolene-Dolly Parton 
Fire and Rain-James Taylor
Simple Man-Lynyrd Skynyrd

And I’m gonna tag @ohharryhoney, @thingsicant-even, @tiffinities, @justawordshaker and anyone else who wants to share theirs-if y’all wish. 

“I’m TECHNICALLY a-spec even though I’m not in the community and I think a-spec labels are useless, anyway here’s my opinion on ace/aro issues-”

Originally posted by yourreactiongifs



protect ur smol ok


I like the idea of literal dad 76 

Hana spends most of the argument asking whether or not he remembered to pack the cosmic brownies again.(He didn’t)   Also there might be an unofficial helipad on the roof.


the little things i love about lee jihoon: the way he “high five” someone // insp. by: x

Ransom and Holster worry that the whole Jack and Bitty dating thing might be a one-sided thing originally. They’re happy for the two of them when they reveal it over group chat but, after all, all they know about about Jack’s dating/hook-up history is just that he seems emotionally unattached, and although Jack’s their bro, they’re both a little concerned for Bitty.

Their fears are extinguished when Jack comes over to visit Bitty and he basically hovers around Bitty and looks after him like he’s one second away from asking for a kiss. He’s always helping in the kitchen and handing jars from high cabinets to Bitty with such a practiced motion that the tiny Haus kitchen doesn’t seem to bother him at all.  But it’s really only during Bitty’s nighttime pie-making sessions that Ransom and Holster let go of their worries once and for all, when Bitty starts talking about how one of the Falconers had an awful playoffs beard mishap when they were trying to shave it off: “It looked like a worm on his face, I swear–”

And their serious once-Captain, now-NHL Jack Zimmermann–a so-called ‘hockey robot’–just picks up a piece of the dough and puts it above his lips, and says, “Playoffs ‘stache. Kiss me.” Bitty erupts in peals of laughter as Jack tries to smooch his neck, crying out, “Jack, that is unsanitary” which Jack responds with an “Aww, Bits. But I love you.”

Ransom shrieks and he has to take several deep breathes to regain his composure. Holster is hoisting himself on the counter, caught between wanting to chirp them about how embarrassingly adorable they are and yelling “FOINNNE,” but he ends up sticking a dough ‘stache to his own face and attempting to kiss both Bitty and Jack. Lardo gets it on video and sends it to the group chat. Shitty cries and texts back “YOU CAN KISS ME JACK ZIMMERMANN!!! :( :( :(”