led trails

Post-S3 Hannibal deserves everything he gets and Will is the tired husband fic.


The kitchen was warm from the wood burning oven. There was a loaf of bread being baked inside it now and soon there would be the fish to go inside next.

The catch had been small, but it would do for the next few days. There was always the fish in the freezer, but Will was wary of resorting to unthawing those just yet. 

Will held the smallest of the halibut by its head and lightly whipped the tail, slapping Hannibal on the cheek, leaving behind a wet trail that led to the corner of Hannibal’s upturned lips. There was no surprise or shock on his face, he was–as simply as Hannibal could be–happy to have Will’s attention. 

He wiped his cheek primly with one of the patriotically themed discounted paper napkins.

“There is a word for that.” Hannibal said.

“I’m not above doing it again, just so you know.”

“Cornobbling,” said Hannibal. He laughed at Will’s heartfelt groan. If it wasn’t for Will’s scale covered hands, he would have covered his face to shield himself from Hannibal’s humor.

Will pointed his knife at Hannibal. “I am not going to ask you how you know that. I’m not.” 

With every ounce of purposefulness, Will set the halibut back onto the cutting board, ready to start descaling the fish and add it to the tray with the others.

Hannibal moved and stood behind Will, circling his arms around him and placing his hands over Will’s. Together they scaled the fish. Hannibal bit gently at Will’s ear.

“You shouldn’t cornobble people who don’t deserve it.”

“If there was ever anyone in the world who deserved a fish to the face, Hannibal, it’s you.”

“That’s not very nice.”

Will could hear his pout and started to smile. “Yeah, yeah.”


For @sirenja-and-the-stag for informing me about the word ‘cornobble’. I am forever grateful.

what she says: im fine 

what she means: DOG CARCASS IN ALLEY THIS MORNING, TIRE TREAD ON BURST STOMACH. THIS CITY IS AFRAID OF ME. I HAVE SEEN ITS TRUE FACE. THE STREETS ARE EXTENDED GUTTERS AND THE GUTTERS ARE FULL OF BLOOD AND WHEN THE DRAINS FINALLY SCAB OVER ALL THE VERMIN WILL DIE. THE ACCUMULATED FILTH OF ALL THEIR SEX AND MURDER WILL FOAM UP ABOUT THEIR WAISTS AND ALL THE WHORES AND POLITICIANS WILL LOOK UP AND SHOUT “SAVE US!” AND I’LL LOOK DOWN AND WHISPER “NO.” THEY HAD A CHOICE, ALL OF THEM. THEY COULD HAVE FOLLOWED IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF GOOD MEN, LIKE MY FATHER, OR PRESIDENT TRUMAN. DECENT MEN, WHO BELIEVED IN A DAY’S WORK FOR A DAY’S PAY. INSTEAD, THEY FOLLOWED THE DROPPINGS OF LECHERS AND COMMUNISTS AND DIDN’T REALIZE THAT THE TRAIL LED OVER A PRECIPICE UNTIL IT WAS TOO LATE. DON’T TELL ME THEY DIDN’T HAVE A CHOICE. NOW THE WHOLE WORLD STANDS ON THE BRINK, STARING DOWN INTO BLOODY HELL, ALL THOSE LIBERALS AND INTELLECTUALS AND SMOOTH-TALKERS…AND ALL OF A SUDDEN, NOBODY CAN THINK OF ANYTHING TO SAY.

Our adventure packs & first aid kit

@marlothemountaindog / @that-caribou-ecologist has started sharing their adventuring gear, so we’re joining in! We are not quite as advanced, so this’ll probably be our only gear post. Gunner & Firework come on hikes sometimes, but usually it’s just Asher & I. We had better trails to try out before we moved, so now I’m overly prepared for the nearby city trails… I would like to take a drive out to something more difficult in the future and then transition into camping!

In the spirit of getting Asher used to his Ruffwear Approach Pack (same as Marlo’s but orange), I have him carry the majority of our stuff.

In my Camelbak (most of these things aren’t pictured):

  • 3 liter bladder (I really prefer the Camelbak tubey thingy over getting a water bottle for myself… I probably wouldn’t drink otherwise)
  • Camera
  • 30ft leash
  • Harness in case he can’t carry his pack at some point
  • Lots of backup snacks for me (I have reactive hypoglycemia and it’s the most annoying thing on hikes tbh)
  • Extra clothing/space for putting away excess clothing

In the Approach Pack:

  • Two water bottles that fold out to use their containers as dishes (totaling about a liter… I use them both to keep the pack balanced for Ash)
  • Collapsible water bowl (don’t need this with these water bottles, but I bring it anyway; sometimes Asher won’t drink and I try the bowl instead)
  • Knife (the Boker)
  • Finding Dory pocket tissues
  • Matches
  • First Aid Kit! (all of which fits into that lovely little bird purse)

In the first aid kit (all spread about):

  • Vet wrap (red) & gauze
  • Benadryl
  • Band-aids
  • Neosporin
  • Eye drops in case Asher’s act up again in the spring/summer
  • Extra ziplocs
  • Green Stix (see that packet that looks like a green matchbook? they’re styptic swabs!!! they’re for barbers, so they come out of a matchbook like thing, you get them a little wet, and then they’re ready to go! I love them even though I haven’t had to use them yet)

On person/dog:

  • Collar!
  • 6ft leash
  • That felty red belt up there, from White Pine Outfitters

I want a Epic Rap Battle of History of Hamilton vs. Andrew Jackson. You’d have Miranda playing Hamilton and rapping and the guy who starred in Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson doing punk lyrics. Can you imagine – the guy who built the National Bank and stood up for slave’s rights versus the guy who destroyed said bank and led the Trail of Tears? 

i couldn’t let this post go, so here we go friends

There was a trail of fabric, stuffing, and beads trailing down the hall until Dean came to stand in front of the office space. It wasn’t really an office; when he and Cas had bought the house, they’d figured adults had offices, so they needed an office. 

But, of course, the office was really just a giant room full of junk with a desk and an ancient desktop computer.

Dean frowned as he finally took in the sight the trail led him to. Cas was taking measurements of their son. “Uh, what’s goin’ on you guys?” 

Jimmy turned a huge smile on him, “I got in the school play!” 

“Yes, Jimmy, was cast as sheep number six and I’m going to make his costume,” Castiel replied seriously as he wrote down a measurement in a notebook. “There, all done.”

“Thanks, Papa!” Jimmy leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Cas’ cheek. “Can I go play now?”

“Yes,” Castiel replied as he began to sit and sketch or write, Dean couldn’t tell. “Say hello to your father.” 

“Hi, Dad!” 

Dean smile and accepted a hug from Jimmy on his way to go play, before walking over to peer around Cas’ head. “Cas, he’s a… sheep? And you’re going to all of this trouble?” 

Castiel looked up at him, completely serious. “Yes, Dean, this is very serious.”

“he’s just a sheep-.” 

“But he’s our son and he’s our sheep and I am going to make him the best costume,” Castiel insisted. “If you have a problem with that, you can just go watch TV.” 

Dean sighed and slid down to his knees to kiss Cas’ cheek and neck. “Baby, I think it’s sexy that you’re gonna make Jimmy the best costume ever. I love that… I just think it’s a little silly, I guess. He’s got what? One line? No lines?” 

“He has two lines,” Castiel snapped. 

“Are the lines, ‘baa baa’?” He smirked a little, making Cas blush. 

“Yes…” 

“That’s sweet, baby.” 

“Dean, he has to be the best sheep in the whole play. I won’t let his costume be second rate, just because he’s a sheep.” Castiel glanced at his silly sheep sketch, which looked more like a cotton ball with four legs and a smiley face. “He has to win.”

Dean blinked. “Win? Cas, there’s no winning, it’s a play, not a-.” 

“Dean, he has to win. He has to be the best sheep the whole school has ever seen, because he is.” Castiel pressed a quick kiss to Dean’s lips. “Now go away, you’re distracting me.” 

Dean sighed and hauled himself upright. “Okay, okay. I love you, Cas.” 

“I love you, too, Dean.” 

@miiwato

Subaru was on the trail of that inspector, since she’d vanished without a trace. There were questions of if it was Organization related or not. Of the various police, she was one of the more competent, so her getting involved wouldn’t be too much of a surprise.

The trail had led to a hangar with some… curious protections. While he had used extended metaphors of wolves, ravens, crows, and hunting, any Organization members being inhuman was entirely incidental, even with the constant allusions to silver bullets when talking of what could take them down. Carefully, he broke in through the weakest point and crept in, only to see a purple-tinged dragon lurking inside.

“…Er, hello.” Dragons were actually quite intelligent; though the east generally treated them with more respect, while the west portrayed them as more malevolent. “Is there a reason why you’re in here?”

Kalvive Has a Hunch, Boscogn Has a Scent (BoL 3/28)

For the next step in the current Myrwood storyline, the characters present will choose whether to pursue the trail of the necromancer who was aiding the cannibals or find an explanation for the gigantic and unusual grue encountered.

A Rest Development -

During the War of the Light, a lone knight was sent to Scalla’s Rest with a control rod to coerce the undead there into war against the Argent Crusade, though seemingly nothing came of it.  Given Scalla’s life as a human, and her manifestation of something akin to the Miasma in undeath, the location seems worth investigating in connection to how a marsh creature may have manifested.

A Spider’s Sense -

Not one for theorizing or speculation, Boscogn has been doing his party by following the rumblings and collapses of earth resulting from the tunneling of the large serpentine masses of skeletons.  The trail has led to a cave in the hills south of Revenant Point, a fitting home for a necromancer on the run.


@bloodoflordaeron

ask-a-deaf-gardevoir  asked:

*The woods were a dark green, with shadows dancing and ghosts playing mind tricks. The path seemed pretty straight-froward - there weren't many alternate paths - but kept showing the same two blue flowers on the side, that led to an off- trail. This was the way to an old mansion, where a gardevoir who spoke only with those who have passed was said to reside. In a place quite fitting, a forest that was a haunting itself. The forest of the dead.*

Dana had heard of this place whispered about in Po Town. Nobody really wanted to go over there. It was all very spooky. But Dana loved the idea. Drifloons were her favorite Pokemon and she was sure there was some there.
After getting directions, Dana made her way to the edge of the forest. It didn’t seem so scary. So she started through.

4

books read in 2017 ✖︎ made by j.m. darhower

Life, he thought, had been like a line of dominos, set up in a complex, interweaving path, toppling one another as things fell into place. Corrado often tried to pinpoint what had been the trigger, the first domino in the line, the one that had set him on this path of no return.

How far back did it all go?

He wasn’t sure where it began, but he did know the end. He knew where the trail led to, what the last domino to fall would be.

It would be the last page in Celia’s scrapbook.

2

John Lennon on the roof of his East 52nd Street penthouse, New York, photographed by Bob Gruen. (August 29th, 1974)

-

“Writing songs,” says Paul McCartney, “is like following a trail – and you never know where it will lead you.”

Today, the trail has led us to McCartney’s studio in rural Sussex. Rabbits snuffle around the garden and the English Channel shimmers in the distance. There are worse places to work. A quick scan of the studio kitchen reveals a copy of Mary McCartney’s recipe book and a John Lennon calendar; March’s pin-up is “Moody John” in sunglasses posed against the New York skyline.

— Paul McCartney, interview w/ Mark Blake for Q: Songs in the key of Paul. (May, 2015)