yeah i'm trash

5

“You lead me to strange places, Hawke.”
“I’ll take you to stranger places than this, just watch!”

2

Hannibal roamed the halls, holding the small box in his hand and hoping that he wasn’t too late to give it to Will. He had come into work late this morning, the day had been slightly hellish with all of the news of the murder in the park and parents were up in arms over how close it was to the school, worrying how it was affecting their children.

He would have to be careful about location next time.

He walked into Will’s classroom, smirking at the dog pictures that covered most of it and sat the box on Will’s desk turning to leave.

“Dr. Lecter, what are you…”

Will had snuck up behind him, wearing an apron and washing off paintbrushes.

“Will, I was hoping you wouldn’t be here.”

Will frowned. “Did you get me a Christmas present?”

Hannibal nodded, looking away. “The school secret Santa, you were not supposed to know it was me.”

Will walked over to the desk, picking up the box and when he opened it his eyes widened. He looked at Hannibal, licking his lips. “You bought my dogs spa time at that fancy dog spa?”

Hannibal knew Will adored his dogs, he himself was not a huge fan of animals but to see Will happy that was enough.

“I know you care for your animals more than yourself, it seemed the obvious choice of gift.”

Will set the box down and walked up to him, cheeks red as he asked, “I have seven dogs and you bought them each a day at the dog spa?”

Hannibal nodded, frowning, “Was that number wrong? Have you gotten a new one?”

Will’s kiss was unexpected but welcome, hard and soft all at once. Hannibal sighed into the taste, his hand on Will’s back tightening the longer they were joined.

When they came up for air Will was laughing, touching his face and studying him almost too intently.

“I can’t believe you, that was way over the dollar limit.”

Hannibal smiled, taking his hand and kissing it. “That was why I did not want you to know who your gift giver was. I did not…want to show my feelings so blatantly.”

Will chuckled, kissing him again. “Too late for that, I think. Seeing as how I know you’re not my secret Santa.”

Hannibal blushed. “Ah, I see you received Frederick’s gift. I had hoped to dispose of it.”

Will laughed. “I gave it to one of the kids. I love dogs but didn’t have need to take a Fur Real anything home with me.”

Hannibal touched his cheek and smiled. “Do you have plans to take anything else home with you this evening?”

Will kissed him quick and said, “I thought you’d never ask.”

youtube

(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y6rC6-BWU08)


THE MERCY CRY FOR GENJI IS REAL!!! HOLY SHIT YES!!! Go to 0:36 in the video, the genuine heart break in her voice is both beautiful and…well heartbreaking, GG Billzzard, GG

T-Minus 9 sleeps to BMAM-Mass my lieblings and in celebration of the upcoming festive season I give you:

Campwolfe Twelve Days of Christmas

Sung of course from Serena’s perspective with accompanying bonus lyric notes/commentary from Ms. Campbell herself.

On the first day of Christmas that Blonde Job gave to me, a lin-ger-ing look in the LIFT.

<she thinks she can woo me but bugger it if I’ll succumb>

On the second day of Christmas that Blonde Job gave to me, two nesting dolls and a lingering look in the LIFT.

<Nesting dolls?! As if I’d want any of that claptrap to remind me she took off to the Ukraine. The silly pillock labeled them “Fräulein” and “Army Medic”. She’s not putting them on my bloody side of the desk>

On the third day of Christmas that Blonde Job gave to me three vodka shots, two nesting dolls, and a lingering look in the lift

<Vodka.  Finally something I can work with. She left the bottle on her desk. I shared it with Morven and Raf.  HA!>

On the fourth day of Christmas that Blonde Job gave to me four coffees strong ’n’ hot, three vodka shots, two nesting dolls and a lingering look in the lift.

<After the vodka shots from yesterday I need all the coffee I can get.  She’s doing this on purpose. Currently taking the caffeine shots but ignoring puppy dog eyes telegraphing her need for a ‘chat’>

On the fifth day of Christmas that Blonde Job gave to me five whiskey flasks, four coffees strong ’n’ hot, three vodka shots, two nesting dolls and a lingering look in the lift.

<She filled all of them with top shelf scotch. I informed her that I’ve switched to bourbon and her face went all mopey.  Glorious.>

On the sixth day of Christmas that Blonde Job gave to me six leopard print caps, five whiskey flasks, four coffees strong ’n’ hot, three vodka shots, two nesting dolls and a lingering look in the lift

<Ok I’ll grudgingly admit these are quite a lovely peace offering……IT WILL STILL BE A COLD DAY IN HELL BEFORE WE ARE IN THEATRE TOGETHER!>

On the seventh day of Christmas that Blonde Job gave to me, seven crates of shiraz, six leopard print caps, five whiskey flasks, four coffees strong ’n’ hot, three vodka shots, two nesting dolls and a lingering look in the lift.

<Chateauneuf du pape?!?!? Seven crates? What did she do sell her left kidney? Perhaps there is something to this forgiveness thing after all.  It wouldn’t hurt to allow her just one teensy glass would it?

On the eighth day of Christmas that Blonde Job gave to me, eight helpful F1’s, seven crates of shiraz, six leopard print caps, five whiskey flasks, four coffees strong ’n’ hot, three vodka shots, two nesting dolls, and a lingering look in the lift.

<I’ve never been able to find even one F1 who could do a spinal puncture on the first go and she’s found eight who haven’t made my life hell.  She also followed up on all their paperwork. And ran interference with Ric Griffin for me. Fast losing my grip on fury. Damn sneaky tactic Major. Well played.>

On the ninth day of Christmas that Blonde Job gave to me nine ‘please forgive me’s’, eight helpful F1’s, seven crates of shiraz, six leopard print caps, five whiskey flasks, four coffees strong ’n’ hot, three vodka shots, two nesting dolls and a lingering look in the lift.

<She used complete sentences.  That voice! And her lower lip even quivered a bit.  Came dangerously close to accepting her apologies. Settled for wiping away her tears. I may be losing this campaign.>

On the tenth day of Christmas that Blonde Job gave to me ten evenings she’s minding Jason, nine ‘please forgive me’s’, eight helpful F1’s, seven crates of shiraz, six leopard print caps, five whiskey flasks, four coffees strong ’n’ hot, three vodka shots, two nesting dolls and a lingering look in the lift.

<She’s offered to watch Mary Beard with him for the next 10 weeks so I can get paperwork done for the trauma unit. Or garden.  Whichever I prefer.  Apparently. Not quite ready to tell her but; I’m screwed.>

On the eleventh day of Christmas that Blonde Job gave to me, eleven medicinal breakfast pastries, ten evenings she’s minding Jason, nine ‘please forgive me’s’, eight helpful F1’s seven crates of shiraz, six leopard print caps, five whiskey flasks, four coffees strong ’n’ hot, three vodka shots, two nesting dolls and a lingering look in the lift.

<Jason had her come to fish n chips take away. Sneaky sod. Since when does he bugger off to bed a half eight? It was a conspiracy. A bottle or two of Chateauneuf du pape later and suddenly there she was splayed out on the Egyptian cotton.  What was I supposed to do, allow her to drive home?  That would have been frightfully irresponsible. There aren’t enough pastries in Pulses to get me through the sleep deprivation…..>

On the twelfth day of Christmas that Blonde Job gave to me twelve office kisses, eleven medicinal breakfast pastries, ten evening’s she’s minding Jason, nine ‘please forgive me’s’, eight helpful F1’s, seven crates of shiraz, six leopard print caps, five whiskey flasks, four coffees strong ’n’ hot, three vodka shots, two nesting dolls and a lingering look in the lift.

<Yes all right, fine, I’ve given in.  I took the strategic hills but she won the war.  I suppose it was a losing battle right from the start going up against the army. In her defence she’s promised no more Club Screw Up and in my defence her lips are exceedingly convincing.  Turns out full sentences weren’t really needed after all…..>

If anyone is at all interested I could be arm twisted in to actually scratching these lyrics out into some sheet music and posting it. I draw the line at singing - but if someone else wanted to have a go……

remember the pure™ days of gmw when all we had to worry about was who was going to be endgame and not that one of the actors was a raging racist trump supporter

Episode 8&9 of Soul eater
  • Soul: Pasta.
  • Maka: THERE IS TROUBLE AFOOT I MUST DEFEAT THE THING KNOWN AS CRONA
  • Soul: but...pasta..
  • Maka: There.is.trouble.afoot.DOESITREALLYLOOKLIKEICAREABOUTPASTA
  • Soul: fine. Then we shall have pasta.
  • ~Some time later~
  • Maka: shitshitshitshit souls hurt
  • Soul: told you we should have had pasta.
  • Maka: I will spoon feed you pasta. You are my precious bean and I'll never let you get hurt again.
  • Soul: pASTA