#i kind of half assed hannibal’s face but ignore it please

[leoleyline]

hannigram but theyre that gif from wilde

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Don’t want to bother you again but omg, I need subby Spencer or literally fluff with Spencer our little BAU nerd 🥺

.⋆｡Breaking Rules｡⋆.

Spencer Reid x plus size reader

Spence is beyond pent up and you’re the only one who can help him

Warnings: smut, sub!Spencer, handjob, dom!reader, sex at work, having to stay quiet, season 2 spencer, begging, biting, d/s dynamic (spencer has rules he has to follow), praise, aftercare

WC: 924

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

His gaze burned into the back of your head as you worked on the pile of paperwork in front of you. You knew what he wanted and you would be lying if you said that you didn’t want it too but there was too much work to be done.

With Elle resigning and cases popping up at an increasingly exponential amount, you and the others on your team were saddled with mountains of paperwork, which unfortunately meant that you and your boyfriend haven’t had a lot of alone time together for the past few weeks.

He was quickly becoming extremely needy- humping your ass as you cooked dinner, trying to bury his head between your plump thighs as you did work in your shared home office, he even fell asleep with one of your tits in his mouth just last night. And now, he was even going so far as to break one of his rules (no sex in the office) in order to get some kind of relief.

You looked up from the case file that you had been staring at to look around the bullpen. Everyone was  buried so wholly in their work that they wouldn’t notice the absence of two of their team members. Sighing, you closed the folder in front of you and spun your chair around by only a few inches. Immediately, Spencer perked up like a little puppy waiting for a treat. With an almost imperceptible nod, you stood up and made your way to the ladies room.

Just as you slipped into the largest stall at the back of the restroom, the door swung open once more and in scrambled Spencer, red-faced and bent over as he tried to conceal the hard bulge between his legs. “Please ma'am, please I need it so bad.” He begged, pawing at your tight skirt.

You tutted. “You know the rules baby.” He whined in response, his big brown eyes, already hazy with submission, filling with tears. “But- that doesn't mean that I won’t take care of you.” 

Spencer’s knees buckled as you gently laid your palm against where he needed you most, and gave his aching cock a squeeze. “Ma’am.” He curled over on himself, burying his large nose in your hair as he pushed his thin hips into your hand. 

“You have to be quiet baby. Can you be a good boy and stay quiet for me?” With your other hand, you guided his face into the crook of your neck, muffling the soft groans that were already slipping from his lips as your touch became more firm. “Can you open your belt for me baby?” He nodded against your throat, his trembling hands fumbling with the buckle. It fell open suddenly, causing him to yelp softly as if the clink of the scratched metal scared him. Spencer’s pants sagged, exposing the top of his loose boxers which grew tighter by the second.

Your hand dove into the soft fabric, finally taking a hold of him. Spencer’s moan was as loud as a scream in your ear but it barely echoed through the small stall. He throbbed in your hand, his cock hard and angry. Precum dripped from the head onto your half-closed fist, making your palm glide along his length smoothly.

Your own arousal was almost too much, the wetness between your soft thighs growing to a level which you could not ignore but your boy needed you more than you needed relief. “You’ve been so good for me. Doing your work, following your rules. You’re such a good boy, my best boy.” He throbbed against your soft palm.

“M-ma’am.” He whimpered. You smiled against his silky hair and kissed his temple gently. Your grip tightened even further, making Spencer go boneless in your arms as he rooted against your neck. The collar of your shirt was suddenly pushed aside as he bit down on your shoulder, his eyes squeezed tightly in pleasure.

You winced at the dull ache of his bite but did not pull him off, knowing he needed it to muffle his noises and remain grounded. He bucked into you with uneven thrusts, he was chasing his end as quickly as he could, his brain too foggy to focus on anything else. “That’s it, cum for me baby. Make a mess all over my hand. So so good for me.”

The only warning you received was a particularly throaty groan against your shoulder before he exploded into your hand, his hot release gathering around your knuckles as he rode out his high. “Oh baby, that was a lot. You must have been really hurting.” He nodded pathetically, making you smile. With another kiss to his head, you released his softening cock and stepped back. “Let me clean you up baby and then you can go back to your desk.”

He stood perfectly still as you whipped away the evidence of your small romp, throwing the used tissue into the toilet after you cleaned up your hand. You pulled up his slacks and redid the belt for him, tucking his shirt neatly back into place once you were done. The flush on his cheeks had begun to fade as his lips met yours in a gentle peck filled with love. 

“Thank you.” He muttered against your lips before pulling away and walking out of the bathroom, albeit a lot more sluggish than when he walked in. 

You quickly cleaned between your thighs and followed after him, suddenly a lot more motivated to finish up your work.

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[makeste]

BnHA 326: What’s up Kids, It’s Me, Your Old Pal Stain

Previously on BnHA: Ochako shamed the U.A. Clown Mob into letting Deku go back inside his own fucking school by giving them an hour-long speech about how not to be humongous dickheads. Kouta and Gigantic Fox Lady saved the manga by being the only ones brave enough to give Deku a hug. Shouto was all “man, all this togetherness sure does remind me of that promise you made that we would handle Touya together which you immediately bailed on, doesn’t it, Dad.” Aizawa was all, “for the one and a half people out there who thought that my losing an eye and a leg might actually make me less sexy, I’m very happy to prove you wrong.” All Might was all, “[standing outside the U.A. fortress alone in the rain talking to someone or something??].” Like seriously, what was up with that though.

Today on BnHA: All Might is all “here I am in Kamino having a belated mid-life crisis because Deku abandoned me and I’m a terrible mentor and everything sucks and I hate myself.” Stain is all, “don’t make me come over there and give you a ten page speech about why you’re still the goat while menacingly holding you at swordpoint the entire time” because idk if you knew this guys, but Stain is pretty crazy actually. Anyway so he does that, and then All Might gets all emotional, and then the lady from chapter 92 shows up and gives All Might’s statue an encouraging pep talk, and then Horikoshi is all “and it even stopped raining lol can you believe this shit I’m not even a little bit subtle,” and he really isn’t. But I still got emotional anyway, because seeing people reassure All Might that everything he’s struggled for his entire life hasn’t been in vain just got to me okay. Horikoshi knows I am weak to the All Might feels and he just goes for the jugular every time, that bastard.

lmao. “in the neverending downpour, All Might is...” yeah, thank you, glad we’re getting right to that then

“All Might is driving 95 mph in his busted ass car in the pouring rain, is what he’s doing.” huh

so basically a day or two after his adopted child refused to accept the handmade bento that he packed with love, my man is out here acting like he’s got nothing to live for anymore. this sure bodes well for certain prophecies on which the clock is still ominously ticking down

his fucking face though omg. is it weird that I’m kind of hoping more people ambush him just because I think it’d be funny to see them get their asses kicked like the last bunch

(ETA: or maybe he will just stand there openly not giving a fuck and basically daring them to stab him!! get it together please All Might.)

side note, “anti-hero supporters” is such a strange way of saying “people who hate heroes”, which I’m assuming is what they actually wanted to say?? this makes it sound like it’s a group that really loves antiheroes. “these Hannibal stans have been a real menace lately. time to go deal with them”

ha ha ha, fucking ouch

are you really gonna do it Horikoshi you bastard. are you really going to let that be the final encounter between the two characters whose relationship you once described as the vertical axis of the entire fucking story. are you really gonna?? huh??

huh

you’re telling me you were driving 112 mph and you still didn’t get there in time. you’re losing your touch old man. lol Todo’s ice is almost fully melted already, how late were you

(ETA: so apparently this is taking place after the end of chapter 325, meaning he went to U.A., hung out for a bit, saw the kids come back with his bedraggled half-dead protégé in tow, watched as they shamed the civilians into some long-overdue character development, and then was all “welp, time to go argue with the hero-hating faction or something because I’m feeling useless.” and Edge just let him go, just like that. though to be fair I have to imagine it’s pretty hard to say no to All Fucking Might.)

also belated lol at the fact that the kids were all “yeahhhhhhh we are definitely not gonna touch that thing, let’s just leave it here, he doesn’t need it anyway.” probably the right call to make since they couldn’t get a hazmat team on such short notice

fuck. ha ha ha fucking ouch part two

All Might please put that thing down before you get gangrene. also yeah, you dropped the ball, good for you to acknowledge it. nobody’s perfect and you did your best. but yeah you could have handled a lot of things completely differently. but I still love you

is Horikoshi really putting this flashback here. are you serious. what kind of fucking sadist

look, I swear I’m not one of those people that runs up and down the street shouting “DEATH FLAG!!” at every third panel lol. but this shit screamed Death Flag when we originally got it, and it’s screaming DEATH FLAG!!! even more now. like with the capital letters and exclamation marks and all. and that’s just a fact. I don’t like it but that’s how it is

ffkdjslk

“DID YOU READ THE SIGN??!” Horikoshi asks while zooming in maniacally because he thinks we’re blind or something. lol what

-- though actually, it only just occurred to me that this sign is actually written in English. I never really paid attention up until now and had been assuming it was written in Japanese and translated by the scanlators, but the writing here is clearly part of the original image. anyway so maybe that’s why he’s zooming in?? just to make sure everybody pays attention lol

okay fuck this

see, this is the whole problem right here. once again All Might is all on his own. Deku’s self-destructive angst spiral was fortunately brought to a grinding halt because he actually has support from his friends and family and teachers and classmates. but All Might never had that same kind of support, and it’s made all the difference between the two of them, and not in a good way. Katsuki wasn’t wrong when he said All Might and Deku were both cut from the same cloth. but now when it’s All Might’s turn to go all “I WALK A LONELY ROAD~~” once again, there’s nobody in sight

just, after forty plus years of him carrying this torch, I just wish someone would finally come along to let him know he doesn’t have to. all those things that he wanted to say to Deku are also things that he needs and deserves to hear himself. Aizawa was making a little progress there, but now he’s got his sad zombie cloud boyfriend situation to deal with, and we can’t expect him and his perfect hair to solve all our problems. someone else has gotta step up

oh my god

“you rang?” never mind I take it all back sob

omg why am I laughing. shit

this man truly has the best PR game in the series. we were truly convinced he was gonna suddenly become a good guy and defend All Might against the other villains or some nonsense. as if this wasn’t the same man who decided on a whim that Iida Tensei deserved to be paralyzed, and that his fifteen-year-old brother deserved to die for daring to be upset about it

lol even All Might is all “I genuinely never saw this coming” lmao

just want to say, for the record, I have always harbored a very sensible hatred toward Stain. feeling very vindicated right now. good job Past Me

adsfklwkfsdwgkj

ffffwefjslkg. ghsdlkg. dsfkkkslkjldwkjrg

STAIN: heard you talking shit old man

ME: smh that’s what I thought you’d say you dumb fucking Stain

STAIN: how dare you talk about All Might that way

ME: gljfljgk

(ETA: in hindsight I have no idea how I didn’t clue in sooner that he didn’t recognize him -- or, well, ~didn’t recognize~ him, to be more accurate lol. I think it was the whole “is that a slight against the heroes?” thing that threw me. Viz’s translation makes it much clearer that he’s offended on behalf of All Might specifically, not heroes in general. anyways.)

sob. so All Might is all “yeah I don’t blame you for not recognizing me in this sweet leather jacket”

good thing he still knows how to do this party trick

A+ reflexes on Stain’s part presumably pulling the sword back a few inches to keep this dumbass from impaling himself with his whole pufferfish routine. can you imagine if that was the gruesome death Nighteye foresaw. and he was just too embarrassed to say anything

lol anyways guess I was wrong about Stain everyone

way to fucking go, Past Me. you really biffed this one

oh wait

Stain sure is one wacky rollercoaster ride

oh fuck me lol I forgot how much I did not miss this

(ETA: “this here is the sacred ground where All Might gave up the last of his power and turned into a shriveled old man!! please ignore the part where I admit to knowing all about that, and yet pretend not to recognize said man when he’s standing two feet in front of me.”)

Past Me, I know we’ve had our ups and downs these past ninety seconds, but I’m really starting to think you were on to something. this dude has always been kind of insufferable. always acting like his high horse is a fucking giraffe when it’s actually a Shetland pony

dammit now he’s got All Might going off on a depressed monologue

oh my god my heart

shit

why the fuck does that hit so hard. he became a hero because he couldn’t bear to just sit back and let bad things happen to people who didn’t deserve it. I mean that’s basically the same as every hero ever, right? so why does it still hit so fucking hard every single time though. what is it about seeing someone so determined to stand up for other people and fight on their behalf. it just never loses its impact no matter how many times I see that determination mirrored in so many of my favorite characters

“I wanted to make the world a better place.” omg. but you did, though. like seriously, I feel like people are always dogging on him for not being 100% perfect, and fandom really doesn’t give him enough credit for everything he still managed to accomplish. this man came of age at a time when Japan was by all accounts a total shitshow, and singlehandedly managed to bring about an era of peace that lasted for four fucking decades. can you imagine having peace for that long?? that’s longer than I’ve been alive. shit

and he gave people hope. he inspired them and protected them and made them feel safe. and no, he couldn’t save everyone, because he’s only one fucking dude (and also because the whole time AFO was also out there desperately working to undermine him so that he could keep preaching his narrative of “heroes are bad actually”). but you know what he did do, is inspire multiple new generations of heroes who, if they can all manage to work together, will finally be able to accomplish everything he never could

so yeah. forty years of peace, and inspired the “that’s how we all became the greatest heroes” generation -- that’s a fucking win in my book. talk about having a net positive impact on the world. lol anyways now I’m all fired up and ready to fight anyone who tries to talk any shit about you, All Might

“but what if I talk shit about myself” okay listen up All Might I’m gonna need you to try just a little bit harder to work with me here okay. please calm down and stop blaming yourself for every single bad thing that’s ever happened in the world. do you remember that time Bakugou was blaming himself for Kamino, and you gave him a hug and told him it wasn’t his fault, and that he was only a boy, and that even though he was strong, even strong people can struggle with the burdens they place on themselves, and that you were sorry for not seeing that earlier? do you remember all of that? that’s what I want someone to tell you too, dammit. anyway please stop breaking my heart please and thanks

wtf

are you dead All Might

um

I don’t even have the slightest idea what’s happening lol

oh snap did he grab him so they could hide??

hold the fucking phone. don’t tell me this person in the background with the umbrella is here to actually do something decent??

oh my godddd

and here come the feels. oh boy. okay don’t mind me, I’m just gonna sit here sobbing over this fictional lady and her simple act of kindness in this weekly shounen manga that I care about way too much

FUCKING DAMMIT AND HERE’S A SECOND HELPING

DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST GETTING DISPROPORTIONATELY EMOTIONAL OVER THIS WOMAN’S DETERMINATION TO HONOR A MAN WHO SACRIFICED EVERYTHING TO SAVE HER AND COUNTLESS OTHERS. I’M JUST HAVING SOME FEELS OVER HERE ABOUT HER HEARTFELT, DOESN’T-EVEN-KNOW-ANYONE-ELSE-IS-WATCHING FEELINGS OF GRATITUDE THAT COMPELLED HER TO COME OUT HERE AND MAKE THIS SMALL BUT POWERFUL GESTURE. I’M JUST OUT HERE GETTING ALL PROFOUNDLY WORKED UP ABOUT STATUE MAINTENANCE AND THE HUMAN RACE. NEVER MIND. JUST IGNORE ME AND CARRY ON

holy shit. I was not even remotely prepared. you can’t just do that to me. you can’t just leave all these death flags on my lawn and then suddenly shift gears to show me the best of humanity in a chapter where I was expecting the worst. that fucks a person up lol

OH ARE WE STILL GOING

my heart. you see that, All Might. your legacy is so much more powerful and meaningful than you think

...has. has Stain actually been giving All Might a pep talk this entire time

I give up lol. this dude is a fucking enigma

YAYYY

it may just be a metaphor panel, but I’ll take it lol. I missed them. nice to see the traffic light trio front and off-center. I know the whole “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes” thing had left some questioning whether certain characters would continue to play a central role in the narrative, and hopefully this will help to ease those concerns just a bit

anyway, so idk if it’s getting a bit chilly down there in hell, but damned if Stain didn’t just give an actual decent fucking speech

I have to say, earlier when I was whining about All Might not having a support squad, I really was not expecting Stain to be the one to come over and pat his head and reassure him that he made the world a better place

-- okay LISTEN

YOU CAN’T JUST COME INTO MY HOUSE AND HIT ME WITH THOSE ALL MIGHT TEARS AGAIN GODDAMMIT THIS ISN’T FAIR. my god. first 317 and now this

holy fucking shit

“I’m just gonna pretend like I haven’t been stalking him for two days and didn’t see the entire Deku bentogate thing go down, and then I’ll give him the whole big speech that I rehearsed, and then I’ll turn around and be all ‘BUT IF YOU’RE A TRUE HERO’, and then I’ll toss him the super-secret AFO wifi password that I stole from Tartarus. god I’m such a badass. fucking give myself chills”

so basically what you’re telling me is that this whole time my “what’s up kids” characterization of Stain from this shitpost has actually been 100% accurate. just want to make sure I’m understanding this right. okay then

“and then I’ll dramatically spin around and be all NOW COME KILL ME BITCH”

it must be so much fun to write Stain. drawing this coked-out maniac who talks like a chatbot that was trained to speak by reading Alan Moore monologues. that must be a trip

anyway so All Might is still crying, the awesome lady from chapter 92 is admiring her handiwork totally oblivious to the batshit insanity going on fifty meters to her right, and it’s finally stopped raining lol

“THE RAIN WAS A METAPHOR YOU SEE” yes, yes, we got it lol. thanks for that Horikoshi. don’t think we needed any help putting the pieces together on that one but I appreciate the effort

so that’s the end! and as I mentioned in another post, I had the count off by one chapter, but next week should be cliffhanger week! so break out your U.A. Traitor bingo cards, friends and fiends. either that or something else happens that I’m completely not expecting at all. which, based on my success rate with Stain predictions, I’d say is more than likely lol

mmm but anyway, so now that the Hug Deku 2021 campaign has finally come to an end, what’s it gonna take to get a hug for my struggling bento-preparing jacket-rocking world-weary death-flag-waving husband who is the worthiest man to ever live and deserves the fucking world, goddammit

[gumnut-logic]

Coffee

This is @godsliltippy ‘s fault because she was so kind to me and posted Pocket Virgil to help me through the day. Above is the original three clips, of which Pocket Virgil is part of Clip Two. After watching Pocket Virgil try again and again with no success, I kinda wanted to help him, so this fic happened.

Total meta crack, that really didn’t go anywhere, but hopefully will be fun nonetheless. Certain laws of both physics and worldbuilding were totally ignored, so there may be some brain frying concept-wise.

This is for Thunderfam and for all the kindness you continue to bestow upon me. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. You guys are amazing. ::hugs you all::

Leave sense at the door. I hope you enjoy it :D

-o-o-o-

Virgil Tracy was grumpy.

He knew this idea was good an all and he fully supported Lady Penelope when she suggested they document some of their rescues for the general public.

But not once...not once! Did she mention that he would be dragged out of bed before the sun, thrown on a set to perform, and the only coffee they would provide would be thimble-sized, consequently cold and allocated to break times.

At the moment, ‘break’ was definitely a keyword. Sans coffee, Virgil Tracy was quite ready to do something of the kind to the director.

“Now, Virgil, I know you’re tired, but you are the calm brother, the respected peacemaker of the family. Snarling at the camera isn’t quite in character.”

In character? He was playing himself, for goodness sake. He was in character, character sans coffee! Across the studio, he eyed the Tracy villa swimming pool and wondered if there was a possibility of filling it with coffee.

“Can we try again?”

Virgil grunted at the director. Bet he had had his coffee. Bet he was allowed to access that wondrous machine up so high on that shelf. Bet he hadn’t given one thought to how his precious Tracys might feel about the matter.

Yeah, Virgil Tracy was not in a very good mood at all.

The director stood up from the set and stepped away to be half hidden by the camera again.

Virgil lowered Two’s hatch and climbed aboard. All prepared to launch Two with a smile.

He grit his teeth.

Backing her up into her hangar again, he closed the cliff face and waited for the call.

“Action!”

Practised fingers went through their motions and Two cruised out onto her runway under the fake sunlight.

A poke at a control and the palm trees moved aside...not quite the way they did at home, but well enough...and Two taxied towards her ramp.

“Cut!”

Oh, for the love of...what now?!

“Virgil, you are grinding your teeth. I would say we could mute it in post, but you look like you want to kill someone. You’re the valiant hero, the gentle giant, not Hannibal Lecter daydreaming about dinner!” Virgil stared up at him through the windows. Usually, Virgil would be mortified, but it was barely past 7am, he had been up late for a real rescue last night, hadn’t slept well, and there was no damned coffee!

The director stared at him a moment longer before throwing up his hands. “Okay, you know what? Take fifteen, go find some coffee, for all our sakes.” He ended that with a glare and turned away calling the crew to a halt.

Virgil sat there staring at the replica of his ‘bird’s controls. He had been in the real thing last night. Saved sixteen lives.

He was just tired and not really being fair to anyone, including himself.

He just wanted coffee. Please, I just need coffee.

If his inner voice sounded like a dehydrated man in a desert pleading for water, it was just being honest.

The thing was that the crew had coffee. In that machine on the shelf. Sure, the cup was bigger than he was, but it might be just enough to put his brain to rights.

But he couldn’t reach the button to activate it. In fact, the one time he had tried, some smart ass on set had filmed him jumping up, trying to reach it. It had made the rounds until it hit Gordon, who then promptly made sure the rest of the world had the opportunity to enjoy laughing at his brother.

But then Gordon still didn’t know who poured dye in his pool...while he was in it.

The full body make-up his brother had to wear that day to hide the purple was almost worth it.

But coffee...god, he needed coffee. If only he could extend his reach. If only he could grip the cup...

Virgil blinked.

The solution was obvious. Oh my god. He felt like kicking himself for not thinking of it before. You idiot!

There was one piece of equipment he had brought on set that wasn’t fake.

It was here for two reasons. The first was that it was built for Virgil, only he could wear it and it was cheaper to just wear the real thing than to build a poorly functional duplicate. Secondly, Virgil preferred to have one on hand as often as possible, just in case, and since they had been spending so much time in Aotearoa on set, he had stashed one with the lead model maker for safe keeping.

He exited the fake Two and leapt out onto the runway. The fact that one of the set hands saw him and immediately made herself scarce was kind of depressing. He had been a grumpy bear this morning.

But that was all about to be solved.

He eyed the director and, making sure the man wasn’t looking, grabbed one of the discarded thimble-sized coffee cups and slipped away towards prop storage.

It was a hike and he had to dodge wheels and staff who didn’t see him. Those who did all immediately looked at their watches and, just like the set hand earlier, hurried out of his sight.

Maybe he was beginning to get a reputation.

Serve them right for not giving him coffee!

He found his helmet and his exosuit exactly where he expected them to be. Some neurotic librarian type had attached a huge name tag with a barcode onto it.

Virgil’s shoulder mounted laser took care of that.

It was almost comforting to slide on the equipment. The surety of its strength settling on his shoulders, its weight snug at his hips and ankles.

He sighed.

Of course, that one moment of relaxation was interrupted by Steven, the lead model maker, suddenly bursting into the room.

“I don’t know, Scott. That sounds kind of dangerous. The real Thunderbird One might be able to handle you surfing it, but I’m not too sure of the mockups.”

“I’ll talk to Brains. We’ll make it happen.”

“Why are you feeling the need to surf on the outside anyway?”

“Because it looks cool?” Scott cleared his throat. “Ah, because that is what happened during the incident we are portraying and accuracy is important.”

Virgil hunched down behind a scarily accurate model of that moon buggy Scott was always raving about. He dared not move because the wheeze of the suit’s hydraulics was far too familiar a sound to hide from his brother.

But then, since Scott was buzzing around at Steven’s eye height thanks to one of his jetpacks, his older brother really didn’t have a single leg to stand on.

Mostly because he apparently didn’t need them.

Virgil found himself grinding his teeth again.

He really needed coffee.

“You actually surfed on the outside of Thunderbird One?”

“Well, yeah.”

“That is so cool, man.”

“That’s what I said!”

Steven reached past Virgil’s hiding spot and picked up one of the fake explorer pods and Virgil remembered that he was supposed to clamber up the side of an equally fake mountain later in the morning.

Hell, coffee was mandatory.

Fortunately, Steven appeared to have everything he needed and both he and Scott left almost immediately after that, Scott coming as close to raving as Virgil had ever heard him, babbling about surfing on One.

Sounded about right. Scott and Alan might as well have been twins if it wasn’t for their age difference.

They both gave Virgil grey hair.

But then so did Gordon.

John was easier, cool and calm and sensible most of the time. But that just meant that when he did slide off the rails, he did a proper job of it, likely taking most of them with him.

Hmmm, must remember to grab some more hair dye on the way home tonight.

With the coast clear, he secured his thimble cup to his suit and made a run for it.

He made it across the floor to the blessed coffee machine without interruption this time, though he had to admit, his suit was much noisier than he had realised. But a good percentage of the crew were focused on that scene Scott was filming.

He could still hear his brother declaring that he knew his stunts better than any stunt man.

Virgil had to agree. If anyone was capable of surfing Thunderbird One, it was Scott.

The idiot.

Now, not only was he doing stupid stunts to save people, but now just to show off.

Virgil had a good mind to kick his ass. He was as bad as Alan.

No, correction. Alan wasn’t that stupid.

Virgil found himself taking a step in his big brother’s direction and it was only the wheeze of his suit that made him realise exactly what he was doing.

Coffee, goddamnit, he needed coffee!

Without a second thought, he fired a grapple line up to the bench top and was gratified it secured with a thunk. Pulling himself up with the right equipment was so much more efficient than the equivalent pseudo rock climbing he had had to do last time.

Before he knew it, he was up there standing next to the huge dispenser of coffee. He gazed up at it for a moment and blessed its existence.

But unfortunately, Sadie who had been kind enough to set it up for him last time wasn’t available.

Hell, if his assistant hadn’t been called away at the last minute, he would have gotten his coffee that day. As it was, the director had found out about the incident when Virgil arrived late on set and had given Sadie a dressing down that involved images of Tracy brothers falling into giant vats of coffee and being boiled alive.

As if Virgil would be that stupid.

Boiling himself would be such a waste of good coffee.

But there were no more attempts at giant coffees for Virgil Tracy from that point on. It was banned.

So, this time, he had to set it up himself.

He was consequently reassured that yes, he was really good with his tools. The suit hummed in appreciation as he made it do what he needed it to do and despite dropping coffee granules all over himself at one point – he was considering eating them off the counter, but then considered that a caffeine overdose wasn’t wise – he set up the machine ready to dispense some black heaven.

The teacup he had used last time had been pushed away to one side, but his exosuit made it a simple job to manipulate it into position so he could stand on it.

With the extension of his claw, he easily reached up and hit the green button.

It was a pleasure just to hear the coffee machine start up.

He was seriously tempted to take off his helmet and breathe in the gloriousness that was the scent of brewing coffee, but he still had to get that coffee cup into a position from which it would be safe for him to drink.

He may be coffee and sleep deprived but he wasn’t an idiot.

So, he stood there watching the coffee machine make the drink of the gods.

It was a little mesmerising.

And then the process was complete. The machinery quietened and the coffee cup sat waiting for him.

He didn’t hesitate.

It took both claws and a secure grapple to the shelf above the bench for stability, but he manoeuvred the cup down onto the bench top.

Steam fogged up his helmet as he looked down from atop the upturned teacup, so finally, he broke the seals and lifted it off his head.

Oh.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

He almost melted on the spot.

The smell was heady, intoxicating. Drowning in the dark liquid no longer seemed a bad idea.

He leant over a little further.

Ohhhhhhhhhh, it was just too good.

“Virgil! What the hell do you think you are doing?!”

It was Scott’s voice. Unmistakeable.

He would want to take away his coffee.

No.

No!

Not his precious coffee!

His brother flew up onto the bench and alighted without a sound. “Virgil!”

Virgil hissed at him. “Go away.”

That earned him a worried frown. “That’s not safe.”

Screw safe, he wanted coffee. He unhooked his thimble cup from his waist and reaching down, scooped up some blessed, steaming liquid manna.

It was hot.

It was delicious.

He poured it down his throat.

Oh, god, yessssss.

Another scoop and he sculled some more. His tongue scalded a little, but he didn’t care.

More.

More.

He was guzzling like a dying man at water filled oasis.

“Virgil?”

“Virgil!”

And suddenly the coffee cup disappeared.

No, no, no, no, no, no!

He over balanced and would have fallen if it wasn’t for a sudden thunk of a grapple on the back of his suit.

He looked up to find Scott securing his grapple line to a coffee cup hook underneath the overhead shelf as Virgil teetered on the edge of his teacup, barely prevented from falling by the cable’s connection to his suit.

And there was no more coffee.

No.

Please.

“I need coffee.”

Scott floated down to Virgil’s eye level and Virgil realised exactly who had taken the coffee cup away.

The director was standing behind his big brother.

Virgil was in so much shit.

Damnit.

“I just want coffee.”

Scott was frowning at him. “Are you okay, Virgil?”

“DO I LOOK OKAY?!”

Um, that may have come out a little bit louder than intended. But then he was hanging partly suspended from an empty coffee cup hook.

Much quieter. “I just need coffee.”

Scott’s eyes were wide. “I think you’ve had enough coffee.”

No, he needed more. Buckets more. “Please, Scott.”

“Uh, no. We’re going home.”

Virgil blinked. “What?”

But Scott had turned away and was talking quietly to the director.

Virgil caught a glimpse of something shiny out the corner of his eye and turned to find a single drop of deep brown gold suspended from the coffee dispenser.

Coffee!

Without thought he leapt for it.

Perhaps it was a good thing that Scott actually did think, because a yank on that grapple line probably prevented Virgil from being scalded.

“What the hell, Virg?!”

He blinked as he hung fully suspended by his brother’s grapple line, swinging slowly back and forth, one very unhappy commander glaring at him.

Umm, yeah, maybe that was taking it a step too far.

Scott’s words were firm. “Shed the suit and go and sit in the car.”

“Sco-“

“Now.” Blue fire lasered him where he hung.

Virgil gave in with a single nod.

Scott lowered him to the bench top and Virgil dropped the suit with a clatter. He stomped off in a huff as Sadie was called over the PA system to come and assist him.

He only wanted a decent coffee, for crying out loud.

After all, Gordon did get that massive hot dog the other day, and John had slept in his bagel, for goodness sake.

Why couldn’t he have his coffee?

It just wasn’t fair.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[roseofithaca]

Does This Remind You Of Anything?

Consider this my Halloween whump drabble...My hallowhump drabble, if you will! Inspired by this post (which is also your trigger warning) so blame @cecret-with-c.

Shawn invites Eleanor to have dinner in TBP.

The last thing Eleanor expected when she was dragged from the portal in Bad Place HQ and separated from her friends was to be lead to a fancy dining hall. She’s made more than a few attempts to run only to be quickly grabbed by the demon heavies at every corner, to the point she decides just to follow Bad Janet to her fate.

The air chills her through her pink sweater that’s torn at the sleeve by now, even though there doesn’t seem to be any windows. 

“Ugh, look at you. Did you just crawl out of your mom’s hedge? Let’s get you cleaned up and looking good for the Boss.” Her obnoxious guide sneers at her before waving her hand.

Another blast of cold hits Eleanor as she loses her sweater and pants, replaced with the black dress she had been wearing the night before. Their final night.

She tries not to tremble, refusing to show weakness to the bitch next to her.

“Wow! You really can’t pull that off, can you, talk about washed out. Oh well, it’ll have to do.”

Eleanor just rolls her eyes. Do they really expect trash talk to have any effect on her self-esteem? No words from a stupid Bad Janet are gonna knock her confidence. They’ll have to try better than that.

The door on the other side of the room opens. Shawn steps in, wearing a suit to match Eleanor’s dress.

She clenches her fists.

“Ah. Miss. Shellstrop. How lovely of you to join me for dinner. Please, take a seat.” He says, cordially. 

She doesn’t buy it for a moment; “Cut the ‘polite evil villain’ crap, man. You wanna get on with torturing me old-school then do it. Don’t try this underhanded, psycho stuff when it isn’t what you’re into. Only Michael came anywhere close to being good at that and you just set him up to fail.”

“Now, now...Is it difficult to believe that all I want is to have a celebratory dinner with the leader of my competition after such an impressive feat?” Shawn asks, his hands up.

“Yes.”

“All right, I tried.” He shrugs; “Still, you might as well enjoy your last good meal, as the only thing you’re gonna be eating from now on will be wriggling or coated in acid. You’ve earned that much.”

“I’m not hungry.” Eleanor says, steeling herself for the worst; “Why just me? Where’s my friends? And Michael, what have you done with him? Is he being retired?!”

Shawn gives a chuckle and pulls his chair out to sit down; “Oh, don’t worry. I wouldn’t have Michael retired without planning the spectical he deserves, which takes a while to prepare. Those flaming ladles are not quick to heat up. I promise you, Eleanor, our friend Michael will be joining us very soon.”

No retirement yet. Her heart leaps with relief. That meant there might still be time. Time for her and Michael to try to escape together. They don’t have their Janet this time, her marble was sent back to the warehouse for rebooting. They’ll have to find her after they’ve managed to get the others and escape. Which they will. No way is she giving up yet, even if they did fail the experiment, even if they have no chance of getting to the Good Place anymore. As Michael said, they just need their one thousand and second idea, whatever that is.

She decides to play ball and takes a seat, glad there’s no whoopee cushion covered in needles waiting for her to sit on. 

Bad Janet, now wearing a slutty waitress outfit, brings out a silver plate with a cover on top, placing it before her, while an identical Bad Janet gives the same to Shawn at the other end of the long table.

Eleanor tenses with unease. 

“So whose head am I gonna find underneath then? I’ve already seen Hannibal, dude.” She tries to deflect.

Shawn smiles and waves his hand again.

The Bad Janets remove the coverings. The smell hits Eleanor’s nostrils before her eyes can take in what’s on her plate, served up in an enticing presentation.

“Seafood platter? Your favorite, I believe. As I said, it is intended to be a consolation prize.” Shawn tells her.

It feels too good for her to believe. So she doesn’t.

But, fuck, she is hungry...

“Are the shrimp gonna start eating me from inside, what am I looking at here?” Just tell her. Stop the preamble. 

“Oh no. You have my word. That might not count for much but I assure you, it will not harm you to eat. But if you truly insist, I can have it taken away.”

She should say so. Get rid of it. If she’s never gonna eat properly again then...

Oh, damn it. She’s too weak.

Eleanor picks up her fork and spears one of the pieces of fried shrimp before putting it into her mouth...Oh. Oh, holy fuck, that is good. It sends her eyes rolling back and way too much blood rushing towards her thighs as she has to eat another, and another.

When in Hell, right? If criminals on Death Row get to enjoy their last meal then why not her? 

“I knew you would like it.” She ignores her lame ass host over her food, not letting him spoil the final shred of pleasure she might have in her existence; “How’s the calamari?”

Eleanor gives a non-committal hum after swallowing a breaded piece.

“Well done and not too spongy, right?” Shawn describes; “That’s what’s good about fire squids. They’re already as cooked as they can be.”

She freezes.

“Truly the most difficult part is the slicing. It’s quite a challenge to get such tiny cuts from something six thousand feet tall, as well as washing off most of the juice while leaving just enough to add to the flavour.”

Eleanor’s hands fly up to her mouth as she starts to shake.

“And our dear Michael sure does love to squirm when he’s terrified, doesn’t he.”

Her stomach heaves as she tries to choke up what’s already sliding down her throat, tears of horror pricking at her eyes.

The Bad Janets are snickering from the shadows.

Eleanor pushes her chair back and grips the table, glaring across at Shawn who is already shoving pieces of his own dinner into his mouth. Possibly, very likely, pieces of his former employee turned rival. Oh God. Oh no, no, no!

“What?” Her companion tilts his head; “I told you he’d be joining us soon.”

Shawn starts to chuckle, maniacally, watching Eleanor fall to her knees and sob through her violent retching.

Fuck! Fuck, no, please, no, no!

-

-

-

-

She wakes with a fearsome gasp for air, followed by screaming and clawing at her throat, trying to force up something from her empty stomach. 

It’s not until a pair of hands grab at her wrists to keep her still that the tears of distress fall down her cheeks, her mind still convinced that the horror she witnessed, that she consumed, truly happened. It’s not until she recognises the face in front of her and the voice trying to cut through the disturbed fog in her half-asleep brain that she can connect the dots to realise it can’t have been real.

If it was real when Michael wouldn’t be holding her. He wouldn’t be right here.

“Hey, hey...It’s okay. It’s okay, look at me, Eleanor.” His palm is against her cheek, bringing her focus directly on him, on his concerned gaze, “Just a bad dream, okay? You passed out on the desk there, I was just about to move you to the couch.”

She blinks, rapidly, looking around to check. No hauntingly large dining room. No Bad Janets. It’s just the office. Their office. With its windows looking out to the night sky and their neighbourhood. 

She reaches out to grab at his jacket.

“We...It’s not over yet? W-we didn’t lose?” 

Michael’s eyes widen; “Boy, I sure hope not or that would suck! It would be kind of a deck move for Janet or the Judge to not let us know we missed the deadline, huh.” he forces a smile and strokes her face, wiping a stray tear; “We’ve still got a few months to go, Eleanor. It’s okay. We haven’t lost yet, I swear.”

Her breathing is still short and stilted from the fear. She feels her hands up Michael’s chest, his shoulders, to his face. Making sure he’s all there.

Not...sliced and diced.

“Everyone’s safe, right? We’re all good? And you....” She takes a sniff and reaches to take his hands from her face to hold them in front of her, giving them a firm squeeze to double check; “...You’re here. You’re okay? He didn’t...Oh, fork, Michael...!”

Her voice breaks. She can’t begin to explain how much the stupid nightmare has managed to shake her up. How forking terrified she felt at the thought of losing...

Losing everyone...

“C’mere. Let me reclaim the chair for a sec, yeah?” He gently tugs her up so he can slide in to sit down on the leather seat before pulling her back onto his knee. 

Eleanor curls against him, still shaking like a leaf, fingers clinging onto his shirt as she rests her leaking face against his chest.

“I thought we lost.” She confesses; “I thought I...lost you, bud...”

She feels Michael’s fingers move up to the back of her hair, clutching her close. She knows he’s probably wishing that he could promise her that won’t happen. But there’s no way of being sure he could keep that to her. He’s very careful not to lie to any of them after what happened last time. Complete trust and honesty going forward.

“Shh, just a bad dream. We’ll try our best to make sure it doesn’t become reality, right?” It’s the best he can do, sliding his arm around her back to keep her close.

She nods; “R-right...We’ll sort out Brent and then we should be fine. Damn it, I’m not letting the Bad Place get any of us. I’m not letting you get retired, ever!”

“That is very good to know, thank you.” She almost hears his smile.

Eleanor snakes her arms around his sides and hugs him tighter than she’s hugged anyone before.

“And I don’t care how good you taste, I’m not letting you get deep-friend and served with shrimp.”

That one probably didn’t bring a smile and she feels his hand still for a few seconds between stroking her hair. Thank fork that demons don’t sleep or else she probably would have influenced him to have the same nightmare.

One thing is for sure. She won’t be eating seafood again anytime soon. 

[tippitv]

RECAP: Supernatural 15.03 “The Rupture”

Watching episode three and I finally understand the warding logistics better now. Note that just because I understand it better doesn’t mean I think it makes any kind of sense.

So it seems the “mile wide salt circle” encompasses both the town and the cemetery. Like the entire town and entire cemetery and the space in between them is somehow less than a mile wide as seen in the shitty map I made in MS paint last week.  

This is poppycock of course. It’s also bizarre that somehow all these demons and ghosts didn’t manage to spread any further out than that in the hours in took the Winchesters et al to evacuate the town and for Belphegor to perform the spell.

I’m so distracted by this that it’s hard for me to suspend my disbelief.

Rowena tries to reinforce the warding but there are too many ghosts attacking it. More ghosts keep spewing out of the ground. I think it’s weird that Hell is an actual physical place somewhere under the Earth’s crust while Heaven seems to be some kind of otherworldly dimension that looks like an Apple store.

Rowena’s feeling very defeated. Ruth Connell is doing a much better job than the crummy ghosts we've seen so far would seem to warrant. Her acting makes them seem scary and the situation desperate, whereas the writing for the actual ghost characters is...meh. Dean wants to go fight the ghosts but like… there’s really nothing to be done. Shooting them with iron or rock salt only works for a few minutes at most. To make any dent, you'd need all the salt in the Hannibal fandom after NBC canceled it. Shout out to my Fannibals!

I still think somebody needs to be thinking about contacting Billie. Reapers take souls to their great reward or their eternal punishment, I feel like they’d have some useful input. Plus I just want to see Billie again because Lisa Berry is dreamy.

Also Belphegor is such a weaselly jerk about the whole thing. I won't miss that guy. He's the Martin Shkrelli of demons. Shout out to everyone who hates jacked up pharmaceutical prices!

Sam says they're out of ideas. That's because y'all haven't sat around reading books out loud to each other for half an episode! 

Jack mentions something called "Lilith's Crook." Ah, Martin Shkrelli again. He has to explain it's that curved stick thing shepherds use while everyone is being ignorant. "Thing's actually more of a horn," he says. She designed it to control demons on Earth while she was in Hell. You'd think that kind of thing would've come up when Lilith was topside but no! Also there really should've been a call back to that. "You know Lilith... you killed her to let Lucifer out?" That kind of thing.

They work out a plan for Belph to summon the demons and ghosts back to Hell and the Rowena can heal the big spewing fistula in the earth. She wants Sam to assist her, which makes me

Dean coolly volunteers Castiel to accompany Belph. "You've been to Hell before." Cas should've been like, "Yeah to grip your ass tight and raise it from Perdition!" Also how's he supposed to get out again?

Aw jeez here's Ketch in his hospital room. I hope the only reason he's in this episode is to die. The nurse doesn't want to clear him for discharge so a pretty doctor walks in and kills her with a telekinetic neck snap. And that's why we have a nursing shortage in this country! Oh the doctor is Ardat, the demon who hired Ketch to kill Belph.

Fisticuffs ensue even though she could just pin him in place with demonic power. When he refuses to give up the Winchesters, she rips out his heart and shows it to him. He Pikachu faces at her.

I mean, did she really need to ask him? Wouldn't the most likely place be the mile-wide anti-ghost dome? She texts Dean pretending to be Ketch.

Belphegor goads Castiel about his friends sacrificing him, so Cas pushes him down into the ghost fistula. Lol. It doesn't shut him up for long, though. As they wander around Hell, Belph continues to sow the seeds of doubt. Anyway, opening the chest that contains the Doohickey of the Week requires Castiel to sing an Enochian song of praise, but we cut away on the third note. BOO.

Also, having now met Lucifer the whiny petulant manbaby, it's really hard to understand why Lilith or anyone would be so devout for so long. Maybe it's because he was locked in the cage so they didn't actually experience a lot of his pouting. It's all I can think of.

Before Castiel can hand over the Doohickey, Ardat knocks him out of the way. She looks like Joanna Gaines. Maybe she IS Joanna Gaines!

Castiel and Ardat fight. She tries to warn him about Belphegor, but he pops up behind her and kills her with Cas's fallen angel blade. Now we'll never know what she was gonna say! I bet he ends up just blabbing it out himself in the time-honored tradition of villains talking too much.

Indeed, he goes on about how the crook/horn is actually a leash/siphon. This thing is the Swiss Army knife of Doohickeys. He's going to blow the horn and suck all the demons and ghosts into himself to gain their powers. "I'll be a god!"

So while Belph is blowing and sucking, Sam and Rowena and Dean are dirtside working the spell. Ghosts are zooming back down the hole like the Indiana Jones Ark of the Covenant scene in reverse. Castiel tackles Belph and punches him in the face a lot which seems like the equivalent of flicking a dandelion at a law mower to stop it.

Improbably, it hurts jazzed-up Belphegor enough that he pretends to be Jack again to get Cas to stop beating him. Castiel screws up all his angel power and somehow kills him even though there's a buttload of evil spirits in him. Jack's empty body burns like a Thanksgiving turkey left on broil all day.

The ground starts sealing up but something's wrong. Rowena uses a knife to gouge out a "resurrection sachet" she's been keeping buried under her skin. It's why she came back after Lucifer killed her, if you'll recall. It takes Sam a minute to catch on that she intends to sacrifice herself in one final spell. He has to be the one to kill her because prophecy and she can't bring herself to to it for a lot of good reasons.

Now, I don't understand here. She says she's going to absorb all the demons and ghosts, throw herself into Hell, and they'll be trapped. But... didn't Belphegor absorb them? Or a lot of them? I hate that Ruth is doing such a great job and this just feels like forced drama.

Speaking of forced drama. Castiel returns to the surface and tells Dean he killed Belphegor. This could be cleared up with a five second explanation but he makes a lot of pained faces while Dean berates him for ruining their one chance. Forced drama.

Sam reluctantly stabs her in the lower belly... you know, in the uterus area... and she becomes a vessel... with her uterus absorbing all the evil...

"Goodbye boys," she says as she Last of the Mohicans throws herself into the abyss.

Well, it's better than Charlie's death but I still don't like it.

All the surviving team members return to the bunker for the denouement. Sam is taking things pretty hard, which is to be expected, so Dean goes to check on him. "God threw one last apocalypse at us and we beat it," he says to baby bro. Oh honey.

Anyway we're all pretty sure Rowena's going to be running Hell now, right? RIGHT??

Now we come to the part where Dean and Castiel act out a bad soap opera scene. It's just a thin reason to get them to break up for a while. Maybe in the final season they couldn't work Misha into the budget for every episode or maybe the writers couldn't think of more for Castiel to do. So he's gotta go off and it couldn't just be because "you know my surrogate son just died and I need time." 

No it's gotta be all "you always screw up our plans!" and "you don't trust me!" and "are you hearing that romantically sad cello music or is it just me?" and "it's not just you but now I must leave GOOD BYE!"

Onward and upward, readers! Stay tuned for the next recap.

In the meantime, please reblog if you enjoyed this recap and drop by my Ko-Fi tip Jar if you're able. Henry Hound and I are perpetually trying to make ends meet and appreciate your help!

https://ko-fi.com/A4017DA

[eldbitch-horror]

Lost Aggressive Youth: Chapter 2

A commission for @thisismydesignhannibal which should have been done long ago. thank you for your patience! 

Its a rocky start, a violent beginning. This only intrigues Hannibal further.

The young teens find common ground in the oddest of things.

also can be read here on ao3, comments and kudos are more than welcome! 

By now, Will’s ice cream had dribbled down all over his hand, and he was quickly licking it up. “Where are we going?” He asked between licks. Hannibal realized that Will would stick out like a sore thumb in his house.

“My house, if you don’t mind. We have a large backyard, and the woods are divine.” Will, of course, didn’t miss the fact that Hannibal was trying to impress him, but he nodded all the same. It really did sound nice, and Hannibal seemed alright.

Arriving at the estate, Will’s eyes went large. It was all so… fancy . The yard was gated, the word “ Lecter ” donned it with large gold letters.  Hannibal had to press a button and announce his arrival to get in. The driveway was paved in a large loop so vehicles could drive right up to the door. He assumed this was so the Lecters and their guests didn’t have to walk. The grass was immaculately kept, and there were hedges in the shape of various animals. No dogs, but there was a cool lion. The house itself was large, victorian. Like the old farm houses back home. Except much bigger. It was missing a porch, a heinous crime. Though there was a balcony on the third floor.

“How many people live here?”  It had to be at least two families. There was no other explanation for a house this big. Ivy crawled up the sides, but it was obviously well kept and for aesthetics.

“My parents and I.” Hannibal stated simply, and looked to Will with a soft smile, “I know it seems excessive.” He noted.

“Excessive? It’s fucking insane!” Just one family? What a waste of space. And with winters it had to be a hell of a thing to heat. “Goddamn, why so much?”

Hannibal’s mouth hung agape for a moment at such language, but soon clamped it shut, “My parents were, and are, very prominent people. That is why.” His voice held a tone of irritation at Will’s words. He didn’t ask to be born here.

“Still, lots of people could use this.” Will lived in a small community that took care of each other. There was really no such thing as a single family home unless you were lucky. It was how people got by. Together, as a whole unit. A village of urban proportions. Hannibal shook off the irritation, and let out a long sigh.

“Where did you grow up?” Hannibal asked after just a moment of thought. It was only fair. Especially since he was being judgemental. William was quiet for a moment, wondering if he should tell him one of the many stories he told strangers who asked where he lived, or where his mommy was. He also thought about just ignoring the question. Though Hannibal didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would let that fly. So he decided to tell a half truth.

“Little place in Louisiana. Not near as big as this. We live good though, and that’s why we can travel.” He fibbed, “We just like to be free, y’know? It’s real nice because it’s just me and daddy, so we get to do whatever we want!” Hannibal absorbed this information. He could smell a lie from a mile away. Quite literally. Adrenaline had a sour, feral smell, and he caught a strong whiff of Will’s. Hannibal’s lips turned down in a frown at that,

“Interesting, I’ve been to New Orleans before, it was quite dirty.” He noted, deciding not to confront Will just yet. However he would give him a little something to be pissed at for the time being. Wills response was a scowl, muddled by ice cream sticking to his cheeks.

“It ain’t fuckin dirty!” He snarled, and Hannibal actually recoiled. He wasn’t expecting that reaction. What a feral boy indeed. “It’s a nice place! Nicer than this place!” Of course that wasn’t the truth. Their little trailer was hardly anything at all. Will threw a fist, and he popped Hannibal right square in the nose. He staggered back from it, and cupped his face with watering eyes. Will just stood there, perhaps in a bit of shock for what he did. He then dropped what was left of his drippy ice cream and ran back the way he came. Hannibal tried to call for him, but it was a faint echo as Will tore back to their dumpy home.

Will had long finished crying by the time he got home, but the dirt smudges gave it away. Breathlessly he called to his father that he was home. There was no reply, so he went into the kitchen for something to eat. The smell of mildew was stronger in the kitchen, most likely due to the drip under the sink. It was surface cleaned at least, but still dingy and smoke stained. The fridge revealed nothing but a foul smell. Something had been left behind last year, and it hadn’t fared well. He quickly disposed of it, and gave up on finding food. It was all still on the boat. With a sound of defeat he sank onto the couch. Now he was not only lonely, but hungry too. His knuckles felt a bit sore as well.

A loud noise made Will jump from the nap he didn’t realize he was taking. It was the door swinging open. “William, come help me.” His father’s familiar voice soothed him, and he hopped up to help despite still feeling blurry.

A friend of his dad’s had let him use his truck to haul their stuff over to the house. Will helped move their meager belongings into the house, especially excited about the food he was putting in the fridge.

“Goddamn boy, is that smell you?” His father asked, a crooked grin spreading his lips. Will smiled shyly,

“No daddy, somethin’ got left in the fridge.” He explained, and his dad just grunted in response to that. It didn’t take long to finish unpacking. The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, and Will went to see if he could get some TV channels to come in.

Morning came all too soon. Will had stayed up the night before watching TV long after his father had retired for the night. He was now just pouring himself cereal like a zombie. Daddy had left for work before the sun risen, and now it was nearly noon. Just as he was about to take a big ol mouth full of cocoa pebbles, there was a knock at the door that made him jump. He huffed, and got up to answer it. Probably one of his dad’s friends hoping to catch him. It was quite the shock to see Hannibal standing there. His clothes were still fancy, but now his pants were replaced with shorts. Still a lot of layers despite the humidity. Will blocked the sun from his eyes as he opened the door,

“What do you want?” Hannibal’s nose had a small split in it, but it didn’t seem to be broken. His chin retracted ever so slightly at such a rude greeting,

“Why did you hit me?” Will nervously looked around to make sure no one else was there to jump him. Although there were no immediate signs, he didn’t completely relax.

“You were mean. I get upset easily.” Was the best he could do to explain. Temper ran in the family. Hannibal seemed displeased with that explanation, but he nodded.

“Don’t do it again.” He ordered, which of course made Will bristle. ‘ You aint the boss of me.’  He growled inwardly, but nodded. “May I come in?” Will shuffled out of the way, grimacing. His house was disgusting compared to the pristine conditions Hannibal was accustomed to. That was reflected by the look on Hannibal’s face as he entered the home. Hannibal’s nose wrinkled as if he smelled something, perhaps it was the mildew or whatever had lived in the fridge while they had been gone. Whatever it was, Will’s hackles were up.

“Want something to drink?” Of course Hannibal wanted to refuse that offer, but knew better. This was one feral pup he had in front of him.

“Water, please.” was his simple reply. Will thought about spitting in it. He didn’t want Hannibal to be so keen on him. Better Hannibal  just didn’t like him so he could stay at the boatyard with his daddy. Yet here this prudish person sat, now the one out of place. He brought him the water, and Hannibal took it. The younger of them didn’t miss that he didn’t even take an actual drink. He pressed it to his lips, but surely the water was not pristine enough for his pallette.

The small talk was painfully forced as they sipped their water and Hannibal surveyed the house with detest. Finally Will let out a loud huff,

“Why the fuck are you still here?!” It was an accusing statement, and Hannibal’s chin tucked like a pissy cat.

“I don’t know, truly. You interest me. You’re feral.” He decided to leave out the part that he thought Will smelled nice.

“You’re such a judgemental ass. Go back to your hoity toity shit.” he demanded, but all Hannibal did was just stare at him.

“No, I don’t want to do that.” This made Will want to punch him in the face again. He didn’t understand this boy. He didn’t want to understand him. Plus he was a bossy imbecile.

Silence dominated the conversation for nearly a half hour, before Hannibal finally spoke just to break the humid silence,

“What do you do around here?” The sudden speech made Will jump just a bit.

“Watch tv… Go fishing, and sometimes I play in the woods.” The last bit sounded a lot less boring than the other two options to Hannibal.

“What do you do in the woods?” Will wasn’t sure he wanted to reveal this part of him to the prudish boy, but he relented.

“Follow me, and I’ll show ya.” He then ran out the door, and down the path into the woods. Hannibal quickly got up and followed, admittedly struggling to keep up with the limber cub. Will led them deep into the woods, eventually straying off the beaten path, down a deer trail. Hannibal’s bare legs  were not enjoying the branches and occasional thorns that struck it. His shoes were not doing much better. It was a wonder how Will could navigate with no shoes at all.

After a few minutes, Will was back on another trail. Will found himself rather impressed that Hannibal was keeping up, and so easily too. His nice clothing seemed to be all sorts of busted up though. However, Will figured he probably had plenty of those anyways.

It was just another moment and they broke out into a small clearing in the dense trees. The sun still didn’t reach down, and the air smelled damp and earthy. Bones littered the forest floor. Not in random scattered formation, like an animal would leave. No, this was neatly organized. Skulls in their own spot, femurs in another, antlers hanging on tree branches.

“This is yours?” Hannibal was astonished, and it slipped through his cool facade, painted all over his face. Will was pleased, he figured it would be much harder to impress someone as fancy as Hannibal.

“Yea! I’ve collected them since we started comin’ here. So… four years.” He mused, and Hannibal began carefully examining each one. A tiny bird skull, a possum, in near entirety save for a few vertebra, quite a few deer bones, including: skulls, antlers, hooves, and other miscellaneous bones. It was truly a spectacular display, obviously Will had taken time to put this together. The intricacy was not lost to Hannibal,

“This is a truly impressive collection. What did you use to clean them?” Will puffed up at the compliment,

“Bleach we had sitting around. A lot of them I found mostly clean though. No cleanin’ required.” This of course made Hannibal a little more hesitant to touch some of the bones. However, Will didn’t seem to be diseased, so there wasn’t much worry for himself. He hoped. Delicate hands picked up a small bird skull,

“How do you preserve them?” Will rolled his eyes then,

“You know not everything has to be a process. A science. Nature gave me these, and eventually nature will take ‘em back.” It socked Hannibal much harder than the punch to his nose did. That was beautiful, poetry to his ears nearly.

“So what happens when she takes them back then?” He was intrigued more than ever. Pleased Will had a semi-morbid curiosity. Perhaps he could coax more of that out of him. There was a beast crawling beneath that boys skin that he wanted to capture.

“She gives me new ones. Everything dies eventually, and these woods seem to be a peaceful place for animals to come and slip away. This clearing is where I found that deer.” Will pointed to said deer bones with a grubby finger. Hannibal abandoned the bird skull to examine the deer. Near perfect, and arranged as if the animal had laid to rest right in that spot. Perhaps it had, but he didn’t want to sound stupid to Will.

The afternoon was spent discussing the different bones, current ones that occupied the hallowed ground, and those of the past. Hannibal inquired, poked, prodded, and discussed as much as he could. He liked to see the brightness Will’s eyes took while talking about these things. He even found himself playing stupid, just to hear Will talk more and ‘teach’ him about them.

Once the sun started to set, the woods cast deep shadows, hardly lit by the fading lights.

“I think I should get home now. Daddy will be home, I gotta make dinner.” Hannibal agreed, and followed Will out of the darkening space. At the treeline they parted ways. Both Hannibal and Will shared identical feelings. Loneliness that boiled up from their gut and into their chests, like bad heartburn.