“ ‘Not-entirely-bull’ Is Still Bull; The Most You’re Likely To Get Out Of It Are The Washed

This isn’t really that yellow but I took this picture and I’m 110% proud of it

"Your own fault for insisting on making this a cooking lesson...again. I know I can deal with me, myself, and I alone tonight; your track record isn't so great there."

// procrastination blogging // [runsonfear]: "What would you have had me do, exactly?"

“For starters you could have put oil on the pan so it wouldn’t stick.

Careless.”

Swallowtail. The youngster's diary. 1820.

Internet Archive

Butterfly, 1942. From the Budapest Municipal Photography Company archive.

drhanniballecter:

runsonfear:

drhanniballecter:

“Yo.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A very quality starter||open to all

Will brings his own wine glass to his lips; an unintentional mirroring.  "What kind of tricks?  Are we talking Benihana or…?”

The wine is white and not over-sweet; a light taste to cleanse the palate and compliment the meat.  That’s the extent of Will’s knowledge on the matter, but he appreciates it all the same.

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

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

Will had begun drinking at 8.  He’d left around 10.  So, about an hour he’d been out there, staring at the moon.  Well, in’t that some shit, he thought.

“If that’s what you call heavy.”  He tried to laugh, but he just sounded tired.  “Maybe.  Does a man always need a reason to drink?”

“It’s nearly 11:30, I was just about to head to bed myself when I spotted you outside.”  He watched Will drink, having not made himself a cup. He watched as Will’s adam’s apple moved with the hot fluid that ran down his throat, it made him feel at peace. 

“You’ve been drinking heavily.” Hannibal noted, “Any reason for the occasion?” 

Hannibal | 1x08 Fromage

“I wonder what Freud would think of that.”  Will thought Freud would probably assume impotence.  He considered saying so, but bit his cheek instead.  “I used to dream of...well, everything.  No meaning, no recognizable scenario.  Just an endless blur.”

“Now I just dream of work.”

// remember that time i made a will blog for the express purpose of rp-ing with your hannibal and then i completely forgot about it? haha yeah... // [runsonfear]: "Dream analysis is a load of bull and you know that."

“Not entirely. It was Freud who really developed and popularized dream analysis, and while he was wrong about…most everything, we can still use some of what he preached. Analyzing dreams can help to uncover what may be lying at the root of your problems.

Tell me about your dreams, Will.”