“Hey, Hey, Hey: What's Said In Bed Is Like What Happens In Vegas.”

Last week was #NPRWormWeek - and I made these worm trading cards to celebrate! Each feature’s a special worm species from the week’s stories.

Check out the full stories:

Could Worms In Your Gut Cure Your Allergies?

How Worm Warriors Are Beating An Unbeatable Worm

Should We Make Room For Worms On Our Dinner Plate?

Why The World Isn’t Close To Eradicating Guinea Worm

The Power Of Worm Poop

Think you know worms? Take our wormy quiz here to test your knowledge.

(Also - on Tuesday we raced worms. On Friday we ate worms)

A grin pulls itself across Will’s face.  He refocuses his attention on his silverware, shifting them in his hands and biting his lip to hide a laugh.

“Depends on the amount of alcohol in my system.”  It’s a weak feint, he knows.  “What arouses your interests, Doctor?”

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

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

374 moths of New Guinea (1918).

Watercolour by Marian Ellis Rowan (1848-1922).

Wikimedia.

Reblog this if you slept with my ex-wife Susan.

Trying to prove a point to my divorce lawyer.

Will allowed Hannibal to do this; let his hand be guided down and to the undoing of that top button.  He pressed his nail into the skin, feeling the dusting of chest hair there catch as he scratched his way down.  He let himself be guided back to the bowl, hands braced against Hannibal’s shoulders for balance.

“Then I’ll give you me.”  Will said, and felt the warmth of chocolate and Hannibal’s lips against his own.  He licked around and in Hannibal’s mouth, scraping his teeth against lips and tongue.  He brought a hand up to cup Hannibal’s neck and adjust the angle; he wanted to taste as much of this man as possible.  With his free hand, he undid the rest of the shirt buttons and ran his fingers through Hannibal’s chest hair, sometimes scratching down to feel that rhythmic catching of hair against nails.

Pulling away, breathing a bit labored, Will wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  His fingers lifted the hem of his shirt slightly, just enough to reveal some of his skin.  He paused and his mouth twitched into a smirk:

“What’s the magic word?”

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

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

Reblog this if you slept with my ex-wife Susan.

Trying to prove a point to my divorce lawyer.

-whistles- "Yeah, that is pretty bad. Christ, who did that number on you?"

@runsonfear said: “Hard to imagine you getting into many fights, Doctor. Just how bad was ‘very bad?’“ 

“I was unable to relieve myself for two weeks without the help of a catheter…if you must know.” 

Will curled his fingers into the blanket, the softness of it seeping through the numb in his skin.  He watched Hannibal’s back as his host got the coffee going.

He was beginning to feel bleary.  The whites in the kitchen were melding into blobs of light in his vision. “No.  What time is it?”  He took the coffee with a ‘thank you’ and took a sip.  Damn miraculous, that coffee.

Once inside, Hannibal found a throw blanket for Will and placed it around his shoulders before starting on coffee.

“Do you know how long you were standing out there for? Your hands look as though they were beginning to turn blue.”  He doesn’t ask Will how he takes his coffee, but took the liberty of adding a single teaspoon of sugar before handing it to him. 

That’s a lie; Hannibal Lecter is a punk bitch

Heard that Hannibal Lecter has an 8pack

That Hannibal Lecter is shredded.

Jesus.  Alright, how's this?: I'd like to know why you're so keen on fucking me.  Let's start there.

Alright then. What would you like to know?