#late contribution

[sonnynewts]

the deadly dancers🕺‼️

[wasabikatieart]

no expectations

Edit: Hey dang it’s been a while since I was on here and w o w has this gotten a lot of notes! I appreciate your support more then you could ever know! I did make a sticker of this, it’s on Redbubble. My user is KitKat615. So if you do want to buy, buy from that user cause someone else is selling my drawing(I’m just too cowardly to ask them to stop). So you can buy it if you want. And I know some people have asked so yes you can use this for whatever as long as I get credit somewhere:) Again thank you everyone for your support! Love y’all

[theonewithallthefangirling]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Librarians (TV 2014) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Eve Baird/Flynn Carsen Characters: Eve Baird, Flynn Carsen Additional Tags: Fluff, Humour, Established Relationship, The Librarians Shipathon 2017, Papa Bear is needed Summary:

Librarians are needed for family matters as well as Librarianing.

[itsybitsylemonsqueezy]

Hannibal Advent: 9

1.9 – Trou Normand

“What we are doing here is the right thing.”

The words squirmed down Will’s throat, cold and clammy, curling up in a sickening pit there. Hannibal’s platitudes felt as empty and untrue as syllogism in Catholic school or those awful, uncritical proverbs. The right thing, the right thing… if Will believed that, would he be here begging Hannibal to tell him it wasn’t true?

Will blocked out Hannibal’s false words and turned back from the window with a dead eye. He slid into his favorite chair and was gratified by its soft, death-like groan. At least the furniture had the decency to reflect his feelings in sympathy. Couldn’t say the same for Hannibal, honestly. He was being cagey and upright in the most annoyingly pragmatic way possible.

Will knew that, as ever, Hannibal’s heart was in the right place, but right now the last thing he wanted was to see sense. Right now all he wanted was to wallow in the feeling of how hopeless the whole world was, that nothing good could ever last.

He rubbed his face slowly, massaging the bags under his eyes. God, he needed a break, but it didn’t look like one was coming. He’d almost fallen asleep on the road and honestly he may not make it back home tonight, the weight of this revelation was pinning down his already sluggish mind. Maybe Hannibal had a hideaway bed in his office… no, surely not, Hannibal’s good taste would die of shame. Scratch that then.

Glass was touching his fingertips and Will blinked, looking down to see Hannibal nudging a generous glass of whiskey into his hand. Will took it numbly and downed half of it in one swallow. He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly against the merciless burn. Mmm, it was a damn fine blend, wouldn’t have taken Hannibal for a whiskey man though.

Will opened his eyes to see Hannibal was indeed not. The man was standing close by with his preferred drink of cognac in hand. In the low light, the liquid looked mahogany in color, almost black when Hannibal brought it to his lips to drink and it was cast in perfect shadow.

“Thank you,” Will grumbled belatedly. Hannibal gave him a courteous nod, forgiving the lapse in manners.

Will sighed, standing, even as he felt inertia pulling him back down, and trudged towards Hannibal’s drinks cabinet, “Any interest in getting black-out drunk with me tonight?” Will offered.

Hannibal’s lips smacked as he considered the proposition. “Not tonight, I think, but I’d be happy to furnish you with at least another round in company.” Will could hear him drawing closer as he rummaged around, looking for whatever bottle Hannibal had poured from.

“I can’t control your actions once you leave my office, but I would not recommend continuing drinking tonight at a local pub,” Hannibal continued, voice soft and near.

Will grunted, shrugging off Hannibal’s half-conciliation. He fully intended to get fall down drunk tonight after learning the poor girl he’d saved had taken after her father.

Will squeezed his eyes shut, angry at himself for even thinking that; Abigail was not her father, she would never be her father, it was wrong to think of her like that. But Will knew self-defense wounds and Nick Boyle was not an accidental death. He would never really know what happened that night and truthfully he didn’t really want to. But Abigail had… killed. And there was no escaping that knowledge.

Will was going to have to come to terms with that, but he wasn’t going to start tonight. So Hannibal was going to have to do a lot better than pretty words to talk him out of drinking himself to death.

Hannibal’s hand was at his shoulder again as he tentatively said, “I would offer you a place at my home tonight, instead, if that would comfort you.”

Will gave up his search and straightened, glancing critically over his shoulder at Hannibal.

“You shouldn’t be driving, Will. You look exhausted and alcohol will only depress you further. Please, I cannot allow you to go home alone,” Hannibal dropped his hand, looking dutifully chastened and politely worried for his safety.

Will didn’t respond, his thirst for whiskey growing more frantic under the tension in the room. At last he spotted it, on the mantle. Hannibal had left it out, knowing he’d want more. Will couldn’t help relaxing slightly and softening toward Hannibal. Hannibal was trying to help after all, he did care.

Will unscrewed the cap and poured a hefty quantity into his tumbler, sloshing against the sides. It was enough to make Hannibal worry, Will could feel him anxiously watching in case a drop was spilled. Will couldn’t really be bothered to care though, suddenly stopping his pour and knocking back the whole glass in one long, brutal drink.

It wasn’t enough. He kept pouring and kept drinking, leaning on the mantelpiece. There was no fire in the grate; it wasn’t nearly cold enough yet. Will couldn’t help but thrill at the irony, he came here seeking comfort and there was none to be found, no fire to warm his bones, no reassurance to cradle him.

Still, it was better here than being alone, sick with the knowledge of his revelation. Here, there was someone to stop him from going too far. Here, there was someone to worry over his self-destructive habits. He was grateful for that and for Hannibal’s careful distance. He could feel the man peering at him, tense, ready to jump at the first sign of his hand slipping on the bottle or his body losing control. Will thought about petulantly spilling onto the carpet, but it wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t Hannibal’s fault the truth was so ugly.

The bottle felt unexpectedly light in his hand and, looking at it blearily, Will realized he’d downed half of it in a few strokes of the clock. He reeled, gasping, and fell into the closest chair by the fire. Hannibal rushed over, an eye on the open bottle, but didn’t draw near enough to touch.

“You know what… the wors’ part is?” he slurred slightly, feeling a tad out of practice with his heavy drinking, “she couldn’ tell me.”

Hannibal sighed, sitting across from him and pulling his chair up close, “She was afraid of what you would think. That you would disapprove, like you are doing.”

“But she could confide in you?” Will glared at him, even as he swayed slightly, his eyes stayed angrily fixed on Hannibal.

“I was there,” Hannibal smiled apologetically.

“I jus’ want to help!” Will snapped, tears pricking his eyes, “I just want her to be hones’ with me… I can’t help if she won’ tell me…” He leaned forward, hands clasped hard around his glass. His vision blurred, the tears thick, but not falling.

“I know you do,” Hannibal replied soothingly, “I know you want to help Abigail. I do too.” He reached out and laid a hand over Will’s and for the first time all night, Hannibal’s touch didn’t make him feel sick. He was warm and reassuring, as if his big hands could lift all his problems off his shoulders and make them go away.

Will looked up at him again, the fat, wet tears rolling down his cheeks unheeded. “Why does she lie to me?” he whispered. If Will wasn’t sleep deprived and on a bit of a binge, he wouldn’t be saying these things. But right now every bruise felt like an open sore and every care held the weight of the world and he just wanted the little questions answered simply and neatly and put aside.

Hannibal’s face swam between the tears, full of concern and compassion, “You see her at her best, Will. She doesn’t want you to have to see her at her worst.” His warm thumb stroked over the back of his hand and somehow, this was making it all better. Even though it was only confirming what he feared the most, somehow having Hannibal to confide in made it all better.

Will swallowed thickly and wiped away his tears with his sleeve, then, reluctantly dislodging one of his hands, lifted his glass to his lips and drained the last few comforting, warming drops. He kept his other hand under Hannibal’s, his steady, warm touch an anchor in this emotional maelstrom.  

He set down the glass and leaned back dizzily in his chair, staring up at Hannibal’s darkened ceiling, hoping to see answers or the light or just a rewind button. There was none of that, only shadow.

Hannibal stood up and the absence of his touch made Will sit up too, for a moment a cold panic of loneliness came over him before he could register Hannibal’s proximity properly again.

“Let me call you a cab back to Virginia,” Hannibal sighed, stepping forward towards his telephone.

“No!” Will blurted out, starting to reach for him. Hannibal paused, turning back to him quizzically.

“I’ll go home with you… it’s way too long a drive back to Virginia,” Will yawned, “I’d fall asleep on the ride there and by the time I got there, I’d just have to come back anyway… take me home, Dr. Lecter,” Will sighed the last, barely audible.

Hannibal stepped back over and between slow blinks Will found his hand stretched towards him to help him up. Will took it and lurched forward. Hannibal quickly moved to support him before walking to his desk to collect his jacket and keys. Will watched him, cool, calm, collected. Unhurried by fell circumstance, untouched by grief.

If Hannibal had any struggles over this happening, Will could never tell. Except that Hannibal did care for Abigail, that was the one thing Will was sure of. Hannibal might feel totally at home hiding a body, he might feel no trace of guilt over knowing Abigail had killed, but these offenses Will was more than willing to forgive in the face of Hannibal’s fierce protection of her. Will could forgive him anything for that.

[drazzycrazzy]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/7 Fandom: Haikyuu!! Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru Characters: Iwaizumi Hajime, Oikawa Tooru Additional Tags: Iwaoi Week, Domestic, they're perfectly in sync, Male Love, after college AU, past trauma, shut in Iwaizumi, Totally In Love, hour drabbles, POV First Person, POV Iwaizumi, I'm doing all the prompts baby, Just wait until I get to the last day Summary:

Hajime and Tooru have been living together for 6 years now. Even after they've lost volleyball they still have each other's love. (AKA I'm doing all the prompts in a 7-8 chapter connecting chapter fic)

[ariihen]