Warning: Major Major One Piece Spoilers Of Wano And Egghead!!!!!

One last time, Blood for the blood God

Just seen your post about what Holmes saw in Watson, but what did Watson see in Holmes?

I mean, Watson himself has more than a bit to say on the subject. But I would say:

Watson was depressed and anxious and lonely. Holmes is enthusiastic, he’s eager, he’s brilliant, he’s unselfconscious; he talks to Watson the way you talk to a friend from the moment he sees him. He’s a mess. He forgets to eat. He needs picking up after. He makes Watson feel better about his own messy existence.

He’s passionate and principled and anarchic and endlessly unexpected. He is mysteries within mysteries. He’s BEAUTIFUL.

He notices Watson; respects Watson. He wants him around. He teases him and praises him. He pays attention to him, plays for him when he’s weary, takes him out, tucks him up, walks with him, begs for his company in everything.

He looks after Watson, grounds him. He talks about him constantly as “my boy, my dear doctor, my Watson,” and someone who calls you “mine” is a revelation to someone as alone in the world as John Watson.

He is chaotic. He undermines the prevailing opinion of society by not giving a damn about it. He pursues what fascinates him, fights for what matters to him, and thumbs his nose at anyone who expects his respect for their position alone. He looks at everything upside down and sideways. He makes the world seem less bound to be the way it is. He gives Watson a new life that’s less about solid career choices and more about magic, at a time when the world had started to seem terribly, crushingly unmagical.

He trusts Watson. He believes in Watson in all the ways he needs most to be believed in: that he is a good man, a decent man, a brave and a capable one, a good doctor and a friend. He believes in other things, things that Watson might have lost sight of somewhere in Afghanistan–justice, kindness, mercy, an underlying love evident in the loveliness of the world. People looking out for people just because they can.

He’s tenderhearted; he blushes and tears up when he’s praised, asks forgiveness when he fails, starts to shake when Watson’s wounded. He gets depressed, and lonely, and admits it; he tells Watson when he needs him.

He makes beautiful things; music and truth. And he loves, could love, no one else in the world as he loves John Watson.

And yet, some will still claim: “The protests are antisemitic!”

“The Proof is in the Soup”

A slightly different take on that chicken soup scene in Releves. For @messy-scandinoodle

Hannibal generally isn’t one to argue with himself. He knows his own mind, he knows what he hopes to achieve, and he knows how to either get what he wants or how to adjust any situation so that it is more advantageous to getting what he wants. If he doesn’t get what he wants, he can still at least amused by the process.

Except…

There is now the Will Graham issue to contend with.

Where Will Graham is concerned, Hannibal does find himself second-guessing some of his choices. There are too many choices, or not enough of them. Hannibal wants certain outcomes more than others, and he doesn’t think he’ll be satisfied with just amusement at the process.

So as he prepares the soup he intends to bring to Will’s bedside table, Hannibal wonders how best to approach a recipe he’s recreated many times.

Should I leave the dates whole, or chop them? Might they infuse the broth with too much sweetness? What if Will doesn’t like dates?

Have you thought of that?

And the star anise…surely Will  knows not to eat them. Perhaps you should remove them after they’ve imparted their flavor.

Even on the way to the hospital, with the soup done and packed in its carrying case, Hannibal frets over how best to introduce the meal.

Make it sound artistic and complex. Impress him with the exotic components, like a composer showing off rare instruments.

But what if he sees the truth? What if he sees your true intentions?

He won’t. He’ll be dazzled by the ingredients.

In the hospital room, Will stirs from sleep as soon as Hannibal begins unpacking the meal.

“Smells delicious,” he says, hair tousled and eyes still drowsy.

“Silkie chicken in a broth,” Hannibal explains. He decides on a small history lesson. “A black-boned bird prized in China for its medicinal values since the seventh century. Wolfberries, ginseng, ginger, red dates, and star anise.”

Will’s eyebrows go up. A cartoon light bulb practically goes on over his head.

“You made me chicken soup?”

Hannibal freezes in place. His inability to respond lasts only a split second, but it feels like ages. His mind screams at him.

HE KNOWS. WILL GRAHAM KNOWS WHAT YOU’VE DONE. HE HAS SEEN THROUGH YOUR ARTISTIC RUSE.

Time slows to a crawl, nearly stops entirely.

YOU FOOL. YOU FOOLISH FOOL.

Will’s expression bores into him like a tunneling electron microscope, ferreting out the purest essence of the truth.

HE KNOWS YOU HAVE MADE FOR HIM THE NUMBER ONE ILLNESS REMEDY MADE FOR LOVED ONES SINCE TIME IMMEMORIAL. CHICKEN SOUP! CHICKEN SOUP! WHEN YOU LOVE SOMEONE, YOU MAKE THEM CHICKEN SOUP!!!!

Hannibal forces himself to remain outwardly calm and waits for time to begin moving again.

“Yes,” he finally says, his tone curt.

CHANGE THE SUBJECT, YOU FOOL.

“The nurses tell me you’ve been wandering, Will,” he says, and hopes the burning he feels inside cannot be seen from the outside.

(end)

im obsessed with the implications this has for phil actually. like, is he from the IRL too? is he from fucking utah??

iñaki godoy studied luffyology at the esteemed monkey d'university. he graduated top of his class. latin honors. he's on his way to get a phd. oops wait he's already got it. my god. the talent on this young man. he's got that natural troublemaker face. the class clown at the back of the class kind of energy. a kid who's hiding something in his hand. u take one glance at this guy and u know he's not up to no good. but would u follow him anyway? are u kidding me. look at him. of course u would.

it's the one year anniversary of the red festival and all i can think of is two minutes and forty six seconds.

that's how long c!techno stalled for.

two minutes and forty six seconds of him pretending schlatt wasn't asking him to kill tubbo, asking if he meant getting tubbo a coat when schlatt told him to 'take care of' him.

two minutes and forty six seconds of techno stuttering and turning ever so slightly towards his allies on the roof, not wanting to give up their position, knowing they couldn't do anything.

two minutes and forty six seconds of pretending that knowing if he tried to run or save tubbo, he'd likely die was 'mild peer pressure'.

and two minutes and forty six seconds of c!tubbo wondering what was going to happen, wondering if the ally he'd been promised wouldn't hurt him would do just that.

two minutes and forty six seconds that tubbo had to wait either to die or for his friends to try to save him, putting their lives at risk as well. two minutes and forty six seconds for his work as a spy to be over.

two minutes and forty six seconds for schlatt and this one event to drive a wedge between so many people, drive it in so firmly, that to this day the server is still feeling the effects.

it just makes me soo like wilbur didnt want to be a father at first and now he's teaching tallulah to love because he believes it triumphs over everything...he wants to protect her with a thin wall between her and reality, from everything complicated, from fighting up close, in order to be safe. Safe enough to live, and to never face anything that could destroy love. It won't last forever, something will throw a wrench in that. Whether she runs into danger regardless, or she watches him from afar (just like he taught her, with the bow) dying for her. Whether her family is ripped from her, or she believes one day love isn't enough.

"If the world is really dying, would you kiss one more time?"

"Only if you promise me that it won't be the last"

Though you’ve long gone cold,

The taste of you lingers on

And haunts all my dreams