#1nfamed

           𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐍𝐎 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐑? An impossible thing, when all it took was but a single look, soft doe eyes and a pouting bottom lip for him to bend over backwards. A look of complete and utter adoration lingered in his gaze, causing a crooked smile to ghost at the edges of his mouth. Anything she ever wanted, he’d try his best to provide, even when it came to something so simple- leaning down to her level to give her a kiss.

✨ positivity sunday. ✨

          𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐘, he knew that somewhere in the back of his mind if he answered wrong she’d make him sleep on the couch. But where most would blurt out a yes without thought, he took the chance at hand to really think about it- tease her as he stopped to think it over. 

           “I don’t know, I mean, yeah, of course I would, so long as you’re not like, a centipede or one of those big hairy spiders- a black widow- or a scorpion- is a scorpion a bug? Really anything with too many legs is what I’m saying- which I’m not saying you’d be any of those things. Maybe something like a ladybug, y’know, kinda cute and small… and.. yeah.” 

send 👫 for four headcanons about our muse’s relationship.

while jordan was in the hospital after the attack, doctor lecter took primary care over her, even going so far as to do the nurse's jobs when he wasn't doing emergency surgery. meaning he often got her clean pillows, checked her vitals, got her extra jello when she wanted. and he also often brought flowers to her, and brought her things to do, like books or magazines to read, puzzles to keep her busy. he was also the one to overlook her physical therapy, and would take her on walks around the hospital when she was feeling up to it.

after she was released, he continued to keep in contact. and when he transitioned into being a psychatrist, hannibal insisted he be the one to treat her and do her therapy - who else could she trust more than the man who saved her life? so hannibal ensured that she had the best care. if jordan didn't want to do it officially, in his office, he was happy to do it at her apartment, or at his home, both of which they had both been in before. he was glad to see, further into therapy, that she was still angry about the events, and at times subtly toyed with her mind to see if he could ever push that anger. when it got too much, hannibal was also more than willing to hold jordan when she cried.

on particularly bad nights, jordan would call hannibal, and he'd go to her and make her her favorite foods. it's true that he's snobby when it comes to ingrediants, but he makes it exactly how she wants it, every time, no matter what it is. he wants the meals he makes on these nights to be as comforting as possible. and he also makes homemade hot chocolate with chili power in it - sweet and spicy, so it'll warm her stomach.

everything came crumbling down when jordan was spending the night at hannibal's home and began looking around. she was just curious, but unfortunately, she found one of the freezers. hannibal was devastated as he picked up a knife. he did try to kill her, and he maimed her monstrously, but jordan was able to get away. hannibal would try to find her at the hospital later and either talk her into keeping the secret, or finish what he started, depending on how she reacts.

❝ Ah — Shit. ❞ He squints his eye in the bathroom mirror and lightly grazes some fingers along the reddish-purple skin around it while he leans over the counter. Then there's the small cut near his brow that had better not scar. ( One hit. He takes one goddamn hit during a take ... ) ❝ Dammit ... ❞ comes out in a grumble and he grimaces slightly at his own reflection. It's a sight he's seen in the past, plenty of times and he's looked a lot worse ( real fighting used to be his life ) but, these days, it's not one he likes to see. They can write it off as realism for the screen, he guesses ( but apparently his pride took the same hit his face did ) .

Johnny hears a yawn behind him and Jordan sidles into the bathroom doorway. He eyes himself in the mirror again, lines forming between his brows the more he studies the bruise. The second he sees in the reflection that she's getting a look at his face now — more importantly the upset part — he knows he's in for it. She already did the ' are you okay? ' and ' it's really not that bad and I'm just glad you're alright ' routine last night. That means only one thing ...

❝ Men are such babies. ❞

And there it is ... Johnny scoffs. ❝ It's not my first hit, you know, ❞ he says, glancing over his shoulder at her. He cocks a brow, one corner of his lips lifting up at the sight of her playful expression. He shifts his body slightly as she comes to lean against him. ❝ It just shouldn't've happened ... ❞ he muses, but maybe it's mostly to himself. ❝ Easy fuckin' choreo and this guy comes at me with a full swing like we're in the goddamn ring, ignoring his mark — ❞ Johnny stops himself before saying anything else. ( What's that? A twinge of conscience? ) His brow twitches and he sighs. His head shakes and his gaze falls. ❝ Or I ... missed mine — I don't ... Doesn't matter. Whatever. ❞ His shoulders relax a bit and he turns his head to look down at her again. ❝ At least Drew said he's puttin' the hit in the movie, I guess. ❞ He shrugs. ❝ Makes it real. ❞ ( Oh, yeah, like that will save whatever script it is ... )

❝ Is saying ' more than anything ' too much? ❞ She asks it like a real question, like she's actually wondering. How much sentimentality is too much? Is she already looking back on this with rose-tinted glasses? Or did she really, truly enjoy those dozens of sleepless nights? The mad dashes to write her papers and do her projects when she spent so much time stressing about the show that she forgot to stress about her actual degree ... And how could she forget those moments where nobody clapped? Just the awkward silence while staring out in the audience before walking off. ( So much to choose from. )

Lia leans back a little further into the couch moving the bowl of popcorn onto the cushion in between them. She focuses on the TV, just ... thinking — they're watching the most recent ( and one of the last ) shows of ' Could Be Better ' since Jordan couldn't be there. A smile creeps onto her face, small. Bittersweet. It's like she realizes in that moment that it's all ending. The writing all-nighters ( with Eddy trying, every time, to rename that to ' all-writers ' ) , creating and pasting fliers all over campus at the last second on show day, making absolutely whatever they want to make ( almost no holds barred ) ; feeling like they have their whole lives ahead of them ... ( One last hurrah. ) ❝ But yeah, ❞ she answers. She turns to Jordan more now, studying her for just a second ... Lia almost wonders if she should even ask this question ; it's ... broad. Best case scenario, they reminisce. Worst case ... Well — She's just going to hope for the former. ❝ What about you? ❞