Plate XIII.

Swallowtail. The youngster's diary. 1820.

Internet Archive

[molls-to-the-wall]: hey hon, can you unload the dishwasher tonight? i've got a dog sleeping on my legs so i can't exactly move right now... thanks <3

OR you could just shove him off because I have work to do, Molly.  Important work.  Work that requires care and concentration, Molly.

Will nodded, eyes pinned where Hannibal had them.  “Thank you.”

"I'm sorry."

“Are you, now?”  Maybe another glass in he’d have been more ready; but they were doing this now.  He downed what he had in his glass.

Will’s gaze flicks between Hannibal’s mouth and eyes.  “When it comes to your cooking, I don’t know if what I feel is surprise anymore.  Maybe something closer to ‘aroused interest.’”  Or resigned confusion.

“In any case,” he leans forward, elbows rested on the table, “I don’t mind learning a few new tricks.”

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

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

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

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

// *remembers*

Who rps Will Graham these days??

@runsonfear

-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.”