"I'm sorry about this." *kisses passionately* Pass it on to the next 10 people on your dash.
It was becoming clear he had miscalculated ever-so-slightly on the psilocybin tea's concentration.

seen from Brazil
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Türkiye
seen from China
seen from Russia
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from T1
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from Iraq

seen from United States
seen from South Korea
seen from United States
seen from Guatemala
"I'm sorry about this." *kisses passionately* Pass it on to the next 10 people on your dash.
It was becoming clear he had miscalculated ever-so-slightly on the psilocybin tea's concentration.
survivalandsecrets replied to your post: Things I may do because I seamonkey before an episode
can we flail together?
absolutely. hit up my ask for my skype.
+survivalandsecrets
Will was still struggling with how to act around Abigail. After finding out about the Nicholas Boyle incident and going along with the plan to keep it a secret, he hadn’t been alone with her. He’d spoken to Hannibal about it briefly but all he suggested was to try and act as normal as possible.
Normal wasn’t something that came easily to Will, in any situation. So as expected, under these circumstances it was all the more difficult. But, he was going to try. Abigail needed people in her life that she could trust and depend on it she needed the comfort and reassurance. It just so happened that himself and Hannibal were the only two people she could ever be honest with about the way she was feeling; they were the only two that knew everything.
Standing outside of the psychiatric hospital, he took deep breaths before finally walking in. Abigail had only been able to visit him once when he was in the hospital and she had been asking how he was doing. Now that he was out, he decided to check in on her and see exactly how she was doing, and ensure he was as okay as he could be at the same time.
Abigail Hobbs kept walls up and tried to make people believe she was a tough girl who could handle herself. Will knew differently. He saw the desperate girl just looking for somebody to care and help get her life back on track. Since the death of her father, Will had attempted to take on that role, only wanting her happiness and security.
Knocking on her door, he hoped she wouldn’t push him out and would at least welcome him back.
Exploding fireworks of 10's across the board/ Well, your response today had me questioning if Bryan Fuller stole your computer. Aka: Perfection./Very well/ Not a thing/I have read almost all of them/ Someone on my dash told me to follow you, I have no clue who though. Sorry! (I saw that you took this down. Still had to do it.)
[tucks you against her bosom and clings] Dude, I rolled right out of my chair to cover my face and groan at being likened to Fuller. Thank you.
More guests are being served
howthouartfallen
ginger-reaper
savingpeopledoingmoosestuff
survivalandsecrets
screamqueenkirby
charcoal-wings
blackest-ops
He had been expecting guests that night, and it seemed that they had arrived just a little sooner than he had expected. It was no worry to him, though, as the food was just about ready, and they could surely keep conversation to themselves while he prepared.
Washing his hands, he walked casually to the door and opened it with a small smirk.
"Good evening, I'm glad you could make it."
ᴏᴜᴛᴏғᴅᴇsɪɢɴs —
Sorry it's blurry, I just really didn't want to film it again. Also it cuts out at the end. I had more to say, but for some reason, the sound disappeared so I just gave the fuck up because it was becoming too much hassle.
Tagging the people mentioned.
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omg no sssssssssssssh n o
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It was an awkward situation for the both of them. Nightmares were not an uncommon thing for the profiler and he understood the fear the younger girl felt. He understood the rushing of blood through one’s head as they jolt up from their sleeping positions, the quickening of heart rates and the shallow and laboured breaths, the sweat that clung onto her forehead was sure to send cold chills down her spine.
Will Graham was no stranger to nightmares.
Still, as the two stared at each other then, him standing over her small hospital bed stiffly, unsure of what to do, and she, now sitting upright in her bed, hands clutched tightly on the pale blue bedsheets, he felt an odd rush of warmth rush through his veins.
She didn’t trust him; he did kill her father, after all, and he was no Hannibal Lecter, but he knew that the girl needed some reassurance.
Slowly, he walks over to where she sat and sits down on the edge of the bed. There’s another beat of silence as if he was waiting for her to react. She doesn’t. So he wraps his arms around her small shoulders and gives them a squeeze. She relaxes under the embrace.
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Will stood by the fireplace, listening to his father’s snoring from the other room. He was compelled by the way the flames were so changeable so.. flamboyant. Beautiful. Biting his lip, he reached forward, touching the glass separating his fingers from the dancing light. It wasn’t it’s beauty that compelled him so easily. It was its freedom. And he longed for that, to touch this free light.
He hissed, jerking his hand back. Examining the soft tips of his fingers, they bloomed, a deep red. It seemed like freedom sometimes came at a price.