the funny thing about me is i have a massive inferiority complex a few days ago i asked a question in my lecture and due to my being nervous (because social anxiety and shizz) i wasn’t sure how to phrase it so i gave it quite a lame, unclear ending and some idiot girl snickered and i could see my lecturer couldn’t understand what i meant and i could feel tears welling up in my eyes and there was nothing i wanted more than to get out of the audience room go home and stab myself with a knife as a punishment good night folks
yesterday my cousin slash friend said gillian anderson is ugly
i haven’t talked to her since
Will turned toward him and rolled onto his side. He propped himself up on one elbow and leaned over him. Hannibal felt hemmed in, as he had in the asylum when Will kissed him. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. Will’s thumb skirted the edge of his lower lip, so softly he barely felt it.
"Tell me you love me," Will said. His expression was as good a mask as any Hannibal had ever worn.
"I want to know what you look like when you’re lying."
(fic here. it’s chaptered. witha sequel. or a few, i haven’t gotten to them yet.)