If Will Graham Had BeReal

Hannibal S01E10 "Buffet Froid"

IM CRYINGGG

never getting over how absolutely proud this motherfucker looked when will was talking about the chesapeake ripper, that sparkle in his eyes makes me go feral every single time

I love this more than anything 🩵🥹

they exceeded the slut-o-meter

I am so unwell

Hannibal (2013-2015)

Hannigram in the first episode + Hugh Dancy talking about their relationship

Hannibal premiered 11 years ago on April 4, 2013

Hannibal S02E10 "Naka-choko"

I Love Everything about this

Sometimes I watch the show and try to think of Hannibal’s perspective and it’s a total trip. Like. Imagine you’ve been able to control and pick and choose your emotions and reactions your whole life, due to being somehow psychopath-adjacent. And the only time you couldn’t was when you were little with your baby sister, and it’s probable that as your brain matured, the possibility of feeling and forming connections like that dried up entirely. You read the psychiatric journals, and occasionally there’s something about a man who can connect with others so deeply he can become an echo of them. And then you meet this man, and he mocks your comment about eye contact while holding yours.

An understanding passes between both of you that you have hidden depths. Instead of killing him, you bring him breakfast, and make him dinner, and serve him drinks. Instead of being able to toy with his mind without a care, you think of him and your chest clenches, and your gut swoops, and his face and voice and his rude little barbs invade your mind like glittering parasites that you can’t remove. These feelings are alien, and they’re also yours. You know, deep down, why you’re letting him live, why you stare after him, why you toe the line of risking it all for him. But you don’t want to face it. It’s terrifying, this horizon of who you are and can be that looms before you with no choice of your own.

Framing him presents a convenient opportunity for ridding yourself of this thing he brings on in you, this total lack of control, this fever-dream surrender that breaches the walls of your mind and the tics and tells of your body so effortlessly— but you miss him. You don’t miss anyone, and the one person you do is more of an imago that never was able to grow into her own real person. But the you you’ve helplessly become certainly does. You’ve become an addict. You cannot let him rot when his presence gave your monochrome world color, you can’t quit the drug you’ve always shunned. This is all a devil’s bargain, certainly, but you’ve already damned yourself, and all that’s left to do is plunge further. Oh and by the way. The infuriating man in question looks like this:

Like okay then, good luck not having the crashout of the century 😭