uhhh hear me out.

I really like this one. It gets me good

4 i could watch this for a long time

Tagged by @kwatanghulu ♥

RULES: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous and tag as many people as you have WIPs.

People send an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then you post a snippet or tell them something about it!

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Ok so I try to avoid working on multiple fics at once cause my brain can't handle it… But still, there's a few…

twists n turns // (aka htyw, I switch the file name every now and then to spice things up)

kittycat // (the only sfw one)

it's (not) just the heat talking // (smutshot based on htyw)

not another dust fic // (my main side project ig)

I’m fun! I’m cute! I’ll do tricks in exchange for praise! 😤😤

This is my official plea to get more asks about anything and everything, tell me a fun fact, a dirty fantasy, ask me a would you rather or have me rate a kink, anything!

(Mutuals I’m looking at you 🥺🥺)

I jut noticed this and now I'm a little curious

What's his thoughts on the fact that, even if it's different characters, Shen Yuan and his sword Fue Yue has parts of Yue Qingyuan's name?

:3

it's very funny that you picked the one you specifically had a hand in! i have no idea if you remember waaay back in 2021, i asked the gc for a challenge prompt and you said "aggro will" and bees said "s1 where everything is the same except will is a nudist"

.....and that's more or less what this is! even though i wouldn't say it's terribly funny, as the concepts would suggest. i've somehow kicked around in the grass enough to smash my toes on the one serious bit in the whole idea.

and, as promised, an excerpt:

Over the next week, Hannibal spent a very long time considering that evening in Wolf Trap.

A lifetime studying classical art and a youth spent embedded in the great museums of Italy and France meant he was no stranger to aesthetic nudity. Body forms to be appreciated, in gentle rolls of skin and fat rendered soft enough to touch even in marble, the arcs of delicate hands and fingers and the cut of strong thighs, the slope of breasts and pleasant asymmetry of testes. Even the preserved lay of the cadaver, sectioned to moth-wing delicacy, roadmap vessels teased from spidering nerve and marbled muscle. The human form was an art, the flesh a canvas he’d rendered designs in with the shades of a pencil, the cold edge of a knife. His hands, when nothing else would do. 

He appreciated Will Graham’s just the same, unexpected as it was. He hadn’t thought overly much about it before: Will had a delicate sort of look about his face that the plane of his shoulders and the surety and breadth of his hands betrayed. He’d seen quick snatches of hidden places once—crook of the elbow, stark flash of thigh where it sloped and nestled into the kneecap, suggestion of shoulder blade peaks through the back of a thin sleeping shirt. 

Hannibal hadn’t been curious to see the rest, at the time. He was curious now. 

He hadn’t expected the confidence, the teeth-bearing snappishness that Will bared along with the rest of himself. A twin to the thing that poked its head out in Jack Crawford’s office when they’d met, to the caginess of their first session. 

“A sort of naked hostility,” he’d told Bedelia over a glass of something pink, with a private little smile, “in the most literal sense.” 

He was also, however, struck by acres of skin, very white in the blue night. Thoroughly. Insistently. It never left his mind the entire week, how he wanted to see the rest of Will. 

“Having trouble recognizing your own interest?” she’d said, with her considering blink and even deeper considering sip. “I can’t imagine you have trouble recognizing that, Hannibal. Untangling academic curiosity from a personal one.”

“Hardly an academic curiosity,” he’d corrected. “Not even a psychiatric one. Simply different varieties of personal curiosities.” 

Hannibal flexed his grip, folded palms over the point of his knee. Three ways to render Will, to capture that raw hostility, honesty, the soft ripple of his ribs.

Pencil. Knife. Hands, when nothing else would do.

SCARECROW MY BABYGIRL💞 I will only write fluff for him because that's what he deserves.

He is most innocent, sweet and loyal guy you will ever met, I simp for him so hard because every crush I had broke my heart.

...

Maybe I went too far.