Drhanniballecter - Blog Posts

These Days, (I seem to think a lot about the things that I forgot to do)

@drhanniballecter

The gaps in Garrett Jacob Hobbs’s form draw his eye.  Phone number, no address.  Oh, you overdid it, my man, he thinks, too damn neat.  A neat and tidy sonofabitch— and you knew it, didn’t you?  He asks the woman at the desk to sign off on the files as he slips the form back into it’s folder and tucks it under his arm.  The phone number sticks blue to the back of his eyelids.

"Who the fuck is Susan?"

“First of all: where in the hell is this coming from?  Second of all: she’s a friend.”

IC WORD ASSOCIATION.

READ THE WORD THEN TYPE THE FIRST WORD THAT COMES TO YOUR CHARACTER’S MIND. (REPOST, DON’T REBLOG).

TAGGED BY: @drhanniballecter TAGGING: // idkk whoeverrrrr

ROUGH: Waves

HIDE: Away

FOOLISH: Mistake

SAD: Without

HATE: Burns

LIGHT: Find

DARK: Enclosed

MOTHER: Gone

FATHER: Motor

CHILD: Hope

MARRIAGE: Sweet

LOVE: Ideal

SOFT: Foam

PET: Dog

DREAM: Fleeting

DIVORCE: Loss

WATER: Power

LOUD: Shout

ANNOUNCEMENT:  Alert

POWER: Control

FIGHT: Kill

SMACK: Strike

WHITE: Noise

SICK: No

KISS: Nice

HUG: Trust

HURT: Betrayal

HAPPY: Maybe

Will had begun drinking at 8.  He’d left around 10.  So, about an hour he’d been out there, staring at the moon.  Well, in’t that some shit, he thought.

“If that’s what you call heavy.”  He tried to laugh, but he just sounded tired.  “Maybe.  Does a man always need a reason to drink?”

“It’s nearly 11:30, I was just about to head to bed myself when I spotted you outside.”  He watched Will drink, having not made himself a cup. He watched as Will’s adam’s apple moved with the hot fluid that ran down his throat, it made him feel at peace. 

“You’ve been drinking heavily.” Hannibal noted, “Any reason for the occasion?” 

Will curled his fingers into the blanket, the softness of it seeping through the numb in his skin.  He watched Hannibal’s back as his host got the coffee going.

He was beginning to feel bleary.  The whites in the kitchen were melding into blobs of light in his vision. “No.  What time is it?”  He took the coffee with a ‘thank you’ and took a sip.  Damn miraculous, that coffee.

Once inside, Hannibal found a throw blanket for Will and placed it around his shoulders before starting on coffee.

“Do you know how long you were standing out there for? Your hands look as though they were beginning to turn blue.”  He doesn’t ask Will how he takes his coffee, but took the liberty of adding a single teaspoon of sugar before handing it to him. 

Whiskey. "Coffee's fine." The cold bit as soon as mentioned; he puffed air out between his lips and could see his breath.

He let Hannibal lead him wherever. The hand on his shoulder gave him something to focus on for a while.

Will nodded and let his head hang down for a bit.  It’d be nice if the answer to that last question was on Will’s shoes, but it wasn’t.  He cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Not rightly.”  He had a smile cracking sheepish on his face, and it made him feel even more loony.  “Guess I felt like a visit.”

Will nodded and let his head hang down for a bit.  It’d be nice if the answer to that last question was on Will’s shoes, but it wasn’t.  He cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Not rightly.”  He had a smile cracking sheepish on his face, and it made him feel even more loony.  “Guess I felt like a visit.”

“You didn’t.” Okay, not sleep walking then. Hannibal took a deep breath in and smelled the very distinct scent of alcohol. At least there was a reasonable explanation. 

“Are you aware you’re standing outside my house? Do you know what brought you here?” 

Will was busy looking at the moon.  He’d had a few drinks in him by then, and he’d paid a cab to take him back to Quantico.  Plan was he’d just sleep off the spirits in his office. Somewhere along the line he must have changed his mind because now he was in his psychiatrist’s front yard and the cab was nowhere in sight.  Not even the faint smell of hot carbon emission was left.

He blinked, and the moon left a blue after-image on his eyelids.  “Oh.  Didn’t mean to wake you, Dr. Lecter.”

@drhanniballecter:  a fucking crescent moon emoji

@drhanniballecter:  a fucking crescent moon emoji

He watched the tie flutter and swirl down to the floor and he smiled.  Tit for tat, the old black magic.  It’s a game he knew well.  He spread his arms, palms out and inviting.

“Take it off for me.”  Be polite, though, “Please.”

Shit? Hannibal almost commented, but decided better of it. In very fluid movements he took off his tie and discarded it to the floor.

“Quid pro quo.” He said nearly in a whisper as he eyed Will’s shirt.

Once Hannibal was close enough, Will reached out slipped his finger behind the knot of his friend's tie. With a tug, he said: "Get this shit off you."

“Could be.  C'mere.”

“Could be.  C'mere.”

“That’s quite a line of questioning. Any theme you’re hoping for?”

“Any particular theme to these thoughts on me, in general?  That’s quite a look on your face.”

“You in general, yes.”

“So...me in general, then.”

“Are you asking me if I’m objectifying you? I’m not. Your whole is greater than the sum of your parts. Not that your parts don’t each have their merit… I’m sure.”

“Me.  In general, or is there some specific part of me you’re focused on?”

“You.”

@drhanniballecter

“…What are you thinking about?”

“I’m not sure either but I assume it has something to do with American Beauty.”

// ignoring the choco-sex thread sitting like a neglected child in my drafts for daayyyyysss // [runsonfear]: "Do you ever feel like a plastic bag?"

“I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean…” 

WikiFur doesn’t have a name on file so I guess they’re just called bug-furries (or exoskellie, a proposed name from this tumblr user over here) are u suggesting something

What’s the insect species equivalent to the term “furry”??

-laughs- "Bit off a little more than you could chew?"

-whistles- “Yeah, that is pretty bad. Christ, who did that number on you?”

"You got me there. It's hard not to enjoy this. What were you doing getting your ass beat with a metal bar by a man named Brad?"

-whistles- “Yeah, that is pretty bad. Christ, who did that number on you?”

-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.” 

"Just once? I never pegged you for a quitter, Dr. Lecter."

54, 67, 89. Enthrall me Doctor.

Nsfw asks 

54. What do you do with your pubic hair (shave, trim, wax, nothing, etc.)?“…..Trim. Wax on occasion.” 

67. Have you ever attempted (or succeeded) to give yourself oral?“…………..Once. I did not succeed. I was much younger.” 

89. Do you think you’re “good” at sex, or your performance/skill could use improvement?“I would definitely say I’m quite adept. Certainly I’ve never received any kind of complain from my partners, and I’ve always managed to deliver a fulfilling experience”

“Hard to imagine you getting into many fights, Doctor. Just how bad was 'very bad?'"

56, 57, 84

Nsfw asks

56. Do you tuck your penis a certain way (i.e. left or right) when you get dressed?  “Always to the left.”

57. Do you have or want any genital piercings? Do you like any on other people?  “No, and not generally. Although this one time..”

84. Have you ever had any genital injuries?“Yes. A few times. Generally from fights. It was only ever once a very bad injury.” 

// discussing the safe word, hannigram edition.

@drhanniballecter

Will outright grinned.  There is a certain flavor of satisfaction that comes from being the first to do anything for someone.  Having this would be another link in the gold chain of his mind, tying together the various impressions he had of the man in front of him.

“I think you will,” he said, fingers working to unclasp the belt and slip it out from its loops.  “And I’ll start slow.  Make it last as long as it needs to.”  The leather was tough and smooth in his palm.  Folding it once, he gave one soft smack of it against his palm.  He folded it one more time and did it again, this time satisfied with the sharp, tight sound he got.

Standing up to full height again, he unzipped Hannibal’s pants and slipped his fingers down to palm the hard girth there.  He wanted to feel it before he saw it:

“Well, shit, Dr. Lecter,” he murmured, “not bad at all.”

He continued to stroke, lightly, as he continued:  “I need you to pick a word.  Any word you like, but it’s got to be short and easy to remember.”  Absently, he slid the belt gently up and down Hannibal’s thigh, his back, up under his chin.  “Anytime you want me to stop, use that word.  I’ll stop no matter what, alright?”

He nipped at his new lover’s jaw while his mind whirred over a myriad of possibilities; some included the belt, the counter, the chocolate, and the hours left to them in the night.  “What’s your word, Hannibal?”

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

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

“Hey, hey, hey: what's said in bed is like what happens in Vegas.”

// procrastination blogging // [runsonfear]: "What would you have had me do, exactly?"

“For starters you could have put oil on the pan so it wouldn’t stick.

Careless.”

Will hummed as Hannibal bit and sucked, eyes fluttering shut to feel those teeth and that tongue more acutely.  He rolled his hips a little, just to tease the shape of his growing erection against Hannibal’s.  A small hiss when Hannibal nibbled his ear; he grinned:

“Good man.”  He stripped his shirt off and cast it to the side.  One arm snaked around Hannibal’s middle to press him closer ad he reached for the bowl of chocolate with the other.  The feeling of skin on skin, muscles twitching against muscles, Hannibal’s hair against his own hairless chest, saturated his senses and he let his drawl run deep when he spoke:

“Now, close your eyes—,” a wink, “please.”

With two fingers dipped into the chocolate, he started drizzling the sauce on select areas of Hannibal’s neck, his collarbone, his shoulders and such, moving downward along the body.  He lapped and slurped and bit the chocolate off as he went, making obscene noises and leaving little toothy indents like breadcrumbs.  Occasionally, he’d let his fingernails scrape down some patch of skin to see the flesh pink in neat lines.

As he got ever lower, closer to Hannibal’s belt he paused to look up at Hannibal, his eyes clear and bright.  “I’m going to remove your belt, but I’d like to use it on you.  Is that alright?”

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

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

"Your own fault for insisting on making this a cooking lesson...again. I know I can deal with me, myself, and I alone tonight; your track record isn't so great there."

// procrastination blogging // [runsonfear]: "What would you have had me do, exactly?"

“For starters you could have put oil on the pan so it wouldn’t stick.

Careless.”

"You have too many kinds of oil; how was I supposed to figure that out? Olive oil, extra virgin olive oil, canola oil, coconut oil...this is excessive."

// procrastination blogging // [runsonfear]: "What would you have had me do, exactly?"

“For starters you could have put oil on the pan so it wouldn’t stick.

Careless.”