Pretend

ao3feed-hannigram:

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2MtTQnS

by

Hannibal and Will pretend to be boyfriends in order to lure The Sweetheart Stalker.

Will finds out that Hannibal is the perfect fake boyfriend.

Words: 888, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2MtTQnS

On September 13th it will be three years since I wrote my first Hannigram fanfiction. 

I have written 242 full fics on ao3 in that time and countless AU ficlets, some of which became full fics and some that did not. 

I’ve also had fics that gathered dust. 

Now I am asking if there are any you’d like to see more of.

Till Monday, if there are any you’d like to see again I’ll write a short continuation. 

If I get no response then I’ll pick my own favorites and do three of them. 

As always, thank you for your continuing support. 

color-division:

Sort of Professor/student AU [Actually I was going for age difference but this happened]

Will decided to take a seminary on Dante and ended up in Hannibal’s class (y’know the class where all the rude/noisy students always abandon after 2 classes). And it’s basically like always, Will gets away with so much rude stuff because he’s brilliant, and Hannibal wants to devour every single word that’s written in his essays. Also he never wants to sit in the front because people pretty much kill for a spot there.

American Pie at the BSHCI

inglenookie:

Because sometimes you have to write the stupidest thing ever (for @slashyrogue​ mit ❤️)

“You again.”

“That’s not happy to see me.”

“Let’s call it less than a surprise.”

“Yes, well, Doctor Chilton was kind enough to provide me with an open pass so to speak.”

“You know he’s listening, right?”

“I’m sure it’s the highlight of his day.”

“Scribbling his little notes.”

“About me as well.”

“Because you’re so interesting. Isn’t that what you said?”

“Perhaps. Who can recall with all that’s transpired?”

“I can.”

“You have your own narrative.”

“I know what happened.”

“In any case, I brought you something.”

“A pardon from the governor?”

“I’m afraid not. Merely a small token. A touch of home perhaps.”

“… You made me a pie?”

“I did. Asian pear and pink lady apples with vietnamese cinnamon. The lattice crust-”

“An apple pie.”

“… Yes.”

“Is there a file in it?”

“No. Not a file.”

“Some personal blend of psychotropic drugs?”

“Again, no. No drugs. And no poison, lest you ask that next.”

“Color me suspicious.”

“I can’t imagine why.”

“Can’t you?”

“Is it so unlikely that someone like me, who enjoys baking, would take the opportunity to impart a bit of warmth to these dark confines?”

“Warmth, huh?”

“Mmhm.”

“People-”

“No, Will. There are no people in it.”

“…”

“Scout’s honor.”

“Like they’d ever accept you in the scouts.”

“That wounds me, Will.”

“Good.”

“If you don’t want it-”

“It does smell good.”

“Yes. That’s the cinnamon. There’s allspice as well.”

“I guess I could … Why is it dented?”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. Right there.”

“Oh. Travel damage I’m afraid.”

“It’s in a box.”

“Clumsy packaging?”

“You’ve never done anything clumsy in your life.”

“A spurious assumption.”

“Looks almost like a hole.”

“My thumb perhaps.”

“Hannibal.”

“Yes, Will?”

“Were you fully dressed when you made this pie?”

“I- Why do you ask?”

“Why don’t you answer?”

“It’s a ridiculous question.”

“So answer it.”

“… I was mostly dressed.”

“I knew it!”

“That means nothing. I often bake in various states of disrobing. The kitchen can be quite warm.”

“Take it.”

“Are you sure you won’t have even a small taste?”

“Frederick! Are you getting this?”

“Now there’s no need to involve-”

“Oh yeah there is.”

“Perhaps I’ll just take my pie-”

“You do that. Take your jizz pie.”

“Apple.”

“Whatever.”