#1kwrite

[1k1h]

HI THERE!

Remember us? We’re baaaack.

NEW WRITING TIMES, EST:

Monday/Wednesday - 9pm

Tuesday/Thursday - 8pm

Saturday/Sunday - 3pm

NEW EDITING TIME, EST:

Friday 8pm

Join the fun!

[1k1h]

Aaaand.....STOP!

How’d you do? 

[1k1h]

And...STOP! How’d you do?

I ended up with a surprising 1243. Yikes! What’d you come up with?

[1k1h]

1k1h in 45 minutes....

Sorry for sleeping through yesterday’s 1k1h. My bad. 

[1k1h]

1k1h aaaand....GO!

[shiphitsthefan]

Did the 1k1hr delete their blog? :(

As far as I know, @1k1h is still on hiatus. I last spoke with the mod back at the end of July, and they were, at that point, really ridiculously busy. Hopefully things offline will slow down, and they’ll be able to come back soon! :)

[shiphitsthefan]

He sits down in his boxers and t-shirt and watches the waves. Hannibal knows better than to come and fetch him. Will imagines Hannibal’s grown as used to his morning ritual as his own, waking up alone and padding into the kitchen to make breakfast. There’s always tattie scones and link sausages whenever Will finally returns, though Hannibal has eaten without him, already in his armchair next to the warming stove reading poetry. At some point, a cup of French press coffee will show up next to Will’s hand.

Every day is comfortably the same, as regular as the tide that licks along the Kildonan shore. Except, that is, for today.

[“While the Sands o' Life Shall Run” // by @shiphitsthefan // read it on ao3]

[shiphitsthefan]

Will’s fixing Hannibal with the stare and the slink he reserves for prey, all sinuous, all sin. He doesn’t stop when he reaches Hannibal’s chair, just grasps the back of the chair and straddles him.

Hannibal’s mouth goes dry. “What are you doing, Will?” 

Will chuckles and says, drawing out every letter, voice pitched slightly higher, “Daddy.”

[Tėvelis // by @shiphitsthefan // read it on ao3]