Some days I hate my brain

I'm sitting here this morning, working on finishing my Hannibal fanfic, slowly filling in the gaps between the chunks that are already written to make it one whole thing. Then a conversation for the sequel fic pops into my head, the one I'm scribbling down bits of as they ambush me, because that's what stories do. And as I'm writing that, I suddenly realise I know what the third fic has to be.

And I'm sitting here thinking, 'Am I really going to write this, and eroticise it?' And yes, yes, I probably am.