i'm not sure what you mean by "or otherwise" and i hope i am not too impudent but... hypothermia, sharing body heat, unexpected boners? *runs away and hides*
Don’t mind me, just answering prompts from months ago…
Tied hand and foot, guns to their temples, Paul has to admit this mission is not going well so far. He and Daryl had been scavenging rusty old boats tied to the small, rotten dock of a frozen lake when three Saviors surprised them, pointing rifles from the shore before Paul even realized they’d been spotted.
These Saviors aren’t soldiers, that much is obvious by the fact that they’d tied Paul and Daryl’s wrists in front of them. It’s also obvious by the fact that they seem lost about what to do next. One had walked back to the shore and up the road with her radio, trying to reach someone at the base for direction. The others pace the dock nervously, guns in hand. Paul’s hands are nearly free already, and then he just needs one of the guards to meander a little closer to him and they’re golden.
Glancing over to signal Daryl, he finds the other man in some kind of fugue state. Usually the archer is almost stupidly brave, but kneeling and bound, Daryl’s chest is heaving, his eyes are closed, and sweat is visible on his temple despite the icy wind.
“Hey, Daryl. Daryl, you alright?” Paul asks immediately, trying to scoot closer.
“Shut it,” one of the Saviors barks, kicking him viciously in the side. Paul slumps over onto the decrepit dock and feels the knot at his wrists give. He carefully holds the rope in place and begins flexing his ankles in tiny circular motions, not bothering to sit up again.
Daryl is still panicking, his breath audible over the wind and creaking wood. Paul’s reminded vividly of when he’d turned the corner at the Sanctuary and seen-
Right. Shit. The Sanctuary.
Daryl must think these oafs are going to take him back to Negan, that he would end up being tortured in a dark and dirty cell again.
Chao Yang, who won the camera d’or at Cannes in 2004 with his debut feature, brought art house cinema audience another visually stunning picture, “Crosscurrent”. This time, “Crosscurrent” earned him a silver bear for cinematography at Berlin film festival.
Yellow hues juxtaposed with blue colouring, the movies’ mesmerizing images and poetic nature of the loose storyline might remind the audience of “wong kar wai”. On the other hand, the depiction of rural China being washed away by industrialization and globalization would have remind one of Jia Zhang-Ke’s “Still Life”. “Crosscurrent” is sino art house cinema meet Fifth generation directing style. “Crosscurrent” is rusty mechanical boats slicing across cold blue river versus handwritten poetry on aged papers coloured yellow by the light of oil lamps. Cruising along with a ship’s middle age captain, Yang Chao’s movie explores the captain’s mourning over his recently departed father, his affair with the same woman at different ports, and his musings about life and love on the backdrop of rapidly industrializing and urbanizing China.
Accompanying by rustic landscapes and splashing of water against the boat, the boat’s captain takes on a mystical journey of self-discovery in the year of 1989, on the Yangzte river–which often hailed as the cradle of Chinese civilization. The impressionistic way of storytelling is drenched in metaphors, allegories and poetic musings relate to buddhist teachings, making the meaning of the protagonist’s journey nearly impossible to decipher. Ambitious in conception, the stunning visuals and melodramatic acoustic score in Yang’s latest picture ultimately overwhelmed the nearly non existent plot. However, Yang did manage to create a solid landscape of rural China devoured by the effect of globalization. It is an image the western art house cinema audience are all too familiar with, nevertheless, it brings nostalgia to those who once called this vanished landscape their home.
Author: maiammitchell Genre: smut, humor Summary: Request for Lucas working on cars and turning Maya on in the process.
A/N: So this is sloppy as fuck, but it’s also kind of hot? Please let me know what y’all think. Oh! And CJ is an original character, Shawn and Katy’s son who is born when the gang are juniors in high school. He can also be found in my other story. They’re 18 in this though, enjoy!
*apologies It’s so long*
p>Being Captain Hook’s daughter I’ve gotten used to all the raucous that comes with the sea.
We’ve been on NeverLand for a good 5 years. Its been nice to not age, but my father never really let’s me roam. So it gets kind of boring.
The ship shakes more than usual, and it’s making it extremely difficult to read. My father snores peacefully in his cot.
I step onto the deck to see if I can do anything to quiet the noise a tad.
Nothing seems out of the ordinary. But I feel like something is here. I take out my knife that is always extra sharpened (thanks to my father).
“The Lost Boys have said you were beautiful but I didn’t imagine this.” The infamous Pan evilly smirks.
“What do you want Pan?” I question still holding my weapon close.
“Just you.” He says caressing my cheek.
I crack up laughing. “The Peter Pan wants Captain Hook’s daughter without a catch. That’s funny.” I yell so everyone in NeverLand can hear.
“Don’t bother I already put a sleeping spell on them. They’ll be awake in the morning and that’s when the fun begins.” Pan says with a chuckle.
“I understand your a blood thirsty demon. But I mean why risk your Lost Boys lives. My father is Captain Hook, and He would be stupid to not tell me your little tricks.”
“You won’t see the Lost Boys. You’re sticking with me so nothing happens.” He says sternly. He ties my wrists to my back and throws me into a rusty boat.
I slowly fall asleep.
My head hurts but I sit up. My hands are out of the uncomfortable ropes. Yet I sit in a tent with a bed. Something moves next to me. ‘What the hell is going on’ I think to myself as I look to my side.
Pan lays right next to me arms around my waist. ‘Y/N why is he shirtless. Again why the hell am I here’.
I try to slowly tear Pan’s arms off of me. He groans as I turn to tear him off of me. “You know I’m just going to do it quick.” I whisper tearing his arms off and start walking out of the tent.
“Y/N come back here. I know you don’t feel like killing lost boys today.” Peter groans into his pillow. “Just get back in bed.” I awkwardly stare back at him. He gets up and sighs in frustration. “Fine we’ll do it your way and get up.” He gets his shirt on as I laugh.
Sure he was evil but hey he was funny, in a “I’m not trying” way.
The morning was peaceful and uneventful just like I like it. Everyone was pretty nice and like “oh yeah your our prisoner um… I guess your cool”.
It was a month by now and no one had come for me. It was now normal I stayed in Peters tent but I slept on the ground.
“Peter.” I whisper huddling in my thin blanket.
“Yeah.” He mumbles looking at me.
“It’s freezing down here could I sleep in the bed with you?” I ask slightly blushing.
He moves to the side and opens the blankets.
I nuzzle in and awkwardly as he spoons me. “You know this is why I gave you that thin blanket.” He laughs.
The next day me and Pan walk through the woods alone. As he talks about the battles he’s had with my father. “Killian is a monster. It doesn’t shock me he hasn’t come back to get you.” Peter says with a slight evil smirk.
“I guess he did tell me you were a demon so I mean I don’t blame you for hating him. But you know he’s my father I can’t really hate him.” I say awkwardly putting my hands in my pockets.
“C'mon you can’t believe he’s coming back.” He smiles looking me deep in the eyes.
“Why do you so desperately want me to not believe in my father Peter?” furrowing my eyebrows Peter just stares at me.
“You have potential Y/N.” He says simply. His face comes closer to me by every word he says. “Once you give up on that pathetic pirate. You can stay with me, and I can kill him without you caring. That way he can die knowing I took all that’s left of his.” He smiles sickly as his lips touch mine.
I refuse to give in, but he obviously wasn’t ready to give up. “Pan get off me! One, your not killing my father! Two, I would never choose YOU over my family. My family may be pirates but I’m going to live with that. Three, I do admit I do like you Peter but I don’t like this new Peter I’m seeing. Just take me home.” He looks at me with an evil grin. “Please. The only way I’ll be happy now is at home.” I look at the ground as a tear falls to the ground.
He laughs. “This is your home now Y/N! I’m not taking you back there until your in love with me and don’t want to leave.”
“You are a demon Peter! My father was right! Your a coward with no regards for the people you love!” I scream disappearing at my own will.
I appear on the ship I know left from right. Away from Pan and my father guiding the ship. “Y/N! We were just about to go rescue you!” My father smiles ear to ear running over to me and squeezing me.
“He is a demon! I’m sorry for leaving you here.” I cry.
“We just awoke. Peter must have put a curse or something on us.” He says still not letting me go.
“It was part of his plan. He wants to kill you. He wants me to fall in love with him so everything you loved is taken away from you when you die. He truly is a monster.” I say holding right onto him.
The day continues. And I feel at home. Hearing the wind howl and hair in my face felt amazing.
The sun began to set as me and my father watched the sky turn into a pink color. No words were said and we could just sit together peacefully. “I haven’t felt at home in so long father. I’m glad I’m back.” I smile looking over at him.
“I’m so glad your back to. It hurts me so much to think you were used like that.” He frowns looking deep into my eyes.
A chill fills my body that was to familiar. My worst nightmare standing in front of us. “Isn’t this so sweet.” Pan smiles. “But everything sweet comes to an end. Let’s go Y/N.”
“Why would she go with you when you used her like that.”
“She loves me.” Pan smirks. “Even though she won’t admit it. I see it, and she knows I love her too.”
I quickly stand up dagger in hand. “I would never love a monster like you.” I push it through his arm as all my stress dies down.
He tears it out not flinching.
“I will be back for you Y/N if it’s the last thing I do.” Peter growls disappearing in smoke.
My father holds me close and sighs.
‘part two of you would like’
People, I’ve been so preoccupied with the wonderful Check, Please fandom, writing CP fics, and general American politics-based depression (GOD!) that I completely forgot it was the one year anniversary of the first real Hannigram fic that I wrote. This was written on January 18, 2016 and it was my first long-ish fic. My writing for Hannigram was so new, it wasn’t even posted on this Tumblr– it was only on AO3. So, to remember nice things (instead of the impending dumpster fire that is today) here is my first Hannibal fic. Forgive the voices, it was totally a Hannigram newbie work, but here is my eldest child.
Summary: “Help me fix this boat engine,” he said. “It’ll be fun,” he said… Hannibal gets roped into helping Will repair a boat engine, all in the name of coupledom. For @devereauxsdisease This entire thing was inspired by one photo. This photo:
“Supporting your mate with their hobbies is what most couples do, you know.”
“We are not like most couples, Will.”
“How many times have I gone to the opera with you?” Will asked with an eyebrow raised.
Hannibal sat at the edge of their bed, pretending to try to count on one hand.
“That damn Wagner one was five hours long, Hannibal. FIVE HOURS.”
Hannibal was about to respond something along of the lines of how Will had seemed to actually enjoy it but seeing him look so divine in their bed, the covers pulled up to his waist, shirtless, holding a cup of coffee, hair adorably mussed, he knew he’d have to give in and not challenge him on this.
“I’m not asking you to eat a fast food hamburger, for Christ’s sake. I’m just asking you to come and spend time with me in the garage. I have this old motor I picked up last week, and I’m excited about working on it. We need to do more things together–”
Hannibal opened his mouth to speak and instantly Will jumped in, “And sex doesn’t count.”
Hannibal closed his mouth and slightly pursed his lips.
Will added, “I mean, that’s not what I mean. Of course it counts, it counts. I love it. You know I love being with you, but I just feel we should do more things that don’t involve sex or food or murder – or all of your things.”
Hannibal sat on the edge of the bed looking at Will, looking at him.
“It’ll be fun.” Will parted his lips and bit his bottom one, looking at Hannibal while slightly tilting his head, sweetly holding his coffee mug closer to his face. Victory was his, he could tell.
“I suppose I could assist you. It could be very educational…I am sure you are well aware that I do not have any clothes appropriate to work in.”
Will smirked and said, “Too bad the murder suit is out of commission. You can wear some of my old clothes. They might be snug but I certainly won’t complain.”
Hannibal’s lips quirked slightly as he leaned over to take Will’s mug for a sip of his coffee.
Look at that rusty god, petting the boats, soaking his feet, washing off meaningless bell rings and prayers full of saw dust.
Look at his smile and the tear in the corner of his eye, he is old now. Old enough to know he is not infinite and the hand of all shall claim him.
“Was he good or bad?” I can only see the marks he left in greys and gold- I must say, I do not know.
“Where should we scatter his remains?” In the cage of my grief, I’ll lock up the cruisades and in the yard, by the flowers, I’ll plant the love and faith.
“Do you think he is afraid?” The other mayors of life are angry the prophets said: too much fame and not enough will power, look at those illuminated wanderers, clawing at the gates, look at all the bad he wouldn’t cast away.
“How will we commemorate?” Like all the golden empires that have fallen into the crack of time, his footprint will bruise us and we’ll touch it to remember where the glorious pain stroke us.
“How will we forgive?” With him gone, will we have to?
My not so objective views on THE BEST OF SEASON TWO. There are still two episodes to go as I post this and I am positive I will have outstanding additions to this list soon. Please add comments on other items you think should be added.
James Spader’s acting throughout the season. If no Emmy nomination is received it is a travesty.
Opening Music (ZZ Top - LaGrange) in Lord Baltimore.
Music selection overall during the season. Other posts have documented all of the songs used.
“You Were Born” sequence in The Front, including Red watching the old home movie.
Fitch’s head blown up in The Decembrist
The wonderful Lizzington scene “Nothing is wrong with you” at the end of The Decembrist.
Every scene Mr Kaplan is in.
The Gene at the DMV scenes.
Red’s story on the value of loyalty in Dr James Covington. A very revealing item about Red.
Dembe’s backstory and how Red saved him in Mombasa Cartel.
Red having the door slammed in his face by Hascal in Linus Creel…he was so embarrassed in front of Lizzie. It was so endearing.
Red in that grey suit on the board walk, talking to Berlin about passion.
Red’s “hideous fish” story in Braxton 1. The key to understanding Red.
How lovely it was when Red and Lizzie were together in Braxton 1.
The memory recall sequence in Braxton 2. Little was learned, but it was so well done and fascinating.
Red’s “My God it taste’s so good!” comments in Braxton 2.
Red offering the tainted water to the company executive in Rusian Denisov and the look of pride and love on Lizzie’s face when he does it.
Tango scene in Rusian Denisov.
That indescribably beautiful moment when Red speaks Lizzie’s name right before death in Earl King.
Car scene where Lizzie tells Red she cares about him and he better learn to deal with it. A tiny peak into Lizzie’s heart.
The shooting of Red in Vanessa Cruz, and how Lizzie responds.
Lizzie going to Red’s side in the OR, hands on his chest, bloody hands holding Red’s hand, in Leonard Caul.
The fight/gun battle sequence in Leonard Caul.
Red’s Marathon Man monologue in Quon Zhang. Priceless.
Red and Lizzie’s talk about her mother in Quon Zhang. I held my breath throughout.
Finally getting answers to many, many questions, with more to come.
In Tom Connolly, Lizzie’s memory of shooting her Dad and (more important) recognizing that Red is not the man she thought he was. Oh the feels! Great song selection also.
Also in Tom Connolly, The sweet, sweet, sweet Lizzington moment when Lizzie rests her head on Red’s shoulder and they both look so contented.
The end of Daddygate, at least for any rational person. But until it is made clear why Red felt he needed to protect Lizzie, what other mysteries, some will still insist.
THE WORST OF SEASON TWO:
Tom’s miracle cure in the rusty boat.
That awful “behind the door” promo by NBC.
Ressler’s drug addiction story arc.
Too much Lizzie anger at Red. Too long, and too unrelenting. Was exhausting, at least for me.
Use of Tom as foil against Red…as someone for Lizzie to run to. Character’s baggage from Season 1 interfered with accepting this without simultaneously hurting Lizzie’s character.