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Hopping on the Vine compilation bandwagon, part 1/?

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Hannibal (2013-2015)

2x12 || 3x13

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so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

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silk dress, american, 1889.

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(I cannot photoshop)

A Tomione Titanic Au

He took stairs down to B deck, emerging near the landing, and exiting toward the starboard promenade. It was past twilight, the lights of the ship blurring on a wine dark calm sea.

And there she was.

Her hair was loose, escaping pins until curls were half tumbled down her back, earning askance glances from the businessman and family members taking a nightly stroll. A tired mother prompted a child to take one last look and come inside. The sea breeze cut through the enclosed promenade, brisk and refreshing, winter smothering the promise of spring.

She wore a pale blue gown, a bruise of a woman, who offered little warmth in her cutting glare.  

“You’re late,” she snarled.

Tom grinned, extracted a cigarette from his green and silver case, and offered her one. She shook her head and stared out at the sea. Tom watched the way the light fell on her hair. A dull, unattractive mousey brown from afar, but here, in more intimate quarter, it was a shimmering blend of fawn and whiskey and chestnut.

“I do have duties. You’re supposed to be enjoying the world class accommodations of a palace on the sea.” He smirked around the cigarette, the tobacco warm in his mouth.

“You could read the advertisements? Surprising.” There was no venom in her insult and he wagged a brow at her.

“Try again.”  

Hermione sighed. “That’s all for First class anyways.”

“You don’t enjoy your rooms? Mr. Ismay is aboard. I can complain to him.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Or your friend, Mr. Malfoy.”  Tom blew out the smoke, allowing it to drift in front of her before the wind snatched it away. She made a tsking noise and waved her hand irritably.

“You want to try it?”

“What do you want?” Not entirely willing to play his game then. A flare of irritation that he smothered with a lungful of tobacco. He didn’t need her completely. Her brother would do just fine.

“I need you to remember that we stop at Queenstown tomorrow. I could inform the purser, the captain, anyone that your husband was looking for you. They’d take you off when the last tender comes in.”

“You have no right.” Her bottom lip trembled, and he wanted to take her wobbling chin and grip it between his fingers. Hold it tight until she saw the reminder of how much she owed him on her skin in the mirror tomorrow.

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As , the United States, potentially heads into another forever war I can only think of this quote.

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shocking how much of writing is putting down a sentence and then thinking, "okay, but now a less shitty version of that"

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Cozy mystery, please.

Thank you for the ask!

I loathe to share a snippet because its all zero drafting. And we all know how I feel about my prose.

The set up is that Bella finds a body in her bookstore and coffee shop (and yes, I researched the margins on that one) and she doesn't want to investigate it on her own except she finds jewels on the body. And the cops are corrupt. And a handsome reporter just can't seem to keep away from her...

Just around seven o clock, when only a few people were coming in for book browsing or a hot chocolate, and Bella was building a display on holiday romances, a tall man entered. His jaw looked like it hadn’t seen a razor in several days, but couldn’t figure out how to come together as a beard. He stuffed a ski cap into his jacket pocket, a shock of dark hair, and dark eyes. His gaze landed on her and he smiled.

Bella’s knees threatened to knock together, and she silently told them to get ahold of themselves. She was too old for this nonsense. So what if a handsome man smiled at her?

“Hello, are you Annabella March?” she stared at him and he drew out a badge. “I’m Drew Wolfe, from the Daily News. I’m looking for the owner of this place.”

She frowned at him. “I’m she. What does the Daily News want with me?”

He grinned, rakishly. She placed the romance novel down on the table, the shirtless cover mocking her, even if it was only a cartoon. Drew somehow even resembled the man on the cover.

She needed to get out more.

“Well, there was a dead body found here this morning. I’d like to talk to you about it.”

Bella tittered. “It’s just a dead body. The police will have more information.”

“They have their story; I want yours.” His smile eased from charming to soothing. She hated that it worked on her, anxiety easing away, leaving only sweaty palms. And possibly sweaty hair. Maybe she’d blame that on the heater.  “The public deserves to know and we can’t trust our institutions to tell us.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong, but newspapers were owned by corporations and who know what their motivations were? Drew was looking around her shop, probably putting together a description that involved quaint or twee or cottage-core. Small town charm. She tried not to stick her tongue out.

“It’s just, you’re the third business in this area that has discovered a dead body, and no one will talk with us.”

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Violence set to happy music will never get old to me. Blood splattering to an 80s pop song is like a sister to me because I'm not allergic to fun.

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this is a poll for a movie that doesn't exist.

it is vintage times. the old hollywood studios, captivated by the electorate's previous casting of cinema classic dracula, have decided to celebrate jane austen's 250th by releasing an all-new vintage motion picture extravaganza based on her celebrated romance pride and prejudice. whoever is cast will impact the picture's tone and genre, so they are counting on you, the electorate, to deliver cinema magic.

you are the casting director for this star-studded epic. choose your players wisely.

This is one of many polls that will gradually drop over the next few weeks. You can find all the P&P polls under #pride and prejudice casting. If you need a reminder on who's who, here's the Wikipedia page listing the cast of characters.

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today I used the phrase "breasting boobily" in casual real life conversation and everyone was shocked asking how I came up with that and I had to explain it. ive been at the devil's sacrament so long that I forgot he wasn't god

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