I think one of the things that makes Azula so amazing as a villain and a character is that her breakdown is foreshadowed by her earliest episodes. All the pieces are on the board at the very start, you just don’t realize it. So when the breakdown comes it’s all full of callbacks to earlier behavior and it suddenly feels utterly natural that this person you’ve seen as a nigh-untouchable badass mastermind is coming so undone. It doesn’t come out of nowhere, it was there all along from the very start and we simply forgot about it in the interim because she was being so badass and it had no reason to take effect just yet.
–Her speech to the captain about the tides foreshadows her banishing all her servants and advisors. The captain is totally honest with her despite being scared, that they’re not bringing the ship in just yet because of an issue with the tides. Tides are BIG deal in regards to bringing in a ship but Azula doesn’t care and simply wants her will done now and makes it clear she will harm or kill the captain if he doesn’t do the thing he knows is a bad idea. The man is not delaying for silly reasons or to hide a mistake, he is genuinely making a sound decision about how to bring a ship into port, Azula simply doesn’t care she wants what she wants done now and treats disagreement as disloyalty. Azula perceives anyone subordinate as not doing what she wants for any reason at all to be proof they’re not perfectly loyal.
–The one hair out of place with Lo and Li training her. It shows Azula as a perfectionist, and again, as a control freak. She cares about appearences, which probably ties into her status as a prodigy who has long been praised for being such. She needs to make it look effortless and perfect. But after Boiling Rock this starts to slide. In The Southern Raiders he hair comes down fully during her fight with Zuko and she doesn’t even care–hell, she can’t do anything to fix it since she needs her hand to hang onto the mountain. Then in the finale her hair is an utter disaster, showing just how far she’s fallen. Once again it fully comes down while she’s fighting, and by the time the fight is over and Katara has her restrained she’s a total mess.
–Recruiting Ty Lee. This is where we should have known from the start that Ty Lee’s loyalty to Azula is not absolute by any means. Ty Lee wanted to stay with the circus and only left because of Azula clearly threatening her by having the net set on fire. We see it again in Zuko Alone’s flashbacks, where Azula is obviously jealous of Ty Lee being able to do better gymnastics than her and bullies her for it. Ty Lee is only with Azula out of fear and always has been. Of course if it came down to Azula or Mai she’d choose Mai.
–Recruiting Mai. It’s even more subtle than with Ty Lee but they show why Mai will eventually betray Azula in the same episode Mai debuts in. When Tom-Tom, Mai’s little brother, is in danger and a hostage, Azula makes it clear she doesn’t give a shit about that and that the deal should be off Mai’s not as open as Ty Lee is so she doesn’t seem to react as much but it’s the same situation. Azula wants Mai on her team and doesn’t care what happens to people Mai probably cares about. Thing is, the person Mai cares about most is Zuko, who Azula is hunting. Mai betraying Azula for Zuko becomes more and more of a given as the show establishes Mai’s feelings for him. Meanwhile Azula probably assumed that if Mai was willing to endanger her own little brother for Azula, there would be no conflicts of loyalty regarding Zuko…and was wrong. As Mai said, she miscalculated.
It was all there right from the start of season 2.
Solitude is the center of Imperial power in Skyrim, and has traditionally had strong ties to the Empire. Many of the city’s Jarls were connected to the Septim bloodline. General Tullius commands the Imperial army from the stone-walled Castle Dour, while Solitude’s Jarl, Elisif, resides in the Blue Palace. Solitude is also a major shipping port and important Imperial supply line, which is run by the Imperial-financed East Empire Company.
Characters: Bucky Barnes, Natalia Romanoff, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Peter Parker
Warnings for this fic: Angst, eventual smut in future chapters (slow burn), running away, profanity, violence.
Word count for this chapter: 1,759 (IM SORRY)
Captain James ‘Bucky’ Barnes was a peculiar man, how he sailed the seas for most of his 27 years. He was born at sea, he would most likely die at sea. All pirates, including those in the farthest corners of the maps, had heard of the infamous Captain. You? You were the governor’s daughter, secretly hoping to be taken out to seas and to be set free.
“Why are you looking at me like that, dear?” Your father asked, his face bearing confusion.
“Oh, do excuse me father, I was.. day dreaming… may I be excused from the dinner table?” Your father gave you a curt nod as you exited the dining hall. Your father was a Governor, therefore you lived in a luxury house, big enough to fit a whole crew of men, you could wonder the premises for hours, but growing up doing just that deemed you bored, trapped even.
Living in Port Royal gave you barely any benefits, indeed, there were beautiful landscapes to be painted, warm sand beaches to be walked upon, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted to explore further than the village fences, the harbor docks, into the sea that waved at you, tempting you to come closer, closer. You would give anything to be set free of the corsets and the courtship, to be free to roam the ocean as you please, discovering new places and the thrill of being a…nevermind.
You had heard stories of countless pirates, Captain Tony Stark of the Mighty Veronica, a large ship painted crimson and gold, with white sails and cannons filled with such powerful gunpowder one hit from a three barrel could split another vessel in half. From Captain Rogers, an ex-commodore, to Captain Romanoff with co-Captain Barton, better known as the Hawkeye of the seas due to his skills as a perfect shot with a pistol, you had heard extraordinary things from the men that survived on.
As a little girl, you were brought up by the maids in the household as your mother had died during childbirth. You barely left the god-forsaken island, it was very rare to go on even a short voyage with your father and his men, ’having a woman on board is bad luck.’ and only to return empty handed and deprived of proper contact with the outside world.
You were sheltered and innocent, men of the guard pined after for you since you grew a bust and shed your baby fat, you understood the means of their stares after you asked your chambermaid, Marie, what it meant to be a ‘tight little virgin’ as the men would whisper amongst themselves as you walked by. You knew very well what a kiss was, in fact, you had had a kiss indeed, your dear childhood friend Peter Parker had bestowed a secret kiss upon you on your 16th birthday, underneath the main dock, though there was no 'spark’ on your end, therefore you had to tell him that his feelings were unrequited, he never stopped being your friend, though.
You came to know Peter after you had saved his life, he had been thrown overboard from the ship he had been sailing on, alongside his father, had been blown up from the below deck gunpowder barrels.
“Father, look, a boy!” You had gasped, your father had rushed to your side and bellowed man overboard, a team of men upon the vessel had reeled him in and left him under your charge.
He was handsome, to say the least, as your hand brushed his forehead, he grabbed your wrist-
“I’m Y/N Y/L/N, I’m watching over you.” You spoke in a hushed tone.
The boy had coughed out a spluttered 'Peter Parker’ before falling unconscious once more.
Bucky Barnes was many things, wealthy, handsome, 'built like god himself’ as some women would say as he swaggered past them in the night, also a skilled thief nonetheless. But he was a shell of a man, plagued by the things he witnessed whilst sailing the doldrums of the ocean. As he moored his ship by the docks of Port Royal he briefly tipped the manager and his assistant a shilling each to keep their mouths shut about him and his men, and that his name was Captain William Pintel, he had ordered his crew to change the sails to white before they got anywhere near the border of the island the sails to white so they could conceal their identities.
He had come to trade, to drink, and maybe get a little bit of action for the night before being on his way to Haiti. He was a wanted man, he had liberated slaves when he was not supposed to, and that resulted in him becoming branded a pirate. The brand grew on him, and he became exactly what he was called, he had grown tired of trying to be the perfect man of the sea and broke the code instead, he sought trouble wherever he went and that was his way of living.
Though Port Royal was not a large area, it was densely populated and it was guarded heavily, with men walking around the village with their guns and bayonets. Bucky had his head hung low as he made his way through the crowds with one of his men, Sam, a man of colour whom Bucky had freed alongside the rest of the slaves.
He needed a sword.
You looked out of your window to see a dark ship rolling towards Port Royal, you could see the white sails calling to you at your bedroom window. The temptation to leave everything behind was screaming at you, beckoning you to go, liberty was practically screaming your name, bobbing up and down, you needed a disguise, you couldn’t board that bloody ship wearing a dress like this, it would blow your cover.
You had hastily run to your kitchen and fetched a satchel and filled it with essentials. you escaped out of your household in seconds towards the blacksmiths, where Peter should be. As you neared the large wooden doors of the building, you peaked through the gap and saw nothing, heard nothing, even. So you pushed open the door, he wasn’t there, you checked in the back room where he stayed; nothing, you rummaged through a small crate and found a pair of trousers and a shirt, you slipped off your dress and underclothes and shoved them under the bed, freeing your hair from its pins and letting it fall loosely on your shoulders and changed into the borrowed clothing..
You left the room feeling a little lighter, but a weight fell onto your shoulders as you realized you needed to tell Peter where you were going, being your best friend, he deserved to know, he didn’t deserve to worry. You grabbed a piece of parchment and a bottle of ink and a quill.
I’m sorry but by the time you read this I will be gone, I’m boarding a ship at the dock and never returning, I plan to find a new life, to branch out and roam the world to no end. I hate to leave you behind, I love you very much- the ship is black with white sails, it has a red star on the side also, if you ever need to find me, look for it.
All my love,
P.s. Please, don’t tell my father.
You could heard the door begin to open and you legged it to the back door, you didn’t know who it was but you prayed to the gods it wasn’t Peter, it was too soon, and it was easy for him to spot you in a crowd, he would catch you instantly, so you ran.
Bucky sauntered into the deserted blacksmiths, he peaked around to see if anyone was in there, but it was silent, he could smell the burnt out coal and could tell it had been deserted for hours, though, he came across a freshly written letter and noticed that his ship was mentioned in said letter. He was aware he was a wanted man, what if this was a trap? What if the company knew he was here? Breadcrumbs, you had accidentally left the first, so he took the affects he needed and ran towards his ship.
A girl upon my ship, this should be interesting… Bucky thought to himself.
As he arrived to the dock he could see the red faced manager run to him, “Captain Pintel!! A girl… has boarded… your ship… Sir!!” He huffed, Bucky pushed him aside and climbed onto his vessel, making sure he was as silent as a mouse.
He looked everywhere, and there was no sign of a girl. None of his crew saw a tresspasser, and begin to move the ship out of the dock on captain’s orders.
You tried to still your breathing as you saw the handsome man search upon his ship for the intruder, you were hiding behind a rum barrell as he neared. You could hear his footsteps come to a halt, thinking he had given up, then you felt yourself being yanked up by the collar of your shirt, being pushed again the wall of the ship. His large hand came up and his fingers wrapped around your throat as the other rested against the sword handle on his belt all you could do was stand there.
He was strong, you dared not to move an inch incase he added pressure to the hand on your throat. You mapped his features; dark hair, full lips, tantalizing blue eyes, you realied who this man was, it was Captain James Barnes, the most wanted man on the map, you knew this because you heard stories around the village, from men and women alike.
“Well, well, well, what pretty little thing do we have here?” He smirked, bringing a finger to tease one of your locks, “what’s your name, doll?”
“Y/N Y/L/N, s-sir.” You spluttered, you brought your hands up to try and pry his one off your throat.
“Uh-oh.. the Governor’s daughter, hm? Tsk tsk, oh darling, you’re in for a- you shouldn’t dig your nails into my skin, sweetheart, I saw your little letter in the blacksmiths and I won’t hesitate to take you back sweetheart, or maybe… dump you in the middle of the ocean?” He inhaled and tightened his grip around your throat, and narrowed the proximity between both your faces.
“Please- Sir I’ll do anything, please just let me come with you.” You hoped he wouldn’t turn out too bad, if he let you stay, but if he didn’t…
“Well, miss Y/L/N, welcome aboard the St. Brooklyn…”
A/N SOOOO that was the first chapter i hope you like it if people want me to continue im gonna need hella motivation!
Chalcedony Statuette of a Herm of Herakles, Roman Imperial, 2nd Century AD
While sculptures of bronze and marble are among the most well-known artistic legacies of Greece and Rome, ancient artists also produced fine works of sculpture in other materials such as terracotta, ivory, gold, silver, glass, and rare or semi-precious stone. Some artists possessed the remarkable skills needed to transform hard stone into miniature sculpture worthy of comparison with the finest works in bronze and marble. This extraordinary and finely made statuette of Herakles is just such an object. It stands out as a masterwork, even when considered among the small number of other stone statuettes that are known, and testifies to the superior talent of artists who created such luxuria during the Roman Imperial Period. This type of herm representing Herakles first appears in the Greek Hellenistic period and becomes prevalent during Roman Imperial times. This herm is supported by a golden pedestal of 18th century date, following a custom of the time for mounting such rare objects.
The last place Clarke expected to run into anyone she knows is the literal middle of the ocean, but the cruise ship has barely left port before she spots a familiar head of tousled curls ahead of her in the crowd.
She loses sight of him before she can get a good look, so she chalks it up to her imagination. It’s entirely possible that Bellamy is on the same cruise she is– they did, after all, both just graduate, and therefore have the same budget and scheduling constraints– but she tells herself it probably isn’t him. And that even if it is him, it’s not like they’re going to run into each other.
So of course the next day she’s on one of the decks by the pool when a shadow falls over her and his voice says, “Is this chair taken?”
Clarke pushes her sunglasses up on top of her head and wrinkles her nose at him.
“I don’t know, I my tiara really ought to have a chair of its own.”
Bellamy smirks and sits on the edge of the chair, not moving her stuff– not yet– but settling in to bicker with her. As is their custom.
She and Bellamy were RAs in the same dorm two years ago, and they had differing ideas at first about how hands-on they needed to be with their freshmen. Despite the way they picked at each other, by the end of the year they’d become reluctant allies, his calling her ‘Princess’ taking on less of a sneer and more of a teasing edge, her comebacks laced with a smile. They had each other’s backs.
But she didn’t re-up her RA contract for her senior year, and he did, and they’re not the type of friends to outright admit they miss each other, so she hasn’t seen nearly as much of him in the past couple of semesters as she would like.
“You here with Wells?”
“And Raven,” she nods. “I was saving those seats for them, but I’m pretty sure they ditched me to have tiny cabin sex.”
“O and Lincoln ditched me pretty fast too. I think they’ve all forfeited their right to a saved seat,” he grins, passing her bag back to her. The way he lounges back in the chair, skin already browning, wind ruffling his hair, he looks like something straight out of an ad. Or Clarke’s fantasies. Either one, really.
Just because she used to think he was a Class-A dick (which he is, but not in the way she thought. In the fun way.) doesn’t mean she’s never noticed how great his hands are, or how he’s got perfect hair for pulling, or how there’s probably more than one way to wipe a smirk off his face.
“Sure, make yourself at home,” she grumbles. He grins at her and pulls his shirt off, which is– honestly just so unfair.
So, since I actually work around boats all day and also have a thing for blathering about the voidfaring life, here’s a few things I wanted to share that maybe other people might find helpful for adding some realism and believability to their own fictions involving the same things.
Naming Conventions: Ships are often referred to incorrectly in fiction. A ship’s name does not have “the” in front of it, unless that is actually part of the name of the vessel. Example sentence:
Correct: Vengeful Spirit was an exceptional vessel, the only Scylla variant-build ever constructed of the ancient and intimidating Gloriana pattern.
Incorrect: The Vengeful Spirit awaited them, a hulking monstrosity cruising slowly just above atmos as she waited in low orbit.
Now, this is not a hard and fast rule. There is a time that you can call a ship “the -name-,” and that is if the ship has been destroyed/sunk/decommissioned, is a piece of history thought to be destroyed, etc. Examples of this: The Black Pearl, the Edmund Fitzgerald. Just be aware that, generally, if your ship in question is still in service and has not become a legend yet, she probably doesn’t have “the” in front of her name. However, you /can/ name a vessel The Fickle Female, or something like that,in which case “the” is part of the name and is fine. Also, pirate ships and privately-run vessels may have “the” in front of their names, though this can make them sound a bit hokey and corny. Another semi-exception is when using the vessel’s full name/title, example “the U.S.S. Enterprise” or “the H.M.S. Titanic” (although Titanic could also call under the “historical indicator from “the.” Passengers who are not familiar with shipfaring may also think of the vessel as “the Glorious Name,” but your crew, and most likely your omniscient narrator, would not.
Long story short? If your vessel left for her maiden voyage ten or a hundred years ago and hasn’t yet left service… no need for “the”– especially if it’s a crewman doing the talking.
Terminology: Ships have their own words for everything. Here’s a quick rundown:
Berth/Berthing: places where crew or possibly passengers sleep. Quarters: Same as above, but generally insinuating more luxurious accommodations. Bow: The front/nose of the ship, as a noun Stern: The rear/ass end of the ship, as a noun. Prow: The very front of the bow, the “nose” of a ship. Transom: The flat “ass” of a ship. Engines: Whatever makes your ship go. Boats may have motors, but ships have engines. Bulkhead: An interior wall of a ship. Gunwale: Pronounced “gunnel.” The outside “wall” of the ship as created by the hull. Hatch: A door or doorway. You can close a hatch or walk through a hatch. Hatchway: Doorway. You cannot “close” a hatchway, but only walk through it. Porthole: a window Ahead: To engage the engines in a way that the ship moves forward, as in “full steam ahead.” Astern: To engage the engines in such a way that the ship moves backward/in reverse. Deck: Any “floor” in or on the ship. Stuff you walk on. Topside/abovedecks: the “outside area” of a boat. Where you can stand and feel the air on your face. Belowdecks: “inside” the ship’s hull. “below” is a shortening of this. Bilge: A pump that removes water (or whatever) from inside the vessel. Scuttle: to trash something or throw it out. Scuttlebutt: Rumors and gossip, trashtalking. Galley: The kitchen. Head: bathrooms Bridge: The part of the ship where it is controlled. Helm: Phrase for describing the person actually controlling the ship’s movements. The person “at the helm” is the person making the decisions, not the person with the wheel in their hands. If your captain tells his first mate, “Six degrees to starboard, steady on”, the captain is at the helm. If the first mate is making that decision himself because the captain can’t, he’s “at the helm.” Moorings: attachment to a dock. “moored” meaning attached in this way. Flotsam: Stuff floating in the water, or in space. Masts: Big posts that sails fly from. Boom: Big post going across the mast that sails attach to. Make fast: tie shit down Eye: a round thing to tie to or pass a rope through. Cleat: a thing for tying shit to. Lines: Ropes. Hold: Any large space inside of a ship to put shit, or “stow” it.
There’s lots more, and lots if you want to get into sailing vessels involving the names for the different sails and masts and such, but this is enough to get you started.
Directions and time:
Ships have their own way of designating the “directions” on the ship. Aft and stern are not synonyms: aft is a direction, the stern is the actual physical part of the ship. Same with forward and bow.
Forward: The “front” direction, anything from the middle of the ship to the very tip of the prow.
Aft: The ass end direction. Anything from the middle to the very farthest back part of the ship.
Port: If you are standing on the ship and looking forward, this is going to be on your left. It’s easy to remember because “left” and “port” both have four letters.
Starboard: Pronounced “starberd.” The “right” side of the ship, if you are standing on the ship, looking forward. Two R’s in starboard– “right.”
This is helpful in writing because you can use these words to describe how your characters move about their surroundings, IE, “She looked up, lost, heading what she assumed was aftward.”
Ships generally have their own clock and specific time. Even today in real life, submarines will have their own times and clocks, often with each crewmember on his own clock.
Summary: Idk people, talk about the cool shit in your spaceships more! Hope this helped.
bonus track - ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . we are the hearts - exgf . monsters - ruelle . bottom of the river - delta rae . cough syrup - young the giant . all those friendly people - funeral suits . who’s with us - current swell . comes and goes (in waves) - greg laswell . the ship in port - radical face . whisper - the dear hunter . the kids aren’t alright - fall out boy . renegades - x ambassadors . the funeral - band of horses . youth - daughter . use somebody - scala & kolacny brothers . home ii - dotan . young volcanoes - fall out boy . this is gospel - panic! at the disco . the greatest - sia . byegone - volcano choir . sleep in the heat - pup . long live - taylor swift (ft. paula fernandes on spotify)
Mr. Hamilton asks her to marry him so often it becomes a game. “Marry me, Miss Barlow,” he’ll say when they step together in a dance, smiling at her as the dance separates them.
“I couldn’t marry you today,” she’ll reply when the music joins them again, and his palm presses lightly against hers. “You will note the stormclouds.”
“The rain would not do,” Mr. Hamilton will agree, hers for a few more measures. “Perhaps next week, when the weather clears?”
“Certainly not,” Miranda will say, and caress his thumb briefly with her own, risking the scandalized eye of Lady Heyward. “I could never marry under clear skies.”
James books their passage under the names of Mr. and Mrs. McGraw, and although she understands the necessity–she won’t be parted from him, any more than he’ll be parted from her, and not even the relaxed atmosphere of a merchant vessel bound for Port Royal will allow Mr. McGraw and Mrs. Hamilton to share a cabin–she hates it. James is not her husband, although she’s never loved him more than she does now, the way misery loves grief.
She’ll never have a husband again.
Miranda refuses to marry Mr. Hamilton twice at the opera with the Dudleys, much to their amusement, but she takes his arm and arranges things so the two of them are side by side in the Dudleys’ box. He murmurs softly to her for the duration of the play, clever and wicked by turns, and she had him only the day before, on his knees in Duke R––’s library, but she’s already desperate to have him again.
“Oh, marry me, Miranda,” he says with amused frustration when the night is over, but the conversation is not. “Come home and talk with me until we’ve put Caccini thoroughly to bed.”
“Perhaps tomorrow, Mr. Hamilton,” Miranda says gently, and hopes that her eyes are promising him what she cannot, in their company–that she will give him whatever he likes in private, but she is clever enough to recognize the jaws of marriage, its unyielding bite. She has a few years yet before she must step into the trap.
On the ship from Port Royal to Nassau, no one cares what their names are, or who shares her bed. She lies in the living dark of the ship at night–the men at watch walking above her head, the groaning communion of the ship and sea an endless chorus–and smooths her hand over James’s hair, mindless and repetitive. He’s awake, but quiet, his breath warm on the bare skin of her stomach.
The last thing Thomas said to her was Take care of James.
“I love you,” she says to the man in her bed.
“I would never trap you,” Thomas swears in her bed, tender and relentless. “Would you trap me?”
“Never,” Miranda says, pressing a brief kiss to his knuckles. “But it would not be the same. You would always have power over me.”
He looks at her, very serious. “Would you like power over me?” he asks.
James Flint murders a man at her word, and then returns to her, like an animal at the end of its chain.
He tells her that Alfred Hamilton begged for his life. He tells her that her mother-in-law was there on the ship, too, and he did not spare her. His voice shakes in the telling, and she kisses him for it.
Thomas died alone, in a cold, dark place. Captain Flint is bloodstained and grim in her arms, and she loves him, she loves him, she loves him.
Thomas gives her a ring, a household, the promise of a title, and a small bundle of letters that would ruin him utterly if they fell into the wrong hands. He places them in hers with terrifying ease. “Come live with me,” he says, grinning like he’s won, like she’s won, like they’ve triumphed over an enemy together, “and be my love.”
A year into their marriage, Miranda throws the letters into the fire.
James comes home after a two month voyage and kisses her clumsily at the door, purple shadows under his eyes. She manages to get him to take off his boots before he falls into bed, but he’s too exhausted to remember his belt, or his coat. He’s asleep almost as soon as he lies down, and she sits down beside him, feels a rush of affection so strong it feels like fury.
Oh, she thinks, looking down at the wounded face she knows as well as her own. You are all I have in the world.
The affection dims under the weight of the thought.
“… find you guilty of improper behavior. We expect your answer to these charges at the High Tide Reception next month during the
full moon. Yours in evil…”
The lich finished reading the letter of complaint as Atticus popped its neck into place, relieving a tremendous and uncomfortable pressure. “This note, Atticus! I can’t believe they sent this!”
“Spoil? Monsters?” Atticus mumbled to himself, repeating a passage.
“This is perfect, Atty!” a lake nymph cooed the next morning as the villain finished shampooing, deep conditioning, and styling her hair. He tied it back into two buns, using strands of kelp he had found in a far away sea. The unusual coloring complimented the nymph’s hairstyle and outfit perfectly.
“You seem a bit distracted, are you alright?” a forest spirit asked that afternoon as Atticus helped her gather autumnal leaves, sorting them by shape and color into organized piles. “Don’t eat those,” he chided gently after confessing his troubles, “or at least don’t eat all of them, we need a good blend if you want me to finish up these leaf crowns.”
“Do I spoil monsters?”
“Do I spoil monsters?” Atticus asked an undead waitress as she set down a plate that night. He hadn’t specified his order, he didn’t need to. Waffles, buttermilk, ectoplasm on the side, slightly overcooked. Coffee, void. Side of rotten fruit. Root beer float, grave dust flavor, as dessert, but only after his meal was finished and he had reached the second page of his newspaper. “Yes,” the waitress kissed his cheek, “and we spoil you, too.”
“It is a good thing, Atty,” a mermaid chimed the next morning as she and the villain watched the sun rise and various ships pull into the port. She handed him a storm in a bottle. “Are you a neutral party or do you work to serve monstrous interests?” She eyed the council’s ship with open hatred.
“I’ve been serving monstrous interests my entire life.”
“And why is spoiling us bad, anyway? Have you needs we are not meeting? Do we not love you as you love us?” The mermaid gently stroked his stubbled cheek.
The villain smiled, opened the bottle, and unleashed the maelstrom on the port. He laid his head on the mermaid’s shoulder and together they watched the destruction unfold.
Aye Captain? - Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester (Pirates of the Caribbean AU)
Title: Aye Captain?
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester x Reader, Jack Sparrow x Reader
Sam and Dean get sent to the potc universe, because of a certain
candy loving angel (aka Gabriel). And in order to get back to their
own time they have to go on a adventure. BUT the reader has already
been to the potc universe before, because before she met Sam and Dean
she was in a similar situation like this so she knows captain jack
when they are sent there she knows exactly what to do and the boys
are shocked that she’s been a pirate before. But reader is all
playfully smug and tries to teach the boys all she knows?
“I am so going to kill him. And this time I will make sure he stays dead!” Dean growled as he took a look around him and didn’t see anything familiar but his brother and you.
“You know it’s not going to work anyway.” Sam huffed as he ran a hand through his hair but Dean gave him a hard glare.
“Not the point Sam.” Dean grumbled and with a roll of your eyes you huffed.
“Exactly. Not the point Dean.” you gave him a look “Gabriel obviously wants to have fun and mess around. We don’t have to focus on how to get him back for it but on how to get back to our place.”
“How are we going to get back exactly when we don’t even know where we are?!” he exclaimed, giving you a look of disbelief and you huffed, rolling your eyes.
“I’m going to ignore the fact that you this clueless and go look for something. Just stay here, I might have the solution.” you didn’t leave him any room for him to speak back as you disappeared through the crowd and Dean only blinked.
For Anon who requested - “
could you write something with Reid and the reader going to disneyland? Maybe include the team too? Just pure fluff. :) Thank you!” I didn’t include the team but I hope you like it anyways!
Spencer had been waiting for a week like this one his whole life. A week with no phone calls or text messages from Garcia. No Avengers assembling. Just a week of absolute relaxation with Y/N. He had already told the people he was closest with that this week was when he would take the plunge. He went shopping with JJ for the perfect ring. He had everything all planned out.
Spencer and Y/N were absolutely perfect for another. They had met at the park where Y/N had beaten him at chess. He was flabbergasted the second she uttered the words “checkmate”. That moment was when he knew that he had to get to know her. And ever since then their lives had been absolutely perfect. Y/N was as sarcastic as he was awkward. She had as many tattoos as he had degrees. She was as abnormally clumsy as he was shy. On the other hand the two were both so selfless. They both were so caring and loving that they often times forgot to take care of themselves. They both loved each other wholeheartedly. They both wore their hearts on their sleeves. They both loved reading. They both had given themselves ulcers from drinking too much coffee while working on their dissertations. They were totally different people but they worked.
The two had been planning a week long trip to Disney World, ever since Y/N found out that Spencer hadn’t been to her absolute favorite place on earth. She couldn’t wait to take cheesy pictures with Mickey Mouse and the Princesses. She longed to show him her favorite ride, the Mad Tea Party. She wanted to create memories with Spencer that would last them a lifetime.
Y/N was ecstatic for the trip while Spencer was more nervous than he was when he had Anthrax poisoning and gotten shot combined. He had decided to propose on the first day there. They had just gotten to the hotel, Disney’s Polynesian Villas and Bungalows, and dropped off their luggage before heading to the bus which would take them to Magic Kingdom.
Spencer happily took pictures of Y/N with Mickey Mouse and Pluto. They went on Space Mountain while Spencer pointed out the flaws in the science. Spencer and Y/N walked around Sleeping Beauty’s cottage where Y/N was excitedly telling him about Aurora and Phillip. Spencer just held her hand and listened not bothering to attempt to tell Y/N that he knew the fairy tale. He would do anything to see her smile, her eyes shining with happiness and excitement. They got matching Mickey and Minnie ears at a gift shop. They took pictures with the Genie, one of Y/N’s favorite Disney characters. They got a caricature taken with Y/N being Jasmine and Spencer being Aladdin. Spencer and Y/N managed to do everything they wanted to. Spencer, although he didn’t tell her then, just did whatever Y/N wanted. Seeing her happy was all he needed to make this trip memorable.
That night Spencer had a dessert cruise on the Seven Seas Lagoon booked for the two. It had just gotten dark when the ship had set sail. As the ship left the port the pianist started to play Bella Note, a Disney classic, and coincidentally Y/N’s favorite song.
“Spencer, you didn’t have to do this” exclaimed Y/N, her voice oozing with glee.
“Yes I did Y/N. I would do anything to see you smile” said Spencer smiling at his hopefully future wife.
The two sat at the table they were seated to before the waiter brought them champagne and a massive slice of cheesecake.
“What’s this for?” asked Y/N. The waiter just smiled knowingly before leaving.
“What was that? Wait, why are your hands shaking?” questioned Y/N, her thoughts now directed to Spencer.
“Y/N, you know I love you right?” asked Spencer.
“Of course I know that Spencer, I love you too” replied Y/N looking at Spencer with a puzzled expression on her face.
“Dammit, I had this entire speech prepared but I can’t remember it now. Y/N, the day we met was one of the best days of my life and each day after that with you has been a dream. I love everything about you. How you read to me when I’ve come back from a difficult case. How you get along with my friends and my mom. How you straighten my ties every morning before I leave. I love how you wake up to say goodbye to me even if it’s 3 in the morning. The one thing that would make me happier is if you would be my wife so that we can start a whole new world together” said Spencer as he got down on one knee and took out the ring.
Y/N with tears streaming down her face nodded before saying, “Yes, of course I’ll marry you”.
Spencer took the ring out of the box and slid it onto her left hand ring finger as people in the background cheered. Y/N, with her converse clad feet, stood on her toes to press her tear stained lips to Spencer’s. As their lips eagerly collided, their cheeks flushed and their breaths deepened. Spencer and Y/N could see camera’s flash in their peripheral views and fireworks sparkling in the night sky but none of that mattered to the two, one entangled in the loving arms of the other.
A/N I hope you like this anon! I finish Final’s on the 23rd so after that I will be free to write more! Send in any requests you have and I hope ya’ll enjoy!
Tacos al pastor, is a dish developed in Central Mexico, shawarma spit-grilled meat brought by the Lebanese immigrants to Mexico. Being derived from shawarma, it is also similar to the Turkish döner kebab and the Greek gyro. Although shawarma and döner are usually lamb-based (thus the “shepherd-style” name), gyros and tacos al pastor in Mexico are pork based. In some places of northern Mexico, as in Baja California, this taco is called taco de adobada.
Lebanese immigration to Mexico started in the 19th and early 20th centuries see Lebanese Mexicans. In 1892, the first Lebanese arrived in Mexico from Beirut in French ships to Mexican ports. At that time, Lebanon was not an independent nation; the territory was governed by the Ottoman Empire for more than 400 years, but the empire was collapsing, which influenced the migration of many people. In the 1960s, Mexican born Lebanese migrants began opening their own restaurants, and morphing their heritage into Mexico.
Though grilling meat on a skewer has ancient roots in the Eastern Mediterranean with evidence from the Mycenaean Greek and Minoan periods,grilling a vertical spit of stacked meat slices and cutting it off as it cooks was developed in the 19th century in Ottoman Bursa current day Turkey. According to some sources, the Middle Eastern shawarma, Mexican tacos al pastor, and Greek gyros are all derived from the Turkish döner kebab, which was invented in Bursa in the 19th century by a cook named Hadji Iskender.
Well, I tried my hand at writing a small story for this anon! I’m not quite sure of the quality, but I hope you like it! If you know of any stories involving aliens and makeup, please reblog this and link them!
There were only two human crewmembers of the Explorer, and both of them were women. The rest of the crew, save for Vi, had never met a human before applying to join the Captain on her maiden voyage to the furthest reaches of space (Or rather, that one really good restaurant a few planets over, as their first stop turned out to be). As such, human traditions were quite the mystery, and one many of the crew wished to unravel.
Captain Amelie, a tall, adventurous human with very little understanding of the phrase ‘patience’, was the resident curiosity, for lack of a better phrase. Rita, the resident engineer, was persistent in her day-to-day routine, down to the minute, and her appearance was just one of the things that could be relied on to stay the same every day. Captain Amelie, however, seemed one big, rainbow-coloured ball of spontaneity.