Ok guys, I finally decided to put up a new, fully updated, better organized masterlist. This one has all I can fit, and is set up so the newest works are at the top of each respective list. I have begun to realize exactly how much work I've put into this blog, and just how many fics I've written. I'm kind of impressed with myself, but mostly I'm sentimental. I remember starting this blog three years ago (almost to the day) in a hotel my freshman year of high school. Now I'm headed off to college, and I get to see just how far I've come.
Key:
If I've missed anything, please tell me! Also alert me if links aren't working.
♡ smut
¤ headcanons
☆ fic
Jack Sparrow:
To Heal a Heart ☆ gn
Thalassophobia ☆ gn
Tame the Mermaid ☆♡ fem
Loneliness ☆♡ fem
Old Lovers ☆ gn
Modern! Jack ☆ gn
Vulnerability : Jack ¤ gn
Okay ☆ fem
Belonging ☆ fem
Tease ☆♡ fem
Confusing Relations ☆♡ fem
Drunken Confessions ☆ fem
Jack x Mermaid! Reader ☆ fem
Jack fluff ☆ gn
James Norrington:
Capture pt. 2 ☆ transmasc
Enby x James ☆ emnby
A Little Music ☆ fem
Pirate ☆ gn
Being James' Daughter ¤ fem
Norri going out with his men ¤
Impulse ☆♡(implied) fem
Autumnal Norri HCs ¤
The Smuggler ☆ enby
New York ☆ fem-ish, can be read as gn
Capture ☆ transmasc
NSFW Alphabet James ¤♡ fem
Tension : James ¤♡ fem
Twenty-First Century ☆ fem
Wanted ☆ enby
The Captain’s Lieutenant pt. 2 ☆ masc
The Captain's Lieutenant ☆ masc
Vulnerability : James ¤ implied fem, can be read as gn
James trying and failing to hide feelings ¤ fem
Norri Awkwardly Confessing ¤ fem
Norri's hugs ¤ gn
Dedication and Gentleness – Norri ¤ gn
Basketball Coach ¤
Prisoner pt.2 ☆ fem
Prisoner ☆ fem
The Problem With Youth ☆ fem
Wedding Night ☆♡ fem
Dad! Norri 2 ¤
Hurricane p2 ☆ gn
Second Choice ☆ fem
Hurricane p1 ☆ gn
Ballrooms and Battlefields ☆ fem
Norri x Pregnant! Reader ☆ fem
Norri x Navy! Reader ☆ fem
Dad! Norrington 1 ¤
Tortuga norri ¤ fem
James x reader ¤ fem
James unable to recognize his feelings ¤ gn
Elizabeth Swann:
Elizabeth's cuddles ¤ gn
NSFW Alphabet Elizabeth ¤♡ gn
Quiet Moments ☆ enby
Leaving ☆ gn
Lessons not Taught in School ☆♡ fem
Confusing Relations ☆♡ fem
Aquaphobia ☆ fem
Lesbian Lizzie ¤ fem
Wedding Drabble ☆ gn
Relationship with Lizzie ¤ gn
Will Turner:
Modern! Will ☆ gn
Not-So-White Christmas ☆ fem
Confusing Relations ☆♡ fem
Flirt ☆ fem
Bad Days ☆ fem
Beyond Childhood ☆ fem
Cutler Beckett:
A First Meeting ☆ fem
After Life ☆ fem
Modern! Beckett ☆ fem
Relationships : Beckett ¤ gn
NSFW Alphabet Beckett ¤♡ gn
Tension : Beckett ¤♡ gn
Vulnerability : Beckett ¤ gn
Loving and Loved ☆ fem
Found and Kept ☆ fem
Scarred and Scared ☆ fem
Colors ☆ fem
Kneel and Obey ☆♡(implied) fem
Salazar
Salazar x Pirate Hunter ¤ gn
Modern! Salazar ☆ gn
Vulnerability: Salazar ¤ gn
The Devil's Triangle ☆ fem
Bird ☆ fem
Barbossa:
Dad! Barbossa ¤ fem
Davy Jones:
(None, but coming soon)
The Estuary ☆:
These are in reverse order, with the bottom one being the first part
Full Circle
Elizabeth
Nothing to Give
Singapore
The Governor
The Dutchman
Stuck Between
Miniseries ☆:
These are in reverse order, with the bottom one being the first part. Fem Reader.
A Duel
A Dance to Remember
Bar Fight
Something Informative
A Gentleman?
First Encounters
Maybe you married James but he left and Cutler arrived but wait! James is back and alive! You thought he died.Or you're not married and the Governor's daughter and you agree to marry Beckett but then have always had a thing for James and when he comes back it's angst but then Beckett is like why not both?
Ok I'm actually such a slut for the 2nd idea because just....the pining, the repression from both you and James, trying to hide everything from your new husband, fearing his wrath....only for him to find out and be amused. Your shock at his cheekiness. The way he teases you for your attraction, simultaneously admitting how handsome he himself finds James. And oh, Cutler is vile, but you can't get the idea out of your head, and you only hope James will be amicable. Cutler goes as far as using it as a way to flirt, filling your head with scenarios just to see you hot and bothered. James, tentative at first, unable to shake the feeling of wrongness about the whole thing, but gaining slow confidence as time wears on. Cutler, who appears so blasé, whose deep insecurities you unearth over the course of the relationship. A softness you never expected from your husband, a sharpness you never expected from your lover. And the first time they kiss? Oh it makes your head spin in a way wine simply can't.
I cannot stop thinking about being with Cutler Beckett but also having a thing for James Norrington.
YOUR MIND. Genuinely I'm so shocked I haven't done this yet. It's a fantastic scenario. There's so much to explore here amongst the dynamics, especially since I love giving Cutler some vulnerability. Plus, we know James can have some bite when he wants to. Ugh, this'll be in my brain for a while.....I have other stuff I need to write first, and I'm in the process of moving back to school, BUT it'll happen. Probably as a short series, too.
I’m finally making my own one of these, drawing from a couple other lists that I found. I don’t talk about myself a lot on here, but I like to think that after four and a half years some people might be interested? In any case, feel free to reblog/use this yourself, and to ask me any other questions that come to mind. I’m curious as to what you’d like to know about me, if anything!
How tall are you?
What’s your favorite feature on yourself?
Where are you from?
Do you have any pets?
Do you have piercings/tattoos? Do you want any?
Favorite hobbies outside your blog?
Zodiac sign?
Favorite music artists?
Last song you listened to?
Last thing you wrote?
Favorite foods?
Are you a ‘has 7 drinks on them at all times’ kind of person? If so, what are your go-tos?
Favorite season?
Favorite weather?
Do you like dressing up, or are you more comfort oriented?
What’s one place you’d love to visit?
Somewhere you’d like to take a roadtrip to?
When did you start writing fanfic?
What’s a fanfic you’d like to write or some imagery you’d like to use?
What other fandoms are you in?
What type of character are you most drawn to?
Favorite thing to ramble about?
How many blankets/pillows do you sleep with?
How often do you listen to music?
What was the last book you read?
What’s the next book you want to read (or what’s on the list)?
Something on your bucket list?
What’s something you want to learn more about?
Do you have a favorite painting/artist? What emotions does the art evoke?
When was the last time you were hugged?
What’s your comfort show/movie?
What was your last dream?
A cute fact/memory about a friend.
Something flattering someone has said to you or assumed about you?
Latest obsession?
Favorite oddity about yourself?
Earliest memory?
What are your small comforts?
What things do you often use as inspiration for your art/writing?
What advice would you give your childhood self?
Ask a friend to describe you in five words or less and see what they come up with.
Good things you associate with your childhood?
How has your life changed from how you thought it would go when you were younger?
Describe a good/fun memory.
Make a moodboard that you think matches your vibe.
The reader is an employee of Beckett's, working as an entertainer to gather information at social events. While getting a little too close to clientele for Beckett's taste, you're pulled off to an unoccupied room so he can remind you exactly who's in charge. Of course, things get frisky from there.
Please note that the reader is fem. Also know that the fic features a heated makeout session and strip-tease, but no full nsfw content.
What first caught your eye was the rather loud waistcoat. Even from across the room, the amount of embroidery looked egregious. It was somewhat made up for by the tasteful choices in color, which managed not to clash with each other on the bright fabric. If the Lowell family were known for anything, it was their flamboyance. And annoyingly good hair, you thought to yourself, touching your own lightly to ensure the pins were staying in place.
The wearer of said offending waistcoat was the youngest of the Lowell boys, quite eager to prove himself to high society. He was a handsome sort, with a sharp jaw and a ready smile, all blonde curls and shining eyes. Open to speaking about anything, too, which was exactly why you were there.
The boy’s father had just come into a position in the House of Lords, and would be yet another influencing factor on trade. Your job was to make him talk, to see how open his father might be to working with your own employer, a certain Cutler Beckett. Beckett was always looking for political sway, so you were always dragged to social events to eavesdrop. Spying was too harsh a word, he told you, though you knew he’d let you call it whatever you liked as long as the job got done.
Thankfully, all socials needed entertainers, and entertaining made you just interesting enough to speak to. You could, of course, pose as some highborn lady, but for the Lowell boy, nothing less than the most dazzling performer would do.
You struck a captivating figure, even you had to admit. Beckett had near outdone himself—he wasn’t one to be afraid of dressing you immodestly, but your dangerously low neckline was nothing short of scandalous. Your dress, a dark turquoise mantua the color of stormy seas, was accented by embellishments of white and gold. Tiny satin roses sat along a creme stomacher, and lace spilled out from the elbows of your sleeves and along your collar. False ringlets hung at the sides of your face, giving the illusion you had more hair than a head could hold. Your jewelry, too, had its own extravagance. A pearl necklace lay at your throat in three lengths, and your earrings featured one dangling pearl apiece.
Truth be told, you felt a little like a trussed up doll, but you supposed that was all you were for the evening anyway.
You took your place amongst the musicians, keeping an eye on the boy as you went. You made sure to pass by close enough that he had no choice but to notice you, and you blushed prettily as his gaze trailed after you. Eye contact. If you’d learned anything, meeting a man’s eye for a brief moment was more daring, more alluring, than any dress you could ever wear.
Working for Beckett required a wide range of abilities from you—singing, dancing, pianoforte, social skills—and you were always expected to put them to use. There were the other necessities, sometimes, like good aim, which you preferred to leave to Mercer, but you learned all the same. Tonight, thankfully, all that was required of you was your voice
So you sang. Backed by a small ensemble, you provided the music for partygoers to dance to, raking your eyes over the crowd all the while, taking in the social scene. You stood at the perfect spot for observing who talked to who, and which groups avoided each other, and if anyone’s dress was out of season, and whether or not the Lowell boy accepted drinks from waiters.
Oh, and Beckett’s piercing gaze.
Nobody else noticed—nobody else could—as Beckett watched you from the corner of his eye. His stare raked across you, making gooseflesh rise on your arms and a shiver run down the back of your neck. He watched, of course, to make sure you were doing your job, and that his eyes weren’t the only pair drawn to you. But you had been under his employment a long time, and you knew his many looks, and the darkness in this particular look was one he reserved for precious few people. In fact, you weren’t sure you’d ever seen him direct this look to anyone but yourself, which gave you a little too much satisfaction.
This look was one of desire, and you’d be damned if you didn’t capitalize on it. Beckett wasn’t the only one who could toy with people.
The performance over, you mingled with the crowd, graciously accepting compliments and putting on a dazzling smile. It didn’t take long for the boy to be drawn over; his eyes carding over you with clear interest, and you knew it wasn’t just your voice drawing his attention.
“That was positively breathtaking.” He had a pretty smile, you conceded to yourself, but was full of foppish energy you’d have to brace yourself against.
“Thank you.” You pretended to be flattered.
“You’re breathtaking, as well. Wherever did you get that dress?”
The problem, you found, was that he was really and truly interested. All his excitement was genuine, and as much as you hated to use it against him, it was your job. “The silk is from China,” you lied. China sounded much more interesting than Bristol, and he wouldn’t know the difference.
Soon, he was talking about his father, and you listened to every word. When the topic of spices and textiles arose, you slipped Beckett’s name into the mix, mentioning him as the gifter of your dress. To the Lowell boy, it was nothing more than an offhand comment, but you knew Beckett’s name was in his brain now, and as sure as he was to mention you to his father, he would be mentioning Beckett as well.
It was when you let him inspect the pearls at your throat that you noticed Beckett’s glare from across the room, hot and fixated on the spot where the boy’s fingers made contact with your skin. You had the sudden feeling you’d done something wrong. Oh, the show you were making of yourself wasn’t truly vital, no, but surely Beckett couldn’t be upset about it.
Surely he couldn’t be jealous.
Mercer appeared by your shoulder in short order, seemingly out of nowhere. “I’m afraid the songbird is needed elsewhere,” he drawled. “I’m sure she’ll be back in not too long.”
“Oh, of course.” The boy smiled, bidding you farewell. “For you, I can wait.”
You rather hoped he didn’t.
You let Mercer drag you away from the crowd, though his iron grip on your arm wasn’t wholly necessary. You had no doubt who the order had come from—you were at the man’s beck and call. A thrill ran through you; you couldn’t help but feel a little excited. After all, you’d succeeded in making the famously well-restrained Cutler Beckett snap under the weight of jealousy. But you were apprehensive, too. There was no telling just how he would react, and though you weren’t afraid, necessarily, you were aware he could cause you discomfort without doing harm.
Mercer pulled you into a library, oak shelves making a maze of the room. At the back, Beckett sat in a comfortable looking chair, rising unhurriedly to greet you. He gave you a casual once-over before turning away to inspect a row of exotic artifacts, affecting disinterest.
“You’ve taken quite the shining to the Lowell boy.”
“Well,” you started, taking on the same air, “shining is the word to describe me tonight. You’ve made sure of that.”
He turned back to you then, regarding you darkly. He wouldn’t fall for any of your charm; at least, he’d be aware of your acting. You couldn’t fool him.
But you didn’t need to. Despite trying to make it look otherwise, he’d already given away his attraction to you, and it only felt right to give him what he made you give others. You couldn’t get shy on him now—that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted your acting, even if he knew that’s what it was. You were a performer, and he liked a show.
“Your…enthusiasm…in tonight’s assignment was unparalleled. I’ve never seen you take such an interest in any of our potential clients before.” Beckett looked up at you through dark lashes. “Though,” he paused, brows knitting together ever so slightly, “I do wonder why that boy in particular caught your attention.”
You fingered one of the small roses adorning your dress, trying very hard to seem like you weren’t thinking critically about your answer. “Oh,” you sighed, letting your chest rise and fall a little more than natural, “you know how it is. He’s young and pretty and has so many stories and so much energy. One can’t help but get pulled into his halo of excitement.”
Beckett snorted. “Please. You’re too smart to find any substance in that sort of personality.”
“It’s not his personality I need to find substance in.”
Beckett’s eyes flashed with an intensity you’d never seen, dangerous. You were in deep waters now, you realized, and there was no backing out.
“Of course,” you continued, “we would need an empty room and locking doors. I’m sure you could procure something of the sort, given our current atmosphere.” You waved a hand, vaguely gesturing at the library. Then, you stilled, looking back at Beckett with your brows raised as if a thought had only just now occurred to you. “You weren’t hoping for something similar, dragging me in here, were you?”
Lighting quick, Beckett had one of your wrists in his hand, pulling you closer, his breath ghosting across the shell of your ear. “I know what you’re doing. I wouldn’t test me, if I were you.”
Your breath caught in your throat, and the nerves in your wrist crackled with some electric impulse triggered by Beckett’s touch. It took everything in you not to gasp. You hadn’t expected his hold to be so tight, but he kept you in a vice grip, and you knew then and there you couldn’t pull away even if you wanted to.
You steeled your nerves. This was a game, and you had to make your next move, risky as it felt.
“Or what?” You whispered low in his ear. Your free hand made its way to the joint between his shoulder and chest as if to steady yourself on him, a teasing touch. He breathed deeply against it, and the light press of your fingertips became the flat of your palm.
“Or I’ll show you just what can be done in an empty library.”
He pulled away abruptly, a tidal wave of relief cascading over you. The onslaught wasn’t over, of course, but he was giving you a respite, and though you weren’t admitting defeat quite yet, you’d take it.
Beckett sat back in the chair, relaxing, a smirk resting on his face. “Go on then. Show me how you would seduce this boy.”
You nearly balked at the suggestion. Whatever you’d been expecting, it wasn’t this—this forwardness, so casually put, not a trace of hesitancy to be seen. You only wondered for a brief moment whether he was serious; the confidence in his deepening smirk told you all you needed to know.
You straightened. Beckett wasn’t going to back down, and his words weren’t a suggestion. They were an order. That thought alone made you weak at the knees.
Always start slow. This was a seduction, and a seduction called for a certain amount of teasing. Anticipation was the true key; keep your voyeur waiting until they simply couldn’t wait any longer, until they became too enthralled to turn away. You began with the pins at the back of your dress, letting the pleats and folds in the back fall with each steel fastening removed. Heavy fabric settled on the floor, the back of the dress now more of a train.
Beckett was still perfectly composed, but the effect of your efforts was clear. His eyes followed your every movement keenly. You took advantage of it, having nowhere to set the pins but the small desk beside him. You bent down, allowing him a good look at your décolletage, and you were gratified to see him draw in a breath.
Next to go was the stomacher, also pinned in place. Here, the true divestment began. Once the stomacher was off, the front of your stays would be on full display. You’d known Beckett a long time, and he’d seen you in plenty of compromising positions, but never like this.
Eye contact, you reminded yourself. More alluring than any dress. More alluring than any undress.
Beckett settled back in his chair as the stomacher came undone, staring openly at the space it previously occupied. You wondered how often he’d had the chance to see women’s undergarments so personally, but waved that though away, bringing your hands up to the ruffled sides of your bodice and slowly, ever so slowly, peeled it off your shoulders and let it drop to the ground.
Beckett readjusted in his seat. You could hear his breathing, now, and his lips sat slightly parted, as if he could taste you on the air. Your arms, now bare, felt the chill of the library acutely. If you shivered, it wasn’t from the cool alone—Beckett’s eyes raked over you with undisguised lust, making it hard for you to keep from blushing. You were all petticoats, well beyond the definition of improper.
You untied your silk skirt, a matching turquoise to the bodice, never taking your eyes off Beckett’s own, even as his wandered. You had to slip it off over your head, but you managed it smoothly. That too you dropped on the floor, letting it slide right out of your fingers.
Beckett’s eyes met yours again, though you could tell he was getting impatient. You loosed the panniers from your sides where they hung to give your skirt its volume, dangling them from your fingers. You walked towards him, setting the small hoops down atop the pins you’d put next to him. Precious little covered you; your modesty was saved by your chemise, though you didn’t expect it to last.
For a long moment, you and Beckett stared at each other. You were close enough to touch, but he refrained from reaching out, clearly interested in what you would do next.
“May I use the chair?” You didn’t wait for a response, raising one foot to the seat just next to Beckett’s thigh. Your stockings had to go, and you began untying the garter fastened just above your knee, your chemise now hiked up to reveal a sliver of skin. One of Beckett’s hands moved, seemingly involuntary, and you smiled, shaking your head.
“Look, don’t touch.”
Beckett’s eyes snapped up to yours. It was your turn to give orders, and you weren’t about to play fair. You unlaced your garter, dropping it in Beckett’s lap. Then, inch by inch, you rolled down your stocking, only divesting yourself of it when you were sure Beckett felt tortured by it. He exhaled, resting his head against the back of the seat. But he smiled—a genuine smile—and you knew you were doing the right thing.
“Dear god,” he breathed, still watching as you undid your other stocking. “You’re lucky I’m a patient man. Otherwise I’d already have you bent over a desk somewhere.”
The way he’d grabbed you earlier, you didn’t doubt it. “And have everything over with so quickly?” you teased. “That’s no fun.”
“You have a point. Though, if you keep me waiting much longer, I might not be able to help myself.” His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and you blushed a little in spite of yourself.
The moment your other stocking hit the floor, Beckett was out of his seat, spinning you around to press you against the wall. You gasped but didn’t resist, relishing a little in the way his hands explored you, running down your sides and pulling you closer by the hips. His lips brushed your neck, and you tilted your head to give him better access.
The first kiss seared your skin. You found purchase in the back of his waistcoat, digging your fingers into the fabric to steady yourself. He continued his administrations down to your shoulder, where his teeth drew your attention to the soft bite he left above your collarbone. You couldn’t help the quiet moan that escaped you. If he wasn’t careful, you’d have marks littering your skin come morning, and they’d be on display for everyone to see. You considered that this very thing might be his intent, but his lips at the tops of your breasts distracted you entirely.
You felt his smirk more than saw it, and you knew he was taking great satisfaction in all the little noises you kept making. His touch became hampered by your stays, but he hardly seemed bothered.
“Be good for me and turn around, yes?” He murmured.
You complied immediately, shocked by how quickly he made work of the lacings. You couldn’t help but wonder whether he ever meant to kiss you properly. A hint of disappointment wormed its way into your brain; you liked what Beckett was doing to you, that couldn’t be denied, but you didn’t want it to be all he did. You didn’t want to be a fling. If you were being honest with yourself, you longed for him to care about you, and you longed for him to show it.
You turned back to him appraising you, eyes raking over your form. The only thing covering you was your chemise, though you felt naked under his gaze.
“Kiss me.” You disguised your plea with as much confidence as you could muster. For a moment, you feared he wouldn’t understand, or that he would reject you outright, but all worry was wiped away as his lips crushed against yours, stealing the breath from your lungs with its intensity.
You were both panting when you parted, though Beckett looked like he could kiss you until he suffocated. The idea both thrilled and concerned you. You reached out, cupping his face in your hands, watching the surprise on his face turn to mild desperation as he leaned into your touch. You pulled him in again for a gentler, more tender kiss, and he sighed against your lips.
You’d never seen such softness in him before, and you were almost afraid of breaking him. His pupils, blown wide, remained fixed on you in a sort of daze, and to your great astonishment, a blush had crept up his cheeks.
He hadn’t anticipated this, either, you thought. This tenderness is more intimate to him than any power-play could ever be. You could explore him like this forever, you realized. Gentleness was something foreign to him, but he lost himself in it, needed it terribly.
Before you could get any further, a knock at the door had you pulling away from each other, gasping for breath and trying to shake off the little world you’d gotten so lost in.
Mercer slipped in, paying you and your state of undress no mind. He didn’t seem surprised in the slightest to see you both unkempt. “Lord Lowell has an interest in speaking with you, Sir. It seems the youngest Lowell boy has been talking with his father about you.”
“Ah.” Beckett recovered his composure with impressive speed. “I’m glad to hear our little bird sung so sweetly as to sway him.” He looked at you teasingly. Mercer stepped out, affording you some privacy and Beckett a moment to get himself back together. “An unfortunate interruption. Though I do hope you won’t mind resuming later?” You were pleased to see a glint of hope in his eye—he wasn’t as unaffected as he liked to pretend.
“Oh,” you leaned in, whispering in his ear, “I’m counting on it. I’m still not sure you’ve shown me quite everything one can do in an empty library.”
I've never put dividers in my fics before, so please tell me if you liked them!
Hi there im glad you're back, I really hope you're doing ok! Don't worry about this request if you've been sent lots of others before but I had an idea for a Beckett request? 👀
Say reader (f) is employed by him as a spy somewhere on a placement for EITC and works as a performer/entertainer and she is spying for him at a business event and wears an eye catching outfit & ends up flirting with clientelle at the event making him really jealous which the reader enjoys and mercer drags her off to an unoccupied room at becketts request where he does his intimidation thing to show who's in charge which reader doesn't like so tries to turn tables and things get... friskyyyyyy
No worries if you're not feeling it or if u are and can think of alternate plot points then go ahead!
Oh this is fantastic. Ask and you shall receive. Definitely took some research to get all the dress bits correct, but I'm now confident in my ability to write ye old strip tease, a skill I shall cherish and use ever so responsibly. Also, I'm a great lover of the entertainer/spy trope, so this is perfect. It fits Beckett so well, too.
A few questions to consider, regarding James in POTC3: a). Did he know Will was working for Beckett once he was reinstated? b). Did he know Elizabeth was alive? c). Did he meet Sao Feng? and d). Why was he reassigned to the Flying Dutchman in the first place?
I really, really doubt it. I get the feeling Beckett likes to keep his pawns in isolation from each other, much like how Jones didn’t know Jack was alive. Letting James in on the deal with Will would put the two in a position to communicate, and, god forbid, form their own ideas, which Beckett simply couldn’t have. I think Beckett was still manipulating James’ love for Elizabeth, making him think he was one of the only, if not the only, person in a position to help her escape death. The reverse of the question is true too, I think; Will likely didn’t know James had been reinstated to his old position, either. Thus, he thought he was the only one who could save Elizabeth, and no old rivalries or new alliances could pop up between them.
I don’t think he knew for certain, but I also don’t think it crossed his mind to assume her dead. After all, he knew she was with Jack, and without the news of what befell Jack and the Pearl in the Kraken incident, he would have no reason to think her dead. We see this a little in the deleted scene where Governor Swann goes to stab the heart. When he says Elizabeth is dead, we see this flash of alarm and fear and confusion cross James’ face because no, no she can’t be dead.
Helluva interesting question. I’m cackling over the idea of their meeting. I can just imagine the looks of pure disdain. But overall, I’m going to say no? Sao Feng was operating with the brethren court up until …
Another great question, but I can posit a few reasons for this. Firstly, James already had some experience with the supernatural given what happened with the undead crew, so he was less likely to be surprised by anything that happened aboard the Dutchman. He even had experience with the Dutchman’s crew, having fought them not long beforehand. Beckett needed a calm, commanding officer in charge, and James was his best bet. In James’ previous career, he’d inspired confidence and trust in his men (presumably), and Beckett assumed at least some of that respect would carry over. James would have been the most qualified to deal with Jones, and if he could stay calm, the rest of the naval crew would be more likely to follow suit. Also, James might have been able to keep Jones from blowing the Pearl to smithereens, simply through sheer desperation to save Elizabeth. It seemed to me like Beckett wanted the Pearl afloat, if only so he could negotiate flirt with Jack.
Can I get a ship, but for a friend instead of a love interest? I am 28 years old and love to read and crochet. I am very interested in history and I used to do ballet! I love all things whimsical and romantic and I only wear dresses lol. I'm known for being the most prim and proper person in the friend group but I also love a good party and a cigarette now and then haha.
I bestow upon thee the friendship of Elizabeth!
I feel like you're just Lizzie's less troublemaking counterpart -- or just the one who doesn't get caught. I can see the two of you sitting together in the afternoons at your various textile arts, you at your crochet and her at her embroidery, talking about all sorts of social drama and fantastical ideas. You'd read whatever books about mythology and legend you could get your hands on, coming up with all manner of scenarios between the two of you about meeting such creatures. You also talk a lot about pirates. I can totally see you teaching her ballet; the two of you dancing across the floors of the Governor's mansion, filling the space with your laughter. If you ever performed, Lizzie would be your number one fan and show up to everything with a dear amount of enthusiasm. During long balls/parties, you'd both sneak into the gardens to share a smuggled smoke of some kind and gossip about the other attendees.
Hello there! I enjoy reading your blog and... I was wondering, if you could try do some ship with me.
I'm 25 years old girl, with dark brown eyes and dark hair; not slim figure, but with good and kind heart.
My zodiac sign - Taurus (an earth sign, I know).
I enjoy reading, listening to the retro music, drawing and just do something to relax. Being at work - I am responsible and caring about my patients.
The only one my problem is that I am not very talkative with people, always shy and, sometimes, a little lazy. But it's not that bad, right?
Sorry, if that not much for you. English isn't my native language (I am Russian, actually), but I'll be glad to receive your answer!🤗🤗
I ship you with Will!
Will doesn't mind your shyness; he can be pretty shy sometimes, too, especially when it comes to being around people he's interested in. He doesn't mind just kind of existing in the same space and doing separate things like reading or drawing. In a more established relationship, the two of you might just be satisfied curling up together and dozing in each other's arms. Tough the two of you wouldn't have a convenient way to listen to music, I can see you lingering outside concert halls when you walk past them, even if groups are just practicing. You mention having patients, so I assume you work in the medical field? In any case, Will is impressed by your dedication to them and is touched by your kindness. Let's be real: it takes a lot of compassion to work with patients of any sort, and a lot of strength that doesn't get talked about often. Needless to say, Will thinks you're wonderful for it.
(Never worry about the language barrier if English isn't your first language: it's an insane one to learn and I'm always impressed!)
•I’m attracted to men, particularly men with strong personalities
•I like older men. Guys in their 20s are all creamy and soft and don’t know anything.
•I have an odd sense of humor that people either really like or they just don’t get
•Romantically, I move pretty slow
•I am very much a physically affectionate person, but more than happy to respect others’ personal boundaries
•I can’t handle clingy people and enjoy alone time. As the saying goes, “I like being alone, but I don’t like being lonely”
•I want a man who will lead me, but NOT CONTROL ME. Like Miley Cyrus, I “can’t be tamed”
•I feel things very deeply and am the type of person who will cry with you and want to hug all of your pain away
I ship you with Barbossa!
Barbossa is the exact kind of man who has both a strong presence and a healthy respect for your capabilities. He's probably one of the more secure people in a relationship, and doesn't feel the need to be around you all the time, so you'd get time to yourself. He's not a super touchy person, either, especially not in public where he has appearances to keep up, but he's happy to hold you behind closed doors after a long day. He likes to have your head on his chest when you're in bed. He really likes the blue of your hair, finding it fun and loving to run his fingers through it. Knowing him, he'll get your sense of humor just fine; he has jokes of his own that can come off a bit crass. He also doesn't mind taking things slow to begin with. He wants you to be comfortable, and as I've said, he's fairly secure about your feelings and knows that things will develop over time.
I accidentally sent the previous ask to early 💀 so sorry about that!
But I'm a creative person who can be extremely stubborn at times. I care for the people I love and will do as much as I can to help them. So so many dad jokes.... I'm mostly a reserved and shy person but I care a lot about other people and try to be as kind and helpful to others as possible
Speaking of that previous ask, it got eaten, but! I saved it elsewhere. So the rest of your description was as follows: "I'm 4'11, with black wavy hair and brown eyes. I have bronze skin and am a girl. I like to read and love to dance as well as crochet! Baking is one of my hobbies as well. I love most wildlife (except spiders) with roses being my favourite flower."
I ship you with Will!
Will is a great lover of your creative talents. He appreciates domestic things like crocheting and baking, wanting to decorate your home with your art. He may not have a lot of experience in the kitchen, but I can see him helping you there as you bake, measuring ingredients and handing you supplies, though he’s really just there to spend some quality time with you. I think Will likes the outdoors and finds nature to be something calming, given how much of his life he spent working in the city, so the two of you would take a lot of walks, and you’d always bring home flowers to decorate. I can see the two of you looking at all the little creatures inside tidepools. Will never learned to dance, but he enjoys watching you—he just likes seeing you do things you enjoy, finding a great beauty in the way you move. You could easily convince him to learn, as he’d love to join you. Will loves your kindness and the amount of effort you put into being helpful, and he understands your shyness. Honestly, he thinks it’s kind of cute. (He also likes your dad jokes—he finds them funny).
