#the-mister-gibbs

[favorite-characters]

ℙ𝕚𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℂ𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕓𝕓𝕖𝕒𝕟: 𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℂ𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕜 ℙ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕝

Kevin McNally as ᴊᴏsʜᴀᴍᴇᴇ ɢɪʙʙs (dir. Gore Verbinski • 2003)

[scottishoctopus]

Bonus cosplay photos! This was still during the October MCM event and I ran into two other Jacks and a Mister Gibbs which was hilarious and awesome!

And of course, the first thing we did was recreate the Spider-Man pointing meme which I now cherish!

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Breaking Free

[A/N: I’m driving home for my externship (and Thanksgiving!) so you know what that means- too much time on the road to daydream 🙃 Pls enjoy Gibbs being an infuriating slut]

Pairing: Jethro Gibbs x female reader

__________

You repeatedly pat your boyfriend’s arm, pointing to his left at a sign that’s sure to snag you the win of your road trip competition. It’s become an annual tradition to pass the time by finding the most outrageous billboards on your way to Thanksgiving with your parents and Jethro’s father in Pennsylvania.

“That’s gotta be the best one,” you say confidently. “It even has a handcuff reference for you!”

The large sign promises that if you’re Shackled by LUST? then Jesus can FREE you.

Jethro grunts by way of acknowledgment then poses, “You scream oh my god a lot when I’m inside you- d’ya think that counts?”

“Not, like, a lot a lot,” you protest ever so eloquently, incensed by the smirk blooming on his face and his clever avoidance of admitting defeat.

Clearly your darling boyfriend takes that as a challenge.

The hand resting on your denim clad thigh begins creeping higher and you cut your eyes over to Jethro to find his focus is still dutifully on the expanse of highway ahead. “Whatcha doin’ there, Jay?”

“Driving,” he answers easily, hand moving higher yet. The corner of his lips visible to you arches upward when he meets the cool metal of the button on your jeans, but his smile falters when he fumbles to get it open. “Little help here?”

Raising one eyebrow, you counter, “You wanna prove a point, you put in the work, mister.”

He huffs out a breath, then twists his wrist and finally succeeds in popping the button open with a triumphant laugh. Jethro doesn’t even bother to try with the zipper after that; he simply shoves his hand into your pants so the zipper gets forced down its track.

You gasp when his fingers slide through your folds, and Jethro produces a quiet growl in the back of his throat when he finds you already wet for him. That sound alone has you moaning out a low, “Oh my god,” and your boyfriend outright laughs at you while his middle finger circles your clit. “That was only once- oh fuck, oh my god- okay, twice, you jerk,” you feebly defend yourself.

Jethro sinks two fingers knuckle deep into your pussy with an amused hum, and you slap your palm against the roof of the truck while crying out a third iteration of the deity-invoking phrase. “I can’t- oh fuck me- stand you sometimes,” you bite out, lifting your hips to help Jethro’s fingers slip in and out of you with ease.

“Good thing you’re sitting then,” he fires back, chancing a glance away from the road to smirk at you.

You draw your bottom lip between your teeth in a feeble attempt to muffle your cries, but Jethro brushes his palm over your clit while curling his fingers and another breathy, “Oh my god,” slips out of your traitorous mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” your boyfriend praises you, no longer bothering to mask his delight. “Free yourself from those shackles.”

A laugh punches out of you that morphs into a wanton moan when he curls his fingers again, and your cries rise higher and higher in pitch until you’re clenching around Jethro’s fingers, calling out a litany of curses with a healthy dose of his name mixed in. You drop back into the seat, boneless, with a final, “Oh my god.”

Jethro slips his slick-coated fingers out of your still throbbing cunt and points out your window to another billboard flying by, then runs his sinful tongue along his fingers, groaning at your taste. “I’m always right,” he asserts with a content hum, “and I win.”

__________

LJG tags 🖤 @ilovemark1951 @doctorwhofan24

[boingfessions]

HAPPY OINGO BOINGO DAY EVERYNYAN!!!

I hope everyone has a great time today! Surely more than one person asked themselves a question: What the HELL is Oingo Boingo? Well, the name itself is complete absurdity! But what makes Oingo Boingo Oingo Boingo? Find out in this post under cut!

Our beloved crazy ginger man! Daniel Robert Elfman is an American film composer, singer, songwriter, and musician. Delusional, orange af, joker-like, face with a combination of slasher smile and Kubrick stare, perhaps even had prolonged non-fatal rabies in his time in Oingo Boingo that was only recently cured when the band broke, but unfortunately (or not) returned in recent years. Now his entire body is covered in tattoos and his hair is straight now because of dyeing it to hide his gray hair, ergo his old age. The truth is that he is actually a skeleton disguised as Danny Elfman to pass himself off as living human so that the Grim Reaper don't come after him, but SHHHH!!! I did not tell you anything!

Danny Elfman (lead vocals, rhythm guitar)

Steve Bartek (lead guitar, rhythm vocals)

Fluffy tall boy <3. Steve Bartek is an American guitarist, film composer, conductor, and orchestrator. Elfman's right-hand man and the one he trusts with his skeletons in his closet, oh and his film compositions too of course! One of the few members of the band who was not consumed by it and therefore did not become a feral creature in the process. He plays little guitars because he's a big man, y'know! He usually wore ridiculously short ties along with baggy t-shirts. His guitar solos drove Danny so crazy that he was spinning around and caused him to have back pain to this day, so you know how to blame. Nowadays unfortunately his beautiful dark curls have become gray, but luckily he now looks like an adorable grandpa now! (just like the others)

Kerry Hatch (bass guitar, backing vocals)

A marvelous human being! Kerry Hatch is an American musician... and that's it. Walking diva and Zoolander wannabe, this lad was the band's bassist until 1984, when he decided to join the band "Zuma II" (what the HELL is that band? I have no idea!). A pretty lad who likes to be handsome and play bass guitars that don't even look like bass guitars, I don't know what else I could say about him! Maybe he thought the band wasn't good enough for him and decided to leave to pursue something better, but that's just a guess... if you can consider a landscaping business better!

Richard "Ribbs" Gibbs (keyboards, backing vocals)

Mister mistery~ Richard Gibbs is an American film composer and music producer. Like Kerry, he left the band in 1984 to join Zuma II, and to be honest I don't know what what that band had to make not one but TWO members of Oingo Boingo (the best band in the entire galaxy and even the sixth dimension) have left to be in that band. Anywho, all I have to say about him is that he did well in life, being a composer like Danny and that's it.

Johnny "Vatos" Hernández (drums, percussion)

THIS IS JOHNNY VATOS FROM OINGO BOINGO MAN!!!! He is a drummer with crazy hairstyles who likes to dum ba dum through life. Almost as crazy as Danny was, he stayed loyal to the band even after they broke up (yes, he was in another band called Food for Feet, but I don't give a DAMN!) Years after the band broke up he managed to reunite about four former members and form "Oingo Boingo Former Members", made up of him, Steve Bartek, John Avila, Carl Graves and Sam "Sluggo" Phipps, in addition to new members. Idk about you, but I would like to have him as my grandpa!

Sam "Sluggo" Phipps (saxophone, backing vocals)

Leon Schneiderman (saxophone, backing vocals)

Slam Bam "Sluggo" Phipps is an American saxophone player known for his signature bright, expressive smiles, where he shows off all his teeth and can light up an entire room. The tallest guy in the band and the one who likes to show off his instrument the most, rising it high in the air when attention is focused on him. Well, maybe not so much, but you understand what I mean! Maybe he can be too expressive and noisy, but we still love him ❤️

Dale Turner (trumpet, backing vocals)

Do you remember when I said that Sluggo had the brightest smile in the world? Well, I lied! That one goes to our dear Leon Schneiderman, the other saxophonist in the band. He could do anything in the whole world, even his own instruments! Being a childhood friend of Danny's, it can be said that he has been in the band every moment since it started, even longer than Danny himself! Don't you love him and his smiles?

John Avila (bass guitar, backing vocals)

Our beloved grandpa-mom. He is an American trumpet player who entered The Mystic Knights after they let him audition after seeing him practice in secret. He makes sure to keep an eye on the other guys in the band and can (if he hasn't already) spank them to make them behave (except for Sluggo; NOBODY spanks Sluggo). Even if he is the shortest member of the band along with John Avila, that doesn't make him any less authoritative, being around ten years older than the rest of the band. He is silent like a mouse and has never been heard to speak, perhaps because he is reserved or has nothing to say. He left the band and is currently enjoying his life privately, and I really hope he's okay!

HE IS MY BABY, MY CUTIE PIE, MY PUPPY, MY LOVE, MY LIFE, THE BEST BOY IN THE WHOLE WORLD!!!!!!!!! RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

Ahem, sorry about that... John Avila is an American bassist and music producer. A literal human puppy and the shortest member of the band. He looks like you could pick him up in your arms and cradle him like a baby... Sorry, I'm off topic again! What do you want me to do? He's simply adorable! (At least for me). Anywho, Although he appears in the Gratitude MV, it was not until 6 months after the release of the album So-Lo that he joined the band along with Michael Bacich, being the new bassist and keyboardist respectively. He is usually hyperactive and you can see him at concerts jumping, spinning and playing his bass like a pro. The strange thing is that, even though the years go by and he obviously ages, he still seems to be the same mischievous and playful puppy-like guy... Okay, sorry again!

Michael Bacich (keyboards, backing vocals)

Quiet nerdy boy. He's was the keyboardist of the band since 1985 until 1988. Yes, he didn't stay for a long time, but his presence in the band is still important as he was present in the band's best era (Dead Man's Party). He looks like the typical nerd who would say "actually☝️🤓" and give you information that you didn't even ask for but still decided to give you to expand your zero knowledge. He also looks kinda shy and like someone who Danny would bully if the band were in a cliché teen movie. Like Dale, he decided to move on with his life after leaving the band, which it's okay after all.

I ran out of space for more images! Don't worry, I'll reblog this post right away talking about the rest of the band (which are only two members but still!). Thank you very much for reading this far and HAPPY BOINGO DAY TO ALL OF YOU AGAIN!!!

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

The Sounds of Justice (5)

Warnings: canon typical violence, cursing, non-consensual drugging, descriptions of character death, mentions and descriptions of jail, car crashes, lying, manipulation, guns, yandere themes, mafia AU, mafia Rafael Barba (trust me, he needs the warning), mentions of rape (not to the reader), and unwanted advances (nothing happens to the reader).

Chapter 5

“How’s it going Abby?” You asked stepping into the space that she had claimed as her lab.

Your friend and colleague turned to face you and winced, “You look terrible!”  She proclaimed.

“I feel terrible.  We got fifteen different calls last night about four new victims.”

“Four?!” Abby echoed.

“Four.”  You confirmed.  “Ducky and Palmer are doing the autopsies now but so far nothing.  Aside from the fact that they appear to have died in the same manner, there’s nothing connecting them.  Even then, that’s thin because two of the bodies we found last night were two young men who appeared to have run in two completely different directions for no discernible reason.  One went south and the other one went east.” 

“That’s weird.”

“It gets better.  Or worse.  Depending on your point of view.  The two young men that I just mentioned?”  Abby nodded, “They accosted Rafael and I yesterday when we went for a walk.”

“Rafael?”

“Rafael Barba.  He’s the ADA that works alongside the SVU squad.”

“An Assistant District Attorney.  Bet Gibbs loooved that.”

“It went over like a lead balloon.”  You agreed.

“Did you tell Gibbs about your connection to those men?”

You shot your friend an are-you-serious-look, “Of course I told him.  I really thought he was going to Rule 10 me.”

“But he didn’t.  That’s probably because it wasn’t that much of a connection.”

“Maybe.”  You said non-committedly.

 “Do you want a sip of my Caf-Pow?” Abby asked, holding the oversized cup out to you.

“No thanks Abby.  I need to be alert not bouncing off the walls and seeing pink floating elephants.  I had some breakfast even though I didn’t feel particularly hungry.”

“Suit yourself.”  She turned back to her machines and put her Caf-Pow down.

“Should I worry that Gibbs was able to get that here?”

“I’d be more concerned with this case.”  Your boss voiced as he entered the lab.  “What have you got for me Abs?”

“So far the only thing that these victims have in common aside from having their lives cut short unexpectedly was a chemical compound in their systems.  I’m working on isolating the chemicals but it’s gonna take time.”  Abby was tapping the keys of the machine closest to her as she spoke.

“This chemical compound was present in our Ensign?”

Abby nodded, “Same dose but it had a smaller effect on him and that’s how he was able to drive as far as he did.  What I don’t know is why it affected him less.”

“Did he have any food in his system?”  You suggested.

Abby paused in her typing, “Possibly.  That’d be a question for Ducky though.”

Gibbs turned to you expectantly, “On it boss.”  You commented reluctantly as nausea bubbled in your stomach.  You tried to avoid the ME’s office as much as you could not because you didn’t like Ducky or Palmer’s company but because you found their work a bit confronting.

“(Surname)!”  Gibbs called and biting down on your impatience about getting your visit to the ME’s office done as quickly as possible, you turned back to face your boss.

“Ducky and Palmer have finished the autopsies and the bodies are in storage.”

You felt some of the tension leave your body, “Thanks boss.”  You exhaled in relief.

Moments later, you strode into the ME’s office, “Ah, Miss (Surname).  I was wondering when you would visit us.”

“It took some persuading.”  You admitted.

“Yes, I’m well aware of how forceful Jethro can be.  What can we do for you?”

“Our Ensign.”

“Ah yes, Mister Michael Burns.”

“Did he have any food in his stomach or his intestines?”

Ducky thought for a moment, “As a matter of fact, he did.  He had chunks of yoghurt in his large intestine.  If I had to guess the flavour, I would say that it was banana.”

“Thank you Ducky!  I’ll run that--”                                                

The doors to the ME’s office burst open and you came face to face with Sonny.  “Phone call two blocks from here.  Lieutenant thinks that it was the victim because he was slurring his words and muttered something about losing feeling in his left side.”

“Let’s go!”  You replied matching his intensity.  You paused and turned back to Ducky, “Ducky could you…?”

The ME held up his hand, “I’ll pass the message along to Abigail.”  He promised.

“Thank you!”  You called as you and Sonny dashed out of the office.

Sonny was able to cover more distance than you due to his long legs but you didn’t have time to dwell on that or give into your feelings of envy because you were too focused on reaching the next casualty before it became fatal.

Two minutes later, Sonny skidded to a halt in front of an abandoned building.  The two of you glanced at each other and if you could, you knew that you would have both spoken the same sentence about wondering why it was always abandoned warehouses or apartments.

The both of you unholstered your weapons and announced yourselves.  There was no answer.

“I hope that doesn’t mean that we’re too late.”  You thought.

You and Sonny entered the warehouse at the same time.  It was just as unappealing inside as it was outside.  It was drafty and the paint was peeling from the walls.  The curtains hung limply in tatters and the old machines were covered in layers of dust and cobwebs.  There were a few windows, so you and Sonny carefully manoeuvred around those to keep out of sight.  Thankfully, the warehouse only appeared to have one floor.

Sonny motioned that he was going to stay around this area and check it.  You nodded to show that you had understood his message and silently you crept forwards.  As you moved deeper into the warehouse, you could hear Sonny calling out “clear” every so often.

You turned to look behind a pillar and thought you heard a thud.  Straightening up, you peered in the direction that you had come from.  You stepped in the direction that you last seen Sonny and then you felt someone’s breath on your neck.

A hand wrapped around your head and shoved a handful of lollies in your mouth.  Your eyes widened in fear as your tastebuds registered an artificial taste underneath the fruity flavours of the lollies.  It tasted almost alcoholic.  The hand across your mouth tilted your head upwards and you unwillingly and reflexively swallowed the lollies.  Your vision dimmed alarmingly quickly and the last thing you heard before you went limp in your captor’s grasp was a clear voice with a mocking tone saying, “You’re lucky the boss wants you alive and mostly uninjured.”

Then your vision went completely black and you passed out.

[supernatural-bias]

for you potc sentence starters, maybe “So, can you sail under the command of a pirate, or can you not?“ where reader is an escaping royal who is in disguise on Capt. Jack’s ship and gets discovered and reported? bonus if they’re very headstrong and got toe-to-toe with sparrow

only if you feel like it ofc, thank you for everything you write!

<3

glad you like my stories. i do try to keep people entertained with them

• Runing off from your normal life of rules and regulations had been a no brainer in your opinion

• In the years growing up a member of high society, your family hadn't nessicarily been a bad one. They gave you the basic needs to have a comfortable life, sometimes more, but feelings of detachment lingered in the air durring nights without a kiss on the head goodnight and calls of don't let the bed bugs bight

• Nevertheless, after the age of six you felt more often than not you were left to fend for yourself in an extravagant manor of winding hallways and stone faced servants

• You'd never liked the nobility anyways. So away you went, letting your feet lead the way instead of your head for once

• How you eventually ended up as a stowaway on The Black Pearl of all ships was a mystery to even yourself

• You supposed it started with that fact that you weren't dumb enough to stick around your hometown for long. Your position in the nobility might not be that much of value, but still. When a person with money and a hint of power goes missing, people tend to look for them, hoping for a reward in turn

• Along with traveling outside of town, you were clever enough to get rid of the fresh clothes you normally wore in exchange for the cheapest pair you could find—which turned out to be a simple pair of cotton pants and shirt

• That's how the ship mates later found you. Wedged between two barrels of their rum, softly snoring as the ship rocked back and forth, face scarcely illuminated with the lantern they had taken with them for light

• Gibbs was the first one to say anything

• "We better get th' Cap'n for this one mates. I have a feelin this'll be a bit more excitin than standin at the helm for an hour."

• They waited till they had called Jack down below before letting anyone wake you up—although a few members wanted to in favor of moving you out of the way to pour themselves some more cups of liquor

• Imagine your surprise when you wake up to a strangers face practically a foot from your own, dark eyes sweeping over your face as he places a hand on his chin

• "Huh. Don't remember pickin you up in Tortuga."

• Panic replaces drowsiness as you start to scramble up, but the men surrounding you are quick to draw a variety of weapons—ranging from guns to knives and long swords

• You think you even saw one with a wooden eye holding a slingshot?? Which didn't make any sense, but who were you to judge right now

• Jack's own sword is pointed at your throat, and he tilts his head with a wide smile, showing off a few of this golden teeth

• "Reckon we got another set of hands to help us around here, aye Mister Gibbs?"

• "Aye Captian."

• "How do you feel sailing under the command of a pirate, mate?"

[potcscripts]

BARBOSSA: Ever gazed upon the green flash, Mister Gibbs?

[piratesgiftexchange]

Elizabeth's Collection

by robinegberts for @flameandignite

Summary: Elizabeth has so far successfully hidden her growing collection. This isn’t going to change just because someone walks in on her perusing it.

Prompt: “Elizabeth and the obscene amount of weapons she’s gathered for the mission in Singapore, choosing which ones to bring like she’s picking an outfit and accessories for a party.”

Characters: Elizabeth Swann, Hector Barbossa, Ragetti

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 1335

Hector watched Miss Swann duck into her tent with faint amusement. No doubt she was eager for a moment of privacy after long months bunking in hammocks with the rest of the crew. He’d like a moment to himself as well. But he still had some idiots to manage.

The acquiring of the tents had been a test of sorts, to figure out who was best suited to what role in their upcoming mission. He knew what Pintel and Ragetti were capable—and no so capable—of. But Gibbs and the rest of Jack’s ragtag crew was still a mystery. As were the afore mentioned Miss Swann and Mister Turner. They’d performed admirably in acquiring the tents though, especially Miss Swann. Which afforded her the privilege of the second largest tent for herself, and the honor of accompanying him on negotiations with Sao Feng.

On that note, she’d forgotten the clothes he’d prepared for her. “Master Ragetti! Take these to Miss Swann for me.”

—

“The Captain asked me to bring your clothes poppet. Where do you…” he trailed off as he looked up to see the interior of the tent. Somehow, in the, what was it? Five minutes? She’d been in the tent alone, it had been transformed from an empty canvas room to– Well, the bedchamber of some rich lady. Elizabeth sat on a stool at one of them fancy tables with a mirror on em. She was fiddling with her hair, face showing the utmost concentration.

It was probably better if he didn’t interrupt her.

He stepped further inside, letting the tent close behind him, intending to place the clothes in a corner somewhere or whatever. But that’s when he noticed the weapons. Just out of view from the door, the whole floor was covered in them. Swords, guns, knives, bombs, and was that a canon? Anything. Everything. The whole tent was filled with them. HOW?

Screw the question of where the got the mirror from. Where did the weapons come from? There was no way she was keeping them all in her hammock. And their ship fucking sank not far from Singapore. She couldn’t have hidden this all in the longboat they squeezed in to reach land.

Elizabeth cleared her throat. He lifted his head so fast he cracked his neck. Her expression made him nearly faint.

—

Elizabeth watched Ragetti’s face go through an array of emotions as he looked around the tent. Mostly at her collection. The hand not holding the haphazardly folded clothes moved as if he was counting the weapons on his fingers. He wouldn’t get very far using his hands. She cleared her throat and made sure the threat came through in her expression. “Thanks,” she said, “just leave them.” He dropped the pile on the floor, his eyes not leaving her. She waited a moment for him to leave. But he didn’t. He just kept looking at her, eyes going watery as they looked into hers. “Leave.”

He snapped out of whatever funk he’d gotten himself into into a flurry of movement. “Yes of course. I’ll- I won’t tell the Captain, don’t worry!” Then he bowed, and shuffled backwards out of the tent (still bowed), until the tent flapped closed again.

She hadn’t been bowed to since she left Port Royal to find Will. And she’d never been bowed to like that. What the hell? No one even bowed to the Captain. Well, all the better he seemed so afraid he’d never snitch to Barbossa. That man and his ‘excessive stores of gunpowder should be kept to the powder-room’ rule. Like she was going to walk around with her weapons not ready to use. What’s the point of a pistol if you didn’t have powder?

She ignored the pile of clothes on the floor and continued doing her hair. She thought Barbossa knew her better by now. Of course she stole a discreet outfit for herself when she went and stole the tents. She wasn’t an idiot. She’d seen the British soldiers lurking around. Besides, she doubted Barbossa grabbed something with enough storage space.

She hissed as she stabbed herself with a pin. She’d sharpened them for use as emergency weapons. Something that wouldn’t be such a problem if she still had her maids to do her hair. Now that had been an adjustment when she left home. She’d seriously considered cutting all her hair off. But that was months ago, she was quite proficient at doing her hair by herself now. Even without a mirror. For the mission ahead though, she was glad she had one. She didn’t want to embarrass herself on what amounted to a diplomatic mission.

—

Hair done, she considered her collection. Technically, she could take everything. But that would leave her unable to move well enough to fight. And that wouldn’t do. In an ideal world, she could just grab her favourites and be done with it. But all of them were her favourites. She didn’t want to choose.

All of them were deadly. The guns loaded and ready to use. The swords sharpened. Fist sized bombs reminiscent of the one she and Will used to blow up that pirate on the Isla de Muerta. Maybe she could take a few of each? But which ones…

Earlier, Barbossa had explained their role in the mission. They’d meet up at the Singapore hideout. There, they would have to remove their weapons as a show of good faith. A show, he’d said, with all the dramatic emphasis he was so fond of. She smiled. She could make a show of removing some weapons.

A woman alone wearing a knife at her hip? Anyone would think she was merely sensible, but not a threat. Considering her clothes, she was best of choosing a knife that matched them in style. Since she only had one of those (incidentally stolen at the same time as the clothes), she put it to the side to grab when she put on her final layer.

Said final layer would be the rather large coat she found, made of a rough fabric that would hide her shape quite well. It should be able to hide plenty of weapons underneath without compromising her movement. Now the leather over the shoulder holster that would fit no less than four pistols was actually a gift from Barbossa. Back before he became wary of and annoying about her collection. There was no way she wasn’t taking that. And her usual pistols still rested snugly inside so she supposed there was no reason to change them out.

Then again. She’d taken this lovely pistol with golden details from one of the assholes who sank their ship three days ago. It would look so nice with not just the leather but the blue tunic she’d wear underneath as well.

Right. That decided, she considered how many bombs she should take with her. She tested the pockets of her breeches and found- space for two. Maybe three if she expanded the pocket. But she didn’t have time for that. Annoyed, she settled for two.

With much regret, she realised swords just wouldn’t do for this mission. They’d be too visible, even under the coat.

That left her with.. four pistols, a knife and two bombs. That wouldn’t do. She needed at least one bigger weapon to feel comfortable leaving camp. Even leaving her tent, if she was really honest with herself. 

If she wanted to be nimble enough to fight her way out of the hideout if things went to shit, she could take two more things, she thought. One for each boot. There was this huge blunderbuss she just loved but she’d only used it once. If she had to be selective, she needed something she was proficient in and trusted with her life.

“Ten minutes till sundown!”

Shit. They left at sundown.

Fuck it. She was taking the blunderbuss. She shoved it down her boot, then pulled her breeches over top, followed by everything else.

[tortoisesshells]

for the five sentences game: elizabeth & weatherby swann and [looks around me] light

you got it, chief! here's a [checks notes] unnecessarily melancholy missing scene between Isla de Muerta and Jack's near-hanging.

There was comfort, if only in the physical attributes of the King’s House in Port Royal: her feather-soft mattress, food not gone rotted in the cask, windows wide to every wandering breeze – things which Elizabeth had always understood, vaguely and without much in comparison, to be luxuries. And yet – she was not comfortable. She missed the Pearl, down to its fetid lockers and the salt junk Mister Gibbs thought might have been mutton in Queen Anne’s time – here, irrevocably altered, she rattled like a badly-made cog, or an ill-set gem, and all the old ways of being combined with the looming reading of the banns (and Captain Sparrow’s hanging) were only bars, somehow – a prison. She paced the halls when she could not sleep, and in the library found her father. In the clear light of his prized spermaceti candles, he looked sleepless, small, and old; he came to his feet, and with such evident care as might shame her for wanting to escape all this, said: “Oh, Elizabeth, the night terrors for you, too?”

Send me character(s)/a ship and a one word prompt, and I will write a five sentence fic about it.

[littleseabird]

@lightcreators ( mister gibbs ) said " money is not "beside the point," money is the point!" [ x ]

The young woman only snickered to Mister Gibbs, he did have a point. Money was the answer ( and question ) to everything. It seemed that these days everyone was all about money and she wasn't too interested in it. Money could buy a lot of things, but it couldn't buy happiness. She smiled to the older man, and looked down to her fingers that were interlocked together as she sat on the steps of the tavern. "True enough, but money can't buy love or happiness can it? What do you need some money for, Mister Gibbs? Do you need me to loan you a few coins?" Was she trying to give him a pep talk? Maybe just a little, not that he needed it. Mister Gibbs was a good man to her. Always there to help her if she needed it.

[scottishoctopus]

Cosplay photo dump from when I had attended MCM in London during May and I met Kevin McNally/Mister Gibbs which was absolutely amazing!!!! He was so lovely to talk to and it was surreal to meet him in person!

[mvrtogg]

@lightcreators ( mister gibbs ) said. "If it wasn’t for physics and law enforcement I’d be unstoppable.” [ x ]

Murtogg had been aboard the Pearl for exactly one year. He trusted Mister Gibbs words, but sometimes it made him think. He wanted to be a good pirate, as he wasn't able to go back to his former life. Gibbs seemed to be decent support. He admired the older man, almost as much as Barbossa. "I know all about the laws, I could help y'get past that. As for that physics stuff, I don't eve know wot that is." he honestly didn't know anything about physics or even what that meant. He was smart, but he wasn't that smart.

[dontsweatthefresh]

DJ Muggs - Soul Assassins 3: Death Valley (Album)

00:00 01. The Time Has Come 

00:58 02. It’s On (feat. Boldy James) 

03:56 03. Check In (Original Version) (feat. Jay Worthy & Spanto) 

07:30 04. Sicilian Gold (feat. Ghostface Killah & Westside Gunn) 

09:25 05. 67 Keys (feat. Roc Marciano, Rome Streetz & Meyhem Lauren) 

11:52 06. Mr. Cartoon Interlude (feat. Mister Cartoon) 

12:18 07. Jokers Wild (feat. CeeLo Green) 

15:49 08. Shell Casings (feat. T.F)

18:24 09. Street Made (feat. Scarface & Freddie Gibbs)

21:06 10. Where We At (feat. Boldy James)

22:52 11. We Ain’t Playin (feat. Devin The Dude, Jay Worthy, 2 Eleven & T.F)

26:44 12. Burn The Playbook (feat. Evidence & Domo Genesis) 

29:11 13. Majik 30:08 14. Crazy Horse (feat. Roc Marciano & Crimeapple) 

32:07 15. Metropolis (feat. Method Man & Slick Rick)

34:57 16. We Coming For The Safe (feat. Boldy James) 

37:32 17. Skeleton Bones (feat. Rome Streetz) 

40:03 18. Dump On Em (feat. MC Ren, B-Real & Ice Cube)

43:40 19. Outro (feat. Estevan Oriol & Spanto) 

Produced by DJ Muggs

All rights belong to their respective owners. https://soulassassins.com/.

[tiimecrash]

@lightcreators ( mister gibbs ) said ❛ i just wanted to make sure you’re okay. ❜

The Professor had turned to her trusted friend in this specific time. She was grateful for Mister Gibb's help, she needed it after all. This was part of the multiverse she rarely visited. She met only a few people here, and her eyes locked to one of them. A very put together naval man. Not the bumbling one at the docks, he was destined to meet a dear friend of his and have his own adventures. This man was someone else. Someone the Professor needed to save from his fate. She knew Gibbs was aware of whom he was and things of that nature. Gibbs was aware of who exactly she really was. She wasn't really Lady Eliza Burke either.

"Oh, I'm just contemplating saving a life of a man who's in love with someone he's not meant to be with. A man meant to do some much more but can't. Should I save him?" she mused sadly. Her voice was a bit quite, before her eyes diverted to Gibbs. "Have you heard anything for out friend? The good Doctor? I'm curious to if he's spoken to you lately. I know he will be in Port Royal fairly soon."