#tourism prospects

[tourismday]

Tourism and Rural Development: A Policy Perspective.

Tourism has high potential to stimulate economic growth and social change in rural areas because it contributes to local economies, support other products value chains, distributes benefits across both seasonal and geographic grounds, and promotes the conservation of cultural and natural heritage. Through the UNWTO Tourism for Rural Development Programme, the Organization seeks to enhance these and other opportunities that tourism can bring to rural areas. To devise adequate actions and develop impactful initiatives, it is essential to have solid knowledge and data to help support and monitor the evolution of this important agenda.

[ugly-organist]

i'm gonna keep it so real. if this titanic submarine thing were under literally under any other circumstances, i'd feel awful about it, but the longer i look into it the less i can bring myself to really care. these were five rich guys that paid $250,000 to get into a very obviously shottily made death trap and drop themselves to the bottom of the ocean.

like. it's so cartoonishly horrible. what did they expect to happen? how did they think this was going to go? i feel like this should qualify as natural selection.

[ai-azura]

The Importance of Traveling in Life: Personal, Interpersonal, and Practical Benefits

The Importance of Traveling in Life: Personal, Interpersonal, and Practical Benefits

Traveling is an integral part of life that can provide us with a wealth of experiences, personal growth, and memories to last a lifetime. It allows us to step out of our comfort zone, challenge ourselves, and discover new cultures, perspectives, and ways of life. For many people, traveling is a way to escape the monotony of everyday life, break free from the constraints of their routine, and…

[cellicom]

Un antico proverbio diceva: Per salire una scala bisogna fare un gradino alla volta. . . . #scale #proverbio #stairs #saying #prospettiva #prospective #visitwaterloo #visitbelgium #waterlootourisme #waterloo #waterlooBelgium #waterlooville #youknowwat #Belgique #Belgium #Brabantwallon #RSIwaterloo #tourisme #lion #lionofWaterloo #sunset #nature #1815 #buttedulion #paysage (presso Butte du Lion) https://www.instagram.com/p/ClgzMpFqqht/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Being a perpetual people-pleaser meant that you were constantly putting others before yourself--particularly your parents and the eccentric guests who stayed at their motel. But when a surly and mysterious musician checked in indefinitely, he flipped your whole world on its head. (3.1k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ A/N: Thank you to my numerous beta readers, including but not limited to @the-unforgivenn, @lofaewrites, @lokis-army-77, and @corroded-hellfire, and to @hellfire--cult for the divider. I am forever indebted to y'all.

chapter one: room for one more

It was always the quiet nights, wasn't it? The ones where the only sounds came from cars barreling down Queens Boulevard and splashing through puddles left by an earlier rainstorm, or from the clock ticking on the wall. 

The ones where your mind wandered until you’d thought yourself in circles, overanalyzing every last decision you had ever made.

The ones where you allowed your guard just down enough that the slightest oddity threw you off-balance—something or someone out of place. 

It was during the quiet nights like that night where you should have expected the unexpected, because New York City never stayed still for long. 

The evening’s sluggishness was normal; tourism always slowed in the springtime. The newest shows on Broadway were already months old, not to mention the warmer weather brought both an uptick in crime and pollen count. If out-of-towners were going to schlep to the East Coast, they’d prefer to see the cherry blossoms hours south in Washington, DC than to get mugged on the 1 train. 

Business picked up in the winter months when people flocked from around the world to witness the Thanksgiving Day Parade, the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree, or Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve, even though they were several bus and subway transfers away. Outsiders to the tri-state area struggled to differentiate between boroughs; it was unfortunate for them, but you counted on it to keep business alive. 

The only guests who consistently frequented your family’s motel were junkies looking for a place to shoot up away from the NYPD’s watchful gaze or affair-havers who were considerate enough not to sully their marriage beds—just their vows. You were in no position to judge; their money was what kept the lights on, but it was impossible not to compare your clientele to the suits who stayed at the Marriott down the street. They wouldn‘t even allow homeless folks to sit within twenty-five feet of the building, let alone stay under their roof.

You leaned on the desk, wood grain pinching your elbows. You tapped your pencil against your textbook as you read, its margins cluttered with notes about different types of parent-child attachment styles. 

Sleep prickled at the corners of your eyes, blurring the words on the page in front of you. Focus. 

Secure attachment occurs when—no, you’d already read this line. Twice. 

“Dammit,” you muttered under your breath, gently slapping your cheeks in a futile attempt to stay awake. Taking a full course load instead of your usual part-time was your academic advisor’s ill-conceived idea, bolstered by the prospect of an earlier graduation. In your haste, you’d neglected to consider two important factors: all of your studying now had to be done during your night shifts, and graduating meant telling your parents a truth they were unready to hear. 

They were so proud of the motel, regardless of its reputation. It might as well have been The Plaza from the way your dad boasted about it. The three of you shared an unspoken understanding that you worked the front desk because paying an actual employee would put them under. Maybe if finances weren’t so tight, you could have freely admitted that your future plans didn’t involve taking over the business. 

Your eyelids fluttered shut as your head rested on your book, a small puddle of drool pooling atop Bowlby’s theories. 

Ping ping ping ping!

Time slowly stretched out before you, your conscious brain clawing its way out of its hazy fog. It took a beat for you to recognize that the incessant noise came from someone repeatedly smacking the tiny bell that sat on the desk. 

“Hey, hello?” an impatient voice called out, jolting you from your impromptu nap. You blinked away the residual sleepiness and took in the sight in front of you: a curly-haired man, likely not much older than you were, a cigarette that had been nearly smoked down to the filter tucked between his lips. He had a patched guitar case strapped to his back and clutched a black garbage bag filled with what you hoped was clothing.

“Sorry,” you grumbled, wiping the moisture from your chin. “Need a room?” 

“Mhm.” You could practically hear his eye roll: no, I just stopped by in the middle of the night for a quick chat. Fancy a cup of tea and a scone? 

He plopped the garbage bag on the ground; its soft landing and the way it wrinkled told you that whatever was inside was, thankfully, not a body.

You nodded and turned around to the wall of keys behind you. There was no shortage of rooms; the only occupied one was being rented by Phyllis, a sixty-year-old self-described ‘entertainer of gentleman’ who paid double her bill in exchange for your silence. 

He stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray on the countertop, grinding it into the base for good measure. “How much per night?” he asked, digging into his pants pocket and pulling out a wallet held together with duct tape. 

“Fifteen.”

The man breathed out, his bangs fanning over his forehead. “Jesus.” He fished two twenties and a five from the billfold and placed them in front of you. “This should cover me until Friday, yeah?”

Nodding, you folded the bills and tucked them into the register kept under the desk, only accessible by key because of a series of break-ins during the late ‘70s.

The man lit another cigarette as you pulled out the ledger and a pen. “Name and date here,” you said, pointing to the ‘check in’ column. He took a drag before scrawling his name on the line: Eddie Munson, 5-4-93. 

“All right, you’ll be in…” you scanned the assortment of keys dangling from their hooks. The walls were thin, and this guy seemed decent enough, so you decided to spare him the theatrical sound effects of Phyllis’s room 10 endeavors. “…room 4. Make a right down the hallway, and it’ll be the second door. Can’t miss it if you try.” 

Your attempt at humor fell flat, both of you too exhausted to laugh. You strode past it, clearing your throat as if dispelling the tension. When you placed the key in his calloused palm, you couldn’t help but notice that the base of each fingertip is a half-shade paler than the rest of his skin. 

“Thanks.” Eddie mumbled. He tapped the cigarette above the ashtray, the gray flakes falling into a neat pile. His right bicep flexed underneath his denim jacket as he heaved the garbage bag over his shoulder, careful not to bang it against the guitar. 

He scuttled out of the tiny room masquerading as a lobby, shoulders hunched from the weight of the bag and of the burdens he inevitably carried. No one shows up to a motel in the middle of the night without a story or two. 

After years of greeting guests at the front desk, you liked to think you had a decent read on them. Eddie was quiet, maybe even introspective, but not necessarily shy. He was tired; no, more than that: he was worn down, like so many other people who had come through these doors. 

Most importantly, Eddie didn’t seem like he'd be much trouble. He didn’t stumble in wasted and reeking of booze or fidgeting as he awaited a fix. He wasn’t shouting or poorly concealing a wandering eye or making lewd comments. He’d made pretty much no impression at all besides being a bit gruff, which was just fine with you. Your personality wasn't composed of rainbows and sunshine at this hour either.

You looked at the clock and sighed when it only read 2:17. It’s already tomorrow, you thought grimly. Just under four hours until you could walk ten feet to your room, curl up in your bed, and sleep until it was time for your afternoon class. After years of balancing school and work, you were in the last two weeks of your final semester, and then…what? You casually inform your parents that you were leaving the family business–essentially forcing them to close it–to pursue a career in social work? 

That was sure to go over well.  

To their knowledge, you were studying hotel management and hospitality in order to “improve the business.” That was why they’d relented when you’d asked to start taking classes, switching you over to the night shift to avoid having to hire a new employee.

What they didn’t know is that your school didn’t even offer that as a major. Nor were they aware of the acceptance letter into NYU’s Masters of Social Work program that was stashed inside your dresser drawer, hidden from sight. That was a conversation for another day when you found the strength to face their disappointment.

Chaos waited to strike until the end of your shift. 

Just as you packed your book back into your bag, a familiar, skunky odor wafted past your nostrils. 

Ignore it, you thought. Let it be Dad’s problem when he takes over in five minutes. But if you could smell it, so could any of the cops patrolling the boulevard. One more citation and the motel was in jeopardy of being permanently shut down, and you couldn’t take that risk.

With a frustrated sigh, you yanked open the desk drawer and reached in for a pen, instead pulling out an unopened box of crayons. A twenty-four pack of Crayola—the good kind. You plucked a waxy cornflower blue from its spot and scribbled Be back soon on a Post-It note, sticking it on the front of the desk. Grabbing the pepper spray canister from its spot next to the register, just in case, you started down the hall. Marijuana wasn’t Phyllis’s drug of choice, though it might have been one of her various gentleman suitors’, but the scent was too strong to be coming all the way from room 10.

Maybe this Eddie Munson was trouble, afterall.

You knocked on his door, firmly but without aggression. It certainly wasn’t the first time you interrupted someone’s buzz, and it wouldn’t be the last. You knew better than to go in guns a-blazing; it’s easier to catch flies with sugar than vinegar. 

Eddie opened it after a moment, cracking it halfway and revealing a lit joint pinched between his plush lips. One forearm was perched on the doorframe, showing off faded ink of a litter of flying bats and a dragon-esque creature. He was clad in only navy blue boxer briefs, but his lack of attire was no surprise. Many guests were shameless, not bothering to cover the holes in their Fruit of the Loom tighty-whities and showcasing faded yellow stains on the crotch. What confused you was the elastic waistband proudly proclaiming ‘Calvin Klein’ that cut off the soft hair trailing from his belly button. It seemed absurd that he would have been lugging around any designer clothes in that trash bag, but there was no other possibility. 

“Can I help you?” he asked, shaking his curly bangs out of his face. Half-lidded brown eyes scanned your form, trying to determine whether you were a narc or trying to bum some bud off of him. His window was cracked open enough to let in fresh air, which also meant that the acrid smell could easily be let out.

“You can’t smoke that here,” you reported matter-of-factly, just as you had a million times before. When he cocked a challenging brow, you continued. “Cigarettes are fine, but no weed. The police will come after us and you.”

He looked around the room, unbothered, and absentmindedly scratched at his bare chest. A demon’s head was sketched just above a sparse patch of hair. Under different circumstances, or maybe in another life altogether, you would’ve asked him about his tattoos; if they had some philosophical meaning or were the products of spur-of-the-moment decisions. You could have blathered on about the ideas you had for your own future tattoos, if you ever worked up the nerve to actually get one. 

“You mean to tell me that with all of the skeevy shit that goes on around here, the cops are gonna waste their time on a little pot?” He scoffed and took another defiant pull, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling away from you.

I guess chivalry isn’t dead, you mused, stifling an eye roll. “No, but they’re always looking for an excuse to ‘investigate,’’' you threw air-quotes around the last word, “so they can bust us for more serious things, and that is the perfect one.” You gestured to the joint only to be met with an eye roll. “Look, you can either put it out, smoke it somewhere else, or you can leave. Full refund, but you can’t stay here.”

His stare locked onto your steely eyes and clenched jaw, only breaking when you’d straightened your posture to stand your ground. “Whatever,” he huffed, but he snuffed it out. A glimmer of a smile danced on his lips, disappearing nearly as quickly as it arrived. Despite its fleeting nature, it managed to thaw you enough so that your arms weren’t held quite so tight to your body, your expression less rigid. “Just trying to relax and get some sleep, like you were while you were supposed to be ‘working.’” It’s his turn to supply the air-quotes, both in mockery and as a gotcha. A teasing lilt elevated his voice, smoothing out the edge he’d greeted you with earlier. 

“I wasn’t sleeping, just…resting my eyes,” you volleyed back, your smirk betraying any semblance of the tough façade you’d worn. 

Eddie crossed his arms and walked over to the garbage bag of clothes. He rummaged through it for a moment before procuring a pair of gray sweatpants, stepping into them hurriedly as though he just remembered his minimal attire. 

“Maybe if you chose more interesting reading material, you wouldn’t be sl—resting your eyes on the job,” he amended, gesturing to the textbook in your canvas tote bag. “Ever heard of Stephen King?”

“I live in a motel, not under a rock.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You live here?”

Shit. That wasn’t information you regularly divulged. Sure, this guy seemed harmless, but looks can be deceiving. Prime example: wearing designer underwear while using a trash bag in lieu of a suitcase. 

It was too late to double back, so you nodded. “Yeah,” you admitted reluctantly. The sole of your sneaker dug into the old carpet. 

Eddie looked like he wanted to say more, lips parted and eyes wide like there was a follow-up question sitting on the tip of his tongue. Before he could ask it, your gaze landed on the clock radio: six AM on the dot. 

“I need to go,” you said hurriedly. Shame at your sudden shyness burned a hole in your belly. Eddie Munson was a guest; for all intents and purposes, he was a total stranger. There was no reason to be intimidated by him. “Good luck falling asleep,” you added with a weak smile. 

The easy banter that had been building between you dissipated in an instant, taking his good mood with it. His goodbye was a sardonic salute, the mattress springs creaking wearily as soon as you closed the door behind you. 

Sure enough, your dad was in the tiny lobby, assessing some peeling wallpaper. “Gotta fix that,” he mumbled to himself, thumbnail picking at it aimlessly. He turned around when he heard the door open and smiled when he saw you. 

“Sorry, I was helping out a guest,” you rushed to explain, hoping he wasn't too anxious to find the desk left unattended. 

The wrinkles in your dad’s forehead became more pronounced. “Is everything alright?” The phrase ‘helping out a guest’ could range from unclogging a toilet to calling the police for a domestic dispute. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you reassured him quickly, flashing an exaggerated thumbs-up. “No law enforcement necessary. Didn’t even need to use the pepper spray.” You waved the canister in your palm before placing it back. 

He beamed, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your scalp. “It’s times like this where I just know I’ll be leaving this place in good hands.” 

You swallowed the bile that crept up your throat and feigned a smile when  he pulled you in for a tight hug. The mingled scents of Irish Spring soap and drugstore aftershave tickled your nose, and tears stung along your lash line. 

If only you knew, you thought, giving him one last squeeze before you headed to your room. Disappointed wouldn’t even begin to cover it. 

Your parents would never say the word aloud; they’d look at each other and heave identical weighted sighs. Their lifelong goal of a long-standing family business would vanish in the blink of an eye. Dad would pretend there was a chance that they could afford a new hire, even going so far as to fumble through the years of financial statements before inevitably throwing in the towel; Mom would force a pained smile and hoarsely encourage you to follow your dreams, even at the expense of theirs.

You shook the thought away as you trudged towards your room, sneakered feet like sandbags below you.  Dwelling on this scenario had you teetering on the brink of insanity, so you’d willed yourself to focus on something else. Anything else.

Like the motel’s newest guest and his smile. The way it softened the hard lines on his face, offering you a glimpse of how he wore happiness. Something about it made you want to see him happy again. 

You can’t even figure out how to make yourself happy, you thought, peeling back the starchy sheets and finally crawling into bed, much less a stranger. For all you knew, he was just relaxed because his high was starting to kick in, and not from some warming presence you’d supplied. 

The sun cracked pink through the sky, visible through the paper-thin curtains hanging on the window. You had become accustomed to this backwards routine, able to fall asleep while daylight broke. It took a few extra moments this time; you were anticipating marijuana-tinged fumes to float through the vents when Eddie ignored your instructions. 

It was that flicker of a smile that had you almost certain he would spark up once you’d left. The smile of someone who so naturally flouted authority that he no longer bragged about it. Yet time ticked by without a hint of evidence that he was smoking again. 

Which begged the question: if the smile didn’t signify defiance, what did it mean?

Eddie Munson is definitely trouble, you surmised just before you drifted off, but nothing you can’t handle.

--

taglist:

@theintimatewriter @mandyjo8719 @storiesbyrhi @lady-munson @moonmark98 @squidscottjeans @therealbaberuthless @emxxblog @chrissymjstan @loves0phelia @kthomps914 @aysheashea @reidsbtch @mmunson86 @b-irock @ginasellsbooks @erinekc @the-unforgivenn @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975 @yujyujj @eddies-acousticguitar @daisy-munson @kellsck @bewitchedmunson @foreveranexpatsposts @mykuup @chatteringfox @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @sapphire4082 @katethetank @sidthedollface2 @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @mysteris-things @mrsjellymunson @josephquinnsfreckles @the-disaster-in-waiting @eddielowe @hugdealer @rip-quizilla @munson-girl @fishwithtitz @costellation-hunter @cloudroomblog @emsgoodthinkin

[tarjapearce]

Crimson Crown (Pt. 2)

Royal! AU Miguel O'Hara x Princess! Reader

Special thanks to @pinkiemme for this amazing fanart for this fic ❤️✨

WARNINGS: Historical background, lil bit of research on medieval fertility rites, made up holidays, fluff until angst comes. Tension, arranged married, slow burn, sibling bonding, Peter B. Parker being a lil more serious.

Summary: A hopeful moment gone sour.

Pt. 3

Ever since mankind has had use of reasoning, wars have been waged over the simplest motives. Power display, conquer the prospect of new and better lands, and of course egoistical purposes such as spite, bloodshed, hatred, revenge, and love.

In the far lands of Enethor, war was part of the staple list of things to do if you were part of the land. The four kingdoms that shaped the continent had been long time witness of how entire bloodlines died and rebirthed. How whole kingdoms separated, only to be conquered later by those with enough power to rewrite history at their will.

Enethor was separated by four kingdoms. Erunia, Therelia, Onerim and Arachne.

Erunia, the land of iron and silver. Home of the artisans that had taken the kingdom's warriors abroad in their distinctive red wooden ships. Cradle of silver refinery and alchemy. The ultimate underwater explorers.

Monarchy in Erunia settled with the most recent bloodline, The Fisks, in charge of King Wilson Grant Fisk. A bloodline that had been reigning for the last fifty years, and made the once forsaken by war kingdom into one of the most technology advanced right after Arachne. Even though it's ruler was deemed ruthless, he was more a cautious, cunning and strategic man whose only god was money.

Erunia's economy was based in exportation, silver refinery, iron smithing and of course, private security. Meaning, mercenaries for hire to anyone with enough money to afford them.

The latter of course was a loud secret between the other nations, most acted according their righteous morals, but secretly sent their servants to hire Fisk's services. The little business had earned him the name of 'Kingpin'. He was a feared yet somehow respected king.

Theleria was the smallest of the four. The Land of medicine, arts and gold. Rich soil, perfect for growing a vast array of medicinal plants, and perfect for gold minery. Even though its land was reduced, the bloodline was one of the eldest and purest among the other kingdom's monarchies.

The Blanchards. Settled two houndred years ago, they had watched the fall and rise of nations, in the expense of their own territory. In long forgotten history, Therelia owed half of Erunia's land and Onerim's islands. But as The Rapture War ensued, Onerim's islands were released from The Blanchard's reign.

The Rapture war took place in the Rapture sea, a cemetery of ships and long honored and forgotten warriors, and after another twenty years in war with Erunia's old sovereign, another part of the territory was lost. Theleria had spent the last houndred years trying to recover from the blows the belic conflicts had put the kingdom in.

The Fallen Reign, the other nations called it. The last and final blow that weakened them considerably was the most recent war against Erunia. Fisk had made his intentions of taking over the West Passage for himself, but the prince life was the higher price The Blanchards had to pay to keep it.

The passage role was to connect Erunia and Arachne as well the merchant ships that came from other lands. Without it, a good part of the economy would slowly but surely collapse. Theleria produced the finest aesthets, fabrics and medicines for the continent.

Its festivities had been the reason many people from other lands to come and celebrate and also increase the tourism affluence. Paint Day, would be a day to honor the aesthetic, the fine arts and good taste. Many would give hand crafts to their beloved, as a token of love and appreciation.

Some even had the common belief that if that person gave a token back, meant a good omen for a future together.

Fertility Day honored the future parents. The streets would be dressed up in wreaths of mugwort, mistletoe and seeds of parsley would be the hot sale of the day. Some women would tie a little sprig around their bellies, others would plant the parsley seeds as it was believed that if it sprouted, a child would grow into the woman's womb.

The Festival of Embers was a memorial day, used to honor the memory of those who had fought in the previous wars and also, the prince funeral. People would leave flowers and medicine over their lost ones graves, so the least fortunate could later pick up the elaborated potions. It was a way to heal others, while letting the grieve to follow it's course.

And finally, Winter Day. A holiday used to welcome the first days of the winter season. Warm and comforting food would be served, duvets would be sold cheaper and of course, the pastries would be a staple. It also had a romantic connotation, just like Paint Day. People gave a small sweet bun full of jam to represent their hearts with a clear message "my love is as sweet as the jam, and as dense like the bread".

Onerim on the other hand had just the Independence Day. The land of pearls, where the fawn was as feared as respected through the realm. It wasn't a secret that many considered the kingdom as failed and misbegotten, since its ruler Sergei Kravinoff had taken the throne after killing his father and rebirthed as Kraven.

And still, people around were wise to avoid picking a war with him. His warriors were ruthless and they held no compassion towards their victims. A savage, King Blanchard had called him once. But his prejudice wasn't only skewed as they were opposites, his view from the world only revolved around hunting, the bloodshed.

Onerim's economy was based on controlled fur trades, weapon commerce such as spears, traps and other trinkets perfect for unsuspecting close killing and gold.

The south east area from Enethor was rich in minerals.

And finally, Arachne. The biggest kingdom of the four. Half of the continent was occupied by it. None really know how the curious shape of the realm was created. Mother nature had her secrets after all, but certainly, Arachne was the most prominent; in all sense of the word.

Despite being a relatively new kingdom, with a hundred year mark of existance, Monarchy wasn't settled until sixty years ago, the first ruler Tyler Stone, had ruled under a relatively prosper and steady command. However, the king had died under mysterious circumstances, and a new ruler rose. George O'Hara.

Most speculations turned into the royal family, the rumor of King Tyler being poisoned by his own half brother, George so he could take over wasn't the only unhinged thing people said. But it was denied as George died of heart attack a couple of months later and the queen, Conchata perished two years later, out of sickness. 

Others believed that Kingpin had his fair share of guilt. That there was a complot for Tyler to be dethroned and the lands on the west extension of Arachne to be sieged and won for Erunia.

But whoever the conspirator was, would deeply regret to overlook past one detail. Miguel. Miguel O'Hara. The young and brilliant king that had continued his father's legacy in a way that not many had expected. Clad in black obsidian, iron and red zarconite, Miguel had lead his army into the depths of war. Kraven surely knew bloodshed, but The Battle for the Alchemari sea and its shores declared Miguel as the new King of Sieges.

The foreign army's blood that came with conquering intentions dyed the shore red, just as his eyes. The Red King was born as his message to the others who had the same ideals was clear.

This is my kingdom.

And so it has been for the last seventeen years. Thriving in an alarming rate in technology, the army grew, as many others soldiers from around the world joined him. Miguel had gathered an army of exceptional people with different skills that once trained under his command, would form the completest army a sovereign would only dream of.

Spies, people that excelled in close ranged combat, archery, weaponry and of course intellect. People who were ahead of their time could earn a spot in his army, after a scrutinizing training.

Arachne prospered in many areas, technology, fawn and flora, weaponry; importation and exportation of goods, minery of obsidian, iron and zarconite and of course fishery. The capital, Nueva York, was the main prosperous land, and where Miguel's castle resided.

A fortress in that one would be lost if one didn't know it like the back of a hand.

The world recoiled and guarded itself as much as it could, when the drums of war echoed for Arachne. To kill or to be killed. Red and blue marching behind The Red King. Some died, but would gladly do so, when the king had taken them in and gave them a purpose.

Festivities weren't really a thing, but people celebrated in their own ways. Unlike Theleria, Arachne only counted with three holidays.

New Rain Feast. A celebration to conmemorate Miguel's first battle won at the Alchemari Sea's shores. It was said that after he won over, the rain had washed over any bloodshed. Erasing from history those that had dared to foray his territory and giving hope towards a new future.

Rain was a good omen in the vast kingdom.

The Armistice Day was used to celebrate the memory of those fallen in battle and the successful treaty among international lands.

And the most expected of them all, The Rainbow Festival. It was more like a huge fair for merchants to sell their goods in the capital, that somehow had ended up with music and a new invention for people's amuse. Fireworks.

Only those close to the king knew how much he exerted himself to keep his people safe. He lived and breathed to maintain them all safe. Your arrival however had caused little to no disruption in his routine.

But it was certain that he wasn't looking for a bride. He had got so much more than he actually bargained for. And for your mother to offer you as the last resource only proved not only their good faith and sincerity towards him, but how others saw him. Your parents feared him. Good. Fear kept people in check and prevented then from doing stupid things.

Your surrender was a clear act of desperation. A token, really. A token that would eventually be queen, even without you both getting married. He needed that passageway open for his merchants to not disturb the economy. He could seize your kingdom if he so desired, but he was a man of word, and so far your parents had kept their end of the promise too.

Of course he'd be civil enough so far to keep you comfortable, and when Peter had told him about your concerns regarding him, he knew that sooner or later he'd have to make an approach. Not that he didn't want to. He was just too busy with external affairs that often forgot even about himself.

Peter would often find him sleeping over the documents sent to him, reports, finances from the different main districts through the nation and possible alliances with far lands.

He'd sometimes would have to be dragged off by Jessica to at least eat something. Lyla, one of his advisors often nagged him to look after himself.

And now, you. A new addition to his list of worries.

You were pretty, sure, but love was something he didn't actually consider in a long long time. He had his own concubines, but even those had been neglected to the point of avoiding his chambers. He wasn't precisely gentle with them either.

Gentleness wasn't something that rendered The Red King. He lived up to his image as a cold, irritable yet polite man that would do anything to keep his kingdom safe.

But soon, priorities would have to be rethought as he grew older. One of them awaited for him in the dining hall. Just as he had instructed.

His armor seemed like a staple into his wearing. It was rare when he was without it. His mind prepared psychologically for the events. He was tired, but still. Hungry. The kiss he had given your hand was out of impulse, but said impulse was enough to make you light up and his heart to give a small shimmy at your reaction.

He still could provoke emotions that wasn't fear or a severe longing for death. And that amused him.

"Princesa"

You stood up, and bowed your head.

"Please, take a seat."

You obeyed, and were seated to his right. Food was soon brought.

"Hope your staying has been comfortable enough?"

The table was being occupied with different lots of food made out of fish. After all, fish and seafoods were the main protein in the capital. Stews, soups and so many other things you had never seen or tasted before.

"It has been, yes. Thanks to you, your majesty" Your lips curved into a bashful smile as the servants donned your plate with a small soup first.

The silence settled in as he begun eating. And that's where you noticed, the protuding fangs on each side of his mouth, tearing and chomping down the meat. It made you wonder if he was used to eat like this.

The only sounds in the dining hall was him scarfing down the food as you ate yours. He was too deep in his task to actually mind your awed stare his way as he ate.

"Your Majesty?" Your sweet voice made him stop as he was about to devour a stuffed fish. Red eyes darted your way, and the fabric piece of napkin you held before him with a small giggle.

"I didn't know one could have such an appetite"

He gulped and cleared his throat.

"Food is exquisite, my lord. Can understand your urge, I've never tasted something so scrumptious like this."

He drank from his cup, the food soothing his nerves and sudden thoughts.

"Glad you like." His tone although monotonous was genuine, like his words.

You'd think he'd had his fill, but another round was brought. This time you were served a lighter seafood stew. This time he ate with a bit more moderation despite his hunger. Of course a man his size had to keep himself well fed.

"I'm quite happy for you to take considerations in such things like art." You mumbled after finishing the contents of your plate.

"Can't be all bloodshed, right?"

You smiled with a soft nod.

"Do you favor a certain branch of arts, my lord?"

"Like?"

"Painting, sculpting, scripture, smithing?"

He pondered for a minute, doe eyes seized him with keen interest.

"Smithing, perhaps."

"It suits your likings." You nodded, "I mean, I can tell by the way your armor is built."

"And what could your highness tell from it?"

"That you saw its building yourself. That is a special armor for you, cause I know no other king that would put that much of effort into his battle armor."

His lips curved slightly but pleased.

"You favor paintings, that much noted. What else do you like, princesa?" He drank from his cup again as Jessica marched in with a small box with a vial. A green-ish liquid contained in the glass.

He nodded at Jessica as she left. Then gulped down the little flask. Face contorting into a disgusted gesture for a brief moment.

"I do like embroidering and gardening."

"Gardening?"

"Of course. I was instructed in the arts of holistic medicines back in my kingdom."

"So you're a doctor?"

You giggled and his tiredness slowly felt melting.

"Kind of. Mother wanted me to be the head of our art academy, but father insisted to keep my medicine studies. Somehow both worked. But medicine proved to be more effective. You can't heal injured soldiers with art, after all."

He chuckled and nodded.

"I've heard that you have been visiting the library. Anything you actually need to find?"

"Oh, I apologize if I've come out as a snooper. I just wish to know more about your kingdom."

"Is that so?"

"Don't get me wrong, my lord. I wouldn't want to embarrass you before your council at not knowing a bit more of your culture in case my opinion or input would be asked."

His eyes twinkled in amusement. A wise desicion indeed.

His lips were about to speak when the jumble of familiar voices approached.

" Your Majesty, Prince Gabriel has arrived" Peter announced with a soured expression, one that Miguel knew wasn't a good thing.

Prince Gabriel?

You looked between him and Peter as said Prince barged in behind the commander. Armor similar to Miguel's but his wasn't as opulent, a smaller crown, hip adorned with a black sword, and of course a grail in his hands.

"My king, my lord, my... My Miggy" He hiccuped and approached him slurring his words, careening steps guided his tipsy self closer to where Miguel was, but stopped as his green eyes settled on you.

"And whose this?"

"Gabriel" Miguel warned

"Ohh, a new concubine?! About time!"

Your eyes widened in surprise and your mouth settled in a tight line. Of course he would have concubines. Mostly kings did. Even your father did.

"Gabriel!" His voice froze him in the spot. You stood up, almost abruptly, hands fisted on your dress, heart beating miles per second as your chest grew tighter within.

"Thanks for your time, your majesty. I shall go back."

You bowed and left, Peter trailed after you after Miguel's order. Both just looked where you had disappeared.

Gabriel sat down with a goofy smile that soon vanished. Miguel's glared holes his way

"You're done acting like a fool, Gabriel?"

"You're done playing the horny idiot?"

"Dame paciencia... She's a princess, Gabriel." (Give me patience)

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because" His voice rose and seethed but quickly caught himself, "Fue tan inesperado para mi como lo es para tí" (It was as unexpected for me as is it for you.)

"You're marrying her?"

"Yes."

"Why? We don't need that sort of problems now."

"Thats precisely why I am marrying her. To avoid future troubles."

"What do you mean?"

Gabriel took a mouthful of shrimps as he sat where you had been sitting minutes ago.

"Her kingdom owes the West Passage."

"Wasn't it closed?" He mumbled through a full mouth, Miguel scrunched his nose in disgust as he swallowed.

"Can you not talk for a second?"

"Right, right"

"It was closed due political shit with Erunia."

"Kingpin?"

"He's getting annoying at this point."

"So they closed it because they feared an invasion, I guess."

"Thats why I'm marrying her."

"That's cold, Miggy."

"But necessary."

Gabriel sighed and looked at his older brother. Despite his age, a few white strands protunded from his head due the perpetually stressed state he always seemed to be.

"So, marriage instead of protection."

"Correct. We can't risk our economy to be surpassed by a crime lord as Kingpin or Kraven."

"Why don't just absorb her kingdom as an extension of ours?"

"¿'Tas menso?" (You dumb?)

"What? Just a suggestion"

"No. They just fought a war. The Prince died. There is enough bloodshed as it is."

"That smug and cocky boy?"

"Sounds familiar?"

Gabriel pouted and sighed.

"You're not nice. What if she finds out about it?"

"I'm sure she's well aware of the mess."

Gabriel shrugged and popped another shrimp in his mouth.

"You'll apologize to her."

"Naturally. Enough torment she gets by getting married to you, Miggy."

Gabriel scrambled away with a laugh as Miguel approached him.

"¡Cálmate!" (Chill!)

"Imbécil." He swatted his head, "Any news?" (Dumbass)

"Not good ones, I'm afraid"

------

A concubine.

"Your Majesty!" Peter trailed after you.

The word had been engraved into your mind.

"I beg your pardon, my lady. Prince Gabriel is-"

"It's fine. You don't have to apologize on behalf of another's ignorance."

Peter gulped and sighed as he walked before you.

"I'm really sorry that this happened, your highness. Prince Gabriel is... quite the card when he's under the effects of mead"

"Well, a drunk's words are sober thoughts aren't they?"

Peter frowned and stepped back.

"I know this is an arranged marriage, ser. I know what it implies. Love isn't into the list. And I respect that. After all, this union was born from the need to keep our people in peace and our countries thriving. Nothing else."

Peter blinked.

"I shall take my studies and meals in my room tomorrow, if that's okay. I don't... wish to be disturbed."

Peter bowed and left you be.

Despite your chambers being warm with the fireplace, you felt cold. Colder as you removed your current clothing into the sleeping ones. Just when you had thought that he was being genuine with you, the hope had been crushed cruelly. But of course you had provoked your own tristful mood by idealizing something you weren't even sure of.

-------

Miguel's frown only deepened as Peter's expression.

"What now?"

"She wishes to not be disturbed for tomorrow"

"Of course she does..."

Miguel rubbed his face and rested his chin on his palm.

"Your brother-"

"I know he messed up, Peter"

"I don't think you're understanding. Miguel."

"I do understand." He pinched his nose bridge.

"I've know you since your father trained us to protect you"

"How long has been that? Eighteen years ago?"

"Twenty for me. I've known you for twenty years, Miguel. And for the first time in your life, you're not being honest with yourself."

Miguel’s brow quirked at him.

"Meaning?"

"You're making reckless desicions even if they come with good intentions. But in that recklessness you're hurting people without realizing. "

"Can't hear you when you're talking full of yourself"

"Act tough and proud all you want, but I wouldn't be surprised if she just rather go back to her own country-"

"It's arranged, Peter."

"You're such a jerk. It's not... You know what? Whatever."

Peter turned around and prepared to leave.

"Commander."

Peter stopped and grunted, annoyed.

"I hate it when you do that."

"Did she say something?"

"You're underestimating her"

"Explain."

"No. Ask her yourself."

"Must I remind you who are talking to?"

"I'm talking to you as a friend."

Miguel sighed and let him continue.

"I'm not saying be moonstruck with her and forsake the kingdom and damn your responsibilities. But the least you could be doing is keeping your allies close, she might not be what you wanted at all. But she understands her duty as well. Don't take her as a fool."

"I know she isn't a fool"

"I'm telling you this because I'd never want my daughter in the same position as she is. You think this is easy for her?"

"A kingdom isn't ruled on its own, Peter"

"Precisely my point you idiot! You can't rule it all on your own! Unless you pay with your life." Miguel glared at him but Peter just rolled his eyes.

"I've done this alone for the last decade and some more"

"Yeah, and look at you. A mess that is always mistrusting people."

"I've got my own reasons."

"God, to be a brilliant inventor you're such a dumbass sometimes. Just apologize to her, alright? I'm getting tired of being your personal courier."

Peter left him be. Of course he had seen your reaction, he should send Gabriel away another two weeks for scouting for his stupid little act, and of course he hated Peter being right.

This is exactly why he didn't meddled in these sort of things. But he was a man of honor. And certainly he had enjoyed the little talk with you, so he would take Peter's advice at heart. Disrespectful as he was. He'd keep you close.

----

Tag list

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[matchingbatbites]

Not tagging because this isn't an official submission, but today's prompt for the steddieholidaydrabbles is Royalty AU and I just.

I'm currently thinking about a vaguely Princess Diaries AU, where Steve finds out that he's next in line for the throne of a small, little known kingdom in Europe. He's freshly graduated from high school with no college lined up and no other prospects, so he agrees to go and learn how to be a prince, to learn about this side of his family he never knew existed.

He falls in love with the country, with the people and the history, but on the night before his coronation as prince and official introduction to the kingdom, he gets cold feet. Starts thinking that he's making a mistake and there's no way he's good enough to be a prince, and he bolts.

He finds his way to a little hole in the wall bar where he meets Eddie, a metalhead biker who he hits it off with immediately. Eddie learns that Steve is new to the area and has only really been to the touristy parts of the city, to the normal places. So he takes Steve around, shows him the nightlife and the beauty the city holds outside the tourist traps and high end society.

It makes Steve fall in love with it all over, and before he knows it the sun is rising and Eddie is dragging him off into a little diner and he's eating maybe the best breakfast he's ever had, and that includes what he's had at the palace. He asks if Eddie's going to be watching the coronation, and Eddie kind of scoffs, says that the royal family is a farce only there to make the parliament look good and to help with the country's tourism industry.

That breaks Steve's heart a bit, and when Eddie asks if Steve wants to come back to his place - "to sleep, sweetheart, don't worry" - he turns Eddie down, saying there's someplace he has to be.

The coronation goes off without a hitch, and he manages to put Eddie out of his mind a bit, spends the evening mingling with the members of his court and parliament, and the next day with his new assistant, Robin.

It's the day after that one of the palace attendants finds him, tells him that there's an Eddie requesting to speak with Steve and refuses to leave until he does. Steve decides to get it over with, and goes to the courtyard where Eddie is waiting, just as stunning as he was the first time Steve saw him.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, feeling snippy and hurt. "I thought you didn't like royalty."

Eddie grimaces and steps closer, twists his hands together like he wants to reach for Steve. "I don't- I mean, I didn't. But a couple of days ago, I got to meet the new prince, and he's so kind, and genuine, and I think he could do a lot of good here."

Steve relaxes a bit, suddenly hopeful. "You think so?"

"Oh yeah. He's just what we need around here, and I'd love to be by his side for it all, if he'll still have me?"

Steve forgives him, of course, and drags him inside to meet Robin and his grandmother. Their wedding a few years later makes international news.

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

What about a yandere king x reader (make or female) and reader is basically a spy, making the king fall in love with them to get information etc, and reader basically tries to kill the king in his sleep but he lives cause he's a warrior at heart 💪(bbg energy lol) and basically what the king would do in that situation

An extremely cliche scenerio

Yandere! Male! King x Gn! Spy! Reader

Ugh Uni just started last week, and it was not... Fun.

One of our classes start at 7:30, and my Uni is like 30minutes-1hour far from my house so AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Anyways, there's no classes today so I got to actually write.

I got quickly uncomfortable writing this HAHAHAH damn. So, if noncon is not your tea, or you're looking for a fluffy fic, I suggest you don't read this one. I'm serious. This is not romantic in any way.

Yandere! King name: Soma

TW: NonCon

At Saphiri, there's a lot of Kingdoms and Sultanates, and a handful of Empires. One of the Kingdoms is called the Caelum Kingdom.

It's a newly established Kingdom, and was once a sizable city without a nation. Built from the foundations of a trading center.

It's a Kingdom formed on an archipelago separated by streams of salt water and fresh water in between their islands. A tight knit community, they thrive in tourism, trading, and textile export. They were honestly on a breakthrough to become an Empire, and it was just a matter of time.

Caelum has been led by the Elara family for generations upon generations. They were the first to discover the island, to establish itself as a city, and a kingdom as they led and oversaw the whole archipelago.

And currently, it's led by Soma Elara, the 3rd born crown prince and now the King of Caelum.

Soma, being the 3rd born, didn't really have that much chance on the throne. That, and his siblings, especially the first born, were smart and all had a chance at taking the throne.

He hated it dearly.

His mother, the second Queen after the previous died, is a greedy woman.

She sees Soma as a tool, and wanted him to succeed the throne.

If not... Let's just say the back of his legs will have more scars decorated on them.

Soma suffered abuse at the hand of his mother who wanted him to catch the attention of the King. And him, conditioned by his abusive upbringing, caught the want for power from his mother.

Ego and Pride. Those two prospects were pummeled into Soma's mind. Nobody can become the King. Only he is worthy of the throne.

So, he became the perfect prince. Nevermind that he orchestrated events in which it would humiliate his siblings. That's irrelevant. What's important is him.

The perfect gentleman with the wits of a genius, he became the crown prince when the selection came.

And, to solidify his place...

His older siblings were pronounced dead due to "freak accidents". One was devoured by sea monsters, the other was torn apart by demons. The younger ones were lucky, they only got to be a bit disabled due to "their own faults at being clumsy".

To not raise suspicion, of course Soma got hurt. Dead almost, but he miraculously recovered! How delightful!

The poor scapegoat is the youngest. And, as she got executed, Soma had a cold look of arrogance on his face.

The Queen?

She's afraid of the monster she created. She wanted a King, not a tyrant.

And, as she trembles when her friends tell her how good of a King her son is, Soma glares at her coldly from the balcony, daring her to speak ill of him.

Years passed, and Soma is now of marriageable age at 25.

His advisers told him to find a Queen, but he refuses to do so.

He's thinks having a Queen would make him look weak in the eyes of people.

So, why get a Queen when he can be an absolute Patriarch?

His Pride cannot allow for a potential weakness.

Not until a certain new person entered the palace as a stableperson...

Soma is welcoming foreign envoys to his palace, in which they would have a inter-country peace talks about a certain Emperor who is wreaking havoc amongst other kingdoms in search of a knight. They said that she was the supposed to be Empress, but fled the Empire.

Even one of the Dukes there, Duke Eros, is here to talk about the man.

As Soma guides the envoys to the palace grand meeting room, a certain servant caught his eyes.

They were frolicking with his horse, who was known to be too stubborn for its own good. Heck, this horse needs coaxing from Soma even just to let him ride on it.

But this stableperson was just... Hugging and petting his horse without any kind of violent reaction.

Honestly, Soma's ego was bruised.

His eyebrows furrowed as he led the envoys to the meeting hall once more.

He needs to know who this person is.

After quite the gruelling three hours of a collective disbelief over the actions of the Emperor Callisto, Soma got out of the meeting room and bid a good day to the envoys. Without any more distractions, he marched to the stables to find the person.

There, he saw you. Brushing the coat of his horse ever so gently and with a hum.

Oh he's annoyed.

Again, how can this pride filled horse just... Let's you be?

"State your name."

Your head, that was hidden due to being on the other side of the horse, popped out of the frame and he lets out a confused look.

You look so... Cute and innocent with those sparkling eyes that held so much affection for the horse in front of you.

"Oh! Your majesty!" You bowed. Even your voice sounds so sweet. "My name is Y/N. I'm not unworthy to meet you but..."

You looked up at him, eyes sparkling once more but now, with affection for him.

Oh?

"But I am so glad to meet you, your majesty."

Your voice held so much affection and love for him.

He cleared his throat, a bit awkward.

Sure, people admired him, but these people always held reverence and respect first. But here you are, projecting your affection like this.

His ego was fed immensly.

"You're bold." Soma smirked, "I like that."

He didn't miss the way your eyes widened subtly. Your face glowed with radiance of happiness that he was so sure he got blinded.

"Oh! Oh my..." You held your blushing cheeks, shy. "Thank you, your majesty... Um Oh..."

You bowed and ran away, fully embarrassed.

Soma, surprised, let his guard down a bit as he laughed gently at your antics.

You were like a deer that was curious, then runs away when get caught.

He liked that.

Immensly.

Yet, what he doesn't know, is that you were smirking as you ran away.

You knew that a prideful man like him wouldn't like a strong independent person.

That would just clash with his personality.

But, what if that person was cute, innocent, shy, friendly... Someone who is easily protect-able. Someone who loves them immensely and is shy about it?

It would inflate his ego wildly seeing this naive person love them without a care.

You're a spy sent by the Emperor Callisto in order to find his darling knight here. And, if you can't find her, you just need to send the Emperor information, so that he can infiltrate the Kingdom and wreck havoc just to lure out the knight.

Honestly, the Emperor scares you. Who's crazy enough to wage countless wars just to find his woman?

Or does he delight in bloodshed and finding his darling is just an excuse?

Who knows, but you knew you have to kill Soma after you extracted enough information from him to start the war inside the Kingdom.

Starting with capturing the heart of the Prideful King.

"Soma!"

You ran to Soma and hugged him tightly. A happy smile on your face with a blush well orchestrated that you know he loves.

Soma smiles and kisses the top of your head before continuing to talk to his Prime Minister.

In those two months that you were here, you painstakingly captured Soma in your hands. Continuing to act as the naive person who doesn't know noble etiquette, you were a breath of fresh air in the uptight palace.

The servants love you, the other nobles look longingly your way, wanting to act as carefree as you.

And Soma? He's head over heels for you.

Yet, in his mind, you were the one in love. Not him. He loves having you by his arms, with you just loving him affectionately and being there to relieve his stress.

You were promoted to consort immediately once you confessed to him fully, and was now a precious being inside the Kingdom.

After all, this King who doesn't want marriage, with ego so high people swore it was through the heavens, suddenly had a consort on their way to become his royal partner.

Soma gave you everything. He loves giving you gifts, asserting dominance as he spoils you greatly.

And, as his reward, you would pour your affection to him while asking about information that he willingly gave.

After all, the foolish king still thinks you won't betray him.

You were only a stableperson, who in their right mind would betray him? Someone who's such a catch?

Sure, he's really handsome. People were lining left and right for his hand in marriage after all. And he spoils you greatly. You won't betray him. He knows it.

But, why are you straddling his lap now, in the middle of the knight, with a knife raised up high?

You were staring at him so coldly, he swore you are a different person.

Anguish, that's what Soma felt first.

He wanted to ask you why, but anger immediately filled him as you swung the knife down.

You're fast, but not fast enough.

He grabbed your hand and gripped it hard, making you seethe and drop the knife hilt down on the bed.

"WHY?!" He screamed, trying to clutch your body to submission. "HOW DARE YOU BETRAY ME!"

You gritted your teeth and tried to thrash away from his hold, not saying anything.

When he got you pinned down on the bed, he grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him.

"Who sent you." He chillingly said that you gulped and shakily answered.

"Emperor Callisto."

Soma stopped, eyes darkened to a degree.

Yet, the words that came out of his mouth was surprising for you.

"So, you're doing this for a man other than me?"

He threw his head back, laughing wildly as his pride got pummeled fully.

First, you made him dance on your palm. Make him spill information and secrets. Let him spoil you greatly. Let you love him freely! And this is how you pay him? A betrayal for another man?

You're such a greedy fucker.

"Oh, cuz he's an Emperor, isn't he?" He spat out, eyes wide with extreme jealousy and unbridled rage. His squeeze on your waist was hurting you immensely. "And i'm not? Is this it? Do you spread your legs to men of higher status huh?"

Your heart dropped when you saw him take off his dress shirt, displaying his carved out muscles that once brought you lust, but now it brought you fear.

Soma gripped your shirt, eyes dead with no light. His mouth a thin light as he captured your lips in a frenzied kiss.

He's no one with pride now. His ego gone.

The betrayal made him crazy as you made him crazy for you.

Placing a palm on your abdomen, he smirks. An evil intent on his eye.

"I'm gonna fuck/breed you into submission." He growls out, grinding his hips against yours. "I'm gonna make you forget the Emperor. I only want you to only live for me, sing and dance for me, I want you to only love me."

And as he relishes in the fear in your eyes, he smirks.

You're his.

And he will break you into being his if you try to get out of his clutches at all.

Remember that.

[charminglyantiquated]

So, I’m seriously looking into getting into tall ship sailing (waiting on follow-up from an interview rn) and I’m wondering for getting into it more long-term -

what do people do after sailing tall ships? Like, it’s a pretty physical job, and I’d assume there’s a point where your joints just can’t keep up with it.

Are there other jobs in the industry that people move to? I’m not really keen on the idea of moving up in the ship’s hierarchy- admin and being someone’s boss both aren’t really my thing. Do people retrain in completely different careers? Go back to whatever they were doing before they started sailing?

Anyway, I know your sample size might not be super large so I’d appreciate anything. Thanks a bunch!

This is hard to answer directly - on the one hand sailing tall ships is such a niche industry that there are limited pathways for straightforward advancement. But on the other hand, it overlaps with such a large number of other industries, and requires such a jack of all trades skillset - tourism, carpentry, history and preservation, hospitality, marine electronics, etc. etc. etc. - that there's a lot of ways forward for what I guess I'd call lateral advancement: moving to another job which uses most of the same skills. So there's no one answer, but if it helps, here's some things my tall ship deckhand friends have ended up doing, after no longer deckhanding tallships:

Get a captain's license and keep sailing. Captains often have it a bit easier physically (balanced out by the mental stress lol), and are paid better. Owning your own boat is optional; plenty of companies hire captains by the season to sail the boat, while the management of the company is dealt with by the actual owners. (This is what I did! I don't have the sail-hauling arms I did as a deckhand, but my knees and bank account are both in better shape).

Bosun, first mate, engineer, some other specialized non-captain crew member, usually involves licensing or other education that's useful down the road if you switch to an adjacent career

Racing yachts

Captain for hire on private vessels

Outward bound guide, other wilderness education programs

Harbor cruises, lobster tour guides, and other motor-powered tourist boats, both as captain and as crew - you have the patter and the safety skills but you don't want to deal with the hassle of sails

Water taxis, ferries and other passenger vessels

Lobstering, fishing, aquaculture, tugboats, other non-tourist waterfront industries

Marine surveyor, marine electrician, other specialized technician

Working in a shipyard - good fit for all the fit-out skills of sanding, painting, varnishing, covering and uncovering the boat

Cruise ship hostess

Train conductor (the passion for the early 1900s carried over well)

Working at a a museum focused on local maritime history

Tour guide for local buses, walking tours, etc

Boatbuilder (IYRS, Wooden Boat School)

Teaching the captain's license courses (nota bene: there were obviously some other steps between deckhand and teacher, notably ten years of being a captain in between. But this is what they settled into when they decided sailing was too physically taxing, so I want to include it).

Carpentry, house painting

Designing and selling custom made van-homes (apart from the technical skills, living on board a ship helps familiarize making use of every square inch of space)

Sailmaker

Of course there's other friends who went on to try something completely new and unrelated - I think because so many of the people who start sailing tall ships are here for something completely new in the first place, that's not an intimidating prospect so much as an exciting one. But many of them did make use of tall ship skills even when moving on from tall ships, so I hope the above list is helpful in giving a broad sense of what can follow!

[blueiskewl]

Sunken Temples of Aphrodite and Amun Found off Egyptian Coast

New discoveries off Egyptian coast reveal ‘treasures and secrets

New “treasures and secrets” have been revealed at the site of a sunken temple off Egypt’s Mediterranean coast, the European Institute for Underwater Archaeology (IEASM) announced in a news release Tuesday.

An underwater archaeological team, led by French marine archaeologist Franck Goddio, has made further discoveries at the site of a temple to god Amun in the ancient port city of Thonis-Heracleion in the Bay of Aboukir, the institute said.

The team investigated the city’s south canal, where huge blocks of stone from the ancient temple collapsed “during a cataclysmic event dated to the mid-second century BC,” the institute said.

The temple to god Amun was where pharaohs came “to receive the titles of their power as universal kings from the supreme god of the ancient Egyptian pantheon,” it said.

“Precious objects belonging to the temple treasury have been unearthed, such as silver ritual instruments, gold jewelry and fragile alabaster containers for perfumes or unguents,” IEASM said. “They bear witness to the wealth of this sanctuary and the piety of the former inhabitants of the port city.”

The archaeological excavations, conducted jointly by Goddio’s team and the Department of Underwater Archaeology of the Ministry of Tourism and Antiquities of Egypt, revealed underground structures “supported by very well-preserved wooden posts and beams dating from the 5th century BC,” the institute said.

“It is extremely moving to discover such delicate objects, which survived intact despite the violence and magnitude of the cataclysm,” said Goddio, who is president of IEASM and director of excavations.

The discoveries were made possible thanks to the development and use of new geophysical prospecting technologies that can detect cavities and objects “buried under layers of clay several meters thick,” the institute said.

Relics from Greek presence, too

East of the Amun temple, a Greek sanctuary devoted to Aphrodite was discovered containing bronze and ceramic objects.

“This illustrates that Greeks who were allowed to trade and settle in the city during the time of the Pharaohs of the Saïte dynasty (664 - 525 BC) had their sanctuaries to their own gods,” the institute said.

The discoveries of Greek weapons also reveal the presence of Greek mercenaries in the area, IEASM said. “They were defending the access to the Kingdom at the mouth of the Canopic Branch of the Nile. This branch was the largest and the best navigable one in antiquity.”

The remains of Thonis-Heracleion are now located under the sea, 7 kilometers (4.3 miles) from the present coast of Egypt, IEASM said. The city was for centuries Egypt’s largest port on the Mediterranean before the founding of Alexandria by Alexander the Great in 331 BC.

“Rising sea levels and earthquakes followed by tidal waves triggering land liquefaction events, caused a 110 square kilometer portion of the Nile delta to totally disappear under the sea, taking with it the city of Thonis-Heracleion,” the institute said.

The city was discovered by the IEASM in 2000.

By Radina Gigova.

[tourismcampaigns]

We Are Here. Brave hearts of Ukraine

The campaign video was inspired by a famous video of a defiant President Zelensky stating “we are all here” on the first night of Russia’s invasion. The movie shown at ITB expands on this message, featuring Ukrainians who previously worked in the travel and tourism industry but are now contributing to the war effort. The campaign’s message is that Ukraine is still there, with all of its cities, wildlife, and culture for the world to discover once the crisis is resolved. Ukraine has a broad range of experiences waiting to be discovered, from the busy streets of Kyiv to the breathtaking scenery of the Carpathian Mountains, the bustling port city of Odesa to the attractive architecture of Lviv.

Ukraine is developing measures to repair our infrastructure, hotels, resorts, and attractions so that international visitors can return to Ukraine safely. They are committed to creating jobs in tourism, which will be critical to the rehabilitation of the tourism industry following our victory, and needs people to visit Ukraine and assist them in that effort.

The video depicts a side of Ukraine that shows Ukraine’s courage and the ongoing fight for the country’s future. Despite the challenges, Ukrainians remain unified in their determination to preserve their heritage and promoting Ukraine as a welcome and lively destination that should be on every prospective traveler’s bucket list.

[beraberblog]

ESTHETİCHAİRMEXİCO - DRAGON+ (4)

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[readingthenight]

The worst cities in India poll really made me think about Ahmedabad, where I spent a decade of my life, went to school, turned 18, and why it's the worst city in India.

1. It is genuinely the most communally and economically segregated city in India. Muslim residents are forced into ghettoes and all economic opportunities and real estate is seized by upper caste Hindus and Jains. I went to a school in the Hindu part of Ahmedabad and had one Muslim classmate the whole time. There was no Eid holiday.

2. Ahmedabad has a truly vile history of Anti-Muslim pogroms. The 2002 genocide was so horrific beyond words that I don't think there's been that kind of mass destruction in the country except for the Partition.

3. Ahmedabad and its residents facilitate and support Modi, Shah, and the BJP - much of their power came from Ahmedabad, and they are now trying to make UP what Gujarat is.

4. Alcohol is prohibited because Gandhi was born there. This has led to an underground bootlegging culture which disproportionately affects economically disadvantaged populations and leads to many deaths due to spurious alcohol. Also makes for one hell of a boring city.

5. Speaking of Gandhi, the whole city is obsessed with him, and there's a whole tourism economy dedicated to him with no reflection on his racism, casteism, and r*pe.

6. Speaking of tourism, there is absolutely nothing to do or see in the city. It truly has erased whatever culture it had to begin with.

7. This is because the culture is dominated by UC Hindus and Jains and caters to their preferences. Of course it's boring. While they drink alcohol at house parties, the working class folks have to follow rules which of course don't apply to the rich. Restaurants in other cities have alcohol menus, Ahmedabad restaurants have no onion no garlic menus.

8. Unless you study commerce or medicine, there is absolutely nothing for you here in terms of career prospects. Forget trying to stay in Ahmedabad if you studied humanities, because the city has killed the prospect of communities around the arts.

9. There is a very hostile attitude towards non-vegetarian food - I've been told my house smells like fish, I probably eat anything etc etc. Housing communities are illegally "pure veg". Also for everything that gets said about it being safe....try wearing a dress and going out. There is no non veg street food. Food courts don't serve non veg food. This is not normal.

10. Even the "liberal" circuit is painfully elite and gatekeepy.

[katiajewelbox]

Breaking News: CERN's Particle Experiment Opens Portal to Gaea!

In an unprecedented event that has scientists and fantasy fans alike buzzing with excitement, physicists at CERN have accidentally stumbled upon a gateway to another world. During a routine particle acceleration experiment, a colossal pillar of light erupted into the sky, visible from miles around. But this was no ordinary atmospheric phenomenon; it was a portal to the phantom planet Gaea, known to many from the beloved anime series Vision of Escaflowne.

As if torn straight from the pages of a science fiction novel, the pillar of light has become a bridge between Earth and Gaea, allowing for an exchange of not just ideas, but people. Reports are flooding in from all over the globe of individuals being transported to and from Gaea, sparking a frenzy of potential interplanetary tourism and cultural exchange.

Entrepreneurs are already drafting business plans for the first-ever interplanetary travel agencies, offering tours of Gaea's breathtaking landscapes and ancient ruins. Meanwhile, scientists are giddy at the prospect of sharing knowledge and technology with their Gaeanean counterparts, hoping to unlock the mysteries of the universe together.

As we stand at the cusp of this new era, one thing is certain: the future is filled with endless possibilities. So, pack your bags and prepare for an adventure that's out of this world—literally!

Happy April Fools' Day to all, and to all a good flight!

Enjoy the playful twist and have a fantastic April Fools' Day!

Art: DALL E 3 AI art based on my prompt

[carnivorousyandeere]

i need to know what your werewolf pack's ideal 'date nights' with their darling would be. together or separate!! and you CANNOT ask me why

- mazzy 💕

AYE AYE! Separate first, then some together! This is such a fun question thank you Mazzy 😭💕

Mateo- restaurant dates, both super casual AND super fancy. At the fast food restaurants he likes being side by side in a booth and sharing a milkshake (he’s also the kind of person to eat your fries). At a fancy restaurant, Mateo likes sitting in a secluded table across from you, teasing you and rubbing his foot up your calf to see if you’ll break and drag him off to the restroom 😳. And Mateo adores watching movies with you, especially horror.

Hana- going skateboarding together, and showing off her cool new moves~! Hana is also fond of casual movie night dates, with tons of snacks and a whole pillow fort. A big bonding thing for her with friends and romantic prospects, if you’re comfortable with it, is smoking weed or taking edibles together.

Cyrus- hiking together, and also aquarium dates (although you’ll have to drive or get on a bus a long way to a city big enough to have one). He also likes having sleepovers, and just talking late into the night~💕

Ace- urban exploring. The town the lodge is connected to is an old industrial town that fell off as factories moved shop elsewhere, and the lodge is only just beginning to bring tourism money into the community. So there’s still a lot of abandoned factories and houses to explore, and Ace loves it if you’ll come with him. Who knows? Maybe the town has some secrets left to be discovered~

Hunter- if you’re the outdoorsy type, Hunter would adoooore taking you camping. He loves cuddling you next to a good campfire, or the lodge’s main fireplace when you’re indoors. Hunter really just loves cuddling and soaking up your warmth, listening to you talk about your day. A date night out might be going to a bar together, getting some drinks and food, maybe watching some sports. Sorry this one is already soooo long BUT Hunter also has those linecook skills, those chef skills, and he will make DELICIOUS home cooked meals for the both of you with a tablecloth and candles and everything and like, put on music and dance with you in the kitchen and just. aaa 🥹

Mason- Mason also likes taking you to the bar with him to decompress after work~! Other than that, he’ll take you out for food and shopping (when he’s satisfied you won’t run away). It makes Mason feel very warm and content seeing your excited expression as you show him things you like, or that you think he’ll like. He also likes sitting together and reading or watching tv ❤️

Together:

Hana and Mateo— movies, pillow forts

Hana, Mateo, and Ace— parties!!!

Ace, Hana, and Cyrus— Ace can sometimes convince those two “goody-two-shoes,” (his words not mine) to go exploring with him, by convincing Cyrus there could be interesting environmental info and double-dog-daring Hana, and they all feel more comfortable when you come with 💕

Ace, Hunter, and Mason— they can all play nice to have a nice night out at the bar, with Mason and Hunter to help keep Ace in check.

Hunter and Mason— they’ll be more relaxed without having to worry about Ace (sorry 💀), and have fun hanging out at the bar, or even breaking into Mason’s vintage liquor collection if you’re up for it.

All of the wolves— They like roaming the woods together, sometimes. A big group date night they all like sitting around a bonfire, talking and eating and just having some free time on a nice clear evening. The whole pack also adores changing into their full wolf forms to sleep on top of you and each other in a cuddle pile sometimes 🥰

Any other combination I didn’t mention could probably also go for a nice movie night in with you ☺️

[randomnameless]

@cherry-blossom-inferno replied to your post “Which are the biggest examples of cowardice from...”:

This is wrong though. We do have Holst's reaction to Claude's ideas. It's in his A support with Claude and Holst is cool with it. He even calls himself Claude's #1 fan.

​Thanks to your comment, I realised I forgot a word in the earlier post lol (tfw you type on mobile)

If the Goneril issue was adressed, we could have had Hilda/Holst/their mom/their second degree cousin say that they are at least treating the Almyran children as human beings (lel) which is already giving them more care than what Almyrans do when they raid and pillage and “rampage” in Fodlan cities - maybe with some sort of Matthias-like example, Almyrans killing a pregnant woman, or, idk to keep in the “grandma from the 1800s tells me what the Orient is like” bias, captured women or what not

But as I typed it under this paragraph, it's only fuel for an AU (I didn't forgot the tag this time!) so yes, canon Holst and Claude support doesn't match this, because this is an AU, or a headcanon if you prefer.

That being said, Holst's reaction to Claude's ideas are sort of what the anon was talking about?

Canon Holst gives this :

And you also wish to establish relations with people from other lands, and those who follow other faiths. Is that accurate? Does this also extend to Fódlan's Throat? Will you throw open its gates and look to establish a friendly relationship with the Almyrans?

Logically, Holst wonders about "people from other lands" and the prospect of establishing friendly relationships with Almyrans.

And what of House Goneril, a family long seen as the enemy of the Almyrans?

Holst makes explicit mention of his house, who has been tasked with protecting the border since, well, idk when. Even if he sorts of reverse the issue for me, as the head of House Goneril, should he call himself someone who is seen as "the enemy of the Almyrans", and not put his people situation's first, saying House Goneril has been protecting Fodlan from Almyra, instead of being its enemy?

Would you send its only daughter to form a marital bond with the Almyran royal family? Is that a possible scenario?

And then all of the plot intricacies disappear in thin air, this is the equivalent of a Fjorming Bond or even worse, a FB being taken over by Ilyana with her "i love to eat" trope - this support might have tackled the year of prejudice Holst (and Hilda, as it is revealed in Houses!) have, arguably because they are protecting their people from Nader's weekly "rampages" or "tourism".

Or, idk, when Holst mentioned wanting to created "friendly relationships with Almyra", Claude might have added "friendly means feeding them everyday if you're taking prisoners, even children".

As the Nopes canon conversation goes, we basically have the equivalent of Caineghis agreeing with whoever was the sick fuck who enslaved Muarim to build "friendly relationships" between Laguz and Beorcs. And instead of talking about Muarim or the enslaved Laguz, we talk about Lyre's future prospects for marriage.

As @megafan1993 pointed out, even if we only have NPCs without a sprite, the Sreng/Faerghus conflict is tackled more seriously and with more gravitas than what was supposed to be Claude's core points (or one of his cores?), the prejudice between Fodlan and Almyra. We have a conflict based on ressources, resentment on both sides, civilians/non-fighters being targeted by both Faerghus/Sreng, extreme prejudice and an idiot who thinks it's time to stop and tries to stop the conflict.

On the other hand, you have an Almyran Prince who doesn't seem to be aware of the weekly raids, who wants to open borders regardless of said weekly raids, the House who defends their land from weekly raids has resentment against Almyrans, to the point of taking their children and "feeding them every 29th of February" - and yet we're supposed to believe the fissure between Fodlan and Almyra is mended in GW/VW off-screen because everyone loves to drink, to the point where Almyrans pillaging and rampaging in cities is nothing more than a joke, and no one ever gives a fuck about the "fed only every 29th of February" children?

We instead have a "joke" about Holst giving his blessings to marrying off his sister to Almyran Royalty ?

If Nopes (and arguably, Houses) didn't want to treat the "bridging the gap between two warring states" seriously and wanted to have a more Awakening-like resolution to conflicts only existing in the BG to provide sobby backstories to characters, then why did they brought more serious writing regarding Faerghus, and arguably, the CoS's writing?

House Goneril saw Almyrans as"rough and unreliable", people who "attack without reason and break treaties and tell lies" or are "brutes".

Holst seemed more open-minded than his sister regarding Almyrans (even if, apparently, you can still be "a prisoner fed once in a blue moon" and respected in Holst's mind?) but, once again, those previous bias are never adressed in Nopes, especially when Shahid apparently "attacks without reason", when nader is "rough" and a "brute" when he wants to bring souvenirs or pillage or rampage in cities the Federation is going to fight in, or even when Claude and his Almyran allies "break treaties" by letting Randolph die.

Tl;Dr : when canon sucks, people come up with transformative works