black sails s2

5

black sails + historical figures

{eta: please read this regarding anne bonny’s unverified date of death}

4

Okay I love this scene and I want to wax lyrical about it for a mo.

Because it’s so gentle.

So often in media, when (on those rare occasions) you do see two men kiss, it can be rough, or aggressive, or fiercely passionate. Which is fine, depending on the circumstances (although sometimes it is jarring if the intensity of the kiss is disproportionate to the scene.)

But this is so soft and warm and lovely.

And they easily could have played it different. We’ve seen the badass that James can be, the strength and violence he has in him. They so easily could have turned this into something fierce, something possessive and manly.

But it’s not. It’s gentle and slow and full of joy and relief. And that’s such a wonderful thing to see in a series that is so often full of pain and blood and violence.

I just love this scene a lot okay?

8

Black Sails + Greek words for love (insp)

6

“You fucked the dairy goat?”

4

the moment I sign that pardon, the moment I ask for one, I proclaim to the world that they were right.

Silver: So are you the big spoon or the little spoon?
Flint: I’m a knife.

Thomas, not even looking up from his book: He’s the little spoon.

(insp.)

4

When Anne was recruiting spies in Port Royal, she met a man with an estate in the wilderness, north of Spanish Florida. A reform-minded man who uses convicts as laborers. Convicts he solicits from prisons in England where their treatment is far less humane. This man, we were told, found it profitable to offer his services to wealthy families, some of the most prominent in London on occasion, with a need to make troublesome family members disappear. Cared for, tended to, but never to be seen or heard from again. 

6

I was born in Whitechapel, never knew my mother. I had a wholly unremarkable youth. Spent most of it at a home for -
Home for boys. I know, I know. You, uh you told me once or twice of your experiences there. Except it isn’t true. Is it?
Why would you say that?
I remember when you first told me, it sounded like an invention. About one story that bled into others I’d heard told elsewhere to the crew. I didn’t think much of it at the time. I suppose I assumed that if you ever became somebody worth knowing, I’d learn the truth of it eventually. Only in this moment, I’m realizing that never happened. And what is of some concern to me is that despite how invested we each are in the future of the other you just told me that story again.