#max/anne
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theartofangirling · 5 months ago
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there's no need to be brave
[watch on youtube]
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redwiccanrobin · 2 years ago
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I kind of realized what makes me so attracted to queer love stories such as Ian/Mickey from Shameless (US) and Max/Anne from Black Sails.
There’s been this sort of narrative in the queer community about representation. There’s this heavy emphasis on portraying sweet, cute, bright characters. Characters that don’t exactly make you uncomfortable, their hardships can’t be too hard. Which is all well and fine. But what about those of us who aren’t squeaky clean?
I’m a complicated individual. There’s a darkness in me that I’ve hidden for so long out of fear that I would be judged. I couldn’t see myself truly in the characters that were being pushed to the forefront of queer rep. It made me kind of lonely. A little insecure too. Felt like I wasn’t being queer in the palpable way. Because the characters that were like me were shunned and condemned for how bad they were.
Seeing the ships I mentioned before and the love they got gave me an odd sense of comfort. They were dark, like me. They had demons, like me. They had to fight to survive, like me. And they found each other. They came to love each other. Maybe I could find love too then. It’s silly, really. But a lot of my comfort comes through media. I’m passionate about media analysis. Characters imprint themselves onto me whether that be in a good or bad way. Mickey, Ian, Anne, Max imprinted themselves on me in a very good way.
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theonottsbxtch · 2 months ago
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“charles verstappen, wait no fuck ch-“
“who knows maybe max will name his son that”
french comms never change i BEG you 😭😭
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a-story-is-true · 1 year ago
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good luck, babe!
[on youtube]
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kuzuyamii · 1 year ago
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happy anniversary to whatever is going on in this show
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grabyourpillow · 4 months ago
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I think Black Sails is a good example of flawed characters vs flawed writing like. The universe of the show is harsh towards women, most of the men are violent, misogynistic, pirate drunks, who the minute Eleanor is in a more vulnerable position are like "she never deserved the position anyway" and YET the narrative is SO KIND towards women (and other less privileged people)? The narrative SHOWS them as smart, strong, vulnerable flawed beings with their own goals? Shows their mistreatment and pain as being PAINFUL and not sexy?
I don't know how it fucking does it, I haven't figured it out yet
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blacksailsblr · 8 months ago
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BLACK SAILS 1.02 “II.” 4.02 “XXX.” 4.04 “XXXII.”
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metamorphesque · 1 year ago
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musings on grief
Lisa Marie Basile, Nick Alm, Callista Buchen, Max Porter, Gustav Klimt, Fortesa Latifi, Safet Zec, Anna Akhmatova, Chen Chen, Sergey Andriyaka, Anne Carson, Svetlana Tartakovska, Max Porter, Lindsey Kustusch, Patrick Kavanagh
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amarantheia · 2 years ago
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Today's a personal Black Sails Anniversary for me, so posting this drawing of my faves from my fave show as a tiny celebration
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keivni · 4 months ago
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happy valentine's day or something like that
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flintmcgraw · 4 months ago
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Portraiture practice! (Click for higher quality)
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theonottsbxtch · 7 months ago
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MISS YOU BABY | MV1
an: i need a hug from max verstappen stat, based off this request! thank you for sending it :)
summary: max thought his girlfriend was missing his final race during his triple header, little did he know she'd planned to come and visit all along.
wc 3.6k
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The hotel room she was in was quiet.
She sat cross-legged on the bed in a dark hotel room that mirrored his, only three floors below, making sure he couldn’t see her surroundings. Her phone was propped up against a pillow, and Max’s face filled the screen, his hair still damp from the shower, tousled and messy. He looked worn-out but managed a small, tired smile just for her.
"I’m sorry, Max. I really tried to get time off, but there was just… no way," she said, the fib slipping from her lips with surprising ease. "I wanted to be there with you. Especially now."
Max exhaled, leaning back against his headboard. “I know. It’s alright.” His voice softened. “I just miss you, is all. It’s been a rough couple of weeks.”
She nodded, biting the inside of her cheek, wishing she could reach through the screen and wrap her arms around him. "You’ll get through it, though. You always do."
"Doesn’t feel that way." He laughed, but it was brittle around the edges. “I feel like I’m letting everyone down. The team, the fans… you.” His eyes searched the screen, as if he might find a solution hidden somewhere in her gaze.
"Never me." She leaned closer, her face so near to the camera that she could see her reflection in his eyes. "I’m so proud of you, Max. Always. No matter what."
For a moment, he just looked at her, his expression softening, and the tension she’d seen in his face for days seemed to melt, just a little. "I wish you were here," he murmured. "I swear, you’re the only thing that keeps me sane sometimes."
She swallowed, feeling her heart pull toward him with a force that was hard to resist. "Soon, I’ll be back with you. Just… hold on a bit longer, okay?”
She gazed at his face on the screen, her heart swelling as she watched the way his eyes softened every time he looked at her. She knew he was tired and worn down, but in this moment, he looked at peace.
"I love you, Max," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.
He closed his eyes, letting the words wash over him, and when he opened them again, there was a warmth there that seemed to cut through the miles between them. "I love you, too," he replied, a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "More than you know."
She tucked her hair behind her ear, feeling her cheeks flush, and nodded. "Get some sleep, alright? Big day tomorrow."
He grinned. "Yeah, yeah. You, too. Dream about me, okay?"
She laughed, rolling her eyes, but her heart skipped all the same. "Always. Goodnight, Max."
"Goodnight, love."
With a final smile, she ended the call, letting the screen go dark as she leaned back into the pillows, her heart fluttering with anticipation. She’d hardly been able to sleep on the plane ride here, and she could already tell tonight would be the same.
Still, the thought of finally seeing him in person tomorrow kept her too giddy to care. She’d surprise him at the track, slipping through the garage just as he arrived, or maybe even at breakfast if she could manage it without spoiling the surprise. Her mind spun with ideas, each more elaborate than the last, but all she really wanted was to see his face light up when he realised she was there.
Pulling the covers up to her chin, she let her eyes drift closed, replaying the moment over and over in her mind, savouring the thought of his reaction. She loved him fiercely, and she knew that being here—no matter how much of a secret she’d had to make it—was exactly where she was supposed to be.
As she finally began to drift off, her last thought was simple but bright, shining like a promise: Tomorrow, he’ll know.
And while she was glad she held onto the secret.
The following morning she wished she’d told him earlier.
She woke to the faint glow of her phone on the nightstand, her morning alarm. Blinking herself awake, she squinted at the screen and saw Max’s name, followed by the time—5:02 a.m.
Heading to the track early today. Miss you already, wish you were here.
She smiled, feeling that familiar warmth spreading through her chest. But then her heart sank a little. She’d been hoping to catch him in the hotel this morning, maybe surprise him over breakfast. Now, with him already gone, she'd have to adjust her plans.
Throwing back the covers, she got up and went to the window. Rain streaked down the glass in thick, heavy drops, and the sky was a murky grey. The weather was only supposed to get worse throughout the day; she knew that’d make things complicated, especially for an outdoor track. She had no clue if her surprise would even be worth the stress of navigating the drenched, crowded paddock.
After a moment’s hesitation, she tapped her phone, scrolling through her contacts until she reached the name she wanted. She dialled, and after a few rings, Max’s assistant, Sophie, picked up.
“Hey!” Sophie greeted, sounding pleasantly surprised. “What’s up? Did you make it in?”
“Yes, I’m here!” she whispered, unable to contain her excitement. “I wanted to surprise him before he heads out on track, but with this rain… do you think I should even bother?”
Sophie sighed sympathetically. “Honestly, it’s a mess out here. They’re saying the rain’s going to be even heavier by the time qualifying starts. He’ll be in back-to-back meetings until then, and I’d hate for you to sit in the rain, just to get a few minutes with him.”
She nodded, glancing out the window at the sheets of rain. “So you think I should wait?”
“I’d say hold off until right before the race,” Sophie replied. “He’ll have a short break, and I think he’d love the surprise then. Plus, everyone’s less frantic between qualifying and race prep.”
“Good point,” she agreed, a little disappointed but knowing Sophie was right. The track on a rainy race day was chaos, and if she could avoid it until the right moment, she’d have a better chance of actually spending time with him. “Thanks, Sophie. Let me know if anything changes?”
“Will do! He’ll be so happy to see you,” Sophie said warmly. “Hang tight, okay?”
As she hung up, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement, knowing the surprise would be even more perfect with the wait. So she ordered herself a coffee, sat by the window, and watched the rain pour down, imagining the look on Max’s face when he’d finally see her just before the most important race of the weekend.
The rain hadn’t let up by the time she arrived at the track, the skies dark and moody, the air thick with humidity. She’d navigated her way through security and weaving lines of drenched fans, her heart racing as she got closer to Max’s garage. But by the time she finally made it, he was already in the car, helmet on, visor down, his focus entirely on the track ahead.
Her heart sank a little as she scanned the bustling garage, hoping for some last chance to catch his eye. But he was already strapped in, a crew member leaning in to give him a final check before he rolled out. She spotted Sophie in the corner, scribbling something down on a clipboard, and made her way over to her.
“Hey,” she whispered, feeling the dampness of the rain still clinging to her hair and clothes. “I… I just missed him, didn’t I?”
Sophie looked up and gave her a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, he was swamped the moment he got here. They barely had time to get him settled with all the delays.” She gestured to the grid display above them, where Max’s name glowed beside the stark “P17” position. “Rough start, but he’ll be glad to know you’re here.”
She nodded, feeling a pang as she glanced at his car just as it rumbled to life. His fingers flexed on the steering wheel, even from a distance she could see the tension there. She let out a breath, feeling a swell of pride and worry all at once. “Well, I’ll be here watching, then.”
Sophie handed her a headset, which she slipped on just in time to hear his engineer’s voice crackle through with the first instructions as they prepared for the start. The rain was relentless, turning the track into a slick, treacherous maze, and she felt her stomach twist as the cars peeled out onto the track for the formation lap. Max’s car trailed near the back, but she knew he’d fight, as he always did, with a ferocity she both admired and feared in moments like this.
The race began, a chaotic blur of spray and metal, the cars kicking up rooster tails of water, visibility nearly zero as they fought for position. She gripped the edge of her seat as the laps ticked by, heart pounding with every close call. It quickly became clear that the conditions were only worsening, drivers struggling to keep their cars on track, a few even skidding off into barriers with loud, bone-jarring crashes. Her hands tightened around the headset as Max navigate his way forward, battling his way to P10, then P6.
And then, just when the tension seemed to reach its peak, there was a deafening crash, followed by a sudden hush as the red flag went up, halting the race.
Her breath caught in her throat. The screen above replayed the incident—a skidding into the barrier that had caused an emergency stop. The seconds felt like hours as she waited, desperately searching for a glimpse of his car on the feed. Finally, there it was, intact, safe. Relief flooded her, and she felt her shoulders sag.
The race restarted after the delay, and she watched in awe as Max took advantage of the reshuffled positions and tire changes, surging forward with a newfound intensity. Lap by lap, he clawed his way through the field, passing car after car with a precision that made her heart race. It was as if he’d transformed, harnessing every ounce of his frustration from the last few races, channelling it into something extraordinary.
The garage erupted in cheers as he moved into P3, then P1. She stared at the screen, hardly daring to blink, her heart racing as he crossed the finish line in first place, drenched in rain and glory.
She could hardly believe it. From P17 to P1. He’d done it.
Forgetting herself, she laughed, a sound of pure joy, her heart swelling as she watched him slow down, the victory finally sinking in. She couldn't wait to see his face when he finally realised she was here, to be the first person he’d see when he stepped out of that car, soaked and grinning, finally at the top.
Ripping her headset off, she followed the crew as they ran out to parc fermé, her heart racing as fast as the roar of the crowd. The team, buzzing with excitement, parted slightly as she joined them, nudging her to the front so she’d be the first face he saw. She could barely breathe as she caught sight of Max’s car, now still, the rain glistening on its blue-and-red bodywork.
With all the force he had he climbed out, pulling off his helmet to reveal damp, messy hair and a face lit up with exhilaration and disbelief. For a moment, he simply stood there, taking in the shouts of the crowd and the blinding flashes of cameras. And then, his gaze landed on her.
His eyes widened, his exhaustion and surprise giving way to pure joy. Without hesitation, he broke into a run, crossing the slick tarmac with the kind of speed and determination that made her heart leap. She barely had a second to react before he wrapped her in his arms, his lips crashing against hers as he pulled her close, his hands pressed firmly against her back, as if he still couldn’t believe she was real.
“You came,” he murmured breathlessly, pulling back just enough to look at her, his face filled with awe and happiness.
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” she replied, her voice trembling with emotion, brushing a wet strand of hair from his face.
He smiled, a bright, unguarded smile that melted her heart. “God, I needed this. I needed you.”
And then he kissed her again, a kiss filled with all the missed moments and the words they hadn’t been able to say, the thrill of his victory mingling with the fierce love they shared. She felt the rain soak through her clothes, the crowd and the noise around them fading as they held each other, his arms wrapping around her as if he could protect her from the rest of the world.
“I still can’t believe it,” he whispered against her lips, his forehead resting against hers, his hand gently brushing her cheek. “P1. And you’re here.”
She laughed softly, her eyes shining. “You deserve it, Max. I knew you could do it.”
He held her close, a triumphant laugh bubbling from his chest as he buried his face in her neck, and they stood there in the pouring rain, lost in each other, savouring the victory and this long-awaited moment they both knew they’d never forget.
As the noise of the cheering crew and fans started to swell around them, Max pulled back slightly, brushing his thumb across her cheek, his gaze lingering on her face as if he was trying to commit every detail to memory.
“I have to go,” he said softly, his voice tinged with regret. “The interviews, cool-down room, podium… but wait for me? I’ll meet you in my driver’s room as soon as I can.”
She nodded, understanding but already missing the warmth of his arms. “I’ll be waiting. Go,” she whispered, giving him a small smile. “Enjoy every second—you deserve it.”
He pressed one last, lingering kiss to her forehead, then turned and jogged off to join the waiting crew, helmet in hand, while she stayed rooted to her spot, watching him disappear into the crowd. Her heart swelled with pride as she trailed after the team to watch his interviews, his beaming, breathless face glowing with pride and energy as he spoke about the gruelling conditions and the unbelievable climb from P17 to P1.
Then came the cool-down room, where she watched from the sidelines as he bantered with the other drivers, sharing exhausted smiles and congratulatory claps on the back, the weight of his achievement settling in as he finally let himself relax a little. She couldn’t help but smile, feeling as though she could burst with joy just watching him, his eyes sparking with energy even as he looked ready to collapse from exhaustion.
And finally, the podium. She felt the crowd’s excitement echo through her as she looked up to see him standing tall, drenched from head to toe, a bottle of champagne in hand. When he raised it in victory, the crowd erupted, and she joined them, cheering at the top of her lungs as he sprayed champagne with abandon, laughing as he celebrated with the other drivers. His eyes swept over the crowd, and when they found hers, he gave a subtle nod, a silent promise that he’d be back with her soon.
After the podium, she made her way to his driver’s room, her heart fluttering as she paced the small space, the thrill of the day lingering in every fibre of her being. And then, finally, the door swung open, and there he was.
He looked completely worn out, his hair still damp and messy, his fireproof undersuit clinging to his skin. But his smile was bright, and his eyes lit up the moment he saw her.
Without a word, he crossed the room, pulling her into his arms, his lips finding hers in a soft, exhausted kiss. She melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as he held her close, the adrenaline and joy from his victory radiating between them.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy,” he whispered against her ear, his voice low and hoarse. “Winning today… and having you here with me. It’s everything.”
She brushed a strand of damp hair from his face, smiling as she traced her fingers along his cheek. “You did it, Max. I’m so proud of you.”
He took her hand, pressing it to his heart, his eyes never leaving hers. “None of it would mean anything without you,” he said quietly, his voice steady.
She felt her eyes sting with tears, overwhelmed by the depth of his words. “I’m here,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ll always be here.”
They stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world slipping away. He stroked her hair, pressing gentle kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, as if savouring each moment.
“Let’s get out of here,” he finally murmured, his voice warm and soft, “celebrate somewhere a little less chaotic.”
She laughed, nodding. “Anywhere, as long as it’s with you.”
They headed back to his hotel, hand in hand, a peaceful quiet settling over them as they left the track behind. Once in the privacy of his suite, he gave her a lingering kiss, then smiled, nodding toward the bathroom. “Give me a few minutes to wash off all the champagne and… probably half the track dust,” he said with a laugh.
She grinned, watching as he disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the suite a moment later. While he showered, she took the opportunity to pack up her things from her own room, gathering her scattered belongings quickly. The thrill of being close, of finally sharing a space for the night, filled her with a warmth that had nothing to do with the tropical heat outside.
By the time she returned, he was out of the shower, towelling off his damp hair, his expression softening as he took in the sight of her standing there with her things. Without a word, he crossed the room and took her bags from her hands, setting them by the closet as he gave her a smile that made her heart skip.
Once they’d both changed into fresh clothes—she’d opted for a simple dress, and he in casual jeans and a loose shirt—they slipped out of the hotel through a side exit, making their way to a tiny, tucked-away Brazilian restaurant that had been recommended. The place was hidden, small enough to be missed by the crowds, with soft, low lighting that created an intimate, cosy atmosphere. A few locals lingered around tables, but they paid little attention to the couple as they took a corner table in the back.
They ordered caipirinhas and he reached across the table to hold her hand, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her skin as they laughed over silly little things, shared stories from the past few weeks, and spoke of things beyond racing, beyond work, just slipping back into the easy flow they always shared. The food was rich and delicious—small plates of feijoada, grilled meats, and pão de queijo—everything flavorful and homey.
He leaned across the table, his eyes warm and filled with that familiar spark, as he watched her speak, clearly savouring every moment. “You know,” he said softly, “I think this is the best victory celebration I’ve ever had.”
She squeezed his hand, smiling back at him. “Same here. I missed just… being with you like this.”
They stayed until the restaurant closed, lingering over the last bites of dessert, letting the night stretch out as long as possible. Eventually, they headed back to the hotel, the city streets now quiet and still beneath the soft hum of streetlights.
Once back in his room, Max changed into a pair of soft pyjama bottoms, leaving his chest bare, his skin still warm from the shower. She slipped into one of his t-shirts, the fabric soft and oversized, the scent of him comforting and familiar. When she stepped out the bathroom, he was already waiting for her by the bed, his gaze softening as he took her in, a gentle smile curving on his lips.
Without a word, he reached for her, lacing his fingers through hers as he pulled her close, guiding her to the bed. She sank into the mattress beside him, and he wrapped an arm around her, drawing her against his chest, his fingertips trailing absently over her shoulder. She nestled into him, feeling his warmth seep through her, a cosy silence wrapping around them.
They lay there, tangled together, her head tucked beneath his chin as he gently traced circles on her back, his breath even and steady. He tilted her chin up, his eyes searching hers for a quiet moment before he leaned down, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss, filled with a tenderness that said everything words couldn’t. She kissed him back just as gently, savouring the intimacy of being close like this, the world beyond these walls feeling miles away.
When the kiss ended, he pressed his forehead to hers, a soft sigh escaping as he held her close, one hand settling over hers, fingers intertwined. They stayed that way, her head resting against his heartbeat, lulled by the steady rhythm.
Finally, they drifted off, still tangled in each other’s arms, wrapped up in the warmth and comfort of just being together. As the night settled around them, Max couldn’t help but smile, holding her a little closer as he slipped into sleep, his heart full and light.
Max couldn’t have wished for a better weekend.
the end.
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erodingsinner · 2 months ago
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#blacksailsweek25:
DAY 6 — PARALLELS.
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a-story-is-true · 1 year ago
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a story is true, a story is untrue
[on youtube with subtitles]
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manabombs · 1 year ago
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text free + close ups ✨
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theartofangirling · 1 month ago
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what would have been enough?
[hd + subtitles on youtube]
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