CHINHANDS talk to me about gates + tactile headcanons.

Hal has been at sea for a very long time. He has learned to keep his hands to himself, for the most part. That said he is both a very tactile and very territorial man at heart – which causes him to orbit those he considers to be his rather well. He is always within arms distance of them – or, keeping an eye on them from a considerable distance, which is an old habit he never broke from his time as a crack shot up in the crow’s nest. He’s got a deep seated appreciation for the bird’s eye view, to be sure. 

When he feels it will not go amiss, he is not above reaching out and clasping arms and shoulders, or even guiding people with a hand on the small of their back. The closer he gets to someone though, the more hands on he becomes, to the point of grabbing them by their ears to haul them out of a room or straight up throwing them over his shoulder when he has had enough of their bullshit for one night.

I keep saying they – and that is deliberate, because contrary to his babysitting contract frequent proximity to Flint, the man is not the only person Hal cares about – and is frequently exasperated by. Claiming Billy as a son to him goes well beyond feeling responsible for him – it also means butting heads constantly and trusting that it will resolve due to a mutual sense of camaraderie. He is as likely to haul Billy by his ear as he is to haul Flint, really. 

As a whole, Hal takes the entire crew of the Walrus as his own. He is defensive of each and every one of them, and considering some can be right shits for brains, it does mean he’s as likely to be carrying one of his own out of a bar as he is to be dropping men to the ground for trying to start shit with his boys to begin with. 

The only member of the crew Hal hasn’t grown exasperated with to the point of manhandling is Joji. Though he’d never indicate as much to anyone, Joji is low key his favorite because he never does anything fucking ridiculous, and on a ship full of dodos, that is a goddamn blessing.

oceanfoamed:

As penned by Holmes, this account is a private and exclusive roleplaying multimuse dedicated solely to the Age of Sail and the fandoms that fall within her umbrella.

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About The Mun

Note; I get that this is a reblog and fill it out form but I actually? Hate that so I’m reposting but I was tagged by @intolerablexsacrifice​ and here’s the original form for ya’ll

In general:

Real name: I go by Holmes.

Nicknames: Holmie / Homie

Age: 29

Sexuality: *bangs frying pans*

Prefered pronouns: What is the current moon phase? He / Him.

Are you a morning person?: Ahahaha, oh, hon. I work nights for a reason.

When swimming, do you prefer to do it in the ocean, or in a lake?:  Honestly I just love swimming? Prior to moving out to where the ocean lives I would have been like, ‘lake! ocean is scary’ but then I met the ocean and wow that is a thundering lie it doesn’t matter what the weather is like outside if I see ocean my shoes are off and I am in – but like, literally, throw me in front of water and the real magic trick is keeping me out of it. Rivers too! Why do we always leave rivers out of these things, what did they ever do to us other than be awesome for existing? 

On Tumblr:

Anyone you would like to meet in real life?: @the-empires is all that is left on my bucket list but if I get to know some more folks I imagine they will pop on the list. Also Aang.

Anyone you have met in real life?: I lived with @tidefated for awhile, and @seafaired is going to be moving in with me in 10 days oh my gosh. I am so hyped! She spent a week here so this isn’t our first time meeting but yeah – it’s a big deal imho xD 

When did you first join? How old is your current account?: Uh back in lae 2012, rpc wise mid 2013. This account is spiffy new, still has  squeaky mint smell. It was made June 15, 2018 — that said, the original incarnation of the blog was born January of 2018 – so uh. Still minty.

Any peeves?: Themes for ants. Photoshop queens and their obsession with ‘where in the world is carmen sandiego’ when it comes to finding their links – and sometimes the actual post content? Why this – we are here to write together, are we not? Then why can’t I read anything? And also, Rorschach test icons. You know the ones. The kind where the contrast is so damn high you feel you’re taking an ink blot test – and even squinting you can’t make shit out very well because not only is the contrast amped to 600 the goddamn icon is made for bees. 50×50? And smaller? I won’t even follow. Legit I have refused to follow people over icons, if you refuse to be accessible, I refuse to want anything to do with your content and that is the fucking tea lmao. 

Unpopular opinion: TBH Malakh covered this really well in his version of this post, with the comment on purity culture, so uh. That. All of it.

Feelings:

Do you easily get jealous?: Honestly no. I am petty about a lot of really insignificant things but jealousy isn’t something I’ve experienced since I was a teenager.

Do you easily get angry?: Depends on the situation.

Are you easy to cheer up?: Generally only if I want to cheer up. Sometimes, I am Kublai Khan.

What’s the most hurtful thing someone could do to you?: Why the hell would I tell the internet?

What’s the most hurtful thing someone has done to you?: One time there was only one mango left and I got it and then my sister who was literally still in diapers at the time clocked me so hard I went down like a stone and she stole my mango >: It’s been 22 years and I am still not over it. 

Are you good at hiding your emotions?: Arguably too good.

What’s the very best way to cheer you up?: Change the topic or use animal gifs. Generally speaking telling me what to do is only going to turn a generalized bad mood into a bad mood directed at you. Especially if you use a condescending or holier than thou tone I swear to fuck I will eat you alive. 

Relationships:

Are you currently in a relationship?: I am very committed to defying the socially accepted ideology that a person is only a whole person if they have another person to confirm it. The pressure our society puts on people, the shame that our society weaponizes against people who choose to live their lives without pairing off like monkeys in a zoo is ridiculous to me. I am single, happy to be so, and honestly love Valentines Day more than ever before thanks to the super easy access to buttloads of cheap chocolate on the 15th. 

Do you currently have a crush on someone?: No? I mean I think there are some very attractive celebrities out there ( both physically and based loosely on things I’ve read about them while snooping for things due to faceclaim needs ) but I wouldn’t say there is any person in my life or on tv that makes my heart go pitter-patter, no. 

If yes, might that someone be reading this?: 

¯_(ツ)_/¯

Do you kiss on the first date?: I had – to think hard about this one cause wow I haven’t been part of the dating scene since 2010? I think I’ve done so but heck I honestly do not remember. I do know I don’t care? Either way – if I like someone / they like me I don’t get the stigma about if we should or should not kiss. You an adult? You consenting? Then kiss. It’s not rocket science.

Do you prefer going out, or staying home, when it comes to dates?: I hate leaving my house so. 

Things:

Favorite drink: Chai tea – chlorophyll water – tea in general

Favorite food: Tacos – Pulled pork poutine. 

Most calming place?: Anywhere I can curl up and not be interrupted by humans while I dick around on my computer. 

Most stressful place?: Anywhere that has more than (1) human I do not know intimately well. Any place with more than (4) people I know intimately well. 

Most prized possession?: Cats. Also, laptop. 

Tag five people (if you want to):

✗ @tidefated

✗ @the-empires

✗ @seafaired

✗ Anyone who wants to do the thing should steal it like the pirates they are.

Point Of Mercy

@intolerablexsacrifice continued from [x]

“Oh yes – pardon me,” Hal huffed, crossing his arms as he gave the man a look. “Strange time for mercy to strike you, seeing as he’s gone and lost all use what the hell’s the point of not making a full corpse of him?” Guthrie was a wanted man now – that made him more a liability than anything else. Not to mention he was of no value – so what benefit was there to keeping him around and running a risk?

His lips twitched a little, before he shook his head and headed into the cabin, remarking in a tone unreadable enough it was hard to tell if he was serious or not. “I’ll hold you to that – and it better be a nice one, or I’ll really get cross.”

@intolerablexsacrifice look at this rare footage I found of Gates & Flint!

He is pleased Flint actually knows how to impress him but not so pleased he never utilizes the correct methods despite knowing them. Also, please appreciate the fact I managed to find an actual bear hugging a fucking ginger beardie boy.

“I honestly thought that things would be very different.” [ for gates! your pick B) ]

{ Profound Starters } 

“Of course you did,” There is no mockery in his tone – nor scorn, or even anger as he looks up at the man whom the saints themselves would point to when asked for a definition of marking the road to hell in good intentions. “That’s the problem with angry dreamers – they tend to build their own nightmares.” 

Raising his tankard in salute, he took a long drink before setting it back on the table and waving for Flint to sit down and join him. There is no fear, despite the way in which they had parted ( there were nights when his mind replayed it, nights when he wasn’t able to maneuver enough and catch the man’s throat with a forceful blow from his elbow, and the results were never all that pleasant ) and although it had been almost a year now, Hal seemed content to act as though nothing had changed. 

And in essence, nothing had. Flint was still chasing an impossible dream because there was too much pain in him to swallow and war was easier to face than grief. Guthrie had still been latched on to the strongest man in town like a fucking barnacle, convinced that manipulating stronger and more connected people meant she was the one with all the power. Fat lot of good it did her when the Spanish came calling again.

Max and Jack were still, arguably, the smartest and most business savvy people on the entire fucking island, and Anne was still by far the scariest – which Hal could only assume was the reason none of them were present at this particular gathering of force. Everything else was in some state of for Flint or against Flint which was pretty much par for the course if not for the scale of it all now.

And that, right there, was the only real difference – how many people were dead along the way and how many people rallied now that piracy itself had martyrs by the names Vane and Blackbeard. No. Nothing had changed in Nassau beyond the fucking body count and who was taking tally of the corpses this time – but the world. The world was shifting, and somehow, against all fucking odds, Flint was standing at the dead center of the storm.

“Interesting choice in quartermaster,” He observed flatly, wondering how in the hell the thief even worked into that position with all that was stacked against him. And if Flint had somehow not picked up on the fact he was unimpressed by the choice, his next words might prove a fucking clue.

“My ship leaves the harbor in an hour. We’re not lingering more than that,” After Silver’s little showdown with Julius, Hal honestly didn’t see anything here that would prove profitable for him or his men. “We’ll take those who have no desire to fight this war with you, but I’m not saying anything for or against this venture.” The not yet, anyway, hung heavily in the air. If Flint wanted Hal to pick up a stake in this fight – this was his one, and only opportunity to do it.   

“You have ruined our lives. You’ve ruined /their/ lives.” [ for s4-ish(?) silver because OF COURSE IT IS ]

{ Hamilton Starters }

“Take that self righteous shit and sell it somewhere else – you and I both know this has nothing to do with their lives. My life holds no meaning to you – and they are nothing more than a means to your ends. The only thing you give a fuck about is your own agenda and the only reason you’re pissed off is because you can’t stand the idea that this – all of this, everything you have done, every monstrous act, every unforgivable deed, every man you trusted and killed – amounts to absolutely nothing if you don’t have a martyr to fight for.” 

Shifting his grip on his crutch, it took everything in his power not to carry on – he could feel his fury building to the point that English was slipping from him. Spanish was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, a far superior language to lash a man to a crippling degree with, but he had come too far in this game to let even an insult pass in his mother tongue in a heated moment like this one. Swearing in a second language at a time like this said one thing only – that it was the first – and even that was too much information to impart on this man.

Eventually, he found some measure of calm and continued in a clearer, more clipped tone. He was no longer striking, but he was not relenting, either. “If you want to claim that their lives matter, now is the time to prove it. Drop this fight that cannot be won, and disappear. Live – and by whatever you still hold holy, let them do the same.” 

“There is suffering too terrible to name.” [ for abigail, while they’re sailing to charlestown :’) ]

{ Hamilton Starters }

His words stir something, almost like a memory. There is no name for it, none that she can conjure. Being on this ship has caused her to see many things in different ways, to take chances she never would have dared to consider before. There was something – liberating – about being able to speak one’s mind, to ask questions that were perhaps too bold for polite company, and know that it would not be seen in a scandalous light. 

Lines could still be crossed – there were always lines that could be crossed – but here, on this ship, Abigail could test the true limits of curiosity without fearing the loss of something intangible like a reputation or a good name. It wasn’t proper, perhaps – but what was proper among pirates?

“Is that why you became a pirate?” While her nerve remained strong enough, Abigail pushed on, “To escape suffering – or to cause it in turn?” She did not ask this to be cruel – rather, she wanted to understand more about the man Mrs Hamilton – or rather, Miss Barlow – had turned to in her hour of need. The man who had hunted down the Hamiltons – the man whose name was synonymous with so many terrible things, who in turn was both so terribly sad and kind despite his reputation.  

“I’m proud of you.” || FROM JAMES TO JACK

{ Black Sails Starters }

An unwelcome shudder worked its way down his spine, chilling him to the core almost instantly. It was a twitch, really – nothing more than a bit of old reflex as he cast a glance behind him before looking down, ascertaining both that nobody was behind him receiving this address – and that there was nothing sneaking up from below while he was distracted by it. 

image

Over before it could be noticed, Jack smiled, broad and bright enough that a glint of sun could be caught on his brass tooth – a sign, clear as the skies, that he was putting on airs. He was so open with James that he almost didn’t notice how quickly the old ways could rise – but there were some things ( little things! ) – that were just too dangerous to be trusted. 

“Now Jem,”  He breathed, moving closer as he employed the name he’d granted to his deadliest game to date, “If I’ve done something to offend you – you could just say so,” It did not occur to Jack that the words were genuine. He believed many things – when it came to the value they found in one another, wild and mad though it was – Jack believed sweet whispers and angry snarls alike. 

He never forgot where his Jem came from – never forgot the line they walked together was tenuous, or that every time his heart had tried to beat in time with someone else it had found itself dashed upon the rocks again and again.He truly hated the moments when Jem managed to tear him open, when the damned man would increase the height of his own importance by leaving yet another trace of himself behind when he closed the wounds he opened with the same rough hands that had torn them open to begin with. Yet in the end, he loved those moments – loved the aftermath, as they found themselves woven closer still by the thread of their fates.

This did not feel like one of those moments.

Habit shrouded him, protected him from the fear that welled up inside him that this was it – that this was the moment when their ships would part ways, and Jem would extract every piece of light he’d implanted with one devastating goodbye. People were only proud of Jack Sparrow when they found the means to betray him, and in the hands of the one man who could perhaps truly destroy him, they were easily the most terrifying his love could conjure.

 “Let’s talk this through, aye?” From teasing charm to pleading in a beat, Jack brought his hands placatingly to his lover’s hips, drawing him in as if to seduce the trouble away, “What have I done that’s so terrible it can’t be righted?”