#ofmd headcanons

[sirensoftherocks]

Any time I’m think of ways to gender bend Izzy to headcanon him as a lesbian, and try think of names to use as a female diminutive (like Israela or Izika), I ask myself what’s the point because the crew would just call her Izzy anyway.

[permanenttwine]

[shiplessoceans]

...Stede Bonnet would not understand the impulse to hide a hickey.

He would specifically wear a vibrantly coloured scarf just below it to draw attention to it. Hoping someone will ask him about it.

Because it's Ed's. Because it's a mark of love. Proof that he, Stede Bonnet, is desired and he could never be ashamed of it. He would in fact intentionally bring it up to the people that he is supposed to be stealing from.

"Ah! You are probably wondering about this mark here. I know, you might be thinking it's a battle wound but no! No it's actually a mark of passion, bestowed on me by my beloved."

And the crew would groan and Olu would tell Stede to "Give it a rest, it's bad enough having to hear you two going at it non-stop."

Meanwhile Ed is grabbing loot and pretending not to overhear. The entire time cursing that he doesn't have the beard anymore because now he can't hide that he's grinning from ear to ear.

[itswhatyougive]

So I've got this kinda wild headcanon that the captain and crew of the captured French ship in 2x05 recognized Frenchie from somewhere, perhaps his time in service.

If you take a close look, all their eyes go to him. The captain especially looks like he has a moment of recognition before quickly averting his eyes. It's a "blink and you'll miss it" moment.

Since we know so little of Frenchie's backstory, it's fun to theorize!

(Of course, it could also just be the crew recognizing he looks really hot when he's tying people up 👀)

[animoogus]

Buttons was raised by birds and that's my truth until proven otherwise

[cowboyink]

Modern OFMD Headcanons: Jobs/Hobbies

Stede - Obviously runs a hotel with his boyfriend Ed. Does a lot of work at the front desk.

Volunteers at the library and reads to kids (may have been told off once or twice for being too loud and working the kids up too much.)

Ed - Obviously runs a hotel with his boyfriend Stede. I feel like he does a bit of everything around the hotel, like he's never in one place, one minute he's helping out the catering staff, the next he's in his office doing paperwork and then off having a chat with random guests. He just wants the hotel to be successful.

Not really a hobby, but loves taking Stede to the aquarium for little dates when they have the time.

Frenchie - Lives in a van, and plays small gigs at random bars/clubs when he can. Busks in the daytime.

I feel like his van isn't neat, but also, not messy, like it's organized in his own messy way.

Jim - For some reason, I feel like Jim, Archie and Oulwande go along with Frenchie on his gigs, maybe to help set up and all that, and also just to cheer him on. (Frenchie groupies, lmao, jk.)

Also does special effects make-up, loves to practice on Archie

Archie: Just wants to be near Jim, but she also loves the nightlife, bars, clubs, anything and she's there, as long is Jim with her, of course.

Zheng - Runs a soup kitchen in her spare time with Auntie. Loves to go along with Oulwande to Frenchie's gigs.

Oulwande - Volunteers at said soup kitchen as much as possible, when he's not with Jim and Archie.

Lucius - Is an artist, basically lives at the local art studio. Loves to just sit at the park and sketch.

Black Pete - Works as a welder or locksmith. Always bringing home small gifts for Lucius when he finishes work.

Wee John - Is a tattoo artist by day and a drag queen at night. Maybe he does a little bar-tending here and there.

Izzy - I get fitness vibes, idk, possibly owns a gym, does a little personal trainer work, but had to slow down a bit after losing his leg. One time while getting tattooed by Wee John heard about his drag shows and went and saw one just out of curiosity and fell in love with drag right then and there.

Spanish Jackie - Runs a nightclub with her bartender husband, The Swede.

Buttons - Is a fisherman with a small boat of his own. Keeps pigeons, and has named all of them. Would live in the enclosure with them if he could. Also likes to befriend stray pigeons

Roach - Is a line cook at a small diner, and sometimes sleeps in the diner when he doesn't pay rent at his apartment (I feel like he forgets sometimes.)

[crazy-meringue]

I really want to believe that after the night with Ed, Stede had the same sly and happy face as Rhys in this screenshot

[bowieandqueen11]

Dating Frenchie Would Include...

Request: Hi, May I please request some headcanons of what dating Frenchie (Our Flag Means Death) would include, please? Thank you so much!! 🖤

Of course my darling, here you go!!

Warning: a little strong language! Also I wrote this at 3 a.m. so it may be unintelligible 🏳️‍🌈

(I do not own OFMD or any of its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @crucifiix.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Lmao love a bit of fanfiction about Frenchie big fan

You are 100% the only other crew member, or the only other anybody in fact, that Frenchie allows into his room. Far too many times have you been caught sitting side saddled over Frenchie’s lap by Wee John Feeney, stroking the bottom of his beard and giggling as the two of you bump foreheads and continue talking shit about the newly crowned ‘Dizzy Izzy’ (during a rough patch in the storm that had raged earlier that night, he had accidentally tumbled after a large pitch into Lucius’ lap, and by golly was he not letting anyone forget about it.) Wee John just sighs, walking straight back out and letting the door slam shut; the last thing you can hear as you try to stifle your laugh against the side of Frenchie’s neck is him calling you ‘the weirdest eejits’ he’s ever met. Neither of you are really paying attention though: your lips managed to accidentally rub against the tip of Frenchie’s collar bone, one of his more ticklish points, and the man was too busy apologising and trying to give you a hand up after accidentally flinging you to the floor.

After a lot of coaxing, a lot of fake pouting, and a lot of pecking forehead kisses to try and convince him round to the idea, he does eventually get used to the idea of you sleeping over as well! I feel like Frenchie is definitely a ‘leg over you like a mossy log that’s been stuck in a marshy bog for hundreds of years and hasn’t moved an inch in that entire time’ kind of sleeper. Like, the man is so tall that on your single shared bed you’re lying properly on it as the bottom layer, and then Frenchie is playing a game of Tetris with his limbs over you during the night. Usually it ends up with his head dipped down and tucked up all neat and cosy against the side of your cheek, his snores resonating loudly enough through the walls of the ship that they could have invented the foghorn right there and then, and his left leg splayed completely over your midriff.

If you get too uncomfortable and give him a shove he will eventually roll over and curl up like an armadillo so you can spoon him though. That is, if one of you hasn’t managed to shove the other out of the bed first - it’s a common occurrence for Wee John to wake Frenchie up from where he’s half lying under the bed, but even though he’s got aching shoulders from spending half the night rolling about the wood he’s still all smiles and doe eyes at you when he sees you’re awake too. Like a Jack in the box, he pops up over the side of the bed with a smile bright enough to make even the crystal dawn of the sea pale by comparison, and presses a kiss against the tip of your nose before skipping off. He’s so sweet your honour I actually cannot with this man.

Sometimes he likes to talk before the two of you fall asleep. Before he’s splayed out like a starfish, the two of you lie in the cot side by side and just fiddle with each other’s fingers on the pillow. Noses close enough to rub against each other if you dared to move a hare and legs pulled up in a half-sit so they can rest familiarly against each other, Frenchie relishes and relaxes in the knowledge that there’s someone on this ship that will know his story. That there’s someone left in the world that’s even willing to hear it, to care about him, and not just what he can do for them. There’s a poignant wistfulness to the air, to his words, so much so that from time to time he can’t even meet your eye. He still always flashes you that shy, optimistic smile from time to time, but you can see the past in the wrinkles of his face every time he uncomfortably starts to recoil when you press your palm to his cheek.

Not going to lie, he may not be a visual artist to rival the mastery of Lucius, but you can bet your sandy ass that Frenchie has pinned up the walls some doodles he’s drawn of you in his spare time, with parchment that he tore out and ‘borrowed’ from Stede’s diary. When Stede collected the crew on the deck a few days later and had a ‘team meeting’ about why stealing was wrong, Frenchie gave a very convincing shrug and ‘it wasn’t me’ frown when Stede asked who had taken the paper. I mean, he was always bound to find out, and when he did stumble into Frenchie and Wee John’s room the next afternoon to borrow his lute (he was planning to write a song for Blackbeard to convince him he was more of a catch than Calico Jack don’t even ask), he only smiled fondly and shut the door when he spotted what his diary had been used for. (And secretly hoped that Ed wouldn’t find his own doodles of him in said diary lmao.)

Oooh, can you imagine how lovely it would be to stumble through Stede’s secret tunnel and to go sit out by unicorn figurehead with Frenchie?? Just the two of you, feet swinging together through the planks, the swirling pockets of silver dancing over the warm tides and the comforting buzz of Frenchie’s voice as he sings for you. With your head resting on his shoulder, you’re too busy falling into a blissful oblivion to even notice that Frenchie’s stopped picking at the strings of his lute, and has instead set it down at his side. He’s found that a much better use of his time would be staring at you, so obviously, so fondly, so sweetly: as if dewdrops hung from his lips, ready for the northern dawn that only your splendour could bring.

Getting to tie that cute little cravat around his neck before the five of you jump ship to go to that fancy dinner party. Every time you try to loop the end of it back through he chases your fingers (to try and kiss them or bite them, you’re not entirely sure), but it does make the two of you burst out into another fit of giggles.

Although he has quite a sweet disposition, Frenchie is 100% ready to throw hands for you. The whole time he’s trying to crank up Oluwande’s ‘pyramid scheme’, he has one eye on the valuables being handed over and one trained solely on you. If any of the esteemed and highly respectable guests become a little too eager, coltish, agitated, Frenchie is straight on it. Before you can even knock their wig off, he’s grabbed your wrist and pulled you either behind his back or dragged you out to the hull with the sternest expression you’ve ever seen on his face. Either way, he’ll always put himself in the firing line of harm’s way first, if it means protecting you.

The two of you spend about 70% of your time singing together on deck. Frenchie’s jamming along with his lute, and you’re animatedly singing and dancing around him, often roping in Lucius to come do full body jigs or a ridiculing minuet Frenchie’s intensifying sea shanties. Since the three of you were supposed to be finishing Izzy’s order to mop the deck, he’s sitting cross legged on the helm behind your spinning bodies, with enough steam coming out of his crimson ears to drown the sky in thunderclouds.

During crew meetings he’ll just straight up wander in late and just... come up behind you and plop his chin down on top of your head. He won’t listen to a word of what’s going on either: too busy chatting with you, or with Jim, or fiddling with the rings on your fingers, or just trying to figure out if the stain on the ceiling looks more like an orange or a fish. To be honest he didn’t even realise it was a meeting until Stede asked him if he was paying attention - he just saw you and immediately came to seek out your heat (and also your hugs).

His love language is doing and making things with his hands, so instead of doing actual work to help out on the Revenge, he tries to craft for you. He sits by the mast, cross legged, and with his tongue sticking from the corner of his mouth in the uttermost form of concentration. He’s trying to remember how his ma taught him to thread a needle, so desperate to fix up your shirt properly after Spanish Jackie nearly tore the sleeve to shreds during your first meeting at the Republic of Pirates. Of course, you’ll eventually have to free him from where he’s managed to sew his shirt to his jacket (very well, might I add). He smiles all the while, leaning down to gently kiss your knuckles every time they bump up high enough with a new thread of the string to be within his reaching distance.

He likes to steal Wee John’s old hammock - he’s a big fan of having snuggled up naps on deck while Ed and Stede have stopped off at some new island and are busy off smooching on their foliage walks. 

Or, he likes to venture out sometimes too and see someplace new with the love of his life! Usually it’s just some slightly different variation of a beach, but this just allows him ample opportunity to perform his favourite activity: scooping up wet sand and hurling at you in a mock sand-ball fight. The two of you fly across the streaking honey-gold boughs of the winding branches of the strip, Frenchie rolling his trousers up and finally catching up to you between the torn crags and cliff edges. He jumps, flying full sail through the air until he’s knocked both of you to the ground. He tries to be all romantic and pretend he hasn’t just knocked the ever loving wind out of you. He leans over you, crawling his knees up between your thighs and slowly dipping down to kiss you, before getting bashed up the face by a huge tide and falling ass over teakettle backwards in sweet revenge lmao.