FOR THE Q&A VIDEO what's your ideal home like (like decor-wise)??? I would love a frerard ficlet with pirate!frank and escaping convict!gerard (and as much fluff as you can muster ily)
Thank you Esvy ily!!
send me a question for my 4k q&a video for a blog rate, selfie reblog, post reblog, playlist, or ficlet*
*please send a pairing and prompt for a ficlet
Frank was the first member of his crew to wake up on an October morning, and for good reason, too. There was a clattering coming from the kitchen, right by where Frank had been sleeping. He crept towards the door, withdrawing his sword and raising it slowly.
He kicked the door open, sword high over his head. Seeing no immediate danger, he scanned the room, his eyes finally meeting a man rooting through their rations.
“Hey!” Frank shouted.
The man jumped in surprise, facing him. He was thin, rail thin, in fact; his cheekbones jutting and skin pale. He had soot and grime smeared across his face and in his greasy hair, which hung in matted tangles to his shoulders. His beard was snarled and unclipped, his clothing torn and stained. He clasped his filthy hands together, pleading, “Please, do not make a fuss, sir.”
Frank jostled his sword handle, tightening his grip. “Why shouldn’t I? You come onto my ship, in the middle of the ocean. How exactly was that managed?”
“I climbed aboard in Mendoza. I’ve been in hiding there for two years, and when the chance to leave was granted by your crew’s raid, I had no choice. I had to leave. I snuck on and have been sneaking around for the past fortnight.”
“And you’ve been eating?” Frank asks.
The man hesitated, adding, “Well, yes, it was either that or you find my corpse, sir.”
“A stranger invading our ship and eating our food,” Frank declared. He raised his sword, bringing the stranger to his knees in fright. Frank took pity on the cowering man, instead plunging the sword into a nearby table. He offered the man his hand, helping him to his feet. “I may be a thief and a criminal, but I am not lacking of empathy.” Frank grabbed the man’s shoulder, greeting, “Welcome aboard. We’ll clean you up good and proper.”
Once some other pirates had awaken, Frank enlisted in them in the gruesome task of cleaning up the stranger. They draped a table cloth around him, setting him down in the washroom. Frank set his hands on the man’s shoulders, gazing at their reflections in the mirror. “I’ve never asked, what might your name be?”
“Gerard,” the man replied. “And yours is?”
“Captain,” Frank replied. With that, he started hacking away hunks of the man’s hair with his machete, ridding him of the clumped mats that had formed in sweat and grime. Next came his wiry beard, which could not be spared and, as a result, was shaved off totally.
They gave Gerard a set of new clothes, and it was Frank’s job to watch him change, assuring that he bore no concealed weapons.
Frank watched Gerard strip to his drawers, these ratty, faded underpants that were at least a size too large. Stepping into his new trousers and shrugging into his button up, he gazed over at Frank expectantly, who simply grinned, commenting, “You’re still rather skinny, but we’ll fatten you up. We’re only twelve miles east of Nigeria, so we’ll be eating good soon.” Frank tipped his hat, adding, “I’m afraid for the next few nights, we’ll have to get by on scraps.”
Gerard shrugged, responding, “I really do appreciate this so much, Captain. A new start. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Don’t,” Frank replied, sighing. “Really, never thank a man who’s lived at the expense of others since boyhood.”
“What did you imagine I was arrested for, libel?” Gerard joked. “My mother died when I was fourteen, my sole provider. I was left to live in the streets, and I lived well too, that was, until two years later when I was caught stealing food from a local shop. Two years running, and now, here I am.”
“You were… fourteen? That makes you… eh…”
“Eighteen, sir,” Gerard responded.
Frank nodded wearily, confiding, “I’m not much older than you, son. Don’t let my crew find out, of course.”
“Of course, sir,” Gerard answered.
“You don’t have to call me sir,” Frank muttered, rooting through their beer supply. He offered one to Gerard, who declined, before taking a large swig. “I’m just a troubled man with leadership qualities.”
Gerard had nodded slowly, telling, “You know, you’re my role model.”
“You hardly know me,” Frank scoffed.
“I know you better than you’d suspect,” Gerard retorted. “Remember, I hid on this ship, and during that time, I was watching you. All of you. And it was almost immediately that I knew you were the sort of man I’d like to turn into.”
“You think I’m a real man, huh?” Frank asked, unable to hide his smile.
Gerard grinned back, answering, “Of course.”
“We’ll make a man out of you, my boy,” Frank assured. “And that’ll start over the next raids.”
Frank stood, patting Gerard’s shoulder as he started for the door.
“Um, captain?”
Frank turned to face Gerard, who restated, “I really would like to thank you for everything. I appreciate it.”
Frank smiled once more. “I know."














