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a-dauntless-daffodil · 1 year ago

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clankie otp prompts that ran on a bit oops

1.) Who spends almost all their money on the other?

Cleo.

Which is impressive, considering her family is honest to Ra entombed in gold, but she manages. Buying things is how she grew up seeing affection done-

(RE: her parents getting her new sparklies every birthday and Nefera coming back from Scaris with MORE jewelry for her)

-so shopping sprees are the default when she first tries showering Frankie with love.

She’s more thoughtful about it than just random shinies though (she knows what it’s like to have something on your wish list for centuries and Never Get It) so it’s a lot of lab tools, weird things Frankie hasn’t seen before, and things like always getting them their fav snacks and drinks at the Coffinbean.

Frankie likes a lot of the stuff Cleo gets them, but also just bluntly says spending time with Cleo is the best

(this after Cleo spent a whole NIGHT trying to track down this one thing she KNEW Frankie would love, while Frankie sprawled on the floor all droopy and limp and pining for her).

This clicks something on in Cleo’s brain and she realizes she ALSO loves being with the monsters she cares for.

So after spending time recharging Frankie by looking at (but NOT buying) weird things on amazombie together, she drops in on Nefera, just to sit around and bug her while her older sis is doing schoolwork.

Nefera can’t believe it’s happening at first. Then she FLINGS her homework across the room so the sisters can have a good gossip session together for the first time in centuries.

2.) Who sleeps in the other’s lap?

Frankie likes falling asleep with Cleo in their lap. They just kinda drape themselves around her whenever their charge gets low, and Cleo makes sure they're securely snuggled before she settles in with her icoffin.

Frankie’s a deep sleeper, so Cleo can be as loud and giggly as she wants, BUT she keeps hush instead and shushes / death glares anyone who makes a ruckus around her monster while they sleep.

She also likes playing with Frankie’s hair without realizing it, or reach back to cuddle their cheek, just checking on them.

More intentionally, Frankie sometimes naps with their eyes open if they’re really tired (its a stasis thing). It freaks out everyone else except Cleo, who can spend a looooong time just sappily staring into their mismatched eyes.

3.) Who walks around half naked and who yells at them to put some clothes on?

Swap clothes for limbs and you have Frankie Stein, wandering around without an arm or leg or eyeball because they had a thought half way thought swapping out body parts and tots forgot what they were doing.

Cleo’s reaction is less of a yell and more of a concerned yelp when she finds Frankie’s arms stuffed between sofa cushions and runs over to find Frankie trying to fry a skillet of scary side up eggs with just their teeth.

4.) Which one tells the other not to stay up all night and which one does it anyway?

I think this is Cleo when she gets in party planning or scheming to take over the throne mode.

Frankie’s like, okay, but even queens need sleep right? So you’ll go to bed at some point, right? Uh-huh, Cleo says over her shoulder, absolutely getting no sleep.

Frankie enables this a little because watching Cleo get nerdy and passionate about stuff makes them all fizzy-happy inside, but they DO want Cleo to get some sleep eventually.

So Frankie learns the best way to break Cleo out of this is to just stay with her and fall asleep themselves under a snack food table or something, because Cleo WILL check on them to make sure they’re comfy, and Cleo WILL NOT be able to resist cuddling up with them. Just for a bit. A few minutes that’s all she swears.

5.) Which one tries to make food for the other but burns it all by accident and which one tells them that it’s okay and makes them both cookies.

Cleo loves all the homemade stuff Frankie gives them, so as part of her exploring other ways of showing affection that Don’t involve gold and gems, she tries making paincakes.

Pain def happens. The cakes? Not so much. Not even Cleo’s beetle babies can salvage a batter bowl once Cleo gets her hands on it.

Frankie finds the mess really impressive (once they’ve hosed things down with their fire extinguisher attachment, specially built after Cleo started taking an interest in cooking) and, as a monster who eats other monster’s popcorn off of theater floors, the taste of char is kinda yummy to them actually.

Them and Cleo make cookies together afterwards mostly just for the fun of it (and so Cleo can have something to snack on too).

6.) Which one reads OTP prompts and says “Oh that’s us!” and which one goes “Eh, not really”?

Frankie’s very literal. Unless the prompt is something they and Cleo have SPECIFICALLY done, they are just a flat Nope We Haven’t, sometimes then followed with a thoughtful and worrying Yet.

Cleo, meanwhile, is so enamored with Frankie as her gallant protector she REFUSES to accept she’s actually an angry Smol protecting her Tol. She’s not yelling at people for upsetting Frankie- It’s just called saying THE TRUTH, which is that the person should be ashamed and if they are not then she will Curse Them.

7.) Which one constantly wears the other’s clothes?

We all know Frankie is never getting that varsity jacket back once Cleo gets her hands on it.

Though it’s more like, Frankie drapes it over her shoulders once because Cleo felt a chill (she was hoping for a hug or a snuggle) and saw how cool Cleo looked in it, and how much she liked wearing it, and it made Frankie shoot off sparks for the rest of the day.

So. Even though it does NOT go with Cleo’s carefully selected and matched royal regalia outfit (even more classy than Nefera's)… yeah. She starts wearing the jacket A Lot. And, snuggling with it.

Friends try teasing her about it but she’s immune because she is WEARING FRANKIE’S JACKET HELLO???

8.) Which one spends the day running errands and which one says “You remembered [thing], right?”

Frankie loves running errands. Frankie almost NEVER comes back with what they set out to actually get on said errands.

Cleo checks in with them via text, or just tags along, because she always makes lists and loves checking them twice. And this way maybe Frankie makes it back with the copper tubing they wanted instead of a giant scorpion plushy.

9.) Which one drives the car and which one gives them directions?

As per @bluebelleisabelle‘s idea, Frankie behind the wheel of a car isn’t a good idea do to potential brain bit memories distracting them at bad moments, so Cleo works hard to get a license (the first one in her ENTIRE family) just to drive them around (Drac helped her learn and it was an Experience).

Frankie is in charge of the map and does a good imitation of a car GPS (global positioning scream).

Sometimes their brain bits remind them of a shortcut- sometimes the shortcut is still there, and sometimes they’re remembering a donkey track that got built over a hundred years ago. No matter how many times it turns out to be the latter, Cleo's never stops trusting them or making sudden U-turns on command.

Its always an adventure to get in the car with Cleo and Frankie! Which is why most of their other friends Don’t.

10.) Which one does the posing while the other one draws?

Cleo would LOVE posing, Frankie would LOVE to see her do it, but it’s probably more of a scrap metal sculpture done with loud as heck hacksaws and torches than soft romantic drawing thing.

At least plenty of sparks would fly, though.

And Cleo would probably install the sculpture in pride of place in her section of the family tomb, much to the confusion of later visitors.

11.) If they were about to rob a museum, which one does backflips through lasers and which one is strolling behind with a bag of chips?

Okay so Cleo legit in the first episode lowered herself from the ceiling like a character from a heist film- AND she likes planning stuff.

Less backflips, more cunning doges and precision crawling under the camera’s blind spots. It’s awkward, not elegant, but she’s got this, she knows what to do and how to do it. She’s, almost there-

Frankie, thanks to their ballet brain bit, is pirouetting freely around security in the background. Until they spot someone’s gum on the floor. And reach for it. And reach right into a laser trip wire and- oh zaps- RA HAVE MERCY- sorry cleo! do wanna split the gum with me-? FRANKIE QUICK OVERLOAD THE SYSTEM- oh uh right um-

*distant explosion sound effect*

Clawdeen and Drac don’t even look up they just sigh as Clawdeen grabs a spare pair of ski masks and Draculaura fetches the keys to her dad’s fastest stunt car.

12.) Which one of your OTP overdoes it on the alcohol and which one makes the other stop drinking?

Listen. I’m not saying Frankie sees a human car for the first time (Cladween’s dad’s car??? powered by LIQUIFIED DEAD THINGS???) and instantly tries a sip of something they shouldn’t have, and then likes it so much they keep trying to go back for more-

But I AM saying that Cleo would NOT want her precious monster getting poisoned, and would skip out on learning more about the human world to keep dragging Frankie away from the car- one body part at a time if necessary- and then hold their hair back when they get sick in the storm drain an hour later.

It’s just what ghoulfriends are for, sometimes.

13.) Which one likes to surprise the other with a lot of small random gifts?

Cleo cannot open her locker without there being some little origami note or flower or baked treat inside from Frankie.

No matter how tired or dispirited she is after a long day of still not getting any new followers or popularity after organizing the last school function, the little surprises from her monster always make her smile.

Maybe not too many others in school think about Cleo De Nile on a daily basis. But Frankie does. Always.

14.) Which one keeps accidentally using the other’s last name instead of their own?

Clawdeen joked once “Frankie, when it comes to your feelings for Cleo? Frankly, you’re in DE NILE!” once and “Frankie De Nile” has been rattling around Frankie’s brain every since.

It pops out sometimes. Cleo thinks it’s so cute.

They both died a little inside tho when Frankie met her parents and introduced themself and… well….

Frankie brought out the brain getter out two-thousand again after THAT little memory got created (Cleo had to call in Clawdeen and Draculaura as reinforcements to get the plunger away from them)

15.) Which one screams about the spider and which one brings the spider outside?

Beetles? Cleo loves beetle babies

Any other bug? Cleo is screaming. Cleo is running. Cleo is climbing Frankie like a ghoul’s damn tree and shrieking for them to KILL IT KILL IT AAAAHH!!!

Frankie picks the spider up in their bare hands and takes it outside

(only after looking at it very closely for FAR TOO LONG in Cleo’s opinion. No Cleo will not climb down form off of Frankie if being near the spider creeps her out this much. Clinging to Frankie’s back is the safest place she knows and more importantly it's HERS and NO she is NOT giving it up to a SPIDER)

16.) Which one gives the other their jacket?

So I said Frankie earlier, but now I’m thinking- there’s no way Cleo doesn’t have a fancy, snazzy royal jacket stuffed in a closet somewhere, maybe kept for formal occasions.

And Frankie? Wearing her colors?? Is it even possible Cleo could RESIST that idea?

I think not.

Absolutely they go on dates wearing each other’s jackets.

Cleo takes a million selfies of them, and gets increasingly frantic comments from Nefera wondering why someone else is wearing the family regalia Cleo, Cleo mummy and baba follow your social media if they see this they are going to Get Ideas and Start Planning and, Cleo, stop giggling with Frankie for a sec you do NOT want mummy and baba Planning Things- Cleo? CLEO! BY HATHOR PLEASE CHECK YOUR MESSAGES. I CAN ONLY SPAM CUTE BABY SCORPIAN PICS AS A SHIELD FOR SO LONG!!!! D:

17.) Who keeps getting threatened by the other’s overprotective older sibling?

Nefera would never, and Frankie’s too much of a sweetie, so Cleo doesn’t worry about that too much.

Until Clawdeen and Draculaura drag her into the lab one day start explaining Exactly how long hypothetic mummy would last if she hypothetically made a werewolf and vampire upset by hypothetically breaking their franken friend’s heart. Hypothetically.

Cleo listens in shock and then rates them an ehhhhh 7/10. Could have been more detailed. Not quite as much passion in the threats as Cleo would have hoped for. Maybe try again somtime?

Next time, they bring Lagoona.

(Meanwhile Nefera and Frankie have a lovely chat at the coffinbean over gutshakes and Nefera cheerfully tells them she can completely disembowel and dismember a body in less a minute but Frankie won’t make Cleo unhappy and will never have to worry about that~)

(Frankie thinks about this all day, finally confessing to Cleo she’d really like to be autopsied by Nefera, but NEVER if the only way is by upsetting Cleo.)

(Cleo assures them anyone would be lucky to autopsy them and then has a little Chat with her big sis)

(From Nefera’s ensuing terrified screams, everyone else realizes they REALLY need to step up their game)

18.) Who’s the first one to admit they have feelings for the other?

Oh Frankie’s been feeling them longer, and they’re the kind of monster to examine each new feeling with great interest as an when they first appear, so they’d def KNOW about their feels first. And they seemed pretty, hrm, direct and unabashed about it in Horoscare. That held eye contact and little head tilt at the end… oh they WANTED Cleo to notice their little spark, notice them noticing it, and check her reaction to all that…

But. They also get anxious and shy easily when it comes to interpersonal stuff. Unsure.

I can see them being chill about the feels until they start gathering more data about it, then starting to freak out a little. Because where there’s parameters and social norms, there’s things they can get wrong, wrong with CLEO and-

They REALLY don’t like risking pushing any of their friends away with their feels (re: crushed and what’s up watzie) even if it makes them sad.

So, smooth as they’ve been, I can see them choking up when I comes to actually out loud admitting it.

Who actually SAYS it first?

Cleo.

Probably bc Frankie was doing everything EXCEPT saying “Hey! I have a crush on you!! wanna date?” and getting all frazzled about it, and miss high level emotional regulation Cleo looks at her poor precious rambling monster and goes

“Frankie Stein? Would you, ah-hem, like to go out sometime? You know. As like, friends but also… more?”

Frankie’s ecstatic “ohmyzaps YES!!!” causes a school-wide power outage.

their first date is technically in detention

(they giggle so much headmistress Bloodgood lets them leave early just to her head from falling off with the force of her eyerolls)

19.) How good would your OTP be at parenting?

I have head canon-ed them a scarab swarm child and they would be very worn out and overwhelmed but also great at it.

Cleo is all “who’s a little bug baby? who is it?? You! Yes!! You are!!!!” while Frankie’s reading a giant monster’s guide to parenting monstrosities like

“okay so routines are good and consistency is good and explaining stuff is good and beware of the flesh-threshing threes, and- Reading about all this is kinda boring, actually. I don’t know what the flesh-threshing threes are, but I wanna make those traumatic memories together, as a family! Now who wants to start a pre bedtime eyescream ritual?”

The bug baby grows up with a great relationship with them bc both mummy Cleo and themmy Frankie are very open about emotions and admitting when they’re wrong and figuring out your own identity, and also lots and lots of hugs.

(the one problem is separation anxiety- cleo has it worst, but fankie gets it too and the bug baby tries to hide it later when she gets old enough to go to school and stuff but, yeah, all three of them really really suffer and facetime / text CONSTANTLY just to ease the agonies)

Also if you touch that child, you are DEAD. Frankie will vaporize you. Cleo will curse your remains so that they never rise again.

20.) Which one types with perfect grammar and which one types using numbers as letters?

Canon Cleo legit SPEAKS in brb and such. She’s def typing “can’t w8 2 c u QT <3 <3” at Frankie and Frankie def spends so long trying to decode the message that Cleo ends up having to come looking for them in codes and foreign languages section of the library.

(Twyla tried to help but also had no idea and the two got so wrapped up learning about morse code they forgot to ask Manny the puzzle wiz)

21.) Who gets attacked by a bully and who protects them?

Toralei finds her first grey hair on her tail the day she’s mean to Frankie in front of Cleo.

(canon Frankie also saved Cleo from Toralei, by actually carrying her away from the werecat’s attack, but they’re better at the whole whisking away from danger than they are picking up on and countering social stuff)

(Cleo makes sure anyone who thinks that’s an invitation to bully Frankie learns the flaw inherent to their logic. In the most traumatizing way possible, preferably.)

22.) Who makes the bad puns and who makes a pained smile every time the other makes a pun?

Cleo makes terrible puns IN CANON and Frankie laughs at them so fucking stupidly im sorry they know the pun is terrible but Cleo said it and they can’t help themselves.

The laughter only gets louder and longer and more delighted over time, which only encourages Cleo to come up with worse and worse ones, and all of their friends (except Clawdeen) are in PAIN.

Drac especially so.

23.) Who comes home from work to see that the other one bought a puppy?

So. Frankie did kinda in canon adopt the first puppy they saw and brought it home with them.

BUT! Cleo has no control or resistance to cute things in need of help (re frankie), and I can really see her hiding a new puppy behind her back like

“Oh hey Frankie! You’ll NEVER in a THOUSAND YEARS guess what I totally thought really long and hard about before bringing home with me!” and Frankie just tilts their heads and points “is it something to do with the happy wagging tail of a dog? Or did you just get that for yourself?” “IT IS IN FACT…… OUR NEW DOG!” “Oh wow! Good job hiding it Cleo, you’re right! I never would’ve guessed!”

Cleo is never able to hide it for more than a few seconds and Frankie is always impressed with her sneakiness (and the dog)

24.) Which one gives the other a piggyback ride when they’re tired?

Frankie to Cleo, full stop. Cleo wraps her arms around the tall monster’s shoulders with her organ bag in front of them, and Frankie lifts her like she’s nothing (remember the boulder? Yeah. Frankie lifts)

There’s at least one scary moment though when Frankie runs low on charge and Cleo’s so frightened of them wearing that little last bit out with walking that she INSISTS on carrying Frankie the rest of the way, no matter how awkward, hard, or silly it looks.

25.) Which one competes in some sort of activity and which one does the overzealous cheering?

Oh they both can get into it and both cheer like there’s no tomorrow (Cleo's getting good at catching Frankie's limbs when they go flying off at random, or having her beetle babies fetch them if she's not fast enough). The energy these two have together is Intense.

Ra help you if they ever complete against you as a team, or cheer for the person you’re competing against.

They may not win. But you WILL be terrified the entire time they're working against you.

26.) Who takes a selfie when the other one falls asleep on their shoulder?

Cleo is steadily heading towards a solid MILLION pics of her with Frankie napping on her shoulder. The ones where Frankie is making weird faces and snoring are her favs.

(Frankie doesn’t take pics- they know how sensitive Cleo is to embarrassing pics after her fearbook photos- but they have sleeping Cleo’s face etched into their brain and sometimes absentmindedly doodle a cross hatch sketch of her so lifelike people who glimpse it think it’s a pic with a filter on it at first. Then frankie erases it at light speed before any incriminating evidence of Adorable Sleeping Cleo can be gathered)

27.) Which one would give the other a makeover if they asked?

Frankie wonders aloud once what it’d feel like to be royal as themself (not their king of goreway brain bit) and before they’ve even finished their sentence, Cleo is dragging them off by the disembodied hand to go have a makeover date~

28.) Which one owns a pet that the other is absolutely terrified of?

It’s mainly the Judgement of Cleo’s pets that Frankie fears, but yeah, they’re absolutely terrified.

"Cleo...they're smirking at me..." "Oh Frankie they're just smiling at you!" "They hate me don't they." "HATE YOU?? Pffa! You're Frankie Stein, how could anyone hate YOU! You're too sweet for it~" "Aww, Cleo! I- ..... they just glared at me." "Frankie..."

29.) Which one holds the umbrella over both of them when it rains?

Frankie has an arm-brella prosthetic and brings it out on romantic dates in the thunderstorms.

Cleo always groans when they get back and she see’s Frankie’s other arm and shoulder are soaked AGAIN bc they wanted to make sure the umbrella covered Cleo completely, even if it meant getting a bit wet themselves. She punishes Frankie for this with a smooch, which really has the opposite effect <3

30.) If your OTP went on vacation, where would they go and what would they do? Who would take the pictures?

They would go. Everywhere.

But the highlight for Frankie would be Japan, to finally try some homemade wormen just like Kuma always raves about, and Cleo’s family home in Egypt, bc Cleo really loves it and loves showing it off and Frankie loves when she gets all excited about stuff.

For Cleo, visiting various places in Europe and listening as Frankie’s brain bits spark up this or that tidbit of gossip from their past lives would be a Treat, by FAR the most fun she’s ever had traveling.

Cloe takes pics of Frankie posing with or trying out all the tourist trap usuals. Especially the cliché ones.

Frankie takes candid shots of Cleo handling their passports and tickets and checking time tables and happily reorganizing their itinerary at various unmentionable bus stops or train stations...

Sometimes (a lot of times) there's an iconic landmark blurry and out of focus in the background when they take pics of her

(here's the Eldritch Tower in Scaris, mostly blocked by Cleo's head piece)

(the Leering Tower of Scares-a, waaaaay in the corner as Cleo chats with a local and gets directions to a nice little cafe)

(the shadows on the ground reveal Frankie climbed ON ancient Stone Haunt to get a better angle of Cleo spreading all the maps and tickets and brochures on the grass nearby, smiling as she works out the BEST trip they could POSSIBLY have together)

so yes. All these sights they came to see, that other monsters can't take their eyes off of, and Frankie has even less to compare it too, all the easier for them to get impressed by it-

Even so, right then, they were happier just looking at Cleo

and cleo has the pictures to prove it

#monster high gen 3 #clankie #cleo de nile #frankie stein #otp prompts #looooong

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akwolfgrl · 14 days ago

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Do you want the masculine or feminine side I can do both. Part 2

“It was originally made to be a captain's room, then it became storage, but it's not used for that anymore either. I knew I'd find a use someday!” Franky opened the door to a room they must have passed by more than once or twice but never paid much mind to.

It was about half the size of Nami and Robin's room on the Marry, maybe a little bigger. There was a port window where they could smoke! They weren't allowed to smoke in the boy's room. There was an extra infirmary cot they could use as a bed.

“I can fix it up in no time! Vanity, bed, an end table and dresser good for you? There's not a lot of room.”

“Can I get a chair by the window? Maybe a small shelf for an ashtray?” They asked, Nami and Robin's old room had a desk for Namis maps. That wasn't something they needed. They tended to work and write their recipes in the kitchen. It made the most sense.

“Yah not a problem! Anything eles?”

“A small jewelry box, and this isn't for my room, but I need a bigger or second spice rack.”

Franky gave them a big thumbs up. “You got it! You should see some of the ideas I cooked up,” Franky winked at them. “For improving the kitchen mostly a hidden pantry for preserves and space for dehydration and freeze drying food! Cook, you are gonna love it! It will be a super way to preserve food!”

“Are you serious!” Sanji exclaimed. Only the lovely ladies and Franky who installed the fridge knew the code. They couldn't trust that the others wouldn't blurt it out or let Luffy in. “That would be perfect! Fuck I have so many ideas alredy!” If Franky wasn't a man Sanji would be gushing over how amazing he was.

“I'll get started right away. You'll have a super bedroom in time!” Sanji expected him to leave, but instead, he paused in the open door. “Wanna hear what else I got planned for the Sunny? You'll think it's super.” Franky asked them.

Sanji shrugged. They highly doubted they would care, but they would be nice since Franky was going through all the trouble of fixing up a room for them. “Sure I guess.”

Sanji watched as Franky opened their stomach and pulled out blueprints. “I already showed Nami-sis and Little-bro. It's a greenhouse!” Franky held the paper open to allow Sanji to look at them. “Of course, a lock to keep Luffy out.”

“Wow!” Sanji couldn't help but to exclaimonce again, already dreaming up all the wonderful dishes they could cook up with the fresh produce how they could preserve. From their own greenhouse.

“Little-bro volunteered to plant everything! Nami-sis had belli in her eyes at all that she would save on grocery runs!”

“I look forward to cooking with our own vegetables.”

Zoro climbed out of the water after destroying the ship he was on. A familiar presence waited for him on the shore. Someone he had been waiting for. Sanji had changed in the two years apart, and Zoro couldn't stop staring at them. The skin-tight black pants left little to the imgasion, the heels made their muscular thighs look even better, the white shirt was flowy and fussy. His hair was much longer, pulled back in two long braids, except for bangs covering his other eye. A trail of smoke trailed above his head as he smirked at Zoro.

Fuck, Zoro wanted to kiss that smirk off his stupid face, brush back the bangs and see both eyes as the pupils grow with lust. He wanted to use the damn cooks flexibility to bend him all sorts of positions as he fucked him. How the hell did the damn ero-cook get even fucking hotter in the last two years?

#one piece #fanfic #black leg sanji #sanji #roronoa zoro #zoro #zoro x sanji #genderfuild sanji #do you want the masculine or feminine side i can do both

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jedifarmerr · 1 year ago

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Wasteland Masterlist

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader/OFC (established backstory, no y/n or physical descriptions)

Summary: Sentenced to a life underground after a nuclear attack, what was said to be a quick and painless process somehow ended up taking 200 years. Waking up alone with everyone else still frozen, a search for help and answers turns upside down when four mysterious men come into the picture.

Rating: E (warnings: language, food & eating, mentions of death.)

Word Count: 5k

Chapter 10

Frankie watched her relief morph into confusion as Preston went over the Council’s stipulations. She was clearly not expecting this. Perhaps, they should’ve told her outright why they started calling her Blue, but she never questioned it. Never even mentioned it aside from a slightly confused look.

He assumed she understood, but it seemed she thought the alias was more temporary, rather than possibly permanent.

They knew that if people found out the truth about her it’d tear through the Commonwealth like a grass fire. Uncontrollable. Unpredictable. One big mouth and within a month, Jamaica Plains would be roaring with the news.

The chances of Vault-Tec catching wind of it was slim, but not impossible. Even a 1% chance posed too much risk. Sanctuary would seriously be fucked. That wall would be as worthless as wet mud against an all-out synth brigade.

Truthfully, Frankie was more concerned about her safety. He wasn’t an idiot, and definitely not a hypocrite. He could realize she’d be a hard sell to some – people like Tom, who wouldn’t take the word of a Vault-Tec employee’s kid. Everyone knew those people would want concrete proof, some hard evidence that they didn’t quite have just yet. Without it, there would be riots demanding her head on a stake, and there was bound to be one crazy enough to take matters into their own hands.

Frankie wasn’t gonna let that happen. She was their responsibility.

“Do you accept?” Preston finally asked her and the room went still and quiet as a tomb. She gnawed on her bottom lip, toying with the hem of her shirt.

The red rug she stood upon was like her own little island. She looked so lost in the center of the room. So helpless and small and so utterly alone that it made his skin feel tight. He supposed - she was alone in this world. Everyone she loved was either dead and gone or deceived her. Her entire life was one big facade. She must’ve been so fed up with all these secrets and lies and cover ups.

For a moment he worried she might say no, but she inevitably folded. She nodded and he didn’t know if she thought there was much of a choice. This was so much bigger than her - than all of them. He wondered when Tom would finally realize that.

Preston appeared to notice her distress and quickly assured her that he’d take the blame if her cover got blown. As long as her true identity didn’t leave this room, they didn’t anticipate that happening anytime soon.

If ever.

Unless they could figure out how to crack into the cryogenic pods, she would always be Blue. If her and her dad were as close as she said, then he’d be desperate to find her. The synths in Lexington had been looking for her, after all. Somebody had noticed she was missing from the vault.

In order to avoid any suspicion, she would need to integrate herself into Sanctuary immediately. There would be no special treatment. Just like everyone else, she would need a job.

Stable hand? Greenhouse worker? Waitress at the town tavern? No - no - no. Each one was axed for one reason or another.

Suddenly, Tom cleared his throat, his eyes fell on Frankie.

“What about your mom?” he asked – challenged. “Last I heard, no one’s taken Susan’s spot since she retired.”

Frankie’s mouth watered, he nearly spat the sour taste in his mouth onto the cheap lino tile. He could not believe Tom was using his mom as bait. Out of anyone, Tomy knew how protective Frankie was of her, how tender a spot that was, and yet…

Whether to prove his point or get his way, Frankie didn’t know Tom’s motive, but either way it was low, even for Tom.

No - especially for Tom. As if bringing up his dad wasn’t enough, Tom had gone for the jugular.

Preston straightened, his chair howling through the hall. He hesitated before saying, “It is just your mom and Yovanna. If they did catch onto anything, I’d trust they’d be discreet.”

“Exactly.” Tom’s chin cut through the air. “Whaddaya say Fish?”

Frankie looked at Blue, and she gave him a weak smile. She expected him to say no, he realized. She’d even seemed to accept it, and he instantly felt bad. Even though he had his reasons, he’d been the least welcoming, by far.

Everyone on the Council was staring at him – Tom’s gaze was searing. Usually, Frankie would back down to him. He could tell Tom thought he would concede here, as well. And three weeks ago, Frankie would’ve without question. He would’ve said not a fucking chance – that was too far, too much, too personal.

But, everything was different now. Tom had asked if he trusted her, and he did. He meant it when he nodded.

Frankie folded his arms across his chest before saying, “Okay.”

Tom’s lips thinned with silence. He didn’t say a word, nor did he have to. Frankie could tell he was pissed – the vein on his forehead was thick and throbbing. Still, Frankie didn’t budge. Not this time.

“Is that a yes?” Preston asked – speak now or forever hold your peace.

“Yeah,” Frankie confirmed and Tom didn’t look at him again for the rest of the day.

—

That night, at the welcome home party, Preston announced there’d be a new face in town. The Council had thought it would be best to roll out the story before anyone laid eyes on her. This way, they could get ahead of it. Control the narrative, so to speak.

They had crafted up a perfect poke-proof cover story; something no one could cross-examine.

It’d been decided she would come from a survivalist bunker, way north of Diamond City. Over the years, an especially hard last few months of attacks – bloatflies, ghouls, and ants, had dwindled their numbers. By the time their unit found them, the survivors were few and mostly wounded. The entire compound was in absolute shambles. Despite their open offer, she was the only one who took them up on it. She had no reason to say, having buried the last of her family just before they arrived.

All night, Frankie had to navigate an overly curious crowd. Lost in the crush of questions, he barely had a moment to catch his breath or even catch up with the people he actually wanted to. He’d hoped for more than a few seconds alone with his mom to tell her about the arrangement, but instead, he’d have to tell her over breakfast.

Probably better that way. No distractions.

The next morning, Frankie arrived at his mom’s shop. Bay’s Soaps. The powder blue sign hung above a hinged glass door. He went around back, up the stairs and knocked twice before letting himself in.

Cast iron pans sizzled on the stove top. The smell of eggs, beans, and frying sausages brought back memories of his childhood. Every morning, his mom used to get up extra early just to cook him a hearty breakfast before school.

“Pollito!” His mom kissed him firmly on both cheeks. The food on her apron smeared across his worn t-shirt as she hugged him, a tad tighter than usual.

Most of the time, his missions only kept him away for a month – maybe two. Their unit in particular had a reputation for being timely, effective and efficient. It was rare for them to be more than a few days late, unless something went terribly wrong. Like that one mission over a decade ago.

Frankie shuddered, recalling the bad operation. Them, along with two other units had been sent to scope out a lead past Weymouth, but only made it as far as Quincy. Shit went south so quickly. A pack of ghouls had busted free of an apartment building. The scar that ran down Pope’s spine came from that day – a ghoul’s long fingernail, sharper than a knife, sliced him right down the middle.

He could still remember those screams – the harsh crack and wet slashing of flesh. Brutal. Bloody. A gruesome scene – three young soldiers mangled beyond recognition. Their squadron captain had insisted on bringing them home for a proper burial. They had wrapped their carcasses in dusty, dirty sheets and tied it shut with copper wire. The whole trek back, his ears had buzzed with swarming bugs.

The oven dinged and his mom pulled away with an affectionate pat on his cheek. As she finished up, he brewed them a fresh pot of coffee, poured out two cups, then took a seat.

Of course, his mom made way too much food for two people to eat. The bistro table was spread thin with heaping platters that meant days of leftovers.

“Saw Susan last night. Sounds like she’s enjoying retirement. Have you found anyone to replace her, yet?” Frankie eased into the conversation.

“No luck.” She sighed – Susan had retired even before he’d left. “You wouldn’t happen to be interested, though would you?”

Frankie chuckled, shaking his head. He shuffled the scrambled eggs on his plate with his fork. “But the new girl - Blue - she’s looking for a job.”

His mom hooked up an intrigued brow as she continued to stir a little milk into her coffee.

“I don’t think she’ll give you any problems. She’s smart, catches on quick.”

“What else’s she like?” She probed, trying to appear casual as she took the mug in both her hands and brought it to her lips. Coy, though, had never been her strong suit. Her eyes gave her away.

Frankie speared a sausage onto his fork, and ate it whole. He needed a moment to figure out how to answer that. Blue was supposed to be a girl from bumfuck, so he couldn’t say she was a spoiled brat, even though she was sometimes. He couldn’t say that she was charming or even sweet when she wanted to be without his mom getting the wrong idea. The last thing he needed was her meddling.

Still, he had to give his mom something. At least a crumb, or else she would keep hassling him until he spilled.

Frankie swallowed – shrugged.

“She’s…funny, I guess. She’s got a lot of opinions. If you let her, she’ll probably talk your ear off. She can sometimes be a little stubborn, but that might just be with me-”

“Do you two get along?” She interrupted – confused, her brows slightly knitted.

“For the most part.”

“Meaning?”

It’s complicated. “Sometimes, we get on each other’s nerves.”

She pursed her lips – eyes squinted with suspicion.

“What?”

“I swear, I better not hear that you were mean to that poor girl.” She jabbed an accusatory finger towards his chest. “Think you were raised better than that-”

Frankie scoffed, “Trust me - she’s not innocent.”

She made a face – not totally convinced. Ultimately, she waved it off. “I guess, I’ll see for myself, now. Won’t I?”

“Guess so.” He grinned then felt a pang of guilt in his chest. Even though he didn’t have much choice, he still hated lying to his mom.

He wondered how she would react if she knew who Blue really was.

—--

For a few days, you were to remain a ghost. Just long enough to give the Council time to get their ducks in a row and the story to sink in and travel.

The Welcome Home party had served as a perfect diversion, so no one had spotted you. Kasumi had been nice enough to offer up the apartment above her garage. While it wasn’t much bigger than your freshman year dorm room, at least, it didn’t smell like that weird bean soup your roommate always used to heat up in the microwave.

This place had only been vacant since this summer when Kasumi’s daughter moved out after getting married. The space wasn’t really meant for two. You supposed the tight squeeze wouldn’t be terrible for people in love, but you were holed up in here with Frankie.

Three days. He must’ve been assigned as your guard or maybe he thought you’d take off and run again if he left you alone because he barely let you out of his sight.

It was impossible to ignore him, either. You couldn’t just pretend or forget he was here when his body swallowed the doorways. He was too damn broad for this place.

The two of you fought like territorial kangaroos over the boxy kitchen. Shoulder jabs, bumping elbows, you’d snap at him whenever he got too close after the first night when he nudged you in the arm while you were stirring spaghetti sauce. It was a huge mess. Globs of red splattered over the secondhand apron, under the storm-gray cabinets and even a little on the pastel yellow walls. He claimed it was an accident, but his schoolboy snicker made you think otherwise.

In order to keep you entertained, he brought over a deck of cards, but would only play speed, which he annoyingly called Spit!

And even worse, he won 90% of the time.

After a few losing rounds, you’d pout and demand a different game. He’d taunt you, call you a sore loser until you gave him a rematch. You wanted to smack that stupid smirk off his face when he’d win again.

But for all that you cursed and griped and grouched about him, you hated even more when he left. All alone, there was no TV - no radio to fill the silence. You’d betrayed your family, and could not stop reeling with it.

What did you do? What have you done?

Second-thoughts slithered in, and you found it impossible to stop your head from spinning. You didn’t know who to trust anymore. You’d blindly believed your dad, and didn’t want to make the same mistake again.

What if these guys were wrong? What if they were the ones lying?

If you let it, these doubts would consume you. Instead of being swallowed whole by anxiety, you were intent on busying yourself.

Sadly, the bookshelves were depleted and anything left had seemingly been forgotten for good reason. However, you noticed a thick layer of dust on the encyclopedia. Underneath the sink in the kitchen, there was a basket full of rags and sponges and cleaning supplies.

You’d scrubbed every square inch and surface in this apartment until your fingertips were pruny and raw as leather. The 24-piece china set was freshly polished, the hand-painted goldfinches and delicate butterflies now shining in the spotless glass hutch. Afterwards, you’d taken to rearranging the furniture and jilted knick-knacks and leftover decor.

Frankie, much too perceptive, seemed to notice.

On your last night of temporary house arrest, he’d left to pick up dinner. 45 minutes, and multiple trinkets had shifted around the room like haunted figurines. You’d caught him eyeing the porcelain pigs on top of the mantle, the hourglass in their previous spot on the second row of a built-in shelf.

For a moment, you thought he was going to say something, but instead - he unpacked the food and laid it out on the coffee table. After dinner, he had grabbed the deck cards from the side table without mentioning the change of vase.

That night, he hung around longer than usual.

One more game. Go Fish this time. Ever play Slap Jack? Is the sink still acting funny? I’ll fix it.

He did leave, eventually. Just not until your eyelids were stuck at half-mast, your words sluggish and slurry from needing sleep.

The next morning, he was at your door bright and early, ready to take you to the first day of work.

—

You hadn’t really been able to see much of the town. Kasumi had smuggled you from the Council building at night, so you made a few things out in the dark. The windows in your apartment didn’t offer much of a view.

After Diamond City, you expected a town of steel houses. Surprisingly, Marblehead looked nearly identical to before.

As you walked in the middle of the street, you could finally scope out the cottages and colonials that still lined the narrow, windy roads. On a sunny day like this, you would’ve anticipated a traffic jam, a bad headache, but there was no honking. No SUV’s hogging up space. Not even a single car in sight.

It was peaceful. It was nice. Strange, but nice.

During the walk, Frankie explained how people got around the old-fashion way: foot, bikes, and horseback. There was even a carriage taxi service that seemed very on brand with the 18th century architecture.

Frankie led you onto the main street and you looked around at the familiar storefronts. Suddenly, you noticed everyone was staring at you. The street buzzed with whispers and glances.

There had been some lingering looks and stares in Diamond City but it was much more crowded, denser. You could slip into the masses and disappear, but not here. Your arrival had been announced, everyone was expecting you.

You averted your eyes to the cracked sidewalk, feeling very self-conscious. The insecurity reminded you of second grade when you were the new kid in school and had to stand in front of the class to introduce yourself. All the kids had stared at you. Nora had threatened to spit on them if she caught them looking too long again. For that comment, she had to walk laps at recess for the rest of the week.

These people, though, scared you more than a classroom full of eight-year-olds.

Frankie must’ve noticed them staring too since he inched closer, the hair on his arm tickled your skin and you could smell his soap in the air.

“They’re just curious,” Frankie whispered. “It’s not everyday someone new shows up.”

Still, Frankie straightened. He had on just a plain black t-shirt and jeans and still looked uncommonly intimidating. Even without a gun strapped to his back, it seemed like nobody wanted to fuck with him. He glared at one shopkeeper and it put the fear of God into them, they immediately turned away and went double-time on raising their sun-salt dull awning.

You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of warmth at his protectiveness. But you supposed it was his job, after all, to keep you safe.

“Have you fought a lot of people or something?” You lightly nudged his shoulder with yours. A tiny smile toyed with his lips.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Frankie guided you into a cape cod building that was wedged between a tailor and a sub shop. It used to be a funky cafe with fancy latte art and slam poetry on Wednesday that Nora dragged you to one night.

Luckily, the soap shop didn’t smell so potent that your eyes watered like at Bath & Body Works. There was a fresh scent of lemongrass and citrus and something else flowery.

“Pollito?” A woman’s voice - his mom, you guessed - shouted from the back.

“Little chicken, huh?” You looked him over. “I see it.”

“Funny,” he grumbled when the back door swung open. It was definitely his mom.

She came and greeted him with a kiss on both cheeks, and he slung his arm around her shoulders. It was sweet, but also shocking to see him be so affectionate. At times, he’d rest his arm on Benny or Santi’s shoulder, he’d hugged Piper goodbye, but other than that, it wasn’t a side you often saw from him.

His mom fished out a pair of glasses from her apron and slipped them on. She rapidly blinked as if surprised. She looked you up and down as Frankie introduced you.

“Josefa.” She shook your hand. “But everyone calls me Pepa.” Her eyes were warm and doe-like, that same shade of earthy, dark brown as Frankie’s.

She had a perfectly round face - plump cheeks and a button nose. Truly, she was a beautiful woman, though much softer than Frankie. He must have inherited his striking, sharp angles from his father. His aquiline nose. That divot in his bottom lip. A square jaw that you swore was carved from stone. Even though he could be such a grouch, he really was quite attractive.

You wondered if you would ever meet his dad. Was he still around? Or was he long gone? You had enough common sense not to ask.

You made a turn about the shop, in particular admiring the back wall that resembled a beehive of sorts with hexagonal boxes in honey-golden wood that each stored a wicker basket brimming with a colorful assortment of soaps.

Pepa must’ve noticed you staring because she proudly boasted, “Frankie built that. And all by himself, too.”

He’d never mentioned being into carpentry, but it was clearly more than just some throwaway hobby. This was high quality.

“I gotta admit, I’m impressed.”

Frankie’s lips parted as if he couldn’t believe those words just came from you. “Is that a compliment?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

Pepa gave you a quick tour of the store. In the back, there was a kitchen with ample counter space to make soap, along with a pantry, now used for curing. The shop wouldn’t open for another hour and a half, so Yovanna had not come in yet. She was the one who did the cold-process, whereas Pepa was exclusively liquid.

For the last few months, the two of them had been splitting your job, which would be manning the counter and packaging. It seemed easy enough, given that you had worked retail, just two summers ago.

Frankie offered to stick around and help stock the shelves, just until Yovanna arrived. Pepa happily agreed, on the condition that he didn’t get in the way of your training.

She started with the register which, at first, you pretended to act clueless on how it worked. You’d pause for a few seconds as if trying to recall her instructions. Every once in a while, you’d hit the wrong button. Pepa was relieved to hear that your compound was big on education, so you knew basic math. Frankie couldn’t help but grin behind her back at your bold-face lie.

She was demonstrating how to package the soaps when Yovanna showed up. The woman was fucking gorgeous - perfectly arched eyebrows and skin as golden as Frankie’s. Her long, dark hair was pulled into low, messily braided pigtails that pretty much no one else except for her could pull off.

For some reason, you found yourself unable to look away as Frankie wrapped his big arms around her tiny frame. You could see his lips moving, but his voice was far too hushed for you to hear. His chin rested on her shoulder and he glanced up.

Shit.

Abruptly, you turned away and returned to studying Pepa’s hands.

When Yovanna finally came over, she politely introduced herself before heading into the kitchen. She was somehow even more beautiful up close.

Frankie finished up with the last few baskets before asking if you were going to be okay. Despite your thumbs up, he appeared hesitant to leave. Pepa offered him a reassuring smile, and he tugged his cap over his eyes, gave a single wave goodbye before heading out the door.

—

All morning, there were faces pressed up against the glass like you were a Saks Fifth Avenue mannequin during the holiday season.

The customers could rarely hide their surprise when you spoke in complete sentences. It was hard not to notice their furtive looks and pitiful glances, even on occasion you caught Pepa and Yovanna staring.

It seemed like despite Preston’s best attempts to make your compound sound grand - a whole neighborhood of doomsday preppers instead of a few families - everyone expected a girl with seven fingers and missing toes and teeth. Perhaps, they imagined Mystique. Or someone with a single eye like a cyclops.

Whatever they imagined, it was certainly not you.

Around lunch, you spotted Frankie outside on the sidewalk. He was storming towards the pack of teenagers peeping in through the window like an angry bull. The kids dispersed like terrified ants.

Quickly, you went back to wrapping the bar of soap in cream parchment before he could notice that you saw. He’d undoubtedly ask about them if he noticed you looking. You really didn’t want to talk about being the town freak show.

The out-of-tune bell above the door rang as you tied a perfect, hemp string bow around the soap.

He glanced around the shop - it was only you on the floor. After the morning rush died down, Pepa and Yovanna retreated into the kitchen. Soon, one of the two would wander out to check-in, as long as they heard the bell.

“Well, look who couldn’t stay away,” you said with a playful grin.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” His steps echoed over the hollow laminate floors as he moved towards you. “Just wanted to see how things were going.”

“What? Did you not have anything better to do?”

“Than this?” Frankie shook his head.

He clipped his aviators onto his shirt collar as he approached the checkout counter. His palm slid easily over the smooth butcher block - the same honey-gold as the boxes on the wall behind you. You wondered if he also made this with his own two hands, sanded it down and stained it.

Frankie’s eyes dipped over your outfit. “Nice apron.”

You huffed at his sarcasm. “I look like a Starbucks worker.”

“What the fuck is a Starbucks?”

“Coffee shop.” You pointed across the street. “There used to be one where Willy’s Good Juice is now, whatever the hell that is.”

Frankie grimaced. He wrinkled his nose like he was about to be sick. “Some advice: don’t ever drink that shit. You’ll regret it.”

“Noted.” You had the same visceral reaction when anyone mentioned Mango Burnetts.

Yovanna stepped inside the room. When her gaze landed on Frankie, she gave him a mischievous smirk. She leaned back, her body propping open the door.

“You’re right,” she yelled over her shoulder into the kitchen. “It is him.”

Frankie let out a huff of annoyance, narrowing his eyes at her as if she was his tattletaling little sister. The pointed look reminded you of Alice, though she never smiled at you afterwards. Instead, she’d call you a rat and a blabber mouth or simply a bitch, even though she was the one tormenting a kid.

She seemed to enjoy ripping up your coloring books and decapitating your stuffed animals and dolls until dad forced her to buy a new one with her own allowance.

As Pepa slid into the room, she squeezed past Yovanna, then put her hands on her hips. She looked serious, squinting at Frankie before turning to you.

“Is he bothering you?” Her tone was light - her lips twitched and there was no real malice in her eyes. She was messing with him.

“When is he not?” You asked and Frankie scoffed. He was not as much as the rest of you.

“How’re my employees suppose to do their job?” Pepa tsked her tongue at Frankie. “I swear between you and Santi.”

Santi?

You glanced at Yovanna, who was twirling her braid around her finger and giggling like a girl with a crush. Was something going on between her and Santi?

Mary had said the guys didn’t technically date, but perhaps she was wrong. After all, Will clearly had feelings for Curie, judging by the smile on his face when he saw her in the Council hallway. He’d cradled the back of her head, holding her tightly in his arms as if he could not bear to let her go. Label or not, there was something going on there.

You didn’t know about Benny, but during his visits this week, he did talk an awful lot about some guy named Keith.

You wondered - did Frankie also have someone here?

—-

Since he was already there, his mom suggested that he take Blue out for lunch – at Polly’s.

“Are you hungry?” he asked her and she shrugged.

“I could eat.” She hung up her apron, then he guided her next door into the sandwich shop.

Past the lunch rush, the narrow dining room was practically empty. Just a few people eating at the counter, who all turned and stared at her without any shame. God – what was wrong with these people? As she looked over the menu, he gave them a hard glare. Immediately, their gazes dispersed around the restaurant – to the retro wood paneled walls, mustard lino floors, and the half-eaten plates on the beige formica bar top.

After ordering at the register in the front, they found a table tucked away in a corner. His jeans scratched against the cracked leather cushion as he slid into the booth. Silently, she examined the ceramic-cow salt & pepper shakers, the out of commission tabletop jukebox and its list of songs. He would’ve asked if she knew any of them if they were alone.

The cushion squeaked as she leaned back. “So, what have you been up to today? Other than missing me, of course.”

He rolled his eyes at the last part, before answering. “Nothing really. Ran some errands – helped Pope fix up his fence. How’s work been?”

“Good. Your mom’s been great, so has Yovanna.” She glanced down at her water cup and twisted it around in circles. “Are she and Pope like a thing?”

“A thing?” What the fuck did that mean?

She snorted at his confusion. “Are they like - together?”

Frankie tilted his head from side to side as he figured out how to answer. Technically – no, they weren’t together in the traditional sense of boyfriend-girlfriend. In their line of work, it was hard to maintain a normal, healthy relationship.

His first and only girlfriend was his highschool sweetheart. Lacey. Charming Lacey with long, golden hair and dimpled cheeks. Striking summer grass eyes that had never seen the cruelty of the wasteland. She was born in the safety of the walls of Sanctuary unlike him.

After his first mission, she told him it was over. She wanted a family – a husband who would be around to help raise the kids, not someone who was constantly in-and-out, who she didn’t know whether they were alive or dead. It was almost word for word what Molly had said to Tom after she found out she was pregnant with Tess. Tom wasn’t ready to retire, but he didn’t have much of a choice.

“Sorta,” Frankie finally answered. “It’s complicated.”

“Same with Will and Curie?”

Frankie nodded and she hummed thoughtfully. He waited for her to push for more information, but she didn’t.

Instead, she sat silently with her hands clasped neatly on the table. Her brows slightly furrowed, appearing to be deeply in her own head. He didn’t think she had a crush on Santi or Will. At least, she never acted like it. If he had to guess anyone, it’d be Benny only because of how well they got along.

Still, something was bothering her. He’d become exceptionally well-versed in her facial expressions, her subtle and not-so-subtle shifts in mood, and with her – silence never meant anything good.

“What is it?” He nudged and she didn’t answer. She could be so goddamn obstinate. “What’re you thinking about?”

She must’ve realized he would not let this go as she let out a sigh. She glanced at him and then at the painted seahorse above his head.

“I guess I’ve started to realize how little I know about you,” she whispered. “All of you.”

“We could say the same about you.” He winced when the words left his mouth. It sounded more demining than he intended.

“It’s different and you know it. You guys have lives, all I have is…memories.” She stared down at her lap as if defeated. “None of it really matters anymore.”

“That’s not true.”

“Fine.” She harshly scoffed. “It’s irrelevant. Better?”

He shook his head in disagreement, but that was all the denial he could muster. He wouldn’t go as far as to say it didn’t matter, but it did no longer exist. The life she knew had been extinct, after all, for two centuries.

“Order 43!”

Frankie signaled for her to stay, then went and grabbed the two baskets from the bar. He plopped back down, sliced his sandwich down the middle, then did the same to hers without thinking. Wordlessly, he pushed the basket across the table to her.

“Thank you,” she said, then awkwardly lifted her sandwich up to her mouth and took a bite.

Frankie sucked a little mayo off his thumb. “So, what is it that you wanna know? About me - us?”

For a moment, she appeared stunned. Her cheeks were full – there was a drop of sauce on her lips. She licked it off, and his eyes followed the pink of her tongue.

She swallowed.

“Anything.” She shrugged. “Like, what’s your favorite color?”

“Seriously?” He snorted – out of everything.

She picked up a fry and pointed it at the center of his chest. “Judge all you want, but it can tell you a lot about a person.”

“You would think that,” he said before answering. “Green.”

“What kind of green?” There was a crisp crunch as she chomped on the fry.

This was ridiculous, but if it would make her feel better. “Dark green, forest green. What about you?”

“This might be a little cliche, but pink. Not hot pink, though. Soft pink, like cherry blossoms or peonies.”

For the rest of lunch, she continued to ask trivial questions.

Dogs or Cats: dogs.

Favorite Holiday: Christmas.

Birthday: August 23rd.

“Virgo,” she said, like suddenly everything about him made perfect sense.

She wiped her mouth with a napkin, then slurped the last of her water.

“Last one - if the world never ended, what would you’ve wanted to be?”

Easy. “A pilot.” He’d been obsessed with the sky ever since he was little.

He could remember spending hours on the cold floor in his bedroom, flipping through faded illustrations in children’s books. He wished and hoped and prayed that one day – he could see it for himself.

Suddenly, he thought about having to tell her about that part of his life. How would she react? He couldn’t stomach another bite and lightly shoved away his basket.

Frankie knew he would have to tell her, but not right now. Not at Polly’s. Not anywhere in public.

But soon.

If he had learned anytime from last time, it was better to tell her before someone else let it slip.

#pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie x reader #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x f!reader #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales

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dissvicious · 11 months ago

Note

Talking about the Buggy to Crocodile simp pipeline : Would Crocodile be Reds type? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying he actually has any chances when Buggy is around or that Buggy need to worry about his wife being unfaithful, not even a little, more in a:

Getting silly after sex and shooting the shit with each other „Okay, Okay, „Fuck, marry,kill“ Sir Crocodile, Boa Hancock, Mihawk“ „Okay…. Marry Boa, obviously“ „Obviously.“ „…. Ooof… hard decision. There’s no way in hell I would come close to being able to kill either of them…. So I guess I’ll just go by who’d be the better lay…Kill Mihawk, fuck Crocodile I suppose.“ „…. Really? Huh.“ „Is that so surprising?“ „Nah, nah, he’s super hot, just didn’t think you’d go for him.“ „Listen. Mihawk is really handsome and all but Crocodile is just… god…“ „…“ „…. Aw. Too much? I’m sorry babe you’re still the hottest thing around. It’s just for the game. If we’d have played „Fuck marry cherish“ you’d be all options for me.“ „Haha, no it’s fine Bugs-„ Red smiles at her husband. „I’d totally fuck Crocodile too.“

Haaanw that's a cute prompt, thanks anon!

But to be honest I don't think Crocs would be Reddie's type. Neither Mihawk, tho. They are tooooo much serious! They take themselves too seriously! She really would find them annoying. I think she could have some "hate fuck pulsions" to them and could be somehow attracted by Mihawk sarcastic bitch jokes buuuut that would be all.

She fell for Buggy mostly because

She was bored as hell and he brought so many laughter into her life

He's an overcute pathetic whiny ass and she fell for this vulnerability.

sooo the big dark-sasuke-I'm-too-badass-to-show-feelings energy isn't really for her.

I thiiiink she would rather have a soft spot for men like Franky (would respect too much Frobin to ever admit that - just I can easily imagine Robin and Red spending time on the Sunny's desk and looking at Franky and Red saying "damn sis, you have good tastes in men") or even Bonclay.

... Which may or may not piss off Buggy who could feel kind off insulted to not find himself in the "super badass casually sexy men" case.

She would also have a thing for Ace I think. He's way too young for her but nothing real, just a "damn if I had met you in my 20's, I would have fell for you young wolf" feeling you know?

However when it comes to women she can go Sanji mode real quick.

(so in your scenario, she would have say Fuck Boa without hesitation) (it may or may be in a situation like this that Buggy realised his wife goes both ways, tho.)

#buggy the clown #captain buggy #buggy one piece #redbombshipping #redbomb family #buggy x oc #buggy x reddie #one piece #sir crocodile

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porcelainleviathan · 6 days ago

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My finding frankie S/I Cash rabbit!!

Fun Facts:

-his rabbit ears work

-Hes trans (he/him)

-he is a little sassy bastard adrenaline junkie.

-Hes very much a simp who adores frankies attention.

#finding frankie game #finding frankie #mascot horror #selfship #self insert #oc x cannon #oc x cc #self ship art #si x canon #(If youve read this far)#(you get to know a secret)#(This is just me as an alter)#(drawing myself)#(and calling myself one of my nicknames)#(Shhh)#(dont tell the plebs)

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thevalicemultiverse · 1 month ago

Note

To the group (Cuddlepile):

I found this trailer for a new video game that coming out this year and thought you guys would be interested in it.

Here's the link:

https://youtu.be/WEIzHD_nI8c?si=S_DkIBZfTwCFUI4X

Cuddlepile

Alice: ...Well, "parkour horror" wasn't a genre I expected to be invented this year.

Smiler: The movement mechanics look interesting, at least! Nice to see people trying new things with their horror games!

Victor: Mmm...I -- I don't think I'll be playing it, but I wish the people behind it the best.

((For the curious, the video is for the trailer for Finding Frankie, an upcoming "mascot horror" game where you are trapped in what is essentially a giant parkour-based theme park using all your parkour skills to run from Frankie and whatever other evil things are in the park. ...I have to confess to having more LISTENED to the trailer (and read the description) than watched it because jumpscares really freak me out and I don't always do great with mascot horror -- I still have to avoid too much exposure to classic Five Nights At Freddy's!))

#toonsisters #~M: I want some questions! now! (ask)#~V: Cuddlepile #~T: Running Headlong Into The Bullshit #trailer for new game #~C: Victor Van Dort #~C: Alice Liddell #~C: Smiler Alton #((so yes Victor's thoughts are basically my own #not for me but I wish the game studio the best #good on them for trying to shake up the mascot horror formula a little))#~M: with this hand I will lift your queue

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thelazykiwi · 1 year ago

Text

Monster High Characters As Sims #1 🦇

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ Hello Kiwis! The Following cc is from a recent Create-a-sim video that I’ll link near the end of the post! Check it out if you haven’t already! ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩

Draculaura

NOTE!: If you can’t find a link to something you saw in the video, I could not find it.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

CC:

Heart Face Tattoo: https://www.thesimsresource.com/downloads/details/category/sims4-accessories-female-tattoos/title/loly-tattoos-n14/id/1555092/

Boots: https://trillyke.tumblr.com/post/639826964560134144/no-mercy-boots-still-on-the-platform-boots-wagon

Hair: https://www.curseforge.com/sims4/create-a-sim/kai-hair

Hair Color Strips: https://www.thesimsresource.com/downloads/details/category/sims4-hair-hairstyles-female/title/dua-hairstyle/id/1494524/ & https://simandy.tumblr.com/post/712894857102917632/look-at-them-look-at-my-boys-took-me-longer-than

Earrings: https://legacy.curseforge.com/members/reaper428/projects

Teeth: https://yooniesim.tumblr.com/post/687869959791165440/supernatural-teeth-set-10-sets-of-teeth-in

Necklace: https://www.curseforge.com/sims4/create-a-sim/princess-of-x-pearl-heart-necklace/files/4542156

Top: https://trillyke.tumblr.com/post/633752920869027840/hide-seek-top-knitted-vest-over-a-white-short

Skirt: https://aharris00britney.tumblr.com/post/628080330396565504/axa-2020

Clawdeen:

Stockings: https://sentate.tumblr.com

Nails: https://www.tumbex.com/lynxsimz.tumblr/posts?tag=3d

Top: https://aharris00britney.tumblr.com/post/628080330396565504/axa-2020

Teeth: https://yooniesim.tumblr.com/post/687869959791165440/supernatural-teeth-set-10-sets-of-teeth-in

Necklace: https://ikari-sims.tumblr.com/post/704555451830943744/winterland-collection-hello-there-cuties-i-bring

Hair: https://thekunstwollen.tumblr.com/post/691248937053585408/hello-once-again-im-here-with-a-hairstyle-made

Skirt: https://www.serenity-cc.com/post/679553087081496576/euphoria-collection-33-items

Boots: https://trillyke.tumblr.com/post/673343951707815936/michiko-tokyo-street-fashion-collection-tokyo

Eyes: https://www.thesimsresource.com/downloads/details/category/sims4-eyecolors/title/s-club-wm-ts4-eyecolors-201812/id/1408993/

Ears: https://www.patreon.com/posts/no-bite-ears-and-68105390

Jacket: https://greenllamas.tumblr.com/post/705377886212915200/downtown

Frankie:

Socks: https://www.patreon.com/posts/frill-socks-60282590

Frankie details: https://eileenccfolder.tumblr.com/post/695616861243637760/c-cerberus-sims-s-craft-your-frankie-stein-with

Shoes: https://eileenccfolder.tumblr.com/post/695616861243637760/c-cerberus-sims-s-craft-your-frankie-stein-with

Nails: https://www.patreon.com/posts/66634657

Bag: https://www.thesimsresource.com/downloads/details/category/sims4-accessories-female-rings/title/drew-crossbody-bag/id/1367424/

Outfit: https://sentate.tumblr.com/post/635394993993990144/sentate-x-trillyke-2020-trillyke-and-i-have-come

Hair: https://simfileshare.net/folder/191513/

Necklace: https://www.christopher067.com/hillside-necklace

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Here is the video I made on her if you have not had the chance to see it yet!

Link: https://youtu.be/tkF4fGAB_Ik?si=lS9MG6KVy4umuN8P

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

NOTE:

Please respect these creators and the rules that they have based around using their cc. Do not reupload or claim it as your own, they work very hard and deserve the recognition that they get!

Thank you all, enjoy the lovely cc! 💕

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Anyway that’s all guys, check out my channel and other platforms if you haven’t already, love ya!

Linktree: https://linktr.ee/the.lazy.kiwi

~Kiwi

#the sims 4 #sims #ts4 #sims 4 #the sims #sims4 #thesims #sims 4 mods #sims 4 cc #sims 4 custom content #ts4 custom content #sims 4 download #the sims 4 cc

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bellofthemeadow · 1 year ago

Text

The Road Ahead - ch 7 | Frankie Morales x female reader

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

For most of your married life, you dedicated yourself to waiting for Frankie. After each deployment, you patiently awaited his return, longing for the moment when he would be by your side again. During those nights when nightmares consumed his thoughts, you yearned for him to open up to you, hoping that he would find solace in sharing his pain. And as his addiction spiraled out of control, you held onto the hope that he would recognize his problem and seek help. However, despite your countless protests and pleas, you now find yourself waiting for him once more as he ventures off to Colombia, engaged in God knows what.

But this time is different. Determined, you make a solemn promise to yourself: You will never wait for Frankie again.

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 9K (Again, I have no excuses)

Warning: Applicable for the entire fic / PTSD, drug use and addiction, postpartum depression, abusive familial relationships, self-hatred, unhealthy coping mechanism, explicit sexual content, violence, mentions of suicidal thoughts, super angsty

Chapter Summary: What is left of you and Frankie and is it possible to rebuild after everything that has happened between you two?

Notes: Hey everyone, thank you again to everyone who liked, commented or reblogged the earlier chapters of this series it means the world to me that you all enjoy this! I also wanted to apologized because this took way longer to write than I anticipated, and I wasn't able to have it ready by Sunday like I thought. This is kind of bittersweet as it is almost the end of this story, only the epilogue will be left after this. I wasn't sure which direction to take with it, but I hope you will all enjoy where I've taken Frankie and his cielo. Love you all so much <3 <3 <3

One Day at a Time

Frankie follows two steps behind his mother, his arms full of paper grocery bags, while Alma opens the door of the old yellowish one-story home where Frankie grew up. "Por favor, coloca los comestibles en el mostrador," she requests. "Sí, mamá," Frankie replies. He puts the groceries down and wipes the beads of sweat from his forehead. The Floridian humidity has been killing him today.

Alma flutters back into the room like the 72-year-old tornado she is, this time with her arms full of seedlings, and she passes Frankie. "Y coloca la pizza congelada en el congelador," she instructs. "Sí, sí, no te preocupes, yo lo tengo." Frankie knows he was being short with his mother; his words were more biting than they should have been, especially since Alma allowed him to come back home after his stint in rehab. Shame creeps up his neck at his dry tone when his mother turns toward him. "Mamá…" However, Alma doesn't say anything. She approaches Frankie, softly grabs him by the shoulder, bringing him down to her level, and engulfs him in a tight hug that still makes him feel like a little boy after all these years. "Lo siento, Francisco. I don’t mean to boss you around Mijo. You know how mamas are." "Lo siento, Mamá. I didn’t mean to snap at you." Mother and son embrace in the middle of the kitchen, the full light of the afternoon sun illuminating the kitchen.

“Tell me what’s on your mind mijo. Are you not going to see Estrelita this afternoon? That always cheer you up.”

“Si. Once I put the groceries away, I am picking her up from Mrs. Hu and we’ll spend the rest of the day together.”

“And what about her mother?” Frankie lets out a sigh.

"We're going for lunch tomorrow. It's her first day off in a while, and honestly, the first day she won't be working an 11-hour shift. This new job is really working her to the bones.”

Since Frankie left rehab five days ago, he hadn't been able to see you. And it was eating at him, consuming him from the inside. He had already missed you so much these past few months, but now those added days were plain torture. You had talked briefly over the phone on the first night Frankie was back in his childhood home to arrange how he could see Ella in the upcoming days. The initial conversation had been awkward, to say the least. You had tentatively asked Frankie how he was feeling now that he was back, how rehab went, did he feel any different from before. Frankie had tried to be as forthcoming as possible, but he knows that over the phone he probably sounded like the stilted mess he felt like. But he tried, without the comfort of the routine rehab had provided, he was feeling anxious and tired. Rehab had gone as well as it could, although he was lonely and missed his family. You had taken a breath upon hearing his answer. He didn't feel that different, except for developing a newfound love for licorice as a by-product of sobriety. You had laughed at that, a breathy and airy laugh, as if you had been holding it in during the entire four months he was away. Frankie was overjoyed to hear he could still make you laugh, and he was tempted to do a victory dance in his old bedroom, between the posters of Top Gun and a young Winona Ryder.

After a moment had passed, a comfortable silence settled between you both, and Frankie had asked how you and Estrella were doing. Your voice sounded tired and sad over the phone. Frankie could picture you sitting on the edge of the bed, chewing on your bottom lip. Apparently, Ella was doing as well as a seven-month-old could be, although you were certain she was missing her daddy (Frankie's heart clenched at that thought). On the other hand, you were currently overwhelmed. You apologized for not being able to be there when he left rehab, and Frankie could hear the guilt seeping through your words. He was quick to reassure you, saying, "Don't worry about that, it wasn't much fun waiting for me to be cleared. It took almost two hours, it's not important." Your voice echoed in a quiet whisper that Frankie almost didn't catch: "It's important to me." Unsure of how to respond, he settled on humming softly.

You continued, explaining the reason for your absence. Apparently, the library at Florida University, while state-of-the-art, wasn't immune to flooding. You had spent the last three days knee-deep in water, trying to salvage the book collection, and you had been working almost eleven-hour days. You referred to it as a "nice little welcome gift." You told Frankie that by next week, you would finally be able to return to a normal work schedule, and you could see each other then. In the meantime, you assured Frankie that he could see Ella anytime and that you would clear it with Mrs. Hu to allow Ella to go with him. Although Frankie would have much preferred coming home to you and Ella, he understood why it was better for everyone involved that he stayed with his mother for a little bit. “Take care to not take it personally, it’s not against you personally. It’s important now to go at your wife’s pace. Take the time to show her how far you’ve gone, and allow time for you both to rebuild the trust that was broken” his therapist had said.

Nonetheless, Frankie was heartbroken upon learning that he wouldn't be able to see you for a couple more days. He had so much to tell you, so much to share, and so much to apologize for. But he could hear the exhaustion and stress in your voice. A baby, a new job, and a flood all at once? Frankie knew he would have needed more than cocaine to get through all of that. So instead, he murmured encouragement, "Don't worry about me, I'll take Ella during the day and spend some quality time with her. Gotta make sure she didn’t forget me, you know." The joke didn't land, and only a sniffle answered him. "I'll see you next week, take care of yourself, all right?" Frankie attempted to finish the conversation with his usual "I love you" but the line disconnected before he could get a word in edgewise.

Frankie flopped onto his bed, his eyes landing on the helicopter model on his bedside table, and he took a deep breath. He repeated the counting exercise, 1-2-3-3-2-1, five times. Grounding himself. It wasn't fair that you couldn't be there for the conversation he had dreamed of and meticulously rehearsed for the past three weeks, but life wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that you were married to a cocaine addict either, but what could one do? Frankie would wait for you, and for now, he would make sure to see Ella every day, creating memories with her and catching up on everything he had missed. Maybe at some point down the line, she would also crawl with him as she had done with you and Benny.

So, in the meantime, Frankie was back home with his mother. He tried to take on most of the household chores so as to contribute as much as he could. At the same time, he spent a lot of his evenings browsing online, searching for ways to appeal his suspension. He came across a recommendation for a lawyer who had served in the military back in 2002 and seemed willing to help him on that front. Will apparently knew the guy and according to him, he was legit. So, for the first time in a while, it looked like things were starting to look up for him.

Otherwise, Frankie devoted his afternoon to spending time with his little Estrelita. Without fail, every day at 1 pm, he would drive back to your home and knock on Mrs. Hu's door. This daily ritual was something he held onto tightly, never willing to miss a single visit. The anticipation would build as he waited for the door to swing open, and a rush of excitement and joy would flood his heart each time he caught a glimpse of Ella. However, no moment could ever compare to the overwhelming surge of emotions that nearly toppled him when he first laid eyes on Ella when he finally passed the two large doors of the Rehab facility 5 days ago.

Although you couldn't be there in person, you were adamant that Ella should be there to welcome Frankie back. So, you enlisted Will's help to bring Ella and make it a special moment. You provided Will with a detailed list of instructions, ensuring everything would be taken care of. In preparation, you gave him enough bottled milk to last at least two days, just in case, and a bag filled with Ella's favourite plush toys. You made sure Will was comfortable and capable of changing Ella if necessary, and he approached the task with the precision and efficiency of the military man he once was.

When Frankie swung open the wide entrance doors, his eyes were immediately drawn to Pope, who was making exaggerated arm movements, and Benny, who was jumping up and down like an excited child, holding a large sign that read "Kick the habit" adorned with an excessive amount of glitter. Although deeply touched by his brothers' enthusiastic welcome, it was the sight of Will, holding little Estrelita in his arms, that truly overwhelmed him. Frankie dropped his bags and sprinted towards them without hesitation. Scooping Ella into his arms, he held her delicately and pressed his tear-streaked face close to hers, unable to contain his emotions. Ella, for her part, displayed remarkable patience and giggled at the man holding her, tugging at his unruly brown curls and cooing happily. Frankie nestled his nose atop Ella's soft, damp head, his heart overflowing with a mixture of joy, longing, and remorse. He fought back the tears threatening to escape, determined to be strong for his precious Estrelita. After a few moments of simply holding her close, he found his voice, albeit choked with emotion, and whispered brokenly, "Papa missed you so much, Estrelita. My little princesa, papa is never going to leave you again. Te amo, Ella. Papa and mama love you so much."

As Frankie poured his heartfelt words into the air, a subtle shift occurred within Ella. Her eyes, previously filled with amusement, now glimmered with a glint of recognition. She seemed to respond to the familiar voice that had serenaded her during those long months, a voice that carried enchanting stories and was always brimming with love. Papa's voice was like a warm embrace that had the power to banish any lurking monsters from her world. It brought her solace and comfort, reminding her that she was cherished beyond measure.

Frankie found himself unable and unwilling to let go of Ella, holding her tightly for a solid 15 minutes before she started to fuss. Coming to the rescue, Will rummaged in the enormous pink bag you had packed for him and produced a bottle of milk, passing it to Frankie. Frankie sat down on the steps in front of the rehab center and fed Ella, cherishing this long-awaited moment of closeness after four months apart. The rest of the boys gathered around, expressing their sheer happiness at seeing their old friend, bombarding him with a flurry of questions. Did he feel better? Did he see God in there? Were the nurses hot? On a scale of 1 to 10, how much did he want cocaine now? Despite the barrage of inquiries, Frankie couldn't divert his attention from the little miracle nestled in his arms. In that moment, nothing else existed except his Estrellita.

Then came the time to head home. Frankie's heart was brimming with a mix of emotions as he prepared to leave the rehab center, his precious Estrelita nestled securely in his arms. As they walked towards the car, Pope couldn't contain his joy any longer, and with a hearty slap on Frankie's back, he exclaimed, "Fish, so glad to see you've ditched that half-dead corpse look. Cocaine was definitely not your colour." Frankie, caught off guard by the sudden impact, instinctively pushed Pope's arm back with the one that wasn't cradling Ella. An amused smile played on his lips as he retorted, "Pendejo,"

"Hey, no swearing in front of the baby," Benny exclaimed with a touch of melodrama, pretending to cover Ella's ears. Her ear-piercing giggle filled the air, bringing a smile to everyone's faces. Frankie narrowed his eyes, and before he could give Benny a piece of his mind, Will stepped in, playfully knocking Benny on the head. "Come on, you know the baby doesn't speak Spanish, so it doesn't count, right, Fish?" he said. "Right.” Frankie levelled a hard stare at Benny, “I’m not planning on making a habit of swearing in front of my baby," Frankie assured.

Benny finally sensed that something was amiss, he took a deep breath and kicked his shoe against a rock, sending it flying toward the row of cars. "I was just saying..." he grumbled. Frankie took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and silently counted to himself. Opening his eyes again, he was greeted by Ella's sleepy face. He smiled before gently tracing the contours of her small face with his finger. "Thank you for everything. I don’t know how I could ever repay you for all you have done," Frankie vulnerably said, his voice filled with heartfelt gratitude.

And then Frankie was home. Well, not his true “Home." Not the home you both built and where you both made memories. The home where you started a family together. It wasn't the sanctuary where he felt the most happiness. But for now, his childhood bedroom with dated 90’s posters and marine carpeting would have to suffice. Until tomorrow that is when he would finally get to see you again. As Frankie meticulously arranged the last of the groceries in their designated spots, he instinctively reached for his phone and noticed a message notification from you. With a sense of anticipation, he double taps the message, eager to consume your words as if he had been starved from you and every morsel you were 0willing to give him would bring him back to life.

"Hey, hope your day went well. Just wanted to confirm that tomorrow at 10 am was still good for you? I have time for a small break, so I wanted to make sure Mrs. Hu is still available to take care of Ella on Saturday.”

Frankie's heart skipped a beat as he read your message, his eyes scanning each word with a mix of excitement and longing. In an instant, his fingers danced across the screen, his response punctuated by an urgency to reassure you of his commitment. "Still all good, and don't worry, I'm on my way to pick up Ella right now. I'll personally confirm with Mrs. Hu, so you don't have to take time off your break. Knowing you, I know you haven’t eaten anything today. Make sure you do please, mi cielo.”

As Frankie anxiously awaited your reply, stressing that he had been too forward, maybe he should apologize. The three familiar bubbles appeared, signalling your typing. His pulse quickened, his mind racing with thoughts of what you might be saying. The bubbles vanished and reappeared, teasing him with their fleeting presence. Finally, your message materialized on the screen, bringing a strange mix of relief and dread. "Perfect, thank you, Frankie. I appreciate it. Give a good smooch to Ella from me. See you tomorrow.”

Frankie's eyes lingered on your message, his mind briefly wandering to the unspoken words that you might have wanted to say to him. Did him using your nickname bother you? Did you not want Frankie to check on you anymore? Had he overstepped boundaries, slipping back too quickly into the role of the husband when maybe you weren't ready or didn't want that anymore? Tomorrow could be the day when you would let him down gently, he thought. Knowing you, you would handle it with kindness, expressing how your love for him had changed, making it clear that co-parenting was the extent of what you were willing to offer now. He wouldn’t blame you for it.

Frankie felt it in the blink of an eye—the overwhelming urge that surged through his entire being. It was like a bolt of electricity coursing through his veins, threatening to consume him. He closed his eyes tightly, took a deep breath, and silently counted to himself. 1.2.3, 3.2.1. Yet, the tension remained, refusing to be easily dismissed. He needed to ground himself, to anchor his spiralling thoughts. Five things he could smell, five things he could see, five things he could feel—Frankie went through the exercise, trying to find solace in the present moment. It provided only temporary relief.

Feeling the weight of his unease, he instinctively made his way to the top drawer of the kitchen. Opening it with a hint of roughness, he reached for an unopened bag of licorice. Grabbing a handful, he popped three pieces into his mouth, savouring the strong anise flavour as it traversed down his throat, almost burning in its intensity. It provided a fleeting sense of comfort, easing the edges of his turmoil.

Glancing at the time, Frankie realized it was almost 1 pm. He couldn't afford to delay any longer if he wanted to maintain Ella's well-established routine. You had always emphasized the importance of routine for babies since the moment you found out about the pregnancy, and Frankie wasn't about to fuck that up. So today he would spend time with Ella, give her all the love he possibly can. Then tonight, when everyone sleeps, Frankie knows he’ll dream of you, as he has for the past 4 months.

__________________________________________________________

The next day, 9h35 am

You sit in a cozy booth tucked away in the corner of a charming diner. From the moment you entered, you could feel that distinctive "Instagram vibe" floating in the air. It was clear that every aspect of the place had been meticulously arranged to appear mismatched, deliberately striving for an eclectic aesthetic to preserve the nostalgia of the old-fashioned diner. Yes, you thought to yourself, gentrification was at work here. Even a grand flower wall greeted visitors at the entrance, complete with a petite park bench—a perfect spot for capturing that perfect profile picture.

This wasn't the usual scene you and Frankie frequented. He was always camera-shy, and you weren't particularly inclined toward social media. Nonetheless, you sought out this neutral ground, guided by the Google reviews that promised private booths—a perfect setting for the long-overdue discussion with your husband.

You scan the surroundings, taking in the vintage posters and old photographs adorning the walls. The mismatched furniture and worn-out booths in shades of blues and oranges catch your attention, loud but not too overwhelming. It's like magic, this hipster vibe, you think. You try to catch a glimpse of the menu on the blackboard near the counter, but since you requested the quietest booth, sacrificing the view makes sense.

You always order the same thing anyway: a large latte with almond milk if they have it, with a touch of hazelnut. Frankie, on the other hand, goes for a black Americano with five shots of espresso, like the maniac he is. He would often playfully tease you about your choice, mocking that it wasn't "real coffee" if it needed to be drowned in milk and sugar. In response, you would scrunch your nose, adopting a faux haughty tone, and retort, "I don’t take food advice from someone who considers beer as its own food group” Like clockwork, Frankie would seize you, pulling you close, and plant a passionate kiss on your lips, whispering, "Sweet, just like you, my love."

A rush of nostalgia washes over you as you close your eyes, relishing the memory. Glancing at your watch, you note the time: 9:40. Knowing Frankie's punctuality, he would be arriving any moment now. In your shared understanding, being 15 minutes early was on time, being on time was considered late, and the mere thought of being late was inconceivable.

As you anxiously fold napkins into little origami birds, the distinct voice of your husband reaches your ears, engaging in conversation with the barista at the counter. "One Americano, five shots, and one large latte with almond milk and three pumps of hazelnut," he orders. Your head twists instinctively in the direction of the sound, and in that moment, your eyes lock with Frankie's. It's as if time had stalled, and Frankie, looking like his namesake, is like a fish out of water. The sight of you completely disorients him, leaving him breathless as if the wind has been knocked out of his lungs. Or rather, the water from his gills.

You fare no better. Seeing Frankie like this, looking so good—better than you've seen him in some time—sends a shot straight to your heart. You're happy to see him looking so well, but at the same time, a twinge inside whispers meanly in your ears, "You couldn't help him get himself here. You don't deserve Frankie like this; he deserves better than the scraps you can offer. He'd only stay for Ella, anyway." The voices are harsh, leaving you on unsteady ground.

You look down at the table, trying to silence the voice. "He remembers my coffee order. That ought to mean something," you think to yourself. The voice let’s out a cruel chuckle as if to say, "Sure, keep telling yourself that." Now, it resembles your mother's voice, and you shake your head to rid yourself of the thought. You don't want to have a complete meltdown in the coffee shop on the very first day you get to see your husband again. You already feel bad enough that you couldn't be there when he left rehab. "What kind of wife am I?" Your heart breaks. "A shitty one," your mother's voice answers with fake saccharine sweetness.

After composing yourself, you raise your eyes again toward Frankie, who seems frozen in front of you. The torment of seeing him so close, yet still out of reach after four long months, feels like a form of exquisite torture. Your hands weakly wave in his direction, accompanied by a shy smile. Shyness—an unfamiliar feeling when it comes to Frankie; in fact, it's quite the opposite of the easiness that marked even the beginning of your relationship. Frankie always felt like your home, and to feel so uncomfortable with yourself is a feeling you are rather unused to having with your husband.

After enduring a couple of excruciating minutes, Frankie finally approaches you, skillfully balancing a tray with your two drinks and two muffins. A smile escapes your lips, appreciating Frankie's thoughtfulness once again. He places the tray on the table with a resounding thump, causing the dark liquid of his Americano to threaten an escape from the oversized mug. Frankie's face flushes with a cute red hue as he stammers awkwardly, "I got you your usual coffee. I figured you wouldn't stop loving hazelnut in your coffee in 4 months." Regret etches itself onto his face, and he continues, "Not that there would be anything wrong with that. You can change your mind. You can get what you..." His words trail off as self-doubt seeps in, "I should have asked. I shouldn't have just assumed. I can go back and order something else..."

"Frankie!" The sound of your voice interrupts his rambling. "Hazelnut is great, as I always tell you. It's the..." Before you can finish your sentence, Frankie jumps in, completing it with a small smile, "Superior nut."

"I also got a blueberry and a carrot muffin. You can take whichever you want," he offers. You return the smile, playfully teasing, "I know for a fact you want that blueberry muffin, Francisco Morales." You look back at Frankie with a wide grin, continuing, "It’s almost as if you knew that carrot is my favourite, so I’d leave blueberry for you." Frankie’s answer is his signature sheepish smile as he plucks the blueberry one from the tray and dugs into his muffin. You do the same, meticulously separating the top of the muffin from its bottom and creating little nibbles of carrot goodness.

After a beat, you kindly offer, "You look good, Frankie. Really good, actually. I'm genuinely glad to see you looking so well." Frankie's smile widens to the point where it could blind you. "Thank you," he says with gratitude. "I've been working really hard, but I think it paid off you know. I do feel better.” Frankie stops, chewing his lips as if he thinking what to say next, “I won't lie to you; rehab was really hard, one of the hardest things I’ve done. And it's still challenging, there are days that seem insurmountable. But at least now, I understand what I was doing wrong— not seeking help, being stubborn, thinking I could handle everything on my own." As he speaks, he places his hand on top of yours, which rests on the side of the table. "Not talking to you will always be my biggest regret.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you feel your palm growing clammy under his touch. Yet, you resist the urge to pull away, aware that it might be the wiser choice. Frankie has just opened the door to start talking about everything that has transpired in the last couple of months and everything that lies ahead in the coming years. But you're uncertain if you're ready for that conversation. Once you start talking, it becomes undeniably real. The decisions you make today will shape the future for you, Frankie, and Ella. The weight of that responsibility bears down on you, leaving you feeling both anxious and overwhelmed. The room becomes smaller and smaller as if the walls are closing down on you.

You withdraw your hand, trying to alleviate the pressure and make a show of grabbing your coffee, taking a big gulp to buy yourself a moment of respite. Frankie's expression turns disappointed, but you're unsure of what to do next. The silence hangs in the air, heavy with unspoken words and unaddressed emotions.

"I saw the new plush toy when I picked up Ella from Mrs. Hu yesterday. She seemed to love the unicorn. Thank you," you offer, attempting to break the tension. Frankie's smile flickers back, albeit weaker this time. "I wasn't sure if it was okay, but I wanted to get her something nice. I've missed her so much.”

"You're Ella's father, Frankie. Of course, it's okay for you to buy her things. She loves you," you reassure him, trying to offer some comfort amidst the complexity of your feelings. "I love her too. And I love you, mi cielo. I'm so, so sorry about everything. There aren't enough lifetimes for me to show you how deeply sorry I am for all that I’ve done. For everything that I didn’t do. But I am so sorry, and I intend to make up for it every day for the rest of our lives," Frankie earnestly declares.

You chew on your lip, your thoughts racing as you struggle to find the right words. It's time to confront the truth, to express the raw emotions that have been swirling within you. "I don't need you to make up for it, Frankie. I needed you to... I wanted... I don't know how to say it," you confess, your voice raw and vulnerable.

Frankie's expression shifts, a mixture of guilt and bitterness. "You needed your husband not to be a major fuck-up. You don't have to pretend, I know," he admits, his voice laced with a hint of self-disgust. "I'm trying so hard, mi cielo. I want to be the man you need me to be. I want to be the husband you deserve. The father Ella deserves.” “Frankie…”

"No, please, mi cielo, please. I need to say this," Frankie implores, his voice filled with urgency. He takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before continuing, "I've been doing a lot of talking in group therapy, but I've also been listening. I was trying to understand where I went wrong if there was something I could have done different. And there were many things, but I've realized that the drugs, they weren't the actual problem. They were more like a symptom of the real problem; my therapist helped me understand that they were more like a physical manifestation of what was wrong deep inside me. Taking drugs was my way of externalizing all the pain and turmoil that I was feeling i within. In a twisted way, I never truly believed that I deserved you or Ella, and maybe a part of me wanted to sabotage the good things in my life. I don't know. I don't want to lie to you and tell you that I'm completely cured, that I won't ever feel the urge to do reckless things when life becomes overwhelming. But I don't want to be that man anymore. I want to change.”

Frankie's words hang in the air, heavy with honesty and vulnerability. He looks into your eyes, his gaze filled with a mix of remorse and hope.

"I want to tell you why I feel this way," Frankie continues, his voice filled with conviction. "I want to share with you what I’ve gone through, I see how unfair I was to you by shutting you out of this large part of me. I want to open it to you and show you everything, the good, the bad the ugly. I mean, only if you still see yourself doing so sown the line.

You could see the sincerity etched on his face, the genuine desire to make amends and rebuild what was broken. His words resonated deep within you, stirring a mix of emotions.

"I know, Frankie. It's just... It's just that," you said, exhaling audibly and averting your gaze to the side, trying to collect your thoughts. "You know it's not that simple." As you settled your eyes back on Frankie, his face displayed a mix of understanding and devastation, realizing the weight of your words.

"So much has happened, and I don't want to rush into anything," you continued, your voice tinged with hesitation. "Perhaps we could keep the current dynamic, for now, allowing things to unfold a bit more slowly. With work calming down maybe we could take small steps towards building a stronger trust, maybe we could have dinner together as a trio a few times a week? I still want you to spend time with Ella as much as you want, but I also need to sort out my own thoughts and emotions before moving forward.”

A deep sigh escapes your lips as you continue, your voice trembling with vulnerability. "I know it might seem selfish, Frankie, but you really hurt me." Unable to contain your emotions any longer, a sob escaped, your resolve weakened by the pain. "You hurt me deeply, and now, I'm left questioning whether I can truly trust you." The tears wells up, despite your best efforts to hold them back, betraying the depth of your hurt and confusion.

Frankie's leg begins to bounce restlessly as he absorbs your words. "Mi cielo..." he murmurs softly, his voice filled with a mix of concern and longing.

"Look, Frankie, I'm not saying that I don't want us to find our way back to each other," you start, trying to articulate your thoughts as clearly as possible. "I just... I don't know what I want. I thought I would have it all figured out by the time you left the center, but it feels like I'm still as lost as the day I found you on that couch after you got busted. It's like I've been living in this constant haze, and now that you're here and you want to open up and work on us and our family, I can't help but feel overwhelmed with fear. So, so scared."

Your voice trembles with vulnerability as you continue, bearing your deepest concerns. "I'm afraid that history will repeat itself. I'm scared of ending up like my mother—bitter, angry, and becoming a bad mom to Ella. The thought terrifies me." Taking a deep breath, you fight to steady your racing heart. "Frankie, I don't know exactly what I want right now, but I do know that I want to do what's best for Ella. She deserves a loving and stable environment, and I need to ensure I can provide that."

Frankie looks down at his hand, his fingers fidgeting nervously, and swallows with difficulty. His Adam's apple bobbing harshly against his skin. "I... I understand," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. Closing his eyes momentarily, he musters the courage to ask the question that weighs heavily on his mind.

"Can I... Can I ask you something?" Frankie's voice wavers as he seeks your permission. "Of course, you can ask me anything," you reply, your tone filled with reassurance.

"Thanks, it's part of my new 'communication policy.' I'm trying to make my wants heard and all that," Frankie says, passing his hand across the nape of his neck in a nervous gesture. "If something comes up at home... you... Are you going to call me to fix it? I mean, you could call me at like 3 am, and I would rush home, you know that right?"

Looking at Frankie, a mix of uncertainty and bewilderment on your face, you respond, "Yes, of course, Frankie. I will always call you if something comes up. Why are you asking that?" Frankie's expression shifts to one of shame, and a vibrant shade of pink tinged the tip of his nose.

"I just... argh! You're going to think it's so stupid. It's just... I saw the video," Frankie confesses, his voice laden with vulnerability. Perplex, you ask, "What video?"

Unsure if you could be any more confused, Frankie explains, "The video with Ella and Benny. Will told me that Ben was there to fix the fan in the bathroom. And he was there the first time Ella crawled. It's stupid, I know. Benny is like a brother, and I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt me like that. But I felt so insecure and inadequate when I saw the video. I was in rehab, unable to help myself, while Benny was being the man of the house for you and Ella, and..."

Feeling a surge of empathy and understanding, you reach out to him, placing your hand on top of his and squeezing tightly. "Whatever happens, Frankie, you are Estrella's father, and nothing will ever change that. There is no one else that Ella loves more than her papa, you know." As you speak, Frankie let out a small scoff, doubting the truth of your words.

"No, no, no. It's true. I wouldn't lie to you about that," you affirm, looking into his eyes with sincerity. "Do you know why Ella started to crawl that day? It's because of you, Frankie." His gaze fills with uncertainty, Frankie asks, "What do you mean? I wasn't even there."

"No, you weren't physically there, but I played the voice recording you made every day for Ella. And while I was helping Benny remove the old fan, I guess the recording stopped. Ella just wanted to hear more stories from her papa. She was crawling toward you, Frankie."

Frankie's emotions overflow at your words, and he can’t contain his response any longer. "I can't... I thought... My god, what did I think?!" His voice cracks with anguish as tears stream down his face, making him appear years younger, vulnerable like a child seeking reassurance. "I would never think that you... It's just me, I am the problem, and... Ella was crawling because of me?"

You nod, your voice filled with tenderness. "Yeah, she was. Because she loves you, Frankie. You never have to worry about that."

Frankie's tears continue to flow, but there was a glimmer of relief in his eyes. "It's all I've ever wanted, being worthy of her, being worthy of you and your love," he confessed, baring his heart.

"Frankie..." you began, but he interrupts, "You don't have to say anything. It's okay," Frankie reassures you, a small smile gracing his face. "I'm just so glad I got to see you today, to talk. It was a long time coming."

"Yeah," you admit, your own smile forming. "I like this “open communication Frankie”. Do you know if he is planning on hanging around?”

Frankie lets out a laugh, the sound carrying a sense of newfound hope. "Oh yeah, him and “emotionally healing Frankie” are planning on settling down around here for a long time."

Your smile widens, warmth spreading through your heart. "I'm so glad you're better, and I am so glad you are home, Frankie."

"Me too, mi cielo. Me too."

________________________________________________________

That same night

As you settle in the comfort of your bed, a soft glow from the bedside lamp casting a warm ambiance, your eyes fix on Ella peacefully slumbering in the crib stationed at the foot of your bed. The events of earlier in the day dance vividly in your mind, refusing to release their grip on your thoughts.

The memory of Frankie's face haunts you—the subtle but unmistakable disappointment he tried to conceal when you mustered the courage to confess that you needed more time. The weight of that moment bears down on you, leaving you unsure. You can’t help but question yourself, wondering how much pain your hesitations were causing him. How much pain it was causing you. The flood of confusion and doubt was starting to overwhelm you.

As you lay there, the rhythmic rise and fall of Ella's chest serving as a soothing lullaby, you realize that love was a delicate dance. It required patience, understanding, and forgiveness. And in that dance, you and Frankie had stumbled, fumbling through the steps, yet you always found the strength to hold each other up. Were you holding him right now though? Was your dance so out of step that you couldn’t catch each other anymore?

You groan and roll over in bed, hoping that sleep would bring you some clarity. However, as soon as you close your eyes, you open them again and see the clock glaring back at you, displaying the time as 9:45 pm. Instantly filled with urgency, you leap out of bed like a woman possessed, making sure not to wake baby Ella. You hurry over to the small desk on the other side of the room, where you keep important papers. Frankie had also used this desk as a workspace sometimes when he didn’t want to bother you while you were making dinner. You could almost see him, sitting on the small chair, dwarfing the desk with his large frame and checking with various weather stations around the county if flying would be possible in the upcoming days. Those were the good days, you think to yourself, simple yet you would give anything to go back to them. You reach the desk in less than 3 strides, and you hastily pull open the top drawer. You retrieve Frankie's letter that had been sitting there, untouched, for the past four months. You had been avoiding it, trying not to think about it, but now the pull was too strong. Clutching the letter close to your chest, your hands trembling, you bring it back to bed. You turn on the bedside lamp, setting it to its lowest brightness, casting a soft golden glow in the room—enough light for you to read but not disturb Ella's sleep.

You stared at the envelope as if it had the power to scorch your fingertips, fully aware that its contents very well could. Gritting your teeth, you tear through the envelope, taking out the piece of paper adorned with Frankie's handwriting. It lay before you, an expansive canvas etched with the raw emotions of his pen. Inhaling deeply, you brace yourself and commence reading, finally ready to confront whatever lay within those written words.

Mi Cielo,

I'm trembling as I pen these words to you. Tomorrow, I am finally taking your advice from months ago and I am going to check myself into rehab. It has become evident that one truth remains steadfast in our marriage: you are always right, mi corazón.

Depending on when you read this, I might be in rehab or have already completed my time away from you. Perhaps I am even at your side right now! Reading these words together with you, cringing behind your shoulder. If that is the case, let me warn my future self: you had better treat her well, pendejo. Do not repeat the same foolish mistakes I made.

You burst into laughter, the sound echoing in the room, at the same time Ella’s squeal rings out from her crib. Holding your breath momentarily, you listen for any more sounds, but the silence reassures you. Letting out a sigh of relief, you turn your attention back to Frankie's letter.

During these past five days since I left our home, I have been replaying our life together in my mind. Every time, I am confronted with how much I fell short of being the person you deserved. If I could turn back time to those moments when you looked at me with your caring eyes, asking if something was wrong and how you could help, I would be honest with you. I would not hide the nightmares that haunt me, the overwhelming feeling I get from the sound of a garbage truck, or the fact that I am not okay when I pretend to be. Mi Cielo, I am sorry to admit that you have married a weak man, and for that, I apologize.

Apologies are just the beginning; words alone cannot fix everything. That is why I am going to rehab—to become the man you and Ella deserve, and because I want to improve myself too. I have realized that I have forgotten what it truly means to be alive. For too long, I have merely existed, following orders and going through the motions of life. Now that I have the freedom to make my own choices, it is as if I have forgotten how to do so. I need to learn and grow. I am scared, mi cielo. The thought of being away from you and our little Estrellita makes me feel sick. But I know it is the right thing to do, even if it tears me apart to leave you and our baby.

I will put in the work, and when I return to you, my love, you will never be alone again. I will be there by your side, committed to building the life we once dreamed of. Do you remember those letters you sent me while I was overseas? You painted a picture of calm evenings in our backyard, summer getaways to a lakeside chalet with our friends, and long lazy weekends in bed—a simple and perfect life. That is what I desire, mi cielo.

I lost my way because I could not face the man I had become, a man I did not want to be for you. Despite my intentions to spare you from pain, I ended up causing you so much hurt—the very thing I swore I would never do. I became lost, but now I am determined to find my path again. And when I rediscover my true self, I will catch up to you, embracing you in my arms, and we will walk the rest of our lives together. Side by side.

No matter what lies ahead, mi cielo, know that you are my everything.

Te amo, mi cielo, and I will see you sooner than you think. The day I see you again, I plan to shower you with love until my last breath. Every passing moment intensifies the yearning within me to hold you in my arms once more, to show you the man I have discovered within myself. I love you and will keep on loving you from afar.

Yours forever,

Frankie

Your body trembles involuntarily, tears cascading down and staining the letter in your grasp. Emotions surge through you, overwhelming and dizzying. The relentless question echoes in your mind: Why must everything be so tangled and convoluted? In your heart, you know the truth—you love Frankie, and he loves you. It was the one thing that has always remained steadfast, this bond between you and Frankie that has weathered many storms and endured even more hardships, but which remains there to this day. Maybe it is more delicate today, more tattered, and fragile, but it exists still, the letter and Frankie’s efforts are proof of that. You can feel it in your bones. Shouldn't that love be sufficient? It could be, you think. You sprint out of bed and leave the bedroom, grabbing your phone that was resting on the table next to your bed.

Urgently, you bolt out of bed and hastily exit the bedroom, snatching your phone from the nearby table. As you hurriedly make your way to the kitchen, your fingers dial a familiar number, and you anxiously await the response on the other end. Finally, a voice answers, "Hello?"

"Hey, Will. I'm sorry to disturb you at this late hour," you say, your words tinged with nervous excitement. "Do you think you could come over and watch Ella for an hour or two? There's something I need to take care of and it can’t wait for the morning."

_______________________________________________

Frankie pours a splash of soy milk into his bowl filled with honey-nut Cheerios. Soy milk isn't his preferred choice due to its texture, but his mother has fully embraced the diary-free way of life apparently. He isn't particularly fond of Cheerios either; it's been years since he last had them. Yet, he hopes that eating something familiar will bring a sense of comfort and help ease his frayed nerves.

Frankie lets out a weary sigh, realizing the need to stop dwelling on what transpired between you both earlier. As he had anticipated, you handled the situation with kindness, even offering apologies when there was no need. His therapist's words echoed in his mind—you needed time, and that was perfectly all right. He knows that not everything could always align with his timeline. The important thing was that he would still have the opportunity to see you and spend time with Ella. Nothing was truly lost, at least not yet.

With a renewed sense of determination, Frankie reminds himself to stay positive and walk alongside you on this journey you are undertaking. Pushing for a hasty decision would only impede both of you in the long run. Today, Frankie recognizes the significance of establishing his own boundaries and he must now respect yours. He's committed to doing so, honouring your need for space and allowing the necessary time for decisions to be made. Together, you'll navigate this path, supporting one another every step of the way.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Frankie hastily finishes the last spoonful of Cheerios, his gaze shifting towards the oven clock: 10:25? It seems late for someone to be arriving at the house. Especially unannounced. Aware that his mother is already asleep due to her early morning work schedule, Frankie hesitates to disturb her. Could he have forgotten something with Pope or Will? Maybe Benny needed to talk to him; he had been neglecting their friendship since his return from rehab, and he needed to make amends for that. He reminds himself that his own insecurities shouldn't hinder the love he holds for his old friend. Frankie makes his way to the front of the house and opens the door, “A bit late for knocking on people’s ….”

However, the words catch in his throat as Frankie beholds the sight before him. There you stand, clad in his oversized shirt that engulfs you in a sea of fabric, paired with small black shorts. It tugs at his heartstrings. "Mi cielo... What are you doing here? Is everything alright, did something happen? Where is Ella?" he exclaims, a mixture of surprise and concern etching across his face.

“Ella is with Will, at home.” you answer “With Will?! But why…”

"I read your letter," you say with apprehension. Frankie can feel his heart racing, pounding in his chest, as he braces himself for your words. "Mi cielo, that letter..."

"No, please. Now, I want to talk. Please let me, Frankie," you interrupt, pleading for your chance to speak. Frankie nods fervently, allowing you to continue.

"For so long, I've been consumed with worry for you, Frankie. I saw that you were suffering, but I couldn't reach you because you never let me in. It made me so angry and hurt. And I know it may sound selfish, but your struggles with addiction felt like a reflection of my failure as a wife. But now I understand that it's not the case. I could never have helped you unless you wanted to help yourself. And you have, Frankie, and I am incredibly proud of you.”

Your voice quivers with emotion as you confess all the thoughts that have lived in your mind these past months. "I know that our paths have been diverging for a while, but I still love you. I will always love you. There hasn't been anyone else I've loved as deeply as I love you, Frankie. Since that night at the bar, I knew you were the one for me. And I know it can’t be that easy, even if I want it to be. If love could cure all wounds, we wouldn’t be there right now. And I know that I don’t want things to go back to how it was before because it wasn’t right for us. The non-talking, the avoidance, the walking on eggshells. It can’t go on like before Frankie, if we do this, I want us to grow together, I want us to be on this journey together, as long as you promise to be with me, with all your being then I want to be with you. I want us to try together, to really try - the both of us.”

"Those four months without you, Frankie were like living in my own personal hell. I can't bear the thought of spending any more time apart than necessary," you express, your voice trembling with raw emotion. "I'm not ready for you to come back and sleep in our room just yet, but what if we set up a bed in the nursery? We can take it slow, see how it feels, and go from there. The important thing is that we do it together. You always tell me that I am your sky, and Ella is your precious little star, but, Frankie, you are my sun. Despite the clouds that have overshadowed us, I need to have my sun back in my life.”

You take a deep breath, your eyes locking with Frankie's. A broad grin spreads across his face, and he gently says, "Come here, mi cielo." Without hesitation, you launch yourself into his open arms, seeking solace in his warm embrace. Soft sobs escape your lips as Frankie holds you tightly, nuzzling the top of your head. It feels like a long-awaited reunion, a return to the safety and love that only his embrace can provide. In this moment, you realize how deeply you missed him and how irreplaceable he is in your life.

"I'll sleep on the floor in the bathroom, mi cielo, if that means I get to be with you and Ella again," Frankie says earnestly, his words filled with devotion.

You let out a snort, snuggling even closer to him. "No need to be dramatic, the nursery will be more than enough," you reply, a mix of amusement and relief washing over you. Frankie smiles, his lips pressing against your hair as he hums softly.

"We'll take it one day at a time, all right?" you suggest, your voice filled with a blend of hope and love, as you lean into Frankie's embrace.

"Yes, mi Cielo, one day at a time," Frankie affirms softly, his voice tinged with tenderness. His arms encircle you tighter, refusing to let you slip away. In that moment, you can feel the strength of his commitment, his quiet dedication to rebuilding what was broken. To mend the love of your little family.

As you both stand there, wrapped in each other's arms, the weight of the moment crashes on you. It's not about going back to how things were before; it's about forging a new path together. The hardships you've faced have reshaped both of you, moulding you into stronger individuals. Now, it's time to rebuild your love, piece by piece.

One day at a time, you will rebuild, and hand in hand, you will mend the broken pieces of yourselves back together again. In your heart, you know that it will be enough because together you are the better part of yourselves. For what is the sky without its sun? The sun's gentle rays bring warmth and beauty, and Frankie was always able to illuminate your life, filling it with love, joy, and meaning. And what is the sun without its sky? Just as the sky embraces the sun, you, like the sky, are Frankie's shelter and support. Your love and presence create the foundation for his warmth, his reason to illuminate the world. Together, you know that you can weather any storm and chase all the clouds away.

You love Frankie and he loves you, and for tonight as he holds you close in his arms that you have missed so much, that is enough. The rest will come one day at a time.

Epilogue

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