#frankys secret santa

[animelover20]

I got Rayleigh and honestly I think fate was on my side for once,we need more of this man and I love him.

a/n:this is before Roger died and also I'm sorry I forgot I had to write this and I was sick,this is very very late and I apologise but anyway this is for @cyborg-franky Secret Santa Mini Event

° What I got him: a pop up book card as a joke that has a nice little message in the book which reads. "Nice glasses blondie,try not to loose them when you get your gift." what's the actual gift? A version of the Oro Jackson with the waves surrounding it,it is only a bit smaller than being life sized but the best part about is if you look closely there are mini versions of the crew on it. If you look even closer the mini figures of Rayleigh and myself are basically hugging but they're both holding one half of a heart that if you press a small button on it the crew move,dance and even cheer but well the mini figures for me and rayleigh however start hugging and swaying together with the dancing waves surrounding the ship. While doing so they are holding out their half of the heart making the heart complete

° relationship with him: platonic but they both have feelings for each other. Which is why the mini figures are holding a heart as a confession. After the gift was exchanged it was romantic

° how's it wrapped: it's basically a box inside of a box but the bigger one is sorta wrapped like a Christmas present and the smaller one has a mechanism to open it,complicated but not extremely.

I'm so sorry😭 ik it's June and this was due in December I'm so sorry there was so much stuff going on and writers block. I hope this was worth the wait🙏 and sorry that it's a bit short.

[aceofspadille]

For the Secret Santa event by @cyborg-franky (thank you for the event!)

I got Law. I was a bit nervous about being his Secret Santa, yet excited. He is my comfort person, so I'd like to make him feel loved as much as I can, making his life as comfortable and peaceful as it could.

This year, I'll get him a sleeping kit gift box in a polar bear shape. The presents are underneath the Christmas tree in the Polar Tang that the Heart Pirates had been dragging Law to decorate for Christmas. *LOL*

In the box, there would be the following items: a set of chamomile tea, a set of immortal moment tea, and a sleep spray so he could sleep better at night.

Being together for a while now, I know my man got trouble sleeping at night, so I decided to give him something that could help him tackle sleep better. Also, I recommend he has coffee 3 days a week now (more like forbade him to have more now), so he got to find something else to drink as an alternative, hence the black tea.

I'll leave a card inside drawing a small him playing with the snow and a note which reads: "For good and bad. Happy Xmas. Your Secret Santa."

I hope he likes my gift as much as he likes that I'm in his life. He deserves all the love in the world.

[cyborg-franky]

👉👈🥺 can I participate in the secret Santa event if it's not a problem?

Yes <3 I hope you have fun. Here you are!

[ashellofwhatusedtobegood]

Franky's Secret Santa Mini Event.

I got Kid, and oh-my-goodness why is fate finishing all my luck on this I've literally got an exam coming up but I'm lowkey in love with this magnet man and i'm so—

anyway, here's my honest try at it @cyborg-franky , i hope it's the format(?) you intended it to be?? I try to put what i got in my head and lay it out in words as best and as simple as i could

What I got him: a crocheted amigurumi of Killer as a joke at first. Made another amigurumi of Kid because I can't see Killer without him. It was the size of an average human's hand, and totally didn't have a hook or something so Kid could hang it up somewhere. Totally didn't have a hook.

Bribed the NewsCoo to send it to the Kid Pirates, but Nami didn't have to know that.

Relationship with him: Can this be called rivalry, or just a one-sided hatred? No one knows, but its close enough that he wouldn't actively seek out my blood. Definitely the first attempt at trying to send him gifts though.

Being an associate of the Straw Hats Pirate would apparently earn a spot to his ‘Would Punch In The Face If Got The Chance To’ list.

How it's wrapped: Gifts placed in a jack-in-the-box type box that Franky kindly designed so it'll cutely popup Killer's amigurumi first and a few seconds later would shoot out Kid's amigurumi to the nearest person.

Tune replaced to pirate's all time favourite: Bink's Sake

Wrapped very fancily; Black and red wrappers with gold ribbons. An effort made to prevent him chucking the present the second he got it.

[jolalibrary]

no need for mistletoe

frankie morales x f!reader | masterlist

summary: all of that led to this. The now. Eyes staring at him as he stands in front of you in a moss-green shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, curls not buried by a hat. “Hi.” “Hi,” you reply, before he’s ushering you in.

warnings: fluff, soft!frankie, first kisses, christmas vibes, lil’ flirting. brief mention of Frankie being a dad. wordcount: 2.6k

to @nothoughtsjustmeds - merry christmas from me, to you. you gave such amazing prompts, i tried to include as many as i could, and here it is. i hope you love this as much as i heart you.

When the cab comes to a stop, you find yourself outside of a very nice house, on a very quiet street.

Dropping your gaze down to the address on your phone, swallowing. Your nerves suddenly begin doing their thing to your gut again. Working. Gnawing at your insides as you flick your gaze back up to the number on the mailbox.

That’s when you take in the little ‘Santa Stop Here’ sign stuck into the perfectly maintained grass, the faux snow footprints which lead up to the porch and the array of twinkling lights that set this one out against all the others.

And, honestly, it’s just what you imagined from his home.

Not that it stopped the nerves from swirling, doubling up inside you—apprehension having begun to mount itself on top of worry.

Taking a deep breath, you pull out some notes, paying with a smile, before stepping out with a keep the change—and a Merry Christmas—and a slam of the cab door.

It takes everything within you not to yank the door open and get back inside. Even more not to turn and look at the driver, to not show how nervous you were.

Instead, you stare ahead. Steadying yourself as tyres crunched gravel, silence washed itself over you.

And then you were alone. No way of turning back—not without a phone call and another long wait.

Glancing around, you hover your eyes over the homes on either side of the one you’re standing outside of. Noticing the differences in how they’re dressed, how subtly was more one style and perfectionism the other.

This house looked entirely different. And, even if your fingers shook as you clutched your phone, a smile still managed to cut through. Your mind concocting images of the boys all banding together to hang lights, orders being flung—reminiscent of when they’re all attempting to train Benny (all at fucking once).

Biting down on your lip, you blow out a nervous breath—because you’re here now. No point in dwelling. You just need to walk up, rap your knuckles on the door and say hello. Simple. Easy.

Yet, it takes another minute to place one foot in front of the other. Hand stuffing your phone into your pocket as you—the heels of your boots catching on the stone path, cautious not to smudge the prints that lead the way to his front door.

It had Benny who had told you the more the merrier. But would more mean you?

You who barely knew much about them. Outside the version of them you see at the gym.

The one you had inherited, been given, had handed to you—it’s what your dad would have wanted being said when the keys—all heavy and scary—were placed in your palm. No business knowledge, just given the tip to be good to the regulars—the regulars mainly being Benny, his brother and his friend.

It had begun with letting him in at odd hours. Then you’d gotten Will’s number, for when he was in town, for when he needed access to the gym to help his brother train.

Then, when their visits became more routine, that’s when you began staying later to do “admin”—code for wanting to be around just in case.

The just-in-case is the reason half your wardrobe is dumped on your bed and your nerves are frantic from the cab ride over.

Teeth nipping at your lip, you second-guess the bottle in your hand—the little paper bag of treats you’d managed to grab before the store closed. You begin to re-question your outfit, whether you were over or underdressed, whether he’d be mad that his friend just invited you—

A flurry of thoughts, all rushing around like snow in a storm. All landing, thickening at your feet, burying you deeper and deeper in doubts and worries until you’re shrouded in light.

It’s warm, almost pearlescent as it illuminates the wooden porch you’re standing on.

It was cliche, very romance-novel the way the two of you met. Him having stepped through the gym door, lit up by sunlight, hands stuffing his t-shirt into the back of his jeans. All broad, loose curls and dark features—and a shy smile that only slowly broke out across his face.

From there it was little waves. Your eyes linger on his fingers, the length, the way they appear worn, weathered—and sometimes accompanied by a band-aid, sometimes close to skin colour and others with cartoons on.

It’s a while until names are shared and exchanged. Until you can put together an idea of the man who always wears a sun-scorched hat and clothing from a colour palette you’ve named him.

Then, you learn little things. That he likes listening to vinyls, that he has a son, that he likes the idea of working out but prefers to keep fit by building things.

What kind of things? Anything. Anything? Anything.

It’s how the conversation first began when he’d offered to build you a bookcase. A small one—easily tucked away behind the counter you’re often perched at and he’s often leaning against. Pointing out that he always sees you with a book, and that you must have a pile of them at your feet.

That’s when you learned he was astute, too.

All of that led to this. The now.

Eyes staring at him as he stands in front of you in a moss-green shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, curls not buried by a hat.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you reply, before he’s ushering you in.

You hear the laughter from another room before the door is closed. Frankie hovers, taking the wine and the paper bag as you slide off your coat. His face flushed, eyes staring at you before you watch him swallow, mouth opening, but you beat him to it—

“Thank you… for not minding that Benny invited me over.”

Nodding, he smiles. “Well. I asked him to invite you.”

“Oh?”

Looking at his feet, he smiles—soft, more sly. “M’really glad you could make it.”

"Well, Merry Christmas Eve?"

Licking his lips, he seems to swallow. "Merry Christmas Eve."

There’s something intimate about photographs, especially in frames dotted around a home.

A sea of memories displayed, the stories there, but not quite heard. Not until someone is willing to share them, to animate the frame and allow it to make sense.

Your fingers trace the air close to them, lingering on unworried smiles, spotting the beginning signs of the lines you’ve come to admire.

In your wildest fantasies, you never thought you’d be here. Not as the hours ticked on, not even when the brothers bid their goodbyes, and you suggested going with them.

You don’t have to. No? No.

So you didn’t. Hovering in the living room as Frankie bids them goodbye. You hear the sounds of claps on the back, and boisterous goodbyes quickly hushed before they exchange plans for tomorrow. You’re distantly aware the door closes, and that there are approaching footsteps, but you don’t drag your eyes from the set of photos on the shelves.

“I’m sorry for… them.”

Grinning, you sip from your glass. “You don’t have to. I like them.”

Nodding, Frankie folds his arms, leaning in the doorway, your fingers still ever so close to one of the photo frames—one of five men, him in the middle, three out of the five recognised, the other two a mystery.

“Your son is adorable,” you say, glancing up at him, finding his eyes creasing as a grin adorns his face. “He has your smile.”

Letting the words wash over him, you take another sip, letting the taste coat your tongue, and smother over your bottom lip—all the while holding his gaze. The one unmoving, all unwilling to tear itself away from yours. It charges the air, and makes it vibrate. Forces the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up, and knots something in your stomach. All as heat blooms across the rest of you, up your neck, smearing itself across your chest.

Because he’s given you this stare a few times. But, never for this long.

Not this constantly, either.

It hasn’t ever made your throat feel this dry, not able to quench it even as you pour more liquid down it; it hasn’t ever quite made your ears burn, always just cheeks.

“You want to see my garden?” Narrowing your eyes, you watch him walk backwards, heading to his coat hook. “Heard you can see a lot of stars tonight.”

Smiling, you nod. Simple, fucking easily. Taking the jumper outstretched to you—fingers brushing over his, just lightly, a spark of something streaming up your wrist as his lips part.

A part of you, one full of longing and need, hopes he felt it too—wishing for it. More so, as you pull his jumper over your head, trying not to noticeably inhale as the warmth settles on your skin, and finds a home in your bones. You’re coated in him, both physically in his clothing and his scent. The one which lingers when he leaves your desk and you have always wished to bottle.

“C’mon,” he whispers, a twinge of nervousness to his tone.

So you do follow. Jacket under his arm as he grabs two bottles from the side—your hand placing your glass down, twirling the ends of his jumper around your fingers, letting him lead the way out, his foot propping open the door so you can head out first.

And he’s not wrong.

The sky is littered with them, soft twinkles thousands of miles away, looking down on the two of you as your warm breath makes spirals appear in front of you—slow wisps of steam that carry themselves to the few clouds floating past.

“You doing much tomorrow?”

You don’t know why you ask it, cringing inwardly. Because tomorrow is the twenty-fifth, and it’s obvious, even more so the more you think about it, that he’ll have his son. Likely to be somewhere for dinner from the conversation overheard.

Frankie steps closer, shoulder practically close to yours, recalling what you’d overheard, layering more information—sharing how he’ll pick his son up at lunchtime, bring him back to open presents, and then they’ll be off to Benny’s. He goes overboard, surprise, surprise.

Your laugh fills the air, somehow unsurprised until Frankie asks you what you’re doing.

“Um, well. I’m usually alone for Christmas—well, except for the other gym goers who also hate the holidays.”

Snorting, Frankie slides the jacket in his hand around your shoulders. Your eyes glance from the swings and slide to meet his gaze.

Iit’s warm when you do. All warm cocoa, digging into you, soaking you in something you’re trying to translate. Whatever it is, it makes your heart flutter in your chest, forces heat to rise up your neck again—kissing your cheeks, your ears.

“You should…” his hand rises, rubbing the back of his neck as he sighs. “Shouldn’t be alone.”

Rolling your lips, you gaze back over his garden—the small space you imagine only looks this good because of him. A small paradise, perfectly painted. Lit up by more strung lights and little lanterns plunged into different flowerbeds.

You smile at the swingset—the one made from mismatched wood. Your thoughts concoct an image of him building it, brushing his curls back from his forehead.

“You look really pretty,” he whispers.

And the words make your head turn, tentative, wary.

“Wish there was mistletoe.”

Your heart pounds and it distils the nerves. You don’t have to force it, it bleeds naturally over your lips—a smile which smudges over your face, and makes your hand place your bottle down on the ledge.

It’s quiet—oh, so quiet—as you turn to face him fully. Body turned, heart thundering in your chest, all suddenly empowered, awake, bold.

The thrum of one chance dancing with the blood in your veins.

“You don’t… you don’t need mistletoe, Frankie.”

“No?”

Shaking your head, you let out a breath.

Letting it fog the air, swirling itself out into the night as you clutch his jacket around your shoulders, watching him move.

It’s breathless the way he says okay. It’s swallowed by the soft slant of his mouth over yours. It’s instant, the way warmth spreads out through you. Made all the more powerful by accompanying fairy-light touches to your skin, allowing your body to curl into him.

Then, it deepens, your lips finding his with more purpose, more intention. His palms cup your cheeks, and like his gaze, his mouth is like fire. It rushes into your mouth, filling your chest and fanning its way out to your outer edges. It’s dizzying, magical—almost worthy of a foot rising off the ground or floating away into the clouds.

Your hands clutch at his shirt, balling it in your fingers as it turns messy, needy—all heated and desperate.

Then, you both part. Barely a slither of space between both your faces, his eyes opening, smothering you in something which makes a tangled coil of need tighten inside of you.

“Wanted to do that for a while,” he whispers, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

“I’ve wanted you to do that for a while.”

His fingers lightly skate over your cheek, thumb drawing light circles on your chin.

“You got any plans for the 27th?”

Shaking your head, you smile. “Just the gym.”

“Okay. I’m taking you out on our second date.”

Frowning, you begin to grin. “Second?”

Dropping his hand from your face, Frankie places a chaste kiss on your lips. One that makes you want to chase him for more, but the growing gap following it prevents you.

“Yeah, the first is me going inside, grabbing us a plate with some pizza on, and sitting under the stars. If… if that sounds okay?”

Biting your lip, you nod. “It sounds perfect.”

He grins, hand brushing over his chin as he takes a step back. Your hand digging for your phone, the screen illuminating, as you hear him pull open the back door of his place.

“Oh, and Frankie?” His eyes look over at you, wide, beautiful—a mixture of sudden worry and dread filling them. “Merry Christmas.”

Turning to flash him your phone, the minute just passing midnight, you smile—removing the fear in his eyes, making them widen, and grow.

He thinks. Ponders.

Can see it in the way his eyes narrow and a line appears between his brows. Then, the door in his hand meets the frame, and the soles of his boots hammer on the decking, before he closes the gap to you within four strides, your face in his hands, lips pressed to yours.

“A kiss from you is the best gift I could have ever have gotten,” he whispers, between stealing your breath.

Swallowing, you roll your lips—tasting the beer from his lips on your own. “And a date with you is all I wished for.”

an: i really want a pizza under the stars with frankie now

[cyborg-franky]

Marco looked at the incredibly beautifully wrapped gifts, the attention to detail, gold and blue, perfectly bouncy bows, and ribbons. He walked over to his desk, sat down and checked the tag, and saw it was indeed addressed to him.

He smiled at the neat handwriting, already having a hunch who the gift was from. Marco ripped open the wrapping paper on the smaller gift, seeing the #2 doctor cup and letting out a laugh, a grin on his face as he stood up, walking to the coffee pot with a fresh brew, pouring it into his new mug, wanting to make use of it

Yeah, he knew who this was from now. He sat down with his coffee and picked up the bigger gift, starting to unwrap it. His eyes widened when he saw the shadowbox, lots of little bits and pieces, there was wrapping paper from his, Ray, and Ace’s first x-mas together, and there were some polaroid photos of the three of them all having fun.

There was a coaster from their first Xmas meal at an island that one time. He was a sentimental man and he could feel his heart full. This was such a lovely gift and the more he stared at it the more he could see new things you’d included.

He set it up on his desk, sipping his coffee and enjoying his gifts. He was going to have to thank you for them, maybe he should send you and your husband on a nice trip…

For @cyborg-franky 's secret Santa event:

Very excited to have gotten my bestest friend Marco for secret Santa & excited to exchange gifts with him.

For Christmas I've bought him a nice shadowbox, borrowed Ray & Ace's help to take some of Marco's sentimental keepsakes from their first Christmas together, and arranged it pretty full of all the little keepsakes (like the coaster from the bar they had christmas dinner at, saved bits of wrapping paper, etc) and photos of them so that they have something lovely to remember every christmas. I've also bought him a mug that says "My 2nd favorite Doctor" as a little joke to give him before the nice present (can't replace my son even if he's my best friend. 💕)

[flimflamfranky]

my gift to @werelichen for @op-secret-santa!! i can never a good frobin prompt so here's some art and a fic! i hope you enjoy and happy holidays!!

The moon rose high in the sky, bright and alluring. Robin stared up at it through the window, upside down in her view from her pillow. Around her, the crew (her crew) slumbered soundly, beds pressed tight together. Robin couldn’t help a fond smile as she sat up, seeing Luffy half-slumped out of the top bunk, arms stretching down onto Sanji, who was gently kicking Zoro in his sleep, Chopper squished between them, while Nami spread out like a starfish on her other side, hand curled around Robin’s own.

Robin should be asleep with them, but this wasn’t the first time sleep eluded her, nor would it be the last. A restless energy settled into her, begging for the crisp, moonlit night. And while she knew none of them would mind if she woke them up to keep her company, they deserved the rest.

She slipped out silently from the sheets, gently to not disturb her friends. Yet, the moment her feet hit the ground, there was a rustle, and Zoro’s head popped up, eyes barely open. “R’bin?”

“I’m just going for a walk,” she whispered to him. “I”ll be back soon, I promise.”

Zoro yawned and then nodded, like she said a fact instead of a reassurance. “A’right.” His head flopped back down, and shuffled around, turning to curl around Chopper and smacking Sanji in the face, who sneered at the hand in his sleep.

Robin breathed out a light laugh, careful not to wake anyone else, and then stepped out the door into the night.

She didn’t have a destination in mind, yet her feet lead her to one anyway. She stopped at the top of the stairs, and looked down onto the island of scrap. The skeleton of a keel and hull was starting to form by the shore, bare now but full of promise. She was too far up to make out more, but she could just see a hint of movement and the smallest flash of blue, still hard at work.

She smiled to herself. Oh course.

She headed down into the flattened junk, keeping her eyes down and using her powers to guide her, until she could follow the sound of metal scraping on wood. It grew louder and louder as she picked her way past the sleeping bodies of the shipwrights and dismantlers. She rounded one last towering pile of wood, and finally set eyes on him properly.

Franky was working on a large hunk of wood, a circular shape starting to take form from the rough edges. Shavings littered his feet as he bent over, smoothing the wood down with even, practiced strokes. His stance was firm, his movements confident, completely in his element.

Robin paused for a moment to admire him. There was a lightness to him that hadn’t been there before, and she thought it suited him wonderfully. A smile stole across her face. It was almost startling how fond she had become of him in such a short time but she couldn’t imagine it any other way. She almost felt like she could spend the rest of the night just watching him, but his company would be much preferred, so she stepped forward.

“Franky,” she called out, as she approached.

Franky startled, the scrapper tumbling from his hands as he whipped around, valiantly trying to hide his work. “Nico Robin! What are you doing here?”

She covered her eyes with her hand. “I’m not looking,” she said, a smile in her voice.

There was a moment’s pause, and then Franky sighed in defeat. “Nah, it’s alright. Not much to look at right now.” Robin uncovered her eyes in time to see him wag a finger at her. “But don’t you go snooping! I want it to be a surprise for everyone.”

“I won’t,” she promised, coming to a stop near him. She bloomed a hand out of the wood, and handed the fallen tool back to Franky. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Franky took the tool, but then set it down, giving her curious look. “What are you doing here?” He looked up at the moon like he was surprised it wasn’t the sun. “It’s late!”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said. “I suppose I was looking for some company.”

“Aw, with me?” Franky chuckled, fiddling with the scrapper. “Did you miss me that much?”

Robin considered it. “Hmm. I suppose I did.”

Franky blinked, surprised at her genuine admission, then turned back to the wood, looking pleased. “Well, I’ll always welcome your company, Nico Robin.”

She crossed her hands, and brought over an unused stool for herself to sit on, settling a few feet away. Franky returned to his work, catching the tool on the wood and gliding it across its surface.

It was soothing, watching him. The repetitive rasp of metal cutting wood, the even wood shavings peeling up and falling gently to the ground. The crash of waves on the shore, the soft wind whistling through the abandoned ships. The movement of Franky’s arm, back and forth. It eased the restlessness inside her, bit by bit.

After a moment, Franky glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “So…how are you doing?”

That was a question Robin had become quite familiar with the past couple of days. One she still had trouble answering. Her crew had done so much for her - she owed it to them to be honest. But, at the same time, she didn’t want to worry them any further. But with Franky…it was different. He had been a steady rock during the worst day of her life.

“A little overwhelmed,” she admitted, drawing her knees closer. “So much has changed so quickly, I still don’t think it’s sunk in yet. But…” She looked up, towards the city, towards the Galley-La Company where her crew rested, safe and secure and hers. “I’m happier then I think I’ve ever been.”

Franky straightened slightly, glancing over at her as he brushed wood dust from his shoulders. “Well, that sounds like a good problem to have.”

She smiled, resting her check against her hand. “I suppose it is.”

Franky glanced at her again, looking almost…hesitant. Which seemed at odds with his brash, confident persona. She met his eyes, and raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

Franky hesitated for another moment, and then asked, “What were they like? Those scholars of yours.”

That was a question Robin had not been expecting. She opened her mouth, then closed it, as she thought back, wondering where to even begin, when Franky waved his hand through the air.

“Never mind, actually, forget about it.” He cleared his throat, looking away from her. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories, so just-”

“No! No,” Robin cut him off. “It’s aright. It’s just…been a long time since I’ve really talked about them with anyone, outside of yesterday. And, well.” She paused, and then sighed. “It’s been a while since I’ve thought about them in any context other than tragedy.”

Franky nodded, his eyes soft, tender. Understanding. He stayed silent, and Robin took a moment to look out at the ocean, the waves almost black and white under the moon, collecting herself before starting to speak.

“They were like a family to me. With my mother gone and my aunt, well. They were the only family I really had. They treated me like one of their own. They were such a caring, eccentric bunch.” She let out a soft laugh.

“Professor Clover always called them crazy old kooks when they acted up, even though he was probably the oldest, craziest kook of them all. He would make me tea with honey in between lessons and tell me about his adventures as an explorer. He saw so many wondrous things, made so many grand discoveries, and got in trouble with the Marines more times than he could count.”

“I’d bet he'd be pretty damn proud of you, then.”

“I think he would be, too. Rint would always tease him about being more of a pirate than explorer, but I don’t think he would have minded that. Not that Rint was much better. She never talked about it, but I’m pretty sure she was a pirate, when she was younger. Nothing seemed to phase her. She could drink everyone under the table and still win at poker.”

Franky glanced back into the scrapyard with an amused snort. “Heh, sounds like someone I know.”

“She would’ve liked you. She always had a taste for the wilder things. Oh, and Busshiri, you would’ve liked him. He was the carpenter of the scholars. Not a shipwright, but he knew his way around wood.”

“Sounds like my kinda guy.”

Robin nodded. “He always wore these shirts that would say bomb, boom, any explosive word you could think of. I asked him why once, and he said that he wore destruction to remember how to create. I think he made it up on the spot, though.”

Franky gasped, faux offended. “Dismissing his wise words like that! Nico Robin, you wound me, to let such a man go unappreciated in his time!”

Robin giggled at his teasing. “Roche said something like that at the time too. He was always teasing me when I got too serious. I thought it was so annoying at the time, but looking back, I think he just wanted me to enjoy being a kid. They all tried so hard to look after me…”

A surge of emotions swept through her, harsh and overwhelming, that familiar, complicated mix of grief and anger and hopelessness that plagued her for so long. She curled inward, instinctively. She forgot herself, and was that scared little girl again, forced to face the world alone, alone, alone-

“Nico Robin?”

And she was back here again, on the shore of the scrap island, the ocean heavy in the air, breathing uneven, body shivering. Franky hovered over her, hands outreached but not touching, face so openly worried, and something inside her loosened.

“Are you okay?” He asked, voice low and soft. His hand hovered closer and she leaned in, resting herself against his palm, arms looped around his wrist in the semblance of a hug.

“I’m fine,” she mumbled without thinking, so used to ignoring her hurt. Franky leveled her an unconvinced look, and Robin paused. Was she fine? Her body still shuddered slightly, but the emotions had dulled, softened, and there was a…lightness. Relief. Grief tempered by nostalgia and joy, by the reminder that she was no longer alone.

“I think I’m better than fine, actually,” she said, a smile blooming across her face. She squeezed Franky’s hand. “Thank you.”

Franky relaxed, and though she didn’t want to, she let his hand fall away, and he stepped back to lean back against the uncarved wood. She did follow him though, moving to stand next to him, crossing her arms to rest against the wood.

“You scared me there, Nico Robin,” he said, half serious, half teasing. “I get it, though. The past can be complicated.”

She tilted her head in a silent question. Franky shrugged, and then looked away, almost bashful.

“Me ‘n Iceburg…we used to be close. We fought almost all the time, but he was like a brother, ya know? And then I went and messed it all up. But when I came back, Iceburg, he was…still so mad but he missed me. He was happy to see me again, despite it all.”

Franky paused, looking back towards the partial built hull. “I’ve got a lot of good memories from back then. And they’re still good, but…they hurt now. And doin’ this now, like back then, with him…” He trailed off.

“You used to be a shipwright,” she said. That had been obvious but she can see the complicated emotions mixed up in it now - the grief and anger and almost hatred of something you still love and need so much.

“Not anymore,” Franky said, a touch defensively. “This is an exception.”

“...it suits you.”

Franky didn’t meet her gaze, eyes fixed past the shore of the small island. “Doesn’t matter. This’ll be the last one.”

She recognized what the lightness she had seen earlier was - he was happy, building ships. And that happiness scared him, like he didn’t deserve to feel it at all. That made a protective indignation rise up in her, a fierce desire to protect that precious happiness of his.

She realized that's what Luffy and the others had felt, standing on that government building, flag burning above them.

“You should come with us.”

Franky startled, whipping around to stare at her with wide eyes. “What?

Robin was startled herself. She hadn’t meant to say that aloud, but she had meant it. “Luffy is planning on asking you. To be our shipwright, that is.”

She saw it again - that mix of grief and longing and joy. He wanted that - wanted to say yes, to join them, to live his dream.

But still, he turned away. “I-I can’t,” he said, voice raw. “I owe this place too much.”

Robin felt that sharp protectiveness again, to take him anyway and make him hers, part of her crew, but she tucked that away for now.

Franky glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, “It’s your choice.”

Silence stretched between them, heavy longing and regret, but she savored it anyway. Part of her wanted to make it last forever, but her crew pulled her back just as strong. She couldn’t stay.

“If this is goodbye, then,” she started, turning toward Franky, leaning a bit forward to look up him through her lashes. “May I have a kiss to remember you by?”

Franky softened, expression incredibly fond, and he reached out, wrapping his hand around her waist and pulling her close. “For you, Nico Robin, of course.”

She smiled, and rose up on her toes, hand resting on his chest, his head dipping down until their lips met. It was soft and tender, passion nipping at the edges. The waves crashed behind them, matching their push and pull. He fit against her so perfectly, and she could imagine how perfectly he’d fit into her family too.

But that was a desire that would have to wait. She relaxed back onto her heels, pulling away just slightly, still close. She looked up at Franky, meeting his fond gaze, sad and sweet. Her hand lingered on his chest, machinery thrumming warm under her fingertips before finally pulling away, already chilled again by the night.

“I’m glad I got to know you, Nico Robin,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

“Me too, Franky,” she said. She couldn’t bring herself to say good-bye, so she ran her hand down his arm one final time, then stepped out of his embrace and walked back into the night.

~

As she slipped back into bed, next to Chopper and Zoro this time, arms wrapped around her and Luffy slipped down to snuggled into her side, still half-asleep. She ran her fingers through his hair, at his relaxed, open face, and decided she deserved to be selfish. She bent over to whisper to him.

“Franky looked so happy, building our ship.”

Luffy grinned, and she slipped her hand down to thumb at his dimples, just under his scar. “Good.”

“You won’t take no for an answer.” It was more a statement than question, because she already knew what he would say, but Luffy still huffed a laugh.

“Nope!”

Robin grinned. “Good. Now go back to sleep.”

Luffy dozed off again almost instantly. Robin settled down, wrapping her arms around him, safe and warm amongst her crew, and she slept.

[moonpaw]

@bird-pieces I was your secret santa!

franky fell asleep so robin took this chance to start modeling him with flowers lol

[misqnon]

a secret klabautermann gift for someone in a one piece server I’m in!! secret klabautermann was the alternative we came up with for secret santa hehehe 🎁

they asked for mistletoe frobin and how could I refuse

enjoy!!

[cyborg-franky]

“Good to see you again lad!” Roger said with a big grin and slapped you on the back, you almost dropped the bag as he ushered you into the house.

“Here to see Ace?” He asked and you nodded but gripped the bag tighter, you liked to hang out with Ace, you were good friends with him and well, his dad was nice, and friendly, would always burst into Ace’s room when you guys were watching movies or gaming with offers of pizza or something else.

“Um, I got you something for Christmas, just a little something..” You said and Roger blinked, looking at the bag as you handed it to him, he grinned and took it.  “Thanks!” He said with a wide grin on his face as he pulled the gift out the bag, unwrapping the very obvious bottle shape.

“Oh, this is the good stuff, thank you so much kiddo!” Roger said with a grin and knew he was going to be drinking that tonight.

Post for Secret Santa Event of @cyborg-franky ♡ ft Gol D Roger

You know that thing where you are invited to spend christmas with a friends family even if just for an hour or two to pick him up but now you kind of feel obligated to bring a little something something to be polite? Yeah thats 100% what is going on here.

This is going to be a very awkward interaction of just "Ah hey....Mr.....Roger?? Merry Christmas" before handing him a cheesy looking christmas gift bag with a messily gift wrapped bottle of rum inside

It may not be anything special but its the gesture that counts right?

[pedrorascal]

Space Sisters 2023 Secret Santa – Masterlist

We would like to thank every server member who participated in this event! 🎄

You can find all the gifts published by the participants under the cut!

Happy Holidays from the admins and mods of the Space Sisters server! 💚

(about Space Sisters || join us!)

MASTERLIST

* - Mature/Explicit work

VISUAL ART & MISC

Gifset (The Last of Us) - from @trashcora to @thetriumphantpanda

Gifset (Marcus Pike) - from @perotovar to @agentmarcuspike

Fanvideo (Din Djarin) - from @survivingandenduring to @trashcora

Graphic & Poem (Ezra, Joel Miller, Frankie Morales) - from @gasolinerainbowpuddles to @doctorliamsr

FANFICTION

Frankie Morales

no need for mistletoe - from @undercoverpena to @nothoughtsjustmeds

Jack Daniels

* Cowboys & Closeups - from @agentjackdaniels to @epicrainbowsheep

Oberyn Martell

* Reaching for the sweetest, sweetest peaches - from @psychedelic-ink to @iamasaddie

Din Djarin

No Words Needed - from @againstacecilia to @sweetercalypso

Dieter Bravo

No Way Out - from @doctorliamsr to @psychedelic-ink

* Red Herring - from @nothoughtsjustmeds to @missredherring

* Best in Show - from @covetyou to @agentjackdaniels

Marcus Pike

* The Longest Night - from @agentmarcuspike to @perotovar

the gift that keeps giving - from @thetriumphantpanda to @undercoverpena

* baby, when the lights go out - from @iamasaddie to @survivingandenduring

Joel Miller

Friendly Conversation - from @doctorliamsr to @psychedelic-ink

* Old Holiday, New Traditions - from @pascalispretty to @bluebeary-jay

the most wonderful time - from @always-andromeda to @janaispunk

Around the Tree - from @sweetercalypso to @againstacecilia

* Darlin’ just you wait till then - from @epicrainbowsheep to @gasolinerainbowpuddles

it’s the season - from @janaispunk to @pascalispretty

Wrong Until You Make It Right - from @missredherring to @covetyou

Hold me close and hold me fast - from @bluebeary-jay to @always-andromeda

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 💚

[the-blind-assassin-12]

A Little Christmas Magic

A PEDROSTORIES SECRET SANTA GIFT FIC

A/N: Huge thank you to the moderators of @pedrostories for organizing this event again! I had so much fun getting in the holiday spirit while writing this, and I cannot wait to read all of the other festive stories that others have written! This story follows along with the same Frankie/Reader pairing as a few of the other things I've written, but it can also be read as a one shot. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone who sees this!!

Gift Tag: SURPRISE @something-tofightfor - I deceived you with my decoy Joel story, because THIS was what I was actually working on. Sorry for the white lie, but I hope you like what and who I chose (you gave me some REALLY excellent choices in Joel, Frankie, Jack and Oberyn) to write about in the snow. And I hope you have the best, merriest damn Christmas ever. I love you!!

WC: 4,150

Warnings: some brief smut mentions, talking about having divorced/ separated parents

Summary: When Frankie needs a little help making Christmas special for his son, you are more than happy to step in and lend a hand. The again, you're more than happy to do just about anything for him.

As soon as he came through the door, you could tell that something was off. 

All night long, while your home had been filled with friends and family, Frankie’s smile had been constant. You saw it in his eyes and in the way the corners of them folded into crinkles when he laughed. You felt it on his lips when they found your cheek as he passed you in the kitchen. You heard it in his voice when he thanked everyone for coming. It was the first time the two of you had hosted Thanksgiving since you’d started living together, it was his year to have Ollie for the holiday, and Frankie had been undeniably happy.  

But by the time he got home from dropping Ollie back off with Tori, something had changed. What could have happened, though? He’s only been gone for twenty five minutes. 

You knew that Frankie and his ex got along well, so you doubted that they had gotten into an argument. He didn’t seem annoyed or angry. There wasn’t a scowl on his face, he hadn’t thrown his hat. If anything, you realized, he looked almost sad, his mouth downturned slightly, a sort of distance in his eyes that wasn’t there when he left. You watched him lock the door and drop his keys into the bowl on the table beside it from where you stood in the dining room, your heart clenching as you pushed the last chair back into place. Oh, Frankie, what’s wrong? 

“Hey, you.” You crossed your arms loosely and leaned against the arched doorway that separated the living room from the dining room, waiting as he stepped on the heel of one shoe to remove it before doing the same with the other, not bothering with the laces. 

He sighed, the quiet sound a confirmation that something was amiss. But as he straightened up to look at you, there was a small smile on his face. “Hey, Flamingo.” 

You huffed out a breathy laugh, your lips quirked to the side, and pushed away from the doorframe. “You know? I break my ankle one time, two years ago and…” You shook your head and rolled your eyes playfully, Frankie crossing the room to slip his hands around your waist. Yours landed on his chest, the right one sliding up his neck to twine your fingers through the curls behind his ear. “How long are you gonna call me that, hmm, Fish?” 

You already knew what his response would be, but it still sent a rush of warmth through you to hear him say it. “Forever,” he mumbled, leaving a whiskered kiss to the corner of your mouth, his fingers curling in the fabric of your shirt. “Everyone else gone?” 

“Mhmm. Pope, Yovanna, Will, and my sister all cleared out right after you. Benny and Alana just left about five minutes ago. Alana insisted on helping me get the kitchen cleaned, so she put Benny on dish duty and-” 

That earned you a small chuckle and assured you that whatever had changed Frankie’s mood wasn’t something too serious. Good. I still need to know what it is, though. “Oh, I’m sure Benjamin was thrilled about that.” 

One of your earrings had gotten flipped upside down without you noticing, and Frankie reached up to fix it. You closed your eyes and let out a hum at the brush of his thumb over the skin of your earlobe. “He didn’t seem to mind.” With a shrug you opened your eyes, and they were immediately met with his deep brown ones. “And Quinn had just fallen asleep, so they weren’t in a rush to leave because they didn’t want her to wake up as soon as they picked up the car seat. It was actually a really big help.”

“Good.” He gave you a half-smile, leaning in just long enough to press his lips to yours. “I’m glad Miller pulled his weight.” You felt him tighten his grip on your hip before he dropped his hands from your body and turned towards the couch, sinking into it with a groan. 

“Hey...” You tilted your head and nudged his foot with yours, Frankie looking up at you. “What’s wrong?” Frowning, you sat next to him, pulling one leg up and tucking it beneath you. “Is everything okay with Ollie?” 

He nodded, letting out a quiet laugh as his warm, wide palm came to rest on your knee. “Yeah, Ollie’s great.” He adjusted his position on the couch, making himself more comfortable and releasing a few small pops from his spine. “Your cornbread was a real hit with him. He told me again in the car how good it was.” 

You leaned your shoulder into the couch cushions and laughed. “I’m glad he’s a fan.” Watching the little boy’s face light up with glee as he tasted his first bite had been among the highlights of your day. “Looked like he was having fun running around with you and the guys during your football game, too.” Watching Frankie scoop his son up under one arm while Ollie’s tiny hands gripped the ball to run them both into the endzone he’d set up in your backyard had been another. The whole damn day was a highlight. “He was very excited about his touchdown.” 

“He was.” Frankie’s fingers moved lazily over your thigh as he sighed, the remnants of his smile fading. “He had a good day. We all did.” He gave you a light squeeze as he swallowed. “I’m upset because -” He stopped himself, closing his eyes with a quick shake of his head that tossed his curls. “No, upset isn’t the right…” Trailing off, he blinked and resumed the motion of his fingers. “Ollie was with us today, which means he’s with Tori for Christmas.” He rolled his eyes. “And, obviously, I knew that already.”

Nodding, you reached your arm across the backrest of the couch so that you could run your knuckle up and down the curve where his neck met his shoulder. “Right.” Eyebrows pinched together, you tilted your head. “You guys alternate. But you’ll still go over there to see him on Christmas morning for gifts, yeah?” 

You loved how hands on Frankie was when it came to raising Oliver, how much he wanted to be involved in his son’s life, and you were extremely thankful that he had an excellent co-parenting partner in Tori. Given his past - especially the time period just before and after Ollie was born - you knew that the woman could easily make things difficult for Frankie when it came to shared custody. But despite the fact that it was too late for it to matter for their relationship, you also knew that Tori genuinely believed that he had put all of his mistakes and the worst of his demons behind him, and that he was more than capable of being the father that their son deserved. And she’s right. 

But your frown returned when Frankie’s answer to your questions wasn’t what you were expecting it to be. “Not this year.” What? Why? Your expression asked the questions for you, prompting him to continue. “Remember when I told you her parents finally retired? Back in like March, I think?” 

You did, so you nodded. “Yeah, I remember. But what does that have to do with Christmas?” 

“Well, they weren’t sure it was going to happen until it did so they didn’t say anything earlier, but they pulled the trigger on a cabin. Steve’s been talking about it for years. Anyway, it’s officially theirs as of next week, and they decided they wanted to host Christmas there.” 

You didn’t see the problem yet. You knew Frankie was willing to spend as much time as he needed to in the car even for just an hour or so with his kid. “Okay… Where is this cabin?” It must be pretty far if- 

He let out a humorless sound. “Upstate New York.” Your eyes widened, brows jumping at his response. “Yeah. Usually it’s the New Yorkers buyin’ places down here when they retire, but they’re doing the reverse.” 

There it is. You winced. “Oh.” 

Keeping his hand on your knee, he brought the other one up to run it back over his hair as he blew out a breath. “And I’m happy for them, you know? Because I know they’ve wanted that for a long time. And it’s great or Ollie, too, because it means he gets to do new things. Maybe even see snow. I’m sure he’d go nuts for that.” 

Oh he absolutely would. “Of course he would.” What kid doesn’t lose their shit at the first sign of snow? 

“So I’m not upset, because I know he’s gonna have a damn blast. it’s just that… This is the first year I won’t be with him on Christmas. And now he's old enough to remember things, and…” He looked at you, and you could instantly feel the ache in his eyes as it settled in your chest. Oh, Frankie. 

He didn’t want to be absent from Ollie’s first real Christmas memories. Even if it was out of his hands.

“Hey.” You spoke softly, still dragging your knuckle soothingly over the skin above his collar. “I get it.” Unfolding your knee, you repositioned yourself so that both of your legs were draped over his lap, moving your body closer to his. He adjusted by resting one arm over your thighs and the other around your back, never looking away from your face. “You know I grew up with the same every other holiday thing with my parents, yeah?” The huge difference being that my parents ended up hating each other and you two do not. 

Frankie nodded wordlessly, but you explained anyway, wanting to make sure he got your point. 

“I’d do a holiday with one parent on the actual day, and then I’d do it again with the other on a different day. And you know what that taught me?” 

He shook his head. “What did it teach you?” 

“It taught me that calendar dates don’t mean too much. Celebrating Christmas was just as good on the 26th or the 28th or the 30th as it was on the 25th. And some of my favorite holiday memories? They aren’t even from Christmas day. They’re from all the things leading up to it, like decorating the tree and baking cookies. Things you can do-” You lifted your shoulders in a nonchalant shrug, quirking your mouth to the side. “Basically any time from tonight until the end of December, now that the turkey’s had its day.” You reached up to brush a loose strand of his hair behind his ear. “Christmas magic doesn’t have to be a one day thing. We just have to make the most of it the next time Ollie’s with us, that’s all.”  

Frankie stared at you for a few seconds, lips parting as he let out a breath. “We. Us.” He repeated your words, affection slowly changing the sadness in his eyes into something warmer. Yeah, Frankie, you don’t have to do things alone anymore. You have me. Always. “You’re incredible, you know that?” He reached up to encircle your wrist with his fingers, bringing your hand away from his neck and lifting it up to kiss the back of it. His mumbled words and warm breath tickled your skin. “Fucking amazing. You wanna help me make things special for my kid?” Of course I do. 

“I sure do.” You twisted your wrist to free it from his hold, Frankie letting go of you so that you could slide your palms over his cheeks, taking his face between them. “I love you, Francisco Morales. And I happen to be really fond of that kid of yours, too. So we’re gonna brainstorm and come up with some things we can do to make sure that he has some great memories with his Dad, and-” 

He didn’t let you finish that sentence though, surging forward to catch your lips with his, his tongue slipping into your mouth to lick the rest of your words right out of it. Taken by surprise, you gasped into the kiss which only spurred him on more, and in one swift motion he had you on your back, laying you down on the couch and laying his weight on top of you. You still had your hands on his face, but they slid to the back of his neck and head, fingers threading through his hair to pull a groan into your mouth. 

“I love you so goddamn much.” He murmured the words against your lips. “Been thinkin’ about how lucky I am to have you all night.” He nipped at your lower lip, then let his kisses rove behind your ear so that his next words couldn’t be missed. “You know how hard it was to keep my hands to myself while everyone was here?” You felt the tip of his tongue flick out to dampen your skin, and you sucked in a breath at the sensation. “Fucking impossible.” 

He rolled his hips into yours on the last word, and you couldn’t keep a whimper from slipping out at the way the motion stirred heat low in your belly. “You didn’t keep your hands to yourself, Frankie,” you reminded him, though you doubted he needed reminding. One of his hands started moving down your body, his touch trailing towards your waistline. You let out another near-moan at the combination of what he was currently doing, and the memory of what he’d done earlier - when he pulled you into the laundry room, his deft fingers delving down the front of your pants while his mouth silenced any noises you made. Because we’d never hear the end of it if Will or Maddy heard and came to see what was going on. 

“I didn’t,” he agreed, dragging the tip of his nose along your throat to drop a kiss to your pulse point. “But that was just the tip of the iceberg.” He caught you off guard again, the pads of his fingers sliding beneath your underwear and over your slick skin. “Now that we’re alone?” You felt his mischievous grin, felt the gravely rumble of his voice through his chest- and then you felt him plunge two fingers inside you. At that you cried out and he let you, no one left to keep quiet for. “I’m gonna finish what I started earlier.” 

–  –  –  

Two weeks later, you still caught yourself thinking about Thanksgiving night, and you knew that you would be for a long time. 

Frankie had made good on his claim, making you come twice right there on the couch before he took you to bed and took you apart all over again. It was almost dawn by the time the two of you fell asleep in each other’s arms, completely spent and sated, and since neither of you had to work the following day, you spent Black Friday with bare skin and lazy, lingering kisses instead of fighting with crowds at the shopping centers. 

But on the Saturday after, an idea came to you - an idea about how Frankie could still make a special memory with Ollie even though he wouldn’t see him at all the week of Christmas. Oh, it’ll be perfect. Excitedly, you brought it up with Frankie, explaining what you’d thought of. 

“So it’s about an hour away from here, but it’s worth the ride. They set up a whole Christmas town with a little train, and they hire sand artists to make these big elaborate winter-themed sculptures. There’s carolers and they do a big tree lighting event with ice skating and frozen hot chocolate and all kinds of activities for kids. I think Ollie would love it.” 

Frankie agreed enthusiastically, arms winding around you from behind to hold you close. “Sounds great.” I didn’t even tell you the best part yet. He dropped a kiss to the line of your jaw. And I’m not going to. “Thank you. For coming up with something.”

You grinned, your arms covering his where they wrapped around your belly. “Told you, Frankie. We’re a team.” 

“Yeah.” He nodded, his beard scratching your cheek as he tightened his hold. “We are.”

He’d cleared the trip with Tori, even though she’d already okayed any activities or day trips Frankie wanted to take Ollie on when he had him, the woman agreeing with both of you that it sounded like something that the little boy would enjoy. And at your suggestion, the two of you had invited Benny and Alana to come with Quinn. She was just over a year old and would likely sleep through most of the festivities in her stroller, but you knew that the Millers wouldn’t pass up on a group outing, and you knew that Frankie wouldn’t view their presence as an intrusion on his time with Ollie. They’re family, too. 

So when it came time for Ollie to spend the week with you and Frankie, the three of you climbed into his truck - Benny driving his little family separately in case they had to leave early - and headed east to a small town just outside of the Disney zone, called Celebration. 

There was a 50/50 shot that the thing you were trying to keep a secret until the last minute would be spoiled upon your arrival, banners or posters advertising the wintery phenomenon that visitors were about to witness, but luck was on your side. There were plenty of signs and decorations, so there was no missing the blocked off area that the town had designated for the holiday event, and it was just like you told Frankie it would be - food stalls and little craft and gift stalls set up to look like gingerbread houses, carolers in Victorian era costumes walking the street and singing Christmas songs new and old, an enormous pine tree towering over everything in the center of the square and dripping in bright lights. Even though it was 65 degrees and there were palm trees lining the streets, it was almost enough to make you feel like you were in an old world Christmas market, or like it was about to start snowing at any moment. 

And you were right about Ollie’s reaction to everything, his already large brown eyes going wide as saucers when he saw the big man in red waving and tossing candy canes to the crowd. “Daddy! Santa’s here!” He grabbed Frankie’s hand, pointing vehemently in the direction of the man in the Santa suit. “He came all the way far from the North pole! Do you see him?!” 

The joy on his little face was mirrored in Frankie’s, and your heart swelled at seeing them both wear the same expression. “I see him! He did come a long way, huh?” Ollie nodded, curls just like his father’s bouncing as he did. “We should probably go say hi, then, since he came all the way down here to see you.” 

“Yeah! C’mon Daddy! Let’s go! C’mon Uncle Benny!” 

You had to take a breath when your name was added to the excited babble, Ollie’s empty hand slipping into yours so he was between you and Frankie, his gleeful grin beaming up at you. “Come and see Santa with us too!” 

“Yeah,” Frankie spoke softly, stepping close and giving you a wink. “Come see Santa with us.” 

Blinking back the unexpected tears brought on by Ollie’s enthusiastic inclusion, you winkled your nose and smiled down at him. “Do you think I’m on the good list this year?” 

Without a moment’s hesitation, he answered by springing up and down, still holding both yours and Frankie’s hands. “Yeah! You’re on the good list already because you’re always really nice and fun and you’re always making my Dad and me happy.” 

You let out a chuckle at that, glancing up at Frankie, the sight of his smile enough to send a rush of warmth through you. “She sure does, Buddy.” He jostled Ollie’s hand. “Now let’s go before he has to get back to his workshop to finish making presents.” 

Keeping Ollie between you, Frankie started walking towards the area designated for photos with Santa, but he leaned in over the little boy’s head to kiss your cheek and whisper in your ear. “You were right. This is great. And he’s gonna remember this just the same as if we were doing it on Christmas Day.” Ollie turned to say something to Alana, and Frankie looked down at him before finding your eyes again. “Thank you.” 

It was your turn to lean over and brush your lips to his cheek. “Anytime, Morales.” 

For the next hour and a half the six of you strolled the area, stopping occasionally at the different displays or to take pictures or grab a snack from one of the booths. But the highlight of the night, and what you were looking the most forward to since you remembered that this event existed, came at 7pm - when “snow” started falling, a chorus of gasps and shrieks rising up from the crowd. 

“What! It’s snowin’?!” Ollie’s incredulous question joined the dozens from other children gaping in awe up at their parents and family members as big puffy flakes fell on their cheeks and noses. “How’s it snowin’ if it’s not even cold?” 

Lifting him up, Frankie answered without missing a beat, leaning in to bop Ollie’s nose with the tip of his. “Christmas magic, Buddy.” 

You snapped a picture of the two of them, making a mental note to find a photo ornament to put it in so that the moment would have a place on the tree for years to come. That done, you watched them play in the faux snow - a biodegradable non-toxic substance that would be gone in a half hour but that would provide a lifelong memory - until you felt Benny’s elbow nudge yours. 

“Hey. You did real good.” Turning your head, you met Benny’s eyes, the younger man already looking at you. “Ollie’s beside himself, obviously, but I mean… with Fish.” He smiled, the expression soft and warm, a sort of platonic affection for you almost palpable in it that you weren’t expecting even though you were quick to call him your friend now, too. “I’ve never seen him happier than he is with you.” 

He didn’t wait to let that sink in though, nodding over to his wife before clearing his throat and stepping up to where Frankie and his son were playing. “Hey, Olliegator, I think I saw penguins over there. You wanna come see ‘em? We can show Quinny.” 

Just as Benny knew he would, the little boy ran over, shouting in agreement, leaving you standing in the snowfall with Frankie. There were easily a few hundred people around you, but as he came to stand in front of you, his hands on your waist and big white flakes fluttering all around him, it was as though the two of you were in your own little snowglobe, sharing your own private moment. 

“Hey, you.” You spoke through a smile that pulled at your cheeks, your hands resting on the rolled up cuffs of his unnecessary for the weather but seasonally appropriate flannel, thumbs brushing over the worn material and into the crook of his elbow. 

He smiled back at you, brown eyes brimming with affection. “Hey, Flamingo.”  Reaching up, he plucked a flake from your hair, the substance vanishing as soon as it hit his warm skin, just like real snow. “You knew about this, didn’t you?” 

You moved your head from side to side to feign thought. “Maybe.” Pressing your lips together, you took the bottom one between your teeth. “Yes. I knew about this. My sister was really into chorus in highschool, and her music teacher suggested that she try out for the carol troupe one year so-” You shrugged. “I’ve been to this a few times because of that, but that was ages ago. I hadn’t thought about it in years. And then when you mentioned that Tori’s parents’ place was up in New York and that Ollie might get to see snow…” You lifted one hand from his arm, palm skyward to collect the sudsy white stuff. “I remembered this.” 

The kiss he gave you then was brief, but you knew there would be much more where it came from when you were no longer surrounded by so many strangers. “Ollie’s gonna remember this forever.” He nodded, the curve of his forehead resting against yours. “And so am I. Merry Christmas.” 

“It’s not Christmas yet, Frankie,” you mumbled through your grin. 

“No,” he agreed. “It’s not. But with enough Christmas magic? Does it matter?” 

You shook your head, nudging his nose with yours. “Nope. Sure doesn’t. Merry Christmas, Francisco.” 

.

.

.

Fun Fact: The event that I based this fic on is real! It's called Now Snowing, and it's been going on for 25 years! I embellished it a little bit for the story, but you really can see "snow" (the same stuff they use in movies and TV) every night from the end of November through December :)

tags: @something-tofightfor @cannedsoupsucks @dihra-vesa @littlemisspascal @alraedesigns @mishasminion360 @stevie75 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @harriedandharassed @woodlandmouth @thescarletfang @trickstersp8 @imtryingmybeskar @wildmoonflower @mswarriorbabe80 @theredwritingwitch @silverstarsandsuns @competentpotato @pedro-pedrito-pascalito @jedi-in-crocs @hannahkatharine @anoverwhelmingdin @chiyo13 @myloveistoolittle @Noisynightmarepoetry @Severin-proud

[cyborg-franky]

May I participate in the secret Santa event if your not too busy,if I can't then it's fine just ignore this but I would like too say that your writing is quite amazing and it has given me inspiration to write more so thank you❤️sorry if it doesn't make sense I am not the best at sending requests or talking to people in general

Thank you ;-; and I'm always touched when people tell me I've helped to inspire, I know I repeat that alot but man, I mean it <3 thank you and I am looking forward to reading your reply!

You made perfect sense don't worry.

[cyborg-franky]

[I love Aizawa, I cosplayed him ages ago, the brainrot is valid]

Killer looked at the two packages and was confused but low-key excited he got to have two things. He cackled at the can he was given, the wrapping was dumb but amusing and he was enjoying it, the can looked like soup and he opened it, he saw the tickets, another laugh but he gave you a thumbs up to show you he liked it.

He knew people would stare at him when he laughed the way he did but here he would be left alone, just would look like he was having an overly good time. He unwrapped the second and his eyes widened as he gripped the package tighter.

Oh, the fancy pepper that was almost impossible to find, the pepper he’d tried to get for one of his super famous and beloved pasta sauces. He looked over each tube and grinned brighter, he hoped his genuine happiness for the gifts would shine over his forced smile.

He was going to cook up a storm tonight..

@cyborg-franky for the secret santa event 🎅

Ahh thank you! Yes Aizawa don't get me started huuuge brainrot atm

First of all just to be sure:

*****WANO SPOILER*****

To be honest I was a little nervous when I realized I had to get a present for Killer. We've known each other for ages but only by sight. So I thought I'd ask the others for advice.

After all the stories I had a very different picture of him, he was more like the responsible one, if there is even a responsible one in this crew. And more important he didn't let his fate with the smile fruit get him down.. I also found out that he likes drums and cooking.

Now I got a plan. First, I'm hoping to bring out his funny side by getting him two tickets to a comedy show. He can laugh there in piece. Its wrapped in a can like this:

And to calm him down if the joke doesn't go down well, he also got his favorite spice. Imported red pepper. Luckily Sanji was able to help me.

I stare at him nervously as he unwraps the present.

[grogusmum]

Let It SQUALL ❄️

This is part if the @pedrostories Secret Santa gift exchange 2022.

For: @something-tofightfor

With love: Hazel

Frankie Morales x GN!Reader

W/C:1400

RATED: T

You go to a tree farm to get your Christmas Tree and get a little help from Frankie.

It's your first Christmas alone, but you are determined to enjoy personal traditions built over a decade. This includes cutting your own tree...

So here you are, pulling into the tree farm's hardpan parking lot, hoping your hatchback isn't too small to bring one home. You remind yourself that it will be fine so long as you get a small tree as you get out of the car and grab your bow saw.

It really is a perfect day for it, snow on the ground from last night and some flurries swirling… you are bundled up in your favorite sweater with a scarf, gloves and good boots as you make your way to the field.

Holiday music floats over the parking lot and in the warming house, the smell of wood smoke and hot chocolate fill you with nostalgia.

A sweet faced dog with large pointy ears lopes by, you smile and your eyes can't help following. It's a dog, okay? The dog stops, tail wagging at a guy, you assume is his owner. He's comfortably handsome with soft brown eyes, a mustache and patchy scruff on his chin and cheeks. Layered a thermal shirt, button down flannel, and quilted barn coat, his head topped with a trucker cap with the tree farm logo on it. You note his coat has a patch with Frankie embroidered on it.

He gives you a crooked smile that displays a singular dimple. You give a small smile back and then continue your trek to the grove of trees, your face heats a little at being caught staring.

The music fades being replaced by the crunch of your foot falls and the aroma of pine and snow overtakes the smells from the farm yard.

You meander through the trees unhurried, passing the noble firs, gorgeous but expensive, best not to fall in love with one. Next the Douglases, then the Frasers… at the Balsams you turn into the rows, surrounding yourself in their scent. You take a moment to steep in it.

“I like the balsams too, humble, beautiful and the amazing smell lasts,” says a soft voice behind you.

“I love them,” you say, you had heard a second set of boots in the snow, turning to see that the friendly voice is coming from Frankie, the tree farm guy. “I just wish they held their needles a bit better.”

“Yeah, there’s always a catch,” he chuckles.

“There really always is isn't there," you smile.

“So, I followed you to see if I could help. Usually we get people out here in pairs or families…” Frankie trails off, not wanted to overstep. His hand comes up to the back of his neck, it is sweetly shy.

“Oh,” you say, have this broad, soft eyed tree farmer help? Pssh “That would be great!”

His smile lights up and you know you are in trouble!

As you and Frankie walk the lines of trees, you tell him you usually get a tall tree, your place, while not very big, has high ceilings, but now you only have a small hatchback to bring it home, so you need to stick with a 5 footer.

“Deciding which ornaments to leave in the boxes, that will be hard” you say with a sigh.

You walk in companionable silence for a few beats.

“Are you far?”

“No actually, I’m above the used bookstore right off Main,” you say absently as you walk around a small tree, scrutinizing it.

"I can," Frankie clears his throat, "I could bring- we offer delivery."

It takes a moment for you.

"Really?" You beam, then your face falls, "mmm, thank you butI really can't afford a bigger tree and delivery- "

"Delivery, under 5 miles, is free," Frankie confirms with more confidence. Though you get the feeling he just did that math. It's your turn to give a lopsided smile, as you thank him and move away from the small tree and head for the more mature ones.

You choose a narrow eight foot tree, Frankie makes quick work of falling it for you and drags it behind him as you make small talk. The temperature dropping as the day progresses and you begin to shiver.

"Cold?"

"Yeah, I didn't think it was supposed to drop like this, also thought I was going to be keeping myself warm with taking the tree down myself." Then you quickly add with a grin, "not I'm complaining. Thank you again."

"Well let's get you a hot drink and warm you up!"

At the warming house, you loosen your scarf and open up you coat. Frankie is aglow, ruddy cheeks from the chill and exertion as he hangs his coat up and adds a log to the woodstove. He smiles at a couple of the crew taking a break from the cold as he picks up two mugs-

"We got coffee, tea, hot chocolate and hot cider"

"Oh, um… I'll take the cider!"

Frankie, dimple showing, brings the two piping hot mugs over. You take the mug with both hands grazing his, murmuring your thanks.

After a sip-

"I love this space, and the woodcut ornaments… so, is this a family business?"

"Sorta, found family I guess." He says, "my buddies and I bought it, sort of defunked at the time…"

You continue to look everywhere but him-

"Nice"

Frankie on the other hand can't take his eyes off of you, "yeah."

Finally, you look over your steaming mug at him, "yeah."

You were kicking yourself internally for being so awkward. Why? Why must you be this way?

Then a bunch of phone notifications chime at once, you look at yours as several others do the same, including Frankie.

"Well, we'd better get you and your tree home, there's warning for squalls." Frankie says as everyone starts moving to finish up.

You nod and take another sip of the cider and set it down on the tray table set out for that purpose.

"I'm, um, a little nervous about my car getting it down the hill its not great in the snow…"

"Well, you're not far, how about I drive you in the pickup and you can get your car tomorrow, it's supposed to be clear tomorrow, no problem," Frankie guides you out a hand gently on your lower back. The tree is already in his truck and he takes just a moment to say something to a shorter man with black curls, who looks at you and then back to Frankie. He smiles and Frankie gives him a good natured shove.

With a whistle, his dog hops in the cab as the two of you clamber in.

"Is it okay if my dog joins?"

"Of course," you enthuse, giving the sweetie a scratch behind those big ears.

As with squalls, the snow is suddenly heavy and there are moments when it is white out conditions. You were so glad to not be in your little hatchback, you really needed to get a better car for the winter.

Frankie takes his time and soon enough you are in front of your bookstore, The Dancing Goat.

"Why dancing goat?" He asks looking up at the sign.

"That is an excellent question," you say with a smirk as you climb out of the truck.

You hear him chuckle, then shiver. With the wind the snow is coming down, and sideways, and up.

After the pair of you bring the tree up the stairs to the apartment above, and put the tree in the stand, you walk him back out to the sidewalk, finding the snow is worse.

"Maybe you should come back up, hopefully the squalls will settle in a little bit."

"Yeah, I can bring Raffi in?" Frankie asks, hand on the car door.

"Of course."

As you wait for the kettle, you start putting up the tree lights, Frankie falling very naturally in step with you, helping wind them around the tree. His dog Raffi finds your couch a perfect place to watch you both work, and gets cozy.

The kettle sings just as you finish the lights, so you plug it in with a voilà and you turn down the other lights and rush to get the tea brewing.

The windows with snow swirling outside them perfectly frame your merrily twinkling evergreen. You can't help but sigh and your eyes get bright with holidays past.

As a distraction, you pull out your phone, check the weather once more and then swipe over to your music app, selecting Skating by Vince Girardi and the quiet nostalgia of the Charlie Brown soundtrack.

"I think it might be a while."

"That's alright by me," Frankie says as he plunks down next to his already sleeping dog, he looks up an eyebrow raising and smile widening as he pats the cushion next to him-

"I'm still waiting to hear about the Dancing Goat."

Part 2

THANK YOU FOR READING 💚 AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS

If you enjoyed this, you can find more Frankie and my writng in general on my masterlist and if you would like to be tagged in future work, please go to my taglist form.

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

(っ◔◡◔)っ🚀🎄 ꌗꉣꍏꉓꍟ ꌗꀤꌗ꓄ꍟꋪꌗ ꌗꍟꉓꋪꍟ꓄ ꌗꍏꈤ꓄ꍏ 🎄🚀

For my dearest Space Sisters Secret Santa Exchange Giftee, @doctorliamsr

Please enjoy me trying to squeeze in as many of your prompt requests as I can in the form of a poem and an edit:

What a scoundrel little Ezra is, ready to mollywop any and every snowball fight participant inside the TARDIS. He'll deal with the Doctor's reprimand later and sweet talk his way out of it, that charming little menace! Ever the curious pilot, dear little Frankie is so often mesmerized and intrigued by the workings of the TARDIS. He watches intently every time the Doctor switches a flip, turns a knob, or shouts some nonsense that somehow makes the spacecraft react in some unexpected way. Frankie doesn't have much time left to ponder what exactly set off the TARDIS to create so much snowfall (and so quickly) as Ezra's tightly packed snowball hurdles towards his trusty Standard Heating Oil cap. But why not aim for Joel instead, distracted as he is by the novel tune of "Dick in a Box" from SNL playing from the radio? Ezra hadn't made it this far in life by not choosing his fights wisely. So he leaves Joel to his inner wonderings. When had anyone even turned that on? Who picked this song? Who the hell had even written it? Frankie's surprised yelp will soon get his attention back to the task at hand, and unfortunately for Ezra, Joel embodies the ancient proverb: knuck if ya buck.

Who will win the snowball fight? Well, that's for you to decide. Leave a comment below with who would win the snowball fight. Bonus points for saying how they won it.

Merry Christmas, ♥Puddles♥