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mor-beck-more-problems · 4 years

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Ecologies of Rebuilding Your Life || Morgan & Frankie

Frankie tries out a college class. Morgan remembers her past.

@offrankies

“...And who is it that determines the definition of humanity? What kind of definitions do we see offered by Victor, or Henry Cleveral, or the Creature?” Morgan asked the class. The students, while not thrilled with some of Mary Shelley’s ‘big words’ had enough preparation to offer semi thoughtful ideas. Obviously, Victor thought he could define what human means. One of her try-hard students, eager to work his way into his advanced courses, posited that while Victor’s definition of humanity is the one that dominates the narrative, the intrusion of the creature’s perspective halfway through the book is meant to compel the reader into questioning its validity. “Yes!” Morgan tossed the kid a candy from her bowl. “The midpoint crisis here upends our expectations through thought, rather than action. It is, structurally, the center, the heart of the story, changing what we believe to be true. But, are we convinced by the Creature’s definition of his humanity? Why or why--”

Morgan’s timer, the theme song of The X-Files, went off.

“Shit. Alright, that’s time everybody! Do your homework, do your reading, and get ready for Fan-Fiction Friday! And you--” She pointed to the newcomer sandwiched at the corner of the seminar table. “Come see me for a minute. The rest of you, glad you love each other, but please get out.” As the room cleared out she began to gather up her things. “I don’t like to call out guests who are here to spectate, but you seem like you might be trying out the seminar for yourself. Can I ask what brings you by? I think you’ve got one more day to add this into your schedule if you’re thinking about it.”

Had it not been for Frankie’s good grades, and because her mother had moved the sky, the sea and the Earth to convince the principal to allow her to take her finals online, she would’ve ended a high school dropout. But Frankie had been lucky, and she knew she couldn’t pass the possibility of enrolling in the local college; which was why she was sitting in the back of a classroom, listening to a college lecture. It felt good learning again, the big “nerd” sign she had carried through school across her forehead as visible as always; but it was clear that she was struggling - not because of the subject, but because there were so many colors cramped together in the room it made it hard to focus. Except for the professor, who didn’t have any. There were, apparently, more vampires than she had initially guessed.

Being called out as she tried to quietly sneak out of the room made her freeze, a visible wince showing on her face. Were listeners not allowed? She had no idea, and as she followed the professor’s instructions and walked to her desk, Frankie’s heartbeat sped up, her mouth already open to justify herself, but being cut short by the woman’s voice. Her lips pressed together, hands playing with the strap of her backpack as she thought. “I’m sorry, Mrs…. Uhm, ma’am.” Shit. Frankie didn’t even know her name, less alone the name of her class. “I entered the wrong class and I realized too late and didn’t want to interrupt...” She started saying the monologue she had practiced, but then stopped herself. A sigh. “That’s- That’s not true. I’m, uhm, looking to enroll in this college, for a... teaching major...”

“Oh, Stars, please don’t ma’am me,” Morgan said wryly. “Professor Beck is good. And so is Professor Morgan. Or just Morgan. That is my name, after all.” She listened to the girl’s story, fighting back the urge to laugh as she outed herself at her own lie. There really was no shame and no harm in the story she’d lead with. And there was even less to be embarrassed about with the truth. “Hey,” she said, warmly as she could. She could force herself to be warm in spirit, in voice, even if she couldn’t be in her body, right? “Teachers--good teachers, are the badasses that spawn other badasses. Good teaching makes everything else in the world possible. Wanting to be one is the last thing you should be afraid to admit. Especially, you know, to a teacher.” Morgan shouldered her bag and gathered the homework papers from today’s session. “Let’s walk and talk, yeah? Maybe tell me your name, how far along you are in your application?”

A soft smile formed on Frankie’s face as the woman offered her name. “Professor Morgan.” She settled, nodding softly as she continued. Maybe there was nothing surrounding Morgan, but Frankie didn’t need to see the light blue flowing around her body to know that she was a good person willing to help. She wondered if bringing up the lack of aura was a good idea, but decided that she needed college answers before asking questions about the undead. “My name’s Frankie Calloway, I just moved to this town a little over a week ago. Uhm.” As they walked, she scrambled to grab her backpack that was hanging from her shoulder, taking from it a binder filled with papers. Searching through it, she took an essay and an application, showing it to her. “I originally was going to Pittsburgh, ‘cause I got a scholarship when I applied, but uh, I decided to come here instead.” As she let the other skim through them, she hugged the filled binder against her chest, biting her lips. “And I’m… very behind considering I haven’t started yet.”

Oh, she had a binder. This kid knew what was up. Started on some things, she at least had a paper form to work off of. But--not quite making the plunge yet. Morgan couldn’t help but be endeared by the drive and relate to her nerves. How often had she wanted to reach for something she desperately wanted and then forced herself to hold back over her stupid family curse? But what was Frankie’s reason? “It’s good to meet you, Frankie. I hope you’ll think about taking the class, in the fall if not over the summer.” She lead them out the building and onto the arts quad. The weather wasn’t exactly perfect, but there were still students milling in shorts and tanks, throwing frisbees, staring into their phones as if nothing ever had or would disrupt their peace again. “Can I ask--and you can say no--but, what happened with the change up? You seem to have a lot of spirit, you’re organized, you’ve got at least some of the basics, so I just wonder--and I only wonder because I may or may not have been there before--what’s been holding you back, Frankie?”

“I’ll definitely take your class, Professor. But I don’t, uhm, think I’ll make it this summer.” Frankie’s eyes looked around at the college life, and despite all the bright colors merging together in a sea of colors that threatened to make her go blind, she couldn’t help but smile once again, full of hope. It had been a dream of hers ever since sophomore year to go away to college with her girlfriend; and though the second half now seemed impossible, she could still try and make the first part come true. The questions made her shift uncomfortably, not quite prepared to answer them. It was easy to take the easy way off and say it was personal, but lying and keeping her mouth shut would be very un-Frankie of her. It took her several seconds for her to organize her thoughts before she continued. Both arms tightened around the binder and her body, and she looked down to the floor to ignore the auras as they got closer to the students hanging out. “I really thought I had... my whole life figured out back in Nashville. Like, I was graduating valedictorian, had the most amazing girlfriend in the world-- but then she was-- it was all gone. One second to another. And--” She bit her tongue to stop herself from spilling more information. “I don’t know. I guess I just needed a fresh start.”

Morgan watched Frankie closely. There was a lot more bubbling under her surface than she was letting on. It was almost funny--how could she be so surprised at seeing someone so lost and weighted down, holding onto so much hope. Hadn’t she been that way before she died? She’d had to set down her positivity torch now and then over the years, but never her hope. Even in her last human moments, looking into Deirdre’s eyes, she’d had the hope of one more breath, one more second looking at her, one more chance to make the words come. And then she’d died, and all that hope she’d clinged to seemed foolish and out of reach. She wondered how long Frankie would be able to hang onto hers, and whether it was better to warn her of how much strain there was to follow her or to let her do her best as she would, give her a reason to keep trying. It was disorienting, not to know for sure. Two months ago, she would have. “Come on, Frankie. Summer on campus isn’t complete without at least a run to the coffee shop. You should at least get a nice preview of the maybe-future.” She lead Frankie down one of the quiet side entrances and down the stairs to one of the student cafes. “It’s hard, when your life falls apart, and you lose everything you were leaning on. It takes a lot of strength, and a lot of hope to pick yourself up again after something like that. And it takes time, starting over. So maybe you’ll be here in the fall instead, or even the spring.” She guided them towards the line, shorter now than it was during normal school time. “How’s your fresh start been going for you anyway? You’re not at the traveler’s rest are you?”

Hope. It was definitely something Frankie seemed to be clutching onto lately. Even after almost a year had passed since her girlfriend had disappeared overnight, she never stopped believing that she was out there, somewhere, waiting for her. When she had moved to a tiny town a thousand miles away from home, she had hopes that things would be alright, and she ended up meeting a caring vampire that treated her like a daughter. And if she had been right about such a big things like that, how could she believe this time would be different? The teen followed the woman, silently listening to her as they made their way to the cafeteria, the arms around herself not loosening, and her sight still digging the floor beneath her feet. “I just... can’t sit idle and pretend everything is okay.” It felt weird opening up to a complete stranger, but it also felt good, in a way. If there was something like daddy issues but with mothers, then Frankie definitely had those, and every time an older woman showed the slightest compassion, it was like a faucet had been turned on. “I’ve always wanted to go to college and-- I know I can wait, I have all the time in the world and all that but-- I just need this one thing.” Frankie finally looked up, and the emotion on her face could only be described as tired. “Just one thing going for me, to remind myself that… I’m still me, you know? That despite everything that happened and is, uhm, happening, I’m still the same Frankie from seventh grade that wants to teach tiny humans what colors are.” A shaky breath made its way through her parted lips, and she looked at the menu, mostly to avert her sight since she already knew what she wanted. “It’s been alright, just a bit… bumpy I guess. I live with this guy who’s actually pretty nice.”

It hurt to hear words Morgan had clung to for so much of her sad mortal life coming out of this girl, practically a kid still. I need this, I just want this one thing, I don’t want much, I just need to make this one thing work and then it’ll be okay. “Hey,” she said, bending down and around to catch a better glimpse of Frankie’s face. “I do know, actually. A lot. I know how hard it is, and how tired you must be.” There was a sadness of understanding behind her warm expression and soft voice. The world was so cruel to children--had it always been this way? Was there any explanation good enough to explain why Frankie had to carry what she did? Morgan at least had her reason, even a partial one, and it didn’t feel worth shit. “You are still you, Frankie. There’s no disaster or suffering that can take that away unless you really let it. You’re still here. That’s not an easy thing to hold onto, but you are. And,” her smile turned kind and knowing, opening the door to let the details Frankie’s past stay untouched if she preferred to. “It sounds like you’re navigating town alright. So, know what you want?”

Frankie’s eyes began to sting, and she had to bite her tongue to push down the urge to just start wailing in front of the professor. It was in that moment that she decided she would do whatever it took to take her class “You’re right, professor.” Not having her grandmother and mother with her also took a toll. From one day to another she had been named captain of a ship sailing through the angry ocean, and there was no one to guide her. But Morgan was right - she had to hold on tight to the rudder and continue navigating. Eyes finally locked on the woman’s, a weak smile forming on her face, followed by the tiniest nod. The fact that there wasn’t aura around her only made her easier to approach, easier to feel comfortable around her. Graham’s words about not all vampires being nice ringed in her head, but so far every single undead she had met had been nothing but nice to her. “I guess it’s hard to… not lose perspective. I know I’m still me, but… I don’t always feel that way.” Especially when there were werewolves and vampires and who knew what else slowly taking over her life. “Vanilla latte.” Frankie scrambled to take her wallet. “Please let me pay for you. It’s the least I can do to thank you.”

“Okay, enough ‘professor’ talk,” Morgan said. “Morgan is good, at least for outside of class. And I know that feeling too. When you’re in the sad pit, it’s hard to see anything straight, even yourself. But that doesn’t mean you stop trying. You always have to try, Frankie. And as far as I know, you’ve got a whole lot of life ahead of you and a whole mess of good things to reach for.” She held the girl’s gaze a moment, smiling with all the warmth and bravery she had within her. She felt a bitter pull to straighten herself up, to be as good and as strong as people seemed to think she was. She grasped for whatever piece of that she really had. She didn’t want Frankie to know how she still found herself struck paralysed and numb by the nothing-feeling of the sun on her skin, even with Felix’s magic pills. Or how bitterly and pointlessly her mortal life had ended. That it hadn’t mattered what hope she placed into the universe or how many times she had pulled herself up. She wanted to signal some kind of validation for her hope. She seemed like a good kid, and maybe it was selfish, but Morgan wanted to believe that some girl would have it fairer, better. She reached out and squeezed Frankie’s shoulder, lightly in a way she had now practiced often. The student in front of them stepped aside to the pickup counter and Morgan gave the vanilla latte order.

“Anything else?” The cashier asked.

“Nope!” Morgan said, swiping her card. “Sorry,” she said, smirking at Frankie. “I hope you don’t mind the trick, but I can’t have anything here anyways. And you don’t seem the type to take a little gift easy.”

It felt nice having a grown up reassuring that, at least in theory, things would be okay. The cold hand on her shoulder only confirmed what she had already known: Morgan was definitely not human and almost definitely a vampire, but then again, they had just walked in broad daylight like nothing, so could there be different types of them? She lost herself in that thought for a moment, not realizing what Morgan had done until it was too late. Frankie just stared at the woman fool her, dumbfoundedly pointing at the cashier with one finger before turning it to the professor. And she just stared for a couple seconds until it clicked, before erupting in laughter, covering his mouth with the hand holding the wallet, tears quickly forming on the corner of her eyes as she continued laughing. It was such a small thing, and there was no way in heaven Morgan knew what she had just done, but her grandma used to do the same little trick on her when they were young and she tried to use her allowance money to buy both of them an ice cream. Without meaning to, Morgan had made her feel more Frankie than she had since she had arrived in town. “Thank you.” She just said as the laughter died in chipper resignation but determined to pay her back in the future, and then wiped the corner of her eyes before shoving all her stuff back in her backpack. If she was thanking her for the memories or for the coffee, even Frankie wasn’t sure. Perhaps both. “I’ll let it go if you tell me more about your class.” Coffee in hand, the teen motioned to an empty table, a smile on her face, before she started bombing her with questions.

#wickedswriting #ecologies of rebuilding your life #wr frankie #wr chatzy #wr frankie chatzy #wr

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schlock-luster-video · 3 years

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Today in psychological drama / anti-war film history: on July 2, 2004 Combat Shock was released on DVD in Finland.

Here's some Frankie art to mark the occasion!

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queridopascal · 3 years

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mirror sex

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Warning: 18+,explicit content, SMUT, oral (f receiving), mirror sex (duh), praise kink, unprotected sex (p in v), creampie, mention of self-doubt and insecurities related to body image, body worship, fluff

KINKTOBER 2021 MASTERLIST

A/N: is this too much? I don’t know. All I know is that Frankie deserves a little praise and a little body worship ❤️

Frankie always knew how to cheer you up after a stressful day at work.

You had been telling him how understaffed you were in your office and how you and your other colleagues have been staying late to try and finish what you could, even on Saturdays, helping each other with the gigantic workload as best as you could.

“Let me take care of you, baby...” he whispered as he pulled you in his arms.

You nodded silently and he kissed you, long and hard, guiding you until the back of your knees hit the foot of the bed. He gently pushed you down and made you sit, then he kneeled in between your legs and gazed up at you with expectant brown eyes, soft and sweet.

“May I, beautiful?” he asked you as his hands grazed your legs ever so slightly, never breaking eye contact with you.

“Yes, Frankie. Please.”

His hands slid under your skirt and yanked your panties down with a sudden swift movement, a stark contrast to the gentle Frankie that was staring at you only mere seconds before.

Ducking his head, he leaned in and pressed his face against the heat between your thighs, inhaling your scent and groaning when he felt your slick on his lower lip.

“God, I wanna die like this,” he sighed as he nuzzled your curls, and you chuckled, grabbing his hat by the bill and turning it backwards, granting him easier access to where you needed him most.

The moment his tongue made contact with your folds, your mouth opened to let out a soft moan, and Frankie gazed up at you, smiling against your skin when he saw you bit down into your lower lip.

You looked at your reflection in the mirror positioned right in front of you, but you couldn’t watch your face, it felt too weird and wrong somehow; instead, you focused on Frankie’s back hidden under his grey t-shirt, how his muscles moved when he slightly turned his head and how his shoulder blades opened as he positioned his hands under your knees to spread you even wider for him.

The thought of seeing yourself in the mirror as Frankie took you from behind had now taken over your mind; just the idea of looking into his eyes through the mirror as he fucked you senseless was making your insides throb.

“Frankie, baby,” you whimpered as you removed his cap and tugged at his hair, making him look at you. “I need you inside of me, I need you to fuck me. Please, baby.”

He nodded and got up, helping you to your feet; you both got rid of your clothes, touching and grazing every inch of skin as it was revealed.

“How do you want it, baby?” he asked you as he pressed his lips to your neck, lavishing it with open mouthed kisses and subtle scrapes of his teeth.

“I want to watch you as you fuck me, Frankie.” you demanded as you cupped his nape and tilted your head further to the side, allowing him to lick and suck on your skin.

He pulled away from your neck and his eyes were dark, their usual warm brown now replaced by something primal, almost animalistic, feral.

“Get on the bed.” he growled his command, “Hands and knees for me, pretty.”

You complied and stared at him through the mirror as he positioned himself behind you: he looked ethereal, with those messy curls and that hungry gaze that made your knees weak; his hands came to rest on your shoulders, massaging them for a moment, before descending to your sides and hips. He kissed the back of your neck, then down your spine, and you moaned at the gentle tickle provided by his scruffy beard.

He let go of your right hip and nudged his cock at your entrance, pushing it in slowly, inch by inch, giving you time to adjust to his girth.

His mouth opened with a whispered groan when your wet warmth wrapped tightly around him, and your gazes locked through the mirror once you looked up.

You both remained still and silent for a long moment, eyes glued to the reflection in the mirror, an image that you surely would never be able to get out of your head.

“Frankie...” you whimpered when he started moving, “you look so beautiful like this.”

He groaned at your praise and his hips snapped against your ass. “Shit, baby... keep—fuck—keep talking...”

“You... oh fuck, Frankie... you feel fucking amazing, baby boy.” you chocked out a moan and pushed back against him, earning a low chuckle of approval.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, you were hypnotized by the way he bared his teeth and how he threw his head back every few thrusts; his jaw clenched, the tendons of his neck bulged as he hissed, sweaty, rebellious curls fell onto his forehead, and he raked them back with one of his hands, all the while looking at himself in the mirror with a crooked grin.

“Fuck,” you whimpered after a particularly intense thrust, “you look so sexy, Frankie. I’m so turned on by you right now.”

“Fucking hell...” he hissed again as he pushed himself deeper, his pace faster and bruising. “You’re gonna make me cum, baby. Ah, shit! I’m so fucking close baby, so close...”

“I—I’m close, too.” you cried out. “Cum inside me, Frankie. Be a good boy and come inside me.”

He grunted and moved one hand to wrap around your neck, pulling you upright and holding you there as he thrust up into you, his other hand resting under your breasts, trying to keep you still for him.

“G—gonna cum,” you stuttered and he immediately eased the grip around your neck; he grunted in your ear, the warmth of his breath making your every nerve buzz with electricity.

After a couple more deep thrusts, you were trembling against his body; your legs threatened to give up for the intensity of the orgasm Frankie had just pulled out of you, but he wrapped his arms around your midsection, steadying you as he groaned against your left cheek, burying himself deeper and deeper into your gushing pussy until you felt that familiar warm rush as he emptied himself inside of you.

Looking into the mirror, you chuckled when you saw the blissful expression on Frankie’s face, a perfect example of satisfaction and happiness. He was still trying to catch his breath, and you could feel the gentle touch of his tummy against your back as it rose and fell rapidly.

You carefully turned your upper body and kissed his cheek, scratching lovingly at his bearded chin with one hand before slowly pulling away and returning your gaze to the mirror.

“You look wrecked, baby.” you pointed out with a giggle, and he raised his head, making eye contact with you through the reflection.

“Because you are so good to me,” he whispered as he ducked his head to kiss your shoulder. “and because I love you.”

“I love you too, Frankie.” you smiled. “And I loved seeing the faces you made while fucking me from behind, they’re different than the ones you do when we fuck in other positions.”

“Really?” he straightened and stared at you, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

“Mmh,” you nodded. “you looked so hot and focused, it was breathtaking.”

Frankie flushed red at your words and hid his face in the crook of your neck, nuzzling your skin and sighing heavily.

“Oh come on, Frankie!” you huffed, amused. “Don’t get all shy on me now!”

“I’m... not sure what you see in me. My body is just... I am so out of shape, baby.” he murmured in a tiny voice, and you pouted, disentangling yourself from his body and jumping off the bed.

You stood with your back to the mirror and extended your hand to him; he looked at you with hesitation for a few seconds before taking your hand and climbing off the bed, standing right in front of you.

“Look in the mirror, Frankie.” you whispered as you moved to stand beside him. “Look at how beautiful you are.”

“Baby, please. I—”

You silenced him with a quick kiss, then moved your hands up and carded your fingers through his hair, twirling the sweaty locks around your index finger. “I love your brown waves. And I love those silver highlights, they make you even sexier.”

Your fingers descended to his cheeks and cupped them. “I love this mustache and this cute bald spot.” you said as you gently pressed your lips where the hairs refused to grow. He smiled.

“I love this perfect tummy,” you caressed it. “firm and soft at the same time.” you said as you got down on your knees and kissed just below his navel.

He sighed as he looked down at you, shuddering when your nails scraped along his hips.

“And I love these thighs,” you kissed them both. “thick and muscular. So strong.”

“Baby...” he whimpered when you moved closer to his now semi-hard cock, a consequence of your praises.

“I love you and I love your body, Frankie. Let me show you.”

KINKTOBER TAGLIST: @wild-at-heart-kept-in-cage @theorganasolo @pazizz @beskarboobs @lovesbiggerthanpride @randomness501 @din-jarhead @pedritoispunk @thewineandthewomen @phoenixhalliwell @thisisthewayyy @danniburgh @softboidjarin @0callme-mimi @prideandpascal @destiny-tsukino @randeerenae @candywh0r3 @janebby @fastandfeminist @spanishmossmagnolia @dopeqff @amneris21 @mandosmistress @dihra-vesa @jaime1110 @agos-505 @prettylilhalforc @stardust-galaxies @c4psicle @lavenderluna10 @i-m-sherlocked-twice @goldielocks2004 @evyiione @xgoldenjenny @fanficmybeloved @omlwhatamidoinghere @beskarprincessjenny

#kinktober 2021 #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #frankie catfish morales #frankie catfish morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x you #frankie catfish morales smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #jose pedro balmaceda pascal

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cyborg-franky · 3 years

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Congratulations on your 300+ followers! If I could kindly request for Zoro with the prompt "injured in a big battle" please? Thank you so much, and I hope your blog grows even bigger! 😊

Thank you <3 your so sweet! I hope you enjoy this. I didn't know if you wanted to be the one injured in battle so I picked Zoro. I hope thats okay!

Zoro x GN Reader Prompt from the 300 followers event Word Count: 781 TW: Blood/Injury

You hated the waiting, the sitting around, the pacing, the being away from him. You knew you weren’t anywhere in the same playing field as some of your crew mates, you needed to tell yourself your job waiting back on the ship was just as important. Franky had to sit this one out too, fixing up the Thousand Sunny, it had taken too much damage already from docking at the hostile island.

Gripping the railings tightly and watching where all the action was taking place your gut clenched painfully, twisting with each explosion. You knew they were all going to be ok, you’d seen them fight, you’d seem them all come back from things that would kill lesser pirates.

But this time something felt different, and it picked at your heart, the feeling of nausea rippled inside, you held a hand over your stomach. What was going on? The tree’s blocked everything from few. The sounds stopped, the air no longer echoed with gun fire and screaming.

There was movement at the tree line, leaning forward you squint at the figures getting closer and closer. You gripped the rail so hard your knuckled turned white instantly, Zoro was being carried by Chopper in human form. That was when your heart hit the floor.

You watched wide eyed as everyone returned to Sunny calling for Franky to hurry up with repairs and leave. You ignored the yelling, none of the orders flying around between crew members ever reached your ears, simply defeated by static.

Following Chopper inside watching as he laid Zoro down on the bed. “Chopper! What happened?” You asked grabbing his furry arm and tugging, you couldn’t look away from the bloody mess that was the swordsman.

“I’m sorry but you can’t be there right now!” The normally sweet natured reindeer had an edge to his voice, this wasn’t good, he never sounded panicked when it had come to one of the crews’ injuries before.

You were about to argue when Zoro groaned, his face was covered in blood, his beautiful green hair was barely recognisable. “Please!” Chopper insisted, you nodded and backed out the doctor’s office. You trembled, shaking, falling to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest.

Time passed both too fast and too slow while you sat there outside the doctor’s office. Nami had sat with you, arm over your shoulders to comfort you but you couldn’t even form words. You had no energy to cry another tear. Sanji had even sat with you, trying to get you to eat something, even a bite.

But you sat there, watching the sea, letting the time tick by. The day gave way to night, the breeze chilly, biting at your bare arms and legs. Usopp had walked past, setting a blanket over you, tucking it around your unmoving form, offering a small smile.

Nothing stirred you.

The door to Chopper’s office opened, shedding light onto the dark deck, your head spun around sharply, feeling a pain in your neck you winced, first time you’d moved in hours. “Is he?” You asked, voice breaking.

“He’s fine, I managed to fix everything a-and n-nothing is pe-permanently wr-wrong” Chopper mumbled “He just needs lots of rest” He added, you wrapped your arms around his neck and cried “Thank you Chopper!”

“Can I see him?” You asked detaching yourself from the embarrassed doctor “Y-yes just be gentle” You nodded and stepped into the room.

He was covered in bandages, barely any of his body wasn’t wrapped up, you winced, face scrunched up at the sight of your boyfriend in such a bad way “I don’t look that bad right?” He tried to chuckle but even that hurt his body, he winced leaning further into the soft pillows.

You pulled up the seat next to him, placing your hand in his, one of the few things that hadn’t been covered in bandages. “Stop, Chopper said you need to rest and I know you’re the most stubborn fucker on this crew but you need to listen to Chopper and to me” You felt his thumb rub yours softly.

“I guess I can try” You rolled your eyes but could tell form the exhausted expression on the swordsman face he might actually mean it. “I know your always going to fight and get hurt” You didn’t look at him, instead watching there your hands connected. “But gotta be at least a little more careful please?”

Zoro huffed in response, you glanced from his hand to his face “Please?” You pressed knowing nagging never worked on Zoro, but this had been too much for your heart to bare “I promise I’ll try”

“That’s all I ask”

#zoro x reader #zoro one piece x reader #nami one piece x reader #one piece reader insert #roanoa zoro x reader #zoro x you

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littleferal · 2 years

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hi! okay i have so many authors to talk about, and i’m sorry this is so long but i just had to include all of my favourites from this year because it’s been tough and idk what i would have done without them so here it goes!

@letterfromvienna

i discovered her blog a few months ago maybe and i cannot recommend every single piece of her writing enough. however i must specifically mention her ‘cover me’ series and her mand’alor din au. both of these din characterisations are absolutely amazing and just spot on. i’ll never shut up about how much i love her din. i honestly wish i could read her masterlist for the first time again because wow.

@tuskens-mando

i just love eri’s blog so much. it’s an amazing place with a collection wonderful thoughts from both her and her followers and it’s like the best thing ever. it’s such a safe place to talk about your favourite p characters. i’ve honestly gotten so many new headcanons from her blog and i cannot thank her enough for every single post she’s made this year (even if a few did fry my brain lol).

@mourningbirds1

i honestly love every single piece of writing on her blog. i specially have to recommend ‘one three four’. i’ve lost count of how many times i’ve read this to be honest. it’s such a comfort fic for me and i just love how she explores a softer side to javi and how you can tell just how much he really adores the reader. the same goes to ‘a walk in the woods’. i’ve also read this many many times and, again, it’s so soft but also so hot - what more could you ask for?

@softpedropascal

i binged her masterlist earlier on in the year and she fulfils all my frankie needs. with her extensive frankie masterlist, there’s really just something for everyone and it’s another one of those blogs that really just brings me comfort and gets me through those hard days!

@keldabe-kriff

their ‘not my stars’ series has honestly been one of my favourite fics i’ve read all year. i just love how she explores din’s character and shows such a soft side to him. every chapter is just so soft and brings me such comfort. i just love how din always wants to do the right thing in this series. and don’t even get me started on his relationship with the reader’s cat. it’s honestly one of the best things ever. i really cannot wait to see the reader and din’s relationship grow even more.

@mindidjarin

last but definitely not least. this is my absolute bestest friend and she recently just started writing this year. i’m so so proud of her and every piece she posts just never ceases to amaze me. she is another author that gets the characterisation of both din and joel so spot on, just exploring the softness of both of them in such an amazing way. i’m totally biased here because i love mindi so much, but i would definitely recommend her fics ‘morning coffee’ and ‘try something new’. you can thank me later! ;)

——

to all of you: thank you so much for the effort that you put into your fics and for sharing them with us- we all appreciate you so so much. you definitely made our year so much better and made those harder days a little easier <3

hey sweet, thank you for sending in this lovely group of messages 💖

shout out to @letterfromvienna for the Cover Me series (Din Djarin x f!reader)

You’re a drifter from the Outer Rim, accustomed to skipping from planet to planet as you please. ‘Home’ never meant anything to you; you promised yourself you’d never get tied to anyone or anything. Then you cross paths with the Mandalorian in the most unexpected of ways, and neither of you will ever be the same.

AND Mand’alor Din au (King!Din & riduur!reader) found on this masterlist

love to @tuskens-mando for all her spot on headcanons

big love for @mourningbirds1 for One Three Four (Javier Peña x f!reader)

You ask Javier to show you how he masturbates.

AND A Walk In The Woods (Javier Peña x f!reader)

You are walking in the woods when you see a handsome man chopping down a tree.

a shout to go check out everything @softpedropascal writes here

@keldabe-kriff and her Not My Stars series (Din Djarin x f!reader)

An armored stranger shows up at your employer's company picnic, seeming a little lost and out of place. One act of kindness and a chance meeting later, he utters a phrase that upends your world:

"These stars are not my stars."

In what you hope is not the biggest mistake of your life, you offer him a place to stay.

and finally another shout to @mindidjarin for Morning Coffee (Joel Miller x f!reader)

Joel likes the taste of coffee. But he also likes the taste of you.

AND Try Something New (Din Djarin x f!reader)

Din’s first time going down on you. He’s surprisingly good at it.

send some love to your favourite fic writers for new year ✨

(edit: apologies i realised tags in asks werent pinging people so redid this one ^^')

#author fic appreciation 2021

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barnes-dameron · 4 years

Text

Destruction of Government Property

*not my gif

Francisco “Catfish” Morales x reader

Summary: After Frankie leaves for his tour, you get an interesting call from the government about something you and Frankie did before he left...

Word count: 2k

Warnings: one steamy scene, but no smut.

A/N: I don’t usually write for characters outside of the MCU or SW, but here we go. Saw this screenshot from a tumblr post, and had to write it with Frankie.

***

You dreaded the ride to the airport, especially since the person you were riding with won’t be with you on the drive back. At least the heavy gray clouds outside seemed to match your mood. It felt like yesterday that Frankie came back. Of course you both knew it wouldn’t be for long, but now that the day has come, you felt a crack form in your heart.

You glanced over at your husband at the wheel, a solemn look gracing his handsome face. Even when he’s pouting, he still manages to be cute. You knew that he hated leaving you, but he did promise that this one will be the last one. Apparently, him and the team decided on it since Tom wanted to be with his family more, as did Frankie, and the others agreed that they rather retire than have other soldiers be assigned to their team.

You reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it in order to soothe him just a bit.

“Ten months,” Frankie said, breaking the silence and briefly looking at you before returning his gaze to the road.

“Ten months,” you repeated. “Ten months, and then I’ll have you all to myself.”

“You already do,” Frankie laughed, fingering the wedding ring that you were wearing.

“You know what I mean,” you retorted. “Just... no more long trips, no more cold beds, no more worrying if you’ll make it back-”

“Hey,” Frankie interjected. “You know I will always come back to you.”

You nodded, knowing that Frankie was right. He was a resilient man despite his seemingly quiet demeanor, something that you were attracted to when you met him years ago. He was determined, but he was also smart. He never knowingly did anything stupid, and thought things out before carrying out the action. He came back from tours before, and you were sure that he would return from this one too.

Air was struggling to come to your lungs as Frankie parked the car at the airport parking lot. You’ve done this before, but it didn’t make things easier. You looked over and see that Frankie was having trouble to comprehend the entire situation as well. You wouldn’t see each other for ten whole months. He would be in entire different continent, an ocean away from you, risking his life. And you would be here, continuing your civilian life, not knowing what is happening to your husband.

“One more time,” you pleaded. “One more time before you go.”

Frankie looked at you, a smirking stretching across his face before reaching his hand down, and pushing the driver’s seat all the way back. You laughed at his enthusiasm before unbuckling your seat belt and climbing over the console to straddle his lap.

“Okay, we’re going to have to do this quick,” Frankie said, settling his hands on your hips. “I can’t miss my flight otherwise I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Do you think we can break our record?” you asked, arching your eyebrow and flashing him a smile while biting your lip.

Frankie reached down, beginning to undo his belt and zipper of his uniform.

“Hermosa, no me dudes,” he growled before bringing a hand to the back of your neck and dragging your lips to meet his.

You didn’t wait for him to ask for permission, but instead opening your mouth to tangle your tongue with his. No matter how many times you two kiss or make love, you tried to memorize every aspect of it for the lonely nights when he’s away. You gripped his collar as Frankie ground his cock against your core, working you up.

You broke away from his mouth, placing kisses on his newly shaved cheeks and jaw, missing the scruff that used to be there. Frankie’s hands drifted to your ass, squeezing the flesh as you continued to make your journey down to his neck. You kissed and sucked the spot on his neck that you knew drove him crazy. His low groan rumbling in his chest and his tightened grip on your ass only encouraged you. You bit and sucked on his skin, tasting the tingle of salt and inhaling the spicy scent of his cologne.

“Quit teasing,” Frankie panted, smacking your ass playfully. “Tick tock, remember.”

You broke away, ignoring the red spot that bloomed on his neck. You smiled to yourself before pulling up the dress that you wore specifically for this purpose, and pulling aside your panties.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

***

The plane ride was unbearable to Frankie. Well, everything about this trip was unbearable to him, except your little escapade in the car at the airport parking lot. It was beginning to be a little tradition for you both, but that time would be the last one under those circumstances. Francisco hated to say goodbye to you, even if he was going to see you again. He hated to see the tears in your eyes, and hated even more that he wouldn’t get to be with you for close to a year.

The ride was long, the seat were uncomfortable, and the food sucked. It didn’t help that Benny snored when he slept, Pope would listen to his music so loud that Frankie could hear it, even if Santiago was wearing headphones, and Frankie had the middle seat. He couldn’t even get a lot of sleep because someone behind him was shaking their leg causing his seat to jostle around. For the first time in his military career, Frankie was excited to be at the base. At least here he could catch some sleep. He just needed to get through this debrief meeting.

“Alright men,” the General said, drawing Frankie out of his thoughts to pay attention. “You have now what you need to carry out the mission tomorrow. Dismissed.”

Frankie was the first to stand up and begin to make his way out.

“Morales,” the General’s voice stopping him in his track as Frankie let out a sigh.

So close. Frankie turned around, straightening his spine and folding his arms behind him.

“Yes, sir,” Frankie responded, trying to remain cordial while his blood boiled when sleep was calling his name.

“What’s that on your neck, soldier?” the General asked.

Heat bloomed in Frankie’s chest, reaching up his neck, and spreading to his cheeks. He reached his hand to his neck, his fingers settling on the mark that you left. It was tender under his touch, and even if he himself didn’t see it, he knew that it was purple. He thought back to the car, your mouth on his flesh. He thought for sure that the mark would be concealed under his collar, but he was wrong. Frankie licked his lips as he struggled to meet his General’s gaze. Catfish could see Pope and Benny behind the General, giving him a devious smile as they tried to conceal their laughter. Frankie cursed underneath his breath.

“It’s nothing, sir,” Frankie replied.

“Don’t lie to me, son,” the General demanded, his voice gruffer than what it was before. “What is that on your neck?”

Frankie took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the embarrassment. Nobody else left the meeting, instead standing around to watch this interaction.

“A hickey, sir,” Frankie responded, much to the delight of his friends.

Benny failed, and let out a huff of laughter, causing Will to elbow him in the ribs. The General’s attitude, however, was unwavering.

“And who gave it to you?” the General asked.

Frankie bit his lip, looking down at the ground before looking back at the General.

“My wife,” Frankie said.

The General eyed him and then the hickey on his neck. The room was so quiet that a fallen pin could be heard. Everyone waited to see what the General will do, but were all surprised that he left without saying a word. Once out, Santiago and Benny let out their laughter, bending forward with their hands on their knees as their raucous laughs filled the air. Frankie was still in the same position, stuck in bewilderment from the oddity of what just happened. Pope clapped a hand on Frankie’s shoulder, before pulling Frankie’s collar down to further display the bruise on his neck.

“Wow,” Pope exclaimed, examining your handiwork. “Your wife did a bang up job, Fish.”

Benny laughed even louder as Redfly scolded him.

“I’m never gonna live this down, aren’t I?” Frankie asked, biting his lip while casting his gaze downwards, not wanting to look at his friends.

“Never,” Benny confirmed.

***

The house was dark when you got home from work, much to your disappointment. You longed for the times when Frankie was home before you; the lights on, music playing, and his relaxed figure moving about in domesticity. But instead it was dark, quiet, and empty.

You turned on the hallway light of your little house, illuminating the picture that hung near the front door. It was photo of you and Frankie from your honeymoon, his smiling face still greeting you despite the distance. You smiled to yourself, reaching up to drift your fingers over the image. It’s been nearly a day, and you already miss him.

You were drawn away from your thoughts when a buzzing sound in your purse broke the silence. You reached in, fingering around to find your phone and fish it out. You arched an eyebrow as the words “NO CALLER ID” displayed on the screen. But nonetheless, you picked up.

“Hello?” you asked, your brows creasing towards the center.

“Is this Y/N Morales?” the man asked, his voice sounding deep through the spotty reception.

“Yes,” you confirmed, uncertainty evident in your voice.

“Mrs. Morales, are you aware that you have committed a misdemeanor?” the man implored.

Your stomach sank to the floor when it reached your ears. Your heartbeat began to quicken, as panic arose.

“What do you mean?” you asked, gripping your phone tighter. “I’ve never committed any kind of crime in my life. What misdemeanor?”

“Destruction of government property,” the man answered.

“Destruction of government property?” you repeated. “I’ve never destroyed, or even defaced any government property. Well, one time I wrote on a dollar bill but that’s only because I didn’t have any paper and it was an emergency. Is that what this is about?”

“No ma’am,” the man replied. “I’m talking about the mark you left on Lieutenant Colonel Francisco Morales.”

“Mark?” you asked. “What mark?”

The man was silent for a moment, and you could barely hear the gulp he made over the phone.

“The hickey, ma’am,” the man said, his voice a bit shaky. “The hickey on Lieutenant Colonel Morales’s neck.”

You instantly remembered the day he left. You did bite his neck, but you didn’t intend to give him a hickey. You forgot about how easily he bruises there. You let out a breath, rubbing your forehead with your other hand.

“Are you serious?” you asked, annoyance creeping in. “I’m facing a misdemeanor charge for giving my husband a hickey? It’s not like I did graffiti on a government building or defaced a statue. And since when is a person considered government property?”

You could tell that the man was flustered due to your line of questioning, and you were annoyed that you could potentially get fined because of something stupid like this.

“Ma’am,” the man sputtered out, his voice trying to come off calm but still was shaky. “We’ll let you off with a warning, as long as it doesn’t happen again.”

“You know what,” you said, done with the military and government at this point. “Fine. Fine, whatever.”

You didn’t bother to say goodbye, just hanging up the phone. It was the military who was putting your husband’s life at risk, and it was the military who threatened you with misdemeanor charges. Yeah, as long as Frankie was in the military, you won’t give him any more hickeys. But this was his last tour.

You threw your phone on the couch as you made your way to the living room to unwind. You couldn’t wait until Frankie got home. He will be out of the military, and you plan to keep him in your shared bedroom. Yep, when your husband gets back, you’re going to mark him up so good that it’ll be weeks before they disappear completely.

Taglist: @absurdthirst @tangledlove27

#frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #francisco morales #francisco morales x reader #francisco catfish morales x reader #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #fanfic

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f0rever15elf · 4 years

Text

I’m Sorry

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader Rating: T Word count: 1,961 Warnings: Alcohol mention, swearing, drinking/getting drunk alone, angst, verbal fighting, no beta

Summary: All couples fight eventually, but this time leaves you questioning your relationship with Marcus

A/N: This is a fic for the following anonymous request: “ Hi!! I was wondering if your Pedro requests are still open? Cause if they are I’d like to request a Marcus Pike or Frankie Morales piece, where they like get into an argument with you and it’s like super angsty, but y’all make up in the end ((: “ I hope you enjoy it dear!

Masterlist | Ao3

“You absolute CHILD!” you shriek as you slam the door open, storming into the home you shared with Marcus.

“Oh, I’m the child?! You’re the one throwing a temper tantrum!” Marcus slams the door closed with just as much force as you slammed it open.

“Yes, Pike. You’re the child! I cannot believe you right now.” You wheel on him, stabbing your finger against his chest as you glare up at him. “Do you even realize how fucking embarrassed I am right now? I’m never going to be able to show my face at a work function ever again all because you decided to turn into a little green-eyed monster! Child!” Marcus snarls, grabbing your wrist to pull it away from his chest. His grip was firm, but even in the heat of the anger and jealousy you could see bubbling in his eyes, he was still gentle enough to not hurt you.

“And what would you have had me do, huh?! Just let your ex sit there and cozy up to you like that? He had his hands on you and his eyes hadn’t left you all freaking night!”

You yank your wrist from his grasp, absolutely seething. “We’re coworkers! We have an image to upkeep as far as being cordial with each other, especially in front of share holders! Marcus, there were investors there, and your little outburst has put every single deal involving them in jeopardy!” You rip your shoes off, the uncomfortable heels not aiding your mood in the slightest. “All because you got jealous of my ex. All because you couldn’t stand to see me being friendly with someone who use to be in my life. I have never done something like that to you! Not when your high school sweetheart left you flowers. Not when Lisbon sauntered her happy ass into your office, perched herself on you desk, and FIXED YOUR FUCKING HAIR!” Marcus’ nostrils flare as he towers over you, his voice low when he speaks again.

“Don’t bring them into this, this isn’t about them.”

“Oh like hell it isn’t! You know why I didn’t care about those two? Cause I was confident you wouldn’t do anything to hurt or betray me. Because I fucking love you and trust you! But apparently you don’t feel the same way, if your self confidence is so low that you can’t stand to see me laughing with my ex without deciding it’s an appropriate time to throw hands!” That was a low blow, and you knew it, but you were so angry the words were out of your mouth before you could stop them. The two of you stand there in the living room, shoulders heaving as you pant for air. You could hear a pin drop, and the tension was so thick it felt suffocating. Slowly, the anger fades from Marcus’ eyes, replaced only with pain as his expression shifts. You cut him deep with that comment, you know you did, and it hurt to see that pain in his gentle eyes.

“M...Marcus…” Your voice is much softer now as you reach for his hand, but he takes a step back out of your reach, shaking his head.

“Don’t,” he whispers, turning and grabbing the car keys from the bowl as he all but runs from the house. You stand there frozen, hand outstretched as you listen to the sound of the car engine starting followed by the tires squealing as he tears out of the driveway. Tears brim in your eyes, spilling over as you begin to tremble.

What have you done?

The minutes turn into hours as you sit in the dark of your living room, waiting on your Marcus to return. An empty wine bottle sits on the coffee table next to a second nearly empty one. You swirl the pale liquid in your glass before bringing it to your lips to down the rest of it. Your once manicured nails have been bitten down to the nail bed, a nasty habit of yours when your anxiety gets the better of you. A habit that hadn’t reared its ugly head since the day you met Marcus… Two in the morning and he still isn’t home and you’re getting worried. You had messed up, and big time. You know how much Marcus struggles with his own confidence after how Lisbon had treated him. You know that, and you still felt the need to fling it in his face. Words said out of anger, words you didn’t mean...you couldn’t take them back now, no matter how much you wished you could.

A fresh round of sobs bubble from your throat as your hand flies to your mouth in an attempt to hold them back. Marcus is the best thing to have ever happened to you, how the hell could you do something like this to him, no matter how angry you were. You rub your eyes, looking like a raccoon from the smeared makeup, before you stagger to your feet. You wanted Marcus. You needed him. You needed him here, at home, where you could apologize until your voice goes hoarse and it still wouldn’t be enough.

The world spins around you, the two bottles of wine catching up to you as you stagger through the living room before falling to your knees. You cradle your face in your hands, sobs wracking your chest. Please come home Marcus, please come home. You don’t hear the key in the lock over the sound of your sobs, but when you feel the rush of air from the door opening, your head snaps up, bleary eyes searching desperately for the love of your life.

“Marcus?” you whimper, barely audible.

“Oh, love...what did you do?” he murmurs as he shuts the door before coming to your side, cradling your cheek gently. Desperate hands reach out to grab his shirt, now wrinkled and untucked from his pants, his jacket missing and sleeves rolled to the elbows.

“I-I’m s-s-sorry Marcus!” you wail, collapsing against him. His gentle arms wrap around you and he sighs, resting his head on top of yours. “I s-shouldn’t h-ha-have said wh-what I did! I was wr-wrong and c-cruel! P-please d-don’t leave m-me!” you plead, trembling against him.

“Leave you? Darling, I wouldn’t do that to you.” He leans back and tilts your chin up to look at him, paying no mind to the black splotches your makeup leaves against his once crisp white button down. His thumb traces along your chin before his hand moves to cup your face, running his thumb along your cheek bone. “You smell like wine...how much have you had?” You shake your head, ignoring the question as you continue to cling to him, your sobs slowing.

“I love you and I d-din’t mean what I said,” you whimper. “Don go again, p-please don g-go again.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere, I just needed to cool down. Calm down, you’re going to make yourself sick.” He brushes your hair from your face as best he can before pulling you back against his chest, slowly rocking you in the middle of the floor. His hand pets your hair gently, soothingly as the remaining cries slowly abate. “Let’s get you to bed, love. Alright? We can discuss this more in the morning.” You mumble something unintelligible against his chest as he helps you stagger to your feet, guiding you to the bedroom. He carefully sits you on the bed, helping you undress down to your bra and underwear, removing your jewelry before going to get a warm cloth, helping to wipe your face. Finally, he hands you a glass of water which you stubbornly refuse at first. “Baby, please? For me?” You crumble, taking the glass and chugging it. He smiles and takes the glass back before gently laying you down so you’re slightly elevated.

When he joins you in bed you roll to snuggle against him, soaking in his warmth as he wraps his arms around you. The last words from your lips before you slip into unconsciousness are a very slurred I’m sorry.

The light of the day streaking across your face is what wakes you in the morning, and you groan as you come around, your head absolutely pounding. Your eyes feel like they’re full of sand and you can barely open them. Every joint in your body hurts and your mouth tastes like sandpaper. Slowly sitting up, you see a glass of water sitting on the nightstand next to two pain pills which you quickly take, downing the whole glass. As you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes in an attempt to dull the ache, last night comes rushing back to you and a wave of intense shame washes over you. A quiet rustling draws your attention to the door, and you seem Marcus peeking in. He gives you his gorgeous smile, one you feel you don’t deserve as he comes in.

“Good morning beautiful,” he whispers, knowing your head is probably killing you.

“Hi, Marcus…” He takes a seat on the bed next to you, taking your hand.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like shit...for a few reasons.” You look down at your connected hands, yours fitting so perfectly into his. “I’m sorry.”

“Want to elaborate on that?” He asks gently, lifting your face to look at him. There is a pained light in his eyes still that grows when he sees the shame and sadness in your own.

“For everything. For yelling, for that low blow, for...for getting drunk alone, for accusing you of bullshit and...and I…” you begin to tremble, his hand on your face the only thing keeping the tears at bay. “And I was so terrible to you and I’m so sorry, Marcus, I’m so fucking sorry.” Your voice is barely above a whisper as his hand leaves your face to place on the back of your head, pulling you against him. He smells as he always does, like cinnamon and coffee and his fresh aftershave and you use that smell to ground yourself.

“I’m sorry too, love of my life. I shouldn’t have behaved that way at the banquet, and I’ve already taken measures to mitigate what damage I may have done.” You shake your head, pulling back to look up at him.

“Screw the deals. They’re temporary.” You reach up to cup his cheek, your heart swelling as he leans into your touch. “You’re the one I’m in love with, the one I want to spend forever with. Everything else can burn to the ground, I just need you. I’ll always need you.” He smiles at you, that pain in his eyes fading as he watches you for a moment before leaning in to press his lips gently to yours. When he pulls back, he brushes your hair from your face before pressing his forehead to yours.

“We both acted like a couple of fools last night. Let’s put it behind us, ok? We’ll move forward and be better.” He takes your hand and places it over his heart. “It’s yours, completely and totally. I trust and love you with everything I am. I’ll be better, for you. For us.” Your eyes prickle with tears and you sniffle before leaning up to kiss him again.

“I love you too Marcus, so much. You’re my everything. I’ll be better for you, because you only deserve the best.”

He grins, placing a kiss on your nose. “Hey, that’s my line.”

You giggle softly, cuddling into him as he lays you back down to get a few more hours of rest. It’s all ok, you think. It’s all going to be ok. You still have your Marcus, and that is all that matters.

~~~~~

Tag Lists: Permanent : @ahopelessromanticwritersworld, @tangledlove27, @paintballkid711, @lose-eels, @adamdrivercouldchokeme

Tag list is open! Fic Requests are open!

#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #the mentalist #my fic #pedro pascal

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fracturedmotivationwriting · 3 years

Text

Luca had left Frankie with very specific instructions to wake Dexter up every hour. Dex had been hoping maybe Frankie would give her a little leeway and let her sleep a little longer, but that was incorrect.

The first time he had woken her up, she'd learned why he hadn't decorated his room with anything more than a doodle she'd done during a meeting. While she thought the sentiment was sweet, she still thought it was just plain wrong to have a room so plain.

So the second time Frankie woke her, Dexter told him just that.

"You need to decorate." Frankie looked surprised at her sudden command, delivered almost as soon as she'd opened her eyes.

"I, uh, already explained why I don't have any decorations up," Frankie began, furrowing his eyebrows as he wondered if Dex had forgotten their conversation an hour earlier. But Dex was shaking her head at him, a small frown on her face.

"You don't like meaningless crap. I get it. But that doesn't mean you can live like this is a hotel."

"Hotel?"

"No personalization! No personality!" Dex was pushing herself onto her elbows to loom slightly over Frankie. "You just need to find more things that mean something to you. No one should live somewhere and not decorate it. You just need to find things that bring you happiness. You deserve to have a home. This is not a home."

"This is my home."

"Nope. Not until you decorate it. Home is someplace where you feel safe and happy, and part of that is surrounding yourself with things that make you happy. Things that remind you of the people you love or positive memories. Things that show people who visit who you are."

"Decorations can do all that?" Frankie looked genuinely skeptical. In his defense, Dexter was attacking his style in the middle of the night when all he was trying to do was make sure her concussion wasn't deadly. She couldn't blame him for being wary of her ideas. But she was still right. He needed to decorate.

"Yes," Dexter nodded adamantly. Frankie stared at her for a moment, studying her determined face. Dexter did her best not to yawn in his face. She was growing tired again, but she was determined to have him agree to decorate before falling back asleep.

"Fine. I will decorate. But," Frankie began, holding up a finger when Dexter began to grin. She began to pout immediately.

"You have to help me decorate," Frankie finished. Dexter couldn't help the maniacal grin that spread across her face. Frankie's smile grew as he saw hers. It warmed her heart knowing that he smiled in reaction to her own.

"I would be honored."

"I maintain the right to veto anything you pick out, however."

"Well, now you sound like Luca."

*****

The third time Frankie woke Dexter up, he'd brought the first aid kit with him. He'd already made her put the boot on for her leg, but now it was time to change her bandages and clean her shoulder. Dexter propped herself against some pillows, unbuttoned the top of the flannel Luca had brought her from home and pulled down the side of it so Frankie could get to work. As he gingerly cleaned it with some alcohol, Dexter winced.

"Ask me something," she requested, screwing her eyes shut. "Distract me."

"Um, okay," Frankie hesitated, clearly thrown off guard. "What's the best birthday you ever had?"

Dexter thought for a moment. She didn't get to celebrate many of her birthdays. It was just her and her dad, and he was often busy with pack business. So Dexter had spent most of her birthdays by herself, or with the elders of the pack playing checkers. Not exactly how a kid wants to spend their birthday, but her father always made sure to come home with a chocolate cake and some flowers. After her dad passed, she didn't want to celebrate her birthday. Sure, she could have with her friends in the pack, but it never felt right without her dad. But there was one birthday she'd never forget.

"My fourteenth birthday," Dexter started slowly, eyes still closed tightly as Frankie continued to work. "It was the last one I got to spend with my dad before he passed. Honestly, though, we usually didn't get to celebrate. He was always busy with the pack. I think we'd celebrate three maybe four other birthdays before this one. But my fourteenth, he'd woken me up early, before the sun. We drove down to the coast. He had rented a boat for the day. Small little thing, but it was perfect. We watched the sunrise as we ate the breakfast picnic he'd prepared, and then spent the day sailing."

"Sounds peaceful." Dexter heard Frankie opening new bandages and felt him gently pressing them to her shoulder. She blinked her eyes open and smiled sadly.

"It was one of the last days I got to spend with him. He died a month later. Sometimes I wonder..."

"If he knew?" Frankie filled in quietly. He had grabbed her hand, interlacing their fingers, as Dexter had trailed off. She felt him squeeze it gently. Something about the small action calmed her racing heartbeat. She nodded.

"Maybe he did know," Frankie shrugged. "Or maybe, he just realized that his amazing daughter deserved to have a good birthday. Either way, aren't you glad you have the memory now?"

Dexter nodded, wiping a stray tear from her eye. Frankie squeezed her hand again. She offered him a watery smile.

"Yeah. I just wish we could've spent more time together on that boat. It was the perfect way to spend my birthday. I would've loved to do it again with him."

The two of them sat in silence for a moment, still holding hands. Dexter could practically see the wheels turning in Frankie's head.

"Well, I know it wouldn't be the same," Frankie started softly. "But I've never been sailing. I'd be honored to spend a day sailing with you."

Dexter's heart warmed at his words. She smiled, squeezing his hand.

"I'd love that, Frankie. Thank you." Frankie smiled back at her, once again warming her heart more.

"But I'm afraid we can't for my birthday. There's no time to plan for it and it's far too cold here."

Frankie's eyebrows furrowed. He looked almost alarmed at her words.

"Wait- when's your birthday?"

"Next week. Friday."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?!"

"There's been a lot going on, Frankie," Dexter deadpanned. "Besides, I already told you: I don't usually celebrate it."

Frankie was clearly disturbed by her words. She could see his mind going into overdrive. She simply chuckled at his distress as she got comfortable once more in bed.

"You don't have to get me anything or plan anything, Frankie, seriously," she yawned. "Don't stay up too late worrying about it."

****

The fourth time Frankie woke Dexter, it was time to take more pain pills. She'd almost asked for them the last hour, but she knew he wasn't going to give them up. Luca had been very clear in his instructions. So now she happily took the bottled water and two pills from his outstretched hand. She chugged half the bottle as she took them, realizing how parched she'd been.

"How are you feeling?"

"Give the pills some time to kick in, and I'll be golden," Dexter joked, smiling cheekily at him. She rolled her neck, wincing as it moved her shoulder too. She noticed the worried look on Frankie's face and shook her head.

"I'm fine. Just a little sore," she reassured him, but he didn't look convinced. At least, he looked hurt, angry, and maybe a little guilty. Dexter furrowed her eyebrows, reaching across the bed for his hand.

"Frankie?"

"Milena should have never been able to get to you. I should've-"

"Francesco Bellandi, you better shut the hell up." Frankie looked startled at Dexter's words. She'd delivered them tiredly, not angry, but he could still see the frustration on her face.

"This is not your fault. You could not have known. And if I hear you try to blame yourself one more time, I am going to kick your ass. And we both know I could do it."

Dexter was giving him that 'don't argue with me' look, but Frankie could also see a small glimmer of humor in her eyes. She was serious but trying to make him feel better. She placed a hand on his back, between his shoulder blades, and Frankie felt himself relax under her touch.

"I'm sorry, Dexter."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Frankie."

"Then I'm sorry for what my sister did," he conceded. They both knew that wasn't all he was apologizing for - he was still blaming himself - but Dexter opted to ignore that for now. It would take more than one conversation to convince him he had no reason to feel guilty.

"All that matters is that I'm safe now. And I'm here with you. We'll figure out the rest together."

Frankie nodded, no longer looking at Dexter. She knew he was still kicking himself for what happened. It hurt her heart to see him blaming himself for this. But she didn't know what else she could say to him tonight to make him see differently.

But thinking about what had happened, had left Dexter with questions of her own.

"The attack- Luca had taken a bunch of people to the hospital. Are they okay?"

"There were twenty dead on sight. Seven more died in the hospital. Thirty-six injured." Frankie's voice was hollow.

Dexter squeezed her eyes shut, felt her heart seize. The little voice in her head telling her this was her fault. If she'd just been more strategic in handling defenses. If she'd just been there sooner. If she hadn't gotten kidnapped immediately after.

She looked over to Frankie. They were the same, she realized, when it came to taking responsibility. She could see from his face that he was blaming himself too. And neither one of them deserved it.

"Those deaths, those injuries? They are all Milena and Giovanni's fault. Not ours. They were the ones who decided on war. They caused this bloodshed."

"So why do we both feel responsible?" Frankie snapped, turning to meet Dexter's eyes. His face fell immediately, not meaning to snap at her, but Dexter was already shaking her head reassuringly. She wasn't mad at him for snapping. If she were in his shoes, she'd be snapping too.

"Because we're good people. We're good leaders. And when our pack gets hurt, we feel responsible," she murmured softly, wrapping her arms around Frankie's waist in a hug. She felt him practically melt in her arms.

"But just cause we feel responsible doesn't mean we are to blame."

"How are you so... okay?"

Dexter let out a hollow laugh, shaking her head against his back.

"I am far from okay, Frankie. I was tortured pretty extensively not even twenty-four hours ago, remember?" She felt him stiffen at her words, but she pushed on and continued to hold him tightly.

"But maybe because I came face-to-face with Milena and suffered under her hand, I find it easier to attribute the blame to the correct source: Milena and Gio."

Dexter pulled back from Frankie. She saw his shoulders sag slightly. It almost made her chuckle. She understood though. She liked hugging and holding him (and being held by him), and didn't want to stop. But they were still figuring things out between them.

"Did-" Frankie cleared his throat. "Did she hurt you herself?"

"No," Dex shook her head, pulling the blanket closer to her. Memories of the basement flashed in her head. She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself.

"There was some wolf, Stefano, who did all the dirty work. Milena just came down to talk. The only time she ever even touched me was when V and Luca came crashing in. She strikes me as the high and mighty type. She could do it herself, but would rather have the underlings do the dirty work. Doesn't want to ruin her manicure."

Frankie snorted at the comment, a hint of a smile on his face. Dexter figured the last comment would make him laugh. Anything to diffuse the tension growing at the subject of his sister.

But talking about it was bringing Dexter's mind back to that place. She could practically smell the mold. She didn't want to discuss it any further, fearing what other things her body would start to remember. Snuggling into the pillows, Dexter faked a yawn. Frankie seemed to take that as the cue to turn the lights back off. He murmured a goodnight to her, but Dexter was already turning her back and willing herself to fall back asleep.

****

The fifth time Frankie wakes Dexter up, she is starving. It dawns on her that she hasn't eaten since before the battle. Her brain is too tired and nutrient-starved to count how many hours it's been.

She puts on her best puppy dog face and asks Frankie if they can eat. He starts to reassure her he'll go grab her some food, but Dexter is already trying to swing her legs off the edge of the bed. She's surprised by how quickly Frankie rushes to her side.

"Dexter, I can bring you something to eat," he's saying, trying to gently push her back into bed. "You need to stay in bed. You aren't allowed to put weight on your leg."

"I won't put any weight on it," Dexter promises him, slapping his hand away as he tries to guide her back down. "But I am not going to lay here like an invalid. Now, you can either help me to the kitchen, or you're going to have to watch me one-legged hop there myself."

Frankie seems to realize there is no point in arguing with her. He wraps an arm around her waist, helping her up and making sure she's not putting any weight on her bad leg. Together, they hobble into the kitchen. Frankie helps Dex onto a barstool before opening the fridge to scour its contents.

"Well, I have," he's muttering, sounding a little embarrassed. "Chinese takeout from a week ago, some cheese, milk, and an apple that I do not remember buying. I'm pretty sure there's bread and cereal in the cupboard. Maybe some canned goods."

Dexter laughs. "Where the hell is your food, man? Do you not go grocery shopping?"

Frankie turns back to her sheepishly. She notices he messes with his hair when he's embarrassed.

"V used to do all the shopping because she did most of the cooking," he explained. "And I was doing fine on my own, but the past two weeks have been a bit busy."

Dexter couldn't blame him for that. Between Matteo's dad passing, the attack, and the normal pack business... It was no wonder that Frankie hadn't gotten the chance to grocery shop. She offered him a kind smile.

"Well, lucky for you, I'm a simple girl. I was going to ask for a grilled cheese, and you just so happen to have bread and cheese. It's like fate," she teased. Frankie's face breaks out in a relieved smile as he reaches for the loaf of bread.

"Grilled cheese, I can make."

Dexter watched as Frankie preps the bread and turns the heat on the stove. She leaned forward on the counter, resting against her elbows.

"What's your go-to comfort food?" She asks suddenly, earning a slightly startled (but amused) look from Frankie.

"Um," he ponders for a moment. "Anything that V makes honestly. Even before she lived with me, she'd cook me dinner all the time. She's a fantastic cook. Everything she makes just tastes like home."

Dexter nodded, remembering the meals that V had made for her. The girl really was a whiz in the kitchen. Dexter needed to get her Vodka sauce recipe from her.

"What about you?" Frankie's question brought Dex out of her reverie. She shook her head slightly as she focused her attention back on reality.

"Grilled cheese," she chuckled. Frankie raised an eyebrow at her, flipping said sandwich on the pan.

"Why grilled cheese?"

Dexter's eyes trained on the pan, watching the cheese start to melt out of the edges of the bread a little bit. She refused to look away from the pain as Frankie sent her an inquisitive look.

"Growing up, whenever I was sick or hurt or even sad, my dad would make me a grilled cheese. Even if he'd been busy all day, came home at 11 PM, and was exhausted, he'd make me a grilled cheese if he found out I'd had a bad day."

Dexter looked down at her hands. She twisted the ring on her left ring finger. She felt tears pricking her eyes, but refused to let them fall.

"Every time he'd set it in front of me, he'd say, 'your mom wants you to eat this.' My mom died in childbirth. When I was little, I always thought that maybe my dad could still talk to her. I thought being mates with someone was like magic so that even if they died, you could still communicate with them. So my dad saying my mom wanted me to eat grilled cheese, I thought he literally meant that. And then I grew up, and I realized mates couldn't communicate from beyond the grave. But I still didn't think anything about what my dad would say. I figured that was just his way of getting me to eat it when I was little. It didn't really mean anything."

Dexter's lip twitched into a half-smile. Even with tears threatening to fall with memories of her dead parents, she couldn't help but smile at this particular memory.

"When I was twelve, I broke my arm. My dad made me a grilled cheese when we came home from the hospital. He told me my mom wanted me to eat it. I'd had enough with this tradition. I thought it was silly. So I asked him why he always made me grilled cheese, and what did it have to do with mom? I kinda got snappy with him. But my dad just smiled, sat me down, and told me about how my mom was the worst cook he'd ever met. The only thing she could make with success was grilled cheese. But she was also the kind of person who felt the need to feed someone when they came to her sad or hurt or sick. So she'd always make everyone grilled cheese."

Dexter sniffled. She finally looked up. Frankie sat her grilled cheese in front of her, his eyes concentrated on her face. A faint smile was on his face, but she could also see the hint of concern in his eyes as he took in her tears.

"The first time I got sick as a toddler, my dad was in a panic. Apparently, it was the first time I'd ever cried out for 'mommy.' My dad didn't know what to do. Then he thought to himself, 'What would Aida do if she were here?' He realized that she'd do the only thing she was capable of: make me a grilled cheese. So that's what he did. He told me my mother wanted me to eat it because that's exactly what my mother would have wanted me to do."

Dexter wiped the tears from her face. She laughed slightly, pulling a smile onto her face as she lifted the aforementioned sandwich.

"Thanks for the grilled cheese, Frankie."

****

The sixth time Dexter wakes up it's before Frankie. But it's still because of him.

Sometime in the past hour, in their sleep, Frankie had wrapped his arm around Dexter and pulled her against his chest. Dexter had woken slowly, but almost definitely because of the comforting weight of his arm around her waist and the steady rise and fall of his chest against her back. She snuggled into the warmth of his body, smiling to herself. She let her eyes drift closed again, enjoying this moment while Frankie was still asleep.

Maybe he would let her sleep a little longer this time.

#mafia mates #dexter and frankie #fives times frankie woke dexter up and one time he didn’t

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spy-in-the-house · 5 years

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REFORMED SOCIETY aka HARSH PURI

Brief bio of an artist: REFORMED SOCIETY is a project run by London based DJ/producer HARSH PURI who plays everything from Chicago and Detroit inspired house and techno to early acid house. A regular on the London circuit including a past residency at London’s infamous after hour party "Jaded". And having amassed a huge record collection both vinyl and digital over the past fifteen years, Harsh loves the challenge of playing different genres of music depending on the night and crowd in hand. He tries to keep the same approach when producing music as well. His last 7th EP “Bend The Wave” was released earlier this year on vinyl via Marco Faraone and Norman Methner’s label UNCAGE with remixes from Bambounou and Obsolete Music Technology. He has also had previous releases on DRED, What Ever Not, SUPERB, made of CONCRETE and Bons.

without the past … there’s no phuture … these alltime top20 faves in no particular order

01 BOO WILLIAMS: Midnight Express [ Relief Records RR 721 US 12" | 1995 ] 02 MR.C [RICHARD WEST] & TOM PARRIS: Siren _ Vince Watson Mix [ Sex On Wax SEX-001 UK 12" | 2002 ] 03 INFINITI [JUAN ATKINS]: Game One [ A-side from "Game One / Think Quick" Metroplex M-022 US 12" | 1994 ] 04 DUDLEY PERKINS: Solitude _ Madlib Instrumental [ C1-track from "A Lil' Light Instrumentals" Stones Throw Records STH 2074 US 2x12" | 2003 ] 05 DJ SHADOW [JOSHUA PAUL DAVIS]: Midnight In A Perfect World [ Mo Wax MW-057DJ UK Promo-12" | 1996 ] 06 RHYTHIM IS RHYTHIM [DERRICK MAY]: Sinister [ B2-track from "Beyond The Dance" Transmat MS.11 US 12" | 1989 ] 07 PFM [JAMIE SDAKER & MIKE BOLTON]: The Western Tune [ A-side from "The Western Tune / Hypnotizing" Good Looking Records GLR 12 UK 12" | 1995 ] 08 DREXCIYA [GERALD DONALD & JAMES STINSON]: Black Sea [ A1-track from "The Journey Home" Warp WAP-057 | 1995 ] 09 [TOMMY] MUSTO & [FRANKIE] BONES: The Future Is Ours [ City Beat CBLP 5 UK LP + ltd. Promo-12" | 1990 ] 10 PERCEPTION [CHUCK GIBSON]: Mirage _ Beat Vocal Mix [ B2-track from "Crime Report" Underground Resistance UR-021 / Submerge US 12" | 1998 ] 11 RON TRENT: Altered States [ B-side from "The Afterlife" Warehouse Records WR-005 US 12" | 1990 ] 12 PETER GABRIEL: Passion (Music For The Last Temptation Of Christ / OST) [ Geffen Records GHS-24206 US Do-LP | 1989 ] 13 TANGERINE DREAM [EDGAR FROESE, CONRAD SCHNITZLER, KLAUS SCHULZE]: Thief / OST [ Virgin V 2198 UK LP | 1981 ] 14 BASIC CHANNEL [MARK ERNESTUS & MORITZ VON OSWALD]: Q1.1/1 [ Basic Channel BC 04 / Hard Wax GER 12" | 1993 ] 15 TALVIN SINGH: Butterfly [ A2-track from "OK" Island Records ILPSD 8075 UK Do-LP | 1998 ] 16 MIRKO LOKO: Tahktok _ Ricardo Villalobos “Hilery’s Chant Remix” [ B-side from "Seventynine Remixes" Cadenza 045 SUI 12" | 2010 ] 17 NUSRAT FATEH ALI KHAN & MICHAEL BROOK: Tracery _ Nitin Sawhney Remix [ A3 track from "Remixed: Star Rise" Real World Records R WLP-68 UK 2x12" | 1997 ] 18 APHEX TWIN [RICHARD DAVID JAMES]: Donkey Rhubarb [ Warp WAP-063 UK 12" | 1995 ] 19 KERRI CHANDLER: Atmosphere _ Jerome's Runaway Dub [ B-side from "Atmosphere (The Lost Dubs)" Ibadan irc014 US 12" | 1998 ] 20 RHYTHIM IS RHYTHIM: Kaotic Harmony [ B-side from "Icon / Kao-Tic Harmony" Transmat MS-21 US 12" | 1996 ]

#harspuri #reformedsociety #jadedlondon #uncage #whatevernot #madeofconcrete #superbrecordings #dredrecords #bonsrecords #techno #house #london

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creative-type · 6 years

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Confidentiality

Word count: ~4000 AO3 Summary: He was the youngest, most naive Straw Hat, but Chopper was also a doctor, and doctors keep their patient's secrets.

"Any dizziness, lightheadedness, or blurred vision?" Chopper asked as he listened to Nami's heart.

"No, no, and no."

The newest Straw Hat was learning quickly that hearty constitutions were the norm for this strange little crew. For someone who had been deathly ill less than a week prior, Nami seemed to be in remarkably good spirits. But the fact remained that she had nearly been killed by a prehistoric disease, and that regular checkups were a must until Chopper was certain she would not relapse.

Lub dub, lub dub, lub dub. The steady, even rhythm was soothing. It really did seem like she was fully recovered. It was the closest thing to a miracle Chopper had seen in his short medical career.

"Hey, there's something I wanted to ask you earlier, but I forgot," Chopper said.

"Sure," Nami said with a soft smile that made him want to squirm in delight.

"Who's Arlong?"

Lub dub, lubdub, lubdublubdub…The room went deathly silent as Nami's heart began to race, and Chopper realized he had asked something very bad without even meaning to.

"Where did you hear that name?"

The sharp, almost panicked tone in her voice made him cringe. Hiding his face with his hat, Chopper tried not to see that his indomitable navigator (his new friend) was scared.

"Y-you did. When you were sick." Nami paled, and the scared look was replaced with one of horror. "Y-you were delirious. You said something about maps, and that…and that you'd have them finished on time."

Nami's arms went limp by her side, and she stared blankly ahead without seeing.

"You asked him not to hurt you."

The statement snapped her back into reality. Nami grabbed the front of Chopper's lab coat, her gaze burning with anger. "Don't you dare tell anyone. I'll deny it till I'm blue in the face. I'll call you a liar and make you wish you were never born."

"I-I wasn't going to!" Chopper stammered.

"You said it yourself, I was delirious. No one would believe you anyway."

"Nami, I'm your doctor! I would never tell anyone what happened when you were sick!"

"I—you wouldn't?" Nami seemed to remember herself, letting go of his clothes as if they were on fire.

"No, I wouldn't!" Chopper exclaimed as he took a step backward.

"Oh." Nami looked away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Then her hand moved to her shoulder, tracing her tattoo with one finger. "I'm sorry. It's just that Arlong…Arlong wasn't a very nice man."

Chopper nodded his understanding. "Neither was Wapol, but he's gone now. Arlong's not here either, so you're safe." His spirits lifted when he saw a small smile on the navigator's face. "But if you want to talk about it, I'm here."

Nami reached out and touched his cheek tenderly. "Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate it."

With a metal nose, blue hair, and forearms bigger than a normal man's thigh, Franky could never be described as normal. Add in cola-fueled energy systems, air cannons that shot out of his hands, and the ability to turn into a reverse centaur, Franky was downright freakish.

Chopper didn't mind. There were monsters aplenty aboard the Thousand Sunny. Franky and his cyborg body fit right in with the rest.

Besides, the shipwright was proud of his handiwork. Hardly a day went by where he didn't demonstrate some insane feature he had installed into himself all those years ago. He and Usopp would often joke with one another about what upgrades he would attempt next, each more ridiculous than the last.

Seriously, who else besides Franky would think that nipple lights were a good idea?

There was, however, one sore spot, one not-so-insignificant part of himself that Franky deemed less than super.

"Promise not to laugh?" he asked nervously the first time Chopper examined him.

"I never laugh at my patients," Chopper answered solemnly.

"I can't…I can't have kids."

Chopper blinked, unsure of what he was supposed to say. Franky rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "When the sea train hit me, it did a lot of damage, er, down there." His cheeks flushed bright red with embarrassment. "I made sure it looks normal, and there's still feeling, but I can't…"

"Have kids," Chopper answered for him.

"Yeah."

"Is that something you want?"

"No! Not now, but in the future, yeah…maybe, I dunno. It's not…manly."

Chopper nodded his understanding, although he was still amazed he was having this conversation with Franky, who seemed more interested in mechanics and robotics than romance and children.

He put a hoof on Franky's knee and gave him an encouraging smile. "If something, or someone, makes you change your mind in the future, talk to me. There are some treatment options we can try."

"Really? That's…that's super. Thanks, bro. And…if you don't mind keeping this to yourself…"

"Of course."

"What happened?!" Chopper shrieked, resisting the urge to punch Zoro right in his big, fat chin. The bleeding had stopped, but the wounds would reopen with the slightest provocation. He had seen Zoro beaten and bloody before, but the mysterious altercation at Thriller Bark had left him shredded. In places it had been difficult to find enough healthy tissue to stitch back together.

"Nothing," the swordsman replied with the same unnatural calmness he had exhibited since regaining consciousness. Normally when injured he was rushing to resume his training, wanting to excise the weakness that had led to him being hurt. This time was different. Zoro had accepted the outcome of this particular altercation with surprising grace.

It was infuriating, and Chopper was at his wits end. It was moments like this that led him to believe that Doctorine was right to throw scalpels at her patients.

"I. Am. Your doctor!" Chopper exclaimed. "I need to know what happened!"

"No you don't."

Without thinking, Chopper transformed into his full human form, looming over the swordsman as he poked a finger at the one unbandaged part of his torso. "And if you bleed to death because I didn't know the proper means of treatment?"

"Then that's as far down the path I could make it," Zoro said with a lopsided shrug.

"No, you selfish asshole!" Chopper yelled. He had never talked to one of his crewmates like this before, and he hated it. He hated it, because it wasn't even necessary. Sometimes Zoro's pride was as bad as Sanji's chivalry, but at least Sanji had the decency to admit his deference to the fairer sex would someday be the death of him.

"If I can't heal you that means…that means I failed. That I'm n-not good enough for my dream…" Chopper's vision blurred, and he couldn't keep the tears from falling. "I d-don't want you t-to die. I c-can't help you if I don't kn-know what's wr-wrong."

With one piteous sniff, Chopper reverted to his normal hybrid form and sat in the middle of the floor of his infirmary. He cried, not because he was frustrated (that happened all the time with Zoro as a patient) but because he was exhausted. The Straw Hat Pirates had been in so many life and death situations in such a short amount of time, Chopper wasn't sure how much more he could take.

He heard Zoro sigh, and the swordsman joined him on the ground. Leaning back with a small wince, Zoro looked at the ceiling in thought.

"I'm through the worst of it now," he said. "I'm not gonna die."

"B-but it doesn't make sense. Your injuries, I've never seen a-anything like it before. I'm s-scared, b-because….because I don't know what could do that to you, or if it'll happen again." Chopper wiped his eyes with his hooves. "It's as if…as if something was pushing from the inside out. All your muscles and major blood vessels had damage in their innermost layers. Like…like…"

"Like they'd been stretched," Zoro supplied.

"Yes, like if Luffy stretched his whole body too far all at once." Chopper shook his head when he thought of their captain. For once, Luffy had managed to come out of an adventure unharmed. If anything, it was the opposite.

"Exactly like Luffy," Zoro repeated, before falling silent and letting him put the pieces together.

"…You didn't," Chopper whispered when it dawned on him. "How…?"

"That doesn't matter," Zoro said, this time his tone indicating the subject was closed for good. "I'm not going to die. You did your job, Chopper, just like I had to do mine."

"O-okay."

"Luffy can never know," Zoro said. "I only told you so you'd stop worrying."

It seemed impossible, but in that moment Chopper's respect for Zoro grew even more. And to be trusted with a secret this huge meant that Zoro respected him back. Chopper nodded, brushing away the last of his tears.

"Okay."

"Hey, Chopper, is it normal when people talk to themselves?"

Chopper roused himself, blinking sleepily at Usopp. It was a quiet, warm afternoon, and the crew was all worn out from a recent skirmish with the marines. "That depends, I guess."

"Oh." Usopp leaned back on his haunches.

"Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Usopp said quickly. "It's just…I know this guy…"

"Sogeking?" Chopper asked excitedly. Since Enies Lobby, Usopp had kept in touch with his superhero friend, and was more than happy to regale to anyone who would listen with stories of his heroic exploits.

Usopp thought about it for a moment. "Actually, it is. It's not him, per say, but his, er, sidekick. Yeah. Sogeking's sidekick, Sniper Lad, has been, well, talking to himself. He—that is Sogeking—is concerned. Because that's not normal, right?"

"What's he saying?" Chopper asked.

"Nothing bad. Pep talks, mostly."

"Hmm. It's hard to say. I don't want to make a premature judgment when I've never seen the patient."

"I understand."

"But…" Chopper tapped his chin. "Mental health is a spectrum. Health in general is a spectrum. A lot of people like to have black and white definitions of 'sane' and 'insane', but it doesn't work like that, just like there isn't a clear-cut way to say someone is 'healthy' or 'unhealthy'.

"As the sidekick to a successful hero, Sniper Lad has a very stressful and demanding job. If he's not contemplating doing harm to himself or others and uses it simply as a means to cope...Did Sogeking say if these 'pep talks' helped or not?"

"They've gotten the job done," Usopp said.

"Okay. Without knowing more information, I'd say there's nothing to worry about. People deal with stress in different ways, and if that's what works for Sniper Lad…" Chopper looked back up towards the sky. "Who is anyone else to judge?"

"That's good. I, er, Sogeking was getting really worried there for a second."

Chopper closed his eyes, ready to resume his nap. "I'd like to meet Sniper Lad someday. It's a shame Sogeking had to leave so quickly after Enies Lobby. He would have been a real help against Oars. But I guess he's busy with hero stuff."

"Yeah," Usopp said quietly. "I guess he is."

It wasn't often post-battle checkups made Chopper feel sad. Angry, incredulous, or frustrated, yes, maybe even awed if a wound was spectacular enough. But never sad.

His assessment of Robin after her rescue made Chopper sad.

A single, massive contusion covered her abdomen, the bruises a harsh bluish-purple. An abrasion started at the crest of her hip, disappearing beneath her pants. Worst was the bruising on her shoulders. Chopper could still see the individual finger prints from where she had been grabbed.

"Elephant sword, mostly," Robin said, answering the question he was too scared to ask.

Chopper made a distressed noise and tenderly touched a mark by her kidney. It was uncomfortably similar to the shape of a boot, and he was grateful he had already run the tests that ruled out internal bleeding. "Robin, how long have you had suicidal thoughts?"

"Excuse me?" Robin asked, shying away from his touch for the first time.

"You said you wanted to die," Chopper said, eyes misting at the terrible memory. "H-how long have you thought that?" And how long have I missed clinical depression in one of my patients?

Instead of avoiding the question as he half-feared she might, Robin tilted her head in thought. "I don't know exactly how long it's been, Doctor. Archeologists think about death a great deal simply by the nature of their work, and when I started doing more…unsavory deeds to ensure survival, my awareness of my mortality only increased. But actually wanting to die?" A tiny frown appeared on her face, and her eyes grew distant. "Fifteen years, maybe? It's not constant, but during low moments I've at least entertained the notion."

Chopper's stomach twisted into knots. Fifteen years was as long as he'd been alive, humanly-speaking. "Have you ever tried to…to…"

"Not directly, no. I owe too much to too many people to take my life with my own hand, no matter how badly I may have wanted to in the past." Robin looked down at Chopper intently. "Doctor, I'm asking for your discretion in this matter. The others can't know, not after all that's happened."

"A doctor never tells his patient's secrets."

They were silent as Chopper continued his assessment. Robin probably had a few cracked ribs, but there was little he could do for those other than pain control. As he examined her skull, he found several tender areas and a scab where a chunk of hair had been ripped from her scalp. One of her teeth had a large chip in it.

Sensing his mounting distress, Robin touched Chopper's shoulder reassuringly. Her eyes were tired, but her smile was warm. "I left because I didn't have those thoughts here. From the time I joined Straw Hats until Aokiji's attack…I was happy. After digging out of the pit and tasting the sunlight, I didn't want to go back to the darkness. I thought the betrayal was inevitable, and I had no choice but to go back. I was wrong, and I will fight with every fiber of my being to stay with this crew for as long as I can."

Her battered body was evidence enough of that. "Good. But, Robin, if anything happens and there's another low moment…I'm here for you."

Robin's smile widened, and she squeezed his shoulder. "I know."

One of the most exciting things about reuniting after two years was discovering what new things the Straw Hats had learned during their separation. Usopp had his new arsenal of plants, Sanji could set things on fire under water, and Brook…

Brook's new abilities were totally awesome.

"I can't believe it!" Chopper exclaimed. "You got your head cut off and lived!"

Brook took a sip of tea, obviously pleased with himself. "Well, yes. I suppose I did, didn't I?"

"That's amazing!"

"I would have thought you would be more impressed with Mr. Franky's new machines," Brook chuckled. "All I did was improve my control over my Devil Fruit."

"That's cool, but do you know what that means for me as a doctor?" Chopper nearly burst with excitement at the thought. "I have a patient who can get his head cut off and not die. That makes my job so much easier."

"Well, technically, I've already died…"

"Think of the possibilities!"

Brook set his tea down. "I have, actually, and I'd rather not do it again," he said quietly.

"Huh? Why not?" Chopper asked.

"My body was already somewhat durable. A skeleton does not truly need to eat or drink, nor does it have fleshly parts that can fall prey to disease or decay. I've lived this second life for over fifty years, and I am no different than the day my soul returned to my body."

The crux of Brook's problem dawned on Chopper, and some of his elation deflated.

"My body is held together with the energy of the Underworld. You will all age and will eventually pass on, and even when I'm reunited with Laboon, he will not live forever. I've lost those closest to me once before, and I don't want to experience that ever again."

"Oh."

"But," Brook said sadly, "I'm not certain I can die. Perhaps if what is left of me was destroyed completely, maybe, but I've learned how to project my soul outside my body. And obviously it's not something I want to go around testing, on the off-chance I'm wrong. Not yet, at least."

Chopper was quiet for a moment. "You know, Doctorine told me stories of dying people remaining in an unconscious state for over a week until family could arrive to say goodbye, and others who hold on long enough to see their children married or to hold the grandchildren for the first time and only to pass a few hours later. She always thought that people had some control over when they died. You've got a lot to live for, but when your time comes I think you'll be able to let go."

"Yohohoho, I had never thought of it that way. Thank you, Chopper. Of course, there's quite a lot I wish to accomplish before that happens." A grin spread across his skull, and Brook patted the top of Chopper's hat. "Let's not talk of such unpleasant matters any longer. It's been too long since I've seen you…though I don't have eyes…and I want to know how you've managed to develop such wonderful new transformations."

Sanji claimed he never got sick, and technically that was true.

He did, however, get short of breath.

Chopper shook his head as he pulled his stethoscope away from Sanji's chest. The symptoms were subtle, but to Chopper's sensitive ears they were as plain as day. "I know you don't want to hear it, but I think all those cigarettes are catching up with you."

"You 'think'?" Sanji said.

"It's polite doctor-speak for 'smoking two packs of cigarettes a day is going to kill you'. But I'm sure you knew that already."

"Hey, no need to be hostile," Sanji said crossly. His fingers twitched, and Chopper knew he was fighting the urge to pull out a cigarette at that moment. Chopper was very flexible when it came to doctoring, but he absolutely refused to let Sanji smoke in his infirmary.

"We've been through this before. I guess I'm just frustrated," Chopper said. "You know the risks."

"I do, and that doesn't change the fact I'm going to light up just as soon as I go through that door."

"Can't you at least cut back a little?" Chopper pleaded. "No girl's going to want to kiss you if your breath smells like tobacco."

Sanji threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, you poor, ignorant bastard. Why do you think I started in the first place? It gives me an aura of mystery that matches perfectly with my handsome charm. Look up debonair in the dictionary, and there's probably a picture of me with a cigarette."

"That same picture would also be listed under lung cancer," Chopper said.

"Well, if I live long enough to get to that point, I give you permission to laugh at my sorry ass."

"No. I'll be too busy trying to keep you alive, despite your terminal case of hopeless idiocy," Chopper said, managing a smile.

Sanji snorted. "That's something, I guess. How bad is it, Chopper?"

"You're in the early stages of lung disease. I'll make up some treatments, but as far as I can tell none of your abilities have been compromised yet."

"That's good," Sanji said, and the relief in his visible eye was nearly palpable. "No reason to give Moss Head another reason to exercise his superiority complex."

"And there's no reason to worry the rest of the crew," Chopper agreed. "All the symptoms are reversible. For now."

"Okay." Sanji stood to leave. "I'm sure there will be plenty of I-told-you-sos later, but I really need a smoke."

"Good doctors don't say I told you so," Chopper said quietly. "They stick with their patients, through thick and thin."

Sanji stared at him in surprise, unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. "Then I'm glad you're my doctor, 'cause you're the best there is."

Burns were tricky. Really, having a large amount of scar tissue regardless of cause was tricky. The new skin wasn't as flexible or strong, and if the wound went deep enough the underlying areas were affected as well. No matter how cool looking, Chopper was glad when his patents didn't scar. It was healthier that way.

It was, of course, impossible to avoid all of the time. The Straw Hats were pirates, with all of the danger that entailed. But Chopper considered it a matter of pride that he was able to treat his friend's wounds without leaving behind long-term complications.

Which, in a way, explained why he felt so guilty when he saw Luffy's chest. The X-shaped scar showed how he had been unable to be there in his captain's time of need, not just during the battle, but during the time of recovery as well. Whoever had done the initial treatment had done a serviceable job, though Chopper believed he could have done better, had he been there to try.

"Does it hurt?" Chopper asked softly, palpating the edges of the wound.

"Every day," Luffy said in his normal, simple way, as if it were no problem at all.

"I could help with that," Chopper said. "It's the least I could do after I wasn't there to help…"

"That wasn't your fault, Chopper. I don't want you to say it was ever again, captain's orders," Luffy said, with a seriousness that was usually absent from his voice. "I was the one who wasn't strong enough. Me, and no one else."

"But…" Chopper faltered when Luffy glared at him. "It's not your fault, either."

Luffy leaned back, a sullen expression on his face. "Maybe not, but I'm still gonna make sure it never happens again. I'm strong enough now, I swear."

"I know."

Slowly, Luffy's normal grin returned. "I'm not good at very many things. I can't be the Pirate King without you."

"That doesn't make me happy at all, asshole," Chopper said, delighted.

"Shishishi," Luffy laughed quietly. Then he looked down at his scar, and the serious expression came back. He blinked a few times, very rapidly as if he were trying not to cry, and when he looked at Chopper again his eyes were shiny with unshed tears.

There was a second reason Chopper did not like scars, one that was more psychological than medical. He did not like his patients to be reminded of their trauma every time they looked in a mirror. When Chopper was able to heal someone without leaving a visible mark, he liked to think he had helped heal them on the emotional level as well. He would never pretend that the pain had never happened, but he did think that it made it easier to move on.

Luffy didn't have that opportunity. Every day he would be faced with the evidence of his brother's death.

"And we've gotten stronger, too," Chopper said. "We'll be right behind you, no matter where you go."

A look of pure relief coursed through Luffy's body. He wiped his eyes and gave Chopper a wobbly smile. Maybe two years wasn't enough to completely heal him from the events that took place during the Marineford War, but that was okay. Luffy was well on his way, and Chopper would see to it that his broken heart was made whole again.

#One Piece #One Piece Fanfiction #Chopper #Usopp #Nico Robin #Monkey D Luffy #Roronoa zoro #Franky #Brook #Nami

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chardpail8 · 2 years

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3명의 Union Parish와 Madison Prep 축구 선수가 LSWA 클래스 3A 올스테이트 팀을 구성합니다.

2021년 9월 17일 금요일 저녁 Lee Hedges Stadium에서 열린 Union Parish의 Trey Holly 경기 모습. 선수 면에서는 Union Parish의 Trey Holly와 Madison Prep의 Quency Wiggins가 Louisiana Sports Writers Association Class 3A All-State 팀을 이끌고 있습니다. Holly는 2시즌 연속 Farmers의 Outstanding Offensive Player 상을 수상했습니다. 320개의 캐리에도 불구하고 2,815개의 러싱 야드와 34개의 터치다운을 기록했습니다. 그녀는 또한 클래스 3A 챔피언십 게임에서 총 265야드와 2개의 터치다운을 기록한 후 MVP(Most Outstanding Player) 영예를 얻었습니다. 복귀하는 올 스테이터��서 Wiggins는 56개의 태클, 26개의 패배 태클, 13개의 자루, 4개의 패스 편향 및 3개의 강제 덤블을 기록했습니다. 이도티가 올해의 국가대표팀 감독으로 선정됐다. 1번 시드로서 Panthers는 Madison Prep, Church Point, Union과 같은 팀을 두 번 꺾고 완벽한 15-0 기록으로 마무리했습니다. 그는 Ouachita 교구에서 무패 시즌을 기록한 8번째 코치가 되었습니다. LHSAA 클래스 3A 스테이트 챔피언십 트로피를 들고 있는 Staunton 축구 코치 Lee Doty. Doty는 Panthers를 15-0 기록으로 이끌었습니다. Sterlington, Madison Prep 및 Union에서 각각 2명의 선수가 LSWA 3A 팀에 선정되었습니다. Payton Parks-Smith와 Armod Mills는 Sterlington을 위해 이 영예를 얻었고 쿼터백 Zeon Chriss와 Wiggins는 Chargers에서 이 영예를 얻었습니다. Holly와 Blake Ramsey는 Union을 대표했습니다. LSWA CLASS 3A ALL-STATE FOOTBALL TEAM 2019 뛰어난 공격수: Trey Holly, Union Parish Outstanding Defensive Player: Quency Wiggins, Madison Prep Coach of the Year: Lee Doty, 스털링턴 오펜스 WR 샤즈 프레스턴, Jamestown 6-0 190 Sr. WR Jason Barnes, University 5-8 170 Sr. WR DeColdest Crawford, High Oaks 6-2 185 Sr. OL Payton Parks-Smith, Strasburg 6-4 289 Sr. OL Reginald Burks, Lawrence College Prep 6-2 280 Sr. OL Donald Fleming, Lutcher 6-0 290 Sr. OL Miller Leach, 대학 6-3, 280 시니어 OL 매트 브루사드, 에드먼드 화이트 6-4 259 주니어 QB 지온 크리스, Madison Prep 6-2 200 Sr. "Trey Holly, Union 5-9 185 Jr. Blake Saddler, Abbeville 5-10 170 Sr."이야기는 계속됩니다. "Arnold Barnes, BT Washington 5-10 190 Jr. Alec Mahler, St. James 5-9 190 Sr.""Dwayne Winfield, Lutcher 6-3 215 Sr." 국방 DL 블레이크 램지, Union 6-3 260 Sr. DL Javen Gibson, Church Point 6-3 215 Sr. DL Nick Williams, UMass 6-2 295 Sr. DL Quency Wiggins, Madison Prep 6-6 275 Sr. LB Braxton Comeaux, 토마스 에디슨 6-1 220 So.LB 데이튼 시블리, Little College Prep 5-10 165 Jr. LB Jaiden Ausberry, 메릴랜드 6-2 205 주니어 LB Keidrick Richardson, De La Salle 5-11 220 So. 다음 선수는 시니어 상태에 있습니다: DB Armod Mills, Sterlington 5-10 155;DB Ethan Lee, ED White 5-11 175;DB Mandrel Butler, St. Martinville 5-10 185;DB Austin Ausberry, 대학 6-0 195;P Kentrell Molette, De La Salle 6-1 200. RS 트레버 에티엔느, Jennings 5-10 220 Sr. Honorable mention Matthew Melancon, ED 백색 가톨릭;제이콥 귄, ED 백색 가톨릭;에이든 클레멘트, ED 백색 가톨릭;제이든 오베르, 세인트 제임스;하워드 킨첸, 패터슨;로니 킨첸, 패터슨;카일러 폴, 패터슨;다니엘 주피터, 세인트 제임스;제이스 필립, 세인트 제임스;제프리 디드리히, ED 백색 가톨릭;재규어 도날드, 노동 조합;루크 핸디, 스털링턴;체이스 미첼, 스털링턴;토마스 리틀, 캐롤;케일럽 앤드류스, 스털링턴;자이쿼리우스 브라운, 캐롤;노아 데틸리에, 러처;카일러 폴, 패터슨;케본 프리먼, LC 대학 준비;케빈 토마스, LC 대학 준비;자말 길로리, 서쪽 호수;에단 쿤스, 서쪽 호수;잘렌 기드리, 세인트루이스;스펜서 브릴리, 세인트루이스;마커스 두혼, 세인트루이스;하워드 킨첸, 패터슨;커티스 데빌, 아이오와;케쉴론 잭슨, LC 대학 준비;존 바, 스털링턴;엘리 모리슨 그랜트;크리스찬 필레, 에라스;하비 브루사드, 세인트 마틴빌;리즈 도밍그, 에라스;딜런 다본, 유니스;캠든 적갈색, 처치 포인트;태너 리틀, 처치 포인트;사미에이 스콧, 러처;로널드 해리스, 매디슨 준비;드류 허친슨, 노스 웹스터;린콘 로메로, 에라스;타이론 시민, 처치 포인트;케이든 캄피시, 카플란;제이콥 라피트, 로욜라 준비;태너 해리슨, 세인트 마틴빌;제이콥 그린, 스털링턴;제이코비 워싱턴, 예나;에이든 클레멘트, ED 화이트;퀸튼 버틀러, 세인트 마틴빌;세드릭 애플화이트, Bossier; Frankie Bentley De La Salle; Andrew Sanders, 예나;코너 아고스토, 승인하다;데이튼 분, 이오타;로건 르메르, 에라스;켈튼 마샬 III, 세인트 마틴빌;자테리온 로빈슨, 노스 웹스터;데이비드 존스, 매디슨 준비;에드릭 윌리엄스, BT 워싱턴;마이클 토마스, 드 라 살레;제이든 오베르, 세인트 제임스;제프리 닐, 예나;저스틴 웨스트, 부커 T. 워싱턴;도노반 그레이, 승인하다;브렛 슈어, 에라스;랜든 뺨, 카플란;매트 멜라논, ED 화이트. 원래 Shreveport Times에 실린 기사에서 Holly와 Wiggins는 LSWA Class 3A All-State Football Team의 헤드라인을 장식합니다. 토토

#토토사이트 #먹튀검증

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bikelift2 · 2 years

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LSWA 클래스 3A 축구 올 스테이트 팀에는 Union Parish와 Madison Prep 선수가 포함됩니다.

2021년 9월 17일 금요일 저녁 Lee Hedges Stadium에서 열린 Union Parish의 Trey Holly 경기 모습. 러닝백 Trey Holly와 수비 라인맨 Quency Wiggins는 Louisiana Sports Writers Association's Class 3A Football All-State 팀 중 하나입니다. 홀리는 2년 연속 뛰어난 공격수로 선정되었습니다. 주니어 런닝백으로서 그는 320개의 캐리에서 2,815야드와 34개의 터치다운을 돌진했습니다. 또한 Holly는 265야드를 획득하고 2개의 터치다운을 득점한 후 클래스 3A 주립 챔피언십 게임에서 가장 뛰어난 선수로 인정받았습니다. LSU 서명자인 Wiggins는 복귀하는 올스테이트 플레이어로서 56개의 태클, 26개의 태클 패배, 13개의 자루, 4개의 패스 편향 및 3개의 강제 펌블을 기록하여 뛰어난 수비수 영예를 얻었습니다. Lee Doty는 Sterlington에서 올해의 감독으로 선정되었습니다. 1번 시드로서 Panthers는 Madison Prep, Church Point, Union과 같은 팀을 두 번 꺾고 완벽한 15-0 기록으로 마무리했습니다. 그 결과, Doty는 Ouachita 교구에서 LHSAA 시즌 동안 무패를 기록한 여덟 번째 코치가 되었습니다. LHSAA 클래스 3A 스테이트 챔피언십 트로피와 스털링턴 축구 코치 Lee Doty. Panthers의 15-0 시즌에서 Doty는 핵심 요소였습니다. Sterling, Madison Prep 및 Union은 각각 2명의 선수를 LSWA 3A 팀에 배치했습니다. Sterlington의 경우 수비수 Armod Mills와 공격 라인맨 Payton Parks-Smith가 선택되었습니다.Chargers의 경우 쿼터백 Zeon Chriss와 수비수 Wiggins가 목록에 포함되었습니다. Union은 Holly와 수비 라인맨인 Blake Ramsey가 대표했습니다. 올 스테이트 풋볼 팀: 2021 LSWA 클래스 3A 트레이 홀리, Union Parish Outstanding Defensive Player: Quency Wiggins, Madison Prep Coach of the Year: Lee Doty, 스털링턴 오펜스 WR 샤즈 프레스턴, Caraboo Heights 6-0 190 Jr. WR Jason Barnes, 트리니티 University 5-8 170 Sr. WR DeColdest Crawford, High Oaks 6-2 185 Sr. OL Payton Parks-Smith, Strasburg 6-4 289 Sr. OL Reginald Burks, 예술 학교 6-2 280 Sr. OL Donald Fleming, Lutcher 6-0 290 Sr. OL Miller Leach, 대학 6-3, 280 시니어 OL 매트 브루사드, 에드먼드 화이트 6-4 259 주니어 QB 지온 크리스, Madison Prep 6-2 200 Sr. RB Trey Holly, Union, 5-9 185 Jr. RB Blake Saddler, Abbeville, 5-10 170 Sr. RB Arnold Barnes, BT Washington, 5-10 190 Jr. PK Alec Mahler, St. James, 5-9 190 Sr. ATH Dwayne Winfield, Lutcher, 6-3 215 Sr. 국방 DL 블레이크 램지, Union 6-3 260 Sr. DL Javen Gibson, Church Point 6-3 215 Sr. DL Nick Williams, UMass 6-2 295 Sr. DL Quency Wiggins, Madison Prep 6-6 275 Sr. LB Braxton Comeaux, 토마스 에디슨 6-1 220 So.LB 데이튼 시블리, Little Canada College Prep 5-10 165 Jr. LB Jaiden Ausberry, U of I 6-2 205 Jr. LB Keidrick Richardson, De La Salle 5-11 220 So. DB Armod Mills, Sterlington 5-10 155 Jr. DB Ethan Lee, ED White 5-11 175 Sr. DB Mandrel Butler, St. Martinville 5-10 185 Sr. DB Austin Ausberry, University 6-0 195 Sr. P Kentrell Molette , De La Salle 6-1 200 Jr. RS 트레버 에티엔느, Jennings 5-10 220 Sr. Honorable mention Matthew Melancon, ED 백색 가톨릭;제이콥 귄, ED 백색 가톨릭;에이든 클레멘트, ED 백색 가톨릭;제이든 오베르, 세인트 제임스;하워드 킨첸, 패터슨;로니 킨첸, 패터슨;카일러 폴, 패터슨;다니엘 주피터, 세인트 제임스;제이스 필립, 세인트 제임스;제프리 디드리히, ED 백색 가톨릭;재규어 도날드, 노동 조합;루크 핸디, 스털링턴;체이스 미첼, 스털링턴;토마스 리틀, 캐롤;케일럽 앤드류스, 스털링턴;자이쿼리우스 브라운, 캐롤;노아 데틸리에, 러처;카일러 폴, 패터슨;케본 프리먼, LC 대학 준비;케빈 토마스, LC 대학 준비;자말 길로리, 서쪽 호수;에단 쿤스, 서쪽 호수;잘렌 기드리, 세인트루이스;스펜서 브릴리, 세인트루이스;마커스 두혼, 세인트루이스;하워드 킨첸, 패터슨;커티스 데빌, 아이오와;케쉴론 잭슨, LC 대학 준비;존 바, 스털링턴;엘리 모리슨 그랜트;크리스찬 필레, 에라스;하비 브루사드, 세인트 마틴빌;리즈 도밍그, 에라스;딜런 다본, 유니스;캠든 적갈색, 처치 포인트;태너 리틀, 처치 포인트;사미에이 스콧, 러처;로널드 해리스, 매디슨 준비;드류 허친슨, 노스 웹스터;린콘 로메로, 에라스;타이론 시민, 처치 포인트;케이든 캄피시, 카플란;제이콥 라피트, 로욜라 준비;태너 해리슨, 세인트 마틴빌;제이콥 그린, 스털링턴;제이코비 워싱턴, 예나;에이든 클레멘트, ED 화이트;퀸튼 버틀러, 세인트 마틴빌;세드릭 애플화이트, Bossier; Frankie Bentley De La Salle; Andrew Sanders, 예나;코너 아고스토, 승인하다;데이튼 분, 이오타;로건 르메르, 에라스;켈튼 마샬 III, 세인트 마틴빌;자테리온 로빈슨, 노스 웹스터;데이비드 존스, 매디슨 준비;에드릭 윌리엄스, BT 워싱턴;마이클 토마스, 드 라 살레;제이든 오베르, 세인트 제임스;제프리 닐, 예나;저스틴 웨스트, 부커 T. 워싱턴;도노반 그레이, 승인하다;브렛 슈어, 에라스;랜든 뺨, 카플란;매트 멜라논, ED 화이트. 원래 Shreveport Times에 실린 기사에서 Holly와 Wiggins는 LSWA Class 3A All-State Football Team의 헤드라인을 장식합니다. 꽁머니

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