#i seldom hope people get fired but gosh i hope that at some point he got fired

[ineffablefool]

This connection is supposed to be symmetrical.

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Souls of Mischief || Morgan & Caoimhe

TIMING: the recent past

LOCATION: UMWC

PARTIES: @evebrennan & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Two adjuncts square up against the new dean. Is it really a UMWC faculty meeting if everything goes according to plan?

CONTAINS: N/A

Since the dean of the arts and sciences college had gotten his face eaten and the volmugger dean who unofficially replaced him had been sliced and diced, the faculty meeting had to be postponed until summer. With all the deaths and disappearances from the last year, the faculty was able to squeeze comfortably into one of the small lecture halls from the early days of the school, pre AC. They were twenty minutes in and Morgan’s nose was starting to pick up the sour smell of human sweat filling the room. As she slumped deeper into her chair, she found herself thinking that maybe the volmugger dean hadn’t been so bad after all. At least his meeting probably would have been over by now.

She turned to the woman next to her. “Do you ever wish for a fire scare or a cryptid attack during these, or is that just a me thing?”

Humans were captivating for their creativity, and Caoimhe had never encountered anything as terribly uncreative as a routine meeting. Death by powerpoints, a man droning on about grading rubrics and research coming out of New York City. Somewhere in there was a hopeful message about Summer classes and plans for the Fall, but the man’s tone never changed. She felt liable to crawl out of her own skin should it go on for much longer, shifting restlessly in her seat. Typically, in a room so full, there would always be someone to whom Caoimhe was drawn. It was true, meetings sucked the creativity out of everything.

She was halfway through a list of ways she could get out of it, varying from a simple bathroom excuse to complete university meltdown, when a voice piped up from beside her. Ah, better. “Only every meeting. We could make it happen. Any of the above. I prefer bothering them with increasingly outrageous questions until they give up and let us go, personally.” She wondered how long it would take to get him going. If she could get him to give up before the PowerPoint was done. “Ten bucks says if we team up, we could be out of here before he can bring up the next slide.”

Morgan quirked her eyes with interest. Generally, the most she got out of someone was a little indulgent smile (so funny, Morgan; you and your little quips) or a grimace of agreement, because solidarity was the only thing that made these meetings bearable. No one really talked back, much less turned around and offered something back. Morgan scooted closer to the woman.

“Are you serious? Because I can’t tell if you’re serious, and if you’re not serious, I’m going to be really embarrassed when I ask that guy to explain why he chose the font he did for this thrilling presentation and no one jumps in to one up me.” She sat up a little straighter, tilting her head in a show of false interest at the presentation. “If we do make this work, we should give ourselves something nice. As a treat, you know?”

Oh, there was hope for the meeting yet. Caoimhe sat up, finding a grin that didn’t match the less-than-lively meeting topic in the least. She showed more interest in a matter of moments than she had for the entirety of the meeting up to that point, and she couldn’t even be bothered to care. It was so rare that anyone was willing to play along. Most meetings were spent tapping her toes against carpet, or filling quickly sketched staff lines in the margins of her notes. Some part of her felt she should pay attention, given she was new and working on a good first impression, but the meeting was unbearably boring, and there was someone present who was perfectly willing to cause some trouble.

“I don’t joke around when it comes to...joking around.” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head around a laugh, turning back to the front. Displayed was a slide reading “2021 Changes,” and she was certain they’d been covering changes for at least thirty minutes. Freedom was imminent. “My vote is ice cream.”

Her vote was anything that wasn’t another staff meeting. She raised her hand, “Excuse me, sorry. I just couldn’t help but notice you’re using the Geometric theme by Slides. It’s an excellent choice, very clean. May I ask why Geometric instead of, say, Plum, or Spearmint?”

It took the New Dean several seconds to realize someone else was talking. He blinked behind his tortoiseshell glasses at Caoimhe, then at his presentation, then back again. “This...was recommended to me by my assistant.” He laughed affably. “And if you’ll observe, as we move on to the next section of the faculty code of conduct, the hexagons make for a very convenient grouping of text, so you can differentiate between the point and the rationale…”  He fumbled with his clicker and brought the next slide up.

“Oh, actually, I have a question about that formatting!” Morgan called. “The color contrast you picked is interesting, but I was wondering why you deviated from black and white. And why the font? It’s not so great for those of us in the back or with visual impairments. Which, I dunno, considering our disciplines is probably a lot of us, right?”

A few women sitting nearby sniggered.

“Obviously I can’t speak for anyone else, but everything you’re saying reads like gibberish to me. And I feel like my professional enrichment is being underserved.”

Ah, the next slide. Caoimhe was only allowed a moment of defeat before her partner in crime piped up, and the Dean’s initial laughter faded into a look of disbelief. The energy in the room changed. People were shifting in their chairs, interest piqued. Caoimhe could see a few burying their heads in the crook of their elbow, or covering their laughter with a hand over their mouths. She had a feeling she was going to like UMWC. Not if every meeting derailed so easily, not if she’d always have someone so perfectly willing to try.

“Oh, my deepest apologies.” There was a pause, then, while the Dean twisted the clicker in his hands and considered his next course of action. Caoimhe could see the red creeping into his cheeks, and she might’ve felt bad for him, if she wasn’t enjoying herself so much.

“There’s actually a site to help with contrast, as well as outlines of the best fonts to use in presentations. For example, Garamond fonts look very professional, yet are still easy to read.” Caoimhe grinned,  “I can send an email, even carbon copy your assistant, if you’d like.”

Morgan turned to Caoimhe as if noticing her for the first time. “Oh, my gosh! Could you? That sounds so amazing and helpful. Barbara--” She waved down a woman two rows up. “You had a student who was color-blind and dyslexic last semester, right? Did you ever figure out what the best format and coloring was for him?”

“No, that was me!” Another woman, Stephanie Shannon, called. Stephanie liked to be an authority on things. It made it easier to correct everyone else. And so, when Morgan happened to call the wrong woman, of course she had to be corrected. Stephanie launched into a long anecdote about her student and the research she did, and which websites were not at all helpful, and so on.

The New Dean tapped his microphone. “If we could turn back to business--”

“I believe Doctor Shannon is still speaking,” Morgan said, unable to hide the glee in her voice.

“Thank you, Professor Beck,” Stephanie said, genuinely touched.

Morgan leaned back in her seat and turned to Caoimhe. “So, the real question is whether we want to see if his face is going to get any redder or if we want to pretend to go to the ladies’ room and never come back.”

Chaos ensued and Caoimhe barely managed to conceal a smile behind her hand. The careful structure of the meeting falling to pieces around them was almost enough to make her stay, but it was still a meeting, and she was willing to bet Doctor Shannon had about as much to say as the Dean did. The deed was done. If she stayed in her spot another moment longer, her laughter would give her away.

A quick excuse and she was tumbling into the hallway, the sound of continued arguing cutting off abruptly as the door shut in her wake. The amount of joy she derived from the dean’s expression as she ducked out was near pathological.

“Professor Beck, was it?” Caoimhe had grown well-accustomed to starting over, to finding her footing in new environments. There was always a nook into which she could burrow herself, even if it was a box-strewn hotel room rented by the week. She preferred it when it looked like this. Like university hallways and bookshelves, drifting notes from a piano in a practice room, and sometimes people. They were always the hardest. They had interests, opinions, smiles and laughter of their own. It was easy to leave behind a bookshelf or a piano. It wasn’t always easy to leave behind people, the rare friend. Professor Beck had jumped in with the same glee Caoimhe had, and she already found herself thinking about what it would mean to leave. “I’m stealing you for every meeting. I’m sorry, it’s just the way it’s going to be.”

Morgan followed her new friend out. People seldom questioned women leaving in pairs, and she’d just earned some much needed goodwill. When the doors to the lecture room closed behind her, she finally let herself laugh, more pleased with herself than she’d been in a long time.

“Why yes,” she said, bowing dramatically. “Morgan Beck, at your service. I am great at distractions, petty theft, and driving away unwanted attention. My knowledge of literature isn’t so bad either.” She laughed again and sidled up to the other woman. “I would be honored, thrilled even, to be your partner in crime for the next meeting. But first, I definitely want to know who I have the honor of being in cahoots with, and if I can steal you for my meetings too.” It had been a while since she’d had a reason to feel happy at work. Since she’d had a real friend she could do shallow simple things with. There was no keeping the supernatural from coming to her door no matter where she went, but a moment of good, a little bubble of fun and nothing now and then, could be worth a lot.

“Oh, Morgan!” Caoimhe stood up a little straighter, grinning. “English professor Morgan? Likes the Cranberries Morgan?” She gave her own bow, “It’s Caoimhe, Music professor, new in town. Also great at distractions, and car sing alongs like you wouldn’t believe.” Suddenly, White Crest didn’t feel quite so daunting. It felt just that little bit more like somewhere she could settle, if she ever found herself in a capacity to do so. Perhaps there was something to the fog, to the way it felt disconnected in a way no other town had managed. Perhaps there was something to letting herself have friendships in the in-between.

There was muffled arguing from behind the door, and Caoimhe descended into another laugh, moving further down the hallway. There’d been some mention of a treat in reward of success, and the rapidly derailing meeting behind them was definitely a success. “Now, as much fun as that was, I’ve already enlisted you as my arm wrestling champion, how could I possibly expect even more of you?”

“Yes! That’s me! And you’re Vivaldi and Britney Spears Caoimhe?” Morgan gaped. She followed Caoimhe down the hall, shoes skittering in a cascade of delight as she avoided the oncoming faculty approaching the door. “Oh, you’re amazing! You’re like the first cool person my age here and you actually give a shit about your students and teaching and you sing in the car too? Do you also sing karaoke? I just--feel like you’re one swooping in here and making everything here a whole lot better. Let me get you something, a drink, or lunch or whatever people with sudden free-time do.” She caught up to herself, hearing the echo of her own rambling and her unchecked enthusiasm in the hall. “Or, um, a rain check. Obviously. But, you really do seem great and this place isn’t kind to great people, especially when they’re isolated. And, you know, selfishly, I really do appreciate having a partner in crime. There’s only so much mischief you can get up to when it’s you against the world.”

“Okay, okay correction.” Caoimhe matched the same excited rambling coming from Morgan. She talked with her hands. Her mother would grab them sometimes, pin them to a table and say her name sharp, but with a smile tugging at the edges of her lips. Caoimhe never did make an effort to fix it. “It’s you and me against the world now, so just jot that one down. Or...at the very least boring staff meetings. We can work up to the whole world part, but I’m dedicated.”

She tucked her thumbs into the pockets of her slacks. She liked the sound of Vivaldi and Britney Spears Caoimhe, and cool person, and lunch between classes. Of someone who seemed just as excited to wreak havoc as she was, who cared about her students, who liked karaoke, and oh. That one wouldn’t be the best idea, but the rest! Caoimhe would happily get behind the rest. “Yes to karaoke sometimes, no to the rain check.” She parsed through the onslaught to address one item at a time, quick and with just as much enthusiasm as the questions had been asked. “You seem great, I don’t rain check great. But reverse it, let me get you a drink, or lunch, or something.”

Morgan couldn’t fight the way she brightened up at Caoimhe’s assurances. “Okay! Then--” Shoot. She didn’t eat out anymore. Or enjoy most food. “Coffee? I know it’s hot and terrible outside, but we can get something iced. I know where the best places in town are.” And she could actually taste a quad shot latte. “I’ll let you pay this time, but only because it contractually obligates a second outing when I get to pay. And the sky’s the limit there, because while we adjuncts might get shit for pay, I get some very generous supplemented by my unspeakably wonderful future-wife.” She slipped her hands into her own skirt pockets and elbowed Caoimhe, grinning. “I like the sound of that, though: you and me against the department and really boring faculty meetings. Today the arts college, tomorrow the school, and then who knows?”

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Insecurities

Pairing: Sokka x Gender Neutral! Reader 

Warnings: None

Summary: Being a non-bender in the gaang isn’t always easy but your best friend Sokka always has ways of cheering you up. 

Word Count: 2017

A/N: This is my first A:TLA fic! I hope Sokka isn’t OOC but please let me know if he is so I can write him better in the future! 

__________________________________

No matter much you insisted to yourself and everyone around you that being a non-bender didn't bother you, it was a bold faced lie. You hated it. 

Back home, it hadn't been an issue. In the little earth kingdom village you hailed from, bending was forbidden because the fire nation had soldiers there that would imprison any earth benders. Even those who had the gift didn't tell anyone so you never felt different or less than. 

But now that you were with Team Avatar, as Sokka liked to call it, there were constant reminders about your lack of powers.

You sat on a rock on the bank of the river you'd all camped next to, staring at the point where the string of your fishing pole entered the water. It was your job to provide food tonight and after much begging from Sokka for “real food”, as he called it, you found yourself trying to fish instead of forage. The sun was beginning to set, still in the pale blue stage of descent. In a little creek that split off, Katara moved smoothly, guiding water into the air with ease as she practiced a new move she'd been working on. 

Toph was just lying against a rock pillow that she'd willed up into just the right, perfectly comfortable (for a rock) form, shade being cast down on her from another sheet of rock she'd bent into a half tent form. Having secretly been a standing champion in an earth bending fighting ring, beating full grown men five times her size at the age of twelve, she seldom felt the need to practice. 

Zuko was being Zuko. He stood off away from everyone in a clearing of dirt at the edge of the woods, practicing perfectly posed movements as he tried to force more and more power into the fire leaving his palms. 

It wasn't until Aang swooshed past you on a ball of air, sending your hair and the fabric of your clothing blowing in the wake of his pure youthful laughter, that the weight of your insecurities really hit you. 

You sighed, setting your makeshift fishing rod down and wedging it between two rocks. You scrunched your knees up and rested your chin on them, imagining what your life would be like if you had been born with such power. "Hey, you okay?" Sokka appeared from seemingly nowhere, coming up from behind to sit beside you. 

You perked up and tried to shake off the painful thoughts and shrugged, "Yeah, I'm good." You lied with a smile. 

"Please tell me you caught something. I am dying for some meat. We've been eating nothing but berries for days and I think I might die." Sokka begged, plucking at the string coming from the rod. 

You smacked his hand away and reprimanded him, "You're gonna scare the fish, idiot!" 

Yours and Sokka's relationship had always been full of sarcasm and insults but always from a place of love.  As the only non-benders, you often found yourselves paired up for everything which gave you a lot of time to develop a pretty solid friendship. But your idiot, meat obsessed best friend should have known better than to disrupt your fishing. 

Sokka put his hands up in defense, "I'm sorry! I'm just hungry, okay?!" He whined, plopping his face into his hands in 

As he sulked about the hunger you all shared, you looked over, your attention drawn by Zuko's groan of frustration. A tree he was facing was slightly charred but it was clear that he had intended to cause much more damage. He was distracted and frustrated but those seemed to be fairly frequent emotions for him.

Sokka noticed the unusual silence between the two of you and glanced over, chin still on his palm, and noticed you looking sadly at Zuko. He knew very well though that the look wasn't longing for Zuko himself but rather his powers. It was a feeling Sokka was well familiar with himself, "I know how you feel." He began simply, knowing you were reading each other's minds. 

You knew exactly what he meant. It was an unspoken bond of frustration that was only ever brought up verbally when someone underestimated your competence as fighters but it was there. "Do you ever wish you could bend?" You asked, looking over at him.

Sokka leaned back, his usual air of casual cockiness fading into a more sincere version of himself that didn’t shine through as often, "Not so much anymore. I mean, when we were younger, Katara was the only bender in our village so I guess I was jealous that she had this amazing power and I didn't. But I think now I've come to accept my place in the group. Katara and you are the brains. Zuko, Toph, and Aang are the brawn. And I'm the beauty." He put his hand under his chin like a child trying to pose cutely and he pulled his "cutest" face (although you weren't sure if that's what you'd call it - more like cheesy).

You chuckled a little bit, your tone becoming a slightly lighter, "Well, if you could bend, what kind of bender would want to be?" 

Sokka chewed his lip and thought for a moment, "I think I'd stick with my roots and be a water bender. What about you?" 

Your brows furrowed, "I don't know… I mean I know I'm from the earth kingdom so I should say earth bender but I just… I don't know! My whole life would just be rocks. I mean, don't get me wrong, the powers are amazing and definitely one of the most powerful as far as I'm concerned but it's just rocks. Everything is rock." 

"I know exactly how that feels! My whole life has been ice! Everything is freaking ice! I lived in an igloo made of ice!" Sokka spoke animatedly, flailing his arms around to further his point. 

Normally, you might have giggled or rolled your eyes at his dramaticness but instead you became more enthusiastic about your words as well. "Exactly! I mean I lived in a wooden hut but we used to take trips to Omashu and everything is just rock! At least the air kingdom and fire kingdom don't just have air and fire for everything." 

"You know what?" Sokka asked, putting his hand on your shoulder, "They may have superpowers but you know what they don't have?" 

You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to continue his sentiment. "A kick ass boomerang or a freaking awesome bow staff!" He finished, whipping out his boomerang and using it to point to your bow staff that was leaned against the rocks beside you, your main weapon of choice. 

"Aang kind of has a staff." You interjected, rolling your eyes to look over at your friend. 

"No, Aang has a magical flying stick." Sokka was clearly unamused by your attempt to fault his logic, “Just accept the fact that you’re cool too!” 

His compliments made your cheeks turn red and you laughed, “Yeah, I s’pose you’re right. I am pretty awesome.” 

Sokka’s arms went out in triumph when you finally admitted your true value, “Exactly! Besides, we’re better at hand to hand combat than them too.” 

Your head wavered side to side as an expression of unsureness swept over your face, “Eh, I don’t know about that. Have you seen Zuko with his swords?” 

“Shut up!” He whined, exasperated, “If you’re going to keep being like this, I’m going to stop trying to make you feel important.”

Your mouth fell open a little bit at his last comment, “Are you saying I’m not important?!” Obviously, you knew that wasn’t what he meant. He’d been your best friend since you joined the group so you knew that Sokka valued you just as much as you did him. But still, as such an easy target, he was so much fun to pick on sometimes. 

Your best friend quickly backtracked, “Not that you’re not important! Just- agh! You know what I mean!” His face fell dramatically and his arms dropped to his side, finally stilling from their usual expressive flailing. 

You reached over and grabbed his arm in reassurance, laughing at his flusteredness, “I know what you mean, Sokka! I’m just kidding Gosh, you’re so easy to pick on.” Sokka groaned as you pulled him in close, giving him a side hug. “Thank you for trying to help me feel better. I know that we’re a vital part of the team and that we have specialties that others don’t. I just can’t help but feel insecure sometimes when everyone else can bend the elements to their will and we can’t.” 

Sokka leaned into your touch, awkwardly side hugging you back while you held onto his arm, “Yeah, I know. Me too sometimes. But then I just remember how awesome I am and then I feel better. You should try it sometime” He let you go and pulled his boomerang out from behind him, inspecting the sharp blade with a cocky smirk you knew was just there to mask his insecurities. 

“Maybe I should.” You pondered his words as you leaned back against the rock you’d used as a back rest while you fished and looked out at the setting sun’s reflection on the water. Mentally, you took notes of all the things you were good at. Sure, Katara could move water, Toph could fling rocks, Zuko could conjure fire, and Aang… well Aang was the avatar. But you were a master fighter, capable of taking down ten men with your bowstaff alone. Not only that but you were highly skilled in hand to hand combat. Since your father had been a high commanding officer in the vigilante brigade in your village against the fire nation before he was arrested, he’d instilled a lot of knowledge crucial to survival, on and off the battlefield. Things like scavenging and foraging, making shelter and weapons from next to nothing, battle strategy, natural healing remedies, and keeping a good head in combat were all things that came naturally to you. The bender’s didn’t have that. 

Yes, they were amazingly gifted and talented people but they relied on their abilities for all things. You were able to do almost just as much, if not more, without the powers. Sokka was right: you two were total badasses. 

When you looked back at him, he was sharpening his blade on the rocks and then held it up to the light to inspect it, repeating the process a few times. An idea popped into your head and you looked over at him coyly, “Y’know, Sokka, we are total non-bending badasses. But we don’t know who’s the best non-bending badass.” 

Sokka side eyed you suspiciously, “Is that a challenge?” 

You sighed and leaned back, stretching your body out to show how little you were afraid of him, “Yeah, I think it is. Unless, you’re scared you’ll lose.” You taunted, knowing the rise you were getting out of your best friend. 

Sokka was well aware of what you were doing but he couldn’t resist the temptation of a little friendly battle. “I’m not scared!” His voice cracked, making his comment harder to take seriously, “Just be warned. There’s only gonna be two hits. Me hitting you and you hitting the ground.” He stood up, cracking his knuckles and back as he spoke. 

“Oh, is that so? Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is Water Boy?” You stood up too, grabbing your bowstaff and stamping it firmly onto the earth beside you. 

He grabbed his boomerang and gripped it tightly. He stepped closer, his nose almost touching yours as he locked you into a glare-off, a twinkle of friendly competition in his vibrant blue eyes. You knew that friendly competition was sure to come with a “friendly” amount of scuffs and bruises to both the loser and the victor, though you were positive you’d be the latter of those two. 

Sokka nearly growled as he spoke, raising his eyebrow in challenge, “It’s on.” 

[eirist]

Little Bits and Pieces of Heaven

ON OR OFF?

One-shot #: 21 

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T. NSFW. (Nothing explicit, but adult talks.)

Note: I pretty much wonder what topics these two have when they are drinking together. Then I heard the question and got an idea. So here it is. Plus, #6 prompt from the ♣ prompt collection.

And pending prompt requests are still on the works. I get stuck sometimes that's why I write breathers like this one as right now I'm not really happy with the plots that I've come up with or the drafts I've written. I want to enjoy writing it rather than for the just jotting down a story and posting it.

Also, I might close the request box before this month ends. So if you have any more requests just message me.

Summary: "Wow! How strong is this bourbon" anyway?

​"Ok… so lights on or lights off?"

Nami smiled mischievously before downing the glass of two fingers worth of bourbon that was sitting on the counter in front of her. The golden brown liquid slid down her throat smoothly, leaving a burning yet delicious sensation. She set the glass down happily while savoring the spreading warmth on her cheeks.

The man beside her smirked, shaking his head at her question. Zoro then mirrored her action, knocking back his own drink in one gulp.

She waited a beat as he placed his glass back on the counter and reached out for the bottle they were sharing. He poured another round in his glass and surprisingly in hers as well.

She observed him for a moment, before nudging his leg with her own when he did not answer her question. 

"So?" Nami prodded playfully.

Zoro raised an eyebrow at her. He seemed to be thinking for a moment. With a shrug he finally replied, "Off."

The navigator straightened up at that. “Really?” She shot him with a downright curious stare. "Why?"

The swordsman paused for a moment. "No need to bother with the details if it's just one time thing.” He explained casually. “It’s not like you're gonna see them again."

Nami's lips formed an exaggerated 'o' at his response. She knows how straightforward Zoro is. But damn! Even in bed he is all business?

Though to be honest, he kinda got a point somehow...

"So it's wham bam thank you maam for you?” She inquired not bothering to fight the puckish grin that wanted to appear on her lips.

Zoro laughed loudly at that before emulating her grin. "That's all I need. Nothing more.”

"Gosh Zoro that's just cold!"

He laughed again as her reaction entertained him.

"Leaving women behind just like that." Nami shook her head, feigning disappointment as her long, orange locks bounced around her from the movement. "You really are a brute."

“No use prolonging the interaction Nami," Zoro chuckled as he ran a hand through his hair. “It's not like I’m there to make love or something."

"Sanji-kun will have a fit when he hears you."

"So?" Nami chortled at his typical annoyed retort whenever their resident cook was brought up.

“I’m pretty sure you’d do the same… before robbing them blind of course.” He taunted.

“Excuse me! I’d never do it with the people I rob!” She frowned at him before reaching for her drink… her warm, brown eyes never leaving his. “If I rob them I just rob them,” she continued before tossing down her drink and sliding her glass towards him so he can fill it up again.

He quirked an eyebrow at her non-verbal demand.

She just answered him with a sassy smile. “Unless,” she whispered lowly. “They are hot stuff of course. Then… I might reconsider.”

Zoro studied her for a few seconds, before emptying his own drink and proceeding to refill their glasses. “Why are we even talking about this?” He asked, genuinely intrigued.

“Hmmm… I don’t know. But it seems to me you don’t mind having this conversation at all.”

He shrugged. They usually talk about a lot of random stuff when they are drinking—no holds barred. But they seldom venture towards... sex.

Though he wasn’t really surprised when Nami suddenly asked that question. She usually does it once in a while (this does not even compare to her other more outrageous and scandalous ones),  hoping to get some dirt on him that she can use for leverage.

“So how about you?”

He threw back the query at her, almost scoffing at the way her eyebrows disappeared behind her orange bangs as she looked startled. Apparently she did not expect him to return the honor.

“Me?”

“Yeah.”

Nami reached out for her drink with smile. “On of course. Since I’m kind of a sucker for visual stimulation.” She winked at him. “My eyes need to be pleased for me to be pleased as well. I have to see and admire the face and the body if I’m going to sleep with it.”

Zoro brought his own glass up if he was about to take a drink again but stopped, pondering about something. “Works for me if I like the girl.” He muttered indifferently, before swallowing the potent liquid down like it was nothing but water.   

“Whoa! What?!” She had just grabbed her glass and yet she almost slammed it back down on the counter.

“You know what I mean.”

The orange-haired girl pursed her lips, thinking. Well she did somehow understand what he was implying. She nodded slowly. "You mean, like emotionally attached?” She emphasized the word.

When he didn’t bother to confirm her assumption, she snorted. “Like you’ll ever be!”

“Oi. Aren’t you quick to judge onna?” He retorted, a bit insulted.

“Wait, wait! You mean you are capable of actually fancying someone?!” Nami gasped, slapping a hand down on his thigh in excitement. “You actually have a crush on someone?!”

Zoro glared at her. Then at her hand.

But she was far too distracted by the revelation to pay his scathing look any mind.

He chose to just ignore her, pouring the remaining contents of the bottle to his glass. He should draw the line here and call it a night… before her teasing leads to a nasty fight between them that can last for days.

“Hey, hey,” Nami shifted closer to him; face stopping an inch from his own and nose almost touching his cheek.

He glanced sideways at her, as he brought the glass to his lips.

Her voice was low but fascinated as she murmured in his ear; her warm breath tickling and sending shivers down his spine. “You mean if you are able to hook up with a girl you actually like… like someone you are crushing on… you’ll leave the lights on?”

Zoro scrutinized her for a moment. Nami had a really, really interested expression on her face.

Looks like he had unwittingly given her something to use on him. Damn it!

Though he found himself nodding in answer. “Yeah…” he muttered.

“Really?”

“Nothing's gonna stop me from admiring every inch of her body... all night long.”

Nami looked dumb-founded, mouth gaping open as she regarded him. Honestly, she never thought Zoro would answer her question knowing how tight-lipped he is.

But for heaven’s sake that last statement of his…

…was fucking turning her on.

She quickly drew back away from him to settle back on her stool, trying to cover up the sudden surge of arousal with feigned amazement. “Wow! How strong is this bourbon anyway? It's making your tongue loose!” She managed to josh as he chugged down the remaining bourbon in his glass.

“You tell me. You’re the one who started asking weird questions.”

"Let me try it again. Spill some more beans come on!”

“No.”

She pouted. “You’re no fun.” She looked like she was about to go into one of her famous fits when she suddenly laughed. Looking slyly at him, she snickered. “So light’s off huh? Then smash and dash, just like that?"

Zoro chuckled. “You make me sound so bad.”

She propped an arm on the counter and rested her chin on her hand, grinning like a Cheshire cat as she studied him. "Remind me never to sleep with you." She added in a wry tone as he burst out laughing again.

“Really now? Then you don’t know what you’re missing.”

It was her turn to explode with laughter, almost falling down from the bar stool if Zoro didn’t have half the mind to grab her arm and pull her towards him.

“I don’t think we will meet in the middle somehow…” Nami was still giggling so hard, even as she was almost draped on his lap. Slowly she righted herself up, lifting her head to give him a cheeky smile.

“Right.” Zoro made a tsk-ing sound. Though the smirk on his face betrayed the supposedly annoyed sound.

“Poor girls though,” she sing-songed.

Zoro merely fixed her with an inquisitive gaze.

“They'll never get to feast their eyes on you in all your naked glory with the lights off,” she teased him with an impish grin. “Damn, if that was me—”

“If it’s you, I’d leave the lights on Nami,” Zoro cut her off.

With that, he smoothly slid out of the bar stool and stood in front of her.

“Your face is heating up, is it something I said?” He remarked in a tone that was smug yet the smirk on his face was devilishly suggestive.

His lone grey eye raked over her body as her own grew as wide as saucers.

Then he turned away and sauntered towards where their nakama were still feasting.

And just like that he left her alone… with her words stuck inside her throat, her mind in a jumble as the heat that swiftly engulfed her face went spiraling down her body igniting every single nerve and setting her insides on fire when the realization of what he said finally struck her.

Her eyes settled on her still not finished drink. She swiftly grabbed it and guzzled it down, hoping the strong liquor might help bring her back to her senses.

Fuck!

[ambitionsource]

alright u asked for this! semi coherent jack hunter rant time! when i watch teen dramas im usually the least invested in the adult storylines because they often feel like boring afterthoughts, backdrops to the teen drama. and i respect u guys for not doing that because jack would be nowhere near my fave without that. anyway, i think jack kind of faded in the background for me in s1 but that really changed in s2 with the prominence of his storyline. jack’s emotional journey is actually... (1/2)

very similar in theme to that of youth— disillusioned by a restrictive system within which you are trying to have some semblance of control over. without aaac to track down or antagonism with eric, we really get to see jack shine in season 2 as more than just a misunderstood and well intentioned authority figure. he’s a flawed and convicted individual, which we see in s1 in regards to lucas, but it’s shown in full in s2. jack is that incredibly mature balance of logic and idealism that is very helpful for problem-solving but also causes this deep internal conflict we see in jack— trying his hardest to choose between his head and his heart while stuck in a position that compromises both his role as an authority figure and a mentor/father figure. eric may be the one who can’t balance home and work, but jack has to do it the most. jack bears the heaviest burden of responsibility in the show, and he is tested time and time again and every time, he manages to pass and overcome every obstacle thrown his way with a sense of maturity that no one else in the show truly possesses, but there’s more to him than maturity and responsibility. he’s playful and snarky, he’s good with people. he’s also more similar to the artsy inhabitants of aaa than they would believe— jack has hopes and dreams and he wants people to follow theirs. jack is seldom understood by the other characters but he is almost always respected, and this whole rant makes no sense probably!

i am speechless... i am nodding... i am Looking... i am obsessed with this. i totally agree with the thing about not being as invested in the adults in a teen drama (either bc they are backdrops like you said or even worse, like... ridiculous or borderline certifiable and should have cps called or be fired). so it’s really exciting to see you say this, particularly about a character that is so dear to me in ambition!!

like i really don’t know what else to say... you’ve hit the nail on the head. i love this. i’ll just reiterate the point that made me be like BARS: “jack is seldom understood by the other characters but he is almost always respected.” i LOVe the way you phrased this and i think you’re so completely right, and even i didn’t even really think about it that way. jack is the go-to person for so many people but i think often feels incredibly isolated, and i think that’s partially exactly why -- no one really Knows him outside the perception they’ve painted in their head. however, over S2, two characters broke that pattern -- lucas and eric -- and so now we’re seeing jack really get to Connect to people again, in a way that is incredibly meaningful. and even better that both of those people are i think the LAST people jack would’ve expected, eric kind of being his perceived polar opposite (altho theyre more like yin yang) and lucas being... litearlly the perceived anti-thesis of what he represents. that’s one of my fave things about writing the lucas and jack dynamic is how they’re literally the poster folks for like the OPPOSITE role of one another, and yet in their full complexity they have formed a relationship that is unlike any other they have their life but also exactly what both of them desperately need -- even if they don’t realize or acknowledge it for themselves. gosh i really just do be loving them tho....

THANK you for this lena, like seriously. i invite you to come and do commentary literally any time. please say your thoughts at me always. i await with open arms and my third eye open.

-- Maggie