I’m a sucker for a blank slate. Five years ago, I moved across the country and started anew: new address, new zip code, new phone number. The numbers that once defined me for two and a half decades were now different, alien even. My space was mine to decorate, so I did: fairy lights, candles, fresh flowers and art soothed the pain of being away from familiarity. A different, yet same, sun shone in the sky. Harsher, more blinding. It bruised my skin: burned it, then bronzed it. After years of being pale moon glow, my shoulders became gold-flecked like my eyes. My bare arms gave way to ink that spread and sprawled, telling a story I won’t soon forget. Freckles popped up along my jaw like a new constellation. My hair lightened to a honey chestnut, I cut and dyed it ruby red (“it’s hair, it’ll grow back”). 2300 miles away from my past, from my safety net, I re-invented myself from the blank slate I was given and haven’t looked back.
I’m a sucker for a blank slate. I read once our cells regenerate every five years; the implication this brings lives rent free in my head. In three years my cells will have completely forgotten your touch, and with it, the idyllic mornings that were forsaken when you called it quits. Nobody talks about the one that leaves; just the carnage they leave in their wake. How one morning they wake up and everything you had together was no longer enough. The thing that nobody tells you about this? The poets, the song writers (we are especially guilty of this). When we are left, our pain is tangible and becomes a muse for us to sit with. Devastating heartache becomes some pop-y little ditty for other heartbroken to clutch onto like prayer beads. I’m guilty of holding onto illicit affairs like a life raft while I was awash in a sea of pain. Because when Taylor said “you showed me colors I couldn’t see with anyone else” and “for you I would ruin myself a million little times” no truer words had been spoken and until then it felt impossible trying to put words to a feeling that almost, should have, broken me.
I’m a sucker for a blank slate, but starting over - really starting over: packing my car, leaving behind that which does not bring joy, is terrifying and expensive. Traveling, to say, falling asleep in one city and waking up hundreds, sometimes thousands of miles away, scratches the itch to start fresh without the commitment. Airports are transient; awash in a sea of people I’ll never see again, I will order the cranberry mimosa at 9am. It goes so well with truffle oil garlic fries and staring broodingly out at the tarmac. Hotel rooms offer a decadent impermanence: there is something about waking up in a city that I never plan to live in that motivates me to live the best version of my life.
Here’s the thing: I’m a sucker for a blank slate, but what if a blank slate is a state of mind? You don’t need to wait for the new year, for cell regeneration, or foreign cities to have a blank slate. You can start over whenever you want to. You just have to want it.
I have watched the year slip through my fingers, like sand through an hourglass that I will turn over and again until I cease to be.
I don’t notice it until I take a step back, look around: how the afternoons were once ephemeral iris, wrapping around me like a soft haze that bled into an everlasting golden hour. Once more, the days slowly transform into too-quick fading violet hours. The sky an artist’s pallet: 33 shades of blue, struck through with jagged amethyst and defiant citrine streaks as the sun disappears behind looming mountains in the distance.
Just yesterday, the afternoons were long, stuffy, overstaying their welcome when all I wanted was the sweet reprieve nighttime offered. Now the air is sweetly tinged with a coolness that lingers on my skin, a promise of the shorter days to come.
This desert that I reluctantly call home, with its prickly cacti and vultures that circle the sky, will never compare to the verdant forests where I grew up.
Being born in the fabled forest, with its lean trees and geese that I always look to, I was built for the abbreviated afternoons and crisp autumn leaves that crumble satisfyingly under my feet. The brisk air and fleeting light of the afternoon call to me and soon, like a goose that has migrated south for the winter and gotten lost, I will return to the forest that my heart truly knows is home.
Robin/Nami, coming up with pairings of the pirates they met
I haven't forgotten about the prompts! :D
And yeah, this one is a birthday present for my dear friend To0okey. I hope you like it. sorry no AceLu Happy Birthday ♥
“It's sad, isn't it?” Nami remarked one day while watching Sanji going back into the kitchen to prepare some snacks. He had brought them some drinks, which the two women were enjoying while sitting on their chairs and sunning themselves.
The raven glanced up from her book as she hear that comment, smiling mysteriously. Nami took it as encouragement to continue.
“Sanji always does so much for us, not minding that we feel only friendship towards him.” she felt silent for a moment. “But he deserves love.”
At that, Robin finally closed her book, giving Nami her full attention.
“Do you have someone specific in mind for cook-san?” the raven asked, still smiling.
“Zoro.” Nami blurred out before realizing it, making Robin chuckle.
“So cook-san and swordsman-san? A cute couple indeed.”
“I know!” Nami sat on the edge of her chair by now. “Zoro is just so stiff all the time and Sanji can't deal with women without making an idiot out of himself. And they always look so happy while fighting!”
It was obvious that Nami has been watching the two men for a while.
“You may be right.” Robin agreed. “It is hard to imagine them with a woman.”
“Exactly!” Nami called out. “But they aren't the only ones...” she added quietly.
“Really?” the raven asked with amusement in her voice. “Who else?”“Um..” Nami looked around, just to make sure that their guest wasn't somewhere nearby and she didn't need to fear being sliced into pieces. “Law.” she whispered finally.
At that, Robin's eyes sparkled with even more interest. By now, she was sitting exactly like Nami, surprising the redhead with enjoying the gossiping so much.
“Do you remember Eustass 'Captain' Kid?” Nami continued, grinning from ear to ear. “They were so cute together at Sabaody!”
Robin chuckled again. “I see what you got there. But isn't he really close with his first mate?”
“They are only friends! The massacre soldier has a thing with Bonney!” Nami reported. “Or did I see her with the magician?” she wondered.
“I believe it was the magician. But there are rumors about Killer and one of Trafalgar's men.” Robin explained.
“Really? Whom?” she got the redhead there.
“The boy with the penguin hat...” the raven chuckled.
“No way! That's so odd!” Nami had to laugh at that. “I always thought he and the other guy with a hat, the ginger one, were suspiciously clingy towards each other!”
“We will never know what is true, navigator-san.” Robin shrugged, smiling.
“Mhm..” Nami stared at a point behind the older woman. “If you don't see Law with Kid, whom do you see him with?” she asked finally.
“It's not that I can't see them together. But during my time with Crocodile, I heard about him and Doflamingo having a connection. Though it is impossible to tell what kind of relationship they had. Still, for it being a romantic one, Doflamingo was too close to Crocodile. There were always certain noises coming from his bedroom when he stayed over...”
She didn't need to continue, seeing Nami's face turn a bright red shade. She couldn't help but giggle at that.
“The shichibukai-” the ginger spoke after recovering from the image that was set into her head “are all very special with love anyway.”“Are you talking about the empress?” Robin asked, getting a nod in response. Both knew what that meant.
Boa Hancock, the pirate empress has fallen in love with Luff during the incident at Impel Down, but their captain was more than oblivious to her affection. His only interests were meat and adventure anyway.
“Poor her...” Nami muttered, before burtsing out in laughter, Robin joining in shortly after.
I am sending prompts and I would appreciate it if you read the post I mentioned you in before doing any of the prompts. I'll give you an easy one for the beginning. Sanzo, Zoro's attempt at a first date (bonus points if it's awkward)
Last one! I’m done! Confetti!
Sanji had probably never been this excited for an evening to come to an end. It felt mean to think so, but if he’d just spent the duration of this debacle of a date vacuuming his apartment or doing laundry or even trying and failing to kill a spider, he probably would’ve had a better time than this.
He’d really thought it had potential. He’d met Zoro at the gym and they’d sparred a few times. There had been an interesting chemistry between them. Sanji had never loved to fight with someone before, but both sparring and arguing with Zoro got his blood pumping in a way that was rare for him. Not to mention the guy wasn’t exactly a strain to look at.
So when he’d asked Sanji out after one of their practices Sanji had been interested, excited, even.
He should’ve just said no. Saved them both the time and hazzle.
It had started with Zoro picking him up looking absolutely miserable in his suit. Which didn’t look bad on him, but everything about his body language had screamed I hate wearing this, I don’t want to be in this, the entire evening, and that wasn’t terribly attractive.
Then he’d taken Sanji to an upscale restaurant, made a fool of himself when he couldn’t pronounce anything on the menu and had ended up ordering snails of all things which he wasn’t happy with at all. But the stubborn idiot hadn’t mentioned not knowing what it was while they’d been reading the menus, so Sanji had had no idea that his help was needed.
Maybe it also would’ve been better if Sanji hadn’t made him eat all of it, anyway, but he just couldn’t help it. Wasting food was unacceptable.
And then the green headed idiot had tried starting a conversation about politics of all things.
Most of the time had been spent in awkward silence.
At around that point Sanji had asked himself if this date could be any more of a failure. It could. Apparently Zoro had underestimated the cost of going to this restaurant, and then their card reader had been broken, so Sanji had to pay.
It wasn’t that he minded paying, he had no problem with that, but the whole hazzle of trying to figure out the payment method had just been so painfully annoying, and Zoro promising to pay him backbecuase he wanted to pay for the date…
Overall he was just glad it was over.
"Wait, so you’re just leaving now?", Zoro asked, his brows crunched together.
"I have work tomorrow." Which was true, but it wouldn’t have stopped him from taking his date home with him if the evening had been a success. "I’ll call you."
"Isn’t that code for ‘you’ll never actually call’?", Zoro asked suspiciously.
"Not necessarily", Sanji objected. He’d said this to many people at the end of dates, and he had actually called most of them.
"Are you really gonna call?"
Sanji considered lying, maybe that would get the other guy to shut up so he could just leave… but he really wasn’t much of a liar. “Probably not”, he admitted.
"So why? What’s the problem?", Zoro asked, sounding frustrated.
"It’s not a big deal. Sometimes it works out, sometimes it just doesn’t. Some people just don’t click on dates and that’s fine. We tried, we can just move on", Sanji explained.
"I don’t want to move on! You can’t call eating one meal ‘trying’." Zoro looked agitated, like Sanji was being unreasonable or something.
"You can’t possibly tell me you had a good time tonight", Sanji ventured. Seeing this date for the disaster it was should be easy for everyone, he wasn’t even sure why they were still discussing this.
"I don’t know aren’t dates supposed to be like that?", Zoro asked.
"Of course not. Have you ever even been on a date before?"
"No. No one else was as complicated about you about stuff!", Zoro barked, and Sanji’s mouth fell open. That… actually put this whole evening into perspective.
"Wait, really? Then where’d you get the idea to do this whole thing, then?"
"I thought you liked this sort of stuff", Zoro admitted grumpily. He almost looked a bit offended that Sanji wasn’t happy with what Zoro had assumed he might like.
"Okay, the point of a date is not to show the partner stuff you think they like, the point is to convince them to like you. And did you really think watching you be miserable all evening would get me interested in a relationship with you?”
Zoro blinked at him for a few moments. Evidently he hadn’t thought about dates quite this way before. He’d probably thought they were fixed rituals or something with whatever impression he’d gotten from tv or movies or wherever.
"A tip for the future, when you take someone out, do something you like, or something you want to do, want to try out with them. Don’t do something you hate."
"Oh." Zoro was still looking thoughtful, and Sanji was pretty sure he’d made his point.
"So, good luck with that in the future, I’ll see you around the gym, I guess." He turned and made to leave. At least he’d wrapped this up neatly now and wasn’t leaving with false promises of calling or anything.
"I demand a rematch!", Zoro yelled from behind him suddenly. Startled, Sanji turned back around.
"What?"
"Or do over or whatever", Zoro said resolutely.
"… Second date, you mean?", Sanji hazarded. Not that he was particularly interested in one, to be honest.
"Yes. I can do better than this. I’ll take you on a date that’s so awesome you’ll want to rip my pants of right there!", Zoro declared, utterly serious. Which was ridiculous of course.
"Oh really", Sanji challenged, not doing anything to conceal the amusement in his tone. "Aren’t you a bit full of yourself? You could’ve tried to convince me to do that today, and failed miserably, what makes you think you’ll succeed this time?"
Instead of an answer Zoro pulled on Sanji’s tie, and Sanji thought he was trying to start a fight because his date skills had been insulted or something idiotic like that, so he wasn’t quite prepared for the pair of lips closing over his own.
Which made one thing perfectly clear. Zoro’s dating skills might be abysmal, but his kissing skills were quite a different story. Just the right amount of pressure, angle always changing slightly before Sanji had gotten used to it. The cook really hadn’t intended to open his mouth and let Zoro in, but his lips fell open almost of their own accord at the perfect stimulation.
It was over as quickly as it had come, just when Sanji had gathered his wits enough to try and respond he didn’t get a chance to before Zoro pulled back.
"Because I’m a catch", the swordsman declared with a smirk. How could a facial expression even be that sexy? And where had that been the rest of the evening?
”See ya.” With that, Zoro turned around, his confident strut finally making the suit look as amazing as it had been intended to, and Sanji could do nothing but stare dumbly and try to catch his breath.
Well.
That second date would probably be worth a try, at least.
The girl that came by to sell him the six month old iPad seemed distracted and left quickly. Had she been a man, Sanji might have assumed that she was acting that way because she was trying to scam him, but since she was a beautiful woman he would never think ill of her.
Also acting suspicious would probably make her the worst scam artist ever.
Sanji was going to invite her for dinner, or at least give her a coupon for the Baratie for bringing it over personally, but she left too quickly for him to even attempt to.
It took him a while to figure out the whole account thing and to set it up, even though it wasn't all that complicated if he were honest. He felt like the device was rolling its eyes at him, a little.
While he was browsing around trying to determine which apps sounded promising he was surprised by the bing announcing a new text message. Tabbing over he read "Hey Kuina"
Which was, if he wasn't completely mistaken the name of the girl he'd just bought this from.
"Sorry", he typed back. "You got the wrong number, she sold this iPad to me."
A little speech bubble appeared with three blinking dots to indicate that the user "roronoa.zoro@icloud" was typing.
"Oh, sorry about that."
Sanji assumed that that was the end of it and went back to looking at the app store. But just half a minute later, another ping announced a message.
"Wanna talk anyway? I'm bored."
Sanji looked at the message critically for a bit. The age old warning "don't talk to strangers" appeared in his thoughts, but the internet had long stolen that of any validity of he was honest. And what the hell, he didn't really have anything better to do either.
"Know any good apps?", he typed.
———
Coming home from work the next day Sanji was beyond stressed. Some costumers shouldn't even be allowed on the street with how insane they were, and as the sous-chef he was, of course, at the center of their ire, when really there had been absolutely nothing wrong with that couple's food.
He felt like ranting, but he didn't really want to bother any of his friends. So instead he plopped his feet up, took out his new iPad and then slashed merrily at flying fruit for a bit. Roronoa had recommended that game, and even if there was barely anything to do in there it was oddly soothing.
Didn't make him stop feeling like ranting though.
He didn't want to bother any of his friends, but what about a random stranger in his tablet?
"Hey, do you like people?", Sanji sent. He wasn't even sure if Roronoa or whatever his real name was was online, but it was barely half a minute until he received the reply.
"Not overly."
"Wanna listen to me rant about how shitty they are?"
————————
It was amazing how quickly it had become routine. Go home, write some messages to Roronoa, end up talking way longer than expected, go to bed, go to work, rinse, repeat.
He'd found out that Rorona was a fitness instructor of all things, and he'd thoughtlessly teased him about it a whole lot more than he would've had he been someone Sanji knew personally. Roronoa had countered with a swipe at how girly a profession cooking was, and they'd just called each other increasingly creative insults the rest of the night.
For a while Sanji had been pushing it, trying to see how long until his mystery contact got too annoyed with him and gave up. But Roronoa had just given as good as he got.
Sanji never would've pictured himself as a person who likes arguing with people on the internet, but now he found himself looking forward to talking to the guy every night.
And he was getting quite curious about who it really was he was talking to, there.
————————
"Do you think the entire world's been explored already? Do you think there's anything left to find on this planet that no one's found yet and put on Google Maps?", Sanji typed.
"Well people think there isn't, but people are wrong all the time. Who knows, maybe they'll find a whole other continent one day."
Sanji nodded his head at the iPad, not caring that Roronoa couldn't see that.
"Why do you ask?", the new message popped up.
Sanji let out a sigh. He'd had a particularly bad day, he'd mentioned his dream to someone he'd known for several years and that guy had laughed in his face for how stupid it was. Maybe he was right. Maybe Sanji was insane for thinking anything was out there, still.
But it didn't feel like he was wrong.
He just wished he could stop letting it get to him when people belittled his dream.
"Something wrong?", Roronoa asked after several minutes of no new messages.
Sanji wasn't sure whether to tell him. Getting laughed at twice in one day for his dream wasn't something that he thought he could handle. But then he couldn't see Roronoa, so even if he did laugh, Sanji wouldn't know.
"Have you ever heard of All Blue?"
"No."
"It's an ocean where there's fish from every other ocean. It's where all the different sea life comes together. It's supposed to be a paradise for cooks. Well it's mostly a legend, but I want to find it, I believe it exists."
The moment after he hit send he felt like he'd made a huge mistake. What if Roronoa would stop talking to him now for being a crazy person? He watched the little grey speech bubble with trepidation as the other guy typed out his response.
"Sounds nice."
"It doesn't bother you that I believe in a magical ocean that there's no evidence for?"
"People believe in crazier stuff without evidence. It's not any more far fetched than a magical man in the sky controlling our lives, and no one bats an eyelash at people who believe that."
Sanji had to snort at that.
"True, I suppose." And then he added, "It's my dream. I want to find it, it's my goal."
"I'm sure you will."
———————
"Wanna meet up to hang out sometime?" Sanji wasn't sure if that was a good idea. He didn't even know where Roronoa lived, it might not be possible, but if he was friends with the girl who'd sold Sanji the iPad, who lived in this town, chances were he'd be close by, too.
"I can't" The reply came almost immediately and Sanji was quite miffed at reading it. If anyone else had said that he'd probably have accepted it, but this was a guy he'd spent an entire evening exchanging variations on "shithead" with, so fuck being delicate and respecting his feelings. An explanation was the least the idiot fitness trainer could offer.
"I didn't even say when, yet!"
"I know. I'm sorry, I'd really want to, but I can't."
"Why, do you live in Antarctica or something?"
"Or something."
The rest of the evening Roronoa didn't reply to any of Sanji's messages.
————————
Was he being a stalker? Was calling around and asking too far? Sanji wasn't sure, but he'd already dialed the number and the dial tone was in his ear, so it was too late for second thoughts, anyway. Hanging up on a lady just wouldn't do.
"Hey, here's Kuina." Sanji was glad he was sitting down, because just hearing her lovely voice made his knees want to imitate cooked spaghetti.
"Hello, here's Sanji, the guy who bought the iPad", Sanji introduced himself.
"Oh, hi. Was there a problem with it, is something broken?", Kuina asked, sounding slightly worried.
"No, not at all, it's been working perfectly. I just have one question. Do you know a guy with the ID Roronoa.Zoro?"
The line was quiet for a moment, and when Kuina finally answered her voice sounded different than before.
"He's the… former owner of that iPad. Were there still files of his on there? Sorry I thought I'd wiped it all."
"It's no problem, I was just wondering", Sanji reassured her. "How come you sold his iPad? Ex-Boyfriend?" If that was the case and the guy had broken poor Kuina-san's heart there'd be hell to pay.
"No, he's… he was my foster brother. He was in an accident a few months ago, he died… we don't have that much money, that's why we sold it, we weren't gonna use it anymore, anyway…"
"Oh my god I'm so sorry", Sanji said almost automatically as his eyes widened.
"It's… thanks", she said with a sigh. He felt like an asshole for bringing that up to her, but mostly his head was spinning because… dead?
"So if there's a problem with the iPad, we'll…"
"No, no problem, I'm sorry I bothered you and brought that up… my condolences." And with that Sanji hung up because he honestly didn't think he'd be able to keep carrying on a conversation. And he also felt incredibly bad for making Kuina-chan relive something painful to her.
And he'd spent the last few months texting a ghost apparently. He was friends with a ghost…? Or maybe some asshole impersonation a dead guy… but why?
Well at the very least being dead was a very good excuse for not being able to meet up…
But dead texting? What? A haunted iPad? Did something like that even exist?
He'd befriended a ghost and never known… He'd even started kind of liking that ghost…
His gaze drifted to the iPad lying innocently on his end table. He rushed over and typed a message, desperate to find out if this was some tasteless prank or something unworldly…
But even weeks and many many messages later he didn't receive a single response anymore.
Sanzo, Sanji's nosebleeds now happen whenever Zoro's chest is covered
Maybe he should just ask Chopper to amputate his nose. That would probably cause less trouble in the long run.
But of course he needed his sense of smell intact for cooking so that wasn’t really an option.
Maybe there was some therapy he could do to stop all the perverted thoughts?
It was bad enough to be spewing red like a fire hydrant in the presence of beautiful women, but this? This was completely insufferable. Inexcusable. Made him hate himself and the cause for his affliction with a burning passion.
At least the girls were around so he could play it off to be about them, but it looked like the swordsman knew better, judging from that infernal smirk he was wearing at least.
But Sanji really hadn’t known it advance that it would affect him this way. All that had happened was Nami insisting Zoro put on a shirt as they were nearing the next winter island, because she didn’t want to pay for it if he used up all their stock of cold medicine and they had to replenish.
Reasonable, really, just like all suggestions made by the beautiful navigator.
But then Zoro had wrenched the piece of cloth over his head and suddenly Sanji’s head had been filled with images of ripping it off him later and before he’d known his shirt was covered in fresh spots of blood.
Zoro was grinning triumphantly and how did he even know? Was he a mind reader or something?
Sanji just grumbled something under his breath and stuffed a wad of tissues up his nose.
His pride demanded he at least avoid needing another blood transfusion over this.
"Just go to doessojima and deliver these documents", Izo had said. Ace had interpreted that as making them to something boring as a punishment for losing their bet, but Marco had known the other commander longer. He'd known there was a catch. He'd just kown.
What was even with that island, and how had Izo even known? Okay stupid question, if anyone was gonna know that there was an island on the Grand Line dedicated to sadomasochism it was that guy.
Why you had to change into more "native attire" to deliver some documents that would only reach an accontant anyway was completely beyond Marco. Damn it, they should've resisted, but after they'd handed him a studded cap and Ace a tight fitting leather jacket he hadn't taken much issue with it.
And now he was walking around in a top that only consisted of leather straps and would probably fall off soon, not that he minded being shirtless, but…
Yeah well, butt, that was the problem, wasn't it?
Seriously who even came up with the idea of making pants with a huge hole around the ass? And why?
Okay he had some theories as to why.
But that didn't make it okay to put the object of Marco's secret crush for months in them. It also didn't make it okay that Ace happened to be walking in front of him the entire way through the depraved cave. With all its whips on the walls, odd torture devices… was that a sex swing? Or a regular swing? Probably the former.
But the clothes and the implements weren't the worst part, not nearly.
It was the inhabitants.
Who all seemed to be just as enraptured by Ace's behind as Marco himself was, and that was cleary not. okay.
He sent them all dirty looks, willing them to just resume groping each other rather than think about groping Ace. That was Marco's job.
Except that he hadn't said anything about his desire to do so yet to Ace, and wasn't really planning to, because what if the fiery brunet was repulsed by that and would never speak to him again?
Why oh why had he ever confessed about his crush drunkenly to Izo of all people? Anyone, of all people? Since Izo totally would've found out no matter who had been told initially.
He barely paid attention as Ace politely delivered the documents to the accountant, a girl with purple hair and red glasses. He definitely paid attention when Ace turned around to leave and she stared at his backside with a starry eyed look on her face, probably close to drooling.
"Oh… you think he'd tie me up, pour hot melted butter over my buttocks and then attach an elektro shocker to my nipples? Oh actually I'd prefer if Gin-san did that… But your friend is really attractive", she said, looking off into the distance, probably happily imagining her creepy ass scenario.
"Stay away from him", Marco said with more venom than intended. He was pretty high strung at this point.
"Oh don't worry, we can all see that he's yours. Doesn't hurt to appreciate the view, though", she said dismissively.
"Wait what? He's not mine, we're just nakama."
"But you want to jump him and bend him over the nearest convenient object to fuck his brains out, right?" She sounded so innocent while asking that it sounded even more wrong.
"Wha… that's not… you don't…" Marco tried to deny it, but he knew he was failing because well… She wasn't wrong. It was those stupid pant's fault, though, he usually had his fantasies under much better control than this.
"Everyone sees that", she said conspiratorially. "Including him."
That had Marco freeze and stare at her in horror. Had he been this obvious? Had he made Ace uncomfortable? That was never his intention, whatever crush he had was always second to how important their bond as nakama was to him. That was why he'd never intended to say anything. God he hoped he hadn't ruined it.
He looked back across the cave where Ace was chatting amiably with someone wearing a thumbscrew for whatever reason. He seemed unfazed by it all, maybe he could tolerate this…
But then Ace did something completely unexpected.
"You coming, Marco?", he called. "Or do you want to stay here a bit and take care of that together?"
And then he winked at Marco, and wriggled his still very much uncovered butt in his direction.
And that was the point where Marco's brain melted out of his ears for all the coherence he had left after that.
(I watched the last movie only, was confused about who everyone was and forgot everything about it quickly... so this is more or less random)
Smoker was annoyed. Not that that was such a new occurrence. One time in class he'd told his students how annoyed he was and they all stared at him with big eyes and one of them was brave enough to ask if that had ever not been the case.
Which really wasn't fair, because he wasn't annoyed all the time. Having to deal with bratty teenagers all day and not even being allowed to smoke a cigar would make anyone cranky. One cigar couldn't be that bad, could it? He'd even hold off on the second one.
The teenagers at this school were also the most annoying one's he'd met and he wasn't new at this job. You could point out any teenager to Smoker and he'd show you an obnoxious person. This High School however, took the cake. Instead of shouting each other and bursting into tears in toilet stalls this group of delinquents preferred expressing the problems their overflowing emotions gave them differently.
And not just singing a song from the radio, no, they improvised huge muscial numbers with props and background dancers, perfectly coordinated even if they couldn't possibly have been prepared for that.
The first week of classes after he'd started teaching here he'd been impressed.
But it had gotten tiresome oh so quickly.
Starting with people being late because they had to sing about their heartbreak, trash in the hallways from confetti canon explosions to people getting up suddenly in the middle of class declaring they had to background dance somewhere. It was completely insane and apparently he was the only one who minded. Most of the rest of the staff seemed to have little to no problem with it, many were even supportive.
Including the principal, who'd explicitly forbidden him to fail students for lack of attendance due to dance numbers. At this rate some of them would finish his history class without even knowing how many world wars had occurred thus far.
Such as the young social studies teacher Mr. Portgas who let all of his students call him "Ace". Who had just entered the cafeteria. Smoker had just been surveying the wreckage from another big dance number that was already being cleared away by the cleaning staff who seemed to have absolutely no problem with it.
"Why the long face, Smokey?", he asked. Smoker had asked him from refraining to use that nickname roughly a million times and it had never helped, so he would probably have to resign himself to being called that.
"Oh I'm just thinking how I should've stayed in the navy instead of becoming a teacher. This school is going to drive me insane."
"Aw come on, it's not that bad, is it? A school full of motivated students who love expressing themselves creatively, isn't that exactly the sort of young minds we love to be teaching?", Portgas asked with a grin.
"Pretty sure they're not actually learning anything here, what with never being in class and all", Smoker complained. He took out a cigar and fiddled with it, hoping it would make him feel a little less high strung.
"Maybe you should try being on their wave length more. If you burst out in song in class at least once I promise they'll be more attentive", Portgas said with a smirk.
"I don't sing", Smoker said, crossing his arms.
"And why not? You have such a nice speaking voice, I bet your singing would be great", Ace said, his smirk growing even wider. Was he coming on to him? Smoker had had that impression before, only to shake it off as ridiculous each time. And it was still ridiculous, of course. Some people were just naturally flirty, it didn't mean anything, and being into another teacher who was nearly ten years younger than him wasn't acceptable anyway.
Not that he was into him, it just wouldn't be acceptable if he were. You know, hypothetically.
"I'm trying to teach them stuff, the curriculum is tight enough as it is. I don't have time for silly singing", Smoker said resolutely. That he wasn't all that confident in his singing skills was a factor that the younger teacher didn't need to know anything about.
"Teaching is more than yelling facts at students, letting lose a little would probably convince them to be on your side more. If you do it right you might even get them to sing backing vocals for you."
"I don't yell facts at them. I just talk loudly enough for them to hear me over the sounds of their raging hormone levels", Smoker declared. "And that infernal singing. Why do they even need that? Can't they just talk to each other, or send text messages to express themselves? I thought kids all have those intelligent phones these days."
Ace laughed at that. "It's like you're trying to be old on purpose. And you know, I think music has some advantages for expressing yourself. It's more… personal, more intense in a way", Portgas said, inching closer to Smoker, still with that infernal smirk on his face.
"Is that so?", Smoker asked disinterestedly. Maybe not the maximum level of disinterested since Ace was close enough to see the shape of his abdominal muscles through his tight fitting shirt…
Instead of answering, Ace just leaned a little closer, confusing Smoker for a moment, before he started singing in a low voice.
"Come on baby light my fire", Ace leaned close to Smoker's ear, singing the song slower and lower than it usually was and it sounded almost… sinful.
"Come on baby light my fire
Try to set the night on fire, yeah"
The light around them seemed to dim, almost as if a spotlight was shining on them, making the rest of the world disappear aside from him and the social studies teacher. It didn't really have to ever return as far as Smoker was concerned.
Wait, was there accompaniment playing?
"The time to hesitate is through,
No time to wallow in the mire
Try now we can only lose
And our love become a funeral pyre"
Smoker's jaw was hanging open. Ace took advantage of that as he plucked the cigar from his hands and put it in the corner of his mouth, deftly lighting it for him with a lighter he'd pulled from who knows where.
The music stopped, and Ace tipped his hat and left.
Leaving Smoker with a lit cigar in his mouth on school grounds and in a state of horrible confusion.
