#HALYARDS

[ltwilliammowett]

Halyard

In sailing, a halyard/ haulyard is a rope used to hoist a ladder, sail, flag or yard. The term "halyard" derives from the Middle English halier ("rope to pull") in the 1620s, with the last syllable changed by association with the English unit of measurement "yard".

Sailors hauling on halyard onboard the 'Parma', 1932

Halyards, like most other parts of running rigging, were classically made from natural fibres such as manila or hemp.

For longer pulls, a halyard shanty was often sung to achieve an even rhythm for a smooth pull.

[clove-pinks]

Here's what you are in Marryat's code of signals! Happy Valentine's Day, friend!

Thank you my friend!! ❤️

In the 1847 (tenth) edition of Marryat's Code of Signals, I believe I found your intended message:

HOWEVER. The first thing I pulled up was the fourth edition of 1826, which has a distinctly different message for 943:

Hopefully no one would be sailing around in 1847 with an edition of Marryat's Code over 20 years out of date, but this could set up some pretty catastrophic misunderstandings...

"Update your software code book! OR ELSE."

[the-insouciant-scientist]

@fallenlondonficswap @oleworm For the general swap :-) I saw you'd like to read about Parabolan weirdness and Zailing and I couldn't resist. Hope you enjoy! Downed and Drowned and Never Found Zee Captain and Zailor OCs, general rating, 1621 words.

The Judicious Boatswain’s knuckles went white as he gripped the railing. They were still zailing at a fast pace, headed back from the Khanate towards London with a heavy load of cargo, but… Would it be in time? He flinched hard as his Captain swept past him, his nerves having been frayed nearly to bleeding. “Captain, we need to talk. The crew is uneasy, and I hear there’s been talk of-” He called out to her back. She turned, and he regretted saying anything nigh-immediately. Her gaze was a thousand metre stare that cut into and through him like a scrimshander knife, eyes wide and empty. “Talk of what.” She said flatly. The Boatswain’s grip tightened a fraction further. “Nothing, Ma’am. Go rest. I’ll make sure it’s handled.”

The Captain did not move or breathe or blink for long enough that the Boatswain started to hold his own breath out of fear, but eventually she grunted in assent and turned her haunted gaze elsewhere. The hems of her coat dragged as she curled into herself and turned the corner, shambling out of sight. The Boatswain shivered. A young zailor ran past and he caught them by the arm, ignoring their cry of fear and surprise. “Find the First Mate and tell them they’re to act as Captain until we reach port. And for G-d’s sake, to make sure everyone gets extra rations. If the Quartermaster complains, tell him I said to shove it.” He ordered. The zailor nodded fretfully, gave a squeaked-out ‘yessir!’, and then bolted back in the direction they came from. The Boatswain sighed, shaking out the stiffness in his joints as he followed after his Captain. He already had a very good idea of what he would find, but it was nothing less than his duty to make sure. A knock went unanswered. So did a concerned greeting. Finally he steeled himself and shouldered the door open, one hand on his pistol just in case something went very badly. 

… As expected. The Captain’s quarters were entirely empty. No sign of her beyond a scattered pile of increasingly illegible papers, some old scratch marks at the corners of her windows, and a needlework prayer to Stone knocked to the floor. The Boatswain blanched and returned it to its place on the desk, unwilling to risk a zee-god’s anger on top of their already precarious situation. With luck, She’d be waiting for them in London once she recovered. —

Somewhere beyond the mirror, a form moved slowly through a jungle, gliding through the underbrush as easily as water. A wheel jutted from her spine, spokes spinning as she maneuvered. Steam and coalsmoke billowed from the corners of her mouth with every breath. “Call all hands to man the caps’n, see the cable floked down clear.” A tinny phonograph recording sang within her chest, keeping her on time. Capstan shanty. Raise the anchor. “Heave away an’ with a will boys, for ol’ London we will steer.” Her anchor lifted, bit by bit, and she picked up her pace as it no longer dragged behind her. Ships don’t have voices with which to sing, per se, but song has a way of coming through anyways. Her wooden boards creaked as she stooped under branches. “Rol-lin’ home, rollin’ home, rol-lin’ home across the zee.” The phonograph insisted, crackling softly. Her wheel spun as she turned gently to starboard. Home. Had to come home. No North Star to guide her down here, but her compass-heart knew the way all the same. As sure as Stone’s warmth. “Rollin home to dear Old London, rollin’ home, fair land, to thee.”

A rustling in the undergrowth had her shifting her stance onto her stern, movements slow but deliberate. A gun-arm was raised, and the soft glim-lamps of her eyes narrowed in focus. A tiger padded out from behind a tree, vegetation whispering against its fur. She lowered her weapons. No threat. “Well, aren’t you an interesting sight.” The tiger purred. When she didn’t respond or move, its tail flicked. “What are you doing out here?” “Heave away, you rollin’ king! Heave away, haul away! Haul away, oh hear me sing! We’re bound for London ci-ty.” Her phonograph played, a gentle static hiss clinging to some of the words. She swayed in an invisible current. “Ahh, I see.” It said, stretching languidly. She tilted her head, the ropes and lines of her hair pulling taut against their cleats. “I won’t keep you long, then. I wish you fair winds and following seas.” After a long moment, she nodded, a slow dip of her bow. The tiger disappeared back into the greenery without a sound. Smoke puffed from her mouth as she exhaled, angling herself port and starting on her slow, steady journey once more. Home. She was going home, as all ships do when a voyage is through. Her keel would keep her upright and true. She travelled like this for centuries or seconds until a familiar sight came into view. A mirror in an intricate frame, containing an image of a gas-lit hotel within. A sign that she was nearly home. Her bow breached the glass like a hand through water, and she passed through. The Devoted Captain took a deep breath as she pulled her coat taut around her. She paused for a moment, getting her bearings, when her eyes fell on the fountain in the middle of the lobby. Not the zee-water she craved, but water nonetheless. She trudged over and knelt by the edge of it, trailing a hand in it to bring some to her lips. She drank deeply, like this. Her throat felt like she had been smoking, perhaps, but she couldn’t recall why that would be. A tall and smiling man approached, and sat on the edge of the fountain next to her. She regarded him balefully. Interrupting my drink, she thought to herself. He leaned down to rest a bearded chin in one hand, tilting his head at her. “Are you here to check in? A wind of Fate in your sails has blown you right into my lobby, after all.” He said. The Captain just barely held back on telling him where he could shove his lobby. A sudden ripple of laughter through his shoulders anyways made her wonder if maybe she hadn’t thought that as quietly as she had meant to. She settled for staring at him while pointedly (and loudly) sipping at another handful of fountain-water. “Hm. Very well.” He sighed fondly. “Another red-sky morning, perhaps.” She wiped the extra water off her face with the back of one sleeve and snorted. “Doubt it.” She said, standing up and shaking the wet from her hands. “I’m leaving.” The Manager smiled even wider. “Fair winds, Capstan.” The Devoted Captain turned to him, brows furrowed. “Capstan?” “Hm? I believe that’s a part of a ship, or a variety of shanty pertaining to it. Isn’t it your job to know that, my dear?” He teased, eyes crinkling. “No, you… Urgh. You called me Capstan. The hell did you mean by that?” The Captain near-hissed. “I called you Captain, you must have misheard. Perhaps you have some zee-water in your ears?” The Manager insisted. She clenched her fists by her sides and took a very deep breath to keep herself from doing something very inadvisable, and then turned and stalked out the door. The Manager waved to her retreating form with an airy laugh. Ah, no matter. He’d convince her to stay eventually. —

Wolfstack Docks. Almost there. The Devoted Captain’s boots thunked heavily against wood as she scanned the piers for her ship. She broke into a run when she spotted it, a little worn around the edges but not much worse for wear from her absence. Her First Mate snapped to attention first, then the rest. “Cap’n! We were hoping we’d find you back here. We got all the crates from the Khanate unloaded already, but we’ve been waiting for you.” They said, clasping her hand in theirs to shake firmly. “I owe you all an apology. Things got bad at zee, and I am sorry about that. But right now, I want nothing more than to get back on board my ship. Anyone who needs shore leave can take it, but I…” She gazed hungrily at the deck. “I need to feel her boards under my boots again.” The Judicious Boatswain studied her, not unkindly, before laughing gently. “Well, don’t waste time on our account. Go say hello.” He said. Some level of tension eased in his shoulders as she grinned. The Devoted Captain hauled herself up onto her ship, forgoing the gangplank entirely. Once up she immediately took to running her hands over the railings, relishing the wood under her skin. She was home. More than that, she felt like she was whole again, like some part of her own body had clicked back into place with her return. Her crew returned a few at a time, mostly just trying to keep out of her way as she did her rounds. A good few were taking up her offer of shore leave, it seemed, but not so many that they couldn’t zail. The Fidgeting First Mate joined her at the wheel, hands clasped behind their back. “So where are we off to next, Captain?” She laughed. “How about the Court of the Wakeful Eye? It’s been a while since we’ve paid tribute, and with luck, Stone’s light will bless us as we pass.”

The First Mate inclined their head with a smile. “Sounds like a good enough idea to me.”

The Captain curled her fingers around the wheel, took a deep breath, and prepared to zail once more.

[evanpeters]

holy fuck roman’s apartment...................................

[happywebdesign]

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[joyamedicalsuppliesau]

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[nxgitsoft]

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[bttnusa1]

Halyard Bilateral Facial Ice Pack

3-layer construction with soft outer covering, absorbent middle layer, film inner layer, and blue polyester fabric for strap attachment.

The Halyard Bilateral Facial Ice Pack is a premium medical device designed to provide effective cold therapy for facial pain and swelling. Ideal for post-surgical care, injury recovery, and general facial discomfort, this ice pack offers dual-sided cooling to ensure comprehensive coverage and comfort.

The pack is crafted from high-quality, durable materials, ensuring it maintains its therapeutic cold for optimal periods. With an ergonomic design that contours to the face, it delivers soothing relief while minimizing movement and discomfort.

 

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Additional Information:

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[lucybellwood]

A while ago Falynn K. asked this question on Twitter:

"So on a tall sailing ship you have the mast, and you have the yards across it--is the yard/spar actually attached to the mast, by like i dunno, a pin or something, or is it strictly roped/lashed to it?"

This is a totally reasonable question! A lot of folks who haven't sailed square riggers might think that the yard stays put, but in fact it needs to move up and down the mast so the sails can be fully set. (Y'know how everyone's always talking about halyards? They literally haul the yard up. You're welcome.)

So to answer the question: yards are held loosely to the mast by a looped line strung with large wooden beads called a parrel. The beads roll up the mast as the yard is raised and lowered. Here's a drawover that hopefully clarifies a little:

Once you start explaining things about tall ship anatomy it's hard to stop, so there's a bit more context for how the sails work:

(These are pages from my comic A Week at Sea with OHP, which you can read online here or grab as a print minicomic here.)

Hope this is helpful!

[eyelambspider]

𝟎𝟏. 𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧 & 𝐀𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐜 || 𝐊𝐲𝐥𝐞 "𝐆𝐚𝐳" 𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤

Day One of Kink/Creeptober! Here are the prompts & my event terms!

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : tigershark!mer!Gaz x gn!reader 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : ♪ The sailor tumbles into the icy depths, not to be heard again, not by the gods or the father Posiden and his trident, but a saved by the son of the sea. ♪ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.8 k 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : mentions of drowning/freezing/near death, kissing, saliva as aphrodisiac, gaz 'accidentally' uses it

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐍𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐘, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐒. The night was black as ink, screams and orders dying under the roar of the waves and wind. The ocean spitting in the faces of men as they hoisted the ropes and tried to tie down the main sail.

The storm had descended from nowhere, leaving the crew in a blind panic to rip the canvas from its mast in a matter of minutes.

The wind howled with a force that carried the rain sideways. It didn't matter that the icy hands of the waves licked at your back or clawed down your tear ducts. All that mattered, was trying to tie down the unruly sail.

The stormy night had snuffed out all the lights on deck, the only source of comfort had come from the white lightning that crashed like cymbals in the churning sky. The following darkness creating a fleeting moment of hysteria for everyone on board that valued their lives.

"GRAB THE HALYARD!!!"

Men swarmed by the dozens to grab the drenched rope, each grabbing on, grappling out into the darkness until they had it in their collective grasps and pulled. The ship rocked like an iceberg about to tip. No guide or god to lead it through the storm. The bow moaning with every crashing wave and spluttering punch the Atlantic had to give.

Once ordered to, you rushed to help the men grab the rope, the thick cord snapping around your wrist like a writhing serpent. Pulling taught as the sail struggled to close, too full of wind and rain to give way to the men that pleaded for it to shut.

"PULL!!!"

At once, the mass of men heaved, leaning back with a ton of weight, playing tug of war against the sea herself.

But she would not yield to the likes of men.

Another bolt of lightning vaulted across the dark clouds, lighting up the ocean in a searing flash of white.

A wave, at least ten men tall, stood up and jumped overboard in a rush of salt and bubbles.

In an instant, it swallowed you whole. The current slamming you from one side of the ship to the other. The rope, now your lifeline, uncoiled cruelly from your wrist. Simply letting go and tossing you headfirst into the depths.

Time slowed, and with the next crash and boom of lightning... all you could see were the churning clouds. No mast or other bodies. No orders or distant screams. Not even your own as you tumbled headfirst into the Atlantic soundlessly. Your flesh embraced with the icy bite of the sea in a loud splash of water.

You swallowed bits of the sea, lips finally moving all too late, opening and closing like a fish out of water. The surface of the ocean slipped from your grasp faster and faster. The waves pummeling you under the current, punching all the fight from your lungs in one fell crash.

The convulsions started quickly, muscles contracting painfully without any air. Breathing in only salt water. It was all too late that you remembered to swim through the shock. Body moving on its own accord in a fight for the surface. A fight for your life.

You broke the surface with a violent splutter, salt water vomited from your lungs, choking for air that was in your grasp. Just as cold and violent as the sea was.

Another flash of lightning cracked the sky in half, the waves forcing your head back under the water. Blindly drowning you and sucking the life out of your lungs.

Nothing made sense.

The dark void around you, the distant rumble of thunder, and a sky that mocked you with one last flash of lightning to show you just how far you had slipped under the sea.

The body that once fought for you, went lax and still.

Nothing made sense.

Until you felt a weight brush against your calf as it swam by. Then, something coiled around your waist, squeezing with a sickening softness. The body around this creature was warm and blubbery, even against your icy skin.

You blearily wondered if it was a school of fish trying to eat you. Already feasting on a sailor thrown overboard.

The world went dark once more, nothing to be felt or seen.

Until the sounds of choking filled your ears.

For a few minutes, that's all that existed. Breathless wheezing and gagging. The sounds of water sloshing onto a hard surface.

Then your eyesight returned, the dark world coming back onto focus as you rolled onto your side. A rush of sea water expelling itself from your lips with a violent heave.

A hand brushed against your back, patting firmly to help your struggle. The thick rains from just a moment ago had turned into a fine mist... still falling from the sky.

The hands, not your own, rolled you onto your back again. A shadowy face appearing before a pair of warm lips met yours. Flooding your lungs with a rush of sweet air.

Through the shock, your eyes widened, finally giving you the full picture.

Your savior pulled away, still cradling your head so that it didn't smash against the black rocks you now laid on.

Sweet honeyed eyes melted against yours, searching for a sure sign that you were okay. Alive. Dark, rich skin and tousled hair that reached just above his shoulders in thick waves. Droplets of clear rain dripping tantalizingly from his brows and lashes in a way that made him look like a god.

His lips crashed into yours again and your body shook from the pain that wracked your body. The near death experience leaving a tremor in your skin and a sickening rawness in your lungs. As if pebbled coral had scrubbed against the sensitive tissues around your heart.

You tried to cry from the pain, unable to feel the tips of your fingers from the frozen Atlantic you had just been pulled from, but the strangers lips persisted. Moving against yours, pulling you into him. His warm chest pressed against yours, igniting every sensitive nerve beneath him. So close you could feel his heartbeat like your own as he shared his breath with yours.

Steady and warm... and irresistibly sweet on your tongue, like the man had just drank the sweetest cherry wine. His exhale was soft like cotton candy, and twice as addictive. A sudden buzz flowing through your icy blood, granting it a pulsing warmth you had only felt under the morning sun.

The stranger finally pulled away and inspected your face. A concern scrawled all over his features. "Are you alright?" he asked over the roar of the tide, the water still crawling over the rocks to lick at your fingertips.

His voice. It was as rich as gold, and suddenly fiery tears stung the edge of your vision. It was the most beautiful sound you'd ever heard. As if an angel was speaking directly to you.

He was beautiful, you realized.

He wore no shirt, no jacket, no sigil... he was a face you didn't recognize. That was for sure. If he was on your ship, you'd have remembered it. And the thought sent a cold jolt through your rapidly warming body.

You sat up too quickly, gasping for air with a hoarse wheeze.

The stranger let you, his hand staying on your back in a soothing manner. "It's alright, get all the water out," he assured you.

Your head dipped down, on the verge of coughing up salt until...

You saw it.

"Wha-?" The words couldn't come out of your mouth. The scream you had intended had only come out as a sharp inhale.

Right at his hips, it was like he had been eaten by a shark- No. He- he was one.

The blubbery body below his waist, the sharp fin and tail, was unmistakable. Akin to the creatures you had watched swarm around the ship, waiting for fallen food or eating the schools of fish that flocked beneath the boat.

That familiar grey-brown striped pattern on his-god!- on his tail-

A shark.

He even had gills below his ribcage, the creature not even wearing a shred of clothing that hinted at a humanity you knew.

"Yuh-You're-You're a-a" You huffed breathlessly, as if your body was trying to warn you. Trying to crawl back, away from the half-man in a frenzy of fear, but the pain ebbing in your bones was too much. The fright and fear to paralyzing. And the man held you close.

The same concern on his face still lingering for you.

"Don't move too fast!" He scolded with round eyes, holding you firmly next to him.

The struggle was feeble. Your body had given out before the struggle could even begin. Going limp in his hands as he supported you, the man suddenly jumping in worry that you had died.

"Hey! Hey! Wake up!" He patted your cheek anxiously before he leaned in and kissed you again. His breath mingling with yours, trying to force you to stay awake with a rush of air.

It was then, that the cold fear suddenly flushed out of your body. Replaced by a searing heat that shot straight into your blood. Fingertips tingling, feeling his arms and the intense heat of his skin despite the lingering rain. The acute way his body pressed against yours. The sweetness of his mouth.

It made your pulse flutter. Goosebumps crawling up your neck as he molded his body to yours. Pulling away to check again if you were okay.

The moment he did, your arm shot up and stopped him just centimeters from your face. Lips brushing his. You couldn't explain it, the need for this man ebbing below your skin like a sweet flame. You wanted him more than the last breath you had prayed for. Needed his lips, his skin, those warm eyes.

You pulled him back into your lips fiercely, tongue delving into his mouth to taste him again. Everything else forgotten and thrown to the winds. You only wanted his kiss. Again and again. Over and over until he drank the rest of the air from your lungs.

A soft groan slipped from your lips as he kissed you back. His body pressing insistently against yours, laying you beneath him on the rocks, his fin curled around your boots. Gasping for air against your lips just to crash into them all over again. With every kiss the heat intensified in your body, humming against his as his lips traced your jaw and neck.

[anystalker707]

"Show me how to kiss?"

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x [gender neutral] Reader Summary: Two imagines one in which you ask Sanji to show you what it is like to kiss and another one in which he's the one to ask. Tags: Gentleman Sanji !! / Also babygirl Sanji, ofc / Very sweet, y'kno / Sanji can't help himself / You can't either, but it's nice seeing him caving in / Very romantic Check out (Roronoa Zoro's version)

MASTERLIST

If you’re the one to ask him...

          All of that kind of got you frustrated. Robin had recommended you a book, a book that was too immersive for its own good. Since living as a pirate took most of your time, you’d never really thought about it until you started reading that; the book stuck in your mind a little too long, hence it wasn’t difficult hearing the others once in a while telling you to come back to earth.

It was difficult not thinking about the book the entire time. The way the couple kissed... What did it feel like? Having the lips of someone you like pressed against yours, their tongue running against your lip...

“I told you to pull the halyard, (y/n)! Are you listening?” Nami’s voice cut through your thoughts. Fuck, you spaced out again.

“Sorry, Nami-san!” You shout in return, finally doing as said. Damn it. That book really caught you, leaving you wondering whether you liked the story itself or if all those descriptions just caught your attention. A sigh escaped your lips as you finished pulling the sail and, along with Nami and Zoro, you finished preparing the ship for the night.

With dinner already being served, it didn’t take long until everyone was going back to their quarters—or just falling asleep wherever, in Luffy’s case. All the lights were off, only with a dim beam coming from the window on the door of the galley. Today’s night watch was Sanji’s. You sort of had been waiting for that.

Sanji had always been there for you, really—aside from all the flirting, he did take his time to check up on you and hang out, sometimes inviting you to help him finish decorating whatever dessert he was preparing for the crew just so you two could talk. It was something else, so you couldn’t really help looking at Sanji with a different tone after you started reading that damn book Robin recommended to you. His lips seemed extra attractive as he talked to you yesterday when you made him company while he prepared lunch, shaping nicely around every word he spoke. Sometimes you asked him to repeat himself; he probably thought you were dumb, damn.

Only the soft sound of the waves filled the ambient aside from the occasional creaking of wood under your feet as you started heading upstairs to reach the galley. You stood there for a long moment before you finally knocked on the door, sighing, and walked in.

“Sanji?” You closed the door behind yourself; Sanji was by the sink and looked back at you over his shoulder with a smile.

“(Y/n)-chan! What brings you here?” He grinned. “It’s already late, y’know? Why haven’t you gone to sleep already? Such a pretty warrior like you needs a good night of sleep, my dear.” And even if he just had his back to you at the moment, you could still picture how he would’ve winked otherwise. Why did Sanji have to be so charming? He kinda reminded you of the guy in the book you were reading, all romantic, with those kisses... But better, of course.

Okay, whatever, that’s not the point.

You clear your throat, shaking your head as you lean forward with your forearms on the cold surface of the counter. “Right. I want a favor.”

“A favor?” Sanji turned off the sink and turned to you, wiping his hands dry on his apron. He had no blazer or tie this time, with the top buttons of his shirt unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Your eyes quickly met his again and you nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah. Something simple, but... Like, you can refuse it.”

Sanji furrowed his eyebrows. “Right, but what’s it?”

Fuck. That was going to be harder than you thought. Your eyes averted away. “Yeah. You’re, like, the only person I trust and also the one who’s probably the best for this,” you mumbled, but immediately paused again—rambling wasn’t a good idea—, “like... Could you show me how to kiss? As I said, it’s fine if you don’t accept it, but it would be really nice if you—”

“...You’ve never kissed anyone before?” Sanji blinked a couple of times.

“Don’t tease me, Sanji,” you sighed, standing up properly and scratching the back of your neck. “I never really had the time, never really thought about it, y’know, but...”

“No, no,” Sanji sighed as he stepped closer. “That’s not what I mean, darling. The thing is, are you sure you’re going to give your first kiss to me? It’s something special, after all. You must think really well about it.”

Why did Sanji have to complicate things? It felt like you’d just explode at some point because of the whole tension, even more with how he acted. You just wanted to vanish or something, pretend that never happened.

“Sanji... You’re, like, special enough.” You shrugged, but then the way he started to blush made you rethink your words. Could that just get worse? “Ah, c’mon, I just...”

“Right, right.” Sanji quickly nodded—maybe he knew what you thought, since he was good at reading you and catching onto clues in general. “I’m honestly honored. You’re very sweet, my dear. I’m going to make it simple, okay?” He grinned wide as he usually did and walked around the counter to come closer, standing right in front of you after you turned around, leaning back against the counter and holding onto the edges.

You nodded, your eyes catching onto every little movement, from the way he adjusted his clothes out of instinct to the way there was a nervous trembling tugging onto the corner of his lips.

Sanji’s tongue poked out, running between his lips as he leaned in, a hand gripping onto the edge counter by each of your sides. His breath fanned over your face, and the smell of his cologne with a hint of tobacco filled your lungs. “Just try to go along with what I do, okay?” He whispered, waiting for you to nod before he finally closed the distance between you two.

Sanji’s lips pressed to yours softly, warm and gentle, as if he was afraid to do something wrong. His mouth broke the contact only for a second as, instead of having your bottom lip between his, he had your upper lip now; you tried to follow his gentle motions, your lips clumsily moving against his. Sanji still remained calm, keeping the same slow pace of the kiss until you could finally kiss back properly.

It was a hard task, actually. How could you keep yourself calm while you finally kissed someone? And, hold on, it wasn’t anyone. It was Sanji.

“Good?” Sanji whispered, his eyes looking into yours so intently you could feel your heart beating more while your face felt so hot; still, you nodded. He smiled in response. “Can I do it again, my dear?”

How were you even supposed to handle that? “Yes, yes,” you whispered, maybe a little more excited than you intended, but it didn’t matter.

Sanji soon pressed his lips against yours again, and things were smoother this time. The kiss felt different, even if it all was essentially the same thing as before. Your heart fluttered in your chest, your fingers tightening a little around the marble as you tried to focus more on how his lips felt against yours; from the way your lips slid together to how his breath fanned against the space between your upper lip and your nose— And oh, also how his mustache would tickle whenever it grazed your skin, the same way it would tickle when his goatee brushed your chin. It was fucking better than anything you could ever have imagined. Better than what the books could have described.

You sighed softly, about to move your hand to his shoulder when Sanji pulled away a little, but he quickly kissed you again, making you gasp when his tongue ran against your bottom lip. It made a shiver run down your spine, having something stirring in your chest as your lips parted slightly.

The kiss finally broke, and your lips still felt tingly even so. You caught your breath, blinking before you finally looked at Sanji, your heart still beating fast and face still warm.

“Sanji—”

“Was that good, my dear?” There was something different in his voice.

“Of course.” Admitting it out loud made you want to disappear again.

Sanji smiled, exhaling in relief. “That’s great.”

“What’s wrong?” You furrowed your eyebrows; your hand met Sanji’s so easily, just with a light shift as you just wanted to adjust your hand against the counter. You keep it there, though, on top of his.

Sanji’s eyes averted away, a sigh escaping his lips. “It was wrong of me.”

“...Hm?”

“Wrong to enjoy it while I was just doing you a favor. I’m so sorry, my dear,” he whispered.

“What do you mean?” You glanced away. “I... Sanji, that was so... Like, you made my heart skip beats, that...”

A red tone took over Sanji’s cheeks and his eyes widened before he looked at you. “Really?”

You nodded, chuckling. “Really.”

“Would you mind if I did it again?” He grinned again, wagging his eyebrows a little.

Your eyes averted away and you tried to bite back a smile. “...Of course not.”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

If he asks you...

          Sanji didn’t fucking know what he was going to do. The crew had been staying on an island for a while, partying away and relaxing after they saved yet other people from someone who threatened their peace. Unexpectedly, it earned him a date with one of the girls in the city that he met in a local bar through his characteristic flirting. So far so good, right? Actually, no. That was the first person who actually got that far with him, so he didn’t even know how to kiss—the only experience he had was pecking lips with whoever he got closer with, never actually kissing.

Maybe someone would help him with it? Because Sanji sure as hell didn’t want to lose that opportunity. It really was the first time he had gotten that far. He could ask Nami, right? Only if he was ready to hear her teasing at him the whole time and still dare ask him an immeasurable amount of berries for the ‘favor’. Robin would be nice, but it still wasn’t a great choice—she would be a tease in her own, harsh way, and Sanji didn’t want to lose the bit of respect he had with her. The men—out of question. No.

Then... There was you.

It didn’t seem like you would refuse his request, and Sanji was—almost—sure you knew how to kiss. Not to mention that you had such pretty lips that he couldn’t help imagining how they would feel against his and— Okay, that’s not the focus. He just had to get ready for a date, that, shamefully, wasn’t with you.

Sanji stood there in the kitchen, polishing glasses as he observed you finish eating breakfast while the rest of the crew already started to leave the galley; Zoro had chased Usopp and Luffy out of the kitchen most of the others was already off to their duties, only leaving you talking with Robin about a book she had in hand. Robin would lift her book or open at specific pages to show you something while you sipped on your juice until she eventually stood up with a sigh and left, waving at you.

Now was his chance.

“(Y/n)-swan...” Sanji’s voice cut through the galley in its mellow tone, almost as if it were a plea already, making you raise an eyebrow at him from your place at the table. “I may need your help with something, my dear.” He was thankful he was behind the counter so you wouldn’t have a full look on how weak you made you.

“What’s it?” You sipped on your juice as you looked at him. It was normal seeing Sanji blushing and fawning over people, but it wasn’t exactly your case; he used to be shy around you, though not really as squirmy as he was at the moment.

Sanji took a deep breath in a fruitless attempt of easing the fluster. “You know how to kiss, right?” He remembered you would talk with some people whenever the crew would party on islands, which was enough to make him jealous and worsen his nervousness in a way his flirting just stopped working with everyone else. Until now, it seemed.

You furrowed your eyebrows. Why was that even important? “...Yeah, I do.” The way Sanji looked at you made you rethink the events of the last week to check if you��d done anything wrong. Had you? Maybe last night when you—

“I...” Sanji sighed. “Can you come here?”

With a quick look around—was it a prank?—, you downed your juice before standing up. “What’s it?” You stood across from him, on the other side of the counter, resting your forearms over the cold marble.

Sanji took a deep breath. “I would like you to show me how to kiss.”

You blinked. Show him how to kiss. Him being Sanji. Sanji and you with your lips pressed to each other. Kissing. “What?”

“I got a date, but I... I don’t know how to kiss. I would only trust such a sweet person like you with teaching me how to do such an important thing, you know? I really hope you can help me....” His rant faded away into the back of your mind as you could feel your cheeks start to heat up while you digested everything that he said.

A string of curses escaped your lips as you let your head hang, staring at the marble in an attempt to ground yourself to reality. Like, Sanji was cute, of course, with that characteristic grace that laced his movements whenever he cooked and the cute way he smiled at you while saying something reassuring. Still, he never really paid attention to you like he did to the others, but he was there asking you such a favor. It was just a simple favor. Nothing more. Nothing deeper. Nonetheless, the fact he had a date still made your heart sink a little.

You exhaled slowly, nodding as you brought your head up again. Sanji was still speaking. That stupid fuck.

“Sanji,” you cut him off, watching him gulp, his cheeks red. “I can help you. Chill. I’ll help you.” You cleaned your throat because. After all, it was just a little favor, right? Right?

Sanji looked at you with wide eyes, incredulous that you’d actually accepted. He was very convinced that you’d accept it, of course, but not really. Like, maybe you would, but also— Okay, okay, focus. Sanji took a deep breath again and nodded, pressing his lips together. He quickly put the glass and the cloth away. What if he took too long and you changed your mind? He couldn’t risk that.

With quick steps, Sanji walked around the counter and stood in front of you. “Right... What do I need to...?” Despite how serious he tried to seem, he still held onto his apron tightly and his cheeks had that red tone while he looked at you.

It made your heart flutter a little, even if that wouldn’t matter a lot to him. Breathe deeply, (y/n), don’t make it a big deal.

“Relax, okay?” You cut off your own thoughts, cupping Sanji’s face gently. He bit on his lip, and the general way he acted almost made your heart ache. “No, don’t bite your lip.” You chuckled, running your thumb across his cheek in an attempt to help him calm down, but the way he reacted, damn... “Okay, better. Can I?”

Sanji blinked and quickly nodded. “Yes.”

Spending a little while longer looking at Sanji was a strong temptation, but it wasn’t like you were kissing a partner or something like that; there was no need to admire him and take in each detail of how pretty he was before you kissed him. You swallowed dryly and nodded, closing the distance between the two of you. Sanji gasped once your lips met, but you still held the kiss for a little before pulling away, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Is there something wrong?”

Sanji blinked a couple of times. “I—I was a little out of it. Can you do it again?”

Out of it? Or maybe he disliked it? You slowly nodded and kissed Sanji again and, this time, he tried to kiss back, though it was a little messy since he tried to rush things—you pulled away with a chuckle.

“Easy! You need to follow the pace or at least slowly establish one. Also, don’t try to use tongue out of sudden— No, you didn’t do that, but that’s just a tip.” You explained, furrowing your eyebrows a little at how his face fell a little. “Just simple kisses, okay? I kiss your upper lip while you kiss my bottom one and vice versa. No rushing.”

Sanji’s gaze averted away and he sighed, pressing his lips together, but he still nodded. This time, there was no warning before you pressed your lips to his, and he seemed to hold onto what you said, moving his lips—or at least trying to—in the same rhythm as yours, which was quite slow. His lips were warm and smooth against yours, and there was the sweet taste of whatever fruit he had eaten for breakfast earlier along with tobacco, of course. It wasn’t the best mix ever, but there was something about it that had you needing more.

You pulled away, your breath picking up a little; Sanji’s breath fanned over your face, also somewhat uneven. “Was that okay?”

“...Yeah,” he whispered.

“I will try something else,” you added. Why were you still so close while talking like that? Why were you still cupping his face? “Try to copy.”

All Sanji did was to nod this time, already closing his eyes.

It was a little better this time, smoother, since Sanji already started to get used to it, but he still faltered when your tongue slid against his bottom lip. Sanji gasped softly but accepted it, letting you trace his lip with your tongue until you went back to kissing him like before. His hands suddenly wrapped around your shoulders, squeezing them a little with the firm grip he used while trying to run his tongue against your lip as naturally as you had done to him.

If you had opened your eyes, you would see Sanji furrowing his eyebrows gently, focused as he tried his best. He wondered if you could hear how loud his heart was beating because, fuck, that was finally happening. He was finally kissing you.

Sanji’s breath was shaky when the kiss ended again and he could feel his heart fluttering with how your thumb ran across his cheek gently before your hand dropped to cup the side of his neck. His eyes met yours and he gulped.

“Ag—”

“Want one more thing?” You suggested and he couldn’t help but nod, biting his lip, and he was the one to lean in this time.

Something was different about this one kiss, and Sanji couldn’t really find out what it was—he just hummed softly, trying to follow your pace and letting your tongue run against your lip until you managed to slip your tongue into his mouth. Fuck, his brain just went blank when your tongue pressed against his, gliding against it and deepening the kiss. He was still trying to process it when you pulled away, hence he couldn’t even take in whatever you said, just able to mumble “again.”

Who were you to deny the request? Your free hand rested on Sanji’s waist and his hands adjusted their grip around your shoulders as your lips met once more. More confidence laced Sanji’s actions this moment, his tongue running against your lip as he kissed you, but you couldn’t help yourself, just pulling him a little closer and nibbling gently on his bottom lip, enough to snatch a quiet sound from him.

Both of you breathed a little heavier, holding onto each other even after the kiss was over.

“Y’know?” Sanji said, making you hum in response. “I don’t think I want to go out with that girl anymore...”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

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