#The difference is that Zeff cutting his leg and giving all the food to Sanji made Sanji feel eternally guilty and unworthy

[sillypiratelife]

When Sanji sacrifices himself he's aware of what he's doing. He knows exactly what is at stake and how much he's given and why his act is bad to others or himself, why it must be done either way. From what I see, it's a reflection of his self-esteem and his desire to put others first, it's guilt and it's self-punishment and he knows, okay?

When Zoro sacrifices himself he's insane, batshit crazy. He doesn't want to die per se, he doesn't hate himself and doesn't do it out of punishment. His dreams are bigger than his life, they are more valuable, so he's never afraid to put his life at risk when it comes to fulfilling what he thinks his duty is. You could say it's his honor or his code of life— Zoro can survive the deadliest wounds, the worst circumstances, 'cause he doesn't seek death, it's just that he won't avoid it either.

I love that contrast and how clear it is during the encounter of Zoro and Mihawk in Baratie.

#they both live to carry other people's dreams that are also their own #Zeff's dream of finding the All Blue and Kuina's dream of becoming the best swordwoman ever #They both fight with the techniques snd experience that were passed down to them by Zeff and Kuina #The difference is that Zeff cutting his leg and giving all the food to Sanji made Sanji feel eternally guilty and unworthy #he thinks he has to sacrifice himself for others so much #Zeff hates seeing how he drags himself down when other hadn't even asked that of him #Meanwhile Kuina's death drove Zoro to go all out never fearing his death #He could die trivially in some accident like Kuina did but the difference is that Kuina died reaching for her sword #Call it whatever you want but Zoro learned from her to don't let desth stop you it can catch you whenever anyway #Fear of death can be the thing that stops you from reaching your dreams so you need to teach yourself how to live plenty #Zoro's opinion on sacrifice is closer to Luffy's #The insanity of those two #It really hurts to see Sanji around them because of that #He's position is closer to Nami's in that sense #She who sacrificed everything for her village and her people #shan blogs about one piece! #one piece anime #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji

[beanghostprincess]

@lunaticus asked me to explain more about the relationship Sanji has with selflessness and why he thinks about self-sacrifice as a form of love and affection (thanks to Zeff, but that comes later). So I think it deserves its very own post!

So we all know Sanji has this thing for self-sacrifice (seen in Skypiea. Seen in Thriller Bark. Seen in WCI. Seen in Wano. Seen all the damn time because he always does this) and I think his parental figures play a big role in this (I mean Sora and Zeff, not Judge. Fuck you, Judge). Sanji uses self-sacrifice as a form of affection but also because he doesn't see his life as something valuable (now this is Judge's doing. Fuck you, Judge x2). Sanji's love language comes directly from both Sora and Zeff, and tbh I think Reiju too:

The first time he has any sort of connection to kindness and love is his mom. Sora literally sacrifices herself so Judge can't keep modifying her kids. She died for her kids. She died for Sanji. And she kept smiling and taking care of her little angel nevertheless because Sanji was her only joy. She ate stuff that was probably awful just because it made Sanji happy. It made him follow his dream. And he knew the food was bad but his mom ate it anyway, and that only made him want to keep working until his mom had a real, awesome meal. So Sora sacrifices her own life and her taste buds (RIP Sora's sense of taste) to make Sanji happy.

Then Reiju. It's not as obvious as the other two and it's not really self-sacrifice, but she does stay with an abusive family even though she could've tried to run away with Sanji. She saves him. Tells him to find better, kinder people out there. And she stays in hell because she sees herself as part of the family even if she isn't like them. The way Sanji speaks to her in WCI just makes it more obvious that even if she didn't sacrifice herself exactly (she doesn't see it as a sacrifice) she still has the same thinking as Sanji of: I deserve to be here. I belong here. But I'm gonna help Sanji run away because he doesn't deserve this. While Sanji thinks literally the same when it comes to leaving the crew behind.

And then, Zeff, who I think is the most influential one here. He cuts his own fucking leg to protect Sanji. For Sanji, a kid he barely knows, to survive. That obviously changes Sanji's life forever and he starts owing his life to Zeff (not owing, but, you know. He does at first and then it's more like the way a son feels about his dad giving up everything for him. It's just the way dads are, right?). It's the most selfless and self-sacrificing thing Sanji has ever witnessed. And it was to save him.

So of course, after all of this happens, Sanji sees self-sacrifice as a love language. The most important people in his life did this because they loved him. Of course he's gonna protect Usopp and Nami from Enel even if it means dying electrocuted. Of course he's gonna offer himself to feel Luffy's pain instead of letting Zoro do it. Of course he's gonna quit his new family to protect them from his bloodline. Of course he's gonna use the suit that makes him want to throw up to fight for Wano and of course he's gonna take his life so lightly, asking Zoro to kill him if he loses himself.

The main difference between these situations and what Sora/Zeff did, is that Sanji genuinely doesn't care about what happens to him. He doesn't see his own value and he doesn't care about dying as long as he gets to protect others. Because that's just the way love is for him. And we don't only see it in these dramatic moments, but in the way he treats people. In the way he cooks (such a selfless passion, wanting to serve others). And in the way he flirts with women (it looks exhausting, the way he's trying his best all the time to make them feel worshipped).

So, yeah, Sanji is selfless to an unhealthy extent because he sees self-sacrifice as a love language. And it could be, if it wasn't because it's his main way to prove his love. And it could be, if it wasn't because it ends up hurting him every damn time and he doesn't even care. So it ends up being dangerous.

I hope you liked my lil analysis on this! I think I could expand the idea a bit better but this is just the basics about it and Sanji's personality <33

#he's just like me fr #and he needs therapy btw #please somebody hug him #one piece #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sora #vinsmoke reiju #red leg zeff

[redhatmeg]

If you don’t mind me asking, how do you feel about all the straw hats individually? (Truth is, I got a lot of one piece antis on tiktok and I genuinely like all the straw hats and to that extent most of the characters so I just wanted to make sure)

I should point out that I've stopped watching One Piece sometime after Sabody Archipelago Arc, while with manga I stopped few chapters after Ace's execution. Therefore the last Straw Hat Pirate I've known was Brook and I don't have opinion about later members yet.

I can say that some Straw Hats I liked quickly, others grew on me over time, and I'm indifferent about others.

My absolute favorites:

Luffy - yes, some of his shenningans are annoying and he can be a little dumb at times, but you get the idea that this is a man with principles. There's a lot of admirable things about him, like the fact that he has a strong will and sense of justice, and he's willing to fight for people he knows only a little (Mountblanc Cricket for example). Many of his nakama were first such people.

Sanji - Sanji seems very cool, with his swagger, aloofness and chain-smoking, but you quickly realize there's something more to him. He is a magnificent cook and treats his craft very seriously, however, his exepriences on the island gave him a unique insight into someone who suffers from starvation, which first couple of episodes on Baratie showcase (his anger over Fullbody meddling with the dish, him offering Gin, Don Krieg and Don Krieg's men food, because they're starving for days) and I wish it'd popped up more often in later arcs. His perverted ways are kind of tiring but I would say that I've seen more annoying perverts in fiction.

Chopper - oh, Chopper is just the cutest and frankly, I like his default form the most. He's a child at heart and it is a good heart, he's very smart and capable, but he also takes a lot of risks and had a life marked with tragedy.

Not gonna lie, part of what makes me like these characters, is their backstories that feature fatherly figures and moved me in different ways. Episode with Shanks stole my heart and hooked me on this anime, because it's such a simple story and yet it gives so much insight into Luffy's moral code and way of thinking. Episode with Sanji and Zeff on the island is horrific on many different levels, but there is so much to unpack in this "limited situation" (Sanji dreaming of leftovers that were put in the trash, him cutting Zeff's sack thinking there is food, but there's just gold which is useless in their position; the realization that Zeff lost a leg because of him). And episodes with Chopper and Hiruluk are bittersweet, because Chopper found someone who loved and accepted him and gave him purpose, but then this whole situation with Hiruluk's disease and mushroom complicates things, and it plays out like a one big tragedy. For me personally these three stories are just the most interesting and I used to rewatch them a lot.

Now let's move to characters that grew on me over time:

Zoro - for a long time I was indifferent about him. He had good scenes, but I didn't think much about him or his dream. It was only when in Thriller Bark Saga he volunteered to take Luffy's pain and said: "Luffy will become the Pirate King.", that he gained 100+ respect in my eyes and suddenly I started to see him in different light. What I find most interesting about him is this relationship he shares with Luffy - they are polar opposites character-wise, but I have no doubt that they are kindred spirits and Zoro respects his captain the most.

Usopp - at first he might be a Miles Glorious kind of character, not to mention a scaredly cat at times, but I would say he's a work in progress in a best possible way. He wants to be Brave Warrior of the Sea, he's full of self-doubts and he's limited by his own fear, especially because he's surrounded by superhumans and monsters... but you can see that he often wins with his fear and gradually becomes the man he wants to become. I can kinda relate to this dude.

Robin - at first Robin comes off as a cold killer and femme fatale and then she joins Straw Hats and you suddenly realize that she's a fun character to have around. She's a stoic, often unphased by her nakama's weird shenningans, but at the same time she laughs and is really good with younger (or younger-at-heart) characters, like Chopper. I also like that she's a scholar and there are times when her archeology background comes up.

And finally characters I'm indifferent about:

Nami - for a long time Nami fell into an archetype of an anime female lead I really disliked back in a day: a character that was mean or violent towards the main character (frankly, she never reached Haruno Sakura's level, because Oda was gratious enough to not give her a love interest she would fawn over; or make her a girl Luffy is hopelessly in love with). Her greed, although understandable given her backstory, can be tiresome at times, however, she also has some good moments in the show and she was one of the four core members of the crew, alonside with Zoro, Usopp and Sanji.

Vivi - I hated Vivi during the first watch of the anime, but this rewatch opened my eyes to the fact that she's not so bad. Still, as I said earlier, I wouldn't put her back on the team, because I don't feel like she has the Big Dream that requires her to travel through the Grand Line, like the rest of Straw Hats. Her Big Dream is Arabasta being safe and prosperous, and she can achieve it in her homeland.

Franky - he's just... Franky. Yes, his backstory about seeing his creations hurting his mentor and causing destruction is sad and poignient, he becomes Straw Hats' ally really quick after this whole thing with Usopp, and he seems very proud of Thausand Sunny, but he's my least favorite Straw Hat, I'm sorry.

And finally, Brook. I put him separately from others because I didn't spend much time with him, so I didn't get the full grasp of his character. I will say that he has one of the most beautiful scenes in whole series and probably during this rewatch I will be talking about it extensively when the time comes. He also seems fun, most of the time. Still, I don't know him as much as i would like to.

Now, the crew as a whole is great and I love how they grow to care for one another. It's also very unconventional crew, since they are very much like: "Well, our captain is an idiot, but he's our idiot." You get me?

I don't know if later episodes will change how i look at some of those characters or if I find the new Straw Hat members more interesting, but for now it looks like this.

#meg rewatches one piece #one piece #monkey d. luffy #nami #roronoa zoro #tony tony chopper #nefertari vivi #cyborg franky #nico robin #black leg sanji #usopp #soul king brook

[itsthemoofacewriting]

Potato Peeling- Chapter 2

So, I gave myself a week to update, which seemed perfectly reasonable at the time, except I didn’t factor in that I’d just written a 15k story and the first chapter to this beforehand. Needless to say, not much writing was done in that week but better late than never, right?  

I had to learn how to make marmalade and duck l’mikan for this story, all for you Momo!

Summary: Sanji's had never had an assistant before, but now, at least once a week, Nami's there to keep him company. Rating: K+

This can also be found on AO3 and FFN.

Enjoy.

Sanji looked down at the ripped and stained little piece paper that was handed to him with nothing but warmth. The penmanship was atrocious, and years of love had blurred the writing, but he knows exactly what this is and the deeper meaning behind it.

A handed down, family recipe.

Bell-mère’s recipe.

Nami had never shared this with him before now and he’d never taken that personally. As a chef he knew how personal these were and that these were about more than just the food. It was sentimental. But he’d heard whispers about this infamous dish, Nami had mentioned it in passing and that Bell-mère would make it on special occasions when talking about their childhoods. It’s why he’d never tried to recreate it without her say so and had stuck to other mikan based dishes.

It had all started when she’d walked in just after lunch and asked if he’d started preparing for dinner. When he’d answered in the negative, she’d thrust the recipe towards him and said that he could be her assistant for the evening if he was game. He was more than game. He wanted it more than anything and had nodded far too quickly, showing just how eager he was. Luckily, she hadn’t said anything about that, to his relief.

Now he was looking over the recipe with the critical eye of a chef before they started, he didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of Nami, especially not when this was his field of expertise. He’d be a fool any other time for her, but not now.

He wanted to impress her.

He looked through the method, from cooking the duck to making the mikan marmalade and nodded to himself. it was a very well written recipe, despite the state of the much-loved paper.

His eye caught something, and he bit back a groan. “Nami-san, please tell me you’ve made this before, and you know what ‘secret ingredient’ means?”

It was one of the biggest issues with handed down recipes, especially if they’d already been passed through a fair few generations. It’s what made them family recipes after all, a special ingredient or certain mixture that made the dish unique. But what may seem self-explanatory to begin with when it’s originally handed down, started to get lost further down the line.

Nami frowned and it didn’t fill him with much hope, but as she stood next to him to peer down at the recipe in his hands she laughed. “Oh! That’s just Bell-mère’s mikans. They’re one of a kind, you can’t get them anywhere else, you know,” she told him proudly, mirth in her eyes.

“Oh thank god,” he sighed in relief. He was an outstanding chef, he knew that, but even he wouldn’t be able to figure that one out.

“Breathe, Sanji-kun, you’re in good hands. I know what I’m doing,” she said teasingly, winking at him and squeezing his hand.

He ignored the way his hand tingled her at touch and smiled widely. “I’m at your mercy, lead the way, Nami-san!” He said with a dramatic flourish of his hands, gesturing for her to start as he bowed slightly, and she giggled in response.

It’d been a week since that night in the kitchen peeling potatoes and something had changed… but also not. Nothing was verbally said, but Nami was different with him. Friendlier, perhaps? She stood closer to him, touched him more and there was occasionally a look on her face that he couldn’t decipher.

He thought he knew what it meant, but he didn’t want to overstep the invisible line and ruin whatever it is this was. He’d aired his feelings that night, at least it felt like he had, and she hadn’t accepted or denied his feelings. And that was fine, because honestly it was just a relief to know she still wanted to be around him. He was happy to have whatever he was given.

But it left him in this weird limbo, where he didn’t know how to react to her touches or her flirtatious words. The flirtatious words weren’t completely new, he knew she’d lay it on thick when she wanted something, and he was more than happy to concede to her whims. Maybe it was more accurate to say that the context had changed. It happened when she didn’t want anything, they could be in conversation and she’d say something that’d make him splutter and then moved on like nothing had happened. It was both wonderful and embarrassing.

He was brought out of his musings when her hand came to rest on his arm to get his attention. “Ready?” She asked, holding out an apron for him with her other hand.

“More than ready,” he replied with confidence and she smirked back at him.

It was clear she’d made this recipe many times before and he was truly impressed. Which didn’t say very much in truth, he was always impressed by her, but this time, he was impressed as a chef. She moved with such confidence and fluidity, hardly ever looking at the recipe on the paper.

Not only that, they moved around each other with such ease; moving to the side before the other had to ask, passing the other the ingredient they were after, it was like they’d been working together for years.

Before he knew it, the duck was in the oven for the first cook, pricked and seasoned.

“So, what we need to do now is make some more marmalade, we have enough for dinner, but we won’t any left after that, and then make the orange sauce once the duck’s done it’s second cook,” Sanji said, mentally checking off the list of things still left to do in his head.

He stopped at the bland look Nami was giving him and then it clicked. “Sorry, you’re in charge. What do you want to do next, Nami-san?”

“Thank you,” she replied tartly, in jest. “So, what we need to do now is make some extra marmalade, because we’ll have none after this and then the orange sauce. But I don’t suggest we make that until the duck’s finished its second cook,” she finished smartly, eyebrows raised and looking pleased with herself. Almost as if daring him to say something.

“Excellent suggestion! This is why you’re the chef and I’m the lowly assistant,” he praised, more than happy to play into the joke.

Nami laughed then and he’d been right, playing into the joke was more than worth it when her sunny smile soon turned on him.

“Right then, you scrub the mikans and I’ll measure out the water and bring it to the boil,” she instructed and then they were back into the task once again.

They were back to moving around each other as the mikans were placed into the boiling water to simmer until they were soft and Sanji was getting the pre-peeled potatoes out of the fridge to cut and get ready for roasting. There were a few moments in-between where Nami would stand just that bit too close or lean into him to see what he was doing and he had to remind himself to focus, to not think about how warm she felt or how nice she smelt. It was a challenge to say the least.

The scent of the duck was soon wafting through the kitchen and Sanji was kneeling down beside Nami to check the duck. He praised her technique when she wiggled the leg to check how it was cooking, and she told him how Bell-mère had shown her when she was young.

“If you’d do the honours,” she asked, stepping away from the oven to grab a bowl for the duck fat to be drained.

He was more than happy to comply as he lifted the grate the duck was sitting on and drained the fat from the tray beneath. “Using me for my muscles, huh?” He joked as he placed the duck back onto the tray and into the oven for the second cook.

“Just one of the perks of having you around,” she said coyly, looking up at him from under half-lidded eyes and oh god, it felt like he couldn’t breathe. His tie definitely felt too tight right now. He gulped heavily and her eyes traced down to watch the action, which only made it worse.

And then he was free as she turned around as if nothing had happened. He was going to end up with whiplash at this rate, although he couldn’t complain too much. He was enjoying this. This couldn’t be his imagination at this point, right?

By then the mikans were soft and once they were out of the water, Nami and Sanji were both scooping out the innards to put into the muslin bag. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Nami’s eyebrows pinched together and she looked so focused on the task, to get all the innards out and into the bag. She must have felt it as her gaze shifted to him and her focused determination shifted into something softer. He felt like a little boy being caught stealing biscuits from the jar before dinner and his eyes were shooting back to the mikan in his hands as a flush worked onto his cheeks.

“Okay, I’m done. We need to cut the rind next,” Nami said and when he eventually made eye contact, he was faced with an all too knowing look on her face, something that did nothing to help the heat on his cheeks.

He cleared his throat then. “Fine or chunky?” He knew she liked it finely cut but she was in charge and he’d always indulge her.

“Fine, please.” She beamed up at him.

His hands moved the knife swiftly through the rinds with precision, gliding across the board and watching as the pieces got smaller and smaller with each cut. That was until he could feel eyes on him and was met by Nami’s piercing gaze from the corner of his eye. He hummed at her in question.

“I can work a knife well enough, but not like that. I’m a bit jealous,” Nami admitted, watching the knife glide across with board with no hesitation.

“Years of practice,” he reassured, “And plenty of cut fingers. In the early days Zeff wouldn’t let me do anything but chop. Said I had to get the basics right first and at the time I resented him for it, but now I get it.”

“I don’t fancy cutting my fingers, but any tips?”

Sanji smiled at that. “I don’t blame you. We couldn’t possibly damage Nami-san’s gorgeous hands.” Nami laughed at that and elbowed him good naturedly on the arm. “But if you tuck your fingertips under, you can move quicker without the risk of chopping them off. Much harder to cut yourself but if you do, the worst you’ll do is take the skin off.”

Then his hand was over hers, showing her how to place her fingers and his eyes were nervously shooting up to her face. It was ridiculous, they’d touched each other multiple times, she’d certainly had no qualms about touching him, yet he still worried about pushing it too far. This felt intimate and he didn’t want to overstretch the elastic band until it snapped. Yet she wasn’t looking at him, she was looking down at her own hands and moving them accordingly.

She started cutting again when he moved away and although it was nowhere near as quick or precise as him, it was a vast improvement. “See!”

“I know you’re just humouring me-” she rolled her eyes “-but I’ll take it.”

“Everyone has to start somewhere!”

The muslin bag was added back into the water with the sliced mikan rinds. Nami started adding the sugar and stirring it to dissolve it. With everything going on, the kitchen was slowly getting hotter and hotter. Sanji had already removed his jacket but he used the quiet moment to roll up his sleeves to his elbows and loosen his tie. It’d probably make more sense to remove his vest, but he didn’t miss the way Nami’s eyes lingered over it when she thought he wasn’t watching. So that would be the last thing to go, if he really had to.

“How often did you make this when you were younger?” He normally didn’t ask questions about her childhood unless she brought it up first, but he felt they’d passed that barrier. This was a bit of a test to see whether it was true.

“Every Sunday. It was cheap to make and Bell-mère enjoyed cooking with us. We’d have it on toast for breakfast for the week coming.”

Sanji let her talk as she stopped stirring the simmering marmalade and he moved to add the duck fat to the potatoes to put them in the oven with the duck.

“Afterwards,” Nami paused briefly and Sanji understood exactly what she meant, “I’d make it with Nojiko when I’d go home. It’s like she knew I was coming; everything would be ready for when I arrived,” Nami smiled fondly, leaning back against the counter.

The duck would be done in a few minutes, but before then they had a marmalade to finish. He grabbed the dishes he’d put into the freezer earlier and Nami joined him when he set them on the side next to the simmering marmalade.

“You know how to check this?”

“Of course, I’m a marmalade connoisseur, were you not listening?” She teased and hip checked him cheekily, to which he breathed out a laugh and handed her a spoon.

He wondered if the heat and the few hours they’d spent hauled in the kitchen were getting to them. They giggled like schoolgirls as the bickered playfully back and forth about whether the marmalade was set as they poked and prodded it. It wasn’t the most professional thing to be doing but he couldn’t find it within himself to care. It was always lovely to see her like this. Especially around him.

The playful atmosphere dispersed as quickly as it’d arrived when Nami lifted her thumb to her mouth to lick the marmalade off. His mouth suddenly felt too dry. The scene before him played out in slow motion in his head and he was left wondering if it did for her too. It certainly didn’t help that she maintained eye contact as she did it, her tongue darting out to lick away at the marmalade there and he couldn’t believe he was jealous of a thumb right now.

All of his reservations were flying out of the window in the next moment as he suddenly crowded her, all of her teasing over the past week and today coming to a head. It was sink or swim… and was she leaning into him?

Any speck of confidence that he’d had in that moment deflated as the oven beeped at them and he was both cursing and thanking the oven. He’d either just missed his moment (again) or was saved from messing this all up. He hated how he swung between both scenarios so quickly.

“I’ll get the duck,” he croaked as he took a step back and smooth his apron out, just to give his hands something to do.

Nami nodded at him and turned back to the marmalade to start spooning it into glass jars.

Did she look disappointed?

The atmosphere in the kitchen was awkward and there was no avoiding it, even as he took the duck out and she soaked the pot in the sink. It was deafening and his brain was left scrambling on how to rectify it quickly.

As he put the duck on top of the cooker, he settled on apologising. He’d overstepped, he could hardly call himself a gentleman if he didn’t.

The apology was on the tip of his tongue as he turned to face her but died a quick death when he realised how close she was to him.

“You have sauce here. No idea how you managed that,” Nami said and got even closer, so, so close, as her hand reached for him.

When she wiped sauce from the corner of his mouth, he finally broke, any self-doubt crumbling around him and falling to the floor. The act was so intimate, her hand cupping his jaw and her thumb lingering at the side of face and she’s so close to him that he moved without really thinking.

He leaned down to press a tentative, albeit clumsy, kiss to her lips. He didn’t manage to land it fully on her lips, slightly off centre, but there was no mistaking what he’s done.

He’s both relieved, for finally doing something that’s plagued his mind for a week, but terrified because he could still be wrong. He stopped breathing as he pulled away.

“Have I overstepped?” He’s terrified to ask, but he has to.

Nami doesn’t pull away in disgust like he thought she would, or worse slap him, but she also doesn’t say anything for a second. He’s stunned her it seemed, so maybe that slap could still be coming.

It doesn’t.

The expression melted off after a second and he watched her eyes warm and her lips slowly curve upward, and he never wanted to look at anything else ever again.

He’s watching her lips as they part to breath out a murmured, “Finally,” and then she’s tugging him down by his tie to press their lips softly together this time.

Any hesitancy flew out of the window as Nami initiated the second kiss and his hands are on her back, somewhat confidently, to bring her in closer.

The second kiss is nowhere near as clumsy as the first when Sanji got to take his time with it and take his time he would. This is all he’d ever dreamed of since meeting the woman in his arms and he’d savour and stretch this moment for as long as he was allowed to.

He was in no hurry as he pressed their lips back together in a series of pecks, lips moving languidly against the others as they found their rhythm. Sanji felt like he was sinking, her lips were so soft, and her hands were so warm as they released his tie to smooth over his chest. Although he’d wanted to keep the pace slow, he couldn’t help it when his tongue brushed against the seal in her lips.

And closed mouth kisses soon turned into open mouth kisses. Something that he should have done much sooner. She tasted of the marmalade they’d made, and he couldn’t think of a better way to try it for the first time. He chased after the taste, groaning when her tongue reciprocated in kind. Her hands left his chest, travelling up to play with the hair at nape of his neck and his hands sunk to her hips to squeeze at the feeling of her playing with his hair.  

He hadn’t even realised that she’d been walking them back until her back hit the counter and he could finally press against her as tightly as he wanted to. Everything about this felt amazing, her taste, her touch. His previous fantasies could never have lived up to the real thing.

He pulled back briefly to let them breath, but it was a short interlude before he was kissing her again.

It wasn’t nearly long enough when Nami tried to pull away, muffling a quiet, “Sanji”, against his lips that did nothing but encourage him.

“Sanji,” she said louder this time, winding down the kissing into pecks again. “There’s still sauce to make, marmalade to put away and potatoes to deal with,” she reminded him, her hands leaving his hair to rest on his shoulders and put a bit of space between them. He didn’t let her go too far, but he did move his hands to her waist- a more sensible placement whilst he tried to compose himself and actually acknowledge what she was saying.

“You should think about adding this step into the cooking method,” he teased after a second. He could spare another moment before he had to act semi-professional again and finish dinner.

“You’re an awful assistant, Sanji-kun, distracting the chef like this,” she jokingly scolded him as she half-heartedly slapped his shoulder.

“Oh, you wound me, Nami-san.” One of hands clasped over his heart dramatically and Nami snorted in response.

“Far too distracting,” she said, her hands snaking down to him back to play with the fabric of his waistcoat. He knew it.

“Like you’re one to talk.” Eyes skimming across the apron that’d teased him throughout that day, he was far too into it considering what it was.

He leaned back in to press another lingering kiss to her lips. He would do it; he would step away and get back to work. He tried to convince himself, but it was getting harder and harder to as the seconds ticked by. In his defence, she kissed him back. She pulled away from the kiss a second later, like she’d read his mind, and covered his eager lips with her hand to stop him pressing forward again.

“No slacking in my kitchen, little eggplant,” she murmured against his jaw, planting a kiss there afterwards- like that was going to help him focus.

He froze at her words. Oh god. He didn’t know whether he was going to faint or have a heart attack. He was confident he’d be able to pull off both. Only Nami could make that nickname sound sexy.

“I’m not sure how I feel about that,” Sanji breathed back, sightly muffled behind her hand.  

“Good or bad?” She asked, curious, and pulled her hand away to rest back on his shoulder.

“Good because you make it sound so good, but bad because I have to fight off the images of Zeff.”

“You’re making it sound like a challenge to change that.”

Oh god. Oh god. He wouldn’t be able to face Zeff ever again if she had her way. And he wasn’t sure if that was something to complain about or not. It wasn’t, he decided quickly, it was stupid to even entertain thinking of that negatively. He’d probably beg for it too, that’s just how powerful she was.  

She smiled up at him, like she knew exactly what she was doing, and she probably did.

He was rewarded with one last kiss, short and sweet, before she was stepping away and ordering him on how to make the sauce. Back to business. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

This might just beat peeling potatoes with her.

----------------------------------------

Am I ever going to get over confession stories? Probably not.

As always, please excuse any errors.

Thanks for reading.

#SaNami #SaNa #SanNami #SanjixNami #opfanfic #opwriting #one piece #Nami #Sanji

[whirlybirdwhat]

Prompt: modern au (?) Gin wants to ask Sanji out, but he has to go through Zeff first

let me preface this with a HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIN I LOVE YOU!!!!  and a thank you for the request! 

Now, onto the story! Also read it here on ao3!

what you do for love

Gin has broken into a great many places. Some were worth it! Some were not. Some had the security of Fort Knox, and others were like an open door. He’s done it across the coast from east to west, but never, never, has he found a place so hard to get into like the Baratie.

And this time he isn’t even doing it for fucking Krieg!

It’s for Sanji.

Whom he likes, very much, and would like to invite on a date, thank you very much.

It’s not happening – different schools, Sanji has work, Gin has a job, Sanji’s taking down governments with his own gang, there’s never a time to get to him.

So Gin decided to ask him out at Sanji’s work.

Only… Gin had forgotten that the Baratie wasn’t only Sanji’s workplace… but his home. Where his dad and pseudo big brothers lived.

The first time he walked in to ask, he was met with Zeff, smaller than Gin but twice as muscular with a mean kick despite only having one leg. Zeff had given him a once over, taking in Gin’s leather jacket, tattoos, bandana and flyer to next month’s fight arena and promptly… did nothing, except give Gin a warm meal.

(It wasn’t the first time, nor the last.)

Until that is, Gin went up to go talk to Sanji.

Then Zeff swept his feet out from under him and sent him flying out the door, laughing.

From his place on the sidewalk, hidden by the high storefront windows, Gin heard Sanji asking “What was that,” and Zeff brushing him off.

Surely a fluke, Gin foolishly thought.

Only to find that the second time he went in, Carne was there, waiting with a strong hand to lift Gin by his collar and drag him out to the back-door entryway and throw him into the ground outside.

“Bye,” Gin could see Carne mouthing, mischief in his eye, followed by a swear.

Fuck off! Gin wanted to scream back but decided to rest in the ground instead, contemplating his failure.

Why, he thought, why.

He tried again, and again, and again. Zeff kicked him out the window with a first aid, kick, did a round of combat with flying kicks, gave him a warm meal then had Patty and Carne throw him onto the shallow beach outside.

Gin didn’t get it, because each time Zeff had this look that he approved of Gin, which, what.

Why was he kicking him out then?

Dads were weird as fucking hell.

After the seventh time this happened, Gin decided to get a little smarter, which leads to the current situation: breaking into the Baratie.

Which, as previously mentioned, is hard as hell.

He doesn’t want to get to the money, so he’s thankfully avoided the more dubious traps, but he’s tapping on what he assumes to be Sanji’s window and it’s not opening.

He questions why he thought this was a good idea, then remembers that Sanji did the same thing last year because he wanted to ask what food Gin wanted for his birthday, so this is just him returning the favor.

The windows finally opening, thank fuck, he was scaling the gutter for this.

“Hey, San-” That’s not Sanji.

That’s Zeff.

“Shit.” Gin says out loud and isn’t fast enough to dodge the kick that smacks him into sliding down the gutter.

Fuck.

Zeff gives him a wave, throws down and ice pack, and leaves.

Should have known Red Leg Zeff wouldn’t let anyone near his home without his permission. Hell, even the gang members follow his lead.

Gin sighs, staring up at the window which apparently isn’t Sanji’s, and decides he’s not being smart enough.

Or maybe, he thinks, staring at the straw-hatted jolly roger emblazoned in graffiti on the side of the building, I’m not being crazy enough.

-

Gin’s phone was destroyed in a fight two weeks back, half of his troubles with talking to Sanji, but that also means he has to track down the Straw Hats in person.

It’s not the most difficult task though – just look for the biggest commotion and you’re sure to find at least one Straw Hat in the fray.

Gin turns the corner, swearing to find a Straw Hat tonight, and runs smack into the Straw Hat, who is sprinting and holding a bag of what looks to be… meat themed jewelry? Gold? Gold nuggets but chicken nuggets? Gin can’t tell and doesn’t want to ask, but takes the opportunity anyway.

(The world always had a way to fall exactly into Luffy’s whims, and Gin supposes that if this must be happening it’s a sign of hope.)

“Straw hat!” Gin shouts, snatching out a hand and dragging Luffy into the alley corner.

“Bandana Guy!” Luffy says happily as Smoker rushes by the alley entrance. “What’s up? Sanji misses you!”

Gin lets a dopey smile bleed onto his face before speaking. “Yeah, I miss him to which is why I need your help right? I need you to bring your crew into the Baratie tomorrow, around sixish, and cause a ruckus so I can ask Sanji out, alright? Zeff and the others keep kicking me out.”

“They do that to you too? Shishishi! Sanji’s dad says I’m not allowed there without superpowers.”

“I think you mean supervision, anyway, will you be there?”

“Party at the Baratie tomorrow night, got it!”

That’s as close as Gin is going to get with Straw Hat, so he lets them go.

Time to get ready for action.

-

Gin should have expected this. He really should have expected this.

This being the Strawhat’s starting the ‘party’ whenever they feel like it, which is not six which was planned but five.

Gin sighs.

Whatever.

He can make this work.

Gin walks into the Baratie and, for once, is not immediately accosted by members of the Baratie’s staff.

Straw-hat can’t follow a plan but at least he can cause a ruckus. Gin looks to the left where the swordsman is balancing bottles of beer on his swords to raucous cheering, and steps to the right.

And then Gin spots him. Sanji, coming out of the kitchen, laughing and smiling the way he’s only prone to do around his crew (and Gin, on occasion.)

He’s not talking to anybody, just enjoying the chaos, which means this is Gin’s chance.

His only chance.

There’s a flash of yellow in his vision, accompanied by two flashes of white, and Gin knows he has to move fast if he wants to beat Zeff and Carne and Patty.

Gin runs, jumping over smashed glass and dodging around rushing waiters, all the while shouting “SANJI!”

Zeff trips him but he manages to turn into a roll, and comes up standing right in front of Sanji.

“Sanji!” He says again, out of breath but with a smile on his face, offering the carefully folded but now crumpled flyer in his hand. “Would you – would you like to go with me to Red Line’s Battle Arena on the twenty-third… as a date? If your family doesn’t kill me first?”

Sanji’s staring at him, and he hopes he hasn’t said the wrong thing. He had thought the date out perfectly, it was something they both enjoyed, food provided, near the sea, he had tickets to the booth seating so it wasn’t as chaotic as usual and –

Sanji cuts off his internal monologue with a smile. “Yes. I’d love to.”

Gin practically faints only managing to keep himself upright through sheer determination. He doesn’t know what to say after this, hadn’t really thought that far but—

“FINALLY!”

“Brat smartened up at last.”

“Now we can tease ‘em both at once! Boss, can we kick them both out?”

“Not until the party’s over. But yes. Eventually.”

“HELL YEAH!”

Gin is lost at the commotion coming from the chef’s around him, who have now stopped attacking him and started cheering for him.

Like… what?

Sanji takes pity on him. “They’ve been teasing me for months about you, trying to get me to ask you out. You stopped showing up so…”

“Oh. That was because your family kicked me out when I was trying to ask you out. Its been going on for a month. Tried banging on your window and everything but they literally kicked me out.”

“Oh.” Sanji starts snickering.

“Yeah.” Gin says to his boyfriends(?) apparent mirth at the situation.

Sanji snorts one last time before turning to his family and screeching. Gin swears there’s fire coming off of him as he yells “WHAT THE HELL YOU SHITTTY BASTARDS!? WHY THE FUCK WERE YOU KICKING HIM OUT? WHY ARE YOU THIS STUPID THIS COULD HAVE BEEN DONE AGES AGO AND-“

“It’s cause we like ya!”

“Yeah! We have to tease you!”

“Making up for that time you kicked me in the face.”

“And me! And the time you met the Straw Hat Brat!”

“Yeah!”

Zeff cuts in through the shouting. “Eggplant, you’re a bit short on the braincells. Had to make sure this brat was good enough to replace the ones you’ve lost. He passes. Welcome to the family brat, we got cake in the back. Straw Hat told us to throw a party, and I’m sure Sanji mentioned that it was your birthday today. Eat up.”

Gin gets a caked shoved in his hand and a hug from Sanji in a matter of seconds, followed by approving nods from the rest of the Baratie Staff as the Straw Hat pirates cause chaos in the background.

He’s bewildered. Confused. Bamboozled. Any other word to describe this feeling. Sanji just laughs at his face.

“They’re always like this,” he explains. “When Luffy first invited me to join his crew they thought pretending that they hated my food was a good way to make me leave and chase some dreams. You can see how well that turned out, but that’s just how they are. Hazing the new guy and me, at every. Single. Opportunity. Ugh.” Sanji’s complaining, but Gin can tell he loves this place.

“I can see that,” He says, and watches how Sanji smiles so brilliantly. “You want to escape this mess?”

Sanji laughs. “Definitely. Happy birthday, Gin.” He places a kiss on Gin’s cheek and strolls out the back door, waiting for him.

Gin smiles in return. “Thanks, Sanji.”

Zeff nods one last time behind his back before turning away.

Gin has finally passed the Baratie Bar of approval.

Thank God. That was exhausting.

#whirlywhat #whirlyanswers #whirlywrites #op #one piece #opau #might add this to my other op au lol #HAPPY BDAY GIN ILY #gin #ginsan #sanji #zeff #luffy #monkey d. luffy #red leg zeff #carne #patty #writing #fanfiction #ao3 #opfic

[itsthemoofacewriting]

Potato peeling

I shared one of my head canons with Monkey-d-momo and then the next day it kind of spiralled out of control in my head, to the point where I had to leave my half-destroyed Animal Crossing island to come and write this out. So, this is for you, Momo!

Summary: Sanji's had never had an assistant before, but now, at least once a week, Nami's there to keep him company. Rating: K. 

This can also be found on AO3 and FFN. 

Enjoy.

Sanji made a point not to think too deeply about his childhood before Baratie, but now he’s racking his brain in search for a time, any time, that he could ever remember having an assistant in the kitchen. Not other chefs that were working around him on their own dishes or bus boys or dish washers, someone by his side just to help him. Although, when he thought about it, back then he would have refused the help, with his ego far too proud as a fledging chef.

He spent a lot of time alone cooking and there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s what he was trained to do, and he enjoyed it. Enjoyed creating dishes that’ll fill empty stomachs and watching as delight bloomed across his crewmates face when they took their first bite. But now, as Nami hummed next to him, eyebrows drawn together in concentration as she stirred the sauce in the pot, he realised how much he liked having an assistant. How much he liked having the company.

It also helped that it was fantastic company. Nothing gets better than Nami-san.

The first time she’d walked in to offer help, he’d tried to persuade her to relax instead, in the kitchen of course because he’d never turn her away, but she hadn’t listened. She’d fixed him with a hard stare as his words rolled over her and held her hand out, waiting for a knife to help him peel potatoes.

That was a few weeks ago now, and he’s glad she didn’t listen to him. His kitchen is now filled with humming, quiet conversations or peaceful silences- with someone. It’s nice. It’s not every day, after all she’s the navigator, not the cook and she does have other responsibilities. But those little moments together, at least once per week now, made him start to notice the difference. Nothing bad, he still loved to cook but there’s no one peering over his shoulder to see what he’s doing or how he’s doing it (or asking for food- Luffy) or shooting him wonderfully smart remarks that bring a smile to his face or… well, he could go on all day.

They get along very well in those small moments together, when they’re not fighting for their lives or surrounded by the rest of the crew and it makes him happy. He got to see her truly relaxed, walls down, and their actions are almost domestic, and it made his head spin slightly. He tried not to think too much about that though when he’s dealing with sharp objects or high temperatures.

But he does wonder what spurred this on, the thought lingered in the back of his head. Her offer came completely out of the blue and they’d already been sailing together for so long, so naturally he wondered why. She’d never offered any explanation and he hadn’t asked, because why would he? He was thrilled to have time alone with her and to pass on his knowledge to someone who was so interested.

She hadn’t helped him tonight though, not that she said she would, mind you. Sometimes she’d mention in passing that she’d be there but other times she’d just appear, and it kept him on his toes.

After dinner though, as she put her plate on the side (just before he could get it for her), she left him with a quick, “See you later” and was gone. Maybe he was becoming too predictable because whilst dinner may be finished with, she knew he would occasionally prep ingredients for the next day and apparently, he’d have her company for that tonight without even breathing a word of it.

He couldn’t wait.

.

.

.

As much as he’d like to wait for her, that’s never how this worked. Sometimes she’d come later, depending on whether she got held up with something, so he always started, and she’d join in.

Tonight, he went to the toilet after organising the potatoes he’d need for the next day but on his short trip he didn’t catch sight of her. That wasn’t necessarily bad, but it could mean she’d been distracted with something. It was foolish, because he knew how this worked and he shouldn’t expect this from her, but he was slightly disappointed. He shook his head; he was being ridiculous.

Despite giving himself a talking to in the toilet, it didn’t stop his eyes from drifting to see if the orange haired navigator was around. He was sorely tempted to knock on the library door to offer her a drink, just to confirm it but he stopped his feet from wondering off course.

So when he pushed open the door to the kitchen, he couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping to stare at the sight of Nami already sat down on one of the stools, knife carefully peeling the potato in her hands.

So, she’d beaten him here, huh?

He didn’t get the chance to compose himself before she was looking up and her lips curled upwards, like she could read his thoughts.

“You’re slacking, Sanji-kun. I thought you’d abandoned me to peel potatoes all by myself,” she teased.

He smiled then. “Never, Nami-san. The day that happens I’d forfeit my own hands.”

She smiled back at him and they settled into comfortable silence as he sat on the stool opposite her, taking the knife she’d left out for him and grabbing a potato. There’s something relaxing about doing this. The same sweeps of the knife almost sent him into a trance and all the stress of the day bleeds from him as his mind wondered. He’d never found potato peeling a chore. It anything, he looked forward to the monotony of it.

He’s not sure how long they peel in the quiet of the kitchen, but he almost jumped as Nami started to quietly talk.

“The first time I offered to help, it was because I missed Bell-mére,” she said it softly and it should sound sad, but she sounded soft instead. “She used to get me peeling the potatoes when I had nothing to do or thought I’d studied for too long.”

Ah. Well, that answered one of Sanji’s questions. There was something quite special about not having to ask after the reason but being told instead. She wasn’t always very forthcoming about her childhood and he’d never blamed her; he hadn’t been either. It’s why he never enquired.

“You should have seen the first time I’d ever done it; you’d have turned in your grave. There was almost nothing left by the time it’d been peeled and I’d somehow managed to cut myself multiple times,” she continued, chuckling to herself and dropped a perfectly peeled potato into the steel bucket before moving onto the next one. “She hadn’t been angry though. Well, she had at my cut fingers, but she stopped what she was doing to show me how to peel the carrots next.”

“I’m not surprised she wasn’t angry. I can’t imagine being angry with you now, let alone when you were younger.” It was the truth; it was no secret that he was soft around children and he’d seen first-hand a young Nami- she was adorable. He’d have stood no chance.

Still doesn’t.

“What about you?” She asked tentatively, eyes flickering up to his, unsure about whether this was a topic that she should broach. That she could breach.

Sanji smiled lightly and answered with ease, his voice filled with fondness at the memory. “My Mum thought the world of whatever I made. Some of it was truly horrible, Nami-san, I’d had no training whatsoever apart from some tatty books and the opinions of mice.”

“I find that hard to believe- about being a horrible cook, that is. Feeding mice I’m totally on board with.”

He picked up another potato before he responded, “It’s true! There were pieces of eggshells in it, it was overcooked, yet also undercooked because I hadn’t set the oven properly.” There was a firm smile on his face though, despite the description he was giving.

“I sense this didn’t deter her,” she guessed, pausing the potato peeling as she waited for his response.

He laughed. “Not at all. She still boasted to the nurses and handmaids whenever she had the chance and when I was leaving, she’d tell me to bring some more next time.”

“Ah. So that’s where you get your kind heart from.” She nodded to herself, like she’d solved a piece of her own puzzle.

He tried to keep his cool, but he couldn’t stop the blush that bloomed across his cheeks. Instead of responding to that, he decided to continue on.

“On the cruise ship I worked on before Baratie, I was passable at best, but definitely better than the rest of the chefs. The real wakeup call was when I got to Baratie. Zeff was horrified by the bad habits I’d picked up and spent all his time picking on me.”

“Like what?” At his blank look she clarified, “How did he pick on you?”

“Ragging on me in front of staff and customers. To be fair, I probably needed to be taken down a peg or too. I couldn’t be told back then. Oh, and that damned peg leg, hurt like hell,” he groaned, recalling the way Zeff had kicked him when he’d wanted to throw away fresh food. “The worst, though, was the nickname- little eggplant. That’ll haunt me to my dying day. He had no tact, the damn old man, and he’d call me it regardless of who was around. Even the regulars knew of it.”

“Fatherly love, then,” she summarised, an affectionate smile on her face.

Sanji laughed but nodded his head. “Unfortunately so.”

They continued on like that, trading stories back and forth from their childhood. Not always revolving around cooking in Nami’s case, but small things, like the time she’d convinced Nojiko to let her cut in a fringe and her sister had wound up with a mullet until it grew out or how Sanji had singed his hair trying to show off around the oven.

The pile of unpeeled potatoes started to dwindle as the bucket with peeled potatoes filled up. Sanji was so lost in conversation that he hadn’t noticed until they were both reaching in for the last potato and as they both look at each other and down to the last potato, he felt a competitive thrill go through him. He managed to snag the potato just before she could, but she didn’t look sour about it, so he took that as a sign to crack on.

There were no more potatoes to peel but Nami still stayed sitting with him.

“So, what made you stick around?” It was ballsy and he was risking scaring her off, but it’s the one thing she hadn’t freely given during their conversation and he really wanted to know. To finally scratch the itch of curiosity.

Nami doesn’t respond straight away, she fiddled with the knife in her hands and it’s only for a second, but it felt like a lifetime to Sanji. He was holding his breath, waiting for some form of reaction from her.

She breathed out and finally looked at him. “I realised I enjoyed spending time with you.”

That’s not the explanation he’d expected. At all.

He has to fight down the urge to sputter off nonsense, it would not win him her favour. “I enjoy spending time with you too.”

“I didn’t doubt that for a second,” she said, her voice playful.

There’s a clever smile on her face and as much as he enjoyed that, he wanted her to know he was serious. He enjoyed her company.

“I’m serious,” he hummed, not looking up from the final potato he’s peeling, and he might need to long this one out, just to keep himself busy, so he didn’t chicken out. “I’ve always enjoyed cooking, but you’ve only made it better with your company. I’ve never had an assistant before, but I’m glad it was you.”

Nami’s flushed and she looked like she was struggling on how to respond. He wondered if he’d gone too far. It’s not how he’d planned this evening to go and it’s clearly not what she’d intended either. Yet here they were.

“Because I’m a woman or…” She trailed off and the silent ‘because it’s me’ is left in the air, but they both know it’s there.  

She’s watching his face carefully and he doesn’t know what to make of that. It felt like he was balancing on a tight rope and any wrong answer will have him plummeting without a safety net to catch him. The last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable or put an end to their occasional kitchen activities together.

It almost sounded like a confession when he finally spoke, and he supposed it was.

“Because it’s you,” he said, his voice sure and face even.

The tension in the room increased tenfold and it felt like he needed to use one of the knifes to cut at it. It’s diffused instantly when Nami smiled softly at him and it sent his heart racing.

The next second she’s up on her feet, leaving their potato peeling bubble, like nothing happened. “We need to put these in water and into the fridge, right?”

“Yeah,” he replied breathlessly, stunned by the sudden shift. What had even just happened?

She walked into the kitchen, pulling out a much smaller container and filling it with water. She turned and raised an eyebrow as he’s still sitting there. He realised a beat later that she’s waiting for him to follow after her with the potatoes. Who was the professional chef here? He was on his feet in seconds before he could be prompted any further and they fall back into their normal pace, like nothing had happened.

… Had anything happened? He’s going to need some time alone to replay this scene and figure it out.

As soon as he’s done putting the potatoes away safely in the bottom of the fridge, ready for tomorrow, Nami’s done washing up the knives they’d used and then it’s just them, alone in the kitchen.

Nami’s leaning against the kitchen unit, arms folded and looking at him expectantly, because she doesn’t look like she’s leaving anytime soon. It made him nervous and he resisted the urge to play with his hands.

“Thank you for your help, Nami-san,” he said gratefully, and he really meant it. He hoped she knew that, that it came across.

“Anytime, Sanji-kun.” She pushed away from the counter to walk towards him and he’s frozen, watching her get closer and closer until he had to tilt his head down to keep looking at her face.

Her hands are on his tie and he realised after a beat that she’s adjusting it. He’d loosened it earlier, like he always did this late at night and she knew that too. He wondered if this was an excuse to touch him, but he squashed that thought down as quickly as it appeared. Maybe it just looked weird.

Her hands are warm and as she played with his tie, they brush against his chest and it sent his heart into fits.

When she looked up at him, seemingly happy with the end result, and she’s so close that he could count the fair freckles that litter her nose if he wanted to. And he really wanted to, but he’s distracted by the way her eyes are searching his. She looked expectant and he didn’t know what to do with that. Or what she wanted.

Nami lingered, her hands still clasping his tie lightly but resting against his chest idly and he’s stopped breathing because it’s all slightly overwhelming and he didn’t want the moment to break before he figured out what he’s supposed to be doing. The voice in the back of his head is screaming at him to ‘make a move, you idiot’, but he can’t bring himself to act on it. What if he’s wrong? What if he’s building this up to be something bigger than it actually is?

There’s another long moment where he can practically feel her breath on his face before she’s pulling away and he’s instantly regretting not acting on what the voice had told him because he felt like he’d just missed his moment.

The smirk on her face made him wonder if that’s not the case at all.

She released his tie and patted his chest before taking a step back. He missed the closeness already.

“Goodnight, Sanji,” she said lowly and then she’s turning around, walking towards the door.

The door swung closed behind her and for the first time in hours, he’s left alone in the kitchen. The scent of her perfume is still under his nose and the skin under his shirt burned from where she’d touched him.

He’s not sure what’s just happened. From the atmosphere to her new behaviour, he’s left reeling trying to catch up. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but this seemed to be a new development… towards something.

But right now, it’s late and his brains just turned to mush, so he’s not figuring it out now. He just hoped he could get his mind to settle down enough that he’d be able to actually sleep.

He flicked the kitchen light off behind him.

------------------------------------------

So. The tiny little drabble this was supposed to be has now turned into a two part-er. I messaged Momo when I’d almost finished writing the first part and gave her two possible endings to choose from when this was originally a one-shot. Momo picked one and my brain betrayed me (and my other WIPs) by going ‘do both’. So here we are.

The second part is almost finished- I’m aiming for it to be up in a week max.

Please excuse any errors.

Thanks for reading.

#SaNami #SanNami #sana #sanjixnami #opfanfic #opwriting #one piece #Nami #Sanji