leventart-den - Tumblr blog

leventart-den · 5 months

Text

Ch.02 of Interactive ZoSan fanfic.

AN:

Hi guys! Did I say I'll do 1k word chapters? I lied. This one is almost 5,500 words. Please be careful and look at the tags.

Beta-readed by wonderful @dad-cahoon ! Thank you so much for your help! AO3 link. I hope you will be satisfied with your choice. Without further ado, let's continue.

***

-= My 4am Sun =-

Ch.02 “Good intentions and Nothing's wrong”

Sanji turned off the tap, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and feeling a dry cough creeping up his throat. What the hell is going on with him? All these symptoms are all over the place and do not add up to a single picture at all. If he had been injured or poisoned or something like that, at least he would have felt something specific. But this... this is getting weirder and weirder. At least his modified body has time to react and tries to fix the problem. If you think about it... perhaps that is precisely the reason why he continues to function even when his consciousness turns off. Sanji isn't sure if this is good or bad, though. Not having control over his actions worries him, of course. But at least it's not someone controlling him, it's his own reflexes and knowledge and so he trusts himself not to cause trouble to others. At least he really wants to think so.

Sanji coughs, feeling the familiar metallic taste on his tongue and hearing the door to the kitchen open, so he hastily wipes his lips with his sleeve just in case. His shirt is dark today, nothing will be visible on it. He doesn’t turn around yet, but he hears the familiar sound of footsteps and the subtle chime of metal on metal. He knows it too well.

He knows even before he hears the annoying…

"Oi, cook! Luffy is ready to start chewing his own leg. When's the food?" It's rough and a little too loud for the isolated silence of his kitchen a moment ago. Yes, that's him. Idiot mosshead.

Sanji swallows and exhales, turning to the intruder, ready to snap back. He knows the drill. But at the last moment he changes his mind. He doesn't feel like starting to argue now. He feels too exhausted.

"Tell everyone they can pull up in five minutes." His answer is short and dry as his throat is now, but he doesn’t care. Sanji walks past Zoro, taking plates out of the cabinet and getting ready to set the table. The other is silent. He doesn't go anywhere. Sanji placed the plates on the table and began arranging the cutlery.

Zoro was still there, somewhere behind him.

Staring.

Unnerving.

But Sanji doesn't lash out this time as usual. All he wants is to finish breakfast and be left alone with himself to try to understand what is happening to him. If Marimo wants to hang around here and watch, well, fine, he will finish the preparations and call everyone himself, not such a big deal.

Or so he thought.

Sanji went to get larger plates to put the food into when the silence was broken again.

“Oi, shitty cook! What...” The hand accompanying the voice grabbed him by the elbow, stopping him halfway, but Sanji didn’t let him finish. He suddenly felt a pain under his skin, as if in another second his bone would break. He pulled his hand out in panic, stepping back, but realizing what he was doing, he hurried to cover his own fear by biting in response.

"What, Marimo? What the hell do you want? You asked when the food will be ready - I answered. Now sit down and wait in silence or go get fucking lost!" He found himself almost screaming at the end. He was out of breath. It was nothing new for them to argue like this. But for some reason this time it felt wrong and Sanji regretted giving in. From the moment the battle ended and he found himself “losing time” and this strange state of his, everything seemed too much. It overwhelmed him, confused him, preventing him from thinking clearly. He desperately wanted to hide somewhere in a corner away from everything and everyone and be able to breathe out and process everything.

But at the same time, now that he thought about it, he felt guilty that he wanted to be away from the others. They were his nakama, his family. How dare he think about them like that?

Ungrateful.

Useless.

Weak.

As always.

He felt a mocking laugh escape his throat, choking him for a second.

"What the hell is wrong with you, cook..."

Sanji heard the other's voice cut through the beginning ringing in his ears like a hot knife through butter. It snapped him out of his thoughts and for the first time Sanji was grateful for it.

Regardless, he grimaced, still annoyed, and went back to setting the table.

"Nothing's wrong, shithead." he snapped in his usual manner, although a little too hoarsely. He clenched his teeth, swallowing hard against another cough.

He didn't see Zoro watching him intently; otherwise he would have noticed the gloomy concern so unusual for the one-eyed swordsman.

There was something strange about the cook, Zoro noticed it during the battle. As a warrior, he was used to keeping an eye on his surroundings and those around him, and after so many years of fighting with and against the cook, he unwittingly learned enough to notice when something was off. And now, as the first mate in this crew, Zoro is obliged to figure out what the problem is and take care of eliminating it in order to avoid further possible troubles. It was just that, nothing else, he told himself.

Well… More like he reminded himself if he was completely frank. Because despite the fact that they had never been close friends, Zoro increasingly caught himself thinking that he was too used to the shitty cook and their constant bickering and fighting. And he missed it when he was away. And now, when there is even the slightest shift in their routine, he notices it and wants to immediately fix it, to make it as it was before. He doesn't want any changes when it comes to Curls.

He does not want.

And so he will watch. And if he doesn’t admit what’s going on, he knows him well enough to know what points to press. Despite the fact that Zoro is not the type of person who would manipulate and deceive, in this situation he is ready to resort to it. It's for the cook's own good, after all.

So now Zoro opened his mouth to demand an answer, but approaching voices and the opening of the kitchen door, followed by a demand for food from their captain, stopped him. Zoro sighed, heading to the table - it looked like the conversation would have to be postponed.

Sanji breathed a sigh of relief when the kitchen door opened and Luffy burst inside from the threshold, stretching out his raking hands to the food that the cook had not even managed to put on the table yet. He had felt the shift in energy from the swordsman earlier and was sure that he was going to try to ask him a question again, so the distraction was very welcome. Sanji wasn't sure how it would have ended if that interrogation had continued. Right now, though, everything has slowly returned to normal with noisy pirates in the kitchen and a table laden with food. It seems that everyone has already recovered a little from the night battle and regained their former bright mood.

Sanji still felt the unnerving crawl under his skin and only hoped that breakfast would pass without incident. He served and smiled as always, showering compliments on the girls and barely having time to knock on the captain’s hands so that he wouldn’t steal food from other people’s plates.

God, he loved this so much. He did not realize that in this short time he had missed such a carefree routine. Everything else seemed like a bad dream now. Unfortunately for him though, good things don't last.

He almost tripped when his heart painfully skipped several beats and rushed forward simultaneously with a sickening sensation somewhere in his guts. It’s good that at that moment he was busy on the side preparing dessert and his hesitation would not be noticeable. Sanji bit his tongue, forcing himself to concentrate on what he was doing. "Not now. Not now." He thought angrily to himself. Oh he was angry. This is good. Anger is better than fear. He can work with it.

He put the desserts aside, about to return to the table to check if anyone needed anything, when the shitty swordsman spoke again and Sanji felt like throwing up.

Zoro ate, not really paying attention to the conversations of others and what was happening around him. It bugged him, but his thoughts kept returning to the night's battle and the cook. He can't say when things changed, but he remembers the moment he noticed the other wasn't moving and called out. He didn't get an answer, but Curly got back into motion, throwing kicks and taking down one opponent after another. He was efficient and precise in his attacks and Zoro remembered that, for some reason, that made him nervous. It looked too off. Too lifeless. Not like his usual cook.

Their, he meant, their cook.

And now, watching him, he clearly saw strange signs. A barely noticeable pallor, a sheen of sweat above his brow and hair that curled and stuck to his neck. He could see the tense shoulders and the overly heaving chest under his clothes as he took deep, careful breaths from time to time. Was the stupid cook injured? He didn't look like it when the battle was over. Zoro probably should tell Chopper, but then again that would have been hypocritical on his part. At the end of the day, Dartbrow is a grown ass man and can take care of himself. And if he himself doesn’t turn to Chopper, it means nothing serious. Right?

Right. But knowing his pride and stubbornness, the cook, just like Zoro himself, will walk around with a wound until he passes out. Hell, why is this suddenly bothering him so much? Shitty shittcook. If he doesn't want to tell Zoro what's wrong, then he knows what strings to pull. After all, he never backs down from a challenge. They both don't.

And so he lowers his chopsticks and places a smirk on his lips, raising his voice.

"Oi, cook! Why don't you eat anything? Or is your shitty food so shitty that it makes you sick?" Zoro knew that he was deliberately provoking the cook in order to force him to take care of himself and finally sit down and eat. But the second those words left his mouth, he regretted them. The conversations at the table faltered for a second and Nami gave him a look that he didn't quite understand, but suspected that it was hiding condemnation. Although no one commented on anything, returning to previous conversations, that second of awkwardness in the atmosphere was enough for Zoro to understand that he had gone too far. Everyone loved Sanji's cooking and even Zoro stopped using the topic as a reason to fight over the years. So now it really did sound overly rude.

Zoro felt angry at himself and at the cook for making him look like an idiot. Although he forgot about it the second he saw how pale the curl had become. He looked sick. But despite this, he did not argue, but defiantly took the plate, placed it firmly on the table, sat down and began to eat. His whole demeanor screamed "Here you go, you shitty Marimo! My food is great!"

Yep, never backs down from a challenge. Zoro felt himself grinning. It was like everything was okay.

Except that it wasn't. And the cook's strengthened grip on the fork to stop the shaking of his hand spoke volumes.

It sent a pang somewhere inside Zoro and he didn't like it. He didn't understand this feeling, so he didn't like it.

This has to stop.

Zoro will need to talk to him after breakfast, since no one else noticed anything.

It's strange how Zoro can go days without thinking about Curly at all, but once something like this happens, he can't seem to think about anything else. And this is a distraction that he wants to get rid of.

He caught Robin's knowing glance at him and frowned. It made him nervous. Zoro quickly returned to his food. Which, by the way, was delicious as always, but for some reason he didn’t feel like eating anymore.

Sanji's guts twisted at the mere thought of eating. By this moment, he already clearly knew that something was seriously wrong with his body. It felt as if something was constantly torn and broken in him, and now, for the first time ever, he was glad of his Germa modifications, thanks to which his body was able to regenerate at inhuman speed. He probably would have been dead by now if not for that.

And of course, right now stupid Marimo had to insult his food so of course he couldn't help but accept the challenge. So he sat down and began to eat, feeling each bite scratch his parched throat and taste like ash. The food threatened to rise back up, but Sanji stubbornly continued to eat until his plate was empty. He caught Zoro's eye and flipped him the bird. By this point everyone had finished their main meal and Sanji stood up for dessert, breathing through his nose and trying not to stagger. He felt hot and cold at the same time and just hoped that he didn't look as bad as he felt. It was a blessing that his team, as always, was engrossed in conversation and did not pay attention to him.

When breakfast finally came to an end and Sanji began unloading the dishes into the sink, he glanced in Zoro's direction, seeing him rise from the table, looking at him with the clear intention of approaching him. Sanji felt his heart nervously speed up, pushing the breakfast he had just eaten closer to his throat. But thank all the gods, the swordsman was stopped by Franky, who declared that he needed another pair of strong hands in some new project and dragged him away from the kitchen. Zoro didn't protest and Sanji hoped that he would forget about him while he was busy. Stupid Marimo suddenly became annoyingly persistent and Sanji had absolutely no idea why. Did he suddenly start caring about the cook? No. Definitely not. He must have just gotten bored, as often happens, and wanted a fight. Well, unfortunately for him, Sanji had no time for that now and Zoro will have to find other fun.

The cup clinked against the plate in the sink as his hand slipped from the glass as something stabbed painfully inside him. The kitchen was finally quiet again when the last strawhat left it and closed the door behind him. He was alone again and Sanji wasn't sure if he was happy about it or not, because without a source of distraction he was fully aware of how shitty he felt. He had work to do but he just couldn't bring himself to move. He seriously began to think that maybe it was worth turning to Chopper. But on the other hand, if his problem cannot be solved by the usual medical means, he will only bring anxiety to the little reindeer and the rest.

The numb feeling of a handprint on his back suddenly reminded him of itself and Sanji felt like he was going to throw up.This time for sure. He tasted blood on his tongue. He hastily turned off the water and rushed to the restroom, covering his mouth with his hand and feeling the blood seep through his fingers and flow down his arm into his sleeve. He barely managed to close the door behind himself and fell to his knees in front of the toilet when his body trembled with a violent spasm, pushing blood and what looked suspiciously like chunks of his own flesh out of his throat. Sanji coughed and shook and felt like he couldn't get enough air into his lungs.

His head hurt from lack of oxygen and tension, but he couldn't stop. The blood continued to rise up his throat and he felt like he was drowning in it. He wasn't sure how long it took until all that came out was dry retching. He spat several times, swallowing, and pushed himself away from the toilet, leaning against the nearest wall while sitting on the floor. Everything was spinning and he forced his eyes open, staring at the ceiling. It was hard to breathe, but he couldn't stay like this, he needed to move and get himself in order. He's not dying, at least not yet. His body, cursed by Germa, is already beginning to heal itself, he can feel it. But for how long and how often. Is there a limit to his regeneration? How damaged his body must be so that he cannot recover. This is so inhumane. It's like he's a thing that can be broken and put back together as if nothing happened. There are not even scars and no one will know.

It's that feeling on his back again, pulling him out of his thoughts and reminding him that he has to move. So he moves. Sanji flushes the toilet, doing a quick job of cleaning up the traces of blood on the floor and tossing the tissues into the trash. He leaned against the door, listening if anyone was nearby, and carefully left the restroom, moving into the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

It's a good thing that he kept some spare clothes in a drawer here just in case. They all did, actually. Because it often happened that someone forgot a change of clothes when going to the shower after another game with the captain, which inexorably ended in dirty clothes and bruises.

So now Sanji simply took out another pair of clothes and began to undress. He stopped when he unbuttoned his shirt, inadvertently catching his own reflection in the mirror. He looked terrible. His hair disheveled and stained with blood, as was his face and neck. Thank the gods that no one saw him like that. It’s not that he’s never been seen like this, but it’s one thing when it happens during a battle and quite another in peacetime on a ship.

He doesn't want to make them scared. He doesn't want to upset them. They have enough in their lives for Sanji to add problems to them. That's why he'll try to deal with his own shit himself. He takes a breath and finally takes off his shirt, pauses and then turns his back to the mirror, looking at his reflection over the shoulder. He doesn't know what he expected to see there. Possibly an impact mark or some kind of burn. But definitely not a palm-shaped black ink stain. It also has some runes around the edges. Sanji reaches back and touches the ink with his fingers. It bites back as if full of static. It was weird.

He brought his fingers closer, examining the dark stain on them. It looked dry, like dust, but at the same time did not come off the skin. He looked more closely and almost shuddered when the particles suddenly moved, looking more like miniature needles. The next moment they disappeared under his skin, giving that stabbing sensation again.

"Fucking hell." He cursed under his breath, feeling like he was going to be sick again.

It looks like his situation becoming more and more disgusting. If he got it right, this shit, whatever the hell this is, can move and is migrating somewhere in his body. And worse than that, it can damage him. And kill him, judging by the way his body reacted in the first hours. Was this the work of the fruit user or something else? However, now this is not so important. The important thing is...

"So, you've finally figured it out... Vinsmoke Sanji." It was a whisper, but it seemed that it sounded too loud and was coming from everywhere. Sanji flinched so hard that he almost crashed into the sink. His heart was beating at a crazy speed, he forgot how to breathe. He did not dare to move or say anything, afraid to hear the voice again. Is he really going insane? No, unfortunately, not. Now Sanji was almost sure that he had not imagined the voice, but that it was quite real and that its owner was directly connected with the ink mark. How much worse could things get?

He really shouldn't have asked this question because, as if mockingly, the next second he heard a knock on the bathroom door and a familiar voice.

"Cook! Is that you there? We really need to talk." It was silent for several seconds, clearly waiting for Sanji to respond. "Oi!"

“Fucking, fine!” Sanji barked back, losing his patience completely. Damn Marimo, he has no time for this right now.

"I'll wait here. You won't run away this time." Zoro muttered in response, unusually calm.

Sanji sighed. He's been doing this a lot lately. Well. At least he can still do it, breathe, that is. If Zoro decided to wait for him, then he has no choice but to forget everything and just rush to get himself in order and get it over with.

At least the voice was silent and he's grateful for that.

Sanji hurried to take a quick shower, washing the blood and sweat from his body and hair. Gods, he was disgusting. He brushed his teeth after getting dressed, feeling a little better afterward. He no longer stank and his clothes did not stick to his body so unpleasantly. He could still taste the blood though.

He took a quick look in the mirror to check that everything was fine.

Nothing was fine, judging by his pale face and dark circles under his reddened eyes. He winced as the water dripped from his hair down the collar of his shirt, but Sanji didn't want to waste time drying it.

He wanted to quickly deal with Zoro and leave.

So he opened the door and walked out of the bathroom.

Zoro was glad that he was able to quickly finish with Franky because his thoughts kept returning to the cook and it irritated him. He hurried to the kitchen, hoping that, as always, after washing the dishes and cleaning, he would start making preparations for lunch. But when he opened the door and looked into the kitchen, there was no one there. He looked around the room and found that the dishes were still in the sink and everything remained the same as it was when they all left. It was unsettling, the cook never left his precious kitchen in such a state. Moreover, after standing here for a while, Zoro thought he caught a familiar smell.

The blood.

His gaze ran around and fell down to the floor. There, almost near the door, he saw several dark drops. He crouched down, touching them with his fingers and smearing them. Yes, definitely blood.

Fucking cook.

The Hell "nothing's wrong."

Zoro stood up and hurried to look for him. This time he will force him to confess even if he has to knock it out of the stupid stubborn cook. And he doesn't care how hypocritical it is.

And now, after about half an hour of sitting under the bathroom door, he finally came face to face with Curly. He couldn't do anything other than frown after looking him over. He didn't look good, not his usual self. Not that Zoro thought the cook usually looked good. Of course not.

“So, what do you want from me, mosshead?” His irritated and slightly hoarse voice snapped Zoro out of his thoughts. Without waiting for an answer, Sanji walked back towards the kitchen so Zoro followed, gritting his teeth and forcing himself to be calm. Now is not the time for a fight.

"I want you to talk. As a first mate, I need to know what's wrong with you." Zoro responded, quickening his pace, not allowing him to increase the distance.

"I already said, nothing's wrong" Sanji bit back again.

Yes, sure. Zoro won't back down this time.

"You're lying. You look like crap and I found blood on your damn kitchen floor!" The swordsman could not stand it and barked back. He saw Sanji open his mouth to object again, but Zoro had enough. He grabbed the other man by the shirt and slammed him back into the wall. His eye narrowed dangerously.

"Stop feeding me this crap. Hell.." He growled in his face, his nostrils flared and Sanji suddenly realized with creeping horror mixed with burning embarrassment that Zoro was sniffing like a devil hound. "You stink of blood even though you took a shower. Where is…"

Zoro didn't have time to finish asking where he was injured when Sanji pushed him away from himself, his eyes burning with anger, he looked flushed.

"Get away from me, you stupid fucking idiot!" Sanji almost screamed as he kicked the swordsman into the opposite wall and rushed forward towards the door.

"Oh fuck no, I said not this time!" Zoro growled in response, hurrying after him and again grabbing his shirt, which was already cracking, but the fabric was strong enough not to give in.

The hallway wasn't big enough for them to really fight, so it was more like a bar brawl now, but somehow they ended up on the deck and Sanji high-kicked Zoro with all his might. It didn't land, blocked by the back of Zoro's sword.

"I'm not in the mood to fight, stupid Marimo." Sanji hissed through his teeth, stepping aside. His breathing was ragged. His shirt is crooked with a loose button.

“Then don’t fight, just tell me what’s wrong with you.” Sanji opened his mouth again to answer this but Zoro stopped him. "No. Stop being a stubborn idiot. This is not the place. You are a cook, yes, but you are also a fighter in this crew. You fight on the front lines. You cannot behave so irresponsibly. If you're not at your best, you can become a liability…” Zoro saw the cook flinch at the last phrase. He felt a small voice inside him screaming that he had to stop here. That he shouldn't continue. But he pushed forward. “At best, someone will have to save you, and at worst, your weakness can kill someone. Do you really want that? Be the cause of someone's injury or death because you were too weak, unable to fight and not only protect others but even yourself?"

Zoro barely had time to finish when he had to defend himself from the stream of blows that rained down on him. It looks like he really struck a chord with him. He didn't know how deep though. And if he had known, he would have closed his mouth and never uttered those words.

If he had known how the fight would end this time, he would not have pulled out his sword.

As it was now, Zoro responded to each of Sanji's attacks with equal force. When he remembers their fight later, it was a blur. They kicked and slashed at each other like two wild beasts, screaming and snarling. He remembered how angry the stupid cook was with him, throwing attack after attack, so desperately as if trying to prove something.

At some point, Zoro even forgot what they were fighting about, too absorbed in defense and counter-attack. He shouldn't have though. He should have paid more attention to Curly. Otherwise, he would have noticed that his attacks had become subtly slower and less accurate. Otherwise, he would not have missed this dreadful moment when, during the next attack of the swordsman, the cook suddenly faltered.

With looming horror, Zoro watched as Sanji's legs seemed to become weaker and he lost his support. The cook will not block his attack, will not dodge, he realized. “I won’t make it in time” flashed through his head while he interrupted his own sword strike, trying to divert it to the side.

However, everything happened too quickly and no matter how hard Zoro tried, his blade bit into the side of the cook, cutting through the flesh with the same ease as through the fabric of the expensive shirt that he loved to wear so much and is now irrevocably damaged.

The next moment, Sanji slammed into him with a sudden dead weight, knocking them both onto Sunny's grassy surface. Zoro didn't dare move, feeling the other's blood soaking his shirt. He didn't dare breathe.

He felt that his hand, still gripping the handle of the Wado, began to shake, and he clenched his fingers tighter so as not to cause even more damage to the other. It was becoming slippery, he realized, from the blood running down the sword. The blood of his comrade. The blood of his cook. Their cook, he still corrected himself, with detachment.

Suddenly he remembered the promise made through den den mushi. He remembered that he was ready to fulfill it if necessary because he is a man of his word, but now... he realized, unbearably clearly, that he could never do it. He just wounded the stupid cook. Whether it's accidental or not ,doesn't matter. He shed his blood with the sword, with which he was supposed to protect his comrade as well as the rest of the crew.

He began to suffocate, Zoro realized. So he tried to take air. It was small and not enough.

He didn't care.

The trembling in his hand seemed to spread throughout his body and Zoro clenched his teeth. For some reason he now did not dare to touch the cook. They fought often and almost always ended with superficial cuts here and there and bruises, but not like this. Never like this. They would never fight each other without being sure that the other could handle it and be able to respond equally.

Zoro should have understood, should have realized that the stubborn idiot was out of shape to the point that he couldn’t fight fully. He should have...

He should have.

Zoro drew in a hoarse breath, only now realizing that he had been hearing the voices of the other strawhats somewhere nearby for some time. He couldn't make out the words though. And he didn't care what they said.

He felt hands reaching out to them, about to pull the cook by the shoulders and turn him over, away from Zoro. They didn't seem to understand what was going on.

He felt his sword move, cutting through the flesh above him even more, and in panic grabbed Sanji's shirt, almost growling at the one who tried to pull him away. “Don't...”

The hands stopped instantly and Zoro heard Nami gasp. She probably finally saw the blood underneath them and understood. She probably couldn’t even suspect at first that the sword cut through the other’s side and wasn’t just near him. It was too impossible. Not in this situation.

Not with Zoro holding the sword.

He heard Chopper howl in panic and that's what finally snapped him out of his stupor.

Zoro carefully grabbed Curly by the shoulders and moved with him, changing his position to a sitting one. He forced himself to unclench his fingers, which seemed completely frozen and did not want to let go of the hilt of the sword. His hand shook and he took a breath. It didn't help much.

"Chopper, calm down and get your medical room ready. He's not dying, it's not lethal. It's an accident."

It is an accident. He repeated in his mind, reminding himself that this was not his fault. He wanted to believe it.

He changed his grip on the cook's shoulders, using his other hand to grab him under his knees and lift him off the grass. It was the only way to carry him in this situation. He didn't want to pull out the sword here and risk him bleeding to death. It's better if Chopper does this in his office.

Also, their doctor will be able to examine this idiot and finally find out what’s wrong with him.

Yeah, Zoro, you achieved your goal... are you happy now?

He couldn't help the choked laugh that escaped his throat.

His nakama looked at him as if he had gone mad.

He didn't care.

He tightened his grip on the other man, feeling his breath too hot on his collarbone… his hair too soft. It smelled of smoke and blood.

He didn't like it.

He hurried to the medical bay.

TBC.

====================================

If you were able to read this chapter, thank you very much!

It's time to choose what happens next.

P.S. Read before choosing. The first three options if you want Sanji suffered a little more on the Sunny along with Zoro. The last three if you want the plot to develop faster. Also, the last three options will carry over to the next time if you don't choose them now, with the only amendment being that someone will know about Sanji's problem.

27 notes · View notes