๐Œ๐ฎ๐ข๐œ๐ก๐ข๐ซ๐จ ๐“๐จ๐ค๐ข๐ญ๐จ...

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๐Ž๐ง๐ž๐ฌ๐ก๐จ๐ญ๐ฌ ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐Ÿ๐š๐ฏ๐จ๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ž ๐ก๐š๐ฌ๐ก๐ข๐ซ๐š ๐Œ๐ฎ๐ข! ๐Ÿฉต ๐ˆ ๐ก๐จ๐ฉ๐ž ๐ญ๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐ž๐ง๐ฃ๐จ๏ฟฝ... More

โœฆ๐…๐ข๐ซ๐ฌ๐ญ ๐ฆ๐ž๐ž๐ญโœฆ
โœฆ๐‡๐š๐ซ๐ฌ๐ก ๐†๐ซ๐ž๐ž๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐ˆ ๐ฅ๐จ๐ฏ๐ž ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐ฌ๐จโœฆ
โœฆ๐“๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐Ÿ๐ฎ๐ง๐ง๐ฒ ๐…๐ž๐ž๐ฅ๐ข๐ง๐ โœฆ
โœฆ๐”๐ง๐๐ž๐ซ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐‚๐ก๐ž๐ซ๐ซ๐ฒ ๐๐ฅ๐จ๐ฌ๐ฌ๐จ๐ฆโœฆ
โœฆ๐Ž๐ง๐ž ๐ƒ๐š๐ฒโœฆ
โœฆ๐…๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐Ÿ๐จ๐ซ ๐Œ๐ฎ๐ข๐œ๐ก๐ข๐ซ๐จ...๐‹๐ข๐ญ๐ž๐ซ๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฒโœฆ
โœฆ๐‚๐ก๐ข๐ฅ๐๐ก๐จ๐จ๐ ๐‚๐ซ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐กโœฆ แด˜แด› 1
โœฆ๐’๐ญ๐š๐ซ๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐Ž๐ฏ๐ž๐ซโœฆ แด˜แด› 2
โœฆ๐‚๐ฅ๐จ๐ฎ๐ ๐†๐š๐ณ๐ข๐ง๐ โœฆ
โœฆ๐๐š๐ฅ๐š๐œ๐ž ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐’๐ญ๐š๐ซ๐ฌโœฆ โƒษดsา“แดกโƒ
โœฆ๐“๐ก๐ซ๐ž๐ž ๐ฅ๐ข๐ญ๐ญ๐ฅ๐ž ๐ค๐ข๐ญ๐ญ๐ž๐ง๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐’๐ž๐œ๐ซ๐ž๐ญ ๐š๐๐ฆ๐ข๐ซ๐ž๐ซโœฆ โƒสœแด„โƒ
โœฆ๐…๐จ๐œ๐ฎ๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐„๐ง๐ญ๐จ๐ฆ๐จ๐ฉ๐ก๐จ๐›๐ข๐šโœฆ
โœฆ๐ˆ'๐ ๐›๐ž ๐ก๐จ๐ง๐จ๐ซ๐ž๐โœฆ โƒแด˜แด› 1โƒ
โœฆ๐‚๐จ๐ง๐ ๐ซ๐š๐ญ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐š๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง๐ฌ!โœฆ โƒแด˜แด›2โƒ
โœฆ๐€๐ฌ๐ญ๐ซ๐จ๐ง๐จ๐ฆ๐ฒโœฆ
โœฆ๐ˆ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ค๐ž๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐š๐ฅ๐จ๐ญ โœฆ
โœฆ๐…๐š๐ฆ๐ข๐ฅ๐ข๐š๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ฒโœฆ
โœฆ๐”๐ง๐๐ž๐ซ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ฆ๐š๐ฌ๐คโœฆ
โœฆ๐‚๐ฅ๐จ๐ฎ๐๐ž๐ ๐ฅ๐จ๐ฏ๐žโœฆ
โœฆ๐€ ๐ก๐ž๐ฅ๐ฉ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐ก๐š๐ง๐โœฆ
โœฆ๐Œ๐ข๐ฑ๐ž๐ ๐ฆ๐ž๐ฌ๐ฌ๐š๐ ๐ž๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐“๐ก๐ž ๐ฅ๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ ๐ข๐ง ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐๐š๐ซ๐คโœฆ
โœฆ๐…๐ž๐ฅ๐ข๐ง๐ž ๐Ÿ๐ซ๐ž๐ง๐ณ๐ฒโœฆ โƒแด˜แด› 1โƒ
โœฆ๐…๐ž๐ฅ๐ข๐ง๐ž ๐Ÿ๐ซ๐ž๐ง๐ณ๐ฒโœฆ โƒแด˜แด› 2โƒ
โœฆ๐€ ๐›๐ข๐ญ๐ญ๐ž๐ซ๐ฌ๐ฐ๐ž๐ž๐ญ ๐ฐ๐ž๐ฅ๐œ๐จ๐ฆ๐žโœฆ
โœฆ๐“๐š๐ค๐ž ๐š ๐ฆ๐จ๐ฆ๐ž๐ง๐ญโœฆ
โœฆ๐‚๐จ๐ฆ๐Ÿ๐จ๐ซ๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐ซ๐ž๐š๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ซ๐š๐ง๐œ๐žโœฆ
โœฆ๐€ ๐Ÿ๐ž๐ฌ๐ญ๐ข๐ฏ๐š๐ฅโœฆ
โœฆ๐…๐จ๐ซ๐ ๐จ๐ญ๐ญ๐ž๐ง ๐ค๐ข๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ž๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐€๐ง๐ ๐ž๐ฅโœฆ โƒษดsา“แดกโƒ
โœฆ๐๐š๐ฉ๐ž๐ซ ๐Ÿ๐ฅ๐จ๐ฐ๐ž๐ซ๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐๐ซ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ก๐ข๐ง๐  ๐ก๐ข๐ฌ ๐ก๐š๐ข๐ซโœฆ
โœฆ๐’๐ข๐œ๐ค๐ง๐ž๐ฌ๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐‘๐จ๐ฎ๐ ๐ก ๐ฉ๐š๐ญ๐œ๐ก ๐ข๐ง ๐ฅ๐ข๐Ÿ๐žโœฆ
โœฆ๐ƒ๐ข๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๐ž๐ซ๐ž๐ง๐ญ ๐ก๐š๐ข๐ซ๐ฌ๐ญ๐ฒ๐ฅ๐ž๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐‡๐ข๐ฌ ๐ญ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐จโœฆ
โœฆ๐‚๐ก๐ข๐ฅ๐๐ก๐จ๐จ๐ ๐Ÿ๐ซ๐ข๐ž๐ง๐โœฆ
โœฆ๐…๐ฅ๐จ๐ฐ๐ž๐ซ ๐œ๐ซ๐จ๐ฐ๐งโœฆ
โœฆ๐’๐š๐ฏ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎโœฆ
โœฆ๐‡๐จ๐ญ ๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ซ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ฌโœฆ โƒษดsา“แดกโƒ
โœฆ๐€ ๐ง๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ๐ฆ๐š๐ซ๐žโœฆ
โœฆ๐“๐ก๐ž ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฌ๐ญ ๐ก๐š๐ฌ๐ก๐ข๐ซ๐š'๐ฌ ๐ฐ๐ข๐Ÿ๐ž?!โœฆ
โœฆ๐Ž๐ซ๐ข๐ ๐š๐ฆ๐ข ๐œ๐ฅ๐ฎ๐›โœฆ
โœฆ๐’๐š๐ง๐ž๐ฆ๐ข'๐ฌ ๐ญ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐จโœฆโƒแด˜แด› 1โƒ
โœฆ๐’๐š๐ง๐ž๐ฆ๐ข'๐ฌ ๐ญ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐จโœฆโƒแด˜แด› 2โƒ
โœฆ๐€๐๐ฆ๐ข๐ซ๐š๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐งโœฆ
โœฆ๐‹๐จ๐ฏ๐ž๐ฌ ๐ฆ๐ž, ๐ฅ๐จ๐ฏ๐ž๐ฌ ๐ฆ๐ž ๐ง๐จ๐ญโœฆ
โœฆ๐…๐ž๐ž๐ฅ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐…๐š๐ข๐ง๐ญโœฆ
โœฆ๐๐ฎ๐ญ๐ญ๐ž๐ซ๐Ÿ๐ฅ๐ฒ ๐Œ๐š๐ง๐ฌ๐ข๐จ๐งโœฆ
โœฆ๐Œ๐š๐ค๐ข๐ง๐  ๐”๐ฉโœฆ
โœฆ๐–๐ข๐ฌ๐ญ๐ž๐ซ๐ข๐š ๐‡๐จ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐žโœฆโƒษดsา“แดกโƒ
โœฆ๐‰๐ž๐š๐ฅ๐จ๐ฎ๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐‚๐ฅ๐จ๐ฎ๐๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐–๐ก๐ฒ ๐ก๐ข๐ฆ?โœฆ โƒแด˜แด› 1โƒ
โœฆ๐–๐ก๐ฒ ๐ก๐ข๐ฆ?โœฆโƒแด˜แด› 2โƒ
โœฆ๐“๐ก๐ฎ๐ง๐๐ž๐ซ๐ฌ๐ญ๐จ๐ซ๐ฆโœฆ
โœฆ๐‘๐ข๐ฏ๐š๐ฅ๐ซ๐ฒโœฆ
โœฆ๐”๐ง๐ข๐Ÿ๐จ๐ซ๐ฆโœฆ
โœฆ๐“๐ž๐ซ๐ซ๐ข๐›๐ฅ๐ž ๐‹๐ข๐š๐ซโœฆ
โœฆ๐‡๐ข๐ฌ ๐‚๐ซ๐จ๐ฐโœฆ
โœฆ๐€๐Ÿ๐ญ๐ž๐ซ๐ฅ๐ข๐Ÿ๐žโœฆ
โœฆ๐†๐จ๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ข๐ฉโœฆ
โœฆ๐๐ซ๐š๐ข๐๐ข๐ง๐  ๐ก๐ข๐ฌ ๐‡๐š๐ข๐ซโœฆ
โœฆ๐–๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐š๐›๐จ๐ฎ๐ญ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎโœฆ
โœฆ๐ƒ๐ข๐ฌ๐จ๐›๐ž๐ฒโœฆ โƒษดsา“แดกโƒ
โœฆ๐ˆ๐ง๐ฃ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ž๐โœฆ
โœฆ๐‹๐จ๐จ๐ค๐ข๐ง๐  ๐š๐Ÿ๐ญ๐ž๐ซ ๐˜๐จ๐ฎโœฆ
โœฆ๐“๐ซ๐š๐ข๐ง๐ข๐ง๐ โœฆ
โœฆ๐“๐ซ๐ฒ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐’๐š๐ค๐žโœฆ
โœฆ๐‡๐ข๐ฌ ๐…๐š๐ฆ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฒโœฆ
โœฆ๐Œ๐ข๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ง๐๐ž๐ซ๐ฌ๐ญ๐จ๐จ๐โœฆ
โœฆ๐“๐š๐ค๐ข๐ง๐  ๐œ๐š๐ซ๐ž ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎโœฆ
โœฆ๐‚๐จ๐ฆ๐Ÿ๐จ๐ซ๐ญโœฆ
โœฆ๐๐ซ๐จ๐ญ๐ž๐œ๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎโœฆ
โœฆ๐๐ฅ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ก๐ข๐žโœฆ
โœฆ๐‡๐จ๐ฆ๐ž๐ฐ๐จ๐ซ๐ค ๐‡๐ž๐ฅ๐ฉโœฆ
โœฆ๐…๐ข๐ซ๐ฌ๐ญ ๐Š๐ข๐ฌ๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐‹๐ž๐ญ๐ญ๐ž๐ซโœฆ
โœฆ๐€๐œ๐œ๐ข๐๐ž๐ง๐ญ๐š๐ฅ ๐Œ๐ž๐ž๐ญ-๐ฎ๐ฉโœฆ
โœฆ๐„๐ง๐ž๐ฆ๐ข๐ž๐ฌ ๐ญ๐จ ๐‹๐จ๐ฏ๐ž๐ซ๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐‰๐ž๐š๐ฅ๐จ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ฒ, ๐‰๐ž๐š๐ฅ๐จ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ฒโœฆ
โœฆ๐‚๐ฎ๐๐๐ฅ๐ž๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐€๐ฌ๐ฅ๐ž๐ž๐ฉโœฆ
โœฆ๐๐ž๐ญโœฆ
โœฆ๐’๐ญ๐ฎ๐๐ฒโœฆ
โœฆ๐‚๐ก๐š๐ฉ๐ฌ๐ญ๐ข๐œ๐คโœฆ
โœฆ๐‚๐จ๐ฆ๐Ÿ๐จ๐ซ๐ญ๐ž๐ ๐–๐จ๐ซ๐ซ๐ข๐ž๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐…๐ฅ๐จ๐ฐ๐ž๐ซ๐Ÿ๐ฎ๐ฅ ๐“๐ก๐จ๐ฎ๐ ๐ก๐ญโœฆ
โœฆ๐“๐ž๐š๐ฌ๐žโœฆ
โœฆ๐’๐ข๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฒ ๐‘๐ž๐ฌ๐ž๐ฆ๐›๐ฅ๐š๐ง๐œ๐žโœฆ
โœฆ๐”๐ง๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐š๐ฅ ๐“๐ฎ๐ซ๐ง ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐„๐ฏ๐ž๐ง๐ญ๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐ˆ๐ง๐ฃ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ข๐ž๐ฌ ๐๐ž๐ ๐จ๐ง๐žโœฆ
โœฆ๐”๐ง๐๐ž๐ซ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐’๐š๐ค๐ฎ๐ซ๐š ๐“๐ซ๐ž๐ž๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐๐ž ๐œ๐š๐ซ๐ž๐Ÿ๐ฎ๐ฅ ๐ง๐ž๐ฑ๐ญ ๐ญ๐ข๐ฆ๐ž, ๐ˆ๐๐ข๐จ๐ญ..!โœฆ
โœฆ๐’๐ญ๐จ๐ฉ ๐…๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐€๐ฌ๐ฅ๐ž๐ž๐ฉ ๐๐ฅ๐ž๐š๐ฌ๐ž..โœฆ
โœฆ๐‚๐š๐ฎ๐ ๐ก๐ญโœฆ โƒษดsา“แดกโƒ
โœฆ๐€ ๐‹๐จ๐ฏ๐ž ๐‘๐ž๐ฎ๐ง๐ข๐ญ๐ž๐โœฆ
โœฆ๐๐จ๐›๐จ๐๐ฒ ๐„๐ฅ๐ฌ๐ž ๐ˆ'๐ ๐‘๐š๐ญ๐ก๐ž๐ซ ๐‡๐š๐ฏ๐žโœฆ
โœฆ๐€๐œ๐œ๐ข๐๐ž๐ง๐ญ๐š๐ฅ ๐‘๐ž๐ฏ๐ž๐ฅ๐š๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐งโœฆ
โœฆ๐†๐ž๐ญ-๐ญ๐จ๐ ๐ž๐ญ๐ก๐ž๐ซโœฆ
โœฆ๐†๐ฅ๐š๐ฌ๐ฌ ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐‚๐ก๐š๐ฆ๐ฉ๐š๐ ๐ง๐žโœฆ
โœฆ๐‚๐จ๐ง๐Ÿ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ž๐ ๐›๐ฒ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ƒ๐ฎ๐จโœฆ
โœฆ๐’๐ญ๐ฎ๐๐ฒ ๐’๐ž๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ข๐จ๐ง ๐จ๐ซ ๐’๐จ๐ฆ๐ž๐ญ๐ก๐ข๐ง๐  ๐„๐ฅ๐ฌ๐ž?โœฆ
โœฆ๐๐ข๐š๐ฌ๐ž๐ ๐“๐จ๐ฐ๐š๐ซ๐๐ฌ ๐‡๐ž๐ซโœฆ
โœฆ๐€ ๐†๐ž๐ง๐ญ๐ฅ๐ž ๐๐ž๐ซ๐ฌ๐จ๐งโœฆ
โœฆ๐€ ๐๐ข๐ญ ๐‚๐ฅ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ฒ ๐“๐จ๐๐š๐ฒโœฆ
โœฆ๐“๐ก๐ž ๐Ž๐ซ๐๐ž๐ซ ๐จ๐Ÿ..๐‡๐จ๐ญ ๐’๐ฉ๐ซ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ฌ..?โœฆโƒsสŸษชษขสœแด› ษดsา“แดกโƒ
โœฆ๐…๐ฅ๐จ๐ฐ๐ž๐ซ๐ฌโœฆ โƒแด˜แด› 1โƒ
โœฆ๐…๐ฅ๐จ๐ฐ๐ž๐ซ๐ฌโœฆ โƒแด˜แด› 2โƒ
โœฆ๐…๐ฅ๐จ๐ฐ๐ž๐ซ๐ฌโœฆ โƒแด˜แด› 3โƒ
โœฆ๐“๐ก๐ž๐ซ๐ž'๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐‚๐จ๐ฆ๐ž ๐š ๐“๐ข๐ฆ๐žโœฆ
โœฆ๐‡๐š๐ฉ๐ฉ๐ฒ ๐๐ž๐ฐ ๐˜๐ž๐š๐ซโœฆ โƒแด€/ษดโƒ
โœฆ๐€ ๐Š๐ข๐ฌ๐ฌ ๐ญ๐จ ๐’๐ญ๐ž๐š๐ฅโœฆ
โœฆ๐ƒ๐š๐ซ๐ฅ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐€๐ง๐ ๐ž๐ซ ๐ˆ๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ž๐ฌโœฆ โƒสœแด„โƒ
โœฆ๐“๐ก๐ž ๐Œ๐ž๐ง๐ญ๐จ๐ซโœฆ
โœฆ๐…๐ž๐ž๐ฅ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐‚๐ฎ๐๐๐ฅ๐ž๐ ๐”๐ฉโœฆ
โœฆ๐‘๐š๐ข๐ง๐ฒ ๐ƒ๐š๐ฒ๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐…๐ž๐ฌ๐ญ๐ข๐ฏ๐š๐ฅโœฆ
โœฆ๐Ž๐ฎ๐ญ ๐Ž๐ง ๐š ๐ƒ๐š๐ญ๐žโœฆ
โœฆ๐‚๐ฎ๐๐๐ฅ๐ž๐ฌ ๐š๐ง๐ ๐Š๐ข๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ž๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐‚๐จ๐ฅ๐ ๐’๐ก๐จ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐๐ž๐ซโœฆ โƒสœแด„โƒ
โœฆ๐†๐ซ๐จ๐ฐ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐๐š๐ข๐ง๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐๐ฆ๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐๐จ๐ฒ๐Ÿ๐ซ๐ข๐ž๐ง๐ ๐“๐ž๐ฑ๐ญ๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐„๐ฑ๐œ๐ž๐ฉ๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐งโœฆ
โœฆ๐’๐จ๐ฅ๐ข๐ญ๐ฎ๐๐žโœฆ
โœฆ๐Œ๐ข๐ญ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ข'๐ฌ ๐“๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐จโœฆ โƒสœแด„โƒ
โœฆ๐‚๐ฅ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ฒโœฆ
โœฆ๐…๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ž๐ง ๐ข๐ง ๐‹๐จ๐ฏ๐žโœฆ
โœฆ๐‡๐ข๐ฌ ๐’๐ฆ๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐„๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๐จ๐ซ๐ญ๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐ˆ ๐’๐ฐ๐ž๐š๐ซโœฆ โƒษดsา“แดกโƒ
โœฆ๐ƒ๐ž๐š๐ญ๐กโœฆ โƒสœแด„โƒ
โœฆ๐™๐จ๐ง๐ข๐ง๐  ๐จ๐ฎ๐ญโœฆ
โœฆ๐‚๐จ๐ง๐Ÿ๐ž๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ข๐จ๐ง๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐’๐จ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐š๐ญ๐ž๐ฌโœฆ โƒสœแด„โƒ
โœฆ๐Ž๐ฏ๐ž๐ซ๐ฐ๐จ๐ซ๐ค๐ž๐โœฆ
โœฆ๐„๐ฑ๐ก๐š๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ญ๐ž๐โœฆ
โœฆ๐’๐ฅ๐ž๐ž๐ฉ๐ฒ ๐‡๐ž๐š๐โœฆ โƒสœแด„โƒ
โœฆ๐‡๐ข๐ฌ ๐‹๐จ๐ฌ๐ญ ๐‹๐จ๐ฏ๐žโœฆ โƒแด˜แด› 1โƒ
โœฆ๐‡๐ข๐ฌ ๐‹๐จ๐ฌ๐ญ ๐‹๐จ๐ฏ๐žโœฆ โƒแด˜แด› 2โƒ
โœฆ๐‡๐ข๐ฌ ๐‹๐จ๐ฌ๐ญ ๐‹๐จ๐ฏ๐ž โœฆ โƒแด˜แด› 3โƒ
โœฆ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ ๐ƒ๐จ๐ง'๐ญ ๐‡๐š๐ฏ๐ž ๐ญ๐จ ๐‡๐ข๐๐žโœฆ
โœฆ๐‡๐š๐ฉ๐ฉ๐ฒ ๐๐ข๐ซ๐ญ๐ก๐๐š๐ฒโœฆ
โœฆ ๐•๐š๐ฅ๐ž๐ง๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐ž๐ฌ ๐ƒ๐š๐ฒ โœฆ
โœฆ๐๐š๐ฉ๐ž๐ซ ๐’๐ญ๐š๐ซ๐ฌโœฆ
โœฆ๐†๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ญ ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐–๐ข๐ง๐โœฆ
โœฆ๐“๐ก๐ž ๐„๐ง๐โœฆ ๐€/๐ง & ๐ฉ๐ข๐œ๐ญ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ž๐ฌ
โœฆ๐€/๐ง + ๐ฉ๐ข๐œ๐ญ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ž๐ฌโœฆ

โœฆ๐’๐ฎ๐ซ๐ฏ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ๐ซ๐ฌ ๐†๐ฎ๐ข๐ฅ๐ญโœฆ

817 10 1
By M1dnightM1st

🄲🅁🄴🄳🄸🅃🅂 🅃🄾: steller-constellations

𝗢𝗻𝗲𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝘁𝘆𝗽𝗲 『fluff』

✦ᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ᴍᴜɪᴄʜɪʀᴏ
✦ᴅᴇᴘʀᴇssᴇᴅ! ɢɴ! (ʏ/ɴ)
✦ғ/ᴄ = ғᴀᴠ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ

        I’m tired, I’m always tired. Despite that, I have many sleepless nights. I can’t sleep at night, never at night. There’s demons to kill; and I’m afraid of them.

        I’m afraid of what I work with on a daily basis; it hurts seeing the things that killed my family. They took away my happiness and I feel numb without them. Despite feeling like this, I feel that I want to help others, to help avoid the same thing that happened to me despite the exhaustion and pain it brings me. Even then, I want to help everyone but myself. I don’t quite deserve happiness. I shouldn’t even be alive right now. I should’ve died in that attack. 

        But he saved me. The Mist Hashira, Muichiro Tokito. He took me to the Butterfly Mansion and after I got healed by the nurses and he made sure I was alive. He didn’t have to, but he did. I asked many questions about him, his nichirin, his life. Many answers he did not remember, but the ones he did know, I paid extra attention listening to.

        When I found out he had terrible memory and forgot stuff a lot, I was shocked to find him at my healing room. If nobody reminded him of me, than he remembered someone as unimportant as me. It warmed my heart to see someone care for me, even if they were probably doing it out of pity. Despite that, after I finished healing and taking a test to make sure I was good to go, I couldn’t leave. 

        I didn’t know what I wanted to do in life until I met him. I know I wanted to save people, but I didn't know who I wanted to be. Now that I did, I realized I wanted to see him all the time. I confessed to him that I wanted to become his Tsugoku, to undergo excessively difficult training to become a Hashira. I didn’t want to become a Hashira nor did I care about it, I just wanted to become a stronger demon slayer and see him everyday. 

        When I told him that I wanted to be his Tsugoku, he was…confused. I had to explain to him what a Tsugoku was because he forgot, but once he understood, he thought about it then decided to accept. My first day of training began immediately after he accepted as he drew out his Nichirin and swung down at me. I ducked and drew mine out. 

        “Your nichirin is f/c?” he asked, almost out of thought yet dull. Despite him seeming out of it, I knew he was focused and in a battle-state mind.

        “Yes! It is my favorite color.” I responded. When you get your Nichirin (having another alias as the Color-Changing Katana), you unsheathe your weapon from its holster; it’ll change color based on the owner. 

        “Okay." He simply pushed it aside, ready to give another swing.

        That day I ended up with many bruises and scars. He didn’t have the energy or time to go easy on me at all. I couldn’t even land a single hit on him. He never went easy on me, because the enemy wouldn’t show me mercy.

        For months, it was me being brutally defeated. He was untouchable, unattainable, but I’m stubborn. I would reach for the stars if I really wanted to. And one day, I was able to graze his cheek with my Nichirin.

        “O-oh!” I stammered. “I’m sorry! Are you hurt?” I immediately questioned, throwing my Nichirin on the ground (only for him to get right back up and attack me).

        Yeah, that bruise still hurts even though it's long healed...

        I cared for Muichiro deeply, to the point where I started recognizing my feelings as love, an emotion I didn’t know I was capable of after my family’s death. Even though I was aware of my feelings, I kept them quiet from everyone. Muichiro couldn’t even remember my name, and he finally started remembering that I was his Tsugoku. 

        I remembered having to tell him months and months, everyday in the morning as he sat under that big tree, staring up at the clouds and mumbling an occasional “what shape was that cloud again?” or “did I say hi to the Master today?” 

        Once I finally nailed in that in the mornings to dusk I would train with him as his Tsugoku, he made sure I wouldn’t give up on training. There were times where I thought it was impossible, but when I would look into his beautiful, crystal clear, sky blue eyes, I would find a new found hope to push on. I wanted to make him proud of me. I wanted him to see as more than a Tsugoku. I didn’t just want to see him everyday—I wanted to see him every night as well, go to sleep next to him and wake up in his arms. 

        It hurt having these kinds of unattainable dreams. I expected too much. Muichiro didn’t seem capable of loving a person, let alone his Tsugoku. So I hid my feelings. I hid them very well. It wasn’t like Muichiro could figure out my feelings, he forgot his own emotions quite often, asking me to help him understand them.

        We could be in the middle of a battle and he’d tell me his heart raced incredibly fast when we got closer together. My heart would burst into flames when he tells me that. I would think that for a second—only a second—that only I had that effect on him (that same effect he has on me), but I would brush it off and tell him that it was from sparring so much, that moving around and summoning energy like this can weakened people and make the heart work overtime. 

        He would suggest breaks and right when he did, I would collapse on my knees and look up at the clouds panting heavily. He would lean over me, his hair almost reaching over my face as I gaze upon him and smile. He would return the smile softly and his eyes would warm up. It was always a sight to see and I could never get enough of it. I was the person to make him smile, something so out of his character, that I couldn't even breathe when I first saw him smile at me like that.

        ”Hi.” I would giggle softly.

        “Hello.” He’d respond with before laying down on the grass next to me. 

        Only recently he started to softly place his hand on mine when we stared up at the dusky clouds. The first time he did that my face exploded red, to which Muichiro noticed and asked if I needed water. I would shake my head, afraid that my voice would betray me, and I would wrap my pinkie with his, in a silent attempt to convince him to stay. It would work every time and I would smile to myself in accomplishment. 

        “There’s a dragon.” I would point up into the sky.

        “Yeah…” he would softly say, almost whispering before asking, “What’s a dragon again?” 

        I would giggle and look at him with a soft expression on my face.

        I loved his cluelessness; it made me want to protect him. I loved his questions, how he would turn to me out of everyone for answers. It made me feel that he relied on me as I did to him, that I was his rock, his safe haven as he was to me. I loved answering his questions, how his eyes would light up slightly before he would close them and respond with “interesting…”.

        It made my heart explode every time he would bless me with his voice. His soft, firm, authoritative voice whenever he would grace me with a word or sentence. I didn’t care if it was a simple “hello” to a “your stance needs work”. 

        When I learned about Total Concentration by Tanjirou (a fellow demon slayer I was really good friends with since I saw him at the Butterfly Mansion often tending to our injuries. His injuries originated from fighting demons while I would battle the unmerciful Muichiro. He’s currently the only person who knows of my crush, his sense of smell ratting me out).

        I asked Muichiro when he was gonna teach me about it and he avoided my gaze. He laid down on the grass, his long black hair with teal ends framing his face perfectly, like an angel. He looked at me and closed his eyes.

        “I didn’t want you to leave.” He responded.

        I sat down next to him, silently encouraging him to carry on.

        ”If you left me, my chest would feel like snow.”

        I fell my heart ache at his choice of wording. He would be sad and empty... all because of me?

        “If I taught you that, your training would improve greatly. Even then, you’ve surpassed my expectations and improved in combat. You would leave me once you find no use of me.” He confessed.

        My heart felt even worse—did I unintentionally make him feel that way?

        I leaned down and carefully wrapped my arms around his body. “I won't leave you; it'd hurt me too.” I admitted as I carefully rested my head on his chest.

        "I don't understand." He stated. "If you left, I wouldn't bleed, so I wouldn't be hurt?" Muichiro spoke.

        "Sometimes, you don't need an injury for a scar to form." I hummed. “You know, I could’ve left you once I finished healing at the Butterfly Mansion years ago.”

        Right…it’s been two years already and I’m still under his guidance—and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

        ”But I didn’t want to leave you. After my family died, maybe even before that, I felt that I was empty, trying to find the will to live. But you helped me out of that dark space and suddenly, I started to see things and feel things I thought I forgot.” I admitted, feeling tears well up in my eyes. 

                Don’t cry, don’t cry.

        ”Like me?” He asked. Then the dam I tried to push back overfilled.

        “Mm-hm. Like you…” I silently cried, doing my best to make sure he didn’t see or hear my tears. “Yeah... I don’t want to leave you at all. I want to see you everyday and every night. I want to be there for you. I want to be someone you can rely on. I want to be someone you can always trust.”

        “What would you call that?” he questioned.

        “Many names: family, friend, lover—“

        “I want that.” He spoke, cutting me off.

        “Lover?” I questioned.

        “Tanjirou told me about how we loved each other; he could smell the scent on us. He told me about what lovers feel and what they do. I liked his idea, but I want yours more.”

        I felt more tears roll down my face, it wasn’t from sadness, no, it was happiness. 

        He lifted my head and wiped the tears from my eyes.

        “You're crying? Did I hurt you too bad while training? Was it something I said?" he questioned

        "No, no. It's not that." I chuckled.

        "Oh. How can I help make you happy?" he questioned, his eyebrows furrowing down in confusion.

        I smiled, grabbing his hand and softly holding it. “I am happy. You make me happy everyday. You’re everything I want and more.” He smiled softly at me as he slowly started to comb his fingers through my hair. “Yes, I want you to be the person to make me happy, and I want to be the person to make you happy.”

        “You have, ever since I met you, (Y/N).” Muichiro confessed.

        That was the first time he remembered my name...

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