#โ™ฅ๏ธ๐Ÿ’ž๐Ÿ’—โฃ๏ธ๐Ÿ’โค๏ธโ€๐Ÿ”ฅโ™ฅ๏ธ๐Ÿ’•
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yinyuedijun ยท 10 months ago
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COCO.....I WILL CRY ACTUALLY I WILL CRY OVER ALL UR COMMENTS ๐Ÿ˜ญ๐Ÿ˜ญ๐Ÿ˜ญ I LITERALLY CANNOT DESCRIBE HOW HAPPY THEY MADE ME AGLDJSKFJAJ thank you so so much for taking the time to type out all your reactions & thoughts, and saying such kind things !!! ๐Ÿฅบ๐Ÿฅบ๐Ÿฅบ
also I'm about to type an entire essay in response, for which I apologize LOL
SO FUNNILY, one of the things I was really worried abt with this fic is that it wasn't very concise because I kept wanting to ramble abt the other characters!! usually I too always forget about characters other than the love interest (LMAO) but I genuinely love all the wbk boys I couldn't help but want to talk about what they're up to in this au... so I'm super glad that you enjoyed all those lil details in the fic, and they didn't feel pointless !! ๐Ÿฅบ (k.u.w.b. made me giggle btw. imagining a reality tv show where umemiya is the kris jenner equivalent)
I genuinely giggled so much when I saw ur reaction to the marriage joke.... now I'm extremely excited for ur reaction if you read part 2 because it'll be coming up again :3ccc
ALSO COCO ITS LIKE WE ARE TELEPATHICALLY CONNECTED BC THATS THE EXACT PANEL I WAS THINKING ABT AS I WROTE THAT SCENE I was actually shocked when I saw those mangacaps in ur post LOL
laughing so so hard @ the colourblindness comments ๐Ÿ˜ญ๐Ÿ˜ญ๐Ÿ˜ญ my genuine mission with this fic was to get everyone situationally colourblind for this man and I'm glad it worked on you miss coco โ™ฅ๏ธโ™ฅ๏ธโ™ฅ๏ธ who can resist a man that looks at you as if you were a misbehaving kitten.... truly ๐Ÿ˜” (giggled at ur reaction to that line too btw hehehe)
and HELP your comments on the scene with sakura were so fun to read !! I really did want people to genuinely feel like suo is A Danger at this point so I'm super happy that you thought the scene was tense and actually anxiety provoking WAHAHA. also I'm so flattered you thought it felt like a film scene, though I apologize for the whiplash LMDAOFKJS. I've never seen uncut gems but now I feel like I have to watch it!!!!
I literally laughed OUT LOUD at your reaction to the scene where suo pulled u into his lap HAHFLSJS NOT YOUR STUFFED ANIMAL.... rip sorry abt the tragic casualty of this suo fic </3 but also I desperately need to know,
what would you want to say that would get you guillotined? ๐ŸŽค๐ŸŽค๐ŸŽค
but speaking more seriously LOL it means a lot to me that you like their relationship and suo's characterization! I'm sure you've seen me ramble abt this rip but writing him makes me nervous bc we have no info on him ๐Ÿ’” so I'm glad you enjoyed the backstory I hallucinated for him, as well as the yandere angle that I went with for him!!! also I must admit I screamed a lil when you said "perhaps what's best for her is to fuck her silly and hold her tenderly and kiss her like a lover...?" ALGKSFJJS you understand exactly where I'm going with his mindset โ™ฅ๏ธ but also I regret to inform you that the sex is actually insane, though I hope you will enjoy it anyway ๐Ÿ˜ญ๐Ÿ˜ญ๐Ÿ˜ญ ITS FINE HE'LL DO ALL THOSE THINGS OFFSCREEN LATER
I ALSO need to admit I got embarrassed when u called me out on loving suo ๐Ÿ˜” I really do love this guy, especially this stinky horrible man version of him I hallucinated HRGKSJS. I'm not used to writing super self-indulgent things so I was a lil embarrassed about posting this tbh!!!! so thank you for being so encouraging n supportive about that aspect of the fic !!
I SHALL FORCE MYSELF TO STOP YAPPING NOW and I'm sorry I wrote so much LOL. I just wish words could convey how much ur comment means to me!!! ๐Ÿฅบ๐Ÿฅบ๐Ÿฅบ you are so kind and thoughtful and I hope you know how much I appreciate u!!!
TOKYO VICE | part 1
You knew that if you agreed to move in with Suo, you'd be setting yourself up for a life without autonomy. You also knew that these alarming behaviours were all signs that he desperately needed therapy to process his masterโ€™s untimely death. Living with a man in constant grief, who refused to talk about his trauma unless he was making up a lie related to the nation of China, was probably not a good decision. Doubly so when this man was clearly paranoid about losing you, and triply so when he was a high-ranking member of a violent syndicate. Unfortunately for you, you rarely made good decisions. (Or: After joining the yakuza, Suo develops the concerning habit of controlling every facet of your life. This is somehow less worrying to you than your uncontrollable lust around him.)
8.7k words. suo x fem reader. deeply unserious yakuza au. yandere suo (not abusive and reader is into it), dark comedy, a little angst, smut. warnings: borderline sex work, off-screen criminal violence. nsft โ€“ no actual smut in this chapter, but there are still graphic discussions of sex. mdni. thank you to @sleepyqinfei for beta reading and to @/cafekitsune for the banner!
this is a sequel to sincerity and this sakura/reader wip (not required reading)!
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Youโ€™re not exactly sure why you and Suo have never fucked.
Itโ€™s certainly strange, given that you're pretty sure that Suo has expressed at least passing interest in you over the years, and you have felt a lot of interest in him. (By โ€˜interestโ€™, you mean that you feel an insatiable lust around him that you fight to ignore on a daily basis.) You can't exactly pinpoint why nothing has ever happened despite this mutual attraction, especially given your profession and indifferent feelings toward casual sex.
You can think of a number of probable reasons, which are separate from those you classify as stupid reasons. The latter class comprises silly concerns like a fear of rejection, fear of abandonment, fear of not being pretty enough, fear of not being good enough, et cetera. All very juvenile feelingsโ€”insecurities that you had in your teenage years, the days in which Suo ran around Makochi as a delinquent while you worked an honest job at a bar. (It was a girlsโ€™ bar in the red light district, but that's neither here nor there.) Your circumstances have since changed, and those anxieties have since faded. None of them have any material consequence for your current life, so you don't see any point in thinking about them.
The stupid reasons, then, definitely don't have anything to do with why you've never fucked Suo. But you can think of a few, more concrete reasons that may explain it. For one, Suo has been your friend since childhood and itโ€™s generally a bad idea to have sex with your long-time friends. He was also your roommate for a while and itโ€™s an even messier idea to have sex with your roommates. And now, in your adulthood, heโ€™s your landlord in addition to being your boss, which makes him the worst possible person you could have sex with. You could lose both your home and your livelihood if things go southโ€”both severe, material consequences that should theoretically keep your lust at bay.
Also, he's also a member of the yakuza.
Now, strictly speakingโ€”you're not really opposed to having sex with violent criminals. Itโ€™s definitely not a good idea, but you don't usually have good ideas anyway. But for the past several years, youโ€™ve been pissed at Suo for joining the yakuza in the first place, which actually does keep your blatant attraction to him in check. You simply dry up when you think too hard about all the feelings of betrayal.
When Suo was on the cusp of graduating from Furin and thinking about his future, youโ€™d grabbed him by the collar and made him promise not to join the yakuza. They constantly tried to recruit from Bofurin, and they especially wanted Sakura, Suo, and Sugishita. You were adamant about chasing them off from Suo and Sakura whenever they approachedโ€”you had no need to worry about Sugishita, as Umemiya had already said he shouldn't talk to them, so there was no chance he was going toโ€”and you begged Suo over and over not to join. Delinquency was fine, but a crime syndicate was something else altogether.
Suo seemed serious about it when he said he'd listen to you. He even applied to colleges, talked about maybe becoming a teacher and eventually supporting you so you could stop working in the mizu shobai industry. Back then, he often teased you by saying that you should marry him and be his housewife (or he could be your trophy husband, if you so wished). You thought he was joking, but with the way he always talked about his life after his degree, you wondered if he would seriously suggest it.
Of course, it was most likely just teasing, and you were fine with that. You were simply excited that he'd found a career that would make him happy. Nirei had also been accepted to university at that point, and even Sakura had an honest job lined up on Keisei Street. The future had looked bright for everyone.
Then Suoโ€™s master died, and he lost his fucking mind.
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The two of you buried Suoโ€™s master in a Chinese funeral. He had never had children of his own, having satisfied his paternal instincts by picking up strays, and he didn't have much in the way of family in Japan either, so you and Suo performed the shou ling yourselves. One person kept a constant vigil over his body while the other searched on Google for what arrangements should be made next. After all, while Suoโ€™s master had immersed his foremost disciple in his culture, he had never taught Suo any funerary customs. He hadn't thought there would be a need.
Suo didn't cry nearly as much as you, but he was probably in more pain. Your master had trained you a little bit when you were a kid, and he'd taken you in for a while after your parents kicked you out, so of course you were gutted. But he had practically raised Suo, so it was naturally worse for him. More shattering.
You often think about the first night you decided you'd sleep with him in the same futon because he was crying so much. He insisted he was fine, but he didn't complain when you got under the sheets with him and started thumbing away his tears. When you took off his eyepatch, you found, to your astonishment, that he was crying from his missing eye as well. Both of you thought the tear ducts had been destroyed in either the accident or the enucleation, but it appeared that not even that prior trauma could mask his grief over this one.
Nevertheless, by the time of the funeral procession, Suo had stopped crying.
โ€œMaster supported us and taught us to stand on our own two feet,โ€ he said as the joss paper burned. He took your hand in his and smiled. โ€œSo it'll be fine. Weโ€™ll be okay on our own. I'll make sure of it.โ€
At the time, you had found this very comforting. You didnโ€™t think too much of it, as you had a bad habit of relying on Suo for your emotional stability. His master had raised him to be an emotionally intelligent person, so it had been fine, even though you had a track record of reckless decisions. Heโ€™d still exercised endless patience with you. He never once got angry with you, nor did he ever force you to do what he felt was the right thing. Instead, he gently redirected your self-damaging behavioursโ€”not so different from the martial art that he practised.
He disapproved of the run-down and lonely conditions of your apartment, so he spent a great deal of time there and helped make it into a proper home. He didn't like how dangerous your job at the girlsโ€™ bar was, so he walked you to and from work every night until you never left without him. He worried when you started having sex with your customers, especially when you began having nervous breakdowns over it (you were, after all, still a teenager and really only interested in having romantic vanilla sex with Suo), so he staged an intervention with Nirei and Sakura. In this way, Suo convinced you that you were loved and protected and didn't need to do something you hated so much. They would get you out if you felt trapped. And you didn't feel trapped, per se, so you left on your ownโ€”but it was still only because of them. You promised them afterwards that you'd never do it again.
This was Suoโ€™s brand of kindness as a teenager. He always taught people, guided them away from harm rather than steering themโ€”a behaviour heโ€™d mimicked from your master. Your master, in general, had defined all of Suoโ€™s values and his way of living, which was honest and gentle and conscientious. It was one where he used his abilities to protect the weak and care for his friends. He even kept his spiteful and alarmingly violent tendencies under control, though sometimes he slipped when fighting genuine assholes. But he still tried. He tried because he strived to be as kind as his masterโ€”who represented everything that Suo wanted to be in his adult life.
Thus, the death of Suoโ€™s master meant the death of his principles. It changed the kind of man that Suo wanted to be. You don't want to say that he became a worse person, but he absolutely became a worse person.
He especially became a worse person with you.
As it turned out, Suoโ€™s idea of making sure that the two of you would be fine on your own was, well, not really fine. It wasnโ€™t that he became cruel to you, per se. It was more that whenever he saw a problem with your behaviour, his approaches to redirecting it becameโ€”put as nicely as possibleโ€”heavy-handed.
After your masterโ€™s death, you got a job at a high end, yakuza-owned club. Two weeks later, Suo broke his promise to you and joined the yakuza. So I can stay close to you, he explained gently, wiping away your tears as you cried hysterically, but you're convinced to this day that he did it partly out of spite. So a few years later, when you started having sex with your customers again and he tried to stop you, you decided to spite him back. I need to stay on top of the rankings, you'd explained dispassionately. The mamasan said it's fine, and the manager doesn't care. He even thinks it's good for business.
Suoโ€™s response was to simply become the owner of your club.
This move was very extreme, but also very effective. Any customer who so much as brushed against you on the premises was instantly thrown out, and the mamasan started watching you like a hawk to make sure you werenโ€™t going to any love hotels after work. Douhan were off-limits. For the first time since your teens, you became completely celibateโ€”not only because of your new workplace circumstances, but because you simply didn't want to find out what Suo would do if you got together with a man he despised (and he despised every man you dated).
His most absurd play was when he became concerned about your living conditions again. Your latest apartment was too plain, too small, and the area was too dangerous. It didn't even have a shower, and the other tenants behaved concerningly toward you when you went to the bathhouse at night. But the rent was cheap, and it was still an upgrade from your last place, so you shrugged it off when Suo suggested that you move. Even when someone tried to accost you at night, you were nonchalant about it. You kicked the shit out of them in a fight and continued your routine unbothered.
The next month, Suo bought a luxury penthouse and suggested you move in with him.
His offer (command) came with conditions. One of the bigger ones was that you'd let him accompany you out at night if you ever needed to run errands in dangerous places. Orโ€”nevermind, actually. He should really just accompany you everywhere at night. Maybe during the day too. Andโ€”ah, there was no way you'd be going to work alone, nor coming back by yourselfโ€”you were now always to be driven by someone in his organisation, if he wasn't available himself. Rent was a point of contention, when you asked about it: you wanted to pay at market rate, and he insisted that there was no need to pay at all. He ended up proposing a highly discounted price, which would give you ample financial freedom, but questionable financial independence.
These were insane terms. You knew that if you agreed, you'd be setting yourself up for a life without autonomy. You also knew that these behaviours were all signs that Suo desperately needed therapy to process his masterโ€™s untimely death. Living with a man in constant grief, who refused to talk about his trauma unless he was making up a lie related to the nation of China, was probably not a good idea. Doubly so when this man was clearly paranoid about losing you, and triply so when he was a high-ranking member of a violent syndicate. Case in pointโ€”he was likely connected to the brutal accident that later befell the man who tried to assault you.
โ€œI'm not sure what you're implying, but at least he didn't die,โ€ Suo said cheerfully when you confronted him about it. Which really meant: At least I decided not to kill him. This was a flag bigger and redder than any other you've ever known, and you consider yourself an expert in red flags. You knew you should run in the other direction.
So naturally, you put your arms around him, tenderly said, I'm sorry I've been worrying you, and then you moved in the next day.
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While Suo treats you with endless patience, you have personal limits to the patience that you exercise with him. Specifically, your patience with how he treats you.
You don't mind the lack of social freedom, nor the lack of personal freedom, nor the lack of freedom of movement. You also don't mind living with a man full of intractable trauma surrounding the death of every parental figure in his life; in fact, you'd rather be by his side than not, if he needs to cope with something so painful. And anyway, your friendship is otherwise unchanged if you ignore the heavy restrictions he's imposed on every facet of your life. So that's all fine.
But the celibate lifestyle that he's cornered you into? You simply aren't built for it. Holy shit, do you need to get laid.
Nearly two years without sex has brought you close to another nervous breakdown (there have been few better sources of entertainment or validation in your life), and worst of all, it has made your profound lust for Suo incredibly hard to ignore. Waking up every morning to him in a towel, his hair still wet from the shower and his broad silhouette exposed, tests the absolute limits of your self-control. The contours of his lean and muscled form are distracting enough; coupled with the vivid colours and lines of his irezumi, the sight of him becomes maddening. It is a horrible thing to be exposed to when you haven't gotten any dick nor strap in over a year. It gives you thoughts about him that are overtly sexual, which is bad, as you have materially consequential reasons for not wanting to fuck Suo.
Things with him must absolutely stay platonic. But with sexual frustration like yours, being platonic with him means that you need to get erotic with someone else. A boyfriend or girlfriend is out of the question; you don't want to be responsible for yet another brutal accident. So you instead decide to quit your job at his club and start working on Keisei Street. At least this way, you can start fucking your customers again.
Itโ€™s a perfect plan. Suoโ€™s oyabun is very indulgent toward him, and everyone else in the family respects him too. He consequently has a tight grip on his organisation and the territory they control, despite his relatively young age. Not a single person is ever to touch Keisei Streetโ€”largely because Sakura is part of Roppo-Ichiza, and Suo is nearly as weird about Sakura as he is about you. Plus, many of his other fellow Furin alumni are in the gang as well. If Suoโ€™s men ever started fucking with people on Keisei Street, it would not only have grave implications for gang relationsโ€”it would be personally upsetting for Suo. This means you can fuck all the Keisei Street customers you want, and not get a single one of them threatened or killed.
A pretty brilliant idea, if you do say so yourself.
Suoโ€™s expression doesn't change when you break the news to him. He delicately places his teacupโ€”custom-made from Yixing, just like the matching clay teapotโ€”down on the mahogany tabletop, and he looks at you with a calm smile.
โ€œCome again?โ€
โ€œI'm quitting my job at Red Dragon,โ€ you repeat. โ€œI already gave the mamasan my resignation.โ€
โ€œAnd she accepted it?โ€ Suo asks, in a tone that is so carefully nonchalant that you know it means he is actually furious with her. โ€œHow interesting,โ€ he muses. โ€œWhat brought this on?โ€
โ€œI've found a better paying opportunity on Keisei Street.โ€
โ€œI'll give you a raise,โ€ he says easily.
โ€œA raise?โ€ You cock a brow. โ€œThe pay is mostly commission-based at Red Dragon. You know that.โ€
โ€œThen it would be unwise to leave. You have a loyal customer base at Red Dragon. All very rich, andโ€โ€”his smile grows sharpโ€”โ€œvery polite.โ€
Polite. An interesting word. It actually means: None of them will ever proposition or harass you because they know they'll be maimed if they do. An easy thought to use to your advantage.
โ€œIt's loyal but it's small. Everyone who's anyone in this part of town thinks that weโ€™re married. Do you know how hard it is to pull new customers in when they're scared shitless of my yakuza husband? And anywayโ€โ€”you frown, trying to look as pathetic as possibleโ€”โ€œI'm lonely.โ€
Suo stares. He looks surprised, possibly because you absorb every minute of his free time with silly conversation, new restaurants, and skiing trips. (He likes snow, so you ask for these trips more for him to relax than anything else.) You also text him frequently on days he's working, and he very diligently replies, even if he's in the middle of something like a raid or a hit or brokering a massive deal. Suo still very strictly keeps to his rule of never touching his phone when in conversation with other peopleโ€”unless he needs to text you.
So his suspicion is fair. Suo is very attentive and doesn't allow you much opportunity for loneliness. In turn, youโ€™ve always been very happy spending time with him, even when it's only him.
โ€œLonely?โ€ he repeats. โ€œAre you, now?โ€
โ€œYes. You work so much,โ€ you complain, which is not a lie, โ€œand I don't have any friends to spend time with when you're gone.โ€
โ€œYou have friends from work.โ€
โ€œNo, I have competition at work. The hostesses are so cutthroat about rankings, they hate me. And each other.โ€
โ€œYou like Shuuhei and Hanzo,โ€ he points out, referring to his men who most frequently chauffeur you.
โ€œYeah, they're friendly, and they're very funny. I like them, but I can't be their friend.โ€ Suo stares at you, nonplussed, so you spell it out: โ€œThey're too scared of you to get close to me. What if it looks like they're trying to fuck the bossโ€™ wife?โ€
โ€œHmโ€ฆโ€ Suo studies you, looking thoughtful. Perhaps for the first time, he's contemplating the consequences of restricting your freedoms and marking you as his. That is to sayโ€”maybe he's finally realising that you have no friends and no life.
The beads of his earrings glimmer as he tilts his head at you and frowns. Suo almost looks innocent with that confused face of his. โ€œAnd how would working on Keisei Street help?โ€ he asks.
โ€œBecause all our old friends are there!โ€ you exclaim. โ€œSakuraโ€™s in Roppo-Ichiza now so heโ€™ll definitely be coming by all the clubs. Tsubaki too. And Nirei and Kiryu visit them quite oftenโ€”and even Tsugeura does sometimes, even though clubbing isn't one of his virtues.โ€ You grab onto his arm, pull yourself close, and give him your most disarming, pleading expression. โ€œPlease, Suo?โ€
โ€œHm.โ€ He strokes your cheek and looks at you fondly, in the way that one would do with an adorable and slightly annoying kitten. โ€œI donโ€™t think so. Itโ€™s not very safe there.โ€
He isn't wrong. Not only are you untouchable on his turf because of your association to him, Suo has also just crushed all the han-gure and petty criminals in his territory with brutal efficiency. His part of the red light district is, quite ironically, one of the safest places in the city, and certainly safer than Keisei Street.
But undeterred, you point out, โ€œShuuhei and Hanzo can still drive me there and back if you want. But I don't think it's necessary. Do you really think Sakura would let anything happen to me?โ€
This is the true brilliance of your plan: capitalising on the fact that Suo is as nearly as weird about Sakura as he is about you. He pauses as soon as you bring up the point, and you can practically see the gears turning. โ€œWell, if it's himโ€ฆโ€
โ€œI even texted him about it. Lookโ€”here!โ€ You whip out your phone, receipts ready. The corner of Suo's mouth lifts at your obviously rehearsed pitch. โ€œHe says he'd make sure I'm taken care of. And he says it'd be nice because he misses seeing us. Can you believe itโ€”Sakura actually admitted that he misses us! Typed it with his own two hands and pressed send! I bet he was super embarrassed about it.โ€
โ€œHuh. He even used a sticker. I've never seen him do that.โ€ Suo smiles as he reads through the chat. He looks like his old self. You suddenly feel a little wistful, and also a lot bad. This started as a ploy to get laid, but itโ€™s made you realise that you really do miss your friendsโ€”and Suo probably does too.
โ€œIf I worked on Keisei Street, then you would have plenty of reason to visit,โ€ you point out, feeling somewhat tender.
โ€œI guess that's true,โ€ Suo says. Your heart aches a little bit at the look he gives you. It's a platonic ache, of course. Or at the very least, it isn't an erotic one. It doesn't really make you want to have sex with him anyway. But if you could lean forward and press your lips to hisโ€”platonicallyโ€”then you definitely would.
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Suo's civilian friendships are complicated by his double life. Quite unusually for yakuza, Suoโ€™s syndicate insists on using pseudonyms and false histories to avoid anti-yakuza laws, on the off-chance that the police decide to do their jobs and actually enforce those laws someday. Lying for comedy is one of Suoโ€™s greatest passions, so he was happy to manufacture an absurd backstory: his name is Yanzhao, and he learned kung fu in a Shaolin Temple before moving to Hong Kong and working for the triads. He wears the eyepatch because he lost his eye in an altercation with the cops, which he won. By the way, you're his criminally beautiful wife who he met in Macau. The two of you had to leave for Japan since he killed a police officer and now he's wanted by the governments of both China and Hong Kong. Also, he's a very devoted husband, so if anyone lays a hand on you, heโ€™ll kill them too.
Somehow, everyone has bought into this story. Every criminal organisation in the red light district now fears a high-ranking yakuza known as Yanzhao, who is easily recognizable by his eyepatch and tassel earrings, and who is also homicidally obsessed with his beautiful wife.
In some ways, his infamy is convenient. No one wants to fuck with Suo, or with you by extension. But it also poses some issues: Suo has to keep a low profile in areas controlled by rival organisations, or else he might be ambushed. It also means he cannot easily go out and see his old friends. Even though he always masquerades as a civvie when he does, wearing stud earrings and a glass eye, it's still a little riskyโ€”especially since he likes to visit the strongest member of Roppo-Ichiza. While Roppo-Ichiza arenโ€™t yakuza, they're still han-gure, so some of its more criminally entangled members might recognize him anyway.
But Sakura himself, bless him, has not put two and two together and figured out that Suo Hayato and Gui Yanzhao are the same person. This is partly because Suo lies very convincingly about his fictional career in the tea industry, but you think it's also because Sakura is so gullible it's endearing.
I use the glass eye now because it's better for networking, Suo had explained before Sakura could interrogate him too much, his voice too smooth and too quick for the other man to get in a word edgewise. My business partners find the eyepatch too silly. The tassel earrings too. By the way, would you like some Baimudan tea? I thought of you when I smelled itโ€”I know you like fragrant thingsโ€”so I picked some up for you on my last visit to China. I was there for business a couple of weeks ago.
He, of course, neglected to mention that said business involved meeting with the 14K triad.
Despite the enormity of Suo's omission (lie), Sakura is none the wiser whenever he meets with you. He thinks you're just a regular hostess who has freedom of movement and various other human rights, and that Suoโ€™s just a regular guy who isnโ€™t homicidally obsessed with you (a detail of Suo's fabricated life story that is unfortunately grounded in reality). All this to say, Sakura doesn't think twice about mentioning the fact that you have a routine of going to love hotels after work.
Suo, as always, remains calm in the face of unsettling information. He sets down his tea (just tea, without shochu), and politely says, โ€œPardon?โ€ He's once again using the nonchalant kind of tone that suggests mortal danger.
โ€œShe's always going to love hotels after her shifts.โ€ Sakura is frowning at you, pink but scowling. โ€œI thought you said you were done with that stuff. You promised us you wouldn't do it anymore. Suoโ€”are you really okay with this?โ€
On the one hand, you find it exceptionally sweet that Sakura, after all this time, remembers your promise and wishes to hold you to it. He was so worried about you when you started having those nervous breakdowns as a teenager, and he probably still is. On the other hand, you're shitting bricks at the fact that Suo is now aware of your activities. Because sure, he likely won't fuck with Keisei Streetโ€”but you realise, as he stares at you, that you can't be certain of this. After all, your fake yakuza husband has very real homicidal urges.
โ€œUm,โ€ you say. โ€œIt's just business.โ€
โ€œBusiness,โ€ Suo repeats.
โ€œYou don't have to do that stuff to keep good business,โ€ Sakura grouses, unaware of Suoโ€™s carefully suppressed rage. โ€œYou're real popular already.โ€
โ€œAre you?โ€ Suo asks, looking right at you.
โ€œI meanโ€”I told you the pay would be better, right?โ€ you reply, voice oddly high and nervous, and this is when Sakura notices that something is wrong.
โ€œOh,โ€ Sakura says, looking between the two of you. โ€œSuo, you didn't know?โ€
โ€œI didn't,โ€ he says. โ€œActually, she told me specifically that she wasn't going to do that if she worked here.โ€ He turns to you, still smiling. โ€œThat's the only reason why I allowed this at all, remember?โ€
A chill travels down your spine. You did, in fact, commit to a perpetually sexless lifestyle in order to be granted some semblance of freedom: Of course I won't sleep with any customers, you'd said. You know I don't really like doing that anyway. I promise I'll behave! Iโ€™ll be out of the clubs and right back home. Sakura said heโ€™d make sure Iโ€™ll get to a cab safely after the bar closes and everything!
โ€œUm,โ€ you say again, but this time you have no follow-up.
โ€œWait,โ€ Sakura demands, โ€œwhat do you mean by โ€˜allowed herโ€™? What, do you need to give her permission to work now or something?โ€
Suo smiles disarmingly at Sakura. Without missing a beat, he says, โ€œGenerally no. But weโ€™re dating now, which complicates what sheโ€™s allowed to do with other men at her job.โ€
Sakura spits out his drink. You choke on your spit.
โ€œIโ€ฆ um?!โ€ Sakuraโ€™s staring at you, so you quickly recover. This is a mortifying lie, but it's better than Sakura finding out just how batshit Suo has become since his school days. โ€œI thought we were going to keep that a secret, dear?โ€
โ€œAh, you're right. Sorry, I got too excited.โ€ Suo gives you an endeared look before turning to Sakura. โ€œWe were going to keep it to ourselves unless we got serious about it. But we've been talking about marriage lately, so I thought it was fine to mention.โ€
โ€œ...โ€
Youโ€™re going to have an aneurysm. Why does every cover that Suo comes up with involve a marital relationship between the two of you?!
โ€œOhโ€ฆ holy shit.โ€ Sakuraโ€™s expression is complicatedโ€”somehow, more complicated than yours, even though youโ€™re the one getting cornered into a fake engagement. It's unbelievable how shy he still is about this kind of thing. Maybe itโ€™s just particularly embarrassing since he's known you two for so long, you reason. Regardless, he remembers his social cues enough to say, โ€œCongrats, guys. That's great. That's really great.โ€
Suo gazes fondly at you across the table. โ€œWe were thinking you could be our best man,โ€ he adds, and you consider violently kicking his leg.
โ€œO-oh. Uh, yeah! Sure! But what about Nirei?โ€
โ€œRather than having a maid of honour,โ€ you say reflexively, used to lying through your teeth for Suo, โ€œweโ€™d like him to be our best man as well.โ€
โ€œOh. That makes sense.โ€ Thrown off guard, Sakura completely forgets about the love hotel business. He whips out his phone. โ€œWhen were you thinking of having your wedding? I'll put it in my calendar.โ€
โ€œIโ€™m not sure.โ€ Suo turns to you. โ€œWhat were we thinking again, dear?โ€
You're going to die. You're going to die and it's a good thing because if you survive this embarrassment, your future will be bleak. As soon as Nirei finds out about this, heโ€™ll want to start helping you with wedding planning, and then it would just be too awkward to cancel things. Youโ€™ll have to enter a fake marriage with Suo, which will be completely sexless, because even with a vow of everlasting love, there are still too many concrete and materially consequential reasons for not sleeping with him.
Condemning yourself to a lifetime of sexual frustration, you reply, โ€œI think we were talking about a summer wedding.โ€
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The drive home is awkward.
Hanzo and Shuuhei pick the two of you up. Suo mentioned that he wanted to talk to you and you alone, so they bring the Rolls Royce with the privacy suite. The two of them are entirely cut off from you thanks to the soundproofing, which traps you with Suo, whoโ€™s drinking a bottle of oolong tea as the two of you sit in complete silence. You think he's waiting for you to squirmโ€”which you do.
You stay like that for five, agonising minutes before Suo finally says, โ€œSo you're sleeping with your customers.โ€
You swallow. โ€œYes.โ€
โ€œFor business?โ€
โ€œYes.โ€
โ€œHow much do you make?โ€
You blink. โ€œHuh?โ€
โ€œHow much do you get paid for a single night of work, including gifts that your customers give you in exchange for sleeping with them?โ€
You're halfway through citing your earnings when you realise where he's going with this.
โ€œSo you make less than you did at Red Dragon,โ€ Suo concludes, โ€œand you're very smart with your money, so I know you know that, and you probably went into this knowing that you'd end up at a net loss.โ€ He turns to you, gives you a look so sharp that it almost scares you. All made worse by his civilian disguise, which makes him feel unfamiliar. His glass eye shines strangely in the light, and his scar tissue is hidden by the makeup you helped apply. You wish he'd taken it all off before having this conversation.
โ€œSo,โ€ he says, โ€œwhatโ€™s the real reason you changed jobs?โ€
Already knowing that heโ€™ll figure you out sooner or later, you admit, โ€œI just wanted to start having sex again.โ€
Suo blinks. โ€œYouโ€ฆ what?โ€
โ€œI wanted to have sex with people,โ€ you repeat. โ€œI hadn't been touched for nearly two years, okay? I needed to get laid or else I'd go insane.โ€ You cross your arms and look away, suddenly feeling petulant. โ€œI'm sure you've noticed that our arrangement makes it impossible for me to see people.โ€
He doesn't answer, because of course he's noticed. Heโ€™d designed his house rules with precisely this intent. If he accompanies you everywhere you go, then you can't exactly go on dates, and you definitely can't meet people for sex. Not unless you feel like having Suo watch as some anonymous guy fucks you, and you don't. As hot as the idea is, itโ€™s definitely not platonic behaviour, and it would probably trigger the whole homicidal obsession thing.
โ€œDo you like it?โ€ Suo asks, startling you. You look at him, confused.
โ€œWhat?โ€
โ€œDo you enjoy having sex with your customers?โ€ he asks. His voice and gaze are even. Unrelenting. โ€œDoes it make you happy?โ€
You stare at him, a deer caught in headlights. You didn't expect Suo to actually care about whether you enjoyed it or not, and you didn't really expect to care yourself either. But truthfully, you hated it. You simply weren't feeling it with most of your customers and avoided intercourse with all but one. Then in that one case you let someone earnestly fuck you, it was a complete letdown. Possibly the worst sex you'd ever had. You spent the whole time watching the clock, wondering how long it would take, and it turned out that your hookup had remarkable stamina but absolutely no technique. To pass the time, and in an attempt to feel something, you tried to imagine it was someone else who was inside you. You cycled through a whole list of people, including all of your exes, a few of your past customers, every single member of BTS, and thenโ€”finally, inevitablyโ€”your long-time friend, roommate, and landlord.
To your complete horror, when you imagined that it was Suo who had you folded in half, his cock so deep inside you that you could feel it in your throat, you came so hard that you drenched the sheets.
You lay there afterward as your customer showered, alone in the bed. Normally you'd be getting dressed at that point, but you were too distracted. You kept thinking about what it would feel like to be held by Suo after having your guts rearranged by himโ€”embraced tenderly like you know he would do with you, kissing him platonically like you've always wanted to do with himโ€”and you realised that you didnโ€™t actually want to have sex with anyone else. Despite all your life experience, sexual experience, and job experienceโ€”in that moment, you felt like a lonely nineteen year old girl who wanted nothing more than to have romantic, vanilla sex with her best friend, but who was instead having impersonal, disappointing sex with various salarymen.
This was a feeling so disgusting that youโ€™ve decided to never tell anyone at any cost.
โ€œYeah, it's fine. I guess I like it.โ€ You pretend to study your nails. โ€œSometimes I cum, which is all I really want.โ€
Suo keeps staring at you. โ€œThatโ€™s it?โ€ he asks, voice measured and careful. You raise a brow, playing dumb.
โ€œWhat do you mean?โ€
โ€œThat's all you want? Just to get off?โ€
You gaze out the window, trying not to look at his lips.
โ€œYes, that's all.โ€
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No matter how batshit Suo gets, he always maintains a certain kindness and maturity in how he handles conflict with you. It's a lesson that he learned from his master, which has perhaps been distorted over time, but remains important to him nevertheless.
If you do something upsetting, Suo is never forceful about getting you to act differently. Sure, he has fucked up ways of either getting you to behave or making you understand the consequences of your actions, and perhaps he has his manipulative moments. It was probably not a good thing that he coaxed you into indefinite house arrest, for instance. But he never threatens you, and he never hits you, and he never disrespects you. In fact, more than anything, he makes it a point to never let you feel like you aren't loved.
So when Suo abandons you after that conversation in the Rolls Royce, you lose your fucking mind.
Suo doesnโ€™t come home in the days following that evening, without any note nor explanation. For the first time in years, he stops replying to your texts. Your immediate thought is that he's been gravely injured or perhaps even killed, which sends you into a panicked spiral. But every one of his men who's come by to check on you has implied otherwiseโ€”but I'm not allowed to tell you anything else, anesan, Iโ€™m sorry, they all say. And when you realise that Suo is actually fine and he's just playing a fucked up mind game with you, one that makes you feel distinctly unloved, you feel simultaneously heartbroken and apoplectic. The man is not allowed to corner you into de facto imprisonment and then just fucking leave. In fact, if he tries, you might imprison him.
You spend a few days sitting at home and crying over this, as well as torturing yourself by thinking about useless things (fear of rejection, fear of abandonment, et cetera). But eventually, you get tired of wallowing in self-inflicted misery, and you decide to just track your fake husband down. His men have been adamant about not letting you out of their sightโ€”presumably so you donโ€™t fuck any more of your customers, because Suo can be spiteful like thatโ€”so you have to be strategic about your plan to find him.
You decide to do it during work. You tap out in the middle of a shift, feigning illness, so nobody bats an eye when you put on the most shapeless hoodie you own and throw on a face mask. Your chauffeurs (handlers) don't notice as you sneak offโ€”and for the first time in years, you walk through the red light district all alone.
It feels strange not to be protected, and even stranger not to be surveilled. You marvel at the unfamiliar experience of complete freedom, and at the possibility of being able to run off and disappear if you so wished. But you don't, of course. Not only do you care too deeply for Suo to abandon him, you're also pretty sure he has your driverโ€™s licence and ID card locked up somewhere. At least you haven't been able to find them, and Suo was oddly evasive about it when you asked. (I haven't seen them, he'd said, but I don't think youโ€™d need either of those things immediately, anyway, do you? And you nodded in response, because it was true that you liked being his passenger princess too much to care about your licence.)
So rather than bolting for the subway, you head straight to your old workplace. The gleaming doors of Red Dragon welcome you as you cross its threshold, and you're greeted immediately by the scent of luxury colognes and expensive cigarsโ€”both evoking a strange nostalgia in you. Even the click of your heels against the marble floor feels familiar. You realise that you've missed the place despite its cutthroat culture and its ownerโ€™s authoritarian control over you, which you suppose isn't surprising. This club was more or less your home for years and, thanks to said owner, was the safest place you've ever worked.
And being that you feel you've returned to your very safe home, you don't expect it when you're abruptly stopped by the bouncer.
โ€œCan I help you?โ€ he asks, his arm in your way. You don't recognize him, but you see the edges of his irezumi peeking out from the rolled-up cuffs of his shirt.
โ€œYeah, actually,โ€ you say. โ€œI'm looking for Gui Yanzhao. Is he here right now?โ€
The bouncerโ€”or chinpira, you guessโ€”bristles.
โ€œYou're looking for who?โ€
โ€œYanzhao?โ€ you say impatiently. โ€œEyepatch, tassel earrings? Owner of the club? Probably your boss?โ€
The bouncer steps forward and reaches for something in his pocket, which makes you suddenly nervous, and also makes you realise that in a hoodie and a face mask, you ordinarily wouldn't be allowed in this club, let alone into the room of its yakuza owner. You're so used to VIP treatment here that you simply forgot.
You take a step back. โ€œUm. I think there's been a misunderstanding.โ€ You lower your face mask, which doesn't help as you've never met this man, and he must be new. Youโ€™ll need to complain to Suo about his onboarding process later, if you aren't killed before you can find him.
It turns out that this yakuza rookie has a knife in his pocket, which is not the worst thing he could have been carrying, but is also not the best. You're getting ready to run in the other direction when a more senior member of the gang comes by. He gives you a startled look, which then turns alarmed when he sees his younger brotherโ€™s knife.
โ€œAnesan!โ€ he yells hurriedly, and he snatches the chinpiraโ€™s knife straight from his hand. His lunge for the weapon turns into a hurried bow. He pulls his colleagueโ€”whose face has turned very white in a very short amount of timeโ€”into an even deeper one. They look on the verge of prostrating.
โ€œOh, Yamashita. Hi! Is this guy new?โ€
โ€œYes! My sincerest apologies for my younger brotherโ€™s idiocy, and his insolence in raising a weapon at you.โ€ There's a sheen of sweat on the back of his neck. โ€œIf you would like him to atone, then he would be more than happy toโ€”โ€
โ€œNo, that's fine. I'd really like him to keep all his fingers.โ€ If you have to see a rookie cut off his pinkie today, you think you might actually change your mind on running away. Fuck your documentsโ€”Suo can keep them. Surely life without proof of identity can't be that hard. โ€œBy the way,โ€ you say, trying to change the topic before Yamashita can suggest alternative acts of atonement, โ€œhave you seen my husband?โ€
Yamashita hesitates at your question, looks conflicted. You feel a little bad for him, and for every other gang member who needs to worry about accidentally offending Suo. You watch him sweat for a full ten seconds before he says, โ€œYou can follow me. But anesan, you might find it unpleasant upstairs. I can find someone to drive you home instead, if you'd like.โ€
You give him a funny look. This was your workplace for a very long timeโ€”you canโ€™t think of many things that would happen here that might seriously upset you. โ€œWhat, is he cheating on me?โ€ you guess.
โ€œWhat? No! Aniki would never!โ€ Yamashita seems genuinely shocked at the suggestion. โ€œHe's crazy about you!โ€
โ€œThen I'm sure heโ€™ll be happy to see me,โ€ you say, although given that he's ignored your texts for four days straight, you aren't so sure. Regardless, this seems to be good enough reasoning for Yamashita, and youโ€™re taken to the top floor of Red Dragon. You ponder the whole time, on the elevator ride up, just what exactly Suoโ€™s been up to that's made Yamashita this nervous about letting you see him.
Then the door opens, and youโ€™re given your answer in the form of several body bagsโ€”all cleanly zipped up and conscientiously laid out in front of the elevators in a single, neat row. A sight that is significantly worse than a rookie cutting off his pinkie finger.
โ€œOh,โ€ you say faintly. You try not to throw up. โ€œSo this is why he hasn't been home.โ€
โ€œExactly!โ€ Yamashita replies, beaming. โ€œSee, anesan, I told you. He'd never cheat on you!โ€
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Suo is in the lounge of the top floor, which has been cleared of both civilians and corpses for the night. He's sitting on one of the couches, leaning back with his one eye closed, as if asleep. The golden tassels of his earrings are draped over the expensive leather of his seat, intertwined with his dark hair. A cup of tea sits in front of him, steaming. Even this far away, you recognize it by the scent alone: jasmine, probably from Longjing. One of the most expensive blends he has, and that which he saves for days heโ€™s stressed, though he never admits it when he is.
The sight of him would almost look tranquil, except for all the blood on his knuckles and his cuffs.
Off to the side, two of his younger brothers are chatting away. One is pouring cups of some doubtlessly expensive liquor, and the other is smoking a cigar. There's karaage on the table too. You recognize all of this as part of a ritual that some of the guys like to do after a hit or a shootout, not dissimilar to getting ramen or McDonaldโ€™s after going to a club.
You catch a bit of their conversation as you approach. One of them holds up the liquor bottle (Isojiman sake, you now recognise from your girlsโ€™ bar days, one of the rarer bottles costing around nine million yen) and asks Suo if he wants to join. โ€œNo thanks,โ€ he says predictably, โ€œI'm on a diet.โ€ Then he turns and looks right at youโ€”startling you, because you had thought you were being fairly quietโ€”and gives you a smile so genuine that it reminds you of his Furin days. โ€œWould my beautiful wife like to drink for me, though?โ€
โ€œNo thanks,โ€ you reply, โ€œbut your beautiful wife would like to talk to you.โ€
The two guys clear out to give you some privacy. Youโ€™re left alone with Suo, feeling awkward after several days of resenting him for no reason. (Youโ€™d rather die than go to therapy, but the whole fear of abandonment thing is probably something you should start addressing.) You don't even know where you want to sit. Eventually, you settle for placing yourself next to him, which is a decision that Suo quickly overturns by pulling you into his lap.
A flutter erupts in your stomach as he settles you on top of him. This physiological reaction is absurd, as not even ten minutes ago, you were trying not to throw up at the line of corpses in front of the elevator. It should also scare you somewhat that Suoโ€™s handsโ€”delicately adjusting your bodyโ€”are still covered in blood. But truthfully, you can't help but be happy when he makes you feel so loved.
You take one of the napkins on the table and start wiping at his knuckles. Tenderly, in case they're bruised or skinned.
โ€œYou didn't call or come home,โ€ you start.
โ€œI thought it would be too dangerous.โ€
You frown, thinking of all the bodies outside. โ€œWas this a rival organisation?โ€
โ€œNo. They were ours.โ€ He sighs. โ€œA succession conflict. There are a few people who don't like how I'll run things if I take over.โ€
You nod. Suo is very old-fashioned in his ideals about the yakuza, which you think is an imprint of his masterโ€™s influence, and something that appeals to his current โ€˜fatherโ€™. He values chivalry. He likes protecting the weak. His filial devotion to his deceased master has now extended to every member of his yakuza family, especially his oyassan. Heโ€™s almost certainly the top candidate for taking over after the oyabun dies, but being that part of his old-fashioned principles excludes lucrative projects such as sex trafficking, you suppose itโ€™s natural that some people in his organisation would prefer him dead rather than in charge.
โ€œYouโ€™ve never ghosted me during violent conflicts before though,โ€ you say. โ€œI was worried that something happened to you. Or that you were upset with me.โ€
Suoโ€™s hand drops to your waist, pulling you a little closer.
โ€œThey knew where we live. They tried to get to you, you know.โ€ Your eyes widen in alarm, so he cups your face with a palm. His thumb glides along your cheek, and your response is almost Pavlovian: your heart rate immediately slows at the comfort of his touch. โ€œItโ€™s fine. They won't bother you ever again.โ€ The cheerful smile returns. โ€œAnd if anyone else ever does, I'll handle them too.โ€
Your heart swells. Enthusiastic pledges of murder are not a healthy sign of affection, but after so much lonelinessโ€”whether from the past several days, or the years before that, you aren't sureโ€”you can't find it in yourself to be disturbed. You feel and sound painfully fond when you reply, โ€œI know.โ€
Suoโ€™s expression dims a little then. โ€œI thought you'd like the space anyway.โ€
โ€œWhat?โ€ You give him a confused look. You have never once given him any indication that you want even an inch of space from him. You'd crawl into his ribcage if you could. โ€œWhy would you think that?โ€
โ€œI thought you felt suffocated. You left my club just so you could have sex with other people.โ€ You blink, lingering on his wording. Other people. He continues before you can ask about it, sighing, โ€œYou didn't even ask me who I'd give permission to touch you. You just went ahead and decided on your own.โ€
โ€œ...โ€
You try not to look disturbed. Suoโ€™s apparent wish to control your sexual decisions is news to you, and somehow more alarming than the murder pledge. And even worseโ€”you immediately clench in response to his words. The thought of Suo dictating who does and doesn't get to touch your cunt isโ€ฆ well, your mind is heading in a distinctly non-platonic direction.
Trying to ignore the heat in between your thighs (but at the same time encouraging it), you ask: โ€œWho would you have been, um, okay with touching me?โ€
โ€œSakura or Nirei,โ€ he says immediately. โ€œThough only Sakura would be interested.โ€
โ€œWhat.โ€ You gape at him, all arousal forgotten. โ€œBullshit. He would never.โ€
โ€œYes, he would.โ€ Suo tilts his head. โ€œHaven't you noticed?โ€
โ€œI don't think there's anything to notice? And alsoโ€”heโ€™s so shy, I don't think he'd ever agree even if he were interested!โ€ You give him a bewildered look. โ€œHe couldn't even look at us when we said we were getting married, he was so embarrassed!โ€
โ€œEmbarrassed?โ€ Suo stares at you, an amused glint in his eye. โ€œIs that what you thought was going on?โ€
โ€œWas there anything else?โ€
He studies you for a moment, clearly entertained but not explaining why. โ€œWellโ€”itโ€™s fine,โ€ he says. โ€œIt doesn't matter for now. Especially since he's helping us plan a wedding and all.โ€
You make a face. โ€œI still can't believe that's the cover you went for.โ€
โ€œAre you upset with it?โ€ he asks smoothly, and you huff and say yes, but from his sly look, you think he knows it's a lie.
Naturally, you deflect before he can further interrogate you. โ€œSo, given that you are now my fiancรฉ, am I no longer allowed to work on Keisei Street and see customers after my shifts?โ€
You donโ€™t expect it when Suo says, โ€œNo, you can.โ€
You stare. โ€œWhat?โ€
โ€œYou can keep seeing customers if you'd like. You said it makes you happy, so why would I stop you?โ€ Suoโ€™s brow furrows, his usual calm replaced with concern. โ€œDo you really think I do the things I do to make you miserable?โ€
Guilt gnaws at your heart. He looks so disappointed. โ€œNo,โ€ you tell him. โ€œI just thought it'd make you miserable that I was sleeping with people without your permission.โ€ It is partly why you hid it from him in the first place, after all. You don't like to see him sadโ€”youโ€™re still haunted by the deep grief he was in, after your master diedโ€”and also, his misery tends to bring bodily harm to other people these days.
Cognizant of both concerns, you ask, โ€œYouโ€™re really okay with me sleeping with my customers? I can stop, if you want.โ€
โ€œNo, itโ€™s fine. I still don't like it, but you can continue for now if you want.โ€
Suoโ€™s mouth curlsโ€”not in a gentle way, as has been his expression since seeing you walk in, but in a way that sets off your flight or fight response.
โ€œI'm sure weโ€™ll reach a mutual understanding soon enough.โ€
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END PART 1
thank you genuinely if you read all that because this is a deranged au and I still can't believe I wrote it sldfkjsldfkj. please do let me know if you enjoyed my yandere suo delusions. sorry there was no smut in this chapter. I promise there is a ton in the next one (probably too much... lol. it's a 10k chapter and literally half of those words are about orgasm denial sldfkjalskdjdf). it's completely written and I hope to edit and have it up by next week!
also here is glossary of terms and world building notes if you are interested!
tagging @kweenkatsuki-fics !! <3
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tw1nkee28 ยท 2 years ago
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Here's a couple magma doodles from a magma I did with some people!! Thank you all for taking the time out of your day to draw with me, I appreciate it<33 (and I'm not gonna tag the ppl who I drew their narrators because they've already seen and I don't want to bother them again- ;-;)
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great-tusk ยท 6 months ago
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Watching a (completely unrelated to bg3) YouTube video in the background while doing something else, and they mentioned Shadowheart, and the way that my head absolutely WHIPPED up.
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catboyrightsdefender ยท 2 years ago
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nature is healing (watching horrible histories clips with my sister on the big hotel room tv)
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icantrememberwhoiwaslastdecember ยท 6 months ago
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โ™ฅ๏ธ๐Ÿ’œโค๏ธ๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’—๐Ÿ’•๐Ÿ’โค๏ธ๐Ÿ’•โ™ฅ๏ธ๐Ÿ’™๐Ÿ’œ๐Ÿ’—๐Ÿ–ค๐Ÿ’›๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’ž๐Ÿ’šโฃ๏ธ๐Ÿ’“๐Ÿงก๐Ÿ’˜๐Ÿ’๐Ÿ’Œ๐Ÿ’Ÿ๐ŸคŽ๐Ÿค๐Ÿฉท๐Ÿซ€๐Ÿฉถ๐Ÿฉต๐Ÿซถโค๏ธโ€๐Ÿ”ฅ
aww i did get a message <3
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cloroxcasser0le ยท 10 months ago
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Iโ€™m so happy I made that side blog guys
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thatdemiboymess ยท 1 year ago
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Just watched the FNAF movie with my partner. ๐Ÿฅฐ๐Ÿ’•๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿฅบ
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pjackk ยท 1 year ago
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i can make pictures easily๐Ÿ˜€๐Ÿ˜ƒ๐Ÿ˜„๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿ˜†๐Ÿ˜…๐Ÿคฃ๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ™‚๐Ÿ™ƒ๐Ÿซ ๐Ÿ˜‰๐Ÿ˜Š๐Ÿ˜‡๐Ÿฅฐ๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿคฉ๐Ÿ˜˜๐Ÿ˜—โ˜บ๏ธ๐Ÿ˜š๐Ÿ˜™๐Ÿฅฒ๐Ÿ˜‹๐Ÿคฉ๐Ÿ˜˜๐Ÿ˜—โ˜บ๏ธ๐Ÿ˜š๐Ÿ˜™๐Ÿฅฒ๐Ÿ˜‹๐Ÿ˜›๐Ÿ˜œ๐Ÿคช๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿค‘๐Ÿค—๐Ÿคญ๐Ÿซข๐Ÿซฃ๐Ÿคซ๐Ÿค”๐Ÿซก๐Ÿค๐Ÿคจ๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿ˜‘๐Ÿ˜ถ๐Ÿซฅ๐Ÿ˜ถโ€๐ŸŒซ๏ธ๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿ˜’๐Ÿ™„๐Ÿ˜ฌ๐Ÿ˜ฎโ€๐Ÿ’จ๐Ÿคฅ๐Ÿซจ๐Ÿ™‚โ€โ†”๏ธ๐Ÿ™‚โ€โ†•๏ธ๐Ÿ˜Œ๐Ÿ˜”๐Ÿ˜ช๐Ÿคค๐Ÿ˜ด๐Ÿ˜ท๐Ÿค’๐Ÿค•๐Ÿคข๐Ÿคฎ๐Ÿคง๐Ÿฅต๐Ÿฅถ๐Ÿฅด๐Ÿ˜ต๐Ÿ˜ตโ€๐Ÿ’ซ๐Ÿคฏ๐Ÿค ๐Ÿฅณ๐Ÿฅธ๐Ÿ˜Ž๐Ÿค“๐Ÿง๐Ÿ˜•๐Ÿซค๐Ÿ˜Ÿ๐Ÿ™โ˜น๏ธ๐Ÿ˜ฎ๐Ÿ˜ฏ๐Ÿ˜ฒ๐Ÿ˜ณ๐Ÿฅบ๐Ÿฅน๐Ÿ˜ฆ๐Ÿ˜ง๐Ÿ˜จ๐Ÿ˜ฐ๐Ÿ˜ฅ๐Ÿ˜ข๐Ÿ˜ญ๐Ÿ˜ฑ๐Ÿ˜ฃ๐Ÿ˜ฃ๐Ÿ˜ž๐Ÿ˜“๐Ÿ˜ฉ๐Ÿ˜ซ๐Ÿฅฑ๐Ÿ˜ค๐Ÿ˜ก๐Ÿ˜ ๐Ÿคฌ๐Ÿ˜ˆ๐Ÿ‘ฟ๐Ÿ’€โ˜ ๏ธ๐Ÿ’ฉ๐Ÿคก๐Ÿ‘น๐Ÿ‘บ๐Ÿ‘ป๐Ÿ‘ฝ๐Ÿ‘พ๐Ÿค–๐Ÿ˜บ๐Ÿ˜ธ๐Ÿ˜น๐Ÿ˜ป๐Ÿ˜ผ๐Ÿ˜ฝ๐Ÿ™€๐Ÿ˜ฟ๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๐Ÿ™ˆ๐Ÿ™‰๐Ÿ™Š๐Ÿ’‹๐Ÿ’Œ๐Ÿ’˜๐Ÿ’๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’—๐Ÿ’“๐Ÿ’ž๐Ÿ’•๐Ÿ’Ÿโฃ๏ธ๐Ÿ’”โค๏ธโ€๐Ÿ”ฅโค๏ธโ€๐Ÿฉนโค๏ธ๐Ÿฉท๐Ÿงก๐Ÿ’›๐Ÿ’š๐Ÿ’™๐Ÿฉต๐Ÿ’œ๐ŸคŽ๐Ÿ–ค๐Ÿฉถ๐Ÿค๐Ÿ’ฏ๐Ÿ’ข๐Ÿ’ฅ๐Ÿ’ซ๐Ÿ’ฆ๐Ÿ’จ๐Ÿ•ณ๐Ÿ’ฃ๐Ÿ’ฌ๐Ÿ—จ๐Ÿ—ฏ๐Ÿ’ญ๐Ÿ’ค๐Ÿ‘‹๐Ÿคš๐Ÿ–โœ‹๏ธ๐Ÿ––๐Ÿซฑ๐Ÿซฒ๐Ÿซณ๐Ÿซด๐Ÿซท๐Ÿซธ๐Ÿ‘Œ๐ŸคŒ๐ŸคโœŒ๏ธ๐Ÿคž๐Ÿซฐ๐ŸคŸ๐Ÿค˜๐Ÿค™๐Ÿ‘ˆ๐Ÿ‘‰๐Ÿ‘†๐Ÿ–•๐Ÿ‘‡โ˜๏ธ๐Ÿซต๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ‘ŽโœŠ๏ธ๐Ÿ‘Š๐Ÿค›๐Ÿคœ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ™Œ๐Ÿซถ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿคฒ๐Ÿค๐Ÿ™โœ๏ธ๐Ÿ’…๐Ÿคณ๐Ÿ’ช๐Ÿฆพ๐Ÿฆฟ๐Ÿฆต๐Ÿฆถ๐Ÿ‘‚๐Ÿฆป๐Ÿ‘ƒ๐Ÿง ๐Ÿซ€๐Ÿซ๐Ÿฆท๐Ÿฆด๐Ÿ‘€๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ‘…๐Ÿ‘„๐Ÿซฆ๐Ÿ‘ถ๐Ÿง’๐Ÿ‘ฆ๐Ÿ‘ง๐Ÿง‘๐Ÿ‘ฑ๐Ÿ‘จ๐Ÿง”โ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿง”โ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿง”๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿฆฐ๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿฆฑ๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿฆณ๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿฆฒ๐Ÿ‘ฉ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿฆฐ๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿฆฐ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿฆฑ๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿฆฑ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿฆณ๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿฆณ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿฆฒ๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿฆฒ๐Ÿ‘ฑโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿ‘ฑโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿ‘ด๐Ÿ‘ต๐Ÿง“๐Ÿ™โ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿ™โ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿ™Žโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿ™Žโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿ™Ž๐Ÿ™…โ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿ™…โ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿ™…๐Ÿ™†โ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿ™†โ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿ™†๐Ÿ’โ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿ’โ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿ’๐Ÿ™‹โ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿ™‹โ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿ™‹๐Ÿงโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿงโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿง๐Ÿ™‡โ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿ™‡โ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿ™‡๐Ÿคฆโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿคฆโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿคฆ๐Ÿคทโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿคทโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿคท๐Ÿ‘จโ€โš•๏ธ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€โš•๏ธ๐Ÿง‘โ€โš•๏ธ๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐ŸŽ“๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐ŸŽ“๐Ÿง‘โ€๐ŸŽ“๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿซ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿซ๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿซ๐Ÿ‘จโ€โš–๏ธ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€โš–๏ธ๐Ÿง‘โ€โš–๏ธ๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐ŸŒพ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐ŸŒพ๐Ÿง‘โ€๐ŸŒพ๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿณ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿณ๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿณ๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿ”ง๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿ”ง๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿ”ง๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿญ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿญ๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿญ๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿ’ผ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿ’ผ๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿ’ผ๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿ”ฌ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿ”ฌ๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿ’ป๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿ’ป๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿ’ป๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐ŸŽค๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐ŸŽค๐Ÿง‘โ€๐ŸŽค๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐ŸŽจ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐ŸŽจ๐Ÿง‘โ€๐ŸŽจ๐Ÿ‘จโ€โœˆ๏ธ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€โœˆ๏ธ๐Ÿง‘โ€โœˆ๏ธ๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿš€๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿš€๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿš€๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿš’๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿš’๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿš’๐Ÿ‘ฎโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿ‘ฎโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿ‘ฎ๐Ÿ•ตโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿ•ตโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿ•ต๐Ÿ’‚โ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿ’‚โ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿ’‚๐Ÿฅท๐Ÿ‘ทโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿ‘ทโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿ‘ท๐Ÿซ…๐Ÿคด๐Ÿ‘ธ๐Ÿ‘ณโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿ‘ณโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿ‘ณ๐Ÿ‘ฒ๐Ÿง•๐Ÿคตโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿคตโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿคต๐Ÿ‘ฐโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿ‘ฐโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿ‘ฐ๐Ÿคฐ๐Ÿซƒ๐Ÿซ„๐Ÿคฑ๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿผ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿผ๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿผ๐Ÿ‘ผ๐ŸŽ…๐Ÿคถ๐Ÿง‘โ€๐ŸŽ„๐Ÿฆธโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿฆธโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿฆธ๐Ÿฆนโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿฆนโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿฆน๐Ÿง™โ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿง™โ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿง™๐Ÿงšโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿงšโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿงš๐Ÿง›โ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿง›โ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿง›๐Ÿงœโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿงœโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿงœ๐Ÿงโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿงโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿง๐Ÿงžโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿงžโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿงž๐ŸงŸโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐ŸงŸโ€โ™€๏ธ๐ŸงŸ๐ŸงŒ๐Ÿ’†โ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿ’†โ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿ’†๐Ÿ’‡โ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿ’‡โ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿ’‡๐Ÿšถโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿšถโ€โ™‚๏ธโ€โžก๏ธ๐Ÿšถโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿšถโ€โ™€๏ธโ€โžก๏ธ๐Ÿšถ๐Ÿšถโ€โžก๏ธ๐Ÿงโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿงโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿง๐ŸงŽโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐ŸงŽโ€โ™‚๏ธโ€โžก๏ธ๐ŸงŽโ€โ™€๏ธ๐ŸงŽโ€โ™€๏ธโ€โžก๏ธ๐ŸงŽ๐ŸงŽโ€โžก๏ธ๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿฆฏ๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿฆฏโ€โžก๏ธ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿฆฏ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿฆฏโ€โžก๏ธ๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿฆฏ๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿฆฏโ€โžก๏ธ๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿฆผ๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿฆผโ€โžก๏ธ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿฆผ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿฆผโ€โžก๏ธ๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿฆผ๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿฆผโ€โžก๏ธ๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿฆฝ๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿฆฝโ€โžก๏ธ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿฆฝ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿฆฝโ€โžก๏ธ๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿฆฝ๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿฆฝโ€โžก๏ธ๐Ÿƒโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿƒโ€โ™‚๏ธโ€โžก๏ธ๐Ÿƒโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿƒโ€โ™€๏ธโ€โžก๏ธ๐Ÿƒ๐Ÿƒโ€โžก๏ธ๐Ÿ•บ๐Ÿ’ƒ๐Ÿ•ด๐Ÿ‘ฏโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿ‘ฏโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿ‘ฏ๐Ÿง–โ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿง–โ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿง–๐Ÿง—โ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿง—โ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿง—๐Ÿคบ๐Ÿ‡โ›ท๏ธ๐Ÿ‚๐ŸŒโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐ŸŒโ€โ™€๏ธ๐ŸŒ๐Ÿ„โ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿ„โ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿ„๐Ÿšฃโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿšฃโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿšฃ๐ŸŠโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐ŸŠโ€โ™€๏ธ๐ŸŠโ›น๏ธโ€โ™‚๏ธโ›น๏ธโ€โ™€๏ธโ›น๏ธ๐Ÿ‹โ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿ‹โ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿ‹๐Ÿšดโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿšดโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿšด๐Ÿšตโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿšตโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿšต๐Ÿคธโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿคธโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿคธ๐Ÿคผโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿคผโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿคผ๐Ÿคฝโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿคฝโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿคฝ๐Ÿคพโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿคพโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿคพ๐Ÿคนโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿคนโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿคน๐Ÿง˜โ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿง˜โ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿง˜๐Ÿ›€๐Ÿ›Œ๐Ÿ‘ฌ๐Ÿ‘ซ๐Ÿ‘ญ๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿคโ€๐Ÿง‘๐Ÿ‘จโ€โค๏ธโ€๐Ÿ’‹โ€๐Ÿ‘จ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€โค๏ธโ€๐Ÿ’‹โ€๐Ÿ‘จ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€โค๏ธโ€๐Ÿ’‹โ€๐Ÿ‘ฉ๐Ÿ’๐Ÿ‘จโ€โค๏ธโ€๐Ÿ‘จ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€โค๏ธโ€๐Ÿ‘จ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€โค๏ธโ€๐Ÿ‘ฉ๐Ÿ’‘๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿ‘ฆ๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿ‘ง๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿ‘งโ€๐Ÿ‘ฆ๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿ‘ฆโ€๐Ÿ‘ฆ๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿ‘งโ€๐Ÿ‘ง๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿ‘ฆ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿ‘ฆ๐Ÿ—ฃ๐Ÿ‘ค๐Ÿ‘ฅ๏ธ๐Ÿซ‚๐Ÿ‘ฃ๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿง’๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿง’โ€๐Ÿง’๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿง’๐Ÿง‘โ€๐Ÿง’โ€๐Ÿง’๐Ÿต๐Ÿ’๐Ÿฆ๐Ÿฆง๐Ÿถ๐Ÿ•๐Ÿฆฎ๐Ÿ•โ€๐Ÿฆบ๐Ÿฉ๐Ÿบ๐ŸฆŠ๐Ÿฆ๐Ÿฑ๐Ÿˆ๐Ÿˆโ€โฌ›๐Ÿฆ๐Ÿฏ๐Ÿ…๐Ÿ†๐Ÿด๐ŸซŽ๐Ÿซ๐ŸŽ๐Ÿฆ„๐Ÿฆ“๐ŸฆŒ๐Ÿฆฌ๐Ÿฎ๐Ÿ‚๐Ÿƒ๐Ÿ„๐Ÿท๐Ÿ–๐Ÿ—๐Ÿฝ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ๐Ÿช๐Ÿซ๐Ÿฆ™๐Ÿฆ’๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿฆฃ๐Ÿฆ๐Ÿฆ›๐Ÿญ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ€๐Ÿน๐Ÿฐ๐Ÿ‡๐Ÿฟ๐Ÿฆซ๐Ÿฆ”๐Ÿฆ‡๐Ÿป๐Ÿจ๐Ÿปโ€โ„๏ธ๐Ÿผ๐Ÿฆฅ๐Ÿฆฆ๐Ÿฆจ๐Ÿฆ˜๐Ÿฆก๐Ÿพ๐Ÿฆƒ๐Ÿ”๐Ÿ“๐Ÿฃ๐Ÿค๐Ÿฅ๐Ÿฆ๐Ÿง๐Ÿ•Š๐Ÿฆ…๐Ÿฆ†๐Ÿฆข๐Ÿฆ‰๐Ÿฆค๐Ÿชถ๐Ÿฆฉ๐Ÿฆš๐Ÿฆœ๐Ÿชฝ๐Ÿฆโ€โฌ›๐Ÿชฟ๐Ÿฆโ€๐Ÿ”ฅ๐Ÿธ๐ŸŠ๐Ÿข๐ŸฆŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿฒ๐Ÿ‰๐Ÿฆ•๐Ÿฆ–๐Ÿณ๐Ÿ‹๐Ÿฌ๐Ÿฆญ๐ŸŸ๐Ÿ ๐Ÿก๐Ÿฆˆ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿฆ€๐Ÿฆž๐Ÿฆ๐Ÿฆ‘๐Ÿš๐Ÿชธ๐Ÿชผ๐ŸŒ๐Ÿฆ‹๐Ÿ›๐Ÿœ๐Ÿ๐Ÿชฒ๐Ÿž๐Ÿฆ—๐Ÿ•ท๐Ÿชณ๐Ÿ•ธ๐Ÿฆ‚๐ŸฆŸ๐Ÿชฐ๐Ÿชฑ๐Ÿฆ ๐Ÿ’๐ŸŒธ๐Ÿ’ฎ๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๐Ÿต๐ŸŒน๐Ÿฅ€๐ŸŒบ๐ŸŒป๐ŸŒผ๐ŸŒท๐Ÿชปโš˜๏ธ๐ŸŒฑ๐Ÿชด๐ŸŒฒ๐ŸŒณ๐ŸŒด๐ŸŒต๐ŸŒพ๐ŸŒฟโ˜˜๏ธ๐Ÿ€๐Ÿ๐Ÿ‚๐Ÿƒ๐Ÿชน๐Ÿชบ๐Ÿ‡๐Ÿˆ๐Ÿ‰๐ŸŠ๐Ÿ‹๐ŸŒ๐Ÿ๐Ÿฅญ๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ’๐Ÿ“๐Ÿซ๐Ÿฅ๐Ÿ…๐Ÿซ’๐Ÿฅฅ๐Ÿ‹โ€๐ŸŸฉ๐Ÿฅ‘๐Ÿ†๐Ÿฅ”๐Ÿฅ•๐ŸŒฝ๐ŸŒถ๐Ÿซ‘๐Ÿฅ’๐Ÿฅฌ๐Ÿฅฆ๐Ÿง„๐Ÿง…๐Ÿ„๐Ÿฅœ๐Ÿซ˜๐ŸŒฐ๐Ÿซš๐Ÿซ›๐Ÿ„โ€๐ŸŸซ๐Ÿž๐Ÿฅ๐Ÿฅ–๐Ÿซ“๐Ÿฅจ๐Ÿฅฏ๐Ÿฅž๐Ÿง‡๐Ÿง€๐Ÿ–๐Ÿ—๐Ÿฅฉ๐Ÿฅ“๐Ÿ”๐ŸŸ๐Ÿ•๐ŸŒญ๐Ÿฅช๐ŸŒฎ๐ŸŒฏ๐Ÿซ”๐Ÿฅ™๐Ÿง†๐Ÿฅš๐Ÿณ๐Ÿฅ˜๐Ÿฒ๐Ÿซ•๐Ÿฅฃ๐Ÿฅ—๐Ÿฟ๐Ÿงˆ๐Ÿง‚๐Ÿฅซ๐Ÿฑ๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿ™๐Ÿš๐Ÿ›๐Ÿœ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ ๐Ÿข๐Ÿฃ๐Ÿฆช๐Ÿค๐Ÿฅ๐Ÿฅฎ๐Ÿก๐ŸฅŸ๐Ÿฅ ๐Ÿฅก๐Ÿฆ๐Ÿง๐Ÿจ๐Ÿฉ๐Ÿช๐ŸŽ‚๐Ÿฐ๐Ÿง๐Ÿฅง๐Ÿซ๐Ÿฌ๐Ÿญ๐Ÿฎ๐Ÿฏ๐Ÿผ๐Ÿฅ›โ˜•๏ธ๐Ÿซ–๐Ÿต๐Ÿถ๐Ÿพ๐Ÿท๐Ÿธ๐Ÿน๐Ÿบ๐Ÿป๐Ÿฅ‚๐Ÿฅƒ๐Ÿซ—๐Ÿฅค๐Ÿง‹๐Ÿงƒ๐Ÿง‰๐ŸงŠ๐Ÿฅข๐Ÿฝ๐Ÿด๐Ÿฅ„๐Ÿ”ช๐Ÿซ™๐Ÿบ๐ŸŒ๐ŸŒŽ๐ŸŒ๐ŸŒ๐Ÿ—บ๐Ÿงญ๐Ÿ”โ›ฐ๏ธ๐ŸŒ‹๐Ÿ—ป๐Ÿ•๐Ÿ–๐Ÿœ๐Ÿ๐Ÿž๐ŸŸ๐Ÿ›๐Ÿ—๐Ÿงฑ๐Ÿชจ๐Ÿชต๐Ÿ›–๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿš๐Ÿ ๐Ÿก๐Ÿข๐Ÿฃ๐Ÿค๐Ÿฅ๐Ÿฆ๐Ÿจ๐Ÿฉ๐Ÿช๐Ÿซ๐Ÿฌ๐Ÿญ๐Ÿฏ๐Ÿฐ๐Ÿ’’๐Ÿ—ผ๐Ÿ—ฝโ›ช๏ธ๐Ÿ•Œ๐Ÿ›•๐Ÿ•โ›ฉ๏ธ๐Ÿ•‹โ›ฒ๏ธโ›บ๏ธ๐ŸŒ๐ŸŒƒ๐Ÿ™๐ŸŒ„๐ŸŒ…๐ŸŒ†๐ŸŒ‡๐ŸŒ‰โ™จ๏ธ๐ŸŽ ๐Ÿ›๐ŸŽก๐ŸŽข๐Ÿ’ˆ๐ŸŽช๐Ÿš‚๐Ÿš๐Ÿš„๐Ÿš…๐Ÿš†๐Ÿš‡๐Ÿšˆ๐Ÿš‰๐ŸšŠ๐Ÿš๐Ÿšž๐Ÿš‹๐ŸšŒ๐Ÿš๐ŸšŽ๐Ÿš๐Ÿš‘๐Ÿš’๐Ÿš“๐Ÿš”๐Ÿš•๐Ÿš–๐Ÿš—๐Ÿš˜๐Ÿš™๐Ÿ›ป๐Ÿšš๐Ÿš›๐Ÿšœ๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ›ต๐Ÿฆฝ๐Ÿฆผ๐Ÿ›บ๐Ÿšฒ๐Ÿ›ด๐Ÿ›น๐Ÿ›ผ๐Ÿš๐Ÿ›ฃ๐Ÿ›ค๐Ÿ›ขโ›ฝ๏ธ๐Ÿ›ž๐Ÿšจ๐Ÿšฅ๐Ÿšฆ๐Ÿ›‘๐Ÿšงโš“๏ธ๐Ÿ›Ÿโ›ต๏ธ๐Ÿ›ถ๐Ÿšค๐Ÿ›ณโ›ด๏ธ๐Ÿ›ฅ๐Ÿšขโœˆ๏ธ๐Ÿ›ฉ๐Ÿ›ซ๐Ÿ›ฌ๐Ÿช‚๐Ÿ’บ๐Ÿš๐ŸšŸ๐Ÿš ๐Ÿšก๐Ÿ›ฐ๐Ÿš€๐Ÿ›ธ๐Ÿ›Ž๐ŸงณโŒ›๏ธโณ๏ธโŒš๏ธโฐ๏ธโฑ๏ธโฒ๏ธ๐Ÿ•ฐ๐Ÿ•›๐Ÿ•ง๐Ÿ•๐Ÿ•œ๐Ÿ•‘๐Ÿ•๐Ÿ•’๐Ÿ•ž๐Ÿ•“๐Ÿ•Ÿ๐Ÿ•”๐Ÿ• ๐Ÿ••๐Ÿ•ก๐Ÿ•–๐Ÿ•ข๐Ÿ•—๐Ÿ•ฃ๐Ÿ•˜๐Ÿ•ค๐Ÿ•™๐Ÿ•ฅ๐Ÿ•š๐Ÿ•ฆ๐ŸŒ‘๐ŸŒ’๐ŸŒ“๐ŸŒ”๐ŸŒ•๐ŸŒ–๐ŸŒ—๐ŸŒ˜๐ŸŒ™๐ŸŒš๐ŸŒ›๐ŸŒœ๐ŸŒกโ˜€๏ธ๐ŸŒ๐ŸŒž๐Ÿชโญ๏ธ๐ŸŒŸ๐ŸŒ ๐ŸŒŒโ˜๏ธโ›…๏ธโ›ˆ๏ธ๐ŸŒค๐ŸŒฅ๐ŸŒฆ๐ŸŒง๐ŸŒจ๐ŸŒฉ๐ŸŒช๐ŸŒซ๐ŸŒฌ๐ŸŒ€๐ŸŒˆ๐ŸŒ‚โ˜‚๏ธโ˜”๏ธโ›ฑ๏ธโšก๏ธโ„๏ธโ˜ƒ๏ธโ›„๏ธโ˜„๏ธ๐Ÿ”ฅ๐Ÿ’ง๐ŸŒŠ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽ„๐ŸŽ†๐ŸŽ‡๐Ÿงจโœจ๏ธ๐ŸŽˆ๐ŸŽ‰๐ŸŽŠ๐ŸŽ‹๐ŸŽ๐ŸŽŽ๐ŸŽ๐ŸŽ๐ŸŽ‘๐Ÿงง๐ŸŽ€๐ŸŽ๐ŸŽ—๐ŸŽŸ๐ŸŽซ๐ŸŽ–๐Ÿ†๐Ÿ…๐Ÿฅ‡๐Ÿฅˆ๐Ÿฅ‰โšฝ๏ธโšพ๏ธ๐ŸฅŽ๐Ÿ€๐Ÿ๐Ÿˆ๐Ÿ‰๐ŸŽพ๐Ÿฅ๐ŸŽณ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ’๐Ÿฅ๐Ÿ“๐Ÿธ๐ŸฅŠ๐Ÿฅ‹๐Ÿฅ…โ›ณ๏ธโ›ธ๏ธ๐ŸŽฃ๐Ÿคฟ๐ŸŽฝ๐ŸŽฟ๐Ÿ›ท๐ŸฅŒ๐ŸŽฏ๐Ÿช€๐Ÿช๐ŸŽฑ๐Ÿ”ฎ๐Ÿช„๐Ÿงฟ๐Ÿชฌ๐ŸŽฎ๐Ÿ•น๐ŸŽฐ๐ŸŽฒ๐Ÿงฉ๐Ÿงธ๐Ÿช…๐Ÿชฉ๐Ÿช†โ™ ๏ธโ™ฅ๏ธโ™ฆ๏ธโ™ฃ๏ธโ™Ÿ๏ธ๐Ÿƒ๐Ÿ€„๐ŸŽด๐ŸŽญ๐Ÿ–ผ๐ŸŽจ๐Ÿงต๐Ÿชก๐Ÿงถ๐Ÿชข๐Ÿ‘“๐Ÿ•ถ๐Ÿฅฝ๐Ÿฅผ๐Ÿฆบ๐Ÿ‘”๐Ÿ‘•๐Ÿ‘–๐Ÿงฃ๐Ÿงค๐Ÿงฅ๐Ÿงฆ๐Ÿ‘—๐Ÿ‘˜๐Ÿฅป๐Ÿฉฑ๐Ÿฉฒ๐Ÿฉณ๐Ÿ‘™๐Ÿ‘š๐Ÿชญ๐Ÿ‘›๐Ÿ‘œ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ›๐ŸŽ’๐Ÿฉด๐Ÿ‘ž๐Ÿ‘Ÿ๐Ÿฅพ๐Ÿฅฟ๐Ÿ‘ ๐Ÿ‘ก๐Ÿฉฐ๐Ÿ‘ข๐Ÿชฎ๐Ÿ‘‘๐Ÿ‘’๐ŸŽฉ๐ŸŽ“๐Ÿงข๐Ÿช–โ›‘๏ธ๐Ÿ“ฟ๐Ÿ’„๐Ÿ’๐Ÿ’Ž๐Ÿ”‡๐Ÿ”ˆ๐Ÿ”‰๐Ÿ”Š๐Ÿ“ข๐Ÿ“ฃ๐Ÿ“ฏ๐Ÿ””๐Ÿ”•๐ŸŽผ๐ŸŽต๐ŸŽถ๐ŸŽ™๐ŸŽš๐ŸŽ›๐ŸŽค๐ŸŽง๐Ÿ“ป๐ŸŽท๐Ÿช—๐ŸŽธ๐ŸŽน๐ŸŽบ๐ŸŽป๐Ÿช•๐Ÿฅ๐Ÿช˜๐Ÿช‡๐Ÿชˆ๐Ÿ“ฑ๐Ÿ“ฒโ˜Ž๏ธ๐Ÿ“ž๐Ÿ“Ÿ๐Ÿ“ ๐Ÿ”‹๐Ÿชซ๐Ÿ”Œ๐Ÿ’ป๐Ÿ–ฅ๐Ÿ–จโŒจ๏ธ๐Ÿ–ฑ๐Ÿ–ฒ๐Ÿ’ฝ๐Ÿ’พ๐Ÿ’ฟ๐Ÿ“€๐Ÿงฎ๐ŸŽฅ๐ŸŽž๐Ÿ“ฝ๐ŸŽฌ๐Ÿ“บ๐Ÿ“ท๐Ÿ“ธ๐Ÿ“น๐Ÿ“ผ๐Ÿ”๐Ÿ”Ž๐Ÿ•ฏ๐Ÿ’ก๐Ÿ”ฆ๐Ÿฎ๐Ÿช”๐Ÿ“”๐Ÿ“•๐Ÿ“–๐Ÿ“—๐Ÿ“˜๐Ÿ“™๐Ÿ“š๐Ÿ““๐Ÿ“’๐Ÿ“ƒ๐Ÿ“œ๐Ÿ“„๐Ÿ“ฐ๐Ÿ—ž๐Ÿ“‘๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๐Ÿท๐Ÿ’ฐ๐Ÿช™๐Ÿ’ด๐Ÿ’ต๐Ÿ’ถ๐Ÿ’ท๐Ÿ’ธ๐Ÿ’ณ๐Ÿงพโœ‰๏ธ๐Ÿ“ง๐Ÿ“จ๐Ÿ“ฉ๐Ÿ“ค๐Ÿ“ฅ๐Ÿ“ฆ๐Ÿ“ซ๐Ÿ“ช๐Ÿ“ฌ๐Ÿ“ญ๐Ÿ“ฎ๐Ÿ—ณโœ๏ธโœ’๏ธ๐Ÿ–‹๐Ÿ–Š๐Ÿ–Œ๐Ÿ–๐Ÿ“๐Ÿ’ผ๐Ÿ“๐Ÿ“‚๐Ÿ—‚๐Ÿ“…๐Ÿ“†๐Ÿ—’๐Ÿ—“๐Ÿ“‡๐Ÿ“ˆ๐Ÿ“‰๐Ÿ“Š๐Ÿ“‹๐Ÿ“Œ๐Ÿ“๐Ÿ“Ž๐Ÿ–‡๐Ÿ“๐Ÿ“โœ‚๏ธ๐Ÿ—ƒ๐Ÿ—„๐Ÿ—‘๐Ÿ”’๐Ÿ”“๐Ÿ”๐Ÿ”๐Ÿ”‘๐Ÿ—๐Ÿ”จ๐Ÿช“โ›๏ธโš’๏ธ๐Ÿ› ๐Ÿ—กโš”๏ธ๐Ÿ”ซ๐Ÿชƒ๐Ÿน๐Ÿ›ก๐Ÿชš๐Ÿ”ง๐Ÿช›๐Ÿ”ฉโš™๏ธ๐Ÿ—œโš–๏ธ๐Ÿฆฏ๐Ÿ”—โ›“๏ธโ›“๏ธโ€๐Ÿ’ฅ๐Ÿช๐Ÿงฐ๐Ÿงฒ๐Ÿชœโš—๏ธ๐Ÿงช๐Ÿงซ๐Ÿงฌ๐Ÿ”ฌ๐Ÿ”ญ๐Ÿ“ก๐Ÿ’‰๐Ÿฉธ๐Ÿ’Š๐Ÿฉน๐Ÿฉผ๐Ÿฉบ๐Ÿฉป๐Ÿšช๐Ÿ›—๐Ÿชž๐ŸชŸ๐Ÿ›๐Ÿ›‹๐Ÿช‘๐Ÿšฝ๐Ÿช ๐Ÿšฟ๐Ÿ›๐Ÿชค๐Ÿช’๐Ÿงด๐Ÿงท๐Ÿงน๐Ÿงบ๐Ÿงป๐Ÿชฃ๐Ÿงผ๐Ÿซง๐Ÿชฅ๐Ÿงฝ๐Ÿงฏ๐Ÿ›’๐Ÿšฌโšฐ๏ธ๐Ÿชฆโšฑ๏ธ๐Ÿ—ฟ๐Ÿชง๐Ÿชช๐Ÿง๐Ÿšฎ๐Ÿšฐโ™ฟ๏ธ๐Ÿšน๐Ÿšบ๐Ÿšป๐Ÿšผ๐Ÿšพ๐Ÿ›‚๐Ÿ›ƒ๐Ÿ›„๐Ÿ›…โš ๏ธ๐Ÿšธโ›”๏ธ๐Ÿšซ๐Ÿšณ๐Ÿšญ๐Ÿšฏ๐Ÿšฑ๐Ÿšท๐Ÿ“ต๐Ÿ”žโ˜ข๏ธโ˜ฃ๏ธโฌ†๏ธโ†—๏ธโžก๏ธโ†˜๏ธโฌ‡๏ธโ†™๏ธโฌ…๏ธโ†–๏ธโ†•๏ธโ†”๏ธโ†ฉ๏ธโ†ช๏ธโคด๏ธโคต๏ธ๐Ÿ”ƒ๐Ÿ”„๐Ÿ”™๐Ÿ”š๐Ÿ”›๐Ÿ”œ๐Ÿ”๐Ÿ›โš›๏ธ๐Ÿ•‰โœก๏ธโ˜ธ๏ธโ˜ฏ๏ธโœ๏ธโ˜ฆ๏ธโ˜ช๏ธโ˜ฎ๏ธ๐Ÿ•Ž๐Ÿ”ฏ๐Ÿชฏโ™ˆ๏ธโ™‰๏ธโ™Š๏ธโ™‹๏ธโ™Œ๏ธโ™๏ธโ™Ž๏ธโ™๏ธโ™๏ธโ™‘๏ธโ™’๏ธโ™“๏ธโ›Ž๏ธ๐Ÿ”€๐Ÿ”๐Ÿ”‚โ–ถ๏ธโฉ๏ธโญ๏ธโฏ๏ธโ—€๏ธโช๏ธโฎ๏ธ๐Ÿ”ผโซ๏ธ๐Ÿ”ฝโฌ๏ธโธ๏ธโน๏ธโบ๏ธโ๏ธ๐ŸŽฆ๐Ÿ”…๐Ÿ”†๐Ÿ“ถ๐Ÿ›œ๐Ÿ“ณ๐Ÿ“ดโ™€๏ธโ™‚๏ธโšง๏ธโœ–๏ธโž•๏ธโž–๏ธโž—๏ธ๐ŸŸฐโ™พ๏ธโ€ผ๏ธโ‰๏ธโ“๏ธโ”๏ธโ•๏ธโ—๏ธใ€ฐ๏ธ๐Ÿ’ฑ๐Ÿ’ฒโš•๏ธโ™ป๏ธโšœ๏ธ๐Ÿ”ฑ๐Ÿ“›๐Ÿ”ฐโญ•๏ธโœ…๏ธโ˜‘๏ธโœ”๏ธโŒ๏ธโŽ๏ธโžฐ๏ธโžฟ๏ธใ€ฝ๏ธโœณ๏ธโœด๏ธโ‡๏ธยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธโ„ข๏ธ#๏ธโƒฃ*๏ธโƒฃ0๏ธโƒฃ1๏ธโƒฃ2๏ธโƒฃ3๏ธโƒฃ4๏ธโƒฃ5๏ธโƒฃ6๏ธโƒฃ7๏ธโƒฃ8๏ธโƒฃ9๏ธโƒฃ๐Ÿ”Ÿ๐Ÿ” ๐Ÿ”ก๐Ÿ”ข๐Ÿ”ฃ๐Ÿ”ค๐Ÿ…ฐ๏ธ๐Ÿ†Ž๏ธ๐Ÿ…ฑ๏ธ๐Ÿ†‘๏ธ๐Ÿ†’๏ธ๐Ÿ†“๏ธโ„น๏ธ๐Ÿ†”๏ธโ“‚๏ธ๐Ÿ†•๏ธ๐Ÿ†–๏ธ๐Ÿ…พ๏ธ๐Ÿ†—๏ธ๐Ÿ…ฟ๏ธ๐Ÿ†˜๏ธ๐Ÿ†™๏ธ๐Ÿ†š๏ธ๐Ÿˆ๏ธ๐Ÿˆ‚๏ธ๐Ÿˆท๏ธ๐Ÿˆถ๏ธ๐Ÿˆฏ๏ธ๐Ÿ‰๏ธ๐Ÿˆน๏ธ๐Ÿˆš๏ธ๐Ÿˆฒ๏ธ๐Ÿ‰‘๏ธ๐Ÿˆธ๏ธ๐Ÿˆด๏ธ๐Ÿˆณ๏ธใŠ—๏ธใŠ™๏ธ๐Ÿˆบ๏ธ๐Ÿˆต๏ธ๐Ÿ”ด๐ŸŸ ๐ŸŸก๐ŸŸข๐Ÿ”ต๐ŸŸฃ๐ŸŸคโšช๏ธโšซ๏ธ๐ŸŸฅ๐ŸŸง๐ŸŸจ๐ŸŸฉ๐ŸŸฆ๐ŸŸช๐ŸŸซโฌ›โฌœ๏ธโ—ผ๏ธโ—ป๏ธโ—พ๏ธโ—ฝ๏ธโ–ช๏ธโ–ซ๏ธ๐Ÿ”ถ๏ธ๐Ÿ”ท๏ธ๐Ÿ”ธ๏ธ๐Ÿ”น๏ธ๐Ÿ”บ๏ธ๐Ÿ”ป๐Ÿ’ ๐Ÿ”˜๐Ÿ”ฒ๐Ÿ”ณ๐Ÿ๐Ÿšฉ๐Ÿด๐Ÿณ๐Ÿณ๏ธโ€๐ŸŒˆ๐Ÿณ๏ธโ€โšง๏ธ๐Ÿดโ€โ˜ ๏ธ๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ฉ๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ช๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ซ๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ฎ๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ฑ๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ด๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ถ๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ท๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡บ๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ผ๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ฝ๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ฟ๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡ฉ๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡ช๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡ซ๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡ญ๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡ฎ๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡ฏ๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡ฑ๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡ณ๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡ด๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡ถ๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡ท๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡ป๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡ผ๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡พ๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡ฟ๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ฉ๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ซ๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ญ๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ฎ๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ฐ๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ฑ๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ณ๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ด๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ต๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ท๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡บ๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ป๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ผ๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ฝ๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡พ๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ฟ๐Ÿ‡ฉ๐Ÿ‡ช๐Ÿ‡ฉ๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ฉ๐Ÿ‡ฏ๐Ÿ‡ฉ๐Ÿ‡ฐ๐Ÿ‡ฉ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ฉ๐Ÿ‡ด๐Ÿ‡ฉ๐Ÿ‡ฟ๐Ÿ‡ช๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ช๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ช๐Ÿ‡ช๐Ÿ‡ช๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ช๐Ÿ‡ญ๐Ÿ‡ช๐Ÿ‡ท๐Ÿ‡ช๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ช๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ช๐Ÿ‡บ๐Ÿ‡ซ๐Ÿ‡ฎ๐Ÿ‡ซ๐Ÿ‡ฏ๐Ÿ‡ซ๐Ÿ‡ฐ๐Ÿ‡ซ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ซ๐Ÿ‡ด๐Ÿ‡ซ๐Ÿ‡ท๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ฉ๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ช๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ซ๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ญ๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ฎ๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ฑ๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ณ๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ต๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ถ๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ท๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡บ๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ผ๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡พ๐Ÿ‡ญ๐Ÿ‡ฐ๐Ÿ‡ญ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ญ๐Ÿ‡ณ๐Ÿ‡ญ๐Ÿ‡ท๐Ÿ‡ญ๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ญ๐Ÿ‡บ๐Ÿ‡ฎ๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ฎ๐Ÿ‡ฉ๐Ÿ‡ฎ๐Ÿ‡ช๐Ÿ‡ฎ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ฎ๐Ÿ‡ณ๐Ÿ‡ฎ๐Ÿ‡ด๐Ÿ‡ฎ๐Ÿ‡ถ๐Ÿ‡ฎ๐Ÿ‡ท๐Ÿ‡ฎ๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ฎ๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ฏ๐Ÿ‡ช๐Ÿ‡ฏ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ฏ๐Ÿ‡ด๐Ÿ‡ฏ๐Ÿ‡ต๐Ÿ‡ฐ๐Ÿ‡ช๐Ÿ‡ฐ๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ฐ๐Ÿ‡ญ๐Ÿ‡ฐ๐Ÿ‡ฎ๐Ÿ‡ฐ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ฐ๐Ÿ‡ณ๐Ÿ‡ฐ๐Ÿ‡ต๐Ÿ‡ฐ๐Ÿ‡ท๐Ÿ‡ฐ๐Ÿ‡ผ๐Ÿ‡ฐ๐Ÿ‡พ๐Ÿ‡ฐ๐Ÿ‡ฟ๐Ÿ‡ฑ๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ฑ๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡ฑ๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ฑ๐Ÿ‡ฎ๐Ÿ‡ฑ๐Ÿ‡ฐ๐Ÿ‡ฑ๐Ÿ‡ท๐Ÿ‡ฑ๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ฑ๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ฑ๐Ÿ‡บ๐Ÿ‡ฑ๐Ÿ‡ป๐Ÿ‡ฑ๐Ÿ‡พ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ฉ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ช๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ซ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ญ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ฐ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ฑ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ณ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ด๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ต๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ถ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ท๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡บ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ป๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ผ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ฝ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡พ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ฟ๐Ÿ‡ณ๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ณ๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ณ๐Ÿ‡ช๐Ÿ‡ณ๐Ÿ‡ซ๐Ÿ‡ณ๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ณ๐Ÿ‡ฎ๐Ÿ‡ณ๐Ÿ‡ฑ๐Ÿ‡ณ๐Ÿ‡ด๐Ÿ‡ณ๐Ÿ‡ต๐Ÿ‡ณ๐Ÿ‡ท๐Ÿ‡ณ๐Ÿ‡บ๐Ÿ‡ณ๐Ÿ‡ฟ๐Ÿ‡ด๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ต๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ต๐Ÿ‡ช๐Ÿ‡ต๐Ÿ‡ซ๐Ÿ‡ต๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ต๐Ÿ‡ญ๐Ÿ‡ต๐Ÿ‡ฐ๐Ÿ‡ต๐Ÿ‡ฑ๐Ÿ‡ต๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ต๐Ÿ‡ณ๐Ÿ‡ต๐Ÿ‡ท๐Ÿ‡ต๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ต๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ต๐Ÿ‡ผ๐Ÿ‡ต๐Ÿ‡พ๐Ÿ‡ถ๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ท๐Ÿ‡ช๐Ÿ‡ท๐Ÿ‡ด๐Ÿ‡ท๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ท๐Ÿ‡บ๐Ÿ‡ท๐Ÿ‡ผ๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ง๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ฉ๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ช๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ญ๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ฎ๐Ÿ‡ธ๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ฐ๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ฑ๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ณ๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ด๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ท๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ป๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ฝ๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡พ๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ฟ๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ฉ๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ซ๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ญ๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ฏ๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ฐ๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ฑ๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ณ๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ด๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ท๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ป๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ผ๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ฟ๐Ÿ‡บ๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡บ๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡บ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡บ๐Ÿ‡ณ๐Ÿ‡บ๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡บ๐Ÿ‡พ๐Ÿ‡บ๐Ÿ‡ฟ๐Ÿ‡ป๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ป๐Ÿ‡จ๐Ÿ‡ป๐Ÿ‡ช๐Ÿ‡ป๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ป๐Ÿ‡ฎ๐Ÿ‡ป๐Ÿ‡ณ๐Ÿ‡ป๐Ÿ‡บ๐Ÿ‡ผ๐Ÿ‡ซ๐Ÿ‡ผ๐Ÿ‡ธ๐Ÿ‡ฝ๐Ÿ‡ฐ๐Ÿ‡พ๐Ÿ‡ช๐Ÿ‡พ๐Ÿ‡น๐Ÿ‡ฟ๐Ÿ‡ฆ๐Ÿ‡ฟ๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ฟ๐Ÿ‡ผ๐Ÿด๓ ง๓ ข๓ ฅ๓ ฎ๓ ง๓ ฟ๐Ÿด๓ ง๓ ข๓ ณ๓ ฃ๓ ด๓ ฟ๐Ÿด๓ ง๓ ข๓ ท๓ ฌ๓ ณ๓ ฟ
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phoenixyfriend ยท 3 months ago
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By fave I mean "your go-to when sending messages."
I ran out of space for ๐Ÿ’Ÿ (decoration), ๐Ÿ’Œ (letter), and โ™ฅ๏ธ(specifically the heart suit in cards)
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badassdemonsword ยท 1 month ago
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Lovely ๐Ÿ’Œ๐Ÿ’˜๐Ÿ’๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’—๐Ÿ’ž๐Ÿ’“๐Ÿ’Ÿโฃ๏ธโค๏ธโ€๐Ÿ”ฅโค๏ธโ€๐Ÿฉนโค๏ธ๐Ÿฉท๐Ÿงก๐Ÿ’›๐Ÿ’š๐Ÿ’™๐Ÿฉต๐Ÿ’œ๐ŸคŽ๐Ÿ–ค๐Ÿฉถ๐Ÿค๐Ÿซฐโ™ฅ๏ธ๐Ÿ’•๐Ÿซถ
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blogitalianissimo ยท 4 months ago
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Non accetto critiche su mamma e papร 
CUORICINI CUORICINI CUORICINI ๐Ÿซถ๐Ÿป๐Ÿซถ๐Ÿป๐Ÿซถ๐Ÿปโค๏ธ๐Ÿงก๐Ÿ’›๐Ÿ’š๐Ÿ’™๐Ÿ’œ๐ŸคŽ๐Ÿ–ค๐Ÿค๐Ÿฉท๐Ÿฉต๐Ÿฉถโ™ฅ๏ธโฃ๏ธ๐Ÿ’•๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’—๐Ÿ’˜๐Ÿ’๐Ÿ’ž๐Ÿ’Ÿ๐Ÿ˜โค๏ธโ€๐Ÿ”ฅ๐Ÿซฐ๐Ÿป๐Ÿซฐ๐Ÿป๐Ÿซฐ๐Ÿป
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6mayhem ยท 25 days ago
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on my birthday nonetheless! and no class tomorrow we're fucked
deleted that whatever #whinybaby
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fleabagdiaz ยท 2 months ago
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buddie canon 2025. for REALLLL. ๐Ÿซถ๐Ÿ’•โ™ฅ๏ธโค๏ธ๐Ÿ’™๐Ÿ’”๐Ÿ’œ๐Ÿ˜ป๐Ÿฅฐ๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿ’—๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ–ค๐Ÿ’›๐Ÿ’ž๐Ÿ’šโฃ๏ธ๐Ÿ’“๐Ÿ˜ป๐Ÿงก๐Ÿ’˜๐Ÿ’๐Ÿ’Œ๐Ÿ’Ÿ๐ŸคŽ๐Ÿค๐Ÿฉท๐Ÿซ€๐Ÿฉถ๐Ÿซถ๐Ÿฉตโค๏ธโ€๐Ÿ”ฅ๐Ÿซฐโค๏ธโ€๐Ÿฉน๐Ÿ’’
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cultkinkcoven ยท 10 months ago
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I love speaking to other Aphrodite devotees because it always goes:
Aphrodite!!! ๐Ÿฅฐ
APHRODITE!!!! YEAAHHH!!!!! ๐Ÿคฉ๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿ˜ค
YEEEAHHH!!! APHRODITE!!!! YEEEAHHH!!!! ๐Ÿฅนโ˜บ๏ธ๐Ÿ’“โ€ผ๏ธโ€ผ๏ธโฃ๏ธ๐Ÿ’— ๐Ÿ’•๐Ÿ’•๐Ÿ’•๐Ÿ’•๐Ÿ’—โค๏ธ๐Ÿ’“
I LOVE THAT GODDESS!! I LOVE HER SO MUCH!!!! YOU ALSO LOVE THAT GODDESS?!! ๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’•๐Ÿ’—โค๏ธโค๏ธโ€๐Ÿ”ฅ
I DO I DO I DO!!!! I LOVE APHRODITE SO MUCH!!!! โค๏ธโค๏ธโค๏ธโ€๐Ÿ”ฅ๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ˜ฉ๐Ÿ˜ซ๐Ÿ’•
APHRODITE!!!!!! ๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿ’ž๐Ÿ’—โค๏ธโ€๐Ÿ”ฅ๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’•โค๏ธ๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’“๐Ÿ’—๐Ÿ’ž๐Ÿ’•โ™ฅ๏ธ
APHRODITE!!!!!!!!!!!! ๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’“โค๏ธโค๏ธโ€๐Ÿ”ฅ๐Ÿ’•๐Ÿ’ž๐Ÿ’๐Ÿ’•๐Ÿฅฐ ๐Ÿ˜ญ๐Ÿฅน๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ‘๐ŸคŒ๐ŸคŒโ€ผ๏ธโ€ผ๏ธ๐Ÿ’–โค๏ธ๐Ÿ’–โค๏ธโ€๐Ÿ”ฅ๐Ÿ’ž๐Ÿ’“
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108garys ยท 1 year ago
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I'll endeavour to do so as I reflect on how platonically smitten I am ๐Ÿฅฐ
Have you considered that you are beautiful and cool today?
Why thank you lovely friend, and have you considered that you are gorgeous and awesome? ๐Ÿ’—
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giotanner ยท 7 months ago
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Send to 10 other bloggers you think are wonderful. Keep this going to make someone smile! Add a heart so we know how long the chain's been going! โค๏ธ๐Ÿ–ค๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿค๐Ÿ’š๐Ÿ’›๐Ÿ’—๐Ÿ’™๐Ÿฉถ๐Ÿฉต๐Ÿค๐ŸคŽ๐Ÿ’Ÿ๐Ÿ’œโฃ๏ธโค๏ธโ€๐Ÿฉน๐Ÿ’๐Ÿซ€๐Ÿ’–โ™ฅ๏ธ๐Ÿ’˜โค๏ธโ€๐Ÿ”ฅ๐Ÿ’•๐Ÿฉถ๐Ÿ’œ๐Ÿ’›๐Ÿซถ๐Ÿ’•๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’“๐Ÿ’ž๐Ÿฉท๐Ÿ’š๐Ÿงก๐Ÿ’•๐Ÿ’™๐Ÿ’œ๐Ÿฉถโฃ๏ธโฆ๐Ÿ’‘๐Ÿฅฐ๐Ÿฉ๐Ÿ˜ปโฃ๏ธ๐Ÿซ€๐Ÿงกโ™ฅ๏ธ๏ธŽ๐Ÿงก๐Ÿ’š๐Ÿซถ๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ˜<333โค๏ธโ€๐Ÿ”ฅ
Staying on anon but hey from COD fandom we actually like you a lot you rock!!
!!! thank you so much, it's the first time i have a message here on tumblr from a COD fan, so i'm pretty excited hahah sooo... a little preview of my next drawing -video on tiktok
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