#GOJOS WOULD DEF HAVE MAJOR ANGST

[fleshbride]

what started it all. i could actually make fics based off of all of these 🤦🏾😭!!

[soleilnomoon]

OKAY, one more!!! And I'll stop harassing you (for a lil bit) how about Reader scores a spot in a major competition TV show that makes the participants do extreme/weird challenges (think Squid Game but maybe less deadly, or it can be deadly that's up to you). On your first day of the competition Y/N has been partnered with a handsome and over-confident (Gojo!) stranger you instantly despise. Enemies to lovers trope. They have to work together to win or will they just sabotage each other? \o/

hi babylove🥰️🥰️🥰️, you're always so patient for me, i could marry u, yk that??? anyway, i had way too much fun writing this, and if i didn't stop, we'd have a 10k fic on our hands (not that i'm complaining bc you of all ppl know i would write that for u if u ask it of me), but gojo is a menace and relatively tame!!! sort of!!! this def is leaning more towards the squid game route, which is probably why it'll have to have a part 2 (maybe a 3 or a 4, who knows) anyway, yk i'm a sucker for enemies to lovers, that's my ultimate jam ❤️️

3.4k words (shh i know), sfw (slightly suggestive), 18+, mdni; angst, angst, angst; reader is broke as hell and gojo is obnoxious af; the competition is definitely shady, and the host doesn't make anything better, but we all love a good mystery, right? no real warnings other than gojo is a pretty mfer who needs to sit his pretty ass down somewhere.

several stacks of envelopes litter the kitchen table, accompanied by an untouched plate with a now cold breakfast — a poached egg, thin slices of burnt, buttered toast, a few measly grapes, and half of a banana. lukewarm café con leche sits a small mug with a faded design on the front and a chip on the handle, surrounded by torn pieces of napkin, the piles growing by the minute.

a light flickers in and out from above, the last working bulb as the others have all gone out and are too damn expensive to replace; the air conditioner went out a week ago, and, even with the windows open, the heat somehow finds its way into the apartment building, cooking its inhabitants without a second thought.

after staring at a suspicious spot on your wall, your vision blurs and you blink rapidly in the hopes that it’ll return properly. you stopped opening the envelopes after you found the fifth bill. everything is due, and you have nothing to show for it.

“damn it.”

hot, bitter tears roll down your cheeks, ones you ignore and don’t bother wiping away; a pink envelope catches your eye and you grab it without thinking. there’s no return address on the front, but your name is written in an elegant script with silver ink.

you briefly wonder if it’s another wedding invitation, which only makes you laugh out loud — your friends stopped inviting you ages ago, after you kept flaking. a familiar ache plagues your chest, and you rub at it absently; you don’t like thinking about stuff like that, about friends you couldn’t keep, about promises you kept breaking. it was never intentional on your part, not really, but circumstances brought you to where you are now.

there’s no going back.

ripping the envelope open, you don’t see anything inside but a small business card at the bottom. it’s completely black save for an address that’s printed on the front in white ink. blinking repeatedly, you turn the card around, don’t find a name or even a business logo. strange. very, very strange.

“whatever, probably nothing serious.” you toss the card in the trash and clear the kitchen table.

more pink envelopes find you as the week goes on — on the windshield of your car, tucked neatly under your windshield wiper; on top of your keyboard at work, where you look around suspiciously to see who could’ve left it there; and in your tote where you carry groceries, which surprises you as it wasn’t in there before you went into the store.

“fine!” you exclaim loudly, tossing the last envelope onto your messy bed. “i’ll go to whatever stupid address you keep trying to lure me to.” you’re not sure who you’re talking to, but clearly someone desperately wants you to see them. and, after all the bullshit that life’s thrown at you, what do you have to lose?

your life? your dignity? your sanity?

on your day off, you decide to check out the address in question. it’s a little over an hour away, but you don’t care. curiosity gets the best of you, has you driving faster than usual — you tend to stick to the speed limit most days — music blasting as you eat a granola bar, giving yourself a mini-pep talk as you try to guess what could be waiting for you at your destination.

when you arrive, you’re surprised to see a crowd of people outside of an isolated building. you suppose that this is where your mysterious stalker wanted to go, so you keep to the back of the crowd, hoping to just hear what they have to say and leave. the card sits heavily in your wallet; you’re not sure why you brought it with you, but you didn’t want to take any chances — you’re stuck in your thoughts and barely notice the crowd has quieted down significantly, parting swiftly to allow for a tall man to stride through. he’s dressed sharply — slim fit suit with a tie to match, hair neat, face blemish free. everything about him screams elegance, but something about his eyes — the sharpness of his gaze, of how he commands silence without even speaking — sends a chill down your spine.

you’re rarely spooked, but something about him tells you he’s not to be taken lightly.

“welcome, welcome,” he says after a while, a small mic is attached to the lapel of his suit jacket, and stands on the small stage in front of the crowd. you hadn’t noticed it before — probably because you’re all the way in the back, but you strain your neck and try to listen anyway. “you all have been chosen to participate in a competitive show, where you have the chance to win millions of dollars.” that gets the crowd going. you jump when everyone starts shouting and clapping, voicing their approval of the grand prize.

with a tight-lipped smile on, the man continues, “it won’t be easy, but if you put in hard work, it’ll be worth it in the end.” you find that his words are vague enough to absolve him — and whoever is financing this endeavor — of whatever happens should something happen to the participants. no one else seems bothered by this, though, and you know you shouldn’t get hung up on it, but your gut is rarely wrong about these things.

“sounds like a load of shit,” comes a smooth voice behind you; with a slight frown, you turn around and are greeted with a cheeky grin from the person behind you. he has on a pair of dark sunglasses — so dark you wonder how he’s able to see through them — with an all-black attire, a startling contrast to his pallid skin and frighteningly light hair — so silver it’s practically white. you don’t like that his voice is pleasing, you also don’t like the way he shoves his hands in his pockets and tilts his head as he towers over you.

gojo satoru isn’t necessarily strapping for cash, but he loves a good challenge — plus adding more money to his reserve can’t hurt; the idea of fame and fortune is lucrative enough to make him want to participate freely. he’s noticed that most of the people gathered here today are either in dire financial situations or just like the idea of being on TV. he pities them, and you, apparently.

he spotted you immediately when you arrived, having been there early enough to scope out the competition — you were the last one to come, and you didn’t seem apologetic for your tardiness. he runs his tongue along the back of his teeth, noting how pretty you are, despite looking like you don’t want to be bothered — and, naturally, he wants to do just that; push you and see how far you’re willing to let him dig until you snap.

something tells him it’ll be a sight to see.

despite having chugged two energy drinks, you still feel tired. you run a hand through your hair, tugging on a particularly stubborn curl, brown fingers untangling it, fuming when it doesn’t cooperate the way you want it to, as he watches closely. you can feel his eyes on you, but you’re not sure — again, his sunglasses are too dark for you to tell.

“do you need something?” you ask carefully, eyes narrowing, plush bottom lip jutting out as you attempt to figure out his angle. “if not, leave me alone.” you swivel around and face forward again, attempting to tune back in to whatever bullshit they’re trying to sell to the crowd about the competition.

“ouch,” gojo says while rubbing his chest absently, “not the friendly type, huh.” you roll your eyes at that, let out a frustrated breath and keep your face forward.

“something like that,” you mumble, mostly to yourself, but he hears you loud and clear.

“don’t worry, that’ll change soon.” he sounds so fucking sure of himself and it pisses you off. you ball your hands into fists, nails pricking your skin; he notices the tension in your shoulders, in the stiff way you keep your head and neck straight, and snorts quietly. he places a hand on your shoulder and you practically leap out of your skin, shimmying out of his grasp, eyes widening — your brown eyes aflame, your anger bubbling quickly. he laughs and puts his hands up, an apology dangling off his tongue, but you cut him off before he can say anything.

“look, i don’t know what your fucking angle is,” you say venomously, arms crossed over your chest, “but the next time you touch me, i’ll cut your hand off.” you’re not serious, but you hope your face is bitchy enough to deter him from trying that again.

gojo simply laughs and tucks his hands back into his pockets. “noted, shorty.” for some reason, the nickname that never really bothered you before, truly grinds your gears now.

“whatever, just stay away from me.” you move forward to give yourself some space and realize that the man on the stage has disappeared and everyone is being ushered through the front doors of the building by several people in matching uniforms. you hesitate, watching the crowd move away from you and from gojo who — for whatever reason — decides to hang back alongside you.

lips twitching, he glances at you, amused by your standoffish behavior. “scared?”

you blink in surprise, but your brows slope downward as you stare him down. “of what? this?” you scoff and start to walk to the building in question. “never. i’m not afraid of anything.”

this is the first of many lies that you’ll exchange with gojo throughout the duration of the competition.

the interior of the building reminds you of a ritzy hotel — glamorous, expensive, the floors so shiny they can be used as mirrors — and you frown at the thought. you’ve lived in the surrounding area the majority of your life; you’d know if there was a hotel of this caliber here. gojo explains that the building was recently bought and renovated over the past year, which makes sense, but still doesn’t explain why the outside is so bland and empty.

again, you feel an uneasiness crawl into your stomach; something doesn’t feel right. when you look over your shoulder, you see two more uniformed employees stationed at the double doors — almost as if they’re blocking you all in — and others patrolling the area. you try to look around inconspicuously, but eventually follow the others to the main ballroom. it’s more than spacious enough, chairs and tables strategically placed around the room. you take a seat in the back corner and grab one of the complimentary bottles of water that sit on a shiny tray in the middle of the table. it’s an expensive brand that you can’t find readily in stores. you wonder how much it cost to buy so many cases, wonder how many thousands of dollars you could make if you stole them all and drove off without looking back.

the water is surprisingly cool, running down your throat smoothly; you feel refreshed and pissed that it tastes so good — meanwhile you’re stuck refilling your reusable bottles using the crappy tap water back at home. the man in the suit reappears on stage, commanding everyone’s attention as the lights dim. he, once again, welcomes the crowd to the competition.

“before we can begin, there are a few clerical things that need addressing.” his voice booms around the room, and the lights come back on as the uniformed employees make their way around the room, passing out thick packets of paper. “your contract is binding,” the host says gleefully, a sly smirk on his lips, making you narrow your eyes, once again feeling that something is very off about this whole affair. maybe you shouldn’t have come at all.

your chair makes the loudest scraping sound against the floor when you scoot away from the table and stand up. an employee blocks your way and you raise a brow at them, lips pressed together as you attempt to summon all of your patience in order to speak politely.

“please, move out of my way.”

they don’t move and the host turns his watchful gaze towards you. “ah, ah, ah,” he waves a finger in disapproval, “no one can leave until we finish the presentation, okay?” his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, everything about him is fake but something in his tone makes you hesitate before taking a seat again. “excellent” he claps his hands together and continues droning on about the contract. “please read through everything carefully before signing. it’s your standard contract, basically outlining that you cannot sue us if you get hurt while performing some of the stunts.”

murmurs break out amongst the other contestants, to which the host follows up with, “but rest assured, you will all be perfectly safe. all of our courses have been tested, this is just in case, you know? we all need a little guarantee in life, right?” he laughs and the crowd laughs with him — save for you, gojo, and a handful of others. “alright, folks, take your time and hand the contract back to any of the uniformed employees. there’s a section where you can check whether you’d like to continue competing or not.” and, before he steps off the stage, he scans the crowd, and ominously adds, “just know, that it’s in your best interest to stay and see this through ‘til the end.”

“nope,” you mumble to yourself, flip through the thick packet and chew on your thumbnail anxiously. “this shit’s suspicious as fuck.” there’s no way the others can’t see what you see, right? you’re not the only one who thinks all of this is bullshit. you flip to the back page and sigh, opening your water bottle again and taking a small gulp. you turn your head and see gojo — he’s much too tall for the chair, long legs spread as he takes up more space than necessary. he has a sleek jaw, slender nose, and relatively nice lips even if all they do is spew nonsense.

immediately you scoff at the thought, hating yourself just a little the longer you look at him. and then he does the worst thing possible; he takes off his sunglasses, places them neatly on the table, leans back against the chair and closes his eyes. impossible, absolutely impossible. his fair lashes curl delicately around his eyes, and he rubs his eyelids briefly before opening his eyes again.

it’s your fault for deciding on that moment to drink more of the water — water that you choke on — it’s also your fault that you keep looking at him. you knew, even with the sunglasses on, that he was handsome, but this? this was absurd. something much more breathtaking than a diamond, glittering more than gold or silver, he radiates a graceful beauty that pisses you off. he catches you looking at him and the corners of his lips curl upwards as he tilts his head, hair falling over his face from the movement.

“oh, hell,” you say out loud, forcefully squeezing the life out of the water bottle unintentionally, the liquid shooting out of the open top and splashing on your face. a couple people snicker around you, and gojo tries to hide his amusement but fails. irritation prickles underneath your skin, bowling over the embarrassment you feel over spilling water over your self — again, you’re at fault for staring for so long, you should’ve looked away when you had the chance.

your face heats up and you scramble around and grab some napkins to dab up the water.

gojo, meanwhile, focuses back on the contract before him, taking a deep breath before flipping through the pages with his lithe fingers. speed reading is an art that he mastered a long time ago — and contracts weren’t anything difficult, he could read them in his sleep. there are a few predatory clauses that stand out to him, glaringly obvious ones that he’s sure the host banked on the contestants being too ignorant to sort through.

he lifts his head to count the employees again — there are twenty-five currently in the room with concealed weapons, which strikes him as odd; if this is just a competitive game show, then why would they need to be armed? he files that away to investigate later, but more importantly, he’s reached the last page of the contract.

while the host didn’t exactly lie, there are two boxes there — but opting out of this competition before the allotted 30 days are up, puts you in a lottery for the next one, and so forth. basically, you can’t get out of the contract with this unknown corporation, unless you complete the minimum requirements. his theory about the competition falls into place; accepting their invitation is the first step, willingly entering the building is the second, and the third is signing the contract. no matter which option you choose, you’re doomed to compete. he bites his lip and slips his sunglasses onto his face, hating how bright the light is inside.

the contract also outlines the requirements for competing — there are 100 contestants in total, and everyone will be paired off into groups of ten; these groups cannot be changed without clearance from the host or whichever manager is running the game in question.

your brows furrow together as you try to figure out how to get out of this, not wanting — or caring, really — about competing anymore. without you knowing, gojo changes seats so he sits directly across from you.

“i take it you’ve read the contract, right?”

his voice slides down your body, thick like honey, and equally as tempting. you hate it, you hate him, and you hate that you’re actually looking up and engaging.

“obviously,” your voice is clipped, terse, you don’t want to talk to him more than you have to.

“so you know, your best bet is to partner with someone inside the group, right?”

you know what he’s getting at, but you hate that it’s him who is suggesting it.

“your point?” you don’t bother drinking from that villainous bottle of water again for fear of choking in his presence.

it’s cute that you keep pushing back against him, that you don’t want to like him — he can tell. that stubbornness might be your downfall, but he doesn’t hate it; in fact, he might just like that part of you.

“my point,” he leans forward, and you flinch, his cologne a rich, earthy mixture — sandalwood, warm cinnamon, and amber — choking you as he continues talking candidly with you, “is that we should work together. it’s obvious there’s something much more sinister at play here. it’s good to have allies.” you watch the way his mouth moves, take note of how white and straight his teeth are, and for some reason, you’re wondering if running his mouth is all he’s good at.

cheeks aflame, you cough into a closed fist and consider his proposition. “tempting,” you pretend to think it over, but in all honesty, he’s right. but you don’t like it, don’t like that you haven’t found anyone else to partner up with, and don’t like that he might be your lifeline in this competition.

“let’s start with introductions, yeah?” he places his hands flat on the table. “gojo satoru,” he says briskly, and then grins cheekily, “now you.”

you blink slowly and sigh, tugging on your curls in frustration. “fine, i’m y/n.” he already knew that, though; he knows everyone’s name in the room, actually — he’s done his due diligence, he just didn’t think he’d be stuck with a bogus contract. he’s sure they’ve also locked the doors to exit the building too.

“well, y/n,” he drawls, extending a hand for you to shake, “let’s make sure that we come out on top.” you know better than to trust a smooth talker like gojo, but you place your hand in his anyway, surprised at how cool his skin is, and shake it firmly. you hope you’re not making a mistake, hope that your body will stop making you think impossible things about the man before you, and hope that if you must participate in a bogus competition, that you’ll actually win the money.

after all, what will all this be for if you can’t manage to do a simple task like that?

[0tivez]

gojo would be like kris jenner with the "youre doing amazing sweetie" and like regina George's mom dancing while recording. I love dad!gojo hcs so much, I have a bunch of random ones for him

no bc I forgot I had watched it and then I read your response and audibly groaned 😭 I just, I cant I have this specific moment that just did it for me but its a spoiler and a tw bc it mentions dark themes?? I don't know if I should write the word or if youre comfy with it. that scene just, it reminded me of the video of he loaf of bread that just falls and its like a dead plop sound?? the Tokyo revengers equivalent

My cousin told me the story is absolute bs, and im paraphrasing bc she genuinely despised it, so ig im just watching it yeah I don't know, op is cool and thats the highlight of each episode. I like the character design although they give me riverdale vibes bc they don't look 14/15 and that just, its like shellshock to me

sometimes I miss my queen era ngl :/ simpler times. I went to watch the movie 3 times I think, and all my opinions were so biased LMFAO actually, I went to watch that movie for my first date! the guy was really sweet, we were classmates, but then he gave me the ick lol

the weeb representation had a glow up 😌👊 im glad people are more accepting of other people's interests. tho if I have to be honest, where im from people still look down on anime/manga enjoyers; enjoyers of any sort of media/interest that doesn't adhere to society's norms tbh lol am I gonna start ugly ranting now?? TT

THEY DONT KNOW THAT YET LMFAO Im glad to hear that your dad and his friend enjoy aot :D I hope you have fun rewatching it!! im forever stuck on s2 💀 though now that you mention aot, what are your thoughts on erenmika existing?? I have mixed thoughts?? I don't know enough to form a true argument based opinion but Im kinda meh about it :,)

I never heard of enneagrams before :O I feel like maybe Aki could develop a soft spot for Megumi. I KNOW SHIT ABOUT KNY BUT I LOVE TANJIRO HES ADORABLE TT

Im so excited to listen to Gojo's va do the dialogue when he's talking to Kenjaku before he's boxed!!!! AAAA I just need it. but to be fair, whenever I read gojo (be it manga or fics) I give him a more high pitched voice?? I don't know its weird :p

I wish voice acting would be more appreciated. I don't think a lot of people I know consider it to be 'that big of a deal' but its so cool and everyone is missing out im gonna drop kick everyone idc.

gege probably reads "gojo angst, hurt/no-comfort, major character death" tagged works. he most def knows how much people like stsg and thats why he makes us suffer. convinced this man wants to watch the world burn

I just remembered I had a convo with a friend about Gojo's character and I almost burst into a crying fit bc I didn't like how they perceived my bf his character LMFAO that day I learned im not exactly tolerant of some opinions, and thats fine. I accept it myself; self love

ill smack as many bitches as you need 😌👊 ill be your personal bitch smacker <3 convinced college is a hell simulator by now 😭 but you've got this! <3

I think its stupid for people to expect teenagers to decide what they wanna study as soon as they finish school; specially bc a lot of schools don't offer any guidance at all whatsoever, and when they do, its always Half assed. I'd get better help from a buzzfeed quiz that tells me my ideal career based on my fave chair design istg. ill think about the comms, applications close the 24th of march so I still have a few days to think ig.

growing up I always wanted to open a bakery so maybe ill end up doing that at some point in my life 🤷‍♀️ I think as of lately, im learning that college really isn't everything and there are so many twists and turns in life that anything could happen. It makes me a little more relaxed to think that no matter what ill be okay! ya know??

THANK YOU SO MUCH YOURE GONNA MAKE ME CRY 😭 I worked really hard on it and im glad people are enjoying it! I have a few wips planned out but im so fucking lazy TT yesterday I wrote a bunch of ideas for a nanami thing im working on; his character is so hard to write imo and that kills me inside. I've never seen many college aus for him so I wanted to try writing one, and this bitch, I feel its so ooc im gonna scream. ANYWAY, i went on a bit of a rant there, but thank you so much! your words mean the world to me; im squealing right now 😭 I also had the chance to read your geto fic and Jesus fucking christ, all I can say is that youre an amazing writer and that im a whor-!

I hope youre having a good one! mwah! :*

also, I read wet kisses instead of the coherent last sentence you wrote and I screamed LMFAO

-🥳 anon

dad!gojo fills me with so much joy lord

the loaf?? slkmcfsdlemfw i'm a bit lost but that bread video kills me every time. what's the word?? i won't get triggered, if it's trigerring i can send it i'm so curious now

yeah s1 is pretty... bad? i heard that the manga was better but it's kinda going down hill too. i should continue reading it ig at least for the hot guys i keep seeing

AAH YES i met this really cute guy bc of queen it's kinda wild. i ALMOST had a crush on him llkwmscflsmdef which is a very rare occurrence but he graduated before i could develop feelings. and omg this is actually pretty wild. my uni is in the same city as his and he was like "we can go out together sometime" and i was like yeah!! it's a pretty long story and i was dumb like DUMB dumb but anyways he said "remind me and we'll arrange it" which i found weird but agreed. i never reminded him lol

sorry that was very off topic lol

why did he give you the ick tho 🤨

i feel like it depends on physical appearance a lot. you know the stereotypical weeb. it's cool unless you look like them. wild. when i met that guy, i had 0 anime knowledge and one of those assholes that were like "why watch anime when REAL shows exist" KLMSALWKESDM he really liked naruto and i was like.... hmm....

oh how the turn tables

i should really forget this guy omg

i always found eremika very obvious. i was okay with it, but the last arc made it an incredible ship for me. i think lots of people forget that eren was an angsty 15 yo obsessed with war. of course he won't be into love shit. when does he realize his feelings for mikasa? after he learns the truth about the walls aka when he basically gives up on his ideals and focuses on saving his friends and fulfilling his duty. i mean, look at jean. he used to be all over mikasa at the start but when things get tough, he stops being all over her but lives his feelings inside. i mean, he dreams about having a family with mikasa, but he rarely shows affection towards her (except for the protective stuff). i think eremika could have been given more spotlight but it was very obvious it would be canon. i like their dynamics, wish we could see eren with his aaron yoghurt self a bit more lol

also, jeankasa SUCKS. my baby jean deserves to be the first choice. i think, MAYBE, eren might have mentioned mikasa during his speech with jean at the very end. tho never confirmed, i find it very plausible. ngl jean and pieck would be a bomb couple and i was so on board with it

i have no idea how enneagrams work either 😭 megumi is a sweetheart in his core so yeah aki would absolutely have a soft spot for him. he would be a big brother 🥺

tanjiro is the best boy in existence and lo and behold, i call that the natsuki hanae effect KJNWASKAEF again with the va's. he always voices the cutest characters: falco, ken kaneki, tanjiro lol

i'm avoiding that convo as much as possible. the "yo satoru" LKMWQALDKM i keep stumbling upon geto and gojo calling each other from jjk0 and it breaks my heart so much. gojo saying suguru in a concerned but determined tone and geto saying satoru with so much love 😭😭😭😭 i want to watch it so much

yeah especially japanese voice acting. i keep seeing clips comparing dub and sub and as much as dub is good, it's nowhere near sub. i wish hollywood, the largest film industry, would cherish it as much as japan does. japanese va's receive special training from special schools and america casts..... chris pratt

i don't even understand why dub isn't good. death note's dub was fucking god tier. american cartoons also have incredible voice acting WHY is the dub like that 😭 with all due respect, of course

wlkdsmalkwef no bc i mostly see japanese fics with gojo/megumi and gojo/itadori so imagine gege visits ao3 and keeps seeing gojo being shipped with children 😭

i feel like stsg hurts gege too lkMSLKFEWMS it HAS to be something more than hurting gojo at this point, he's torturing them AND us </3

nah not all opinions matter. periodt. LMWSDLFM jk (not really) what did they say tho?? i also keep seeing shit takes on gojo's characters

well, in my country, you have to choose something in 10th grade so you can prepare properly in 11th grade. bullshit

aah that's esciting! tell me what you decide on :) i'm also gonna apply for a summer school program abroad. it's just 4 days but it's in ireland and about disabilities law. i don't really think i will get in tbh but it's worth the try

uuu bakery au 😼 make sure to keep an eye out for a 183m blonde man with a rolex and IMMIDEATLY give him my number 😌

i was JUST gonna say i'm on my nanami phase lmdklamwsf PLEASE write it!!!! i can't believe nanami is the only character who canonically went to college and the character with the least college fics 😭 i've also never thought about it tbh so yours would be sooo goood!!! will it be angsty again?

aah please you deserve all the praises!!

omg staaahp you're making me blush 😼 thank youu tbh i don't really like that fic lol maybe i can polish it a little one day

have a wonderful week :* wet slurpy kisses 😼