Hot take: people saying that “Pessi” paid the referees and the WC is rigged are larpers who will believe anything they see. If you really believe that Messi paid the refs I bet this yo first WC
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1. I'm allergic to a lot of fruits and veggies for some reason. I can eat them if they've been cooked and the reaction is mild when they are peeled. It's not that bad of a reaction though, it's mainland just itchy.
2. Melon Soda
3. I write fanfic and play a lot of video games.
4. The among us show(it's way better then i thought it was gonna be)
AWWW!!! TYSM FOR THE TAGG!!! (o≧▽゜)o (*^▽^)/★*☆♪(cheesecakes are soooo good....😭🫶🫶)
1) maybe that if someone told me to cook something for them I'll only create something that doesn't look like food and it's in reality poison because I can't even cook an egg right 😭😭 (and i'm italian btw 😔✌️)
2) coca cola 🫰
3)draw, write fics (it's a little hobby but i'm developping) and I play games
4) idk if this counts because I don't watch a lot of tv but i watch "Witch Hat Atelier" (a masterpiece 🥹🫶🤍)
5)i'm not reading a book rn but I think I'll read "Evelyn"
Thank you so much for tagging me !!!! ( ⸝⸝´ ᵕ `⸝⸝)
I am surprisingly good at Mancala :))
Mango juice!
I love writing, and I do it often, especially my book! I also like playing games and am going to start deltarune tomorrow I think, and I also like watching anime!
Dungeon Meshi!
Animal Farm by George Orwell! m reading 2 at the same time :)
MACARONS!!!
Tags: @shrimpyfrfr, @mars2moons, @muffyfluffy, @dreamsomnias, @aureeeliaa, @awhiteroseinblood, @mars-0425, @pushingpesticides (have wanted to meet ya for a while now! Hello [again]!!) @landofw0nder (even though I already know who ya are... hi ml!!) + open tags!!
1) I chug coffee creamer specifically Hazelnut flavour
2)My favorite drink is Arizona because it’s 1 dollar but its also unhealthy so don’t drink it a lot!!! I also like coffee creamer but its also bad for you
3)A hobby I do is play soccer with my cousin but they always make me gk ;-;
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hello hi and thank you for reading!! a bunch of my viewers on tiktok kept saying “wouldn’t satoru be able to know what suguru did before he opened the door because of his six eyes?” and to that i say that this is not canon compliant! in this satoru’s six eyes just dont have the capability to see allat, so he basically got nerfed for the sake of this.. also, this is an old fic, so no judgement..
Sunday
Suguru:
“goodnight satoru ily”
Satoru:
“ily too man 🙂↕️🙂↕️ sleep well my bro”
Monday
Satoru:
“why u not at school??”
Satoru:
“helloooo”
Tuesday
Satoru:
“man where r u??”
Satoru:
“basketball tomorrow? :P”
Wednesday
Satoru:
“i’ll be waiting in the court after class”
Satoru:
“this is me waiting”
Satoru:
“suguruuuuuuu”
Satoru stares at the screen, toying with the hinges of his flip-phone. A pout adorned his usually relaxed face, soft white bangs cascading down his forehead. He’s brought to attention instantly when he notices a presence approaching.
“What’re you doing in here alone?” Shoko’s drawled-out words penetrate the silence, bringing two fingers up to her mouth to remove the cigarette resting upon her lips.
Satoru- perched on the bench in the corner of the court- groans dramatically, cheek resting on the basketball he was holding. “Thought Suguru might’ve come and played. We usually do on Wednesdays. Apparently not.”
He really wondered what Suguru’s problem was. Not only was he ignoring his texts, but he wasn’t coming to class! He hadn’t even come out of his dorm for food. Thinking of it, had he lost weight recently?..
“He could be busy,” She counters.
Satoru barks out a humourless laugh, eyeing Shoko. “What, for three days straight?”
Shoko shrugs, making the decision to leave Gojo to wallow in his annoyance. She wasn’t putting up with an irritable Satoru, no way.
Hearing the sound of her boots clack away, Satoru sighs loudly and bashes his head against the ball cupped in his hands in frustration.
After a little while of “brooding”, he decides to go investigate. He hops up and flings the ball somewhere into the corner of the room. He’d go retrieve Suguru from his room, and then drag him out to play! Perfect.
Upon entering the dorm blocks, Satoru inserts the key into his own door, poking his head inside just enough to yank the spare key Suguru’d given him off of the counter. He closes his door, locking it behind him. Satoru begins to stroll towards Suguru’s door, yet his confident stride wavers at the smell that suddenly infiltrates his nostrils. It seeps out from the gap in Suguru’s door, crawling up into the air. It’s a foul stench. Sweat, rot, tinged with a hint of metal. How had Satoru- or anyone in the dorm block- not noticed that odour? Satoru gags theatrically, taking a moment before finally sticking the key inside the lock.
“Wow, Suguru..” He grumbles to himself. “So much for hygiene.. your dorm smells like an anime convention..”
Finally turning the handle, Satoru steps inside, bending down to remove his shoes. “Yoo, Sugu—“
He shouldn’t have looked up. He felt like his eyes trailed upwards in slow motion. Suguru’s limp feet. His bare legs. His dangling arms. His usually sharp and pretty face which Satoru loved so much, was now discoloured and lifeless, narrow eyes horribly unfocused. His whole body is flaccid. Satoru’s loud words are lost on his tongue, throat closing up like he’s swallowed superglue. In that moment, in that room, Satoru’s world narrows down to a singular, terrifying focal point. He feels like his chest is being crushed by some inexplicable pressure, and he’s suddenly all too aware of the cold sweat that materialised on his face.
Suguru. His best friend. His brother in all but blood, a lover—
He shakes the dreadful thoughts from his mind for a moment, and his body is moving before his brain receives the signals. He bolts up on shaky legs, and he’s instantly at Suguru’s side, slender fingers fumbling with the knot at Suguru’s neck.
“SUGURU! Hey, hey man— what the fuck?!”
He growls in frustration when he can’t get his short nails under it to loosen it, whipping around to run to the kitchen. He snatches a sharp kitchen knife from Suguru’s knife block, taking note of the smaller one being missing. He noticed the little things. Always the little things. So why not this? He’s back at Suguru’s side in no time, reaching up to saw at the rope. As he forces his arms to cooperate, forwards and backwards, thoughts race through his overwhelmed mind. ‘Where’d he get the rope from?’, ‘Why?’, ‘Why didn’t I notice?’, ‘Why didn’t he ask for help?’. The last threads of frayed rope finally give way, and Suguru’s lifeless body collapses down. Satoru catches him before he can hit the ground.
Satoru immediately drops to his knees with his best friend’s body, extending his pointer and middle finger to feel up Suguru’s neck for a pulse.
There’s nothing.
Of course there’s nothing.
Why would there be? It’s been three days, hadn’t it? Three days Suguru’d been rotting. Three days Satoru hadn’t noticed. Three days Satoru hadn’t checked on him. What kind of a friend was he?
Despite knowing it won’t change a thing, Satoru slaps Suguru’s cheek. To stir him. To elicit a reaction, anything. The soft, warm skin now freezing to the touch. Satoru didn’t even realise he was crying until he notices his tears splattering onto Suguru’s thin, dirty and off-white shirt. He desperately continues to feel for a pulse, hoping, praying, for some kind of miracle. He just wanted one thing. He’d do anything, he just.. wanted his best friend. His Suguru.
He leans down to press a lingering kiss to Suguru’s now ice-cold forehead. Registering the unnatural temperature only serves to make his stream of tears come hotter and faster. He never cried, what the hell was this? His sharp, bright blue irises dart across Suguru’s limp body. Seeing him like this, in a tank top and boxers, he can take in everything. He thought he had Suguru’s body planned out already from hours of ogling him in their intimacy or in the shower blocks. But no. He notices more now. His vision is heavily blurred, but he notices. A mole on his right knee, a birthmark on his left index finger. And then he catches it.
Long, red lines littered on his thighs. Some of them deep and angry. Some like cat scratches. Some even white and risen, healed. Satoru feels his stomach drop to his ass, guilt crawling along his insides like an invasive parasite. How didn’t he notice? They were so obvious. So many of them. He didn’t think Suguru was suffering so much. Did he really feel the need to hurt himself..? No, no way, right?
He’d tell Satoru. He’d confide in him.
..Or would he?
He wasn’t the best listener. He’d butt in where his opinion wasn’t needed, probably laugh at problems he found “minor”. Suguru probably feared talking to him.
Satoru cradles his lifeless body tighter against his chest, mumbling sincere apologies into the now matted black locks. They used to be so soft. So silky, so shiny. He hadn’t been taking care of himself. Hadn’t even eaten right, from the looks of things. Satoru should’ve questioned him more. Should’ve noticed. Should’ve.. been there for him.
He feels bile lurch up his throat, sour- leaving an awful aftertaste in his mouth. His stomach twists and churns horrifically with remorse.
‘What was his breaking point?’, Satoru wonders. The thought makes him feel unwell. Was it his ideologies eating away at him? Toji? Riko? Or perhaps just a buildup of everything over years?
He looks up to the ceiling, blinking away more tears. Another sob begins to rise up his throat.
hello hi and thank you for reading!! a bunch of my viewers on tiktok kept saying “wouldn’t satoru be able to know what suguru did before he opened the door because of his six eyes?” and to that i say that this is not canon compliant! in this satoru’s six eyes just dont have the capability to see allat, so he basically got nerfed for the sake of this.. also, this is an old fic, so no judgement..
Sunday
Suguru:
“goodnight satoru ily”
Satoru:
“ily too man 🙂↕️🙂↕️ sleep well my bro”
Monday
Satoru:
“why u not at school??”
Satoru:
“helloooo”
Tuesday
Satoru:
“man where r u??”
Satoru:
“basketball tomorrow? :P”
Wednesday
Satoru:
“i’ll be waiting in the court after class”
Satoru:
“this is me waiting”
Satoru:
“suguruuuuuuu”
Satoru stares at the screen, toying with the hinges of his flip-phone. A pout adorned his usually relaxed face, soft white bangs cascading down his forehead. He’s brought to attention instantly when he notices a presence approaching.
“What’re you doing in here alone?” Shoko’s drawled-out words penetrate the silence, bringing two fingers up to her mouth to remove the cigarette resting upon her lips.
Satoru- perched on the bench in the corner of the court- groans dramatically, cheek resting on the basketball he was holding. “Thought Suguru might’ve come and played. We usually do on Wednesdays. Apparently not.”
He really wondered what Suguru’s problem was. Not only was he ignoring his texts, but he wasn’t coming to class! He hadn’t even come out of his dorm for food. Thinking of it, had he lost weight recently?..
“He could be busy,” She counters.
Satoru barks out a humourless laugh, eyeing Shoko. “What, for three days straight?”
Shoko shrugs, making the decision to leave Gojo to wallow in his annoyance. She wasn’t putting up with an irritable Satoru, no way.
Hearing the sound of her boots clack away, Satoru sighs loudly and bashes his head against the ball cupped in his hands in frustration.
After a little while of “brooding”, he decides to go investigate. He hops up and flings the ball somewhere into the corner of the room. He’d go retrieve Suguru from his room, and then drag him out to play! Perfect.
Upon entering the dorm blocks, Satoru inserts the key into his own door, poking his head inside just enough to yank the spare key Suguru’d given him off of the counter. He closes his door, locking it behind him. Satoru begins to stroll towards Suguru’s door, yet his confident stride wavers at the smell that suddenly infiltrates his nostrils. It seeps out from the gap in Suguru’s door, crawling up into the air. It’s a foul stench. Sweat, rot, tinged with a hint of metal. How had Satoru- or anyone in the dorm block- not noticed that odour? Satoru gags theatrically, taking a moment before finally sticking the key inside the lock.
“Wow, Suguru..” He grumbles to himself. “So much for hygiene.. your dorm smells like an anime convention..”
Finally turning the handle, Satoru steps inside, bending down to remove his shoes. “Yoo, Sugu—“
He shouldn’t have looked up. He felt like his eyes trailed upwards in slow motion. Suguru’s limp feet. His bare legs. His dangling arms. His usually sharp and pretty face which Satoru loved so much, was now discoloured and lifeless, narrow eyes horribly unfocused. His whole body is flaccid. Satoru’s loud words are lost on his tongue, throat closing up like he’s swallowed superglue. In that moment, in that room, Satoru’s world narrows down to a singular, terrifying focal point. He feels like his chest is being crushed by some inexplicable pressure, and he’s suddenly all too aware of the cold sweat that materialised on his face.
Suguru. His best friend. His brother in all but blood, a lover—
He shakes the dreadful thoughts from his mind for a moment, and his body is moving before his brain receives the signals. He bolts up on shaky legs, and he’s instantly at Suguru’s side, slender fingers fumbling with the knot at Suguru’s neck.
“SUGURU! Hey, hey man— what the fuck?!”
He growls in frustration when he can’t get his short nails under it to loosen it, whipping around to run to the kitchen. He snatches a sharp kitchen knife from Suguru’s knife block, taking note of the smaller one being missing. He noticed the little things. Always the little things. So why not this? He’s back at Suguru’s side in no time, reaching up to saw at the rope. As he forces his arms to cooperate, forwards and backwards, thoughts race through his overwhelmed mind. ‘Where’d he get the rope from?’, ‘Why?’, ‘Why didn’t I notice?’, ‘Why didn’t he ask for help?’. The last threads of frayed rope finally give way, and Suguru’s lifeless body collapses down. Satoru catches him before he can hit the ground.
Satoru immediately drops to his knees with his best friend’s body, extending his pointer and middle finger to feel up Suguru’s neck for a pulse.
There’s nothing.
Of course there’s nothing.
Why would there be? It’s been three days, hadn’t it? Three days Suguru’d been rotting. Three days Satoru hadn’t noticed. Three days Satoru hadn’t checked on him. What kind of a friend was he?
Despite knowing it won’t change a thing, Satoru slaps Suguru’s cheek. To stir him. To elicit a reaction, anything. The soft, warm skin now freezing to the touch. Satoru didn’t even realise he was crying until he notices his tears splattering onto Suguru’s thin, dirty and off-white shirt. He desperately continues to feel for a pulse, hoping, praying, for some kind of miracle. He just wanted one thing. He’d do anything, he just.. wanted his best friend. His Suguru.
He leans down to press a lingering kiss to Suguru’s now ice-cold forehead. Registering the unnatural temperature only serves to make his stream of tears come hotter and faster. He never cried, what the hell was this? His sharp, bright blue irises dart across Suguru’s limp body. Seeing him like this, in a tank top and boxers, he can take in everything. He thought he had Suguru’s body planned out already from hours of ogling him in their intimacy or in the shower blocks. But no. He notices more now. His vision is heavily blurred, but he notices. A mole on his right knee, a birthmark on his left index finger. And then he catches it.
Long, red lines littered on his thighs. Some of them deep and angry. Some like cat scratches. Some even white and risen, healed. Satoru feels his stomach drop to his ass, guilt crawling along his insides like an invasive parasite. How didn’t he notice? They were so obvious. So many of them. He didn’t think Suguru was suffering so much. Did he really feel the need to hurt himself..? No, no way, right?
He’d tell Satoru. He’d confide in him.
..Or would he?
He wasn’t the best listener. He’d butt in where his opinion wasn’t needed, probably laugh at problems he found “minor”. Suguru probably feared talking to him.
Satoru cradles his lifeless body tighter against his chest, mumbling sincere apologies into the now matted black locks. They used to be so soft. So silky, so shiny. He hadn’t been taking care of himself. Hadn’t even eaten right, from the looks of things. Satoru should’ve questioned him more. Should’ve noticed. Should’ve.. been there for him.
He feels bile lurch up his throat, sour- leaving an awful aftertaste in his mouth. His stomach twists and churns horrifically with remorse.
‘What was his breaking point?’, Satoru wonders. The thought makes him feel unwell. Was it his ideologies eating away at him? Toji? Riko? Or perhaps just a buildup of everything over years?
He looks up to the ceiling, blinking away more tears. Another sob begins to rise up his throat.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
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