@adg_artwork: repost it wuth different song i have some crazy energy for gojo draw rn #animefyp #horror #animeart #jjk #gojo

adg_artwork🇮🇹

Open In TikTok:

Region: IT

Friday 12 June 2026 11:17:55 GMT

216406

41508

238

2058

Music

Download

No Watermark .mp4 (0MB) No Watermark(HD) .mp4 (0MB) Watermark .mp4 (0MB) Music .mp3

Comments

DiarrheaDemon :

I don't remember them enjoying it like this😭

2026-06-13 09:15:19

1640

ptrfye :

shouldn’t gojo be muryo kusho not ryoiki tenkai

2026-06-13 21:54:50

138

Hakari Glazer :

this implies there is a little bit of good in sukuna

2026-06-15 18:21:59

1

Jonathan :

Made sukuna look like he’s evil or sum 😭

2026-06-13 07:40:56

3527

alvezz_mdm :

2026-06-12 20:10:00

1013

𝓟4𝓲𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓭 :

sukuna is Tuffest character

2026-06-13 18:53:38

247

Shadow :

2026-06-13 20:32:04

61

Manami Sangaku :

Why Sukuna is so scary? Didn't he save people like Ryu and Yorozu? He also like his nephew Itadori

2026-06-14 09:45:10

29

7 x 7 = 49 :

made gojo look more evil than sukuna💔

2026-06-13 23:06:21

6

Mam1Mand0 :

These 2 HAD to go bro😭

2026-06-13 08:29:07

16

Moosetafa :

Making sukuna evil is the dumbest thing I've seen all day, he's clearly the King Of Kindness

2026-06-14 04:56:27

13

MilanSonic30 :

Also watermark yo shit bro😭

2026-06-12 13:51:45

82

Duck man. :

something I like about jjk is everyone kind of look like the villain😭🙏

2026-06-14 01:46:52

9

Amimedh :

they look terrifying😭

2026-06-12 15:23:54

258

MilanSonic30 :

I must be Jane the eay I'm early to PEAK

2026-06-12 13:51:17

52

liwhed :

made the king of blessings look evil✌️😭

2026-06-13 23:22:57

19

seto :

made sukuna like he the strongest in history or sum ✌️

2026-06-14 00:49:42

10

Excali_ :

2026-06-13 04:40:16

6

elia.bbs✨ :

🔥🔥🔥DAMN🔥🔥🔥

2026-06-12 11:28:08

9

Nugusugus :

Shouldn't the yang be yuji instead of gojo?

2026-06-13 07:28:09

21

To see more videos from user @adg_artwork, please go to the Tikwm homepage.

Other Videos

شايف لمن وحدك تضل #محبين_الشعر_الشعبي_العراقي #شعراء_وذواقين_الشعر_الشعبي #محبين_الشعر_الشعبي

شايف لمن وحدك تضل #محبين_الشعر_الشعبي_العراقي #شعراء_وذواقين_الشعر_الشعبي #محبين_الشعر_الشعبي

البولغاااا🇦🇷💫 #ميسي #كأس_العالم #messi #football #explore

البولغاااا🇦🇷💫 #ميسي #كأس_العالم #messi #football #explore

👉যে স্বামীর আমার চোখের পানি দেখলে... 🥲💯 #HomeCooking #LifeLessons #EverydayMoments #RealLifeTalk #CookingWithLove 🍲❤️ @TikTok Bangladesh

👉যে স্বামীর আমার চোখের পানি দেখলে... 🥲💯 #HomeCooking #LifeLessons #EverydayMoments #RealLifeTalk #CookingWithLove 🍲❤️ @TikTok Bangladesh

#JIHOON #DOHOON WHY IS THIS DUO ALWAYS SO CVTE N FUNNY?😭 #tws #hoonhoonz #fyp

#JIHOON #DOHOON WHY IS THIS DUO ALWAYS SO CVTE N FUNNY?😭 #tws #hoonhoonz #fyp

She kept the puppy under the bend of her front leg. Not tucked neatly. Not in a way that looked comfortable. Just close enough that if anyone came too near, her body would be the first thing they met. The corner was damp and narrow. Old leaves had stuck to the floor where rainwater had dried into dark patches. The wall behind her was rough, stained, and cold enough that her shoulder pressed against it only because there was nowhere softer to lean. She was very thin. Not the kind of thin that happens from missing one meal. The kind that changes how a body rests. Her hips showed. Her legs folded under her carefully. Even the simple act of staying upright seemed to take planning. But the puppy was cleaner than she was. That was what made the scene harder to look away from. He was small, pale, almost bare in places, sitting beneath her like a secret she was trying to keep from the world. His little head leaned forward, tired and unsure, while she watched everything for both of them. She did not growl when someone stopped nearby. She did not have enough strength for that. Instead, she lifted her eyes. They were not angry eyes. They were not wild. They were the eyes of a mother who had already learned that being afraid would not stop the day from coming. So she stayed still, holding her fear inside her ribs, saving whatever energy she had for the little body pressed against her chest. The puppy shifted once. Just a small movement. Her leg tightened around him immediately. That was her language now. Not barking. Not pleading. Just that one tired leg pulling him closer, as if closeness could make up for everything else she could not give him. There was no blanket. No bowl. No clean place to lie down. Only the corner. The corner had become her room, her door, her shelter, her warning sign. It gave her two walls, and two walls meant fewer directions to watch. She could keep her back protected. She could keep her puppy beneath her. She could look out at the open side and decide, second by second, whether the next sound was danger or help. A person crouched several feet away and set down food. She saw it. Of course she saw it. Her body noticed before her trust did. But she did not move. The puppy was under her. The open space between her and the bowl felt too large. A few steps can feel like a long road when you have been surviving in a corner. So the person pushed nothing closer. They only backed away and waited. After a while, the puppy made a soft sound. Not loud. Barely more than breath. She lowered her head toward him. Her nose touched the top of his small head for one second, then lifted again to watch the person. That was the small detail that stayed with everyone later. Even starving, even exhausted, even scared enough to press herself into a dirty wall, she checked on him before she checked on the food. Before this corner, she had known another kind of waiting. Maybe there had been a yard once. Maybe a porch. Maybe a place where she learned the sound of a door opening in the evening. She must have known people closely enough to believe, at least for a while, that people were part of life. Then something changed. Maybe slowly. Food came later. Voices got shorter. The space given to her became smaller. And when her belly grew, when her body needed more care instead of less, patience may have disappeared from the house before she did. She would not have understood any of it. She would have only known that she was still the same dog. The same one who looked up when footsteps passed. The same one who waited near a door. The same one who tried to be quiet, easy, small enough not to bother anyone. Then the puppy came. And whatever fear she had carried for herself became something heavier. Now she had to find a place to hide him from cold floors, from strange noises, from the wrong kind of hands. She had to stay awake longer than her body wanted. She had to give warmth even when she had almost none left. #DogRescue #save

She kept the puppy under the bend of her front leg. Not tucked neatly. Not in a way that looked comfortable. Just close enough that if anyone came too near, her body would be the first thing they met. The corner was damp and narrow. Old leaves had stuck to the floor where rainwater had dried into dark patches. The wall behind her was rough, stained, and cold enough that her shoulder pressed against it only because there was nowhere softer to lean. She was very thin. Not the kind of thin that happens from missing one meal. The kind that changes how a body rests. Her hips showed. Her legs folded under her carefully. Even the simple act of staying upright seemed to take planning. But the puppy was cleaner than she was. That was what made the scene harder to look away from. He was small, pale, almost bare in places, sitting beneath her like a secret she was trying to keep from the world. His little head leaned forward, tired and unsure, while she watched everything for both of them. She did not growl when someone stopped nearby. She did not have enough strength for that. Instead, she lifted her eyes. They were not angry eyes. They were not wild. They were the eyes of a mother who had already learned that being afraid would not stop the day from coming. So she stayed still, holding her fear inside her ribs, saving whatever energy she had for the little body pressed against her chest. The puppy shifted once. Just a small movement. Her leg tightened around him immediately. That was her language now. Not barking. Not pleading. Just that one tired leg pulling him closer, as if closeness could make up for everything else she could not give him. There was no blanket. No bowl. No clean place to lie down. Only the corner. The corner had become her room, her door, her shelter, her warning sign. It gave her two walls, and two walls meant fewer directions to watch. She could keep her back protected. She could keep her puppy beneath her. She could look out at the open side and decide, second by second, whether the next sound was danger or help. A person crouched several feet away and set down food. She saw it. Of course she saw it. Her body noticed before her trust did. But she did not move. The puppy was under her. The open space between her and the bowl felt too large. A few steps can feel like a long road when you have been surviving in a corner. So the person pushed nothing closer. They only backed away and waited. After a while, the puppy made a soft sound. Not loud. Barely more than breath. She lowered her head toward him. Her nose touched the top of his small head for one second, then lifted again to watch the person. That was the small detail that stayed with everyone later. Even starving, even exhausted, even scared enough to press herself into a dirty wall, she checked on him before she checked on the food. Before this corner, she had known another kind of waiting. Maybe there had been a yard once. Maybe a porch. Maybe a place where she learned the sound of a door opening in the evening. She must have known people closely enough to believe, at least for a while, that people were part of life. Then something changed. Maybe slowly. Food came later. Voices got shorter. The space given to her became smaller. And when her belly grew, when her body needed more care instead of less, patience may have disappeared from the house before she did. She would not have understood any of it. She would have only known that she was still the same dog. The same one who looked up when footsteps passed. The same one who waited near a door. The same one who tried to be quiet, easy, small enough not to bother anyone. Then the puppy came. And whatever fear she had carried for herself became something heavier. Now she had to find a place to hide him from cold floors, from strange noises, from the wrong kind of hands. She had to stay awake longer than her body wanted. She had to give warmth even when she had almost none left. #DogRescue #save

Replying to @bonni.baayisaa.yesus

Replying to @bonni.baayisaa.yesus

About

Robot
API

Legal

Privacy Policy