HOLE IN ONE! - Oldmoney!gojo X Golf Scholarship!reader

I want to bite Suguru Geto. Anywhere will do but I just to need to bite him, just gnaw on him a bit to show my love.

I didn’t intend for so much domestic fluff in act two but it is giving me life to write it rn

Hi 💔

I’m sorry if this message feels sudden—I truly don’t want to bother anyone. I’m Areej, a 27-year-old English teacher and writer from Gaza 🇵🇸, and I’m reaching out because my family is in desperate need of help.

The war has taken everything. We’ve lost our home 🏚, and we live each day under the constant threat of bombing and starvation 🥀. I’m trying to evacuate my family—my parents, siblings, two small children, a newborn , and my sister who is deaf —to Egypt, where we hope to find safety 🕊️.

If you’re able to donate 💌 or even just share our campaign 🔁, it could bring us one step closer to survival. Every act of kindness means the world right now 🌍🤍.

Thank you for taking a moment to read 🙏

And if you'd prefer not to receive messages like this, please just let me know—I won’t message again.

With love and hope,

Areej 🤍🌿

@supportmykids

…

Sukuna is used to being pulled into the mortal realm, it was a part of the job as a demon. Most humans ask him for trivial things like wealth or immortality.

He has fun with it because he grants those wishes in the worst ways possible. A man will be wealthy but not be able to access it or if someone asks for immortality he will still let them age.

So when he was summoned he was more then ready to twist whatever wish the person had for him.

What he hadn’t expected was to be summoned to a small kitchen. A pot of something he can’t see simmers on the messy stovetop. He looks around for who summoned him here.

Sukuna’s eyes catch on a human sitting cross legged on the floor, an old tattered book in their hands. They are muttering something about thyme?

“Why have you summoned me here?” Sukuna booms and the human looks up in shock.

“Who are you? How did you get into my apartment?” You ask with confusion and rising concern.

Sukuna reiterates with a sigh, “You summoned me here, what do you want?”

Looking down at the book then back up at him then back to the book you look more and more confused.

“You were supposed to be chilli.” You say slowly to him.

If he wasn’t so miffed at being summoned for nothing he would’ve barked out a laugh. So he pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.

“How did you fuck up a chilli recipe this bad?” He asks you.

“I have never been that good of a cook- but this is a new low for me.” You admit and Sukuna joins you on the floor.

He doesn’t miss how your eyes trace the tattoos on his exposed torso. Maybe this won’t be so pointless after all.

“Well,” Sukuna gives you a smirk, “it looks like we are stuck together until you decide on what you want from me.”

THE PEOPLE HAVE SPOKEN

Thank you Nae! 🥰

Tags- @noodledotzip @getouyuri @mypoptartburnt @m1stm3 & anyone else!

which little plushie are you?

(was tagged here by @massivementalitynut — tysm!!! this was cute 🥹)

🏷️ open tag!

reblog if you have skilled writer friends and you're damn proud of them

🌸 From One Mother’s Heart – Please Read 🌸

My name is Saja. I’m a wife, a mother, and a woman who once believed her story would be simple. I thought my days would be filled with watching my daughter grow — from her first smile to her first steps — surrounded by the small joys of everyday life.

But life had other plans.

War has returned to our home. Again. And once again, we find ourselves living under skies that never seem to rest.

There was a moment — a fragile, breathless moment — when the bombs paused and the world seemed to remember us. It gave us hope. We thought maybe, just maybe, we could start to rebuild. But now, we are back in the dark — hiding, holding on, praying.

I’m writing this not as someone seeking pity, but as a mother who has no other choice but to speak.

Imagine holding your baby in the middle of the night, not because she cried, but because the world outside roared too loud for either of you to sleep. Imagine whispering bedtime stories not to lull her into dreams, but to keep the fear from settling into her tiny bones.

This is my life.

This is my daughter’s life.

And even now — especially now — I believe in softness. I believe in kindness. Because when everything else is taken from you, hope becomes the most valuable thing you have.

Why I’m Reaching Out Our home has been damaged. Our lives changed. But through it all, my daughter wakes up every morning with a smile. She reaches for me with trust, with love, with faith that I will keep her safe.

That’s why I keep going.

I’ve launched a campaign to ask for help — not because it’s easy, but because silence is no longer an option. I am asking for support not just for me, but for my baby, and for the quiet strength of so many mothers like me who are fighting, every single day, to hold their families together.

How You Can Help: 🤍 Help us restore parts of our home so we can live with dignity 🤍 Support women and mothers in Gaza with access to care and resources 🤍 Keep the light of hope alive for a generation born in the shadows of war

💛 If you can, please support our journey here:

Chuffed

I Am Saja – A Mother Holding On Through the Return of War

My name is Saja. I am a wife, a mother to a precious 8-month-old girl, and I am writing this in a moment that I wish I didn’t have to live t

If you can’t give, please consider sharing. Your voice might be the reason someone else hears ours.

From My Heart to Yours Maybe our lives are worlds apart. Maybe you’ve never lived through war. But if you’ve ever held a child and wished the world could be better for them — then you understand more than you know.

I don’t want my daughter to grow up thinking the world turned away.

Please, if you’ve read this far — thank you. Thank you for seeing us. Thank you for caring. We are still here. Still hoping. Still holding on to every kind act like it’s a lifeline.

With love and endless gratitude

Thank you guys for over 100 followers!!!!

Behold the great GURBY 🙌

GURBY RETURNS