Join Satoru & Y/N on their journey through parenthood as they navigate through a curse-filled world with their biological children and their adopted sons, Megumi & Yuji.
It is recommended that you read the fics in the correct order as listed below. Some parts can be read as a stand-alone fic.
𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 (𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈) — ♛
➙ PHONE CALLS || gojo chats with you and your daughter while in the middle of a meeting.
➙ “WHAT? YOU’RE MARRIED? AND YOU’RE A DAD?” || yuji discovers that gojo has a family.
➙ “YOU WANT TO ADOPT ME?” || you & gojo adopt yuji & megumi.
➙ “LET’S HAVE ANOTHER BABY.” — ♛ || after adopting yuji & megumi, you & satoru decide to have another baby.
➙ FIRST FIGHT || the children overhear you & satoru arguing. megumi & itadori try to distract their little sister from it.
➙ VACATION || the entire family goes on a much needed trip & megumi starts adjusting to his new life. (coming soon)
➙ “YOU’RE PREGNANT?” || you’re getting ready to have a baby. (coming soon)
𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀:
These are fics that are a part of this au series but aren’t necessarily “canon” and/or don’t happen within the current timeline of the au series. You can think of these fics as filler, to be honest!
➙ MOTHER, HOUSEWIFE, & SORCERER || the shibuya incident has endangered your entire family. it’s time for you to do something about it. (coming soon)
➙ ALL GROWN UP || your children are all grown up and have had kids of their own. you & satoru are grandparents. (coming soon)
Jen was walking to her class when Eithan hugged her from behind. “Hey Jen!” Jen gave him a small smile and slowly sidled out of his arms.
Eithan noticed and was confused. “Anything wrong?”
Jen smiled and looked away as she said, “We need to talk.”
He stops walking and when Jen turns to look at him, she sees the spark of realisation on his face. She also noticed the one single rose he held in…
Jennifer Cole is a young girl in college with great promise. Everything seems perfect for her. Great in academics, a promising athlete in the track team, and a decent group of friends along with an attentive boyfriend; what more could a college girl out to make a name in the world possibly ask for?
She has a plan and she intends to follow it. She wants what everyone else wants but unlike…
This is a story about a girl, Jennifer and her choices and how they shaped her life. I will try to add chapters as I write them. This is an attempt after God knows how many years to write something. Fingers crossed!
I posted this poem on my social media accounts this week. Don’t judge me, it has been a while but anyway, I thought it would be a nice idea to tell you the story behind this poem, kind of like a “behind the scenes” thing.
I don’t use names. So it will probably have a lot of pronouns. I don’t want to use real names and fake names are seriously hard to think up (Salute to all the authors out there…
So this was a poem I wrote way back in 2013. I was heavily influenced by William Shakespeare and the poem La Belle Dame Sans Merci by John Keats and this is what came from that eclectic combination.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CCP3kZGnvO3/?hl=en
The chilly December winds rustled past; In whose caress the trees basked; The moon shone through the clouds, Refusing to be masked. The splashing water…
I am sitting here on Christmas, one of my favourite days of the year. I am not Christian, I do not believe in Santa or any God for that matter but Christmas just always fills me with happiness.
It isn’t just Christmas, it is Christmas movies and hot chocolate and the warm blankets and everything that comes with it.
The end of the year brings with it happiness, of course but with it a sense of…
synopsis. satoru is dying (he has a fever) and he needs his darling wife (you) to nurse him back to health
contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, even in sickness gojo can still flirt, he yaps a lot abt marriage and he’s kind of perverted, but he’s just so in love why dont you just give him one chance?
notes. i tried to make this very shoujo-esque. cant have a good shoujo anime without a fever episode! this has also been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute. enjoy yet another fic of me showering satoru with affection (sigh).
the cold wooden floors of your dormitory creak underneath your waddling feet. your sleepy haze does not deter you from the strong desire for a cold glass of water.
surprisingly, the usual dark communal kitchen is illuminated by the small lightbulb inside of the fridge. you hear shuffling of some items from the white icebox, removing any ounce of sleepiness from you. it was unusual for anyone to be up at four in the morning.
a tuft of white hair peeks over the refrigerator door, giving the culprit’s identity away.
“satoru? i thought you were still on that mission in sendai?”
the sounds of digging pauses. satoru’s rises to his full height, towering over the rundown refrigerator door. he gives you a crooked smile that you rarely see. it’s dopier than one of his signature cocky smiles.
“missed me? don’t worry, i tried to speed run it since i knew i had such a beautiful woman waiting for me back home.”
you placed a hand on your hip, scoffing at his pathetic attempts to flatter you. a snarky response was about to fall from your lips, but a series of painful coughs from the lanky male stopped you.
you recoil back to avoid his germs. “gross. are you sick?”
satoru sniffles, pointing his nose in the air. the same nose that was starting to turn pink from irritation. “i can’t get sick. it’s physically impossible.”
“don’t be stubborn, satoru. why didn’t you call for help?”
he huffs, eyes trained to the floor. “it’s too early. shoko’ll kill me for waking her up.”
sometimes you forget that satoru had an image to uphold. he was the great gojo satoru, after all.
but if you don’t take care of him, then who will? and despite your disdain at the thought of coddling his ego, it was only basic decency to take care of a fellow peer (or that was what you’d like to convince yourself).
silently, you place the back of your hand to his forehead. you’re not surprised by the warm sensation that you feel.
satoru’s hazy eyes watch as you move your hand from his forehead to his cheek.
you purse your lips in concern. with the way satoru was stubbornly denying that he wasn’t sick, you were nearly certain that he was indeed not fine. without warning, you grab the collar of his white t-shirt and pull him to your room.
“at least take me out to dinner before~”
“shut it.”
it wasn’t hard to get satoru to settle in your bed. in fact, he seemed giddy at the opportunity. while he was happy cuddling with your rilakkuma plushie, you came to two conclusions: either satoru had a wound from his mission that got infected, or he was simply sick.
knowing his pride, you lean towards the former.
the boy in question winces when you grab his shoulders to inspect the damage done to him. the sounds of furious pats and heavy breathing is the only thing you can hear over your rapidly beating heart as your hands run down his body to check for any injuries. satoru sucks in his breath when your hands cup his cheeks to loll his head to check for any damages done to that pretty face of his.
his body tensing up doesn’t go unnoticed by you. your imposing hands immediately retract, afraid of inflicting any more damage on him.
“where is the wound?!” your frantic eyes meet his blissed out ones.
satoru sighs happily, lazily grabbing your hands to bring back onto him, “there isn’t one, this just feels nice.”
your chest angrily puffs up before you shove him into your soft mattress. he grunts, but you know it didn’t hurt.
“[name]!” he whines, rubbing the arm that cushioned his fall.
you cross your arms angrily, “you scared me!”
gojo mimics your actions, crossing his arms while weakly glaring at you. his efforts to intimidate you prove futile as he shivers uncontrollably, resembling a newborn kitten.
sighing, you delve into your closet, emerging with an oversized black sweatshirt that you toss to him.
he catches it with ease, a chuckle escaping while he inspects the sweater, “i never took you for the type to wear this.”
“....that’s not mine.” you give a nod in the direction of the men’s sweater. the sparkle of amusement vanished from satoru's eyes, coinciding with his jaw dropping.
his grip on the dark sweatshirt tightened while his head darted back and forth from you to the clothing item. “then whose is it?!”
“suguru’s.”
you think that you’ve broken him when his face scrunches up in disgust. it’s laughable how his mouth had managed to stay wide open the entire time.
“sugu-suguru?!” he splutters. you slowly nod, careful not to make any sudden movements that could provoke him any further. “why– how– explain yourself!”
you cast an uneasy glance at the sweater, finding it challenging to summon any recollections of how you obtained it, especially with satoru's piercing cerulean eyes fixed on you. his scrutinizing stare has the power to reduce you into a puddle.
“well? go on,” he urges you when you stay silent.
“it’s nothing, really. i believe it was from that mission i had with suguru a while back. somewhere up north. i had packed light and suguru offered me his sweater.” you tap a finger on your chin to recall the memory. “i guess it just slipped my mind to return it.”
“slipped your mind, huh…” satoru sniffles before letting out a sneeze loud enough to wake up japan. you nearly jump out of your skin.
“suguru was just being friendly… and be quiet! yaga will have our heads if he finds you in the girls’ wing!” you warn the weary boy in front of you, prompting him to respond with a dramatic sigh.
“how mean!” he whines before making a pained expression. you quickly rush to his aid. when you make it to his bedside, satoru weakly hands you a clean tissue.
you stare at it blankly.
“be a darling and help me blow my nose?” he gestures for you to hold the tissue up for him. all you can hear are muffled whines when you shove him underneath your plush covers.
when your flurry of attacks ends, he cautiously lifts his head from beneath the sheets. to his surprise, a steaming bowl of bitter melon miso soup is presented to him. while the broth isn't your personal favorite, shoko appreciates its bold flavor, spurring your decision to prepare it the night prior. despite its bitter components, the concoction had a perfect track record of treating illnesses. you have your brown haired friend to thank.
perhaps it was cruel of you to take enjoyment while he eyes the bowl in horror. you know his sweet palate couldn’t handle it.
he looks up at you with big pleading eyes while shaking his head. you roll your eyes.
“c’mon, it won’t kill you.” the bowl inches closer to him by your doing. “please?”
satoru's pallid complexion contorts into a hesitant frown. "i’ll eat it…” he concedes reluctantly. however, his gaze lingers on the bowl with a mixture of uncertainty and reluctance. you respond with a hopeful smile, but it fades when he adds, "on two conditions."
“this is for your own health, not mine satoru.” you remind him.
“doesn’t it pain you to see me suffer?” he brings up, eyes glittering in the darkness.
you suck in a breath. “...not really.” lie.
“you wound me, love.” he clutches his shirt like he has been critically hit.
you bite your lip, tired of his theatrics. “what are the two conditions?”
just like that, gojo comes back to life.
“condition number one! you have to feed me.” he points one finger into the air, paired with an innocent smile. “and two: i want you to warm me up like that night in our first year.”
an unflattering appalled expression is cast over your face. no words leave your mouth for a good minute. “y-you’re disgusting. why are you the way you are?”
“love,” he sighs. “anyways, what kind of wife wouldn’t feed her husband while he’s dying?”
“satoru,” you warn. he was starting to babble nonsense again. “if i accept your conditions, will you shut up?” your eyes were starting to feel heavy. it was the middle of the night, after all.
he nods fervently.
carefully with the bowl of soup in hand, you gently squish yourself next to satoru on your full sized bed. the tight fit left you little room to move, forcing the two of you to nestle closely to each other. with a gentle maneuver, you rest your head on his chest. his arm slowly drapes itself protectively over your shoulder.
“your heart is beating awfully fast.” you whisper, tilting your head upward to take a glimpse of satoru’s feverish face. his breath hitches.
he takes a hand and holds your head back onto his chest to prevent your movement.
“shut it. i didn’t think you would actually accept my conditions.” he mumbles.
“don’t get used to it. this is another moment of weakness.”
you stir the spoon in the broth, basking in the silence of the night, save for satoru’s erratic heartbeat.
“this is very intimate isn’t it?” he gushes. “it’s almost like we’re married—”
“keep your side of the deal,” you remind him, lifting a spoonful of broth up to his mouth. satoru looks straight into your eyes as he opens his mouth to receive it.
his adam's apple bobs when he swallows, “i’m going to tell our grandkids that we were written in the stars.”
you shove another spoonful of soup into his mouth.
extra notes
satoru magically recovered from his fever the next morning.
his second condition (for you to warm him up like that night in your first year) refers to this fic from earlier on in the series.
satoru also made you promise to never accept another hoodie from suguru. if you needed one, satoru was more than willing to give you his! (you halfheartedly agree, only because he was acting all delirious because of his fever).
as of right now, there have only been three occasions where satoru has fallen asleep in your presence. he can testify that those were the best nights of sleep in his life.
shoko went into your room for a spare pair of stockings the next morning only to find you tucked into gojo’s chest. she chases him out of your room all while calling him a pervert . bless her heart.
There was a time when sadness and solitude went hand in hand for you.
Hiding your pain behind a smile, muting it behind laughs, ignoring it as you showed the world that you were happy despite the turmoil inside. It was only when you were alone and felt safe that you dealt with it.
You would crumble by the end of the day as soon as you were alone in your room. Your misery would come out as heavy sobs and difficult breaths as your tears soaked the pillows. The rest of the world seemed to cease to exist when you cried. You were alone. It was just you and your grief. Sometimes, it was only grief.
You were always worn down by the end of it, too tired to cry anymore despite needing to. It was the result of neglecting yourself, letting a smaller emotion snowball into something much worse because you waited until you couldn't pretend it didn't exist anymore to deal with it. It was far from efficient but you didn't know better because it was what you've always done.
But Satoru changed that.
Was it his six-eyes or something else that made him know with one glance over you that something wasn't right?
What made him gently take your hand in his and lead you away from the rest of the world that just seemed too much for you that day?
Why did he lead you to his room, a place you felt safe in, a space where it was just you two alone, to ask if you want a hug?
How did he know, from the way your smile dropped, your eyes watered, the trembling of your body, that yes, you did need a hug?
Who else but Satoru could simply wrap his arms around you and hold your head close to him and make your defences crumble and sob because you feel safe to?
There was no one else, but Satoru who had sat on his bed with you as you cried, whispering assuring words as he rubbed your back. He didn't let you worry about anything else for a second. He wanted Forget my shirt he would say, letting you cling onto his clothes as you sob. I'll get another one. Just let it out. Let it all out.
And you did. You cried in the arms of someone who you loved and cared for, who loved and cared for you back.
By the time your tears dried, you felt much better than you ever had after crying. You were tired, but not in the way that left you feeling numb. It was more of a physical exhaustion. Mentally and emotionally, you felt relief. You felt better.
Satoru gave you that time to recover. He pulled you onto his laps and gently wiped away all your tears as a peaceful quiet grew between the both of you. Your ear pressed against his chest, the la-dup, la-dup, la-dup of his heart soothed you. The warmth of his body he shared with you as he holds you close, arms secure yet gentle as if to say I'm not letting go. His tender kisses, the feeling of his lip on your shoulders that lingered even after he pulls away.
Best of all was the calm and gentle assurance you felt whenever you looked into his eyes. Blue. The colour you once associated with sadness and melancholy and pain and tears, was now a colour you found comfort and refuge because it was the colour of the eyes of someone who loved and cared for you.
"If you're feeling down," he tells you as he presses his lips on your forehead, those lips that could spend hours whispering comforting words to you, and never scowl once or grow tired while doing do. "Then I'm feeling down too. We always share each other's joys. Why should our pain be any different?"
And you two did. If you wanted to talk about it, he was all ears. He won't interrupt you, save for the hums and nods. He'll only start talking when he feels its right, making sure to not cut you off whenever you replied to him. He wanted you to feel heard, to know you're feeling are real, to assure you and ease you.
If you didn't, that was fine too. He was more than content to hold you as you got it out of your system. He just wanted to be there with you. He didn't want you to feel alone, especially after you've just been so vulnerable with him by crying in his arms. He wanted you to know he wasn't going anywhere.
He stayed with you until that ache in your heart eased and you gave him a small smile that said, I'm okay now and, Thank you for staying with me.
In response, Satoru would brush his lips against yours, a gesture that said back, For you? Always.
These days, sadness was not something you spent in solitude. It was something you shared with Satoru, until you felt better.
Being a good person is a choice. Don’t let people fool you into believing that truly good people never have bad thoughts, are never tempted by the easier path, by the low road, never mess up or act out selfishly. Never believe a person can be good without making a conscious effort.
Every single time you do something good, you’ve made a decision to make the world a little brighter.
Goodness is not an inherent trait, it is a choice. Keep making it! I see you, I’m proud of you, and I’m rooting for you!
