Dad Gojo - Blog Posts

turn back time, to the good old days

✢summary: a curse hits megumi and gojo reacts accordingly

✢tags: fushiguro megumi and gojo satoru, nobara pov

✢tw: child abandonment issues?

✢a/n: lets all take a break from whatever the fuck gege akutami has been recently writing. i hope I did dad gojo justice.

Nobara knows she’s fucked as soon as she sees Fushiguro disappear. Her eyes watch in mild horror as her classmate shrinks so quickly until all that is left of him is his uniform.

Itadori was the first to react, shouting a panicked “Fushiguro!” before running towards the pile of clothes.

The door to Shoko-san’s infirmary burst open, revealing an irritated Nobara, followed by Itadori who still had baby Fushiguro in his arms. The child had stopped crying after they passed school gates- maybe he recognized jujutsu tech?- and had settled for wet sniffles instead. Nobara has never seen Fushiguro so pathetic.

Shoko-san was, unsurprisingly, seated behind her desk with papers. She looked at them at the sound of her doors opening, but before she could even talk, Gojo-sensei appeared out of nowhere with his signature annoying grin. 

“Yoho~ how did the mission go? I’m sure it went well. I taught you everything you know!”

Nobara could feel her face morphing into an automatic frown. Things were hectic enough as it is, and she didn’t want this moron to ruin baby Fushiguro’s mood any further. They had just endured an hour-and-a-half car ride with a panicked Fushiguro, who insisted on being unconsolable and crying the entire ride back. She just came from a grueling mission. She was sure some of baby Fushiguro’s saliva, and snot landed in her somehow, and if this grandpa-looking sensei of hers made things even worse, she might explode.

“Eh? Megumi?” Gojo sensei asked in confusion after finally noticing the significantly smaller boy. Gojo Satoru’s gaze looks blankly at Itadori’s arms where a smaller Fushiguro is being carried.

As if on cue, Fushiguro breaks out in a full-on wail and cries louder than he ever did in the car.

Nobara already had her trusty hammer in hand, ready to smack the living hell out of her sensei, until she noticed Fushiguro desperately wiggling out of Itadori’s grasp. Both Nobara and Itadori share a confused look before her classmate puts baby Fushiguro down. 

As soon as his bare feet touched the cold, sterile floor of the infirmary, Nobara watched in awe as Fushiguro dashed away from them as quickly as he could. It was almost comical how fast he managed to get his tiny feet to run quickly. If this was a cartoon, a cloud of smoke would have been left in his trail. 

With his hands out open and eyes wet with a flood of tears, baby Fushiguro rushed to Gojo-sensei, who, to Nobara and Itadori’s surprise, was already squatting down for the boy with arms spread out. Gojo caught Fushiguro easily, one big hand immediately going behind Fushiguro’s head and the other on his back. 

“Why did you leave me?” The boy wails, crying on their sensei’s shoulder. “I woke up, and I d-didn’t know where I w-was! You promised never to do that! You promised!” 

Fushiguro’s voice cracks at the end of his accusation, and Gojo’s face crumples in a rare show of vulnerability. He shifts, both hands going under Fushiguro’s armpits as Gojo stands. Small, chubby fingers tug his blindfold down, and Gojo-sensei’s blue eyes stare almost lovingly at the crying child with concern. Fushiguro clings to him as if his life depended on it, his tiny fists clenching their sensei’s uniform. 

“You’re right, you’re right,” Gojo-sensei coos, swaying slightly from side to side. Gojo makes sure Fushiguro is looking at him before making a show of slapping his hand on his forehead. “Stupid Gojo-san, he forgot his most precious ‘Gumi! What am I going to do?”

Nobara’s eyes narrow in suspicion. Gojo-sensei seemed to have done everything with ease as their baby-fied classmate was now calming down in his arms. 

“I’m not precious to you at all, so stop calling me that!” Fushiguro seethes and pulls the angriest scowl he can muster. But then, with another quieter and sadder voice, he reminds Gojo of his previous accusation. “You left.”

“I didn’t leave you,” Gojo corrects him in a softer tone of voice. His hand reaches up to Fushiguro and smoothes out his spiky hair as the child looks at him with slight distrust. The small boy has stopped wailing. Nobara has never seen her sensei so tender. “Haven’t left you ever since I got you.”

Nobara blinks. Since he got- what is going on? She opens her mouth to speak but stops as a quiet voice asks Gojo a question.

“But you will?” Fushiguro asks with his pitch high, threatening another onslaught of tears.

Gojo shakes his head without hesitation. “No,” he insists.

Fushiguro looks at their sensei in distrust, internally debating if he should believe him. His blue eyes shine as he peeks through his lashes to look at Gojo’s unwavering gaze. He asks with a quiet and unsure voice, “Even when I’m bad?”

“Even then,” Gojo answers easily. Fushiguro’s shoulders visibly relax, and he lets himself melt on Gojo’s chest. The older sorcerer puts back a cheery tone as soon as he notices Fushiguro calms down. “Fellow sorcerers brought you back to me, right? And look!” He shifts Megumi towards Shoko-san’s direction. “Aunt Ieiri is here!”

A small smile appears on Shoko-san’s face as baby Fushiguro waves shyly embarrassed that she has seen him throw a tantrum. Nobara thinks it’s her first time seeing her smile. But then Shoko-san glances back at them, and the smile disappears.

Somehow, Nobara feels a little guilty. She knows she probably intruded in a scene meant for Gojo and Fushiguro…whatever they are. But it’s not like she had a choice! 

Shoko sighs. “Alright, you two,” she ushers them away with a few flicks of her wrist. “We’ll take it from here.”

Gojo-sensei’s head snaps in their direction, so engrossed with Fushiguro that he almost forgot Nobara and Itadori were still in the room. His blue eyes feel like a spotlight, piercing through them threateningly.

The air feels heavy and almost suffocating, and Nobara feels her shackles rise as her hand twitches for her hammer. It took her a while to realize that the pressure was Gojo-sensei’s cursed energy. Nobara’s instincts whisper at her to run. 

Behind her, Itadori reads the situation first and bows in a hurry. He is as likely ready to change out of his snot-filled uniform as she is as eager to escape their deranged sensei. “See you later, Gojo-sensei! Bye-bye Fushiguro!”

Itadori snatches Nobara’s hand just as she finishes her clumsy bow. As she lightly runs to her dorms, the thought of a fresh shower chases away any lingering thoughts of what happened.

-

Gojo feels as though he has traveled back in time. He is frozen in both shock and awe as Megumi, once a tall, lanky, and cranky teenager, has been reduced to a barely four-foot-tall child, his eyes streaming with tears at the sight of him.

As if on instinct, Gojo dropped down to his height- a very helpful tip he read from one of those parenting books he read in a panic after he realized he was the textbook definition of a teen dad- and opened his arms. 

He sees Megumi sprint, and Gojo has been in this situation a few times before to know that Megumi was about to launch him a rare hug. Not even a moment later, Megumi was all over him. His hands immediately wrap around the boy.

Gojo knows that he is acting on pure selfishness. He knows something is wrong. For one, Megumi is tiny, and second, his Six Eyes sense a lingering feel of foreign cursed energy. He knows he should be more concerned, checking if his students are alright, but Megumi is sobbing in his arms like he used to a decade ago. In his accumulated knowledge of him, Gojo knows that Megumi is a shy boy, and it takes a lot for him to openly demand his affection and comfort. Gojo is more than happy to deliver. 

He caresses Megumi’s hair, and Gojo ignores the way his heart sings. He hasn’t seen this Megumi in a long time, and the boy has long refused his affection. 

Before Gojo could ask him what was wrong, Megumi’s watery voice echoes throughout Ieiri’s infirmary. “Why did you leave me?” He cries, “I woke up, and I d-didn’t know where I w-was! You promised never to do that! You promised!”

Ah, Gojo thinks as he feels his heart ache. He knows what this is. Megumi has spent most of his early life witnessing too many people come and leave. If he was correct, which he always ways, Megumi has regressed back in age and memory. Gojo couldn’t help but wonder how he must have felt when he awoke with many unfamiliar people. He knows Megumi assumed he had left him then, just like everyone else. 

Gojo lifts Megumi with him as he stands, a hand going under his thighs to support the small boy. Megumi tugs down his blindfold, and Gojo lets him. He does not even realize he’s already swaying Megumi from side to side. His body still remembers how to soothe him.

“You’re right, you’re right,” Gojo says in an admonishing tone before dramatically slapping his forehead. “Stupid Gojo-san, he forgot his most precious ‘Gumi! What am I going to do?”

He does not mind playing the fool for Megumi’s state of mind. When he assumed guardianship over Megumi and his sister, Gojo thought of his role as a simple one. He is their benefactor, one that comes over on a rare weekend to leave money for the Fushiguros to sustain themselves. But one weekend turned into two, and Gojo found himself craving the noise and warmth of the Fushiguro household. 

“I’m not precious to you at all, so stop calling me that!”

Oh, how could he even comprehend what he meant to him? Has he forgotten how Gojo learned how to cook to make onigiri-shaped divine dogs for his daily bento? Has he forgotten the movie nights spent on the couch sandwiched between him and Tsumiki? Did he not remember those nights Megumi knocked on his door at night, scared to sleep in his room because his Tsumiki-nee-san was in camp? The animal band-aids? The glow-in-the-dark stickers stuck in his room ceiling?

Gojo watches as Megumi sniffs, eyes darting away from his gaze. His grip on Gojo’s uniform falters. “You left me.”

“I would never leave you,” he says. A memory intrudes his mind with a Megumi similar to this one in front of him. He was angry, his face red with rage, as he hit little fists, landing soft punches on Gojo’s stomach. Gojo didn’t mean to come home late. “Haven’t left you ever since I got you.”

Instead of being relieved, he could have felt Megumi’s heartbreak. He breathes shakily and asks in a tone that tries to conceal his panic and anger- “But you will?”

Gojo shakes his head without hesitation. “No,” he insists.

Fushiguro looks at him in distrust, internally debating whether to believe him. His blue eyes shine as he peeks through his lashes to look at Gojo’s unwavering gaze. He asks with a quiet and unsure voice, “Even when I’m bad?”

Gojo thinks of his almost weekly meetings with Megumi’s high school as he beats other students in a pulp. He thinks of Megumi stretching his arms out, curling his hands to fists, ready to resign himself to a certain death.

“Even then,” he whispers to the boy like it was their little secret. He makes his voice loud and cheery as Gojo exclaims his next words. “Fellow sorcerers brought you back to me, right? And look!” He shifts Megumi towards Shoko-san’s direction. “Aunt Ieiri is here!”

Megumi avoids her gaze and stares at her pristine white coat instead. He offers her a small wave, and Gojo watches as Ieiri gives a him gentle smile. 

A wave of appreciation rolls over him as he realizes that Megumi has as many memories of her as he does with him. Gojo feels so stupid when he thinks about the moments when he thought he was lonely. He had two people in this room who loved him as much as he did them. Then, for a brief moment, his brain scolds him for not remembering his precious little girl who loves him infinitely even when asleep. He hopes she’ll wake soon.

“Alright, you two. We’ll take it from here.”

Immediately, Gojo freezes in panic. His instinct sets his Infinity to engulf Megumu and Ieiri. His next thought was- how did they sneak up on me? Gojo panics as he realizes they have seen him cradling Megumi, consoling him with all the gentleness he could muster. They have witnessed his weakness. They have already taken one from him, and Gojo would be damned if anyone takes another child.

His Six Eyes snap at the two intruders, and it takes him—oh, it’s his students. And they are already half-running towards the door. 

As soon as the infirmary doors shut to a close, Gojo feels the heated gaze of his friend. 

“You didn’t have to scare them like that,” she scolds. “Now they’ll have more questions after Fushiguro’s back to normal.”

Gojo does feel a vague sense of guilt. He didn’t mean to have his students feel threatened by him. He was just caught unaware for the first time in a long time. It didn’t help that Megumi suddenly became smaller and more affectionate, reminding him of precious memories. His brain had thought there was a Fushiguro Toji-level threat like it does every time someone close comes to him without noticing.

“It’ll fade away in a few hours or days, by the way,” Shoko murmurs, her hands going for a cigarette. “He’ll be back to normal in a few. But you already knew that.”

Gojo slaps her hand before she even reaches a cigarette. Shoko takes one look at Megumi and sighs. She takes in the sight before her.

“Feeling sentimental?” She asks.

Gojo hugs Megumi a little tighter. He closes his eyes and lets himself hold the child. Gojo breathes in his scent and relishes the feeling of his child in his arms. He feels Megumi’s spiky hair softly poking his neck, his warmth; he faintly smells Megumi’s childhood shampoo. He feels Megumi squeeze back. “Let me have this.”

Teenage Megumi would never let him hug him with this much vulnerability, which was fine. Gojo loves teenage Megumi as much as he loves this child version of him, but he rarely asks for him anymore. It makes Gojo feel silly to reminisce like he’s past 50 years old when he’s just 27, but in his humble and correct opinion- he was a teenage dad. 

“Never do that again,” Megumi scolds him, voice a little muffled.  “I’ll hate you if you do. I’ll hate you. I will.” Each word spoken was more determined after the next, bringing another smile to Gojo’s face. They both know Megumi does not mean it. They both know Gojo would never leave him. Not willingly. 

lmk what you think! i'd love to hear comments, your thoughts and whatever this fic made you feel. i'd also appreciate constructive criticism <33

something something father son

Airy Spring

a/n: soooo.. fourth post. I honestly need og ideas. I’m trying so hard to think of things. But I’ll get there! My time is limited because of current events but I’ll be on it. Pls give me inspo im crying. Also! I need more moots. Enjoy ig. 🥀

content: fem view, pregnancy, dad gojo, and fluff!!!!!!

It came to no surprise. Your life was so different. By having a puffy stomach, aching feet, sharp back pains, and a little newborn that filled your ears; you were a new woman.

You remember the fateful afternoon that had you pacing back and forth as your hands clasped onto the long piece of plastic. The very item that made you shriek of happiness (?), anxiety (?), and shock.

You were no where near ready to confess to your husband, Satoru Gojo.

He was a busy man.

You both understood that. And the thought of somewhat impeding his plans made you bite your tongue.

In an attempt to continue the normalcy, you make dinner, turn on the lamps, anxiously do laundry, and try to take a warm bath— but as soon as your dear husband begins to rattle the front door— you pace inside the bathroom.

Oh.. how will he react? He’ll be happy, right? What about his schedule? Maybe he’s not hungry..

“I’m back! Guess who’s the best husband that brought kikufuku?? I am!”

Your hairs stick up at his exclamation, and the few droplets of cold sweat begin to build up on the tip of your nose.

Great.

His innocent teasing is always nerve wrecking.

Satoru’s steps get louder by the second, and when you open the bathroom door, he’s standing outside with a smile.

“You took a bath without me?? And here I was trying to rush back home to you” he says with a teasing pout, before wrapping his arms around you.

“I missed you, baby. Did you miss me?” he asks while pulling back to look at your water kissed face.

There was no way to hide from him. Every reaction and cold shoulder you gave him was a clear indicator that something was wrong. Whether it was him or the bad weather— oh, he didn’t know! He took every bad possibility and ran with it.

He loves his dear wife!

During dinner, he felt that enough was enough. No time was wasted and he asked.

“Are you mad at me? I’m sorry— I came as quick as possible.” Satoru pouts and drops his utensils in an attempt to give you his undivided attention.

You sigh and shake your head.

“I’m just tired.. I cleaned the whole house, ya know?”

“Well.. no one asks you to. I’ve offered a maid before.”

Your quick responses are what save you. At least for a bit.

Satoru’s short trips leave a balance of home time and work. These time intervals give you time on how to confess. Or figure out what to even do.

Before you know it, he’s back from another trip. His slender frame is wrapped around you in your large bed with his hand on your now plush hip. An obvious hint at your body’s accommodation.

“You’re so fluffy now.. you gaining?” he innocently asks as his nose buries itself into your scalp.

Satoru yelps at your pinch.

“Ow! What was that for!?”

“You’re a prick. I don’t know why I bother with you!”

He was just asking..

After fighting yourself, both mentally (anxiety) and physically (morning sickness), you break the news before Satoru steps out for his mission.

“‘Toru.. you’re not gonna eat breakfast?”

“Mm.. nah. My stomach hurts if I eat too early. Maybe I’ll come for dinner tomorrow, ‘kay?”

“Okay..” you mutter as his face leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“What’s with the sad face, hm?”

“I just.. don’t know how to tell you.”

“Tell me what..? You’re divorcing me or somethin’?”

“No.. it feels like I’m lying to you.”

He stays silent. You could basically feel his heartbeat. Stray and loud. He honestly would have loved that breakfast instead of feeling this tension you’ve unknowingly created.

“I’m pregnant. You. Me. We’re pregnant.”

Those passing moments between you both felt like eternal.

Satoru’s sleepy eyes widened and made him freeze.

“What? Ha.. ha-ha.. you’re-“

“I’m sorry.”

“Honey, what? Sorry? Wait, what?”

His words made you more confused. Was he surprised or disappointed?

You looked away. The sun’s rays were shining through the room from the window, but left no warmth to comfort you.

Satoru realized his unintended negligence of comforting you and he quickly wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m sorry, Satoru.”

“Stop saying that.. what are you sorry for?”

“We didn’t want this.. I’m sorry.”

He sighs. His hand cups your cheek and pulls you back to look directly into your eyes.

His blue pearls watched your reactions and counted your every freckle and lash without hesitation.

His wonderful wife had just confessed a life altering situation— and here he was stuttering like a high school boy.

“Who said that, hm? Just ‘cus we didn’t plan it, doesn’t mean I don’t want it. Unless.. you don’t want it?”

You shake your head and he quickly begins to rub your back and whisper sweet nothings into your ear.

It was a done deal.

You carry his sweet baby and get all the rest, take-out, midnight cravings, foot massages, and needy booty-calls you desire, even when he was away on missions.

But this was only on the condition of Satoru keeping his missions to a minimum.

And before you knew it— you’re back home with a baby girl.

Her snow kissed hair illuminated your room. Her hazy blue eyes that made you want to squish her face every time she opened her eyes to curiously watch you. It was all a dream— really, who knew you’d be a mother? And who knew you’d be such a daydream? Not your husband.

Oh, your husband was enamored with you both.

His lovely wife who birthed a whole carbon copy of him and the said carbon copy.

Satoru’s entire time at home was busy with his newborn baby girl.

Your husband would clean up and rub your feet while she slept or fed from you. No wasted time in this household.

Her sweet smell and delicate frame were appreciated by you both.

But especially Satoru. A deep contrast between him and his daughter. He was the strongest and had had to learn being the most delicate. His hands and sharp muscles that destroyed cursed were handling the tiny body that he now loved. Her small wails and yawns softened his sharp gaze. No detail went unnoticed by him. Your daughter’s birthmarks were all caught by Satoru, because he wanted to learn every single thing of your creation.

While being a changed woman, it didn’t feel like a complete new load— you had the help of your husband.

And the only thing you could wait, was for her to grow up.

Oh, how you both dreaded that!

But, as time moved on— it was obvious that your sweet girl was a change that you both needed.

Bad influence!!!

something something father son

@screampied diamond boy made me feel things

Canon version here