Look I Think Nanami Is Just As Handsome Gorgeous Wonderful Incredible As The Next Jjk Fan But Like. Y’all.

PLEASE for the love of the universe read anti-colonial science fiction and fantasy written from marginalized perspectives. Y’all (you know who you are) are killing me. To see people praise books about empire written exclusively by white women and then turn around and say you don’t know who Octavia Butler is or that you haven’t read any NK Jemisin or that Babel was too heavy-handed just kills me! I’m not saying you HAVE to enjoy specific books but there is such an obvious pattern here

Some of y’all love marginalized stories but you don’t give a fuck about marginalized creators and characters, and it shows. Like damn

Reblog if your blog is boopable-safe so you can get all the (probably new) achievements. I don’t care about notes I just want boops

People who are not afraid to text you 40 times in a row and don’t take it personally if you haven’t replied are literally the most valuable members of our society and should be recognized as such

am i not supposed to boop every post i interact with how does this work

Yeah I don't think I'll pick jjk up again. Not my thing...

feeling like writing smt silly ab a spaceship powered by dance with a crew.... and i'll involve disco and cowboys and laser guns somehow.....

can someone please change the fucking prophecy

𝗛𝗢𝗧 𝗠𝗢𝗠𝗦 𝗡𝗘𝗔𝗥 𝗠𝗘 *+:｡.｡

summary. jjk men falling for single moms. | wc. 2k+

cw/ tw. fem!reader, parenthood, oc, domestic fluff, mild amount of angst, friends to lovers, co-parenting, pining, slight suggestiveness with nanami's, pet names (ex. dove, sweetheart)

featuring. gojo, yuuji, sukuna, nanami

an. I'm really telling on myself rn, but I've been binging ghibli movies so I'm feeling soft, okay? also, this is a minstrel of what this fic used to be, but I rewrote it and it's basically a whole new thing and I never thought I'd put the words 'fluff' and 'sukuna' in the same post lmao, comments and reblogs are appreciated ༉‧₊˚.

𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 ༊*·˚

Being a single mom has its ups and downs, especially when it comes to dating. You can easily recount the times you sat across from a date who looked like they ate something sour after the mention of your daughter, how they paused, spine going stiff—never keen on the type of baggage that comes in small packages.

So it’s only natural to expect the same with Gojo when you tell him on the first date in the back of a coffee shop, wincing internally with a tight grip around your cup. You wait for the awkward laugh, the promise to call you later, even though they never do. 

But then he surprises you.

He smiles—that same one that filled your belly with butterflies the first time you ran into him in the elevator at work—gaze unexpectedly soft, and answers, “What’s her name?”

You take a sip of your coffee to distract yourself from that fluttery feeling in your chest. “Mai.”

Your heartbeat doesn’t slow for hours after that date; you admit you hadn’t expected him to take it in full stride.

Almost two years later, sometimes you still can’t believe it—how he fits so effortlessly in your life, that he’s shown you time and time again that he has no problem treating your daughter like his own.

He calls her princess; treats her like one, too. One day, you walk into the living room to find Mai putting clips in Satoru's hair and unicorn stickers on his face, letting her ramble about her day at daycare (because the afternoon reading circle is apparently very eventful for a bunch of four-year-olds).

On the days that he’s off work, you have to keep the fridge stocked with food, or else they’ll eat nothing but sweets all day. And when he does cook, he'll have a chair pushed up to the counter for Mai to see and help—though your kitchen is often left a total mess afterward.

It’s after dinner, Mai tucked into bed, his arms tucked around your waist while you scrub a pot, a thumb tracing your abdomen—sweetheart, what if we had another?—and you let yourself think about it. Can’t help it.

This time you won’t be alone in a delivery room, Satoru’s large hands comfortingly wrapped around yours before holding his newborn for the first time, one with Satoru’s smile and maybe your eyes. Another set of small feet running down the hall for cuddles in the morning… 

You reach down and cup his hand, despite it being covered in sudsy dishwater, though he doesn’t seem to care.

“I think…I think I’d like that.”

𝗬𝗨𝗨𝗝𝗜 ༊*·˚

He’s always been your best friend: since the day you fell off the swingset when you were six and after you found out you were pregnant and never heard anything back from the father. 

It's possibly the best and worst thing that could have happened to you. 

The best because he’s there for you until the twins come screaming into the world; it’s no surprise they’re just as drawn to his sunny personality as everyone else. Yuuji becomes a shadow at your side in the weeks after, becoming somewhat of a quasi-parent even though you never asked him to, which is why it’s the worst.

Those easy smiles are slowly replaced by the feeling of your heart trembling in your chest whenever you catch him hastily tripping up the stairs to the nursery to wake the twins from their nap. Or when he takes the three of you to the park for a picnic and spends the entire time staring at one of the sleeping little boys on your chest as if they’re doing cartwheels.

You try not to think about it too much unless you want to risk losing Yuuji, to crumble whatever solid foundation your friendship sits on. Plus, why would he want to settle with a single mom anyway?

You’ve seen the girls he’s dated, and none of them walk out of the house wearing a sweater covered in baby food stains, pretty, willowy girls who put a little more effort into their appearance than you have in months. 

And the sadder, more obvious answer is that there’s no way he feels the same about you—sweet, whole-hearted Yuuji who’s friendly to strangers and always willing to help wherever he’s needed. 

You’re not the exception.

There’s some truth to that, which rapidly disintegrates as the months go on. You can no longer ignore how Yuuji lights up whenever someone accidentally mistakes him for the twin’s father or mention how cute your family is.

It’s easy to imagine until you’re so wrapped up in thoughts that make you bite back a smile—of coming home to Yuuji napping with the twins on the couch, quiet evenings snuggled up under soft blankets on the couch, kissing him when he leaves for work in the morning—that you nearly miss what he says to the sweet old man who’s been giving Yuuji unsolicited parenting advice, “Maybe she’ll actually say yes when I ask her to marry me someday.”

He’s not looking at you when he says it, but you see how his smile reaches his eyes (soft as if he’s inserted himself into the same future you thought of), and for a moment, you allow yourself to hope.

𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗨𝗡𝗔 ༊*·˚

He’s never been the type to want kids of his own, and yet he couldn’t turn a blind eye when you call him nearly two months since that night at his brother’s birthday party—hazily remembering you telling him you’re one of Yuuj’s friends before he took you back to his place—to tell him you’re pregnant.

“You don’t have to be there. I just thought you should know,” you say wetly.

“Jesus—” he sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face. He doesn’t think the employee breakroom at the gym is the right place to have this conversation. “Listen, don’t cry. I’ll be there, alright?”

Sukuna at least thought he’d actually be with the person he has a kid with. Over the next four years, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

There’s a lot that’s undesirable about the situation, like the fact that every time he leaves his room, he always ends up stepping on Legos because you insist on buying Hana more and leave them at his place, or that he can't eat anything these days without a small hand reaching out for his food.

But the one thing that really makes his blood curdle is whenever he has Hana for the weekend, and she rambles through a mouthful of mac n’ cheese about how you and Yuuji took her to the park, with more stories about Yuuji this and Yuuji that.

He should be grateful his brother is such a doting uncle, yet he grinds his teeth the longer his daughter prattles on.

Out of everything, this is the one thing he chooses to find an issue with: high-school sweetheart Yuuji, pictures of him found in frames all over your house; helpful and supportive, perfectly polite, always-nice-to-be-around-Yuuji who everyone gravitated towards, even you, it seems.  

He tells himself it’ll go away eventually, that strange pit of jealousy festering in his chest like an open wound. It doesn’t.

Sukuna spends so much time thinking about it that he’s thoroughly annoyed by the time you stop by to pick up Hana for the week. 

“Did you guys have a nice weekend? You seem…” Of course, you’d pick up on his shitty mood. “Upset.”

“I’m fine,” he grumbles, hoping you’ll leave it alone.

You don’t.

“Listen, if this is about Friday, I told you Yuuji’s okay dropping her off.”

“I bet he is,” Sukuna sneers, shoving the last of Hana’s Legos into her bag.

You huff. “What is your problem?”

“Nothing, but I bet you’ll run back to Yuuji and tell him about it anyway.”

“Are you seriously jealous of your brother?”

He scoffs but doesn’t answer.

“If you want to be with me so badly, just say it.” You put your hands on your hips. “Go on, say it.”

In the end, he breaks first. Wrapping his hand around the back of your neck, he presses his mouth to yours, fingers flexing at your little gasp. When he breaks the kiss, panting a little, he says, “I want to be with you, and I want to raise my fucking kid with you. Happy?”

There’s a scandalized gasp, and he looks down to find Hana standing there with her sandals on the wrong feet, blinking up at him with round eyes. 

“Daddy, that’s a bad word.”

“Listen here, brat—ow.”

𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜 ༊*·˚

The first time he meets you, one of the associates for his company introduces you as his wife—a fresh-eyed college student who’s more concerned about staring at other women at the business function than the beautiful one on his arm—and he kindly shakes your hand, watching you give such devoted attention to a man undeserving of it.

What would it be like to be loved like that?

A few years have gone by when he sees you again, except this time, there’s no ring on your finger, and you’re in the middle of walking into his office for an interview with a little boy balanced on your hip.

“Sorry, my babysitter called in sick, and I couldn’t find a replacement in time—Oh.” It’s in that small moment between closing the door and hauling a diaper bug up your shoulder that you recognize him, too. “I didn’t realize you were the one doing the interview.”

He arches a brow. “No?”

“Sorry…again. I didn’t mean it like that, and I’m usually not this unprepared.” You set the toddler down on the floor and straighten out your skirt, giving him a shy, pretty smile.

Nanami swallows and gestures to the seat in front of his desk. “He can stay.”

While he asks you questions, your son—Haru, he learns—keeps busy with a coloring book that you give him, and before you leave after the interview, he silently proffers Nanami a sheet of paper filled with yellow and green crayon squiggles. 

He tacks it to the corkboard wall next to his desk.

When you start working as his office assistant, he never brings up the topic of your ex-husband. It’s obvious the man doesn’t care about his family, anyway—not when you show up most days looking worn out. 

It starts to burn in his chest, the way your eyes drop sometimes, the little reassuring nod he’ll catch you giving yourself after what must’ve been a rough morning. 

Nanami knows he’s in way over his head when he asks you out for coffee; how he’s surprised you say yes, which leads to more dates until he slowly finds that smile of warm devotion aimed in his direction.

Eventually, your things fill the empty spaces in his home, and the spare room in his house becomes a nursery. His once quiet mornings of reading the paper are now pleasantly disrupted by the smell of pancakes and Haru trying to climb into his lap to read with him. 

The first time Haru asks for Nanami after a nightmare—rubbing his wet eyes while standing near Nanami's side of the bed in his shark pajamas, sans one sock, until Nanami scoops him up and deposits him between you—he winces (because he doesn’t want it to seem like he’s taking something away from you) before he notices the soft smile curling your mouth. 

He can’t pretend to fully understand why you ever agreed to that first date when the odds weren’t terribly in his favor, but he has a long time to learn, and right now, he’s focused on other things.

"Quiet, dove,” he murmurs, kissing your temple. “You're going to wake the baby..." 

thank you for reading <3

The air is crisp today. The flowers may wilt in the coming weather. Adam makes himself busy picking some for you, ones he think will look pretty tangled in your hair. The knights snicker when they see the bouquet he has made, but they make no comments.

He goes to see you. He must see you.

You are not in the kitchen, which is odd. The ladies are working on food for a royal banquet that shall be held tonight. A noble family is visiting, hoping their son may be a suitor for the princess.

"Where is...?" Adam asks, his voice surprisingly soft. Mary glances at him and smiles.

"She is at the gates, I believe. She is meeting—"

She is not able to tell him. He is already gone.

He goes around the grounds to the front of the castle. There is a crowd, a carriage that noblemen are exiting. There are knights and servants busying themselves with their horses and supples. And then there is you, standing on the outskirts, your back to him. He is approaching you when you squeal with delight, picking up your skirt and running to the knights.

His heart drops when you jump into one of their arms.

He stares, feeling an ache in his chest as the man spins you in the air, the two of you laughing and smiling.

And then, an unquenchable rage builds.

"Look at you!" you say when the man sets you down. "You have grown so tall. And your beard," you marvel, touching his jaw.

"And look at you! You have grown so beautiful, Y/N!"

"Oh, hush!"

"I mean it. I am sure the men of the castle fight for the chance to speak to you. Constantine must be jealous!"

"Oh..." You pull away, smoothing your skirt. "Constantine... he is—"

A large hand finds the man's neck, holding tight.

"Adam!"

"I will kill you," he says, strangling the man, almost lifting him off the ground. "I will rip you piece by piece!"

"Adam, you unhand him this instant!" you yell, grabbing his forearm and pulling. "You let go of my brother right now!"

Adam falters, releasing the man after a moment. He gasps, stepping back, touching his throat. You rush to him.

"Bernard, are you alright?" you ask, worry in your tone as you touch his face. He nods and you sigh, turning to Adam, your face scrunched in a hideous scowl. You stomp toward him, slapping him across the face. "How dare you?! How dare you attack my brother as if he is an enemy?!"

"I... my lady, I did not know. I thought—"

"I do not care what you thought! You have no right to act like a cruel beast, you—"

"Y/N," Bernard grabs your shoulder, steadying you. "It is alright. I am fine." He looks to Adam, giving an uncertain smile. "You are quite strong, sir. I was not prepared."

"I..." He swallows, feeling foolish. "You are lady Y/N's brother?"

"Yes, sir." He holds out his hand, a peace offering. "I am Bernard, Y/N's eldest brother."

Adam blinks, taking the hand and shaking it.

"Eldest?"

"Eldest of eight, sir."

"Eight..." Adam looks at you. "I... I did not know you had brothers."

"Five, to be exact." Bernard pats your shoulder as you cross your arms. "Y/N here is the baby."

"The baby..." Adam clears his throat, bowing slightly. "I am sorry, sir. I did not know you were related."

"Tis alright, good sir. You were merely defending Constantine's honor!" Bernard smiles at you. "Tell me, sister, have you had children yet?"

You shift, staring at the ground.

"I have not. Sir Constantine... died in battle... before we could marry."

"Oh..." Bernard pulls you to his chest, holding you as you wrap your arms around him. "Oh, my dear sister, I am so sorry..."

"I have grieved," you say, patting his back before pulling away. Bernard flattens his mouth before looking back at Adam.

"Then... who are you, good sir?"

Adam swallows.

"Sir Adam Fischer, sir. I am a royal knight at this castle."

"Ah, I see." He shifts on his legs, pointing at the bouquet in his hands. "And the flowers? Are they yours, or for your lady?"

"They..." Adam looks at you, holding the flowers tighter. "They are for..."

Bernard looks between the two of you and smiles.

"For my sister? How kind of you, sir!" He pats your shoulder as you turn away. "Y/N, look at the flowers he has picked for you."

"I will not accept them," you snarl, hands clasping at your apron.

"Sister, do not be so cold. They are a gift." Bernard beckons Adam to hand him the flowers. When he does so, Bernard holds them in front of your face, rubbing your back. "Look! Tis a lovely bouquet. Please, take them and smile."

You hesitate, eventually taking the flowers from your brother and bringing them close.

"Very good. Now, you must give me a tour of your castle. Show me all the best hiding spots." He jostles your shoulders and you huff out a laugh. He holds out his arm and you take it, beginning to walk with him. Bernard looks back to Adam and smiles. "We shall speak later, good sir!"

Adam watches the two of you walk away, his heart heavy.

At the dining hall in the evening, Bernard waves Adam to his table. He pats the seat beside him.

"I saved you a chair, good sir!"

"Thank you," Adam says, taking his seat. They gather food in silence as the room bustles around them.

"I... I am sorry for being so foolish today, sir," Adam says, hanging his head. "I... I was worried that..."

"You thought my sister was hugging a possible suitor, did you not?" he asks, looking at Adam. He glances at Bernard and nods. Bernard barks out a laugh. "So silly. But I would have done the same when I was younger with my wife. I accept your apology."

"Thank you, sir."

"You fancy her?" he asks, and Adam nods again. "I can tell. You are not subtle, good sir."

"I... I simply cannot help myself."

"What do you like of her?"

"She..." He sighs, resting his cheek in his hand. "She is beautiful. She is kind and sweet, and smart, and hard working. I admire her."

"There are many good reasons to like my sister." He shovels food into his mouth. "Are you courting her?"

"I am trying, sir." Bernard laughs.

"She is as stubborn as a mule at times. She will come to you if you practice patience."

Adam twists his mouth, thinking. Bernard watches him as he takes a bite of bread.

"She spoke of you today." Adam's eyes widen.

"She did?"

"Yes." He takes a sip of beer. "She said you were strong, which I have already experienced. She said you are brash and crude, and that you do not know manners at times."

Adam pokes his food with his fork, unable to find his appetite.

"She likes you a great deal."

Adam stops, looking at Bernard who is smiling into the distance.

"How can you tell, sir?"

"She is easy to read to me, always has. She tries to hide her feelings, but she is not always good at it." He scratches at his beard. "She was very careful with the flowers you gave. She touched them a great deal. She did not stop me when I put one of them behind her ear."

Adam hums, beginning to eat.

"I only ask that you treat her kindly. She deserves a good husband who will provide for her."

"I want to give her everything," he says, grabbing a piece of bread. He looks up at Bernard, who is smiling at him.

"You are a good man. I think you will suit her well."

Adam goes to the kitchen after dinner to apologize to you, but you are not there. He sees the bouquet he picked for you, sitting on the kitchen table, in a vase with water.

He feels his heart swell.