I Need To Mother Gojo Then Have Geto Mother Me

Labyrinth - Preview

Summary - As the God of Wine, Satoru Gojo has always had a passion for the grand parties he attends. He has a wonderful lifestyle consisting of getting horribly drunk at parties. But lately it has seem to dull.

When he finds a beautiful woman crying on the beaches of Naxos he decides to help her in an effort to save him from boredom. And soon a simple curiosity turns into something deeper.

Pairing - Dionysus!Satoru Gojo x Ariadne!Reader

Content - Fluff, angst, smut, Gojo being Gojo, drinking, mentions of murder

The pale beaches of Naxos are a contrast to the torn purple dress of the woman sitting in the sand. Her eyes are on the spot where the horizon kisses the sky. She looks out at the water longingly, like it was a lost loved one.

Satoru approaches carefully hoping to get a better look at this interesting mortal. He doesn’t usually interfere with the boring affairs of mortals like the others but he is rather bored so why not.

She looks back at him as he approaches, her eyes are rimmed with red and the sun shaped blush on her cheeks is smudged from crying.

“What is a beautiful woman like you crying on the beach?” He asks with a curious smile.

The woman looks down then back out at the sea, “My intended left me here.”

He hums in understanding and sits down next to her on the sand. Her reaction is very different from the fights he has seen over lovers in the heavens. Maybe the Gods are a petty bunch but she seems not the least bit angry.

How interesting.

your order? my heart | gojo satoru.

flirting came easy to waitress gojo satoru.. effortless, really. he could throw a wink at any woman, didn’t matter the age, and they’d all melt like he planned it. stroked his ego every time.

but you?

you were a different story. a breath of fresh air, a whole reset. before any other waitress could blink, he was halfway across the restaurant just to get to your table first.

he barely processed your order, half-listening, half-staring. your voice had that pull, light and warm, like it could talk someone out of a coma. your smile? intoxicating. and your eyes..

god, your eyes.

back in the kitchen, he slumped dramatically over the counter, forehead pressed against the cold surface. his notepad was a mess of half-written orders and little doodles that looked suspiciously like you.

“you’re embarrassing,” suguru muttered, squinting at the page.

“she’s literally heaven-sent,” satoru whined, one hand clutching his shirt.

and from that moment on, it was a mission. no one else was allowed to serve your table. didn’t matter how busy it got, if it was going to you, he was delivering it.

every time he showed up, there was a flirty comment ready.

“careful, it’s hot. like the person i’m serving it to.”

he winked, proud of himself, completely unaware that he was holding a frozen yogurt parfait.

you raised an eyebrow. he didn’t notice. too busy floating.

other times, he fumbled.

“i told the kitchen to make it nice ‘cause… you seem like someone who deserves nice things. not that the other customers don’t. just—forget it.”

at first, it was funny and cute. then it got a little…concerning.

he started overloading your table with random dishes, food you didn’t order, food no one at your table ordered. other customers were starting to complain.

it was too late when he had noticed, only when suguru pointed it out.

just as he was about to rush over, panicking, mentally rehearsing his apology and calling himself every name in the book, chef yaga stormed over, smacking him upside the head with a clean, loud thwack right in front of you.

“it’s our busiest night and you’re out here fucking around. i’m sorry about this idiot,” yaga sighed, shooting you and your friend an apologetic look.

you laughed a little, soft and kind.

“it’s okay,” you said, glancing at gojo with a smile that knocked the wind out of him. “he’s probably just overwhelmed.”

his grin twitched, and a flush crept up his ears. he leaned against the table like it was all part of the plan.

“yeah, you get it, angel. since i ruined your dinner, it’s only fair i take you out and—”

“—get back to work, gojo!”

So I am currently working on my Satosugu fix-it fic and watching the chapter count climb higher then crying over it.

Sorry for the inactivity long fic wise but I am currently working on like four wips at once right now lol

Me when I have to finish the fic I wanted to do in the first place:

I have been thinking about the dress Taylor Swift wore to the 2025 Grammys so have this drabble.

Satoru likes seeing you in blue. The color is beautiful on you (so is every color but he already knows that) and every time he sees you in it his heart beats out of his chest like he is seeing you for the first time.

So when you stepped into his view in a little blue dress, his heart stops. His six eyes are all on you and the dress you are wearing. The sloping neckline, the draped fabric on the left side of the skirt. But the most striking part was the small ‘S’ charm on your right thigh.

His hands twitch with the urge to touch every inch of you. Satoru crosses the room in quick strides to you. His arms circle you around you- pulling you into his chest.

“Do you like it?” You ask with a laugh at his sudden clingyness.

“Your beautiful baby.” He smiles down at you, “but it would look better on my floor.”

You scoff good naturedly and push him away. He doesn’t budge and nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck to smell your perfume.

“Marry me.” He says into your skin.

“We are already married Satoru.” You remind him.

“Marry me again.” Satoru counters you, his face out of your neck, his eyes locked on yours.

His brain melts as he sees the curve of your smile.

“As long as you don’t make it extravagant, I am not going to be put in that many layers again for a long time.” You relent and kiss him.

“We can go get divorced,” Satoru says and presses a quick peck to your lips, “then get married again.”

“Can we go on this date before we get divorced?” You ask.

“You drive a hard bargain!” He pouts.

“Yes, but you love me.” You laugh.

Satoru’s grin widens, “Yeah, I do don’t I?”

I keep staring at the Saint doc and it stares back at me, then nothing gets done 🫠

That post about death note being "everyone's first anime" (untrue statement) made me curious and now I want to gather data for science

Can you reblog this and tell me where are you from and what was your starter anime?

I love writing because I will stop to look something up to make sure it is historically accurate then I somehow end up scrolling tumblr for hours

Dirty little Secret - Setlist

Summary - On the first night of your band’s new tour everyone is excited for what the new tour will bring. After an incident on opening night you and Suguru get pulled into Satoru’s orbit but how will the three of you handle this new relationship?

And the scandal that is just around the corner.

Pairing - Guitarist!Geto x Singer!Reader x Fanboy!Gojo

Content - Fluff, Angst, smut, p i v sex, exhibitionism, oral (male and female), unhealthy cooping mechanisms (like drinking, smoking, drug use, etc.) trauma, depression, homophobia, misogyny, anxiety, secret relationship

A/N - Currently working on the first track!

Art- (Geto) @-to_Ofu, (Gojo) @-su2kuna on X

Divider- @enchanthings

Tracks

Track 1: Loser

Track 2: loading…

Track 3: loading…

Track 4: loading…

If you see my blog going through a bit of an identity crisis don’t worry about it! I’m working on expanding my masterlist and cleaning up my intro post!

Heaven is here- if you want it - Preview

Summary - Who knew that picking up that old book from the antique shop would lead to you accidentally summoning a demon? Not you.

Pairing - Demon!Ryomen Sukuna x reader

Content - Fluff, CRACK, smut, Sukuna’s wonderful personality, the curse of all archaeologists and historians to accidentally summon things they shouldn’t

The man now standing in your kitchen is tall, much taller than any regular human. He probably has about a head or two on you if you were standing on your toes. But that isn’t the only thing that is off about him. Two horns are on his head and twist back like a ram’s horns.

His red eyes look around your messy kitchen in confusion. He also looks somewhat disappointed and you can’t blame him. You were a poor college student and couldn’t afford a good apartment unless you sold your soul for it. But as he glares at it you feel a little offended. It may be a shitty kitchen, but it was your shitty kitchen.

Eventually his eyes settle on yours.

“What do you want from me?” His voice seems to boom in your kitchen like he was talking into a microphone.

“Who are you and how did you get into my apartment?” You counter his question with one of your own.

“You summoned me.” He tells you like you were stupid.

“I am pretty sure I didn’t-”

The man -demon? you can’t tell- groans and rubs his temples like you were the one inconveniencing him. After a second of you staring at him, he speaks again.

“Sweet lucifer.” He curses and joins you on the floor. “Let’s just get this over with.”