#it extended cut

[augustinewrites]

does gojo ever freak out or worry ab reader when she’s alone on missions? obviously she can handle herself & knows what she’s doing, but he gives the vibes that he’d be internally panicking 😭

“hey, welcome back!” gojo grins, quickly shoving a half melted spatula to the bottom of the trash can. 

“hi,” you murmur, tipping the bill of your cap down as you close the door behind you. odd. he doesn’t think he’s seen you wear a hat before. 

“how was it?” he asks, flicking off the stove and closing in to welcome you properly with a kiss. well, he attempts to. you immediately take a step back, avoiding his embrace. he definitely doesn’t remember a time you’ve ever done that.

“i’m all sweaty,” you tell him, toeing your boots off and heading straight toward the bedroom. you say hello to the kids before shutting the door, the lock clicking into place. 

“are you mad at me?” he asks as soon as he warps into the room.

“satoru!” you startle, staggering back into the door. “get out!”

“nope,” he hums, closing in on you. “we sleep in the same room and you know that i don’t respect boundaries.�� 

with that, he reaches over and pulls the baseball cap off your head. 

“satoru, please don’t freak out—”

he freaks out. 

he grabs your chin so you can’t turn away, inspecting the sutures lining your temple. “this is deep! are you okay? why were you hiding it from me?”

you swat his hand away, frowning. “i’m fine, and i wasn’t hiding it. i just didn’t want the kids to see. speaking of, did you guys eat dinner yet?”

“what grade curse was it?”

“special. i thought i smelled something burning—”

“you’re only grade one. why would they—”

“only grade one?” you repeat with a scoff. “don’t say it like that. you know the only reason i’m not special grade is because the zenin’s—”

“because the zenin’s are holding you back until you join them. they’re dicks, babe. that’s old news,” he finishes, tapping his foot impatiently. 

“listen,” you tell him, pinching the bridge of your nose. “i just didn’t get out of the way fast enough. it’s just a cut. i’ve had worse.” 

“well, next time they call you up for assignment, i’m coming with you,” he decides. “we’ll get a sitter for the kids and make it like a date night.”

“whoa,” you interrupt. “you’re inviting yourself on my assignments now? “do you think i’m not good enough?”

“well when you come home hurt, yeah!” 

he regrets it as soon as he says it. 

and he hates the way you’re looking at him. you’re hurt, and it shows. “wow. thanks for the vote of confidence.” 

“hey…”

he says your name, reaching for your hand, but you pull away, shaking your head.

_____

freshly showered and changed, you pull your robe on, exiting the bathroom. gojo’s sitting on the bed, waiting with his head in his hands.

“you know i think you’re more than capable,” he says quietly. “i wasn’t making a dig at your skill. you’re incredible.” 

“i know,” you hum, dumping your uniform into the basket. 

he looks up at you, apologetic. “but if anything happened to you, and you were really hurt…it would be my fault.”

“that’s not true,” you say quickly, sitting beside him. 

“it is,” he insists. “and i could never forgive myself, because i’m supposed to be the strongest.” 

(and what’s the point of being the strongest if he couldn’t protect the people he loved most?)

“satoru,” you murmur, smoothing a hand across his back. “you have such a big heart. i’m dating you because of your heart— well, mostly your abs but also your heart. ou already take on so much for everyone. and i need you to trust that i can’t take care of myself. i don’t want to be another burden to you.”

wordlessly, he takes your hand and presses it to his chest, so you can feel his heartbeat. 

“you are my whole heart. if i lost you and i could have stopped it, like i could’ve stopped—” he purses his lips, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “i just can’t lose you.” 

“and you won’t,” you promise, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “now let’s go have dinner.”

“ah. about that….”

_____

“alright, dinner’s served!”

you the kids exchange a look.

megumi leans close to you, whispering, “can we get sick from this?”

“go on,” satoru encourages, picking up his own sandwich. “it’s a spam sandwich! i used to eat these all the time before i met—”

“you’re really lucky you met her,” the twelve year old grumbles, peeling the bread back to look at the burnt piece of spam.

tsumiki, ever the people pleaser, takes a bite and chews very thoroughly before swallowing with great effort.

“um…the smoke added a nice hickory flavour to the spam.”

“okay, we’re getting pizza,” you decide, shooting your boyfriend an apologetic look.

[gigamuffin]

MASTER AND COMMANDER IS 20 TODAY!!

[foul-milk]

did Lewis just check George's ass?? 💀🤣

[buckbuckleybegins]

I’m starting to think there was something really fucking weird in those cameos like hypnotizing subliminal messages or something bc WHAT DO YOU MEAN YALL CRASHING OUT THIS HARD ABOUT A WHITE, RACIST, SEXIST, ABLEIST, TRUMP-SUPPORTER MAN THAT CAN’T ACT??????????!!)?!:!!!!/!/!

WHAT IS GOING ON???????

[augustinewrites]

I love your keeping up with the Fushiguros series! You write beautifully. I was wondering how Megumi and/or Gojo would react to reader being hit on. But reader doesn’t notice.

“which one is it?” gojo asks, resting megumi’s baseball bat on his shoulder. 

it’s no secret that gojo and megumi don’t agree on a lot of things. 

like, a lot of things. 

they don’t like the same foods, the same genre of movies, or the same style of clothes. they can never agree on what shows to watch in the morning or whether certain items are recyclable or not. 

but this is one front that they will always be united on.  

the boy scans the park, huffing as he points the offender out. “there.”

their target for this mission? male. mid to late twenties. single. a threat that must be eliminated at all costs.

he’s sitting on the same park bench that you and tsumiki are on, both of you laughing as he tells you a joke.

“does he always sit with you guys?” gojo asks, lifting his sunglasses to peer across the playground to where you are.

“yeah,” megumi confirms, glaring. 

gojo glances down at his own ten year old, touched that they’re actually on the same page for once in their lives. but he’s prompted to look back over when he hears your laugh once more, tensing when he sees the man reach across the back of the bench to touch your shoulder.

that’s his final straw.

“alright, here’s the plan,” he starts with the utmost seriousness, crouching down to the kid’s height. “we’re going to–”

“dig a hole in the field and bury him in it,” megumi finishes a little too decisively. 

“uh,” gojo laughs nervously, reconsidering whether horror movies are a good way to practice channeling cursed energy. he taps the baseball bat against his palm. “we’ll call that plan b. first we’re just gonna scare him a little. show him and everyone in this park what’ll happen if they try to make a move on what’s mine—”

megumi kicks his shin.

“ours, sorry.” 

so they move in. megumi takes two strides to match each of his, but they still look every part the intimidating sorcerer duo they’d grow to be one day. 

you see them coming right away, and gojo watches you cycle through emotions faster than tsumiki goes through strawberry milk. confusion, realization, and finally horror. 

“satoru,” you say, in that tone with that look on your face (the one that often precedes a lecture). 

he’s about to casually cut into the conversation when a little boy (the man’s son, he assumes) cuts in front of him, bashfully handing you a handful of dandelions. 

megumi doesn’t try to hide his disdain, scoffing under his breath about how they were just weeds. oh, gojo realizes as he glances down at the kid.

so he’s not the only one who’s jealous.

[augustinewrites]

what are reader’s thoughts about gojo’s black shirt look (similar to what we see in jjk 221) aka what does she think of that bod (＾▽＾)

afternoons were busy, in your experience. the school was awake and alive with energy, bodies moving to and fro as they worked through the day's tasks.

at this time, just after lunch, people typically stopped by your office. whether it was megumi stopping by for a reprieve from his larger than life friends, shoko coming to drag you out for a late lunch, or gojo coming to sprawl himself out on your couch.

so when the sun is high in the sky and no one has come to bother you, you're a little concerned.

when you inquire principal yaga about this, he says he'd last seen nanami headed towards the training grounds. naturally, that's the first place you go. surely he can help you round up your students and their other teacher.

when you arrive at the training grounds, you're surprised to see the first and second year students gathered there, including shoko, watching something just out of your periphery.

"what are you guys doing?" you ask, catching shoko's attention.

she simply gestures to the main area. "sight-seeing."

"sight-seeing?" you frown. "this is the training grounds."

"i know."

you follow her line of sight, curious to see what's gotten everyone's attention.

oh.

the summer breeze combined with the afternoon sun seems to have prompted nanami and gojo to shed a few layers of clothing as they sparred. nanami's abandoned his blazer, the sleeves of his blue dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, and the topmost buttons undone.

gojo's thrown his jacket aside, leaving him in a nicely fitted black t-shirt.

wordlessly, you lower yourself to sit next to shoko.

with his loose-fitting uniform, it was easy to forget how brawny your fiancé was. now you could see everything. broad shoulders tapering down to a trim waist and long legs.

he's handling himself in hand-to-hand combat against nanami with ease, footwork practiced and posture immaculate. his body is tight, muscular, rigid. the tension of his toned biceps just right as he swings at the blond. he smirks when it connects and the sorcerer is knocked backward a few steps. it's horribly attractive.

"hey," shoko interrupts your daydreaming when she nudges you. "did you need something?"

you're too busy tracking a drop of sweat rolling down the side of gojo's throat to recall. "i don't remember."

you can't really focus when he's panting like that, chest heaving and tongue darting out to glide across his bottom lip. he grunts with the effort of deflecting a hit, his muscles flexing as he maneuvers his torso to avoid a follow up. when his shirt rides up, you absolutely don't think about where that white trail of hair below his navel leads, heat pooling in your gut as--

"why aren't you both working?"

you both jump as if you'd been caught doing something illegal as principal yaga steps in front of you, arms crossed.

"sorry, sir," you apologize, bowing your head as your face heats up.

_____

gojo is equal parts confused and aroused when he steps into your office and you immediately lock the door behind him. this may or may not have been the beginning of a fantasy of his.

“noticed you oogling me earlier,” he smirks. then he pauses, thinking. “or is it ogling? am i saying it right?”

“satoru?”

“yeah babe?”

“shut up.”

he's half convinced this is a fantasy when you grab the front of his shirt and pull him close, hungrily pressing your lips to his.

he goes to lift them hem of his shirt up, but you stop him, muttering,

keep it on.

well, he thinks as you trail kisses down the column of his throat.

if you say so.

[samdeancrimespree]

ok so. thinking of that post about how what we see on the show is the censored version of the winchester gospel, the version that makes them look “sympathetic” ….. now i just wanna write some between-episode cases that are so fucked up chuck was like oof ok let’s not talk about that

[augustinewrites]

augustine!! how do u think the reader's father acts w the kids or what he thinks of the whole situation (a random thought sry 😭)

hi i LOVE this question sm

you’re picking through a crate of peaches in search of the perfect ones when someone says your name.

smiling at the familiar voice, you turn to see your father standing behind you.

“hi!” you gasp, moving in to give him a hug. he holds you tightly, a hand smoothing over your hair briefly before he holds you at an arms length, suddenly very serious as he looks you up and down.

“how are you?”

you’ve been expecting this. even now, your father is still your father. “good. i’ve been good.”

“that boy of yours is treating you well?”

“very well, i promise.” you look around, spotting him a few meters away with the kids, the three of them debating over which muffins to buy. “he’s over there, actually.”

you watch - a little nervous - as your father’s gaze drifts to megumi and tsumiki.

“those are toji’s…”

“yes,” you confirm nervously. “we’re their legal guardians. and before you say anything, no, satoru didn’t pressure me into helping him. we all make our own choices, and i chose this. chose them.”

you both watch as gojo loses the battle, reluctantly exchanging the box of chocolate chip muffins for carrot muffins. it makes you laugh, drawing his attention to the two of you. he raises a hand in greeting, staring straight at your father.

oddly, you sense that you’re missing something.

your father is silent for a few moments, the expression on his face a bit hard to read as he watches gojo and the kids. you have a feeling that he disapproves, that he thinks you should return home and—

“are you happy?”

the question catches you off guard. “what?”

“with them,” he repeats patiently, waiting. “are you happy?”

your answer comes naturally, like breathing. “yes.”

he hums, his question and your answer hanging between you two for a moment. you feel like a child again, craving nothing but your father’s approval and praise.

“good.” there’s a gentleness in your father’s smile that makes you feel safe and secure in your decision. “we should have dinner sometime. i would love the chance to properly meet my grandchildren.”