#handle with tongs

[howlingdemon13]

Long time no doodle. While preping to get my cosplay done (minus a few props), I figured I'd also do a very rough sketch of my clonesona. Does she have a name? No. Does she cause problems? You bet.

I officially see the show again in two months and it'll probably be the last time I go, so I'm riding this hype train for as long as I can.

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

TG: guyce look

GT: Me after smoking half a bowl and a bourbon on a weeknight.

TG: me aftr t8king yak tranqs in a verlin warehouse

TG: *berlin

TT: You need to change your lifestyle before you pass away.

[ellennieel]

He xuan as eris reference 'cause they're sexy and i'm bisexual

[deakwithit]

i cant enjoy a media without making one of them autistic bc im autistic and need to project onto my favorite characters so i stop hating mysefl. mike nesmith autism :/

[basslinegrave]

need more of whatever the fuck this is!!

[selfproclaimedunicorn]

Went through a small box if really old kitchen supplies I think might have been my nana's because I haven't had the motivation to look through it till now. Apparently, I have owned canning funnels & a jar grabber for water canning for 7 years now & simply not known this.

I guess I was destined to want to do this 🤷🏻‍♀️

[erwinw]

Understanding Crucible Tongs

Crucible tongs are specialized tools designed for handling hot crucibles, which are containers used for heating substances to very high temperatures in a laboratory setting. These tongs are an essential piece of equipment in various scientific and industrial applications where precise temperature control and safety are paramount. Design and Material Crucible tongs are typically made…

[yueyimold]

3 shot plastic nippers rubber grips mold

China bi mold maker, offer co injection diagonal cutter rubber grips, 3 shot plastic nippers handle, multi color drawn tongs plastic handle, biocolor linesman pliers grips hand

[nikkashidashipper]

ive been having just an atrocious time falling asleep and sleeping can you tell by the reblog sprees happening at nearly the same time every day/night for the past two weeks

[grillpartshub-blog]

Rock Guitar Style Heavy Duty Stainless Steel 2-Piece Barbecue Tool Set – Spatula & Tongs with Wooden Handle

Rock guitar style, perfect gift for every music loving BBQ enthusiast. Durable, rust-resistant, stainless steel construction.The width of the spatula end (10cm) makes it easy to flip any burger or BBQ ribs. Long handle keeps hands safely away from grill. Smooth wooden handle.Ergonomic design,provides a comfortable grip For More Details

[mollyrolls]

an excellent video btw heavily recommended

you know you’re stoned out of your gd mind when you realize you’ve watched 30 min of “pov 4 hours of barista shift (compilation)” from the thumbnail auto play on youtube. not even clicked the video. just watched it in the tiny vertical snippet

[xoluvx]

cowgirl; b.eilish

[▸] cowgirl by nicki minaj smut

"save a horse. ride a cowgirl, right?" you whispered in her ear, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. the cup in your hand was empty, but your craving for her was filled to the brim. you needed her. you needed her bad.

when she sauntered into the party with that costume, you hadn't expected to have such a visceral reaction. your eyes locked on the cute strawberry blonde cowgirl. tracking her like a predator did its prey. you just knew you had to have her.

with a few drinks in your system, you found your bodies orbiting around each other until you were innocently conversing. teasingly complimenting her costume. boldly wrapping an arm around her shoulder whispering such daring things that had her blushing.

she'd let the words sink in as she bit her lip curling her arm around your waist. her fingers bunched the fabric of your costume causing the dress to ride up. you felt a breeze brush along the back of your thighs and shivered leaning closer to her.

she'd taken off her cowgirl hat, placing it on your head to which you'd scrunched your nose and giggled. the act so minuscule yet so meaningful. she was flirting back.

it'd felt like an eternity. sexual tension building over an insane amount of torturous hours. it all amounted to your bodies stumbling into her room. her cowgirl hat still on your head. her hands gripping your hips. your arms wrapped around her neck. kissing hungrily and desperately. when her thigh brushed between your legs, you moaned clinging to the collar of her shirt.

"is that your gun or are you just happy to see me?" you teased in a hushed voice, but breathing heavily from the heated make out session you'd just endured. billie smiled and cupped your face bringing you in for another kiss as your hand traveled down to her holster. your fingers wrapped around the pistol's handle pulling it out as you backed away from the kiss with a devious smile.

you ran the muzzle along her cheek. the cold metal sent shivers down her spine. she absentmindedly opened her mouth. the pistol so phallic as her plump lips parted. you were amazed. so enamored you wanted to devour her. you wanted to ride 'til you couldn't feel your legs. 'til the only name you remembered was hers.

right now you were enjoying stripping away every little piece of the costume she'd so meticulously picked out.

you let go of the fake pistol and it fell on the floor with a loud thud as you reached for the collar of her shirt pulling her in for another kiss. it was sloppy, desperate, and hot as your tongues tussled. her fingers gripped your ass pulling you closer until your chests were rising and falling in sync.

you worked the buttons of her blouse. whimpering when you struggled to undo them. sensing your frustration, she replaced your fingers with hers pulling harshly on the fabric until you heard the thread rip; buttons popping off the shirt. you gasped with amazement and your mouth hung open as you made eye contact. a devilish look plastered on her face.

though she'd been of assistance, she was still letting you take control. you eagerly hooked your thumbs in her holster. it hung low on her hips. you had to have been a complete fool to not think that was the hottest thing ever. her slim waist and big tits in a pretty lacy bra. her leg between your thighs. your hips swaying as you pulled her closer by her belt loops. it was all so fucking hot.

your fingers fumbled with the buckle of her holster and she came to your rescue once again. fingers working it quickly letting it fall on the floor near the fake pistol. your fingers busied themselves with her belt. so many fucking layers for such an impatient person like yourself. you'd wanted to take your time, but as you were nearing her naked frame you were eager for more.

when the belt came undone, your fingers shakily unbuttoned her pants. lips connecting with hers just for the sake of touching. she cupped your face as your lips hung open and her tongue roamed every corner of your mouth. you tugged on her pants, coming down with them until you were on your knees.

you looked up at her doe-eyed, fingers hooking in her thong pulling them down her legs. your mouth hung open. practically drooling. she peeled off her shirt letting it fall with the rest of her costume before reaching around her back to unhook her bra. when her breasts broke free a small gasp escaped your lips and you tugged at her thong almost tripping her.

she ordered you to get up as she completely broke free of her costume before disappearing for a few seconds. when she returned, the strap hung from her body and her natural hair cascaded down her shoulders. you fisted the fabric of your dress feeling very much overdressed and underfucked.

"strip," billie instructed motioning to your clothes. you tugged at the zipper on the side of your body letting the dress fall and pool at your feet. the only thing that clung to your body was your underwear, but those too were instructed to be removed by billie who was now sitting at the edge of the bed. you reached for the cowgirl hat you were still wearing, but she held her hand up.

"keep it on," she commanded in a raspy voice.

"and show me how you ride," she teased motioning towards her lap as your eyelids fluttered, completely stunned. she was in total control, yet made you feel like you were the one calling the shots. you approached her slowly. knees sinking into the mattress at either side of her body.

she held the fake dick as you slid onto it. face contorting with pleasure as she stretched you so deliciously. your lips parted as you looked into her eyes. pussy swallowing her whole as you planted your ass on her lap. cock erect against your cervix. you sat for a few seconds adjusting.

when you started swaying your body, billie snarled and leaned back placing a hand behind her head to admire the view. she watched the way you moved so seductively. selfishly swaying for your pleasure. she placed one hand on your hip. it lived there and burned from the touch of your scorching skin as you moved back and forth in an enchanting dance.

you leaned forward placing your hands under her breasts as you lifted your ass each time you swayed. the new movement hit a place so yummy you were biting your lip so hard you were on the verge of drawing blood. you were practically bouncing on her cock and she grunted each time your ass landed on her lap until you were a whimpering mess. you hung your head low as your nails dug into her skin.

her hands cupped your ass. they moved with the beat of your bounces until you were sitting up again. lips parted beautifully as the softest yet sexiest sounds escaped your body. you rutted your hips against hers, her cock rubbing so gloriously on your cervix.

you were so fucking close you could hardly keep your eyes open. when you tossed your head back in pleasure the cowgirl hat nearly slid off. you placed a hand on top of your head holding the hat in place before looking down at her.

her eyes were wild. she was biting her lip. she looked flushed. cheeks pink as her hair tangled under the weight of your heaving bodies. you clung to the cowgirl hat swaying faster. bouncing harder. moaning louder. maintaining eye contact with billie who had since captured a picture of the scene in her mind to store for later.

just pretty girl riding her into oblivion.

diaween 2024 🧡

[wileys-russo]

Lia wälti, "if you don't sit down and relax right now i will tie you to the bed", living room

perfect grade II l.wälti

"lia? i'm back!" you sung out, arms ladden with groceries as you kicked the door closed and winced at the sound of the slam, hurrying to the kitchen as you felt one of the paper bag handles begin to rip.

"liebling?" you yelled as you placed the bags down on the counter and could finally exhale in relief. though you frowned not getting a response, a quick check of the living room showing the movie you'd left her watching still playing but the swiss woman who was once laid on the couch no longer there.

another check of both the bedroom and the guest bedroom turned office came up empty, a hum leaving your lips in particular at the empty office.

you'd sat by and supported your girlfriend through her studies all year, and you knew tomorrow her final grades for the term came out and all week she had been a slightly insufferable ball of stress.

so much so that with some not so gentle pressure from your mutual friends and team who lia had been snapping at all week, you'd forced her into a self care day and had been attempting to remove any and all stresses from the environment of your shared home.

that started first and foremost with you taking both her phone and laptop which had been locked away in your car all day, keys hidden and lia voicing her protests all morning but you hadn't backed down.

finally with a few kisses and a promise to make whatever she wanted for lunch and dinner and clean up afterwards so she didn't need to lift a finger, she'd begrudgingly leaned into things and began to settle.

so much so that you'd left her to her own devices for a mere forty five minutes as you ducked off to the store, but now you were beginning to wonder if that was really the right call as room after room came up empty.

then finally, you found her, a sigh of relief and roll of your eyes at the sight of her.

"lia!" you called out with a chuckle, hovering in the back door as you watched her bend down with her beloved tongs, stuffing away the dead and dying leaves of an almost finished autumn.

"lia!" you yelled a little louder, her head turning and face lighting up as she pulled out one of her airpods and gave you an adorable wave. "you are back!" she cheered and you melted seeing the smile on her face as you nodded.

"and you are not relaxing." you laughed, crossing your arms as the midfielder stood and waved off your statement. "this is relaxing for me schatz." lia grinned cheekily as you hummed and raised an eyebrow.

"no, this stresses you out!" you challenged, having always found her affinity for a near immaculate back garden both endearing and a little concerning. "do i look stressed?" lia wiggled her eyebrows and snapped her tongs at you as you passed her.

"so this does not stress you out, this is relaxing for you? self care?" you questioned, lia freezing as you extended your arm upwards, hand wrapping around a branch and a slight smile on your lips.

"yes. what are you doing?" "nothing, just stretching." you yanked downward on the branch causing lia to inhale sharply and dozens of withering leaves to rain down, your girlfriends eye twitching.

"what is wrong baby? i thought you were relaxed." you called out, another yank and more leaves raining down as lia mumbled something and you watched the grip she had on her tongs tighten, eyes darting from leaf to leaf littering the ground between the two of you.

"see? this does not relax you lia. get back inside!" you laughed, pointing back into the house as the swiss woman scoffed and snapped her tongs at you, bending down again.

"inside wälti, now!" you marched on over to her, snatching her tongs as a weird squeak left her mouth and you hid them behind your back and out of her reach.

the brunette muttering in german how stubborn you were you sighed in relief when none the less she stood up and retreated back inside with one last longing look over her shoulder to her beloved garden as you closed the back door.

"on the sofa, go!" you pointed as the girl huffed but stomped away, and you heard her begin to rewind the film as you returned to the kitchen and hurried to put away your groceries.

however one little squeak of a floorboard had your head spinning and lia cursed as you appeared, catching her with a hand on the backdoor and a guilty smile in her features.

"just ten minutes?" "no lia, today is supposed to be stress free!" "then why do you seem so stressed liebling?" lia teased, a sharp look having her give up with a sigh, retreating back to the living room.

"if you don't sit down and relax i will tie you to the bed!" you yelled after her in warning from the kitchen, tensing up in surprise as a few seconds later arms wound around your torso and a nose tucked itself into your neck.

"god you are like a cat." you muttered at how silently she'd managed to sneak inside, a hum against your skin making you cringe as her hands snuck up the inside of your hoodie and a few gentle kisses trailed up your jaw.

"you know there are other ways to work out stress." "are there?" "mmm i can think of some." you felt her smile against you, hands settling on your hips and a few more strategically placed kisses before you spun around and gave in, your lips meeting hers as you exhaled contently into her mouth.

"so tying me to the bed...was that a threat or a promise?"

[chosok-amo]

FIVE AND ONE DIFFERENT WAYS TO SAY I LOVE YOU : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

your boyfriends are perfect in every sense, flawless in the ways that matter. they possess every one of the five love languages and master each one effortlessly. whether it’s the tender touch of reassurance, words that lift you higher, gifts that show how much they care, acts of service that make your life smoother, or simply being there when you need them, they never fail to make you feel cherished.

wc. | masterlist ( art © artist )

have you ever thought that your boyfriends were anything less than perfect? never. the idea doesn’t even cross your mind. they are perfect in every sense, flawless in the ways that matter. they possess every one of the five love languages and master each one effortlessly. whether it’s the tender touch of reassurance, words that lift you higher, gifts that show how much they care, acts of service that make your life smoother, or simply being there when you need them, they never fail to make you feel cherished.

they know how to make you feel understood, valued, and adored, always reminding you that you deserve nothing less than the very best. there’s never a moment of doubt with them—they’re the definition of love that keeps you whole.

THE ACT OF SERVICES

being their girlfriend means you never lift a finger—never. you never hold anything except their hands, and you never do anything they could do for you. they won’t let you. every little task, every minor thing is always handled by them before you even get the chance.

like right now, the three of you are out on a date, walking side by side in the mall. gojo’s carrying your bag in one hand, while his other hand is wrapped around yours, holding it securely. on your other side, geto’s carrying your boba, his thumb softly grazing the back of your hand as he holds it gently in his. it’s like they have this unspoken rule between them—never let you carry a thing, except their hands.

later, you’re sitting together, about to eat dinner. after some back and forth, you all decided on bbq— more likely you decided and they follow along. the grill is set, and you’re all sitting in a cozy circle, about to dig in. as the aroma of the sizzling meat fills the air, you decide you want to help and reach out for the tongs.

but before you can even touch them, gojo’s hand is there, stopping you. he gives you that familiar grin, teasing but firm. “nope,” he says, leaning in a little closer, “what do you think you are doing?”

geto, with that gentle smile of his, adds, “you're cute to think we let you do anything when we are here,” his voice, laced with a hint of amusement, is a mix of soothing and commanding, reminding you that your place is to be pampered, pampered, pampered.

gojo, not one to be outdone, chimes in, “and you're even cuter to think we'd let you burn your pretty little hands,” he says it with a smirk, as if scolding you, like you're a small child attempting to touch a hot stove. he's enjoying this, the power of being in control, the thrill of taking care of you. “sit back and relax, princess,” he tells you, patting your head endearingly.

“fine,” you pout, but deep down you know there's no winning against them. it’s their thing—taking care of you, making sure you don’t lift a finger. so you let them, reluctantly sinking back into your seat, your hand still laced with gojo’s as he pats your head again, this time with a little more affection.

instead of arguing, you reach for the complimentary ice cream the restaurant brought over. as geto tends to the grill and gojo watches with a satisfied grin, you take a bite of the cold, sweet treat, savoring the way it melts on your tongue. you still pout, though, glancing over at them from time to time with an exaggerated sulk. but they know you too well—the pout is more for show than anything.

gojo and geto exchange knowing looks, amused by your exaggerated sulk, fully aware that it is a performance. gojo can't help but chuckle lightly, his hand on your head moving to gently ruffle your hair.

geto turns to you with a smile, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction at the sight of your feigned annoyance. “aren’t you just the cutest when you pout like that?” he teases, his voice dripping with playful affection.

the corners of your lips twitch, and before you know it, a small laugh escapes. your sulky act crumbles as you look between the two of them, their smug expressions making it impossible to keep up the facade. “oh, stop,” you mutter, though you’re laughing now, shaking your head a little at how well they’ve played you.

at the same time, gojo places a perfectly grilled piece of meat on your plate, having just checked to make sure it’s cooked through. “there you go, princess,” he says with a grin, clearly pleased with himself.

geto grins, watching the transformation of your expression with a sense of accomplishment. “admit it,” he teases, his tone playful, “you love it when we take care of you.”

gojo, his hand still on your head, pats it lightly. “of course she does,” he chimes in, his voice cocky, “who wouldn’t enjoy being pampered like a princess?” he puts down more meat on your plate, his gaze flickering between the food and your face, making sure you have everything you need.

the three of you are eating and talking happily, the atmosphere light and filled with warmth. geto and gojo handle the grilling, each of them focused on making sure the food is cooked just right while you sit still, not having to lift a finger—just looking pretty as always. they wouldn’t have it any other way. it’s their thing, after all, making sure you’re completely taken care of.

as you pick at the food in front of you, your attention shifts to one of the dishes that looks tempting, but before you can even think of reaching for it, geto stops you. “baby, don’t eat this, okay? it’s too spicy for you,” he says softly, gently pushing the dish aside so you don’t accidentally take a bite.

he gives you that soft smile, the one that shows how much he’s paying attention, making sure everything is perfect for you. “don’t want you burning your tongue,” he adds with a wink.

you glance up at him, a little surprised but not really. they always know your limits, sometimes even better than you do. with a small nod, you give in, leaning back and letting them continue taking care of everything, a soft smile playing on your lips. “alright,” you say, feeling more spoiled than ever as you biting the edge of your chopsticks and trying to hide your smile and your shyness. it's never getting easier, never, when they spoil you rotten and look and talk to you with their soft voice and soft smile.

gojo leans back, his eyes drifting over the table, taking in the sight of the food, the chopsticks, your hands, the expression on your face. he loves to see you like this, sitting back while he and geto do everything for you.

he reaches over, gently tapping your cheek with a chopstick. “hey,” he grins, “stop biting your chopsticks. you’re gonna ruin your pretty little teeth.” he teases you affectionately, his eyes sparkling with humor.

geto turns to you as well, noticing how you’re trying to hide your shyness behind your bite on the chopsticks. he chuckles softly, but his smile is warm, and he can’t help but adore this side of you.

“cute little thing,” he murmurs, his voice carrying a warm, protective tone. “we’re just trying to look after you, princess.” he reaches over and runs his knuckles lightly over your cheek in a tender gesture, his touch both soothing and possessive.

PHYSICAL TOUCH

when you say your boyfriends are clingy, it’s not an exaggeration. they are very clingy. they always find an excuse to hold you, touch you, kiss you—anything for them to feel your skin on theirs. it's like they're constantly hungry for your touch, never getting enough. their hands always seem to find you, whether it's casual or affectionate, always searching for that connection.

like right now, the three of you are watching a movie together. you’re laying between them, your focus on the screen, enjoying the moment. but then, you start to feel it—small, subtle movements. their hands, slowly but surely, inching closer to you. they’re moving so cautiously, as if they’re trying not to let you notice.

gojo’s hand grazes your arm, his touch feather-light, tracing gentle lines up and down. on your other side, geto’s hand rests on your thigh, his thumb making soft, lazy circles against your skin. both of them are acting like they’re trying to be sneaky, but the warmth of their touch is unmistakable. it’s always like this with them, finding reasons to be closer, even when you’re already together.

they don’t say a word, their attention seemingly still on the movie, but you know better. you can feel their need to be close, their desire to be connected with you in every possible way. and honestly, you don’t mind. their constant touch is something you’ve come to love, even if you pretend not to notice. it’s just the way they are—always hungry for your presence.

“stop it,” you suddenly said without taking your eyes off the screen.

at your words, both gojo and geto freeze, their movements halted. they hadn’t expected you to notice their subtle and stealthy advances, and now they’re caught red handed.

gojo is the first to recover, a smirk appearing on his face. “stop what?” he asks innocently, his hand still resting on your arm, his touch light and warm.

geto gives a soft huff, his fingers still tracing patterns on your thigh. he’d been so close to wrapping his arm around you when you spoke, and now he’s pouting a little.

“we were just enjoying the movie,” gojo says playfully, his smirk widening. he’s not done yet, not by a long shot. he moves his hand a little, his fingers dancing over your skin, leaving a trail of ticklish sensations.

geto, not one to be outdone, chimes in as well. his voice is a bit pouty, but there’s a hint of playfulness in his tone. “yeah, princess. we’re just sitting here, being well-behaved.” his fingers continue their slow, teasing circles on your thigh.

you roll your eyes, giving them both a nod and a scoff. “yeah, right,” you reply with a smile tugging at your lips. you know what they’re up to, and they know you know. but you don’t stop them. in fact, you just relax further into their touch, letting them continue with their little game, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort in their playful affection.

gojo grins, knowing full well that he’s been caught out. he takes your acceptance as permission to push his limits further.

“what can we say,” he hums, “we just can’t keep our hands to ourselves when you’re around.”

geto nods in agreement, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “yep, we’re just helpless.” he glances over at you, his expression softer than gojo's, but his touch on your thigh is still teasing, still making those soft, circular motions.

you can’t help but smile at their antics, letting them do whatever they want. it’s a familiar dance by now, one you’ve grown used to and secretly love. just as you’re reveling in the warmth of the moment, gojo sees your reaction and decides to get even bolder. he shifts, laying his head on your chest and hugging you tightly.

“i wanna hold you,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against you, and the way he snuggles closer and tangled your legs with his makes your heart flutter. it’s an endearing sight, one that makes it impossible for you to resist. you wrap your arms around him instinctively, feeling the warmth of his body against yours and the way he relaxes even more in your embrace.

geto watches the scene unfold with an amused smile on his face. seeing gojo snuggling up to you like that makes him want to do the same, so he quickly follows suit.

without missing a beat, he scoots closer to you, his body pressed against your other side. he drapes his arm around your waist, his hand resting on your hip, as he nestles his head against your shoulder, mimicking gojo's position.

you let out a soft sigh, a mixture of exasperation and affection, as you wrap your arm around geto as well, pulling him in closer. “i swear you two can’t even go a minute without touching me,” you tease, shaking your head with a smile. your heart swells at the sight of both of them nestled against you, and despite your playful complaint, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

gojo snuggles closer, nuzzling his face against your chest as he responds. “you’re just too damn comfortable,” he mumbles, his voice muffled against your shirt. “and you smell really nice.”

geto chuckles at gojo’s response, his hand slipping under your shirt and rubbing small, soothing circles on the skin of your hip. “he’s right,” he says in agreement, “you’re like a walking pillow.”

you hum softly at their responses, a warm smile spreading across your face. feeling playful, you start to run your hands along their backs, enjoying the feeling of their warmth against you.

leaning down, you place gentle kisses on their heads, letting them know just how much you cherish these moments. the affection and closeness make you feel at home, surrounded by the people you love the most.

both gojo and geto melt into your touch, their bodies relaxing even further against you as you caress their backs and bestow kisses on their heads. for all of their teasing and playfulness, they're also completely helpless when it comes to your tenderness.

gojo lets out a low, contented sigh, his breath warm against your chest. “you’re gonna spoil us,” he murmurs, his voice laced with a hint of pleading.

geto chimes in as well, his head nuzzling against your shoulder. “more please,” he requests, his voice just a soft whisper.

WORDS OF AFFIRMATION

your boyfriends always know what to say, always know how to talk, always know exactly what you want to hear. they have an uncanny ability to calm you down with their words, wrapping you in a cocoon of comfort whenever life gets overwhelming. it’s one of the things you love most about them—the way they can read you like an open book, sensing when you need support and stepping in without hesitation.

just like right now, you find yourself sitting in geto's lap, nestled against him while he sits beside gojo on the couch. the world outside feels chaotic and unforgiving, and today has been one of those days when everything seems to go wrong. it started with small inconveniences—a spilled drink, forget things, and escalated into feelings of frustration and sadness that seemed to pile on top of you like a heavy blanket.

as the tears spill down your cheeks, you can’t help but cry on geto's lap, your emotions spilling out uncontrollably. he wraps his arms around you tightly, pulling you close as if trying to shield you from the weight of the world. his touch is warm and grounding, a stark contrast to the storm of feelings inside you. “it’s okay, princess,” he murmurs softly, his voice smooth and reassuring. “you are doing a good job, we are so proud of you.”

gojo, sitting beside geto on the couch, his expression soft and understanding, watches the scene unfold. he can see the tears streaming down your face, the overwhelming sadness and frustration evident in your every expression. he wants nothing more than to hold you, to soothe the pain and make everything better.

he reaches over, gently rubbing your back, his touch light but supportive. “he’s right,” he says, his voice filled with love and reassurance. “you’re amazing, and we’re here for you through it all. always. you’re not alone, sweetheart.”

geto watches you closely, his heart aching at the sight of your tears. he understands the weight of what you’re going through, and he feels compelled to add his voice to gojo’s comforting words. Leaning in a little closer, he brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle and tender.

“it must be really hard for you to go through your day and try to hold all of those emotions inside,” he says softly, his voice steady and filled with empathy. “but you’re so strong for getting through it, even when everything feels overwhelming. we’re really proud of you, you know?”

he pauses for a moment, letting his words sink in, watching as you take a shaky breath. “and it’s okay to feel this way,” he continues. “tomorrow is a new day. you can try again, and we’ll be right here with you, cheering you on. i promise you’re going to have a better day.”

geto's gaze is sincere, his unwavering support washing over you like a comforting wave. his words wrap around you, mixing with gojo's gentle reassurances, creating a safe space for your feelings.

gojo keeps rubbing your back, his hand moving in small, soothing circles. his eyes meet geto's, and they share a unspoken understanding. they both love you so much, and it breaks their hearts to see you crying like this.

he gives a small, soft smile, his gaze flickering between you and geto. “yeah,” he echoes softly, “you’ve been doing so well, princess. we know it hasn’t been easy, but you’ve been fighting through it all this time. we’re here for you, every step of the way. always.”

you nod slowly against geto's chest, a soft sob escaping your lips as the warmth of their words sinks in. sniffing back your tears, you manage to lift your head slightly to meet their gazes, a small smile breaking through the sadness on your face. “okay,” you say, your voice trembling but filled with gratitude.

gojo and geto both return your small smile with genuine, affectionate grins of their own. just seeing that little hint of a smile on your face makes their hearts skip a beat.

“that’s our girl,” gojo says fondly, his hand rubbing your back again. “always bounces back,” geto adds, his arms tightening around you, pulling you closer as he gently plants a kiss on your forehead.

“we’re with you, through any storm,” gojo continues, his voice reassuring. they can still see the sadness lingering in your eyes, but they also see your resilience. you’re strong, and they know you can weather this.

“you’re not going through anything alone,” geto says, his voice soft yet sure. his fingers gently brush some stray tears off your face, his touch light but nurturing. “we’re here, no matter what. always.”

QUALITY TIME

the perk of being the strongest sorcerers means that your boyfriends, gojo and geto, are often swamped with responsibilities—school, endless meetings, and dangerous missions. but despite how busy they are, they never make you feel neglected. you never have to beg for their time. in fact, they always prioritize you, dropping everything the moment they sense you need them, or just because they miss you.

like right now, you’re lounging in the bedroom, casually playing with your phone, when suddenly, the door opens, and they both walk in, their presence immediately filling the room with warmth.

without hesitation, gojo leans against the doorframe, a playful smile on his face. “sweetheart, you got any plans for tomorrow night?” he asks, his tone casual but with a glint of excitement in his eyes.

you put your phone down and shift, turning to lay on your stomach as you prop yourself up slightly. with a curious smile, you shake your head, eyes flickering between them. “nope, no plans. why?” you ask, your tone light and playful, a hint of excitement creeping in as you wonder what they’ve got up their sleeves.

geto sits down on the edge of the bed, his hand reaching out to brush your hair. his touch is tender, his eyes fixed on you. gojo, meanwhile, pushes off the doorframe, sauntering over to the bed and plopping down next to geto with a smirk.

“we cleared our schedules,” gojo said, his voice smooth and full of affection, “we were thinking it’s time for a night out, just the three of us.” geto nods in agreement, his fingers moving to gently run up and down your arm. “you up for a little adventure?” he asks with a sly smile.

a grin spreads across your face as you hear their suggestion. without hesitation, you push yourself up slightly and raise your hand for a high five. “hell yeah,” you say, your excitement clear as gojo, ever playful, immediately slaps your hand with a wide grin of his own.

but then, a thought crosses your mind, and you tilt your head, your eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion. “wait, don’t you guys have meetings tomorrow?” you ask, glancing between them. there’s a teasing lilt to your voice, but also genuine curiosity about how they managed to pull this off.

gojo throws his arm around your shoulders, a smirk on his face that screams troublemaker. "ah, about that," he says, trying to sound nonchalant, "we might have pulled some strings."

geto, on the other hand, just chuckles, his hand moving to rest on your thigh. “let's just say, we might owe a few favors to some higher-ups,” he admits, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

gojo grins wider, clearly not bothered by the idea of owing favors. “it’s all worth it, princess,” he says, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your shoulder. “we haven’t had a good night out in ages, and we’re determined to make this one unforgettable.” geto nods in agreement, his hand giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. “yep, and we’ve got something special planned just for you,” he says with a playful smirk.

you squint your eyes at them, pretending to be skeptical for a moment, and let out an exaggerated, feigned sigh. “you two always abuse your power,” you tease, your tone dripping with mock annoyance.

but the small smile playing at the corner of your lips betrays you, and they can see right through your act. it’s clear you’re not really complaining; if anything, you’re loving every second of their attention.

gojo and geto glance at each other, their grins growing wider, knowing exactly what you’re playing at, but playing along.

“hey, we’d do anything to spend some quality time with our favorite girl,” gojo says with a scoff, pretending to be offended. geto rolls his eyes, his hand moving to gently tug at your hair. “yeah, we’re such terrible sorcerers for using our power to plan a night of fun for our princess,” he adds, his tone just as dramatic.

you scrunch your nose at their playful dramatics, unable to hold back a chuckle. their banter always gets to you, and the way they both go along with your teasing makes your heart warm. without saying a word, you lean upward, closing the small distance between you and them, and give each of them a quick kiss—soft, affectionate, but brief enough to leave them wanting more.

“you two are impossible,” you say with a playful smile, your eyes sparkling with affection.

gojo pouts, crossing his arms and flopping back on the bed. “impossible?” he repeats, the word coming out in a drawn-out whine. geto snorts at his reaction, his hand still playing with your hair. “yeah, and princess, you’re the one encouraging our bad behavior,” he adds with a feigned sigh, his eyes flickering between you and gojo with a playful spark.

RECEIVING GIFS

do you know that feeling when you're in a relationship and you secretly hope your partner would surprise you with something thoughtful, like flowers or chocolates, without you having to ask? maybe you’ve even heard your friends talk about how they wish their significant other would just pick up on those little desires without needing a nudge. they talk about how they wait for those small, romantic gestures, only to be disappointed when they don’t come.

well, that’s something you’ll never understand. not because you don’t want those surprises, but because your boyfriends have made sure you never have to ask for anything. in fact, they seem to always be one step ahead. whether it’s a normal, uneventful day or something more special, like your birthday or an anniversary, they always go above and beyond. sometimes it’s almost like they can read your mind—or maybe they just know you that well.

they don’t wait for hints or subtle suggestions. if they feel like treating you, they’ll do it without a second thought, and it’s often. one day it’s a spontaneous bouquet of flowers, and the next, it’s chocolates they know are your favorite. you might be lounging on the couch, enjoying some quiet time, when the door swings open, and they walk in with bags of new clothes they picked out just because they thought you’d look amazing in them. no occasion needed. it’s as if spoiling you is something they enjoy just as much as you do.

and let’s not even get started on your birthday, your anniversary, or valentine’s day. on those days, they take gift-giving to a whole new level, pulling out all the stops. they shower you with gifts—everything from luxury items to personalized tokens of affection that leave you feeling cherished beyond words. they never miss a chance to remind you how much you mean to them.

today, it’s just another normal evening. you’re standing in the kitchen, casually preparing dinner for them. you’ve learned by now that cooking when they’re home is nearly impossible. they never let you lift a finger once they walk through the door. either they’ll distract you with their affection, or they’ll insist on ordering your favorite takeout because they don’t want you to worry about anything, especially not when it comes to food.

so, you decided to get a head start before they come back. the aroma of a home-cooked meal fills the kitchen, and just as you’re adding the final touches to the dish, you hear the familiar sound of the door opening. your heart skips a beat—knowing it’s them—before you even see them. it’s like the air in the room shifts the moment they step inside.

you turn around, wiping your hands on a towel, and sure enough, there they are. gojo’s tall figure fills the doorway first, his ever-playful smirk on display as he walks in. following closely behind is geto, his calm demeanor a perfect contrast to gojo’s vibrant energy. but what really catches your attention are the things they’re carrying. in gojo’s hand is a large, stunning bouquet of your favorite flowers, vibrant and freshly arranged. in geto’s arms are several shopping bags—no doubt filled with more surprises—and balanced on top of the bags is a beautifully wrapped box of chocolates. not just any chocolates—your favorite kind, the ones they always get just right.

you blink in surprise, a smile already tugging at your lips. “oh baby, what’s all this?” you ask, though you already know the answer.

gojo struts in confidently, the bouquet of bright and fragrant flowers in his hand. his smirk widens into a full-blown, ear-to-ear smile, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and affection.

geto follows behind, carrying the bags and the box of chocolates with his usual calm demeanor. he meets your gaze, his eyes warm and filled with love. he knows your reaction will be priceless.

“just a little some some,” gojo says casually, closing the distance between you. he holds out the flowers, that same charming smirk playing on his lips. “for our princess, of course.”

geto nods in agreement, laying the bags on the kitchen counter and carefully setting the chocolates down on top. his eyes never leave you, taking in your slightly bewildered yet pleased expression.

“can’t have a day go by without spoiling our princess,” geto adds, a lazy smile on his lips.

gojo moves even closer, his hand finding its way to your waist, pulling you against him. “gotta keep you on your toes,” he teases, his voice low and playful. “besides, can’t have you getting bored of us, now can we?”

a bright smile instantly spreads across your face as you take the bouquet from gojo, the sweet fragrance filling the space between you. “i don’t think i could ever get bored of you two, even if you didn’t spoil me rotten like this,” you reply with a playful grin, your eyes twinkling with affection.

gojo lets out a mock scoff, feigning offense, his hand still resting on your hip. “careful, princess, that’s almost an insult,” he teases, his grin mirroring yours.

geto chuckles softly, shaking his head, his arms now free. he steps closer to you and gojo, his eyes locked on you as you hold the flowers in your hands, admiring them. “just admit you love being spoiled,” he says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“yeah, we know you love it when we go overboard,” gojo adds, his hand gently rubbing your hip, his touch light and affectionate.

geto nods, his gaze shifting from you to the bouquet in your hands, a soft smile on his lips. “after all, how could we resist? especially when you look so damn cute with that happy sparkle in your eyes.”

you hold the bouquet up to your nose, inhaling the sweet fragrance, and a soft hum of contentment escapes your lips. gojo’s grip on your hip tightens just a fraction, his touch sending a warm shiver down your spine.

“alright, you got me,” you admit, your tone light and playful. “i do love being spoiled by my two handsome boyfriends.”

gojo gives your hip a gentle squeeze, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “that's more like it,” he says, his tone dripping with satisfaction. geto chuckles again, moving even closer to you. his eyes scan your face, drinking in your every expression, the way your eyes light up and sparkle in your hands. his voice is warm as he agrees with you.

“and we love spoiling you,” he says, his words filled with genuine affection. “especially when you look so happy and radiant like this.” your smile grows even bigger as you stand on your tiptoes, placing a soft kiss on both of their cheeks. “thank you,” you whisper, your voice full of warmth and appreciation, feeling their closeness and affection wrap around you like a blanket.

gojo lets out a low, contented hum as your lips touch his cheek, his smile widening. he leans into the kiss, a hint of a playful gleam in his eyes.

geto’s expression softens even more at your gesture, his eyes filled with pure tenderness. he leans down just a little so you can reach him, his arm encircling around your waist, pulling you close against him.

“you’re more than welcome,” geto replies, his voice gentle and warm. “seeing you smile is all the thanks we need, princess.” his lips grazing your forehead, leaving a kiss in return. “we’ll always make sure you’re happy,” he assures you, his eyes meeting yours with gentle tenderness.

gojo leans down as well, pressing another kiss to your other cheek, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment. “that's right,” he agrees with geto, his tone firm and sincere. “nothing's more important than your smile, princess.”

he straightens up, his hand still on your hip, his touch light but possessive. “we’ll do whatever it takes to keep that beautiful smile on your face,” he adds with a smirk, his eyes filled with affectionate determination.

ANOTHER WAY TO SAY I LOVE YOU

despite all the endless love they shower you with, gojo and geto have a relentless streak when it comes to teasing you. it’s almost as if they take a certain joy in seeing how far they can push you before you throw a fit—just so they can wrap you in their arms afterward, apologize sweetly, and watch your face blush with frustration. they love seeing that upset, pouty expression, knowing it’s only a matter of time before they have to spoil you all over again to make up for it. they never mean any harm, but they certainly enjoy pushing your buttons to the limit.

like today. it’s the weekend, and the three of you somehow got it in your heads that baking a cake together would be a fun, relaxing activity. a dumb idea, really, but none of you were willing to back down once it was suggested. after all, what could possibly go wrong?

the kitchen is a chaotic mess as the three of you work—well, as much as you can call it "work." geto is organizing the ingredients with precision, while you and gojo stand side by side, tasked with mixing the batter. or rather, you’re trying to mix the batter while gojo is making a mess of things. despite geto’s clear instructions to use a spoon or whisk, gojo insisted on mixing with his hands, which he dramatically donned gloves for, claiming it was more "authentic" and "fun." you should have known better than to let him go along with it.

as you focus on your part of the task, suddenly, you feel gojo’s hand on your arm. “hey, come here for a second,” he says innocently, pulling you closer to him. before you even realize what’s happening, his gloved hand, completely covered in wet dough, smears all over your arm.

you scream, jerking back in surprise, staring down at your dough-coated arm in disbelief. “satoru! what the hell?” your voice is a mix of shock and frustration as you look at him, wide-eyed.

gojo lets out a laugh at your reaction, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and mischief. “what?” he says, feigning innocence, a sly smile on his face. “it was just a little accidental cake batter on your arm. it’s harmless.”

geto, meanwhile, shakes his head, clearly exasperated at gojo's antics. he looks at you, then at gojo, his expression a mix of annoyance and amusement. “satoru, you're going to undo all the work we've done so far.”

“ah, come on, it’s just a bit of fun,” gojo replies, a mischievous grin on his face, clearly enjoying the situation. he continues to mix the batter with his gloved hands, creating more of a mess in the process—intentional or not.

geto rolls his eyes but can’t help but crack a smile, shaking his head again at the mess they’re making in the kitchen. “yeah, fun for you, maybe. not so much for the rest of us trying to actually bake a cake.”

you let out a loud groan, stomping your foot in frustration. “ugh! now the batter’s all over me! it’s sticky, and it’s going to ruin my clothes!” you stretch your arms out awkwardly, trying your hardest to keep the messy dough from spreading any further onto your outfit.

“satoru!” you whine, shooting him a glare as you attempt to shake the dough off, but it’s clinging stubbornly to your skin. “this is so gross! now i have to clean this off, and if it gets on my clothes, i swear i’m not baking with you two again!” your mini tantrum cracking a bigger smile from geto's lips.

gojo chuckles in response, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “aww, it's just a little batter, princess. don’t be such a drama queen,” he replies, his tone nonchalant and carefree.

he mixes the batter some more, creating even more of a mess while enjoying the spectacle of your frustrated reaction. “it's not that bad. you're overreacting. and plus, it's kind of cute seeing you all worked up like this, isn't it geto?” he adds, throwing a glance at his partner.

geto, who’s been watching gojo’s antics with a mixture of amusement and annoyance, sighs deeply, unable to hide his smile completely. “i wouldn’t say cute exactly. more like…mildly entertaining.” he turns his attention to you, his eyes scanning you up and down. “although i will say, the way you’re pouting right now is quite endearing,” he teases.

you scrunch your nose in clear annoyance, giving them both an exaggerated glare. “no, it’s not cute! it’s gross! it’s wet, sticky, and buttery,” you huff, stretching your arms out again in frustration, careful not to get the batter on anything else. “my skin is going to be all oily, and i’ll smell like butter for the rest of the day!” you complain in a dramatic, sassy tone.

“seriously, satoru, why can’t you just mix it like a normal person? why did you have to make this so messy?” you continue, your voice full of mock indignation as you try your best to salvage your dignity.

gojo laughs again at your annoyed reaction, clearly enjoying your frustration. “oh, live a little, princess. it’s just a bit of cake batter. it's not going to kill you, and it definitely won’t kill your sense of style,” he retorts, his tone slightly mocking.

geto just watches with an amused expression, his arms crossed against his chest. “yeah, relax a little, princess. you’re being a bit too high strung about this whole thing. it’s just a little mess.”

you let out an exasperated groan, stomping your feet in frustration as you turn away from them. “ugh, you’re both such assholes!” you shout over your shoulder, your voice a mix of irritation and amusement.

you march over to the sink, the cool water looking like a welcome relief for your sticky arms. as you turn on the faucet, you can’t help but throw a playful glare back at them.

you start rinsing your arms, the water washing away the gooey batter. “seriously, though, who thought baking would be a good idea?” you mumble, shaking your head as the remnants of the cake batter swirl down the drain.

gojo grins widely at your reaction, not seeming remorseful in the slightest. “aww, princess, we’re just having a bit of fun. don’t be so serious,” he replies, his tone still teasing.

geto chuckles softly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “well, it was your idea to bake a cake, remember?” he points out, raising an eyebrow in your direction.

you stop mid-scrub, turning to geto with a fierce glare. “shut up! nobody asked you!” you shoot back, your voice a mix of frustration and playful sass. you resume cleaning your hands, splashing a little more water than necessary as you try to keep a straight face.

gojo laughs out loud at your snappy comeback, clearly enjoying your feistiness. “damn, princess, you’re on fire today,” he remarks, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

geto just grins amusedly at your reaction. “careful, princess. one more outburst like that and you might just burst a blood vessel.” he teases, his tone light and carefree.

you try to ignore their teasing, focusing on rinsing off the last bits of batter from your hands. but just as you think you’ve escaped their antics, you feel gojo’s hands grab your arms again, smothering you in even more cake batter.

“satoru!” you shout, half-laughing and half-exasperated as you watch the globs of sticky mixture cling to your skin. “what is wrong with you?!”

gojo grins mischievously as he watches the look on your face, clearly having the time of his life. “what? you look so damn cute covered in cake batter,” he teases, his hands still holding your wrists firmly.

geto, who’s been watching from the side, finally intervenes, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “satoru, seriously, quit antagonizing her. she’s going to kill you at this rate.”

you feel the frustration bubble up inside you, and despite your best efforts to hold it together, the tears spill over, warm and salty against your cheeks. “why do you always have to tease me?” you manage to choke out, your voice shaky as you stretch your arms awkwardly, trying to shake off the sticky cake batter clinging to your skin.

gojo watches, amusement dancing in his eyes, but the sight of your tears causes his playful demeanor to falter for just a moment. his teasing grin softens as he takes a step closer, still holding your wrists. “hey, come on. it was just a bit of fun. don’t cry,” he says, his tone shifting from mischievous to genuinely concerned.

geto, standing nearby, can’t help but chuckle softly at your reaction, though the warmth in his gaze shows he cares. “looks like our little princess is really upset now,” he remarks, shaking his head with a playful smile. but as he steps closer, the teasing in his eyes melts away, replaced with an affectionate expression.

with a gentle sigh, he walks over to you, his arms opening wide in a comforting gesture. “there you are, our crybaby,” he says softly, wrapping you in a warm embrace that feels like a safe haven. his hold is reassuring, and the way he presses you against his chest makes you feel a bit better despite the tears still streaming down your face.

gojo’s expression changes from amused to genuinely concerned as he watches you trying to hold back your tears, his grip on your wrist loosening a bit.

“princess…” he says softly, his voice filled with regret. “i didn’t mean to make you cry. it was just a stupid joke.”

geto holds you in a comforting embrace, his arms wrapped around you tightly. he can’t help a soft chuckle at your reaction, but his eyes are filled with warmth and concern. “hey, it’s okay, love. it’s just cake batter.”

you snuggle closer into geto's embrace, feeling the warmth radiate from him as you try to steady your breath. your voice is muffled against his chest as you protest, “it’s a mess! and i’m not a crybaby!” the words come out a bit more whiny than you intended, and you can’t help but feel a mix of frustration and vulnerability.

gojo lets out a small sigh, his hand moving to gently pat your head, his touch softer now. “i know, i know. i’m sorry, princess. i shouldn’t have messed around like that.”

geto rubs your back soothingly, his embrace still firm and reassuring. he smiles at your whiny protest, his voice laced with affectionate patience. “oh, you’re not a crybaby?” he teases gently. “then why are you acting like one right now?”

you pull away slightly, still feeling a bit flustered but determined to regain your composure. “shut up,” you mutter, shooting geto a playful glare before turning your attention to gojo. “and you—better clean my arms! look at this mess!”

you stretch out your dough-covered arms dramatically, showing off the sticky concoction that clings to your skin. your pout is half-hearted, a mix of annoyance and amusement that’s hard to hide.

gojo lets out a small laugh, his eyes roaming over your sticky arms. “fine, fine, i’ll clean them. you’re really being such a drama queen about this cake batter.”

he steps closer to you, his hands reaching out to grab your wrists gently. his touch is surprisingly tender, his long fingers wrapping around your arms carefully. “just stay still for a second, princess. let me clean you up.”

he starts to clean your arms, carefully wiping the cake batter away, his touch a mixture of gentle and firm. he takes his time, making sure not to miss any spots and get every bit of batter off your skin. “see, it’s not so bad,” he teases softly.

geto watches from the side, his gaze filled with a mix of amusement and affection. he can’t help but find your dramatic reaction endearing, and he chuckles softly at your pout.

you grumble in mock annoyance. “you guys always do this, don’t you? tease me until I’m crying,” you say, trying to maintain your serious demeanor, but a hint of amusement sparkles in your eyes.

despite the playful pout on your lips, it’s hard to stay upset when gojo is being so gentle and attentive. “it’s like you both get a kick out of it,” you add, rolling your eyes, but the corners of your mouth betray your true feelings, twitching up into a reluctant smile.

gojo chuckles at your complaint, his lips curling into a sly smile. “can you blame us?” he teases. "you’re just too cute when you’re all pouty and worked up. and it’s even cuter when you start acting like a crybaby.”

geto snorts, unable to hold back an amused laugh. “he’s right, you know,” he says, his voice casual but filled with affection. “watching you get all riled up is one of our favorite pastimes.”

geto’s expression softens as he watches you, a warm smile spreading across his face. he gently pats your head, his fingers brushing through your hair. “adorable,” he added, his tone playful yet sincere, “you look really cute when you’re glaring at us like that.” he chuckles softly, noticing how you’re trying so hard to hide your amusement, even as your cheeks flush a bright red from frustration.

“it’s adorable, actually. especially when you’re all worked up and your little pout makes you look even cuter and how your cheeks became red from frustation.” his eyes sparkle with affection, clearly enjoying the moment.

gojo, who's still wiping the batter off your arms, smiles at geto's words, his eyes flicking up to meet his partner's gaze. “i agree,” he says, his tone filled with amusement. “you really do look adorable when you’re all flustered and frustrated like this.”

he grins, his touch growing even gentler as he works. “your little pout and those rosy cheeks? damn, princess, it’s almost too cute,” he chimes in. “it makes me want to just pinch your cheeks and tease you even more just to see you get even more riled up.”

you roll your eyes at gojo’s teasing, crossing your arms defiantly. “i’m not cute,” you insist, trying to maintain a serious expression, but it falters as a hint of a smile threatens to break through.

geto hums softly in response, clearly enjoying the banter. he leans closer, his fingers gently stroking your hair as he plants a soft kiss on your red cheek. “how about we skip the mess and just buy a cake from that bakery you love so much?” he suggests, his voice smooth and soothing. “i think that sounds much better than dealing with this chaos.”

you pucker your lips, trying to hide the smile spreading across your face as you nod in agreement. “fine, if you're forcing me,” you say, your tone a mix of reluctance and excitement. you can’t help but feel a little giddy at the thought of indulging in a delicious cake from your favorite bakery.

gojo rolls his eyes at your protest. “please. you’re adorable and you know it,” he retorts, his tone playful. “and there’s no point in hiding it either, princess. we know the truth.”

geto chuckles at your agreement, his voice warm and affectionate. “that’s our princess, always giving in so easily,” he teases, planting another soft kiss on your cheek before stepping away. “let’s go get your cake, love.”

[nvirskies]

it's getting hot in here - c. la rue

warnings: reader is like half-naked? just no shirt on is all but reader is wearing a sports bra, nothing sexual just like a tad suggestive?, clarisse is a gay mess, kinda ooc clarisse, i know next to nothing about blacksmithing please hang in there with me, fem reader, no use of y/n, self-conscious reader, not beta read

summary: clarisse goes to pick up a custom order dagger from the forge when she's met with an unexpected sight.

hephaestus!daughter!reader x clarisse la rue

word count: 1.3k

taglist: @lvrue @azrielsdiary @b0ok-lover @star-girl69 @petitegavotte

from this post !

a/n: tbh might make this a multi part thing, at least a second part. also, so sorry this took so long to finish- i got sidetracked with a couple other things irl. hope you enjoy! men, nsfw, non-sapphics, 16- / 19+ dni

It was no secret the kids of Cabin 9 ran a side business to make some extra cash. It was pretty lucrative, given that there would always be a line of demigods waiting to have their weapon(s) of choice customized. Custom engravings, patterns cast into handles, ergonomic handpiece add-ons, and so much more. Name it, and it would be done for the right price, forged with impeccable quality.

And that was how Clarisse La Rue found herself heading to the forge just east of the strawberry fields with a thin paper in one hand and a small bag of golden drachmas in the other. The edges of the slip were just barely singed, and the writing on it looked nearly incomprehensible to many eyes, scribbled notes of her order confirmation and gods only knew what else. It didn’t matter to her, she just needed it to get her dagger and go.

Crowds parted for her like the Red Sea, once-lively conversations coming to a grinding halt as she walked straight through crowds and groups with nothing more than a glare and a sharp look in any general direction. 

In no time at all, the familiar sounds of machinery clanking, fire hissing and crackling, and hammers striking metal filled the air. It was the forge, the singular place where one could guarantee there would be at least one child of Hephaestus in there at all hours of the day. 

She pushed open the heavy metal door, swinging it wide open soundlessly despite its obvious weight. And what a sight she was greeted with. You were there alone, hunched over a piece of blisteringly hot metal, pounding away at it with a hammer in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other.

Something about you entranced her. 

She didn’t know if it was the way your hair was pulled into a low ponytail, some loose strands clinging to the sides of your face, the way you subconsciously bit your lip as you focused completely on the red-hot metal in front of you. Or perhaps, it was the way your muscles rippled in the dim firelight as you struck the metal again and again, a thin sheen of sweat covering the exposed portions of your skin from both the heat and the exertion. 

Maybe it was a combination or something else entirely. 

As she gazed at you, a light blush dusted her cheeks as she came to the realization that you weren’t wearing much while working. The heat of the forge had led you to forgo wearing a shirt entirely, said shirt reduced to a tiny, crumpled gray bundle of fabric in the corner of the room. You were left wearing a sports bra, dusted with ash and soot and a pair of baggy sweatpants resting just above your hips.

It wasn’t as if Clarisse had never seen people dressed in less before. Hell, she’d seen her own fair amount of skin for various reasons. But this time, it seemed different. The slip of paper and bag of coins in her hands were forgotten momentarily as she simply stared at you from the doorway.

The way the dim light of the roaring furnace illuminated you from behind gave you an almost ethereal glow, the edges of the flames flickering around your moving silhouette. 

She could see the muscles in your arm and shoulder tensing and relaxing with every ever-so-precise swing of the hammer, and she found herself silently watching you work from the doorway. 

Ultimately, it was the soft clinking coming from the bag of drachmas Clarisse held in her hand that drew your attention away from the project in front of you. Your head snapped up, tense and a tad startled from the sudden sound, having been so zoned into your work that you hadn’t noticed her presence. 

The hammer in your hand dropped to the metal workbench with a loud clang, the sound reverberating throughout the forge, ripping Clarisse from the glossed-over, hazy look in her eyes as she watched you move just moments ago, having been completely and utterly under your spell.

“Shit-!” you exclaimed, jumping slightly and wincing at the harsh sound, eyes widening further as you’re greeted with the sight of a Clarisse who seemed far too casual compared to how she normally treated campers, especially given her outward distaste towards children of Hephaestus. 

And all of a sudden, you’re all too aware of your lack of a shirt and your cheeks flare with an embarrassed bright red flush.

Flushed the same color as the heated metal in front of you, Clarisse noted absentmindedly. It wasn’t a look she didn’t like. But of course, she would never admit that. The big, bad Clarisse La Rue flustered over something as insignificant as muscles on a girl? Impossible.

Her attention is drawn back to you, observing as you scurry to the other side of the room to grab your stashed-away shirt, slipping the loose grey fabric over your body, any and all views of the muscles she had seen just moments prior completely disappearing in a matter of seconds.

After having taken a few calming breaths, you steeled yourself for a barrage of snarky remarks that you were sure would come spewing out of the Ares cabin counselor’s mouth like acid out of the myrmeke’s mouths, but they never came.

Instead, you’re greeted with the sight of a Clarisse who seemed to be a bit flustered? Her eyes didn’t meet yours for a moment before she straightened herself out. Before your very eyes, you watched her cool and collected facade slip over her like a mask, and that trademark smirk of hers tugged at the corners of her lips.

“I’m here to pick up an order, under my name,” she remarks, holding up the bag of drachmas and thin slip of paper in an outstretched hand. Her gaze seemed like it was scrutinizing everything about your appearance from the baggy grey shirt that hung loosely over your frame to the soot just barely smudged on your forehead. Whether it was a good or bad look you had no idea, subconsciously shrinking into the shadows of the dimly lit forge.

“Right, right, La Rue…” you trail off nervously, scanning the room for the rack that held completed orders and leafing through the tags attached to each object. “La Rue, La Rue, La Rue, where is it-?” you muse to yourself, repeating her last name in a hushed tone until the sight of it comes into view. The dagger she had ordered was at the edge of the table, with the request for a heavyweight handle and an etching of her initials into the butt of it.

Normally, Clarisse would have found your behavior annoying if it were coming from anyone else, but oddly enough, she quite liked the way her last name rolled off your tongue. It felt almost natural, too natural. Quickly, she brushed away the lingering thoughts about how you had looked almost god-like with the flame from the roaring furnace glowing behind you, the thoughts of what your skin would feel like under her hands. 

After a beat of silence, you grabbed said dagger, placed a little ball of clay over its razor-sharp tip, and slipped it into a small drawstring bag, pulling it closed. 

“That’ll be five golden drachmas, La Rue, or fifteen silver ones. Whatever works for you” you say as you hand her the bag, other hand outstretched for the paper she held and to take the coins. She dropped the five golden coins in your palm and grabbed the bag to turn on her heel and walk out without another word.

Or so you thought.

“Thanks for the weapon. I’ll see you around, pretty girl.”

[darylssunshine]

Golden

genre: fluff

word count: 761

a/n: yes ik this isn't that long but I just needed to express how beautiful Daryl is

You squinted, the harsh light of the outside world flooding your bedroom and into your sleep-addled eyes. Your hand instinctively was brought up to your face to shield it from the onslaught of light, ducking your head deeper into the pillow below you. You took a view moments before slowly blinking them back open and the world around you gradually became less blurry. The window that was just assaulting you seconds before, the soft blanket that kept you warm, and… your husband.

You genuinely forget that he sleeps next to you sometimes, with how much he refuses to sleep or goes on supply runs that take multiple days. When he does actually take the time to rest, you selfishly soak in the sight.

He looked so peaceful, something that harshly juxtaposed his usual stressed demeanor. Golden rays of sunlight from the window on your side of the bed danced across his face, giving him an almost holy glow. One arm was tucked beneath his pillow as a head rest, while the other was loosely draped around your waist, holding the two of you in an instinctual embrace. Soft breaths that were bordering on deep snores could be heard emanating from his parted lips, and you responded with a faint smile. You honestly couldn't believe that a man as perfect as him was sleeping beside you. You had to pinch yourself sometimes. 

You sighed, knowing that you and Daryl couldn't cuddle in bed for the rest of eternity. There was work to be done. Tenderly, you gave him a kiss on the tip of his nose and moved a stray hair out of his face, lightly rubbing the side of his head with your thumb. You swore Daryl very faintly smiled at this in his sleep. Untucking yourself from the covers, you gently swung your legs to the side of the bed, stood up, and stretched. 

-

The smell of bacon filled the kitchen, along with the consistent sizzling of the meat on the frying pan. You gripped the handle of the pan and flipped on over with tongs. Rick had been lucky enough to find several working coffee pots on a run a couple weeks ago, so you were utilizing it to its fullest. It's bitter as all hell, but it's better than being dead all day. Your mug was steaming next to the stove top as you stretched your stiff neck, turning the heat off. You padded over to the corner of the kitchen to grab the bread and jam out of one of the cabinets, when you heard soft footsteps exiting the bedroom. You didn't turn around, but you smiled to yourself.

Two firm, bare arms wrapped around your torso and you felt a weight on your shoulder. You placed the bread and jam on the counter below and rested your arms on the forearms that were now caging you in an embrace.

“Hey, sleepyhead.”

He softly grunted in response, knowing that his mouth was right next to your ear.

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

Your heart skipped a beat. His voice was so deep and rumbly in the morning. This man will never know how much he flusters you on a daily basis. 

You snickered and turned around in his hold, immediately placing a hand on his cheek, slowly rubbing your thumb across his stubble. He had remained shirtless, only having enough energy to pull on a pair of nearby sweatpants. Your bright eyes met his equally bright blue irises, though they were half-lidded, still full of sleep. 

“Dar, have I told you how pretty you are when you’re just waking up?”

His eyes were already closed again, leaning into your touch. “Ya have. Still don’t believe ya.”

“Guess I’ll just have to make you believe, then.”

You pulled him into a lazy kiss, your hands now on both sides of his face. It wasn’t hungry, nor longing, it was a reminder that you were his, every second of every day, no matter what state he was in.

Daryl punctuated the slow kiss by releasing the hold he had on your waist to grip the back of your thighs and cradle your back. Suddenly, he effortlessly lifted you into the bridal position, gripping you in place with his strong hands. “Dar, what’re you doing??” You said in between a fit of giggles. 

He placed a kiss on the top of your head. “Yer comin’ back ta bed. Wanna hold ya.”

You didn’t protest in the slightest, sighing contently while nuzzling your head into your husband’s chest, the bacon and the coffee forgotten.