#weather ruins everything

[heartstolife]

i am mad

i’m supposed to see the annular eclipse but it’s cloudyyyy

[fritzes]

the delray final is almost certainly getting delayed to monday which means I probably won’t be able to watch it 😭

[outlying-hyppocrate]

sometimes you know you're going to have a good day. and sometimes the weather forecast says it's going to rain and your shoulder is bleeding and you haven't heard from a loved one in a while

[clueless1995]

so i know i never ever talk about it ever but i grew up on a flower farm and it is so funny how people react when i tell them that. some people are surprised that flower farms are even a thing?? like im sorry did you think the florists have big secret meadows full of wildflowers with one big but inviting tree on the top of a small hill that they frolick through every morning, singing and letting butterflies land in their hair???? and honestly even people who aren’t shocked about the sheer existence of them sometimes gets a look where i can tell they’re Definitely imagining that meadow scene skdjksjd

[dxppercxdxver]

teeny little study for that thing with @chiropteracupola :)

shining on the inside

Despite the fact that he was thousands of miles from a home he felt quite certain he was never to return to, Daniel was always his most comfortable sat round a fire, turning a skewer with a quiet satisfaction.

Golden sparks leapt into the sky, ferocious, yet fizzling out before they could touch the sun-scorched leaves looming over their encampment. The last dregs of the summer evening hung thick and heavy in the air. Sighing, Daniel shrugged his shoulder and wiped at the sweat coagulating in his beard; it was a pointless gesture, really, it was sure to return in but a moment, but neither could he resist it. He was far, far from Georgia, and the heat still clung to him, a specter of the swamps, the mansion, the family he left behind.

On this summer night, Daniel and a small collection of his compatriots were rather rudely stationed deep in the woods of New Jersey, pitching tents and keeping watch while a strike force of their remaining team hobnobbed with the high society folks he had done his best to avoid for the rest of his earthly existence. He was content with that arrangement, of course, but a part of him longed for a mattress and the privacy of four sturdy walls, both of which were decidedly scarce in the wilderness.

Daniel’s spectacles were beginning to escape down his sweat-slicked nose.

Hand occupied with what was to be their dinner, he had no real way to coerce them back to their proper place, and could do very little else beyond contorting his face into all manner of expressions, before gloved fingers grasped the end of the spit and freed him of his duty. He mumbled a quick thanks, scrambling to replace his specs before he lost them again. When he looked up, Prometheus sat cross legged on the ground next to him, flames glimmering in the dark glasses they wore as they stared into the embers.

“Thank you kindly,” Daniel said, gently taking the spit from them to continue turning the cuts of venison Mundy had secured for them earlier in the day. Grease popped and spit, and Prometheus continued to examine it with what Daniel presumed to be detached curiosity. They clasped their hands in their lap, wiggling their boots and leaving small tracks in the dust. While they watched, their focus never broke, not even when an uproarious guffaw echoed from somewhere near the edge of camp.

Smiling softly, Daniel lightly tapped Prometheus on the shoulder.

“Y’like fires, don’t you?”

Prometheus seemed to brighten, straightening up and nodding enthusiastically. Their hood bounced with the gesture, loose curls of dark hair escaping from under its frayed edge.

“Thought so.” There was something horribly endearing about the way their silent firebrand, so capable of carnage on a level previously unknown to most, could find genuine moments of peace in the breathing space between battles, even if it was to be found in gazing longingly at smoldering logs with the reverence of a congregation for its priest. Of course, Daniel was familiar with Prometheus’s work—had been a rather vocal proponent of recruiting them to the team in the first place—but the figure behind the pamphlets was a far different one than he could have ever expected. Now, he was being allowed a peek through the curtain, to view their adoration of fire on a personal level, not just a political one.

Nudging Prometheus with his toe, Daniel said, “I do too.”

And it was true. Fire had been one of Daniel’s lone comforts when he had burned his final bridge, funnily enough; it had kept him warm, guided him to welcoming homes, and most of all, been printed in the pages of the writings he kept tucked in a pocket close to his chest. He propelled himself forward with the flames under his heels, wielding it to create, and build, and forge. Even here, roasting dinner over a meager blaze and sweltering in his woolen coat, the warmth was a touch of reassurance, careful hands cradling his face. It was nice to share the company with someone of a similar mind.

“You know,” he mused, bouncing his heel against the ground, “you’re a right fine fellow, lightning bug.”

Prometheus shimmied in their seat, knocking their head into Daniel’s knee with a muffled, “Mmmmph!” Toes tapping the stone circle that contained the fire, this was the most engaged Daniel had ever seen them, cheerful and alive.

Laughing, Daniel looked at the patch of empty dirt next to them. “Y’all got any room down there?”

Within seconds, Prometheus was shuffling aside, patting the ground and sending up little plumes of fine dust. The invitation was clear.

Daniel braced the spit under his upper arm, while Prometheus took his hand and guided him to his seat, settling hip to hip, knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder.

When Daniel looked at them once more, now level with their masked face, he could swear he saw the glint of soft, dark eyes behind the sparkling tinted glass.

[kuraikyu]

@ w @

*whispers* It's too hot to write ...

[dykekeit]

My god. My entire working adult life thus far has been defined by COVID and paying for grad school. And now I’m booking a VACATION. Abroad! Internationally! I keep looking over my shoulder and texting people to ask, “can I actually do this? Is this REAL?” and the answer is YES, astoundingly YES, the world is finally, fucking FINALLY open to me

[fangirlwithasweettooth]

it’s truly a cruel joke of the universe that I love the rain but whenever it rains i completely lose the ability to breathe properly 🥲

[mitsdriveswhere]

i'm not getting excited about my trip in two weeks i'm not excited yet i promise

[bluemoonstonesy]

anyways went to town on my own for the first time in ages today so slay common liv w independent queen icon the lot

[darkmatter-swordsman]

Marluxia dream

[personal-worst]

woman on the train a row away from me has very intense city planning opinions and she is so right.

[inmaki]

gojo showing off your back scratches to geto

( cont from this fic! req, visual ) .

contains: sex talk, desc of back scratches, crack, sugu is called daddy once (as a joke.. right..)

everything was relatively peaceful in suguru's apartment. key word: relatively.

a forgettable yet appreciated sunday afternoon, not a cloud in sight despite the weather forecast predicting downpours of rain. either way, the raven-haired man insouciantly rested across his white couch, reaching the conclusion that today would be a day for self-care, relaxing, and perhaps some meditation.

there was only one thing ruining his peace.

all morning, suguru has been forced to try and ignore the stain a certain someone has left on his couch — a pair of unecessarily expensive yet dirty shoes being the culprit.

despite these attempts, every once in a while his gaze can't help but wander over at the mark — as if it'd poof out of existence if he glared hard enough.

"fuckin' asshole.." he mutters. it was a wonder his relationship with his best friend managed to stay so promising despite all their differences, yet suguru wouldn't have it any other way, even after situations like this.

right when he grumpily turns back to the tv — which was playing some crappy, low budget rom-com — his apartment door is yanked open and suguru swears he nearly jumps out of his seat.

great, was this it? was he about to get robbed, perhaps evicted? and then probably die? forced into the afterlife knowing gojo's shoe-shit was still on his new couch? no that can't—

"i fucked her!"

suguru whips his head towards the apartment door, announcement being disregarded as he nearly groans in agony. speak of the devil.

big blue eyes peak out from under circular sunglasses, one hand already raised in preparation for a dap up while his stupid, big, dirty shoe pushes the door closed behind him. gojo wears a black compression shirt with grey sweats, marching over to his friend with a ginormous grin across his cheeks.

"take your shoes off, now," suguru snaps, nodding to his friend's feet with a frown.

"yeesh... whatever y'say, daddy," the bastard never loses his smile as his hands raise in surrender, kicking them off by the door smoothly. "what's got your panties in a twist?"

geto pinches his nose bridge. "don't call me that," as he continues the scolding, he points to the living room with his free hand. "you got a mystery stain on my couch, satoru. do you know how many youtube videos i watched trying to get this shit off?"

unphased, gojo takes a look at the strangely colored blob against the armrest's leather material and shrugs. "my bad. did you try febreeze?"

"what— no? dude, febreeze is for.." when suguru looks back up to sourly meet his gaze, he could immediately tell the white-haired man was already drifting back into la-la-land, words going in one ear and out the other. "..nevermind. why're you here?"

at the reminder, satoru seemingly brightens, head shooting back up as if he was just told he'd won the lottery.

"oh god, don't make that stupid face—" he pauses. "the fuck are you doing?" suguru might as well say goodbye to his self-care day, because now gojo was stripping in the middle of his living room, shirt thrown haphazardly onto the still-very-much-stained couch.

"just look!" suguru squints as his friend swivels around to face the wall, pushing his bangs away to get a better view of the— oh shit.

it takes the raven-haired man a second to process what he's seeing before shuffling forward, closely examining the achingly red, bulging scratch marks displayed sexily across the latter's back and shoulders. "no way.."

suguru knows the strongest sorcerer well enough to notice how he purposely didn't use reversed cursed technique on these scratches, just so it'd be obvious to anyone that caught a glimpse of what exactly occured. to his further dismay, he can already picture a smug and sweaty gojo walking around their local gym like this, proud simper on his pretty lips as he easily raises a pair of weights in his veiny hands.

a hiss escapes geto's mouth as he runs his finger down a particularly agitated one, knowing exactly how painful they could be after experiencing many hook-ups of his own. even so, satoru only licks his lips, neck craning to the side so he can pride himself in his friend's gobsmacked expression.

"damn, these are deep. you actually hit it?" suguru confirms, raising a celebratory hand.

turning back around, satoru daps him up, a massive smirk now on both their faces. "hell yeah, it was amazing."

it was impossible to predict what gojo would do next after barging through his front door — especially considering how many times he's done so — but this has to be the last thing suguru ever expected.

not that he was complaining — in fact, all of geto's temper and need for relaxation seemingly flew out the window, the feeling of proudness for his best friend overthrowing anything else.

and even if he hated to admit it, the way gojo was so eager to come over and announce his virginity loss to him was more than a little endearing, and dare he say cute.

"that's great, man. congrats." suguru leads him into the kitchen — still shamelessly shirtless — to grab them both a can of beer in celebration. while the white-haired man usually didn't get involved with any form of alcohol, this occasion was most definitely exception-worthy. "you made y/n cum too, right?"

an offended glare is shot his way. "duh, two times."

"huh. surprised you could last."

as suguru pours their drinks into two fragile cups, gojo exhales, not bothered in the slightest by his jab. "dude, same.." he admits dreamily. "she was so fuckin' tight and warm.. and oh— fuck, her moans? heavenly.. 'can't believe i didn't bust after the first minute.."

geto gulps, trying his best to ignore the mental image his brain was producing from his dirty words. you can't blame him — both of you were smoking hot, and he was a simple man.

even now, he could already imagine what you both looked like; panting and moaning, skin-slapping so loud that it echoed through the whole room, how blissed out you'd look as gojo's cock split you in t—

satoru's playful sigh cuts through the tensing air. "who knows sugs, maybe you'll have another kind of stain to worry about next time we're over~"

he's never snapped out of a daydream so quickly. "don't even joke about that."

over the next hour, the two men sat manspread on the stained couch, taking leisure sips while recalling satoru's final moments as a virgin — suguru giving out his secret tips and tricks along the way.

maybe sometime, suguru could offer some.. hands-on learning instead.

mlist! <- sugu.. how could u think abt ur bestie and his gf like that... tsk tsk tsk (if u enjoyed reblogs/comments r appreciated heheh)

© inmaki on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[toji-girl]

tw for angst + you're mommaguro | part two

"I hear mommy crying every night." Megumi's little voice spoke up as he and Toji stood in line at the grocery store after he picked his son up from your studio apartment that wasn't far from his school.

Toji's eyes shifted down to the little boy who looked so much like him, feeling his heart twist at the thought of you so torn up over it all.

Once everything was on the belt and his wallet was pulled out, Toji looked at his son with a soft expression, unsure what to say or how to explain to him that he was the reason for it all.

Toji tried to be the best husband and father, but it seemed his family's shortcomings didn't cultivate a good childhood for him to learn how to be the man you needed him to be, and that killed him.

He followed his nature unknowingly, ruining his relationship with you, and now he was struggling with how to reply to the bomb that was dropped on him in a public place.

Being only eight years old, Megumi was attuned to his surroundings and had a sharp eye when it came to stuff like that with you, all in all, he's a momma boy, and seeing you like that hurts his little heart.

You always waited until he was asleep, or so you thought before breaking down into a fit of tears and not letting your weathering storm get him wet as well.

It's only been less than a year since the divorce and you still spent your time healing from it and the loss of the man you learned to love despite the sharp edges he still held up in defense even though you were the only person who was never against him, always for though.

Toji's scars were too deep to heal fully and even though you tried to bandage him it held up for a little until it didn't. "How about we go back and see mommy for a little bit? That would make her happy."

Seeing Megumi's face light up knowing he would see you again made his heart ache with jealousy.

You've always been the default parent even though Toji tried to help his best, it seemed his son really didn't care for him, just his momma.

Twenty minutes later Toji stood at your door knocking on it as Megumi held the bags hearing you shuffle and sniffle as you came closer to open the door seeing your ex-husband and son holding a few bags that were filled with all your favorites.

"Momma!" Megumi cried as he dropped his sack to wrap his arms around your legs hugging you tightly as you looked at him then Toji who shrugged wanting to reach out to comfort you, instead another voice came from behind you, a very familiar one too, his co-workers.

[sixthwater]

I’ve been having a fun fight with my intuition and wondering if it’s glitching out for like a minute now bc of mixed signals but it’s Very nice to know that for two straight weeks it’s had a Golden record when it comes to being right LMAO

[sensitivegoblin]

Lmao another vent