Tw Cursing - Tumblr Posts
I constantly think about the fact that characters have bodily functions.
Like.
All For One has taken a massive, toilet-gripping, butt-clenching shit before.
Aizawa has absolutely ripped out a huge fucking stinker.
All Might has fhrown up :(
What about All Might absolutely DESTROYING a toilet in his muscle form.
He stops using the toilets in that form after that.
Do y'all think that heroes have, like. diapers in their costumes to keep them from shitting their pants?
It would make sense. They see a bunch of life-threatening situations, some of them are bound to lose control of their bladders.
Just things I think about.
Imagine if reincarnation was/is real and everyone had their past life shown on top of their head like a stupid tiktok pov. Now imagine being a very sheltered 3 year old, one day you get sick of staying inside so you escape the house and you see a dark blue car waiting for you, and a nice man inviting you in. As you enter the car the doors lock and you hear the man mutter under his breath “you cant escape the law, fucker.” And you spend the next 25 years of your life in jail for suicide bombing, like damn googoo gaga
my fucking game crashed when i was decorating the nursery for my whimsy save 😭
it was turning out so cute too like wtf
Ok but like if they all came back to life, I feel like it could go one of two directions with how the choir reacts afterward
They could either never bring up what happened with Karnak because it was like too painful or something
Or it could go in the complete opposite direction with them constantly bringing up what happened, usually to make fun of each other
Like one day this one teacher is being a huge jackass so when the teacher asks if they have any fun facts they’d like to share with the class Noel just stands up and goes “When a lioness has children-“
Ocean and Constance are desperately trying not to laugh
Mischa makes it a personal game to call as many people as possible a spielverderber
Somebody is talking for a really long time during a presentation and when it’s over Ricky just signs “And that is why not everyone should have a library card!” while Mischa just tries to not burst out laughing
Penny will sometimes recite Ricky’s Silver Surfer speech just so she can laugh about it later when people are like “Wow. So deep 🥲”
Sometimes you’ll just hear one of them humming everyone’s songs
The funniest time this has happened is when Noel caught Ocean humming “This Song Is Awesome”
Constance bakes everyone Zolar themed cupcakes and they’re so good
00 liners
Felix: You are a lying, cheating, piece of shit
Seungmin: And you are a liar who thinks they can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD
Jisung: I'm leaving, you guys suck!
Hyunjin *picking up the monopoly board*: I think we should stop playing now
i hope this doesn’t sound really weird but i feel really bad for the lady who came up with gender reveal parties. she had a very legitimate reason for throwing herself one–she’d had a few miscarriages, all of them miscarrying before she was able to find out the sex of her baby and due to really wanting to have children she was distraught, so when her pregnancy made it to the milestone of being able to find out her baby’s sex, she was understandably incredibly excited and threw a party to celebrate it. honestly she had every right to do so and was more celebrating the fact that she’d carried her baby to that point rather than celebrating if it was a girl or a boy
and now she’s the inventor of this horrible thing that makes stupid people cause wildfires. all this lady wanted to do was have some cake and celebrate her pregnancy after a few miscarriages. i feel fucking terrible for her.
You’ve probably seen the One Second of Every Simpsons Episode video by now but may I introduce you to it’s more subdued but equally chaotic cousin: One Second of Every Frasier Episde
I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE, Y'ALL NEED TO LEARN TO TAG Y'ALL'S SHIT PROPERLY, IT AIN'T THAT HARD TO PUT A “TW NAKED PEOPLE” ON YO TAGS, I AM LITERALLY UNABLE TO GO ON THE QUEER TAGS THAT AIN'T ASPEC JUST TO SEE UNTAGGED HORNY WITHOUT MY FUCKING CONSENT, I CAN'T DEAL WITH Y'ALL ANYMORE, YOUR CRUSTY ASS HAND WON'T FALL OFF IF YOU TAG YOUR SMUT, YOU GRINGO PUNHETEIRO, FUDIDO DU CARALHO, I HATE UNTAGGED SMUT I HATE UNTAGGED SMUT I HATE UNTAGGED SMUT I HATE
Category: smut, angst
Warnings: smoking, sort of jjk spoilers but not really stated clearly, angsty, cursing, gojo being smitten is a warning of it’s own
Summary: Your ability allows you to see visions of the future. Once you see your lover dead, you can’t help but want to pull away and keep him safe
***
Satoru awakes when the sun is about to rise and colour the world in molten gold. It’s not a peaceful awakening, not the usual smell of coffee you brewed after slipping out of his grasp in the early hours of the morning and not the sound of you humming a melody only known to you.
Your screams tug at the strings of his heart in a way he didn’t even think was possible and before he’s even fully awake, his muscular arms reach out to wrap themselves around you, their goal to comfort and to ground you. He was still here and you were still safe.
Your eyes flutter open and closed like the wings of a butterfly, breathing erratic and uneven.
Gojo was always a selfish man and how could he not be if almost everyone worshipped not only him but the ground he walked on. A god amongst mortals, an angel meant to erase the sins of the humanity. Right now, he would do anything to take your pain away, to ease the trembling of your cold hands and calm down the way your heart is beating too fast.
A worse side of your technique, being able to summon anything you dreamed of last night, were the obscure visions of the future.
He’s learned not to ask right after, to allow you time to calm down and get your voice back. He’s more worried about you than curious about the future. A fleeting thought that this would never be the case for anyone else but you comes and goes.
When you do finally speak, your voice is croaky and barely audible, muttered into his dark shirt.
“You were dead.”
Three short words and his hands that have been stroking your back softly, freeze. Satoru thinks he misheard you. The idea of him dying is simply ridiculous. Who would be able to kill the strongest sorcerer alive? Sure, he’s had his doubts about Sukuna, but he’s certain he’d win if it came down to it.
“Darling, are you sure that it was me? Your visions are often unclear.”
Is all he thinks to say and his hands come back to your back, motions slow and comforting. Satoru doesn’t want you to know that his heart skipped a beat, that he’s a tad bit worried, ever since your visions about Nanami came true. Ever since all your interferences with the future proved to be fruitless. Ever since they had no body to bury.
Your face finally lifts up, chin resting on his chest, eyes red-rimmed and tearful. His hand touches your cheek and it’s hot to the touch.
“It was the clearest one I’ve ever had, Satoru.” you take a moment to gather your thoughts, to take a deep breath. The vision is engrained into your mind, playing over and over like a broken record. “I tr- fuck, tried to save you and it didn’t work. Nothing worked, I couldn’t- I was too weak to save you.”
And you burst into tears again, soft, heaving sobs slipping past your soft lips. If Satoru thought that it had hurt before, he doesn’t know what to compare this to. He briefly thinks of Suguru, but ultimately brushes it off.
He mumbles your name and kisses your forehead as softly as he can manage. All he knows is violence and fighting and surviving, but with you, he manages to hide all the ragged edges just enough.
“Ah.” Is all Satoru says for a moment, a hum of acknowledgement. He’s speechless for a moment as his worst suspicions are suddenly confirmed. Satoru doesn’t have to dwell on the thought that he cares more about what happens to you than to him. “What happens to you… In this vision?”
You slowly blink up at him, eyes glazed for a moment. He recognises that expression as you trying to recall every single detail of the vision. It’s so bittersweet, Satoru thinks, that you don’t even remember seeing yourself in that vision, only caring about him.
Soon, you come back to him, brows furrowed and expression drowned in worry.
“I try to heal you and… And I don’t even notice Sukuna coming back behind me. It hurts, for a bit, and then it’s dark. The vision ends.”
Gojo swallows and closes his eyes for a moment. What is he supposed to say? His jaw is tense, and when his eyes open again, he finds you even more worried than before.
“Love… Listen, that’s not going to happen, alright? I’ll make sure of it.”
He rewards you with one more kiss on your forehead as if that would help. He’d like to think that, but he finds himself horribly mistaken when you slip out of his grasp. You’re still only in your shirt and underwear, the only accessories being the bruises left on your hips that are now covered.
You rummage through the drawers and he sits up to observe. Your still trembling hands reach for a pack of cigarettes and a baby pink lighter. Gojo never liked you doing that. He never cared for alcohol and nicotine, choosing to see his body as a temple.
He worshipped you a lot, whispering prayers of your name a lot more than prayers he would in a temple, but clearly not enough.
“You really think death isn’t coming to us? Even after Shibuya?”
You shook your head and slipped out to the large balcony attached to the bedroom. Everything in his apartment was expensive and you often complained about feeling out of place. Of course, Satoru thought that you were right where you’re supposed to be.
When he climbs out of bed, he doesn’t need to shake away the sleep. It’s like a second nature to follow you out, the cold air of the early morning biting at his skin. He always has his infinity off when with you. Satoru doesn’t want you to feel like you could ever be denied the comfort of his touch.
He finds you smoking. The white trails leave your lips and disappear into the air as if they were never there. He finds himself at a loss of words once again. A strange and foreign feeling.
Satoru’s arms wrap around your waist and he slumps his large body over you like an oversized heated blanket. For you, he can ignore the smell of the cigarettes.
“Darling, please, listen. There’s nothing that could stop me from protecting you. I won’t let anyone harm you, ever.”
Satoru is careful not to say ‘as long as I’m alive’, bites his tongue to not let it slip. If this vision proves to be as truthful as your prior ones, he might have to reconsider the promises before making them.
You take another long drag before sighing softly. He doesn’t know that you’re also reconsidering your words.
“I don’t care about what happens to me, Satoru. You die.”
And your words hurt, he can feel the physical pain in his chest, his heart clenching. How could you ever say that? How could you put his life above yours? So many would, so many would disregard another sorcerer’s life for his, but never you. At the start of the relationship, he had made it clear that you were equals. Everything was back to base one.
“Please.” he’s used to people begging him, worshipping him, not the other way around. Once again, he is reminded, that for you he can be mortal, ordinary and nothing special. A normal person without the weight of the whole sorcerer society depending on him. “I’m begging you to not say such things. How can you disregard your life just like that?”
You stay quiet for a while and then put out your cigarette, turning to him. He notices the tears in your eyes and his immediate instinct is to wipe them off. He wants to give you space, though so he stays glued to the floor.
“I think my visions are not a warning. A warning would mean that the future could be changed, for better or for worse, anyway. We have tried so many times.” the words are quiet and your tone utterly defeated. You’re similar to a kicked dog right now. Yet, your eyes rise up and you come back to the hand that feeds. “We’ve tried so many times and It has never suceeded. Nanamin is still dead, Sukuna is still alive. It’s a curse more than a gift.”
Gojo wants to wish it all away. Your pain and your sorrows, your worries and your decreasing self-worth. He knows that there is nothing he can do to stop your mind from spiralling.
He whispers your name but you don’t allow him to speak, your hands raised.
“I think it’s just like… Someone saying to me ‘here is your future, take it and deal with it’ and…”
This time, Satoru is the one not allowing you to finish your words. He can’t listen to this anymore, can’t listen to this unchangable future shit. The future is always shifting, things are always happening and transforming the events, preventing them from happening and creating new ones.
“So that’s it? You’re accepting your fate and not trying to change it? And you’re fine with that?”
He can’t keep his voice from rising in volume, pretty, perfect face scrunched up. Satoru doesn’t know how to shake sense into you, how to make you see that you both can still change the future, prevent your deaths.
“I am fine.”
Is all you say, before putting the cigarette out and slipping back inside. Your skin is covered in goosebumps. His feet follow you before his mind can catch up.
“You clearly are not.” Satoru says as you pace around the room, not knowing what to do with yourself. He’s right behind you. It’s an instinct to try to calm you down. “Will you just listen to me? Nothing’s happening to me, or you. Fuck the future, fuck everything.”
You finally fall into his arms, but Satoru doesn’t dare sigh in relief. You’re about to say something again, and he’s about to give you more logical arguments. A cursed circle that never stops running. What can he even do to stop it?
“I think… I think that you’re a god, and I’m your dog.” you say and Satoru’s voice hitches in his throat. What was going on in your head right now, to make you say something like that, to even think something like that. “You tell me to stop worrying and I do, you demand me to calm down and I listen. Ultimately, you tell me to jump and I ask you ‘how high?’.”
Satoru freezes, the hands that held you limp by his sides as he pulls away. It was so completely unlike you, so unnatural. The visions have completely broken you and he doesn’t know how to bring you back, he really doesn’t, god he doesn’t know what to do.
“You are my dog?” he repeats, his tone harsher than before as he fails to wrap his head around the idea that you could say such a thing. “Are you still dizzy from your visions or are you taking a shot at making me upset?”
He shakes his head and pulls away from you, his large hands on your shoulders.
“It’s the truth.” you respond, avoiding his harsh gaze, pretending not to notice the weight of his hands on your shoulders.
“Well, I think your truth is stupid.” he retorts, hands shaking as he pulls them away from you, as if your skin burned him.
“And I think you should leave me.”
The words leave you and it’s like the time stops for Satoru. It’s a punch to his ego. Does he not love you enough? Not cherish you enough? Do you see him as the kind of man that would leave as soon as things got hard? How foolish, how utterly stupid.
“What are you saying now?” he all but yells, his temper no longer controlled as you look up at him with those teary eyes. What can he even do? What is he supposed to do?
Your whole body is shaking as you turn away from him. “In my vision, you died saving me. Leaving me can change the future.”
And suddenly, it all clicks for him. Why you were so insistant to push him away, why you seemed so hopeless. Protecting him by hurting yourself. How completely selfless, how utterly stupid.
“Oh, honey that’s…” he pulls you to him, wrapping his body around you until there’s nothing but him. His pretty girl is in tears. his pretty, perfect girl hurting. “I would never leave you, my love. Never once in a million lifetimes. I’m yours, darling, and you’re mine. We talked about the red string theory once and I’m afraid that I’m tied to you, hm?”
It’s not a question and he’s trailing kisses down your exposed neck. Your arms raise up on instinct and Satoru slips your, well, his shirt off of you. He knows you need him right now, to bring you back, to assure you, once again, that he’s yours, that he’ll stay despite everything.
Satoru lays you down on the bed as if you’re the most precious treasure and you look up at him, with those wide eyes, handing him your trust along with your heart.
“My pretty girl, my perfect girl.” he drawls, pressing kisses along your exposed chest and down your belly, until he reaches your underwear, playfully biting the little bow on them. “Can I take these off?”
You nod, but that’s not enough for him and he nips at the skin of your thigh, causing you to yelp. “Words, pretty girl.”
“Yes.” you answer, after a beat of silence.
And he’s granted heaven. Satoru slides off your underwear and tosses them somewhere into the room. More soft kisses follow and your breath hitches when his lips kiss where you need him most.
His skilled tongue flicks over your clit and your back immediately arches off of the bed. Coming down from so many emotions and reaching so many new ones left you more sensitive than ever.
Gojo chuckles and repeats the motion, before obliging your quiet whine with a practiced clockwise motion. He repeats the motion a few more times, revelling at the taste of you and the sound of your whines and soft moans. His pretty pretty girl.
He carefully enters one finger into you and immediately finds the spot that has you gasping. With each motion, he brings you back to himself, back to being completely his, none of that silly nonsense you were spewing before. He adds another, when he deems you wet enough.
Two of his fingers are already so much more than yours could ever be and the way his tongue keeps flicking over your clit in all the right ways has you moaning his name like a prayer. Truly, he’s the one praying to you.
“Ngh- Sa-Satoru, I-“
You don’t need to finish your sentence in order for him to know what you’ll say next. The flutter of your eyelashes and the way you squeeze his fingers so hard that he’s barely able to move them in and out is a telltale sign.
“You can cum, pretty girl. Mm, my pretty girl.”
He mumbles and then his tongue gets back to it’s former movements. You come with a high-pitched whine and he’s glad to finally taste you. Ambrosia couldn’t compare.
You come back down from your high and he’s already hovering over you, mouth wiped clean as he presses a bunch of butterfly kisses over your skin, anything he can touch.
He’s content with just pleasing you, with having you even a step closer to him. Back to where you are supposed to be. What a silly thought, that he’d ever consider leaving you when he looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, the way he has never looked at anyone else.
Your eyes open and focus on him as you kiss him back, as soft as you can manage. Your hands bury into his hair and you have the adoring look back in your gaze. Even if it’s for a little while, before your worries start up again, he’s content.
“Want more, Toru, want you.”
Satoru swears that his eyes light up once he hears your words. You’re taking another step towards him, you’re almost back to him. “Are you sure, my love?”
You nod eagerly and it’s enough for him to take his clothes off. Your eyes are focused on his strong body, the sculpted muscles, the light hair that trails from his bellybutton right to his length.
He lays over you, careful not to let his weight fall onto you, always so careful with you. He rubs his cock over your pussy, covering it with your slick, attentive to make the intrusion as easy and pleasurable as possible.
He’s careful when he slides the tip in yet you still let out a soft whine. Satoru is a big man, towering over everyone no matter what room he’s in, it only makes sense that his cock is big, too. Doesn’t really help that he’s quite gifted on top of that.
“I know, I know, yeah. Hold onto me, darling. Mm, my love is doing so well.”
He feeds inch after inch of his large cock into you, watching your reactions deliberately, making sure not to hurt you.
Both you and Satoru moan when his pelvis meets yours, the sensation euphoric. His thrusts start out slow. He pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back in. Your head falls back onto the pillow as your moans get louder. He’s the only man who’s able to fuck you like this, to reach all the spots inside of you that make your eyes water.
“Do you feel good, darling? Am I making my perfect girl feel good.”
Your hands go over to cover your face and he tuts, pulling them away and gathering your wrists in one of his hands. It never fails to surprise you on how big they are. He, however, wants to see every reaction and hear every sound leaving you.
“Y-Yes, so good, feels so good.” You manage between loud moans. Screw the neighbours, Satoru thinks, screw everyone who isn’t you and him.
“Yeah? I feel good, too. So good, baby, so good. You’re perfect for me, the gods created you for me, yeah? So no more nonsense about me leaving.”
Your face heats up and back arches. His words reach you and then float around your otherwise empty mind.
His thrusts get quicker and less calculated as his head is thrown back. A quiet sigh of contentment leaves his pretty, glossy lips.
“Yeah, that’s right. No one. But us. Exists. Right now.” Satoru punctuates each little word with a deep thrust, breaths uneven, eyes closed in pleasure. “And we’ll overwrite the future if need be. If it means I get to stay. Then so be it.”
Another long, languid thrust and you come, nails dragging over his back as he spills into you, filling you with warmth.
You both take a moment to catch your breaths and soon, Satoru rolls off of you, his softened dick slipping out. He pulls you close to himself and presses a kiss to your forehead as you’re dozing off.
“Meant what I said. I’m staying and you won’t get rid off me, yeah? I love you more than I love anyone else, would die for you, kill for you… Perfect girl, my perfect girl.”
Satoru is not sure if you hear him before falling asleep, but he’ll be sure to remind you, should you ever forget again.
magic frog nd its magic spell
I've been battling my whole life with trying to find a place for myself that didn't hurt. I would dress up real pretty to go to church and smile while adults touched me when I did not want them to and gave me hugs and kisses on the cheek and told me how proud they were of me. Stale smelling older men who stood just a bit too close and held on a bit too long to a little girl. I was just a doll to all of them, and if it wasn't for them knowing my mama, they never would have cared about me.
My job as a little Christian girl was to look nice, act nice, listen to my parents no matter what, serve God, and most importantly: shut the fuck up. If I wasn't being talked to or cooed at, I was to sit there quietly, looking pretty and waiting until I was useful again as a prop.
I grew up constantly afraid and always more excited to find a new cozy hiding spot in my home than to see my dad back from work. 4pm, every day, I knew where to be, and it was nowhere near the front door, just in case he had a bad day and came in with itchy fists.
I always had my nose in a book from the time I was able to read at age 4 to when I finally learned to live in my actual reality. I wanted nothing but to escape. All the adults around me found it cute that I was so studious and smart and encouraged my escapism, for which I am grateful.
I clawed my way, alone, out of addiction to things that would have eventually killed me and away from the thought that that was taking too long and I should get it over with. I quietly went through an identity crisis every other day before deciding it wasn't worth trying to find a label that fit for sure. I stood my ground when my parents found pictures of me kissing my girlfriend at a school dance that I had forgotten to hide away on my phone. I protected my older brother from my parents' ridicule as he was dying in a hospital bed after trying to kill himself with me, a child, in the same room. I will never be able to forget that as long as I live, the sound my father made when he came into the room and the sight of so much blood.
I've been through hell my whole life, things that could have been prevented if only several horrible people and horrible institutions had been told what they were doing was wrong. If they had been forced to fix the way they thought and forced to put away their fists, most of the horrible things I had to go through would never have had to happen in the first place.
And I will not stand by after I have finally found a place I belong, with people who understand me, while we are being told we don't belong anywhere but with ourselves and told we don't exist in the first place. Even worse when so much of this hate is coming from communities that little me looked up to with stars in their eyes; feminists who fight against the very things that had made my life hell! The LGBTQ+ community itself, where I'd been told that everyone who didn't belong at least belonged there!
Why the fuck is this an issue worth sending teenagers and well-meaning regular joes death threats over and deciding that the authority over other people's identities should come down to popular vote? Who the fuck cares if I don't look at a person most people find hot and want to have sex with them? Who the fuck cares that it takes me a very very very long time to fall in love with someone, if I ever do, and that I don't care much at all for dating or romance for myself?
Why is this such a big issue that deserves negative attention? Am I hurting anyone? Am I risking someone's life I don't know about? Because to my knowledge, all I've been doing is reblogging funny memes on my phone, hanging out with my friends, going to class when necessary, drinking too much tea, and just generally living a normal, boring life!
If you think trying to scare me and mine off the internet and earth for good after all the shit I've been through will be worth your time, you are wrong. We did nothing wrong. We aren't hurting anyone, and last I checked, it seems a stupid waste of time to go boo-hooing around the internet about people who don't have the same relationship with love and sex as you do. I can guarantee that there are plenty of people who aren't aromantic or asexual and also have an irregular relationship with one or both of those things.
Get the fuck over yourself and go do something that makes you happy instead of being a cyberbully and a bigot.
And let me sip my tea in fuckin peace.
SEE?!
ITS NOT THE END OF THE GODDAMN WORLD, JESUS CHRIST.
SO QUIT YOUR BITCHING, THE TRAILER WASNT EVEN THAT BAD, FOR FUCKS SAKE.
SMH...
FLYING BARK IS NOT GONE: about the trailer animation
PLEASE DO NOT SPREAD THE IDEA THAT FLYING BARK WAS REPLACED.
THIS IS FALSE.
Flying Bark made the decision to outsource additional animation, this includes things like trailers and promos- not the actual show. this decision was made because Flying Bark is also currently working on the upcoming animated ATLA movie, and they needed to lessen their workload. Flying Bark is still handling the animation of the actual episodes and specials, they just needed some breathing room and got that by giving some of the less important responsibilities- like promos and trailers- to someone else for the time being.
the animation isn't even bad, there's no need to act like this is the end of the world and start acting like everything will be changed forever. though I will give some of ya'll the benefit of the doubt and say you probably didn't know these details, but we shouldn't have jumped to conclusions anyway.
edit: there is a post saying that Wildbarin has a deal for two seasons + specials of LMK, this was a misread, the site this info was taken from was mentioning the already existing content for LMK on Amazon Kids+. the deal wildbrain was, again, for the additional animation. Please do not harass this blog if you see the post however.
PLEASE REBLOG AND SHARE THIS REPOST TO OTHER SITES IF NEEDED
SPREAD THE WORD
I love reading about characters getting into mischief and causing chaos. This was so nice to read!!
Flash Fiction #93 Prompt: Broken Windows
Another bout of self-indulgent TSS writing thanks to @flashfictionfridayofficial!
Bar Fight
Word Count: 882
TW/CW: violence, alcohol mention, cursing
Synopsis: The post-book 1 Karics have chosen violence tonight. (Mentions a book 1 climax spoiler).
It was one of Emry’s favorite nights in Senne- which was to say, it was as cold as hell.
Snowflakes drifted lazily downward, melting on his shoulders and on Marley’s gloves as she walked with him along the frozen canal. The frigid air, thankfully undisturbed by any sharp wind, refreshed him with every breath. Between the snow, the chill, and the stars above, he had half a mind to take another lap around the canal before heading home.
If only his legs were up to the task.
“How are you feeling?” Marley frowned up at him as he winced and grabbed the snow-dusted stone barrier that ran along the canal. His grip tightened on the cane he had borrowed from Nana.
“Fine.” The word came out automatically. Marley sighed.
“No, come on, we’ve talked about this. How are you actually feeling?”
He leaned against the stone to take some weight off the ache in his legs.
“It all still hurts,” he muttered. “Thought I would’ve recovered by now. S’been, what, a month?”
“Well, you were asleep for the first quarter of that.” Marley hugged his arm. “And no one else has been possessed by a spirit and lived. Cut yourself some slack.”
“Hm.” He pushed himself back up onto the support of the cane. He hadn’t cut himself any slack in three years. “Think we can head back? I’m sure Georgie and Aspen have beat us home from the tavern, with how slowly I’ve been walking.”
Marley was about to turn him around when a frenzy of shouts, glass, and cracking wood careened out of the building ahead of them.
“Out!” someone boomed. Both Emry and Marley flinched when an empty glass bottle crashed through the window and shattered on the cobblestones, glittering shards skidding along the ice.
“Yeah, out!” A vine of thorns whipped another bottle through the hole in the window.
Emry and Marley looked each other in horror.
“I don’t think they beat us home.”
Keep reading
You absolutely roasted Councilmen in the beginning and I was not ready for that
TSS Snippet: Garden Fire
Aka, ‘Let Aspen Say Fuck’ Scenario #2:
Emry was on the cusp of drifting into a lovely nap- on a sun-warmed couch and just after having a snack, no less- when the smell of smoke jarred his nose.
For a moment, he considered ignoring it. He hadn’t touched the fireplace recently, had lit no candles. Surely everything was fine, and these cushions were just so nice and warm-
“Fuck!”
He jolted up and fell off the sofa.
“Aspen?” His head whipped around for the source of the curse. He couldn’t hear any footsteps inside the house, nor an echo of their voice in the halls- they must be in the garden. With a groan, he scrambled to his feet and sprinted outside.
“What’s happening- Aspen!” He skidded to a halt at the back door.
The rose bushes were on fire, and Aspen was darting between them and the birdbath in the center of the garden, cupping water in their hands and tossing it onto the burning leaves. The splashes fizzled and smoked with all the effectiveness of a Councilman’s thoughts and prayers.
Keep reading