#aspens mug

[thornestar]

Going to see my good friend’s metal band and some psychedelic Japanese music!!!

They are staring at 5pm and this is exciting because my illness is worse in the evenings and I usually can’t sit up long enough to go to a show.

I’m so excited but I’m trying to calm my ass down so I don’t get worn out before we even leave the house 🙀🙀🙀🙀🙀🙀

[buckets-and-trees]

What You Want

Characters/Pairings: lawyer!Bucky x curvy!female assistant reader Word Count: 2.7k Summary: Your boss, powerful lawyer Bucky Barnes, insisted he needed his indispensable assistant to accompany him on his trip to Norway. He also promised he would have you home in time for Christmas, but the weather decided to strike its wrath and decimate international travel, leaving you stranded for a few more days.

Content Warnings: modern AU, slight power dynamic, periphery/secular reference to the Christmas holiday, vaginal fingering, use of "plum" as a term of endearment

Logistical Notes: Written for @sstan-hoe Vee's Holly Jolly Challenge - I was given a selection of prompts including "That noise...keep making it," reindeer, and lawyer/assistant power dynamics. Also my December entry for @buckybarnesevents Build-a-Bucky-Bingo using the FLASHBACKS prompt. Divider by @saradika.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You heard the door open and close behind you and then familiar footsteps approaching, but you didn’t turn to look, instead keeping your eyes on the beauty of the frozen wilderness on display before you.

“Peace offering?” Bucky spoke as he stepped up beside you at the rail of the balcony, holding one of two steaming mugs in his hands toward you.

You sighed but gave him a small smile and took the mug. “You don’t need to apologize. You’re a very powerful man, Bucky, but I’m relatively sure you don’t control the weather.”

“Not yet, but I’m trying to pull some strings,” he said with a smirk, and you smiled.

“It’s not your fault we can’t get a flight back to the States when a blizzard has taken out half the Eastern Seaboard.”

It was unlikely that even with all of James Buchanan Barnes’ considerable lawyering power and money that he would be able to get you back home before Christmas. The main international airports in New England would have to live through the record raging blizzard, dig out, and then there would be hundreds of thousands of passengers to accommodate in and out of the country. Reasonably your guess was that you wouldn’t be returning until as early as the day after Christmas at the earliest.

“I should still apologize though. I said I would have you home for Christmas.”

You took a sip of the hot coffee. “You should apologize, but you’re not.”

He smiled. “No, I’m not.”

He turned and looked out over the forest and frozen tundra with you, the snow sparkling by the moonlight. This side of the resort hotel Bucky had booked the two of you into looked out over the wilderness.

“How long are you going to stay out here?”

“Until I see a reindeer. You brought me to Norway in December. I want to see a wild reindeer.”

“Fair enough.”

After a few more minutes, Bucky spoke again. “Are you sure you don’t want to eat, though? They said our accommodations should be ready after dinner.”

It had been a bit of a feat to find any place this close to Christmas that wasn’t closed or completely booked, but Bucky had managed to find this place that although they said they didn’t have a place immediately available, they had late check outs that just needed to be cleaned and refreshed for new guests.

“It’s a very fine restaurant.”

“Alright, let’s go eat.”

“If that will be all for the evening, I’ll be happy to escort you to your suite, Mr. Barnes,” the maître d’ said. He had been attentive all evening, but being with Bucky on this business trip you had quickly learned only the most excellent service was a common thing for him.

“Yes, thank you, I think we’re finished,” Bucky replied, looking to you, and you nodded. You both scooted your chairs back from the table and then followed the man out of the restaurant, through the hotel lobby, past the bar, past the observatory lounge and balcony you’d visited earlier, and to a pair of elevators.

Dinner had been quiet, but not an uneasy quiet by any means for the two of you. Bucky was an intimidating man, power emanating from him very naturally, but after the first few weeks as his assistant, you had gotten over your nerves. After sitting with him through many lunches, plenty of meetings, taking notes from him on cases and projects, and a fair few late nights, you had grown comfortable around him, learned that he could be easy to talk to, but didn’t strive to fill a silence for conversation’s sake, something you appreciated.

The hotel Bucky had found was an upscale, moderately sized wilderness and ski lodge. When you arrived on the fifth and top floor, there was a cozy hallway that only boasted three doors, and you were led to the one at the very end, where the man unlocked the door, stepped in to hold it open, and then handed the key to Bucky.

“If you should need anything at all, simply pick up the phone and our staff will assist you,” he said. “Have a good evening, and we hope you enjoy your stay, even though we know it was unexpected for the holiday.”

“Thank you, dinner was fantastic, and the place looks wonderful, you’ve been great, Lucas. Have a good night,” Bucky said, and pressed what you were sure was a generous tip into the man’s hand.

All your and Bucky’s things had been left neatly to one side of the entry of the suite. A quick look around revealed that there were two rooms off either side of the spacious sitting area as well as a small kitchen and bar, and on the far side full floor to ceiling windows and a balcony. You had hoped for two rooms like you’d had at the previous hotel, but two rooms in a suite would be perfectly fine, especially since the stunning view out of the sitting room’s windows wasn’t the only beauty in the place. There was a fireplace with a gorgeous mantle with a roaring fire already ablaze and a stunning Christmas tree with gorgeous trimmings in the Scandinavian style.

“It’ll do, yes?” Bucky asked, watching you take in the beauty of the tree.

You smiled warmly at him, then looked back at the tree. “Yes, it’ll do just fine.” The sitting room was spacious and rivaled your cozy studio apartment back home for size. You stepped further into the suite. “Do you want to take a look at the rooms and pick which one you want?” you asked. All the trip was on the company’s expense account, and as his assistant, although you suspected he might be a gentleman and offer you the better room, you would defer to Bucky to actually pick.

“We’ll share whichever one is better,” he said with a shrug.

You scoffed. “No, there are two rooms in this gorgeous suite, I’m sure they’re both fantastic, I don’t mind taking the one you don’t want. Might even sleep on the couch so I can stay by the tree and look out those windows all night.”

He chuckled, low, and suddenly at your back. “You misunderstand me, plum,” he said, placing his hands on the curve of your hips and pressing his chest up against your back. He leaned in to speak the next words directly in your ear. “I’m having you in my bed tonight.”

Your breath caught.

You couldn’t move, and a soft, “Mr. Barnes,” was all you could say.

“Aw, none of that, plum, you haven’t called me Mr. Barnes for months, and I won’t it happening again now.”

“We shouldn’t,” you tried to protest, but even as you said the words, a traitorous part of you didn’t put much feeling behind them.

“Shouldn’t we? You’re smart enough to know I didn’t really need to bring you on this trip with me, but I wanted to. Didn’t want to go that long without seeing you, wanted you by my side in a charming Nordic country during the height of its festive season, and you said yes, like the perfect assistant that you are. I told myself that was enough, didn’t go knocking on your door any of the nights we were at our first hotel, kept it professional despite wanting more and more of you every day we spent together away from the office.”

His hand moved from your hips to circle around your front, his left moving over your soft stomach over to the other side to rest over the front of your right hip, and his right further up your torso, his hand brushing the underside of your breast and resting firmly just below it, bringing you flush against him.

“Fate won’t let me get you home for Christmas, so why deny what it’s dangling right in front of me now?”

He pressed his lips to the sensitive spot just below your ear, and a small whimper escaped your throat.

“Let me have what I want,” he murmured, leaving a slow trail of more kisses down your neck. “I know you want it, too.”

“I – no, I don’t – I”

It was impossible to put up the words of protest when he licked the shell of your ear. You shivered in his arms instead.

“Let me ruin my perfect girl,” he pressed, slipping the hand that was at your hip into the waistband of your trousers. His hand stopped when his fingers met the lace edge of your panties. He turned you around abruptly and kissed you full on the mouth, cupping your face with both hands so you had no choice but to take the heat of his kiss, and the flame he’d been sparking started to catch more dangerously in your core.

He had somehow maneuvered you further into the sitting room so that when he suddenly broke off the kiss, you were in the middle of the space, the warm glow of the fire and the tree lights casting over you both.

Bucky stepped back, and you frowned in confusion, still breathless. He trailed a finger up the column of your throat to the tip of your chin, his blue eyes dark and hungry. “Undress,” he said.

He moved to the couch and sat, his eyes returning to you as he settled in.

“Undress,” he repeated.

That commanding tone struck another spark right to your cunt. You knew you were already growing wet for him.

You toed off your shoes one at a time, then took off your socks – those requiring you to move a little less elegantly than you wanted with his searing gaze on you. Standing aright again, your hands moved to the button of your trousers, fingers trembling since you had never stripped in front of anyone before. You weren’t a virgin, but although the partners you had been with before had been eager to have you naked, none had ever asked you to undress for them like this, like they wanted to see your full figure, not just fuck it.

Bucky spoke your name in a way that had you pause and look up at him again.

He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “You know I pride myself on my instincts. I think we both want this, but there are two rooms here.”

You bit your lip.

He was offering the veiled choice if you wanted it.

Your mind raced with flashbacks of conversations and thoughts you’d had over the past few weeks clear back to the first few meetings with your boss.

Insisting to your mother that your boss did absolutely need you to fly with him to Norway to assist him with meetings with an international client the week before Christmas.

Your best friend insisting on a shopping trip for your fancy work trip to a foreign country “because if your hot boss isn’t going to seduce you, have a foreign fling!”

Your heart stuttering the first time your eyes met your boss’s deep blues the day you interviewed with him.

The same eyes that were riveted on you now.

On you.

You unbuttoned your trousers and lowered the zipper. You glanced down as the fell to the floor, then stepped carefully out of them. When you looked back up, you saw even more hunger in Bucky’s eyes, and it warmed your blood. Looking right into those eyes, you reached for the hem of your sweater and lifted it up and over your head, letting it drop to the floor as well.

“Mmm,” he hummed in approval. “C’m’ere,” he beckoned, sitting back on the couch again, but beckoning you into his lap as he watched your every move.

You concentrated on his eyes and on keeping your breathing steady. When you were close enough for him to reach for you, he held out his hand. You took it and let him pull you gently down to straddle your legs on either side of his.

“My perfect plum,” he murmured. His hands moved up your thighs, over your hips, up your waist, and back down.

“Your plum?” you asked, watching his face as his eyes roved over you up close.

“My perfect plum - I want to savor every delicious curve of your body,” he said before dropping a kiss to the top of your breast. Your hands went to his shoulders to steady yourself. “When I felt that lace of your underwear, I thought maybe you did want this, too.” His lips moved to the other breast where he kissed the exposed skin, then traced his tongue along the edge of the lacy cup, causing you to shiver. “There isn’t any other reason you would be wearing such pretty lingerie, is there?”

“No,” you admitted immediately.

“Just for me,” he said as he moved his hand to your mound and immediately slipped a finger beneath the fabric to stroke along your folds, making you gasp. “Good girl, already wet for me.”

You keened as his finger traced your warm hole but didn’t go in, instead taking the slick there and pressing it up over your folds. He continued tracing them up and down before moving up to find your clit, knowing he found it the second your head dropped back, and you let a, “Yes,” tumble from your lips. “More.”

His other hand skimmed up from your hip, up your side, to your neck, and then angled your head back down for another kiss. Your lips met his eagerly, mouths parting, you licked into his mouth, and he growled his approval. He moved his finger from your clit, but your whine was brief as he slipped that finger along with a second straight into your cunt, stroking in and out, over and over again. You canted your hips into his hand, and you felt the rumble of a chuckle in his chest, but he didn’t stop kissing you. Instead, he curled his fingers forward with each stroke, quickly finding the spongy spot that made you tremble and moan.

Breathless, it was you who had to break off the kiss first, but you pressed your forehead to his. “Feel good, plum?” he asked, and you registered that he sounded as earnest as you felt, his voice deep and a little breathless, too.

“Yes, sir,” you gasped.

“Mmm, sir? I like that,” he said, and rewarded you by moving his thumb to start circling your clit.

You moaned openly.

“That noise…keep making it.”

He sped up his motions just slightly, seeming to feel how your body was tensing up, building toward a powerful release.

“Ready to cum for me like a good girl?”

“Yes, sir!” your answer was more like a plea. “So close.”

Keeping up the rhythm on your clit, he applied more pressure with each thrust of his fingers up inside of you, hitting that sensitive spot on the front of your walls, and with just a few more strokes, the wave crested and rolled over you.

“That’s it, plum,” he cooed as you trembled above him, his other hand coming to smooth unhurriedly up and down your back as his fingers continued to stroke your channel, slowly extending your orgasm. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

He removed his fingers and brought them up to your mouth. You sucked them in, laving your tongue over them. “Can’t wait to see you come for me again,” he said. And too impatient for you to lick his fingers clean, he withdrew them and crashed his lips back into yours.

“Earlier tonight when I said I should apologize, and you called me right out for not doing any such thing?”

“Yes?”

“This is why I didn’t apologize. I was in no way sorry that I had more time with you, and I’m going to use it to take you apart and put you back together all night.”

You would think about all of this later. But he emptied your head of anything but him and the pleasure between you, making more than good on his promise to take you apart until you were completely spent and ruined in his bed.

READ THE SEQUEL: NOW THAT I SAW YOU

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[heartfullofleeches]

Drabble ft Thembo Darling mistaking one of Aspen [Housewife Yan]'s night slips for a tank top. (GN Reader, but they are described as having big naturtals and slightly implied to be taller than Aspen. Reader's chest is referred to as tits once or twice. Slightly suggestive.)

-

Wedded and residing in the same home as your spouse for several odd years, misplacement of your separate possessions as individuals is a one of numerous staples tied to married life. Your toothbrush in the slot where his would normally be. Leaving home smelling of lavender and honey instead of your regular body soap. Taking out the trash in pink slippers due to your own being nowhere in sight.

It's never been a point of issue to either of you. As a matter of fact, your wife seems delighted to find you at the breakfast table sipping from his favorite mug.

Groggy and drained of energy by the steam of a nice, hot shower before bed, you stumble into the bedroom as the click of the bathroom door muffles the sound of running water. Your wife enjoyed taking his time when he had it to spare, but unfortunately you were too exhausted to stay with him longer.

Pawing through the darkness, your fingers lace around the chilled knob of the top dresser drawer where you normally kept your nightwear. The insistence of your wife urging you to join him lead to you forgetting to grab a shirt for yourself. Losing your battle with the beast known as fatigue, you grab the closet one - throwing it over head as you switch trajectory for the bed.

"Something feels.....off."

As the fabric petals around you, you immediately notices something strange about the garment both in texture and the form at which it shapes to your frame. At first feel, you chalked the silk like touch of the shirt as some effect of the new laundry detergent Aspen picked up the other day. For a split moment, you pondered if you even put on anything to begin with - the material light and breathable like warm spring air. The familiar bind of your tank tops makes an appearance as the shirt rides the curve of your ample chest, biting the skin as you huff in frustration.

"Did it shrink in the wash?? Didn't he just buy these for me?"

Fiddling with oddly thin straps, your tits squish through the top of the shirt as you pull its hem in tandem. Your nipples pucker at the iciness cupping your chest as the fabric adjusts to the warmth of hot-bloodded body. Your teeth chatter as cool air blows over your bare stomach - the shirt barely having enough material to cover your navel.

"This thing totally shrunk! And it's brand new too...."

Slumped in defeat, cherubic humming echoes from behind the bathroom door - crescendoing as the handle turns and a figure shrouded in fog steps out. Aspen hangs his towel on the shower rack drilled to the backside of the door, facing away from you as he questions-

"Is everything alright, my love? Could've sworn i heard you saying something a moment ago."

"I think my tank top shrunk in the wash...."

"What?!" Aspen spins on his heels, expression flared in shock and surpise at your declaration. "But I just bought those for you! First thing tomorrow, we're marching down to that store to get you clothes that can survive more than one wash."

"I know." You whine, plopping down on the bed center of the brilliance still bleeding through the bathroom door. Aspen's jaws fall slack as he stares at you, but the source of his disbelief no longer regards the alleged faulty tank top.

"Darling?"

"You didn't even need to buy me new ones, but it was sweet of you to do anyway."

"Darling."

"And look what happened. Having to return gifts is the worst!"

"Darling!"

"Huh?!?" You snap to attention as your wife shouts, the fat of your well endowed bust nearly slipping over the low cut of your attire as you jump from the fright of if all. Breath violently yanked from his person, Aspen stammers for the proper words to say as he fans himself.

"Good heavens, if there are higher powers above, please give me strength." Aspen mutters feverishly to himself - regaining his prim and proper composure as he clasps his hands together; nails digging into his skin to remind him of self control.

"Dearest. My sweet angel, my love of loves - you are not wearing one of your shirts. You are wearing one of my slips."

Oh.

Ohhhh.

That explains- so much. More specifically the spilts at the sides and what you now recognize as frilly lace stitched around the hems.

"Oh, no. I'm stretching it all out, aren't I? Here, I'll try to get it off before I completely ruin it."

"NO!" Aspen's hands shoot forward as if you're inches from placing your hand on a hot stove. He clears his throat, rounding the bed to where you sat.

"Ruined is a rather bold claim, wouldnt you say? You already have it on, so there's no point in taking it off. Besides, I have plenty more you can stretch out some other day. It's getting late. Why don't we lie down?"

"I guess you're right..."

Sighing, you roll onto your backside as Aspen crawls over to his side of the mattress to join you. Elastic expanding to the fullest of its limits, your nipples peak out the sidelines of the slip as you lay there none the wiser.

Aspen shoves his knuckles between his teeth to stop himself from screaming.

[mochinomnoms]

Ok si for the small snippet requests- ptm jadeyuu, but it's at the point where yuu starts getting a little downbad and just starts playing into jades lil scenarios more and he freaks out cause his day is going SO MUCH BETTER now. Thank you!

🦩

Having a crush when you're a mind reader can have its cons...but also some pros~

Also I wrote this while listening to Brooklyn Baby by Lana Del Rey, I very recommend listening while reading for the vibe

You blew hot air against your hands, rubbing them as you watched the snow fall outside the window.

Winter had come early this year and your dorm members had taken to playing in the snow. Everyone was enjoying themselves, even Aspen was smiling, though yelping as he was smacked in the face by a snowball.

You laughed as he chased after Tony, tackling him into the ground as they both cackled with a red flush over their cheeks.

Ramshackle had very little traffic, even with the students in your care, which left it rather pristine and ideal for making snowmen and fights. Plenty of students from the other dorms were hanging around between classes, some even in your kitchen making warm drinks and snacks.

Which is why you weren't surprised when a mug of hot chocolate appeared in your peripheral vision. Looking up, you softly smiled and gave a small 'thank you' as you took the mug from Jade, who took a spot next to you, leaning against the porch railing to watch the small group of students playing in the snow.

He was in the winter version of the school uniform, which just came with a thicker jacket, a scarf, boots, and snow gloves. Though, you're positive that Aspen mentioned that none of them needed it, as they were well acquainted with the cold. It was mostly to keep up appearances, Floyd being the exception as he forwent the gloves and jacket.

My pretty pearl, you look radiant against the snowfall. I feel like I'm falling for you all over again…

Your cheeks warmed, despite the biting cold, and you masked your smile behind your mug as Jade stared at you from the corner of his eyes. When you dared to look at him, his gazed immediately darted back to the others. He had a red flush over his cheeks, which could be due to the cold, but you knew better.

Both of you chuckled as Silas, holding a giant snowball over their head, jumped and slammed the snow on top of Yaqub's head with a shit eating grin.

“They seem to be having fun. I know Floyd is coming over to have a snowball fight with Tony in a bit, will you be joining?”

You shook your head, watching the marshmallows swirl in your mug.

“Nah, I'm probably gonna head in here in a few. My hands are freezing, and I don't have gloves anyways.” You sighed, drinking your hot chocolate and relishing in the warmth flowing to your belly.

Jade tilted his head, watching as you lifted one of your hands to blow on it again.

“Would you like some help warming up?” You weren't surprised at the flash of an image of Jade and you 'warming up' in front of the lounge fireplace under a lush blanket. “I'm happy to assist.”

You know what response he was waiting for. You know that he'd come to expect your flustered and panicked stammering, putting as much space between you two as possible. It's a very 'you' response.

I can do this, I can give the same energy! Yeah! No more playing around with me, Jade! It's my turn!

“Hmm? And just how do you plan to 'warm me up' Jade~” You cooed, batting your eyelashes and smiling up at him.

You're surprised just how…sultry that came out. I didn't think I could sound like…like…something out of Jade's daydreams! Jade seemed surprised as well, snapping his head to stare at you.

His face still had his same polite smile, though you swear his cheeks turned a bit more red.

“…Pardon? Could you repeat that?” Jade asked, though there was a bit of breathlessness to his voice.

Did you…no I must have imagined…

“Well, there's lots of ways to warm someone up,” You shrugged, looking down at your drink and tracing the edge of the mug. “You caaaan…start a fire…get me a blanket…skin to skin contact…”

Haaaah, is this real?

“Human lovers will cuddle with each other, and do more...intimate things together to warm up.” You finally turned to face him, watching him visibly swallow.

Now I'm just being mean.

“Is…that so? That's good to know.” Jade's voice sounded strained, though his face betrayed very little. If it wasn't for the screaming echoing through his mind, you wouldn't be able to tell this was effecting him.

“Mmh, so, Jade~” You slowly crept closer to him, your still free hand doing the same along the rail to inch closer to his fingertips.

“How do you plan to warm me up, Jade?”

You had to crane your head to look up, causing a creak in the back of your neck, as there was barely an inch of space between you two. Frankly, though, it was worth it to see the wide-eyed surprise on his face.

It's real! Bless the Seven! It'srealIt'srealIt'srealIt'srealIt'sreal—

“Well, I—”

“Can watch everyone while I warm up in the kitchen!” You chirped, quickly backing away and smiling. “I'm sure it's plenty warm in there with the others running the oven!”

W-what?

Hmph, that's what he gets. You started walking away towards the front door, a smug smile on your face. Just a taste of what he puts me through every day—

You swallowed a shriek as Jade caged you against the wall with his arms, dropping your mug in surprise. You could hear it clatter against the wood floor and the hot drink fizzle against the cold surface.

Curling in on yourself, you looked up at Jade, who was giving you a smile and narrowed glare, his sharp teeth visible. He had a glint in his eyes and his flush was growing down to his neck.

“Now, now my dear,” he leaned down, speaking softly as he hovered his face closer and closer to yours, until you pressed your hands against his chest, stopping him.

“It's not nice to be a tease, stunts like that would get you eaten up in the sea.” Jade's nose brushed against yours, his smile growing as you grew more flustered.

“Unless, you're trying to be a tease~” Jade's right hand moved to graze your cheek with his finger.

This is going too far, I should…

Your skin felt tingly as he ghosted down to your chin, tracing the tip of his thumb against your bottom lip.

“Talking about lovers, acting coy.”

…I should make him…stop…

He pulled it down, ever so slightly, making you release a breath you didn't realize you were holding.

Cute…

“You shouldn't play around with things like that.”

“I'm…not…” you let out a whimper as his breath mixed with yours, lips hovering over your own. You could hear his breath hitch at the sound.

“No? Then prove it, unless you want me to 'warm you up' in front of everyone?”

Swallowing another whimper and feeling your cheeks and body warm from something other than your drink, you licked your lips. You felt him shudder as your lips just barely brush, moving to press them together—

“Ooooh, how scandalous!”

You shrieked, out loud this time, shoving Jade away as you accidentally smack his face to get some space between you two.

“Ack!” Jade covered his face with his hands, wrinkling his nose from the sudden pain.

You stared in a mix of embarrassment and bewilderment at the small group watching you two at the railing.

Silas was grinning, fulling leaning his body over the railing as he kicked his legs behind him like a child. Yaqub and Tony looked just as amused, the former hiding his giggling behind his hand. Aspen, to no one's surprised, had a sour look on his face, disappointed even, while Wynfred was pouting. Marion had the decently to look embarrassed that he was caught staring, looking down at his feet like they were the most interesting things he'd seen all day. James, sweet James, just looked confused.

“…I didn't know you two were dating?”

“We're not!” You waved your hands in a panic, laughing nervously as you stepped away from Jade, who was now glaring at the group with an annoyed frown.

“Then, why were you two kissing—” James jumped, as did the rest of the group as you screeched.

“HE WAS JUST BLOWING HOT AIR ON MY HANDS, THAT'S IT! NOTHING ELSE!”

You laughed manically as you clapped your hands, inching closer to the door.

“You know I'm still cold! Are you guys cold? Yeah, you are!” You continued nervously laughing as you turned and practically bolted to the front door, the snow on the ledges falling from the sheer force of your slam.

The group and Jade stared at where you disappeared, so quiet that you could hear a pin drop in the snow.

“…So you two were, like, totally making out, right?” Silas asked, letting out an 'oof' as Marion smack that back of their head, making them fall face-first into the wooden patio.

Jade gave his signature smile, bowing his head.

“Perhaps you all should go back to playing, I should check on the poor Prefect, though might I advise not interrupting a pair's private conversation next time?”

Yaqub scoffed, elbowing Tony as he teased, “Conversation, sure. Maybe next time you two should have your next 'conversation' in the bedroom?”

The two snorted, Tony choking into a cough at Aspen's glare.

“Thank you for the kind suggestion, I'll be sure to consider it.” Jade called out as he entered the dorm, determined to continue from where you two left off.

[elliott-the-creature]

hey, what’s up, it’s me, ur creature Flax! I thought I’d share my giant namehoard with you all. they’re pretty much all nouns/adjectives (although K may do a part two with human names).

hope you all enjoy, and feel free to use any of these for yourself; we don’t mind :3

-🌿🪲

putting it under the cut because holy crap it’s a lot

Nature related

Willow

Clover (one of my personal favourites)

Reed

Birch

Aspen

Mangrove

Oak

Hickory

Pine

Fern

Ivy

Thistle

Rose

Orchid

Primrose

Buttercup

Bloom

Lily

Brook

River

Rain

Storm

Thunder

Cloud/cloudy

Sun/sunny

Blizzard

Flurry

Frost

Hail

Torrent

Reef

Meadow

Ridge

Fen

Marsh

Bog

Forest

Boreal

Conifer

Deciduous

Animals

Mouse

Rabbit

Bunny

Rat

Puppy/Pup

Kitty/Kit

Tiger

Leopard

Ocelot

Sheep

Cow

Macaw

Pigeon

Hawk

Owl

Dove

Chickadee

Lizard

Gecko

Manta

Orca

Beetle

Bee

Lepidoptera

Hymenoptera

Spider

Weevil

Objects/clothes

Button

Jacket

Mittens

Domino

Mug

Novel

Hoodie

Plush

Cottage

Monocle

Mannequin

Doll

Acrylic

Tupperware

Socks

Toque/beanie (they’re the same thing so I’m grouping them together)

Patch

Miscellaneous (aka me mixing a whole load of small categories together)

Mono

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Eleven

Liar

Handsome

Dreamer

Shade

Mercury

Venus

Mars

Jupiter

Saturn

Neptune

Amethyst

Garnet

Pearl

Bismuth

Tourmaline

Moonstone

Jade

Yellow

Green

Blue

Lavender

Indigo

Taupe

Mauve

Grey

Ivory

[jungle-angel]

I NEED 2. “I um… I made you dinner” with Rhett pretty please 🥺

My love, I've been thinking about this all day long, you don't even know how hard (lol).

"Alright, everybody put your chairs up on your desks and make sure you have everything," you told your fifth graders. "Bus students, you know where to go."

The wooden chairs and desks in your classroom clunked against each other as your fifth graders put them up, gathering their coats and backpacks from the cubby spaces and hooks in the back of the classroom. Thank God today had been a half day and that your main lesson block on math was finally over. You swore that if you had to look at another fraction one more time, you were gonna go insane.

"Mrs. Abbot!" chirped one of your students. "I think I'm missing my bus tag."

"It's right here Jaime," you told him, clipping the yellow tag to the top strap of his backpack.

Your students came to shake your hand and say goodbye before they left the room, heading to the front of the school to wait for the busses or their parents. Your phone suddenly began vibrating in your back pocket and when you saw the contact picture, you knew it was Rhett.

"What's up Grumpy?" you joked.

"You've still got a half day right darlin?" he asked.

"Yeah and I'm on my way to get Amy and Hannah, what's going on?" you asked. "Did another calf come?"

"Nope, I've got a little surprise for you."

You made a face, wondering what sort of hair-brained thing your husband had been up to, being home alone all day with Tatum and Tanner. "Alright I'll be home in twenty."

"See ya then sweet cheeks," Rhett replied before hanging up.

You headed out the front doors of the school and down the cobbled path to the early-ed building, the last of the fall leaves just having fell from the quaking aspens near the play yard. Out of all the buildings on the school campus, this one was by far your favorite.

You walked right through the creaky front gate and up the steps that lead into the building, the kindergarten class immediately on your right and the preschool one to your left. There were only a few kids left in Amy's class, most of them already having taken the bus home, but you knew that in less than a few minutes, they too would head for home.

"Amy, sweetheart, Momma's here," her teacher called happily.

Amy ran right to you, giggling up a storm as she threw her arms right around your waist. "You ready to go home?" you asked her.

"Yeah!" she chirped.

You thanked her teacher and let her grab her coat from the hallway cubbies while Amy proudly showed you the little symbol she had chosen on a painted stone to show that it was hers......a bull kicking up his back legs.

You gathered up Hannah from the preschool room and led the girls out to the dirt lot, loading them up in the truck and buckling them in before heading for home. It was only eleven-thirty in the morning, but the earlier you could get home and get everything out of the way, the better, seeing as you and Rhett had a long vacation to look forward to.

Finally you reached home and unloaded the girls, the two of them charging into the warm and cozy house to kick off their little fuzzy ugg boots and strip off their hats and coats to go play down in the basement playroom. Yet a rather spicy and enticing smell had started to waft from the kitchen and a fire already crackling away in the living room fireplace.

"You're home early," Rhett chuckled as he poured a little bit of milk into his coffee mug.

"Half day," you said, dumping your back on the hallway bench. "And thank God. Our math main lesson block is finally over and I don't have to worry about it anymore."

Rhett laughed again as he lifted the lid off the crockpot and filled the whole kitchen with a spicy and herby scent. "Is that my little surprise?" you asked with a sly grin.

"I um.......I made you dinner," Rhett said as his cheeks began to go hot.

"You made me dinner?"

"I'm not the greatest cook in the world darlin but....."

"Rhett, how can you say that?" you laughed. "You made a prime rib last Christmas that had your godfather begging for the recipe."

Rhett laughed a little bit. In all the years you had been married, you still thought Rhett was an excellent cook, no matter what.

All day long, you let the chicken legs cook in the crockpot until they were practically falling off the bones. You, Rhett, his parents and the kids all ate until there were no leftovers to be had, surprised and grateful by Rhett's sweet little gesture.

[starry-hughes]

christmas music (cole mcward)

day 19 of star’s ficmas

aspen hughes x cole mcward (au)

Aspen Hughes had moved out to Vancouver to live with her brother at the end of her junior year of college at Michigan. She had gotten her heartbroken and despite all her friends being in Michigan, she needed a change of scenery.

Enter Cole McWard. Cole had gone to play with the Canucks after Ohio’s season ended and had officially met the sister of Quinn at the beginning of the Canucks training camp. They were quick friends, then Aspen kissed him.

Then Cole led her to his apartment. Then their nights between the sheets became a secret. It was probably what Aspen needed. She needed a boy to show her that she was worthy of love, who didn’t control who she talked to or got mad at for minor things. Cole was showing her what love was without her even realizing.

Despite feeling sick, Aspen was spending every moment she could with Cole. She had been feeling sick for a bit, but chalked it up to nothing, saying the temperature change and her seasonal allergies were affecting her differently this year. Plus, the pregnancy test she had taken was negative, but had no idea it was a false negative.

“You still feeling sick?” Cole frowned as he brought her a cup of tea as she lounged on his couch. She used the excuse of not wanting to be alone in her own apartment to go see him when Quinn was on roadtrips. With Cole playing with Abbotsford, his schedule didn’t match with Quinn’s so they were able to sneak some extra time together with no one knowing. “Yeah, I’ll probably go to the doctor or something while I’m in Michigan for break,” Aspen reassured him. Cole didn’t mind that he wasn’t getting any extra curricular activities since Aspen was sick, he cared about more than just the sex with her.

Aspen had bought a mini Christmas tree for his apartment and brought her own blanket with her to his apartment. “There’s nothing on TV,” Cole complained as he plopped next to her on the couch. She curled into his side, he sucked in a breath, he loved when she got like this. “Put on the Christmas music channel.”

Cole did as told, the music of Santa Baby filling the room. “I got you a Christmas gift,” he said softly. “Oh… I didn’t get you one,” she turned red. “It’s okay, it’s nothing major or anything!” he said quickly before leaning over and grabbing the small present that Aspen hadn’t noticed was on his coffee table. “Cole…”

Aspen placed down her mug of tea and carefully tore the wrapping paper off and opened the small box. “I know you know where the spare key is, but I thought you deserved an actual key.” Her face was red and she could have cried. Her ex didn’t even like her coming over and Cole was giving her this key.

The sound of I’ll Be Home for Christmas filled the room. Aspen jumped up off the could before she pulled Cole up to his feet. “Dance with me?”

Cole and Aspen swayed in the living room, Cole constantly tripping over his feet every other word, making Aspen giggle. The young adults, without knowledge of the things that were about to tie them together forever, danced and spun around the apartment living room to the soft music.

[arcielee]

Farewell Wanterlust

Warnings:  Sexism because it it the 9th century, tw: noncon, sexual assault mentioned, violent actions and torture describe. MDNI, 18+ Pairing: Osferth x OFC Word Count: 4107 Summary: Torn from her home country, Keavy finds herself trying to survive across the Irish sea. She happens across Uhtred and his motley crew, and finds herself befriending a monk who is determined to become a warrior.      Author’s Note: This will be a hybrid of the books and TLK show. The timelines will be adjusted for the plot and the names will match the Old English/9th Century. Please be mindful of chapter warnings as this shit will have dark moments and mature themes.     Please let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist! Dividers are by @saradika​ ♥ Taglist (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @sirenofavalon @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @schniiipsel @aspen-carter @aemondx @fan-goddess @babygirlyofthevale @randomdragonfires @httpsdoll @triscy @assortedseaglass @whoknows333 @shesjustanothergeek​ @heavenly1927​ @greenowlfactif​ (bold for those I could not tag, but requested!) 

 Chapter 2

It had been ten days since the brothers, Erik and Sigefried, besieged Lunden. 

The city fell easily, which was something Keavy knew was inevitable from the mumbled worries of his lordship Æthelstan, something that he shared between her and his mug of ale. Though he had been baptized, she still saw the Dane that thrummed beneath the flesh and how it vibrated with that instilled knowledge, haunting him late at night to know that despite the structured wall that surrounded them, they did not have the manpower to keep it properly guarded. 

Keavy had been sent to Lunden after her refusal to join the nunnery in an official capacity. She was well aware of the weight of her decision, how it would uproot her, but the abbess did not fault Keavy for her choice; she knew this from the soft touch of her hand to her cheek that was not damaged, her simple gesture of understanding before she left Ebchester. 

She had grown into a strong-willed woman, both bright and vivacious. In all accounts, she was lovely as her mam claimed: she possessed womanly curves that pressed the seams of her simple frocks, with a milky white complexion and dark ringlets that billowed with her every determined step. 

Though Saxon men admired these physical traits, they all were overlooked the second their eyes fell to the parting gift from her mam. Her scar had healed dark, with blood red markings from the crude sutures that knitted the flesh together; it curled below her chin and stretched back towards her ear, with a second slash into her cheek downwards to her jaw bone. 

She was aware she was a gift for the baptism of Æthelstan of East Anglia but did not mind him; she was pleased to learn how he almost pitied her, which in turn allowed her a freedom within the city limits. He had noted right away how the Saxon men would be quick to look away with the superstitious whispers that she was a witch, some with a visible shudder, and were quick to disregard of her existence; he understood the blemish would allow her to be overlooked and she served as a set of eyes and ears amongst the cityfolk. 

Keavy ignored it all, their reactions, readily accepting her role and requesting to be trained alongside his men, so she could properly handle a sword. And he allowed it. 

It was a freedom she now mourned as she found herself pinned under the dark gaze of Sigefried these last ten days. 

The Danes had come under the cover of night and she awoke to the screams that rolled from the shores, echoing in the stone halls of the manor. She moved from the bed, throwing on her frock and cloak, grabbing her dagger and tucking the silver Celtic cross beneath her neckline. Keavy moved quickly from the castle, hiding in the shadows of the city as she made for her escape. 

She had come across a guardsmen, a young man she recognized from training in the courtyards, and he reached to take her hand. They moved together, quick and quiet amongst the bloodshed, slipping into an alleyway of cobblestone where they found a lone Dane taking a piss. 

The lad pushed her backwards, perhaps with a gallant effort to defend her but instead he was killed quickly. This distraction allowed her to draw her own blade and plunge it into the softness underneath the Dane’s jaw, far enough to gut his tongue so he could not scream. 

As she watched the blood seep between the stones, she thought back to the night when the slavers came and she knew from the haunting echo of slain screams that Lunden was lost. She wiped and sheathed her dagger, removing the silver cross, and wrapped both in her blood stained cloak. Keavy then picked up the sword and used it to lift some of the stones, burying it beneath, then dipping her fingers into the fresh blood that pooled and marking the stones.

She swore that she would survive this as well, that she would return for it, but if not, let it remain buried rather than be taken. 

Once she finished, a looming figure stepped to block her path. His face was shadowed and closer she saw his pupils were blown, which made his eyes as black as the night. He looked past her. “Did you kill them?” His tone gravely, and he said it with a smile that reached his eyes in a way that made her skin crawl. “You have killed one of my men so I ask how will you repay for this loss?” 

Her arms trembled with her grip on the sword, her fear rooted her stance but wavered under his dark eyes.  “I am not afraid to die tonight, Dane,” she spat back at him, but her bold tone cracked and betrayed her. 

His laugh was deep and reverberated around her. “I can see this,” and he was quick to close the space between them, knocking the steel from her grasp. It clamored to the stone and she felt his hot breath on her face. “You are not Saxon,” his larged palm grabbed her face and she felt the burn of her scar from his hold. “Do they teach their women across the Irish sea to fight?” 

She would not answer him, but she also did not look away. He only chuckled, his hand moving to grab a handful of her curls and pulling her as he made his way back towards the castle. Keavy grit her teeth, struggling to keep with his steps and ignoring the cheers from the Danes they passed as he took her to one of the rooms. 

Her fear now settled into her core, but she would not give the satisfaction of screaming as she knew still that no one would come for her. Lunden now belonged to the Danes and she knew her mam never considered that the marr given would not be a deterrent for their heathen cocks. 

It was fortunate and unfortunate how Sigefried seemed entertained by her stubbornness, her refusal to seek his favor and, in return, he would try and frighten her, to see the cracks in her practiced stoic mask. “When my cock tires of her, I will hump her with my good hand,” she once heard him say to his brother, the blonde Dane named Erik, and they laughed as he lifted his knifed arm.

Keavy just watched him with her steeled gaze, ignoring how her fear shuddered the length of her spine. I am cursed, she thought. Whatever faith the abbess tried to behest from the days spent in Ebchester died in the bed she was forced to share with the Dane. 

Each day dragged with her pettied struggle to remain alive. The Danes seemed insatiable in every sense, but she made sure to serve and refill their cups as the ale, which allowed her to slip from his grasp some nights, but the following day he would return his attention to her with a hungover vengeance. 

On the tenth day, she remained in the shadows of the courtyard, watching as the Danes nailed men to crosses. They were priests sent from Æthelstan to negotiate and the brothers treated them as sport. 

She watched, stone faced and her heart heavy, trying her best to block out their screams. Just the prior night she had been tasked to feed them and she managed to slip them apples from the orchid and hard cheeses along with the bread rationed for them. They begged her to free them but one had been quick to shush the men. 

“Do not risk their fury,” he warned her. His head was shaved, his beard haggard and his expression severe on his already hardened face; he made sure to thank her for the fresh fruit before she left them. 

Now she watched these same men with her solemn expression as they were nailed to the wood, the screams echoing throughout the courtyard. Keavy felt the eyes of Sigefried on her and he beckoned her closer; her steps felt heavy as she brought herself to stand behind and between him and his brother. 

“I still do not understand how this kills a man,” Sigefried casually commented, unaffected by their tortured cries. 

His brother shifted his weight, his unease more apparent. “Sigefried, take his head and be done with it,” and there was the hint of him pleading. 

“A cross kills a man slowly, lord, over days,” and their attention turned towards the same priest that spoke to her last night. In the sunlight, she saw the dirt on his face and the dark circles that framed his dark eyes. “It is both torture and execution.” 

“There,” his brother clasped his hand onto his shoulder. “You have your answer. Now take his head and be done with it.” 

And Keavy could no longer hear their exchange, her focus now fastened onto the men that walked towards them; her eyes watched the one who led them, his presence perking the interest of one of the heavier Danes that stood off to the side. 

“Uhtred Ragnarsson,” he announced. 

His very name breathed fire into her chest, a renewed flame for hope. 

Uhtred of Bebbanburg. 

Her mind returned to the stories that Lady Gisela had shared, how she swore of his honorable spirit. Keavy watched him like a beacon presented for her freedom. “Lord Uhtred of Bebbanburg,” her voice rasped to interrupt and the eyes of the men fell to her, stopping the exchange they were having. “My lord, I know your lady wife.”

She saw that her words caught his attention and she burned under his hard stare, but before she could continue, she felt the backhand of Sigefriend catch her across her mouth. Her knees buckled and she fell back into the dirt, the taste of iron in her mouth, but she did not let it falter her words. “I owe her a debt, lord.”

As she prayed that the words would hold weight and take root, Uhtred peered at Sigefried. “Who is she to you?”

From behind, she saw the tension in his shoulders, but his response was nonchalant. “Just some Irish whore we found here,” his tone was sly with his following implication and it made her stomach curdle with disgust, “I have been having my fun with this one.” 

Her jaw steeled, another crack in her mask, and she could feel how she trembled from his words with a white fury that burned within. 

Uhtred paid her no mind, his focus remaining on Sigefried. “She seems irksome to you, but perhaps she would serve my wife better, to repay this debt owed,” a smirk played on his lips. “You claim bygones today and my family grows. The extra hands can be of better use than to play with your cock.” 

She burned, but she heard the dark chuckle of Sigefried. “She may frighten your children,” and he gestured to his jaw with cruel humor. 

“They have strong stomachs,” another voice spoke and her heart lifted with the familiar lilt of his diction. 

Keavy did not dare lift her eyes from the boots of the men that spoke of her like she was not present. Her chest tightened with her struggle to steady her breath and the silence rolled over them with a palpable tensity that stricken her bones. 

“Of course,” Siegfried began, his words were slow and heavy with venom. “As a gesture of goodwill.” 

For the second time in her life, she found her worth being bartered and then a large palm reached to grab her shoulder, shoving her forward. Keavy fell in front of them, catching herself on her hands and knees, and they burned from the impact. 

“Osferth,” and she looked up to see Uhtred watching her. “Take her to the docks and wait for us there.” 

“Yes, lord,” and a shadow stretched over her. She felt a hold that held no maliciousness, no ill intent, just the gentle touch that belonged to the man called Osferth. His slender fingers wrapped above her elbow and he helped her to her feet; she saw how he towered over her, how his eyes bore into her own.

His features, his jawline were sharp but she saw a kindness, a softness to the expression he held; it complemented his eyes, a color that reminded her of the spring days at Ebchester, when the sky was without a cloud to blemish the brilliant blue. 

Osferth began to pull her away from the crowd of men who now called for food and drink, and she followed him, her mind vibrating with the realization that she would soon be gone from this damned city. 

+ + + +

There was something almost akin with how the Irishman instructed his swordsmanship that reminded Osferth of the days he spent with his uncle, years ago. Finan was not as tall as him, but he was sturdy, with a surliness that peaked beneath his dark beard and his dark brow that furrowed above his scrutinous gaze; Leofric had a hardness that had been embedded into his demeanor and would edge into his timbre, whereas Finan’s lilt brought a comfort to his critiques. 

“You have a pretty solid foundation, but your stance is a bit lazy,” Finan chewed on some straw, reaching forward to correct his posture. “But if I was a betting man, I would guess you wouldn’t be killed right away.” 

They remained in Wessex for several days, indulging in the celebration with an insatiable want of women and ale. Sihtric remained knitted at the side of the same woman with auburn hair, while the rest were seated around a table, their cups overflowing and spilling into the wood as they crowed when they learned of Osferth and his virginity. 

He argued his time spent at the monastery hardly allowed women to flow through, but Finan would not hear of it. “There are things in life you must allow yourself, an almost right of passage for any man,” and it was the first time he noted a genuine grin beneath his beard. Finan grabbed the pitcher to refill his cup and Osferth took a grimaced sip, the taste bitter and burned down his throat. “Don’t worry, baby monk, you will learn to love it.” 

Uhtred offered insight about quality over quantity and Finan guffawed in his mug. He continued on about his wife, how when he saw her, he just knew. “With ale, you must accept whatever has been poured into your cup,” Uhtred swirled whatever liquor remained in his mug, “but a good woman is something you must be able to decipher and then cherish.” 

Osferth watched the hue of pink that washed over his cheeks, whether from his thoughts of his lady wife in Coccham or perhaps the ale. “How did you know, lord?” His naivety pressed.

Uhtred smiled at him, bringing his fist to thump against his chest. “It is in here, it is something that tells you.” 

Osferth remembered that moment when they were in the courtyard at Lunden, when he first saw her. 

They had left Wessex on horseback towards the shores of the Temes; Mercian lords had accompanied them and the boats were a reprieve from their ceaseless, loud complaints. They followed the river to the docks of Lunden that bustled with merchants, who seemed unaffected by the siege. 

They followed behind Clapa, who led a wide berth with his large steps as people parted to allow him to pass, and they pushed until they came to the courtyard, halted by the body crudely displayed upright on a cross. Their unease shuddered off when Finan spoke with certainty, “Tis’ a death, nothing more.”

Osferth found that the vulgar show of sacrilege vested a response instilled from his days at the monastery and he crossed himself, his dirty blonde locks spilling forward when he bowed his head for a quick, silent prayer for the dead man. 

The sun poured into the courtyard ahead and Danes were staggered around with a half-interest in the grotesque crucifixion demanded. The attention turned onto them and Osferth found himself fixated the moment he saw her, how still she stood in the Dane brothers’ shadows. 

There was a severity in her green eyes as she looked them over and they brightened with a familiarity, something that flickered across her pale features. She wet her pink lips before she dared speak out loud, claiming their attention as well as the backhand from the dark haired brother. Her knees buckled and she fell back, her lips now red with blood, her eyes burning. 

“Don’t do it, baby monk,” Finan growled, low, and he felt the touch of his hand to his stomach. Osferth realized his fists were clenched. “I see your eyes have not left her–let him handle it.”

Though the words did not ease his rigid stance, he remained rooted at the Irishman’s side, his eyes watchful. Osferth thought back of his last day at the monastery, the warm meal prepared for him and the comfort of the bed he had slept in for the prior eighteen years. The abbot had approached him to ask if he truly wished to leave this humble life behind and he had answered earnestly that he had to go. There was a pull from the echo of his uncle’s words that regaled Uhtred of Bebbanburg, how he was an honorable man, how he was a fair man, and this was what propelled his steps to leave this life behind. 

Destiny is all. 

And in the courtyard, he saw the personification of his uncle’s words with how Uhtred bartered with Sigefried to hand over this woman, with her eyes that burned. 

The Dane had shoved her forward and Osferth moved outside his volition towards her, breaking away from Finan and with the covered command from Uhtred to take her to the docks, a way to conceal his unprecedented action. Osferth helped her stand, pulling her away from the courtyard and the heathens that filled it. 

His steps were not hurried, but his long legs made for a long gait as he moved to exit the city, his hold on her hand keeping her in the wake of his steps as he pushed through the crowds. 

“Please, priest,” he heard her say and he peered over his shoulder, slowing his steps and watching her as she looked over the buildings they passed, her eyes almost frantic. “Please, before we leave, I must take what belongs to me.” 

Osferth stopped and turned to face her, his chin tilted down to look at her. He watched the rose coloring dust her fair cheeks and the tip of her nose, how the pink clashed with the scar that lined her cheek and jawline. His eyes returned to her own and he only said, “I am not a priest.” 

She blinked then tried to correct herself. “Forgive me, monk–”

“I am not a monk, nor a holy man any longer,” he interrupted, his brow knitting over his eyes. “I am simply Osferth,” he added and he felt a warmth that bloomed in his chest from how she peered up at him through her dark lashes; he admired the bright green of her eyes with a halo of gold that burned around her pupil with her stare. 

She watched him for a moment before she reached to take his hand, her palm dry and cool against his own. He allowed her to lead until she made a noise of recognition, moving down an alleyway until they came to where blood had clearly been split, with markings that burned dark against the stonewall. 

Without a word, she dropped to her knees, her fingers desperate to pull up the stones before he unsheathed his sword and offered its leverage. She finally unearthed a dark piece of fabric, almost black with the mixed stain of blood and soil that broke off in chunks as she unraveled to reveal a silver, detailed cross and a dagger. 

She first slipped on the necklace, tucking the pendant beneath her neckline, and then her fingers trembled with its hold as she tried to fasten the belt around her wait. There was a moment he wished to reach forward to help her, but instead he let his hand fall back to his side. 

When she finished, she turned to face him with her face flushed; he saw blood was smeared across her chin and she wiped her hands on her skirt, her dark curls limply falling to in front of her face. Osferth felt that warmth cradling his heart, but said nothing and offered his hand to her. He was pleased how she took it without  hesitation, how well it fit within his own, and they made their way towards the docks. 

Once outside the gates of Lunden, he felt he was able to take a deep breath, though the waste thrown on the shores were still rancid. “Wait here, lady,” he said, his tone low and kind, and he went to find a bucket of cleaner water and rags. 

When he returned, she only said, “I am no lady.” She dampened the cloth to wipe away some of the blood and dirt, her pearly complexion showing through the streaks. “You may call me Keavy.” 

He nodded, his eyes still watchful as she cleaned away the grime; his gaze trailed the scarring again, a deep blood red for the new skin. “Was he…” he began and he gestured to his jaw, “was he the one who did this to you?” 

“It was from before,” she answered and he saw how her hands fidgeted with the cloth. “Osferth,” she spoke his name slowly and he liked how it rolled with her Irish lilt, “have you been in service to Uhtred of Bebbanburg for a while?”

He shook his head, a small smile to his lips. “No, lady, only a few days now.”

“Just Keavy,” she corrected him with the slight tilt of her head and he burned from the tensity of her green eyes. “Do you think he has sound judgment? Is he a fair man?”  

He noted the trepidation of her voice and the concern that lined her question. “From what I have seen and learned about him, he is very just,” and he paused a moment before he added, “I will say that he is a man that respects honesty and will give it in return.” 

Her lips pursed in response and she nodded with the soft movement of her curls.

Osferth wished to reach forward and pinch a tendril between his fingers, to find his tongue and press for more, but instead he heard Uhtred call to them; they both looked to see him and the men in tow, making their way towards the docks. They split to their respective boats and Osferth stepped in, turning to take her hand and help her as she made her way forward to sit on the behind the stempost, where Uhtred now held onto. 

They rowed out with the collective grunts with each pull; Osferth felt the burn between his shoulder blades as they made their way against the flow of the Temes. A silence settled over the men until they seemed far enough from Lunden before Uhtred asked: “What is the debt owed to my wife?” 

Osferth looked up, watching how her shoulders wilted and then squared with her breath. “She saved my life, lord.”

Uhtred looked back at her with an amusement that played across his face. “How did my wife save you?” he clarified. 

“By allowing me to use her name to escape the Danes that held Lunden,” she admitted and then allowed a shaky exhale. “I knew her from when she stayed in Ebchester, until you came for her,” she added with one breath. 

“Ebchester?” Finan called from behind, his tone light. “Did you ever confess to Beocca that you killed a holy man?”

The men chortled and Osferth felt a sly smile of his own that widened when Keavy turned around to watch their response. Her relief was apparent and there was a glow with her smile, the dimples on the left side of her face exaggerated by her scarring.

She is lovely still, came the intrusive thought to his mind. 

“He is aware,” Uhtred called out over their laughter. “And he understands why it was warranted!” Their laughter swelled over their boat alone, while the Mercians followed silently in their wake as they made their way back to Wintanceaster.

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[a-court-of-lust-and-stardust]

Love on Ice Chapter 6: The Second Flashback

@chachachai17 and I hope you enjoy chapters 6 and 7 tonight ❤️

5 years ago, age 21

Elain applied a thin coat of lipstick and fluffed her hair once, checking herself in the mirror a last time before heading downstairs. She felt pretty, and allowed herself to feel a sliver of excitement. As she reached the bottom of the staircase, Elain decided nothing could tarnish her mood. 

On the floor in the living area, Feyre was surrounded by tubes of paint and an untouched canvas. She glanced at Elain, shooting a wink her way. “Where are you going all dolled up?”

Elain blushed and nodded her thanks. “It’s Laverna’s twenty-first birthday. She’s having a party at her home in the Dawn Region. She invited me the last time I saw her at the ice rink. I wasn't going to go but,” Elain rubbed her arm sheepishly. “I figured I might enjoy myself. I don’t plan on being out very long, though.” 

“Who else is going?” Feyre asked, squirting paint onto a glass pallete. She’d chosen a variation of pinks and golds and purples. Brushes were spread widely around the floorboards. 

“Aspen from Winter and Zarah from Spring. They're both ice dancers. We’re not really friends, but we talk once in a while. I thought I could get out of the house and have some fun before the competition tomorrow.” 

“You thought wrong,” Mama said, slinking into the living area with a steaming cup of tea. She didn't spare a glance toward Elain as she sat down on the sofa and said, “The only thing you're doing tonight is going upstairs, taking all of your makeup off, putting on your skating attire, and heading over to the rink for one last practice.” 

Elain and Feyre shared a look. 

“Mama, I haven't really made friends since we moved here,” Elain pointed out gently, ringing her fingers together. “These girls are nice to me and I would like to get to know them better.” 

"You do not need friends,” Mama said, eyes flashing to her face before landing on the television. Mama never looked at Elain for more than a few seconds at a time. 

“I think Elain deserves to build her own connections,” Feyre advocated quietly, spreading gold paint on the canvas. 

“Distractions,” Mama corrected sharply, kicking off her slippers, curling her legs underneath her bottom. The sisters flinched. “Friendships are distractions, and the last thing your sister needs is to be preoccupied.”

“I’m fully prepared for the competition tomorrow,” Elain defended, though her voice had grown shaky. Feyre’s gaze was one of pity. 

“You can never be too prepared,” Mama spat back. “Just this week, you fell during a twizzle. A twizzle! And look at what your sister is doing right now. She’s spending her weekend perfecting her craft. You don’t see her out and about with any companions, do you?”

“That's because they were all busy tonight,” Feyre muttered under her breath, pressing the brush harder against the canvas. 

“And Nesta has been at the studio for nine hours today and she’s still not home,” Mama remarked, sipping from her mug. “That is dedication. Something you surely lack.” 

Elain’s tears dampened her mascara, black streaks running down her rosy cheeks. So much for spending hours on making herself look beautiful. 

“Mama, Elain is one of the most dedicated people I know,” Feyre complimented, smiling sadly at her older sister. Elain shook her head, a silent plea for Feyre to stay quiet. Nothing either of them said would change Mama’s mind. 

Mama huffed, shaking her head. “Then that’s truly a shame,” She glanced toward Elain once more, face void of warmth. “Call your friends and tell them you are not coming. The rink closes in two hours, so you’d best get a move on. And don’t you ever pull a stunt like this again or else you’ll skate until your toes bleed.” 

And when Elain had changed into her sweater and leggings and flung her skating bag over her shoulder, she hadn’t bothered saying goodbye. 

ARTWORK FOR THE CHAPTER BY @chachachai17: Here

DIVIDER BY: @saradika-graphics

[girlwithadragonheart]

Death's Chosen

Part 4

Halsin x OC: Aspen

Summary: Halsin comforts Aspen after her nightmare. Something goes horribly wrong with Aspen’s magic.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Lots of crying, Scratch is a Good Boy™, Halsin is so so comforting, Religious trauma

A/N: I finally did it!!!

Part 3 BG3 Masterlist Part 5

Scratch’s ears perked up, and he picked his head up where it rested on his paws. Surely that couldn’t be right. But then he heard it again. A shrill cry in the night. Not loud, but recognizable. Scratch stood quickly and whined, moving to his Master and nudging his cheek with his nose.

Halsin stirred, seeing the dog in distress. He sat up, “What is it, Scratch?”

“Listen,” the animal said, ears perked.

And Halsin did. And he caught the unmistakable cry in the night. The voice was familiar, the sniffles and sobbing drew him to his feet.

“You stay here,” Halsin commanded, and Scratch sat obediently.

His strides were long and he climbed up the tree with ease, finding the source of the crying. Aspen’s pod. He stepped lightly, making sure not to disturb the others with the shaking of ropes. Carefully, he parted the vines, taking a step inside the moonlit room.

The moonlight spilled through the vines as Halsin stepped into Aspen’s pod, his gaze softening at the sight before him. Aspen lay tangled in the sheets, clutching her chest with one hand, her body curled inward as if bracing against invisible pain. Quiet sobs shook her shoulders, and every now and then, a breath hitched, as though she were fighting to keep the despair at bay.

Halsin knelt beside her, gently brushing damp strands of her coral hair from her forehead. “Aspen,” he whispered. She didn’t respond, only tucked her chin deeper into her chest. His voice lowered to a soothing murmur. “You are safe. No harm will come to you here.”

Aspen trembled, but when she felt the warmth of his hand gently resting on hers, some of the tension eased from her shoulders. “It’s nothing,” she whispered, though the crack in her voice betrayed the weight she carried.

Halsin didn’t press her, sensing that her silence held more than words ever could. “I’ll make you some tea,” he said softly, as if it were the most natural response in the world. He moved with care so as not to disturb her any more than she was. “Come.” He held a hand out to her.

She looked up at him, teal eyes brighter with the tears she shed. She hesitantly took his hand, sniffling as she fought a fresh bout of tears back. He lightly squeezed her hand as she stood, pulling it back to her side once she was on her feet. He noticed she was back in his tunic that fell to her knees. It was endearingly large on her.

The two of them made their way back down to the Inner Sanctuary. Halsin led her to his chambers. They were more open than the pods, and he had a station for tea. It wasn’t infrequent that he had nights he couldn’t sleep well also.

Aspen took a seat on the edge of his bed, watching as he steeped various herbs, his back to her, though he glanced back every once in a while to check she was still there. Her tears gradually dried, and she sat sniffling, arms crossed over her chest protectively.

He joined her side shortly with a steaming mug of herbal tea---lavender and chamomile with a pinch of licorice root. “Here,” he murmured, sitting beside her on the bed and offering the mug. Aspen adjusted as his weight dipped the mattress, wrapping her hands around the warm cup, though she couldn’t quite meet his gaze. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Halsin leaned back on one hand, his presence steady. “You don’t have to carry everything alone,” he said gently, knowing she wouldn’t open up tonight---but hoping she’d remember his words when she was ready.

Aspen gave a small nod, sipping the tea. He wouldn’t like what she had to say when that time came. Her chest still ached, and her thoughts were heavy, but the warmth in the tea and Halsin’s calming presence dulled the sharp edges of her fear.

Eventually, her exhaustion overcame her, and she drifted off with Scratch curled at her side, his head resting protectively on her hip. Halsin watched until her breathing evened, then slipped out of the bed and made his way to one of the other cots. As he lay down, he exhaled softly. His mind lingered on the sorrow in her eyes. He would wait.

----------------------------

The next morning, Aspen found herself standing before the small herb planters Halsin had shown her. She hadn’t thought about how she woke up in his chambers, alone save for Scratch. Not that she had expected him to stay, more so surprised he had allowed her to stay. But she was learning that was just who he was. Or at the least, it was how he had behave thus far.

Kneeling down, she focused on the delicate herbs---lavender, lemon balm, and mint. Her fingers brushed over a sprig of lavender, willing it to grow stronger beneath her touch. She willed warmth through her, natural energy and sunlight.

Instead, the flower wilted beneath her touch, its petals curling and blackening as if scorched. Her magic felt cold and hollow.

Aspen’s breath hitched. Panic surged in her chest, but she clamped it down with practiced precision. Calm. Stay calm. She forced her hands to remain steady as she scooped a handful of soil and buried the withered plant beneath it, hiding the evidence.

Her mind raced, but she kept her movements slow and deliberate, like nothing unusual had happened. If Halsin saw the dead herbs, what would he think? Would he blame her? Or worse---send her away?

The next day, it happened again. Out in the forest, she bent to gather herbs for the tea and watched helplessly as the stems withered the moment her fingertips brushed them. She clenched her fists, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. Please. Please no…

On the third day, Aspen’s path crossed with a small rabbit nibbling on a patch of clover near the riverbank. She crouched low, a bittersweet warmth spreading through her chest at the sight of the soft creature. Perhaps this was what she needed---a small reminder that nature hadn’t forsaken her completely. That Silvanus had not given up on her yet.

She held out a hand, whispering. “It’s alright, my little love, I won’t hurt you.”

The rabbit sniffed the air, its tiny nose twitching. It hopped closer, cautiously sniffing her outstretched fingers. For a fleeting moment, Aspen dared to hope, her breath caught in her chest---

Until the rabbit squealed, a sharp sound of terror that pierced the quiet morning. It bolted into the undergrowth, as if her touch had burned it.

She fell back, feeling the grass beneath her wilting and decaying. She stood, quickly scrambling away as her breaths came faster. Hot tears welled in her eyes and spilled over, her chest tightening with frustration and grief. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she whispered, her voice breaking under the weight of the admission.

--------------------------------------

Halsin noticed the distance growing between them. Aspen’s usual smiles were fewer, and she kept to herself more each day. When her avoidance became impossible to ignore, he approached her after breakfast.

“Come with me,” he said, his tone warm but firm. “We’ll patrol the forest together. The fresh air will do us both good.” As though all of the air surrounding them was anything but fresh.

This is it, Aspen though. This is the day he sends me away. Aspen hesitated, looking for a way to refuse, but something in Halsin’s gaze told her that he wouldn’t accept no for an answer. With a resigned sigh, she followed him into the woods.

The two of them walked side by side, the forest alive with birdsong and the rustling of leaves. Halsin spoke easily about the natural world, his voice carrying the wisdom and reverence of one who understood its rhythms intimately.

“As druids, we share a connection with the wild,” he said thoughtfully. “But leadership can make that bond… heavy.”

Aspen glanced sideways at him, sensing the personal weight behind his words. “Being First Druid can’t be easy,” she murmured.

Halsin gave a small nod. “It isn’t. But I’ve learned that the wild does not judge as people do. There is balance in all things---even in hardship.” He glanced at her meaningfully, his gaze inviting her to speak.

Aspen hesitated, biting her lip. She thought of the herbs wilting beneath her touch, the rabbit’s terrified shriek, and the weight of her past pressing on her chest. “I’ve always felt… out of place. Out of touch,” she admitted quietly. “Even among my old circle. And now, here…” She trailed off, her voice cracking.

Halsin slowed his steps, turning to face her. “You are not out of place here,” he said softly. “But I know the burden of feeling like you don’t belong.”

Her lips formed a thin line. She knew he meant well, but he had no idea how deep this hurt ran. Or how true it really was.

Before she could respond, a rustling caught their attention. A small rabbit emerged from the underbrush, pausing just a few feet away. Halsin crouched, his movements slow and non-threatening despite his size.

The rabbit sniffed cautiously, burrowing its head against his large palm. Halsin looked back and beckoned her to join him. She frowned, heart thudding in her chest.

Aspen knelt beside him, holding out her hand once more. The rabbit took a step toward her, but the moment its nose touched her fingers, it let out that same terrified shriek and bolted into the forest.

Aspen’s heart shattered. Hot tears welled in her eyes, and this time she didn’t bother stopping them. “Silvanus has forsaken me,” she cried, fists pushing into her eyes. “He’s given up after all this time.”

Halsin’s heart ached at the sight of her despair. He didn’t know what he had missed or not seen to make her come to that conclusion. “Whatever it is,” he murmured, “we’ll face it together.” 

For the first time in days, Aspen leaned into his touch, letting herself be held. The forest stood silent around them. Eerily so. But Halsin’s quiet strength felt like an anchor, keeping her from drifting too far into the darkness as she cried into his chest.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Omg this has been in the works forever and it's not even that much. Writer's block is a bitch frfr

Let me know if you want to be added to the Halsin tag list! <3

Tag List: @leiotyp

See my Non Writing OC Masterlist for screenshots and artwork of my characters and their ships!

[thornestar]

[inventors-fair]

Points in Order: Flavor-Modal Entries

@bergdg — Clearance Sale @bread-into-toast — Oba's Overreach @corporalotherbear — Alleyway Mugging @feyd-rautha-apologist — The First Empire @helloijustreadyourpost — Stitcher's Judgement @horsecrash — Wrong Way @i-am-the-one-who-wololoes — Urza's Choice @izzet-always-r-versus-u — Time Uncertain @la-femme-de-stardust — Peacegranter @levelzeo — Beloved General @melancholia-ennui — Lovers' Tragedy @nine-effing-hells — Lance the Boils @partytimesdeluxe — Dream Snare @piccadilly-blue — Time Gentlemen, Please! @real-aspen-hours — Stroke of Inspiration @reaperfromtheabyss — Impassioned Guildseeker @sparkyyoungupstart — Monstrous Intervention @tanknspank — Auspicious Harvest @wildcardgamez — Rigged Game @xenobladexfan — Threat of Compleation @yourrightfulking — Gruul Diplomacy

Phew. Thank you all for your entries!

[inscrutable-shadow]

Augusnippets Day 21 - Path of Whumperless Whump - Delirium

for the doc lovers, except they're being 17 instead of horrifying (Aspen Weiss is their old name and Joni is their fraternal twin sister) i kinda did a weird thing with the prompt but hopefully it's ok i am eepy myself

Aspen knew they'd gone too far. Despite their efforts to ignore the fact, their body was, unfortunately, human, and there was a limit to the number of hours they could study without pausing for sleep. If they were honest, nutrition shakes and coffee weren't much of a substitute for sustenance either. Their hands were shaking around the mugful of stone-cold liquid between them.

How long had it been since they turned a page? The textbook in front of them was nothing but a blur, time and space seemed to flow around them like oil on the surface of water. Distorted sounds teased the edges of their hearing. If they didn't know better, they'd chalk it up to mania, they were no stranger to psychosis, but the sleep deprivation had induced a sort of delirium instead. The difference was something they ought to know if they were to become a doctor.

Yes. The exams. The exams they needed to pass in three days if they ever wanted to escape this seven-devilled facility. They didn't have time to study and to prepare their grand exit, so much needed to be done, and neither part could go forward without the other. Hence sleep was the first thing to be cut. Now they were realizing that had been an error in judgement.

"-spen? Aspen! Az, come on, are you in there?" Oh. So some of the sound had been real. Their eyes were slow to obey, blown pupils fixing on Joni like a drunkard's.

"Jävlar, what'd you take?"

"Nothing… clean. Promise." Oops. That had been a microsleep just then. Hopefully Joni hadn't seen it.

"Helvete. You're falling asleep standing up. You're going to bed. No complaints." That was fine, because they didn't have the energy to.

doc taglist: @i-eat-worlds , @quietly-by-myself, @demondamage, @atomiccorvid

[jerzwriter]

A Tall Order

✨ Ho-Ho-Ho! This year, I'm Secret Santa to the lovely @zealouscanonindeer! You were such an important part of the Choices Open Heart fandom this year, and I know I speak for many when I say that we're so grateful you're here! ✨

❄️I also want to thank @choicesfandomappreciation for hosting this and so many wonderful events throughout the year! You're one of the big reasons our little fandom continues to go strong! ❄️

✨I hope you enjoy this commission of Aspen, Ethan, and their new snow friend created by @weetlebeetle. Here's a little drabble to accompany it! ✨

❄️ Happy Holidays & Happy New Year!❄️

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC Characters: Aurora Emery, Jackie Varma, Sienna Trinh, Tobias Carrick Rating: Teen Words: 867 Summary: It's a snowy lunch break at Edenbrook.

The temperature may have been hovering just above freezing, but that wasn't enough to keep Aspen indoors this lunch break. Not the grounds surrounding Edenbrook were blanketed in beautiful, freshly fallen snow, just waiting to be enjoyed. If that didn't make her happy enough, she managed to wrangle a few friends and co-workers to join her, multiplying her joy.

As the group exited Edenbrook, they were astounded to see just how quiet the streets of Boston could be during a snowstorm, but the silence wouldn't last much longer... not with this crew entering the scene.

Sienna was the first to return to the days of childhood glory, tossing herself on the ground and flailing her arms and legs about.

"Ah! This is so cool!" she squealed as the others looked on.

"It looks downright cold to me," Aurora rebuffed.

"Hey, Trihn," Tobias jumped in. "Just makin' sure you're enjoying yourself, and this isn't some sort of a medical emergency."

Sienna jumped from the spot where she had been lying and gestured widely at her creation.

"It's a snow angel," she proclaimed. "Didn't you ever make a snow angel as a child?"

"Nope," he replied. "Never did. I guess what wasn't my thing."

"That may not have been, but I know what was!" Jackie yelled as a large snowball smacked Dr. Carrick on the side of the face.

"SNOWBALL FIGHT!" Aspen yelled, and it was every person for themselves as total chaos ensued.

Several minutes later, the cold and breathless crew was laughing like schoolchildren.

"I have to admit, this was fun!" Aurora announced. "But maybe we should start heading back in. There is a large mug of hot chocolate with my name on it."

"No!" Aspen hollered, turning all heads her way. "Not... not yet."

Tobias took a look around and noticed there was one doctor that Aspen hadn't been able to convince. Snow crunching under his feet, he walked over with a look of sympathy.

"Look, I know you love the guy... but even you can't make that curmudgeonly old man come out to play in the snow."

A look of determination crossed her face, and she smiled. "Lunch break isn't over... and besides, there is one more thing I want to do before we go inside... Ethan, or no Ethan."

Leaning over, she began rolling snow to form the base of what would become a very impressive snowman. Sienna, Jackie, and Aurora eagerly joined in to help when Tobias announced he'd go fetch warm beverages for all.

They were excited when they heard footsteps headed their way, but they were surprised to see another doctor headed their way. With a North Face jacket tossed over his scrubs, they couldn't tell if Ethan was amused or annoyed as he approached.

"You look cold," he deadpanned.

"What an observation!" Jackie mocked. "Now it's crystal clear how you graduated top of your class at Hopkins."

But, captivated by the way Aspen's eyes lit up when she saw him coming near, Ethan paid her no mind.

"Just in the nick of time!" She announced.

"For what?" He asked. "To drag you inside and stave off frostbite?"

"Probably that, too," she laughed, placing a large snowman's head in his hands with a thud.

"What's this?" he asked, leading Jackie to sigh with frustration.

"It's the head of a snowman! Jeez... Hopkins standards have really been going down, haven't they?"

"I know it's the head of a snowman," he defended. "I'm asking why Aspen gave it to me."

"Because you're tall enough to place it on his neck. I've sort of been struggling with that."

"Uhh, Aspen, aren't you supposed to put the head on and then decorate it."

"Sure, if you want to take the standard approach, but I'm anything but standard."

With a snort and a tender half-smile on his lips, Ethan was about to carry out the task, but not before being subjected to one more round of teasing.

"Well, look who made it outside," Tobias sneered, giving Aspen a wink. "That's some fairy dust you've got there, kid!"

Aspen gave a little bow behind Ethan. But Tobias wasn't done.

"What have you done to the snowman?" He continued. "Leave it to you to decapitate him."

"Decap.. decap... I'm not decapitating him. I'm putting the head on top."

Handing the paper coffee cups to the others, Tobias smirked wickedly. "As a testament to my personal growth, I will refrain from turning that statement into an inappropriate comment."

"OK, boys! Can we wrap this up and get back inside?" Jackie protested. "I can no longer feel my toes."

"Fine," Ethan said as he secured the snowman's head on top, to Aspen's delight.

Clapping her mittened hands together, she slipped under Ethan's arm and declared. "You're my hero!"

"Oh, I think I'm going to be sick," Jackie mumbled as Tobias clinked his cup against hers.

"I'll drink to that," he agreed.

"Hey! Did you get me one of those," Ethan asked, gesturing to the beverages.

"Nope. Thought you were still inside."

Beginning to shiver, Aspen decided inside was where they all should be, and in the same way, she got everyone outside, she began to shepherd them back to warmth.

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[pixie-in-trebleland]

The Spellsmere Circus Thoughts

Are we brainrotting more? Yes! This is just a masterlist that will compile all of my little itty bitty details for the Spellsmere crew. A solid 90% of this applies to both their OG story and the D&D Campaign for the Rizz, since I'm humming and hawing having them just...be the same.

Aspen

By the gods, where do we start with Aspen. My lovely little sunshine incarnate...Well, she's originally from Barovia, one of the oldest Domains of Dread out in the Shadowfell. If we really want to be specific, she's from Vallaki, which was a fortified settlement in Barovia. She isn't overly open about where she's from, but if you get to know her and earn

She loves toys. There was a toy shop in Vallaki, Blinsky Toys, that she recalls fondly walking past growing up. Even when she was thrown out onto the streets, she would set up to rest in front of the toy shop to make sure that she wasn't alone. Gadof Blinsky, the owner of the toy shop, took her in for a little while and had her aid in dressing the dolls that sat in the front window.

Aspen's parents were a part of the Thaani, migrants from Bluetspur that were experimented on by mindflayers. She's not overly open about this out of fear of being chased out.

At the point where the Rizz meets her, Aspen is around 22 years of age.

She is a human/tiefling mix. She appears mostly human, except for sharp teeth, eyes, and tail.

She's always been very energetic and upbeat, but she's definitely learned a lot of her chipperness and positivity from her upbringing in Vallaki. The burgomaster in Vallaki mandated that there was a weekly festival to keep spirits up, so it's no surprise that she's...the way she is.

After her time with Gadof, Aspen ended up in a brothel in the settlement and...worked there for a good chunk of time. While she was a minor, she did work as a barmaid and was responsible for rushing plates and mugs to patrons. The matron was good to her but the patrons were a different case altogether.

Aspen is extremely loving in her gestures, but she is not physically affectionate for a majority of people. She'll do acts of kindness and gifts as her main love languages, but if she lets you touch her, then you're in her golden circle of trust.

Aspen is...naive. She's tried to see the good in the world to the full extent, and does tend to be blind to the damage around her. She's adopted the Burgomaster's way of life, in a way.

The Spellsmere Circus, however, is her family and no one can change her mind. Ciceran had been putting on a show for the dread lord and had met her at quite the opportune moment. They were careful to watch her, seeing if she needed the help or if she was going to be a prime candidate.

With having joined the Spellsmere, Aspen is one of the few who is not in a mirror, and never has been. She thoroughly enjoys the circus.

She sees people like Salem, Toby and Mikko as siblings (even referring to them as such), and Cici, Hjaitr, and Dita as parental/guardian figures. Chase is in a league of his own.

Aspen is not a mainstage performer. She can perform if needed (like she was needed for the Midnight Soirée), but she prefers her little shows along Artists' Alley.

Aspen's main act is contortion, but she can manipulate water with little spells that she's picked up here and there.

She loves bubbles. She firmly believes they're a blessing from the gods.

She used to be afraid of fire until she met Mikko.

Her shoulders are badly scarred from her past. She doesn't hide them, though.

She loves to climb and be thrown about. She's so full of energy that she just has to do something! Anything!

She has four tressyms that protect her tent. Three are hers and have been since she arrived at the Spellsmere (They were a welcome home gift from Ciceran), and the last one was one her and Chase adopted together.

She is a pacifist.

Chase

Chase, our beloved little meow meow, is the newest addition to the Spellsmere family outside of the Rizz members that have fallen...well, into the charm of the place. Note: he is not originally my character, and does belong to @crimsonpups (Thank you, lovely, for allowing me to use him in this beautiful little setting.) The details for this setting are what I've used to adapt him and give him my little flare, but his mannerisms and physical appearance are all crimson's design.

Chase is a painter! A lovely one at that. His nerves get the better of him at times, and his strokes can be shaky, but he's responsible for a majority of the posters and art work around the Spellsmere Circus.

Chase is a recluse. Prior to arriving at the circus, he lived in the Upper City of Baldur's Gate and did not leave his manor. He had a fully prepped staff that did his errands and whatnot for him.

It was love at first sight when he met Aspen. The two connected instantly, and they were wed about two years after he first came through.

Chase is extremely observant. Very, very observant. It's his eye for detail that helps him with his craft, but it also means that he's very aware of the going ons within the Circus Walls. He's just more keen to keep it between him and Aspen rather than share it with everyone else.

Mikko scares the shit out of him. If he sees the man coming, he'll head in the entirely opposite direction.

He's bonded with Salem and Tobias extremely easily. The three of them can be seen eating breakfast together a little earlier than some of the others.

Their proposal was absolutely adorable! He proposed to Aspen as the sun rose on a winter morning. It was just as the snow began to fall, and he knew it was the perfect opportunity. Toby officiated! It was adorable. They did a hand binding ceremony, in honour of Aspen's heritage.

He is a pacifist.

[ratsoh-writes]

She did! But it was hot outside, and she was yelling a lot... Plus when she gets really aggravated when she forgets about her legs and tries to stand up as if to size up the judges. That's one thing she resents about the famine, is how small it makes her both in the immobility of her legs and the lack of antlers/horns. (She'd be about 6'4" if she could stand up)

Aspen is loving the few officers who clearly watch the clips and occasionally shout out "my sOUFFLE" it makes her feel better.

But for now, her series includes "bringing back old pranks when you least expect it." Including seran wrap door barriers, two doors in a row, on top of their coffee mug, and in the fridge. (The video mostly focuses on the audio exclamations from her sibling while the camera looks at Aspen looking at the camera as the text explains the traps.

Shdhdhdh Star did ask Aspen if she’d like to meet up again. It’s been so long