#Saxon Cook

[movienized-com]

Farrey

Farrey (2023) #SoumendraPadhi #AlizehAgnihotri #JuhiBabbar #PrasannaBisht #SaxonCook #LavishkaGupta Mehr auf:

Jahr: 2023 (November) Genre: Krimi / Drama / Thriller Regie: Soumendra Padhi Hauptrollen: Alizeh Agnihotri, Juhi Babbar, Prasanna Bisht, Saxon Cook, Lavishka Gupta, Sahil Mehta, Ronit Roy, Zeyn Shaw … Filmbeschreibung: Niyati, ein Waisenkind, das unter der Obhut ihres Vormunds in einem örtlichen Waisenhaus in Delhi lebt, wird landesweit die Beste bei den Zehntklässlern und erhält ein…

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#Alizeh Agnihotri #Juhi Babbar #Prasanna Bisht #Saxon Cook #Soumendra Padhi

[arklaycomplex]

a woman and her ex husbwife walk into a bar. clang clang

#dr who #doctor who #new who #missy doctor who #lucy saxon #lucy saxon dw #missy dw #let me cook LET ME COOK #should this be tagged sui...unsure

[neworleansvoudou]

Who's Who in Hoodoo History: Mamma Phemie

Lyle Saxon said he’d always wanted to attend a Voudou ceremony and witness firsthand the sacred rites, but he’d never had the chance. Then, one day—under false pretenses—he got the opportunity.

Saxon had known an enslaved Congo man named Robert for years because Robert had worked for Saxon’s closest friends. In a happenchance meeting, Saxon told Robert some cockamamie story about being heartbroken because a rival stole his girlfriend. He said he wanted revenge on his enemy but was afraid to do anything himself. Of course, Robert took the bait and told Saxon he would take him to a Voudou woman to get it taken care of. So, that’s what they did. Robert took Saxon to see Mamma Phemie.

Mamma Phemie took Saxon through a variety of rituals that involved uncrossing. She had him unbuttoning, unclothing, and basically stripping down to nothing but a loose white robe wrapped around his body. She then prepared a parterre-type altar on the floor, characteristic of 19th-century hoodoo and Voudou. She recited a litany of Catholic prayers, and she experienced possession. Her style was an eclectic blend of Voudou, hoodoo, and spiritualism, along with a healthy dose of debauchery, if Saxon’s description is accurate.

To fix Saxon’s problem, Mamma Phemie said she would petition St. Maroon and Li Grand Zombi (the serpent god). To that end, she fashioned a poppet to represent Saxon’s rival out of black candle wax. After convincing him to cut himself so that she could have a blood offering to smear on the wax, she placed the effigy near the fire where the gumbo cooked in the center of the room. As the wax melted, Mamma Phemie began praying to Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Then she recited the Act of Contrition. Suddenly, she stopped and yelled out: “Maroon!”

Her congregation followed suit, repeating “Maroon!” over and over again. Finally, one of her assistants brought to the parterre a statue of St. Anthony. As he set it down on the altar cloth next to Mamma Phemie, he said, “Done set de table, St. Maroon . . . now what yo’ goin’ to do?” Immediately the congregation broke out into the chant:

W’at yo’ goin’ to do? Oh, w’at yo’ goin’ to do? Oh, Maroon, oh St. Maroon, W’at yo’ goin’ to do?

According to Saxon, “there was no response from the sad-faced saint” (Saxon 1928, 317). Mamma Phemie’s attempt to summon the spirit intensified. She rose to her feet, assisted by a young girl whom Saxon dubbed “the mulatto girl,” and exclaimed: “Yo’ answer me, Maroon! What yo’ goin’ to do?”

Mamma Phemie stomped her foot and spat wine on the statue. In traditional New Orleans Voudou, this is more accurately described as spraying the image with wine to wake up the spirit. This is done by taking a sip of liquid—usually alcohol of some sort—and spraying the liquid out in a fine mist with the mouth. As Saxon didn’t know what he was looking at and wrote from an outsider’s perspective, the behavior sounds rude and vile. But it is not when explained in the appropriate cultural and religious context. This is done to bless objects, people, and spaces to prepare them for ritual activity.

Saxon observed Mamma Phemie go into a frenzy and ultimately into what he thought was an epileptic fit. Again, he was watching as an outsider who came under false pretenses with many preconceived ideas about the nature of Voudou, and he got it wrong. Of course, I was not there as a doctor who could determine whether she actually experienced an epileptic fit. I can say that if you have ever witnessed possession in the context of Voudou, it can look like an epileptic fit to the untrained, inexperienced eye. When the spirits are called down, those present at the ceremony may offer their bodies as “horses” for the spirits to “ride.” Mamma Phemie had been ridden by St. Maroon, evidenced by the exclamations of her congregants, “She done possess! She got ’er way! St. Maroon done answer ’er!” Her assistant added, “De sperrit done come strong on her!” (Saxon 1928, 318).

After Mamma Phemie came to, bowls of gumbo were passed out to congregants. Saxon was offered gumbo but didn’t want to eat it because he saw what he thought was a snake as one of the ingredients. Despite his initial revulsion, he forced himself to take a sip and immediately became sick to his stomach. He continued to watch the ceremony as more possessions began to take place. His anxiety mounted. He clearly did not understand what was going on. He described what he saw in sexual terms, noting how participants were scantily dressed, and “Mamma Phemie was shaking her breasts in rhythm to the drum” (Saxon 1928, 318).

Suddenly, she stood in the middle of the room and shouted: “Zombi!” Saxon then described men and women dropping to the floor writhing and moaning. This is an accurate description of people falling to the floor possessed by Li Grand Zombi. Li Grand Zombi is the primary serpent deity of New Orleans Voudou. The term can refer to the family of serpents in the New Orleans Voudou pantheon, as well. When folks are possessed by Zombi, they will writhe on the floor like a snake and hiss.

After a time, Saxon was given a gris gris designed to remedy his fake problem. “They handed me things that had been prepared for me,” Saxon reported. “A small bag containing ashes, hairs from a white horse’s tail, salt and pepper, and some crushed dried leaves; a box containing pecans which had been drilled with holes and in which feathers had been inserted; a bundle of feathers, wound around with dried grass” (Saxon 1928, 318).

Saxon was told to take the items he had been given and throw them one at a time in the path of his enemy. The feather bundle was to be put inside his rival’s pillow, while the pecans should be placed at his front door. When he next saw his enemy, he was told to throw some salt behind him as he left, which is believed to keep an unwanted person from returning. He was given an orange from St. Maroon’s altar to eat to provide him with strength. “It could not fail me now, for St. Maroon had blessed it. Had I not seen this miracle?” (Saxon 1928, 319).

Through this experience—one that he had the privilege of attending though doing so through deceptive means—Saxon maintained a special level of arrogance. His description of the ceremony moved from sexual to animalistic. He described attempted sexual assault, men biting women, and women being hurled halfway across the room. He said people were crashing against him in the dark, and wine was poured on him.

It wasn’t long before he ran like a little bitch out of the ceremony, sick to his stomach and scared to death. As he crawled on the floor toward the door, he reached desperately for his clothes and was spotted. Robert asked him if he was okay. All Saxon could do was a motion to let him pass.

“Out! I’m going out! Get out of the way!” he exclaimed.

One of the attendants standing guard outside took him by the arm and escorted him off the property, down an alley, and finally through a gate.

Saxon was so sick all he could do was lean against a lamppost. “Finally, the spasm of nausea passed, and I stagger along the dim streets, back toward a sane world which tells me that Voodoo no longer exists—if it ever existed!” (Saxon 1928, 322).

*Excerpted from Witch Queens, Voodoo Spirits, and Hoodoo Saints: A Guide to Magickal New Orleans

Explore the course, Who's Who in Hoodoo History to learn the stories of the OGs of Hoodoo. https://www.crossroadsuniversity.com/courses/who-s-who-in-hoodoo-history

#neworleansvoodoo #hoodoo #conjure #rootwork #mammaphemie #lylesaxon #crossroadsuniversity

[memories-of-ancients]

Cooking an Anglo-Saxon Meal

from SCC Archeaology

#history #middle ages #cooking #Youtube

[max1461]

People who advocate communal living over the nuclear family don’t know anything about communal living or what it’s like, and probably believe the nuclear family was invented in America in the 50s.

Fact: nuclear family styled homes have been the norm among Germanic and Anglo-Saxon since medieval times. Further evidence suggests nuclear families existed in the Stone Age.

Fact: communal living is usually a recipe for gerontocratic inbred filth-living. “Oh, grandpa molested the girls again. Oh well, he’s the patriarch and we can’t do anything about it. Time to go sleep on a wide bed with my six cousins. My mom will cook for me until she dies. They’ll arrange marriages for me because how the fuck would people date in a living situation like this?”

Fact: the nuclear family offers more freedom for the kids and the parents both

Fact: the only reason people rail against the nuclear family now is because homes are so expensive. If homeownership became easy and commonplace again, people would want to live on their own with their spouse and young kids

This is all clearly very BAP influenced, and your latter three "facts" are just opinions (BAP's opinions I gather), and not very well substantiated ones at that.

More importantly, the longhouse arrangement is not what I was referring to when I talked about "more communal child rearing". I described a situation in which

Children have physical autonomy to move around within a community freely and leave the home without parental oversight

The responsibilities of childcare are understood to be distributed throughout the community, to the various adults in whatever measure they can provide

Children are free to associate with those adults they feel most comfortable around. I have heard (but not corroborated), in the context of the Caribbean where I gather childcare is often more distributed in this way, of children essentially "voluntarily adopting themselves" into other families that they liked better than their own.

The interactions that adults have with children are essentially open to public scrutiny by other adults, an expansion of the way that universal public schooling makes the abuses of parents more visible to other adults who can intervene.

The situation you describe, where "grandpa can molest the girls because he's the patriarch", is precisely the situation I'm trying to avoid. That is the outcome of nuclear family. Nuclear family, children isolated to the home and treated as property of their parents with no say in the matter, that's a child abuse factory.

BAP is all aesthetics. I'm not saying he has nothing of value to offer at all (I don't know, I haven't read him), but he does not have policy, he does not offer mechanisms. I (attempt to) offer mechanisms. They might not be perfect, or fully fleshed out, but they are a start. Come debate me at that level instead of saying "FACT: [opinion]".

#anon #society

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Norsemen & Anglo-Saxons Chapter 4

Any Viking/Norse words and customs were found on Google, so if it's incorrect please educate me!!

Summary: Princess Y/N has a secret that her parents are ashamed of.  A conquering Viking chief recognizes the gift she has.  Will they be able to bring peace between warring people, and maybe find love along the way?

Viking!Bucky Warnings: eventual smut, abuse, violence, animal attack, blood

Y/N and Bucky learned more about their now shared power together as the months went on.  She was able to teach him what she already knew, and with the help of Winnifred and the other Seer woman who married them, Wanda, they were able to learn how to use their powers more effectively.  They were moved into their own longhouse, where Y/N got into the swing of being a wife.  Since she had lived the privileged life of a princess she was not used to cooking or taking care of a house on her own, but had immense help from her neighbors and Bucky.  She practiced their language and was coming along with it nicely, although she had trouble with some words and phrases.  Bucky also taught her how to use a sword and a bow and arrow, both for fighting and for hunting.  

She killed her first deer within a few months of learning and was able to skin and prepare it all on her own.  Bucky was extremely proud of her for working so hard to become accustomed to this new life.  Y/N was quick to make friends and get along well with the people.  She was a born diplomat, and he caught himself smiling while watching her constantly.  

The next winter was fast approaching.  The village had been able to stock up on meats and other foods for the cold, but the season came raging in without warning.  The snow seemed constant, temperatures dropping to levels unseen in decades, freezing the water and making it hard to travel with hardened snow and ice everywhere.  Bigger animals were becoming more desperate for food as the weeks went on, with wolf prints getting increasingly closer to the village.

Y/N was helping one of her neighbors, Laura Barton, bring in some kindling and wood that they chopped up.  Laura had three children, all of them under the age of 10, rowdy, rambunctious and forgetful.  She and her husband Clint tried their best but were outnumbered.  As they finished near nightfall Y/N turned back to the wooded area where they had been and saw the youngest, Nathaniel, toddling back towards their longhouse holding a big stick.  Y/N’s eyes widened as she saw a large, black wolf less than 50 yards away from Nathaniel, the hairs on its back standing and its teeth bared.

“NO!” Y/N took off towards Nathaniel without a second thought.  Laura looked towards Y/N and started screaming when she saw the wolf.  Clint and Bucky, who weren’t far off, heard the screams and came running towards the commotion.  When Bucky saw what Y/N was doing he roared, trying to catch up and run after her.

The wolf started running towards Nathaniel, a menacing growl ripping through the air as it hunted.  Nathaniel looked back and saw the wolf, then started running towards Y/N.  She reached him first, grabbing him and throwing him backwards into a snowbank.  As she faced the wolf she unsheathed the sword Bucky gave her that she had on her hip at all times.  The wolf sped up, undeterred that the easier prey was gone.  She ran towards the wolf, raising the sword and screaming.  Bucky was running but knew he wasn’t going to make it.  “Y/N!  Don’t!”

The wolf leaped at her, the loud bark and her screaming mixing in a horrific ring as they collided.  Bucky couldn't see what happened as the wolf and Y/N fell to the ground, a flurry of fur, her dress and the snow picking up around them.  He bounded up to them, sword drawn, but slowed when he saw the wolf on top of her lifeless.  Her sword was sticking up through its neck, keeping it lifted.

“Y/N?  My star, please,” Bucky cried as he fell to his knees next to the wolf.  “Please,” he said as he tried to look under the wolf’s body.  There was a long pause, then he heard a sputtering sound, her leg poking out from underneath it and trying to push the body off of her.  “Oh, thank the Gods,” Bucky sighed as he stood up and pulled the wolf’s body up off her sword and pushed it away.  It thudded onto the snow, its blood seeping into the white, as Y/N panted next to it.  She was covered in its blood, spitting it out of her mouth as she struggled to sit up since it crushed her deep into the snow.  “You scared the shit out of me, Y/N,” he pulled her up to her feet then grabbed her shoulders.  He shook her, “What were you thinking?!” he yelled, his eyes overflowing with tears.  “You could have died!  What would I have done without you, Asynja?” 

Y/N stared at him as she tried to regain her breath.  She looked at the wolf, a bewildered look on her face, then wiped the blood away from her mouth and eyes as she looked behind Bucky.  Laura was holding Nathaniel, kneeling in the snow crying as Clint prayed to the sky next to them.  “I…I couldn’t just watch him die,” Y/N breathed, her eyes finding him again.  Bucky shook his head then pulled her into his embrace.  He shook as he pet her hair, hugging her too tight and kissing the top of her head.  

“You crazy woman,” he sighed as he pulled back.  He looked down at the wolf.  “You just survived your first battle.  My little Valkyrie,” he smirked at her.  

Y/N snorted at him.  Bucky pulled the wolf by its leg with his metal hand and wound his flesh arm around her, guiding her back to the village.  By this point a crowd had gathered and seen the aftermath of what had happened.  Laura ran up to Y/N, still holding Nathaniel.  “Thank you, Drottning!” she cried, hugging Y/N with one arm and kissing her forehead.  Y/N checked on Nathaniel, who was crying but overall physically unharmed.  Winnifred came forward from the crowd and raised her hands towards the sky.  

“Our warrior queen!” she shouted, and the people behind her cheered.  Y/N ducked her head, feeling overwhelmed by the attention and still reeling from the near death experience.  “You have done well, my child,” Winnifred walked over to them.  “We will have it skinned and its body used as your adornment.  Then you are ready to receive your first marking.”

“Marking?” Y/N asked.

“Like mine,” Bucky reminded her.  

Y/N nodded, still in a daze.  “Will it hurt?”

“Probably,” Bucky tightened his hold on her.  “But you just survived a wolf, I think you can handle a sharp point.”

Y/N sighed heavily.  “I just need to wash,” she quietly whined so only he could hear.

Bucky gave her a knowing smile and nodded.  He let his mother and a few others take the wolf’s body and led her through the people to their longhouse.  As he prepared some water over the fire to warm up for the bath Y/N was outside using snow to get as much of the blood off as possible.  Her hands shook, both from the cold and from the shock.  She hadn’t even thought through what she was doing when she saw the wolf hunting Nathaniel.  She knew it was dangerous, had maybe a flash of a moment of self-preservation, but her feet had moved faster than her mind.  She walked back into the longhouse once she got most of it off then stripped out of her clothes as Bucky filled the bath with warm water.

He helped her ease into the water and reached for the washing bar.  He helped lather her, cleaning her body and her hair, making sure to help her get any remaining blood off.  The warm water helped her muscles ease and she felt like she could breathe normally again.  As Bucky washed her back she brought her legs up to her chest.  Her body shook with sobs as the events unfolded in her mind, replaying the fear over and over, the feeling of the wolf’s heavy body tackling her, the screams, the growling, but most of all, the feeling of rage that licked through her veins as she had run towards the wolf.  She had scared herself in that moment, not knowing what had come over her.

“My Asynja,” Bucky leaned forward and kissed her back.  “It’s alright.  The first battle is always the hardest to recover from.”

“I wasn’t scared of the wolf,” Y/N whispered.  Bucky moved so he could look at her.  “I was scared of me,” she looked at him.  “The…anger, I felt.  The rage.  It was blinding.  Overpowering.  I didn’t…recognize myself,” she sniffled as her hold tightened around her legs.

“Hm, the berserker,” Bucky nodded.  “You really are learning our ways quickly.”  His metal fingers caressed her arm.  “It’s something I’ve only ever felt a few times.  It is…like a trance.  I didn’t feel like myself for a while,” he leaned forward and kissed her shoulder.  “But you used it to save someone and protect your people.  Just for that you’ll be welcomed into the halls of Valhalla, as the Valkyrie, the shield maiden, that you are.”  His eyes became sad again.  “But…I can’t lose you my Drottning,” he said quietly.

Y/N watched him.  They had been married for almost a year now, had shared their bodies with each other frequently, and became good friends.  Love had never crossed Y/N’s mind growing up because as nice as that would be, it was rare when she knew she would be married off to a man she didn’t get to choose for the sake of an advantageous match, or like in this case, a kind of peace treaty.  Love was few and far between for arranged marriages.  But she had been feeling something blooming between them, even from their first meeting when he had recognized her as the one with real power.  It was deeper, encompassing, and after her power had been shared with him, at times it felt like she could feel him in her mind, even when he wasn’t nearby.  

She reached a hand out and cupped his cheek.  He nuzzled her palm, his eyes closing at her touch.  Her power slipped into his mind.  His thoughts were replaying the wolf attacking her, his fear and worry etched into the lines of his face.  What surprised her was the deep despair she felt from him when he thought she was dead, the sound of his cry resounding in her head.  

“Bucky,” she breathed.  Her fingers scratched his beard softly as he met her gaze.  “I love you.”

Bucky froze, his eyes widened and his breathing stopped.  Y/N waited for him to process.  His eyes fluttered shut and he suddenly grabbed her and hauled her out of the tub.  She yelped as he carried her over to their bed.  He sat her on the edge of the bed, dripping all over the furs and blankets, looking at him questioningly.

He kneeled in front of her and lifted up her feet.  He kissed the top of each foot before kissing a line up one leg and then the other.  His hands softly skimmed her skin following his lips as he traveled up her body.  He reached her hands and kissed the tip of each finger, something he did often as a display of affection and respect for her power. By the time he reached her neck she was panting, her hands clenching the wooden frame of the bed.  “To be loved by a goddess,” he whispered against her neck, “is one of the highest honors I could only ever hope to achieve.”

“I’m not a goddess, Bucky,” Y/N said as he kissed her jaw.

“You are, daughter of Freya,” he kissed her cheeks.  “My Drottning,” he kissed her nose, “my Asynja,” he kissed her forehead, “Astrid, my star,” he tipped her head down to kiss the top of her head.  He skimmed his lips back down to the corner of her mouth.  “My love,” he whispered, his eyes looking between hers.  “I love you.”

Y/N rushed forward and kissed him.  He returned it passionately as he pushed her back onto the bed.  He quickly rid himself of his clothes as he crawled on top of her.  As much as they had been together before, none of it seemed to compare to this time.  The love encircling them was making it feel like this was fated from the beginning of time.  Bucky made love to her over and over, holding off his own pleasure until he had her begging for him to fill her. 

For the first time Y/N found herself on top of him, gripping his shoulders as she rolled her hips on him.  “That’s right, my love, take what you need,” Bucky groaned.  

“Buck…” Y/N whined, her pace staggered as he reached even deeper.  He flicked her little spot with his metal thumb, the cool metal against her heated core making her see stars.  “You were made to be inside me…”

“Gods yes,” Bucky held her hips tightly as he thrust upwards into her.  Y/N shuddered.  

“My sun, my moon and stars,” she leaned down and kissed his chest as he kept thrusting into her.  His eyes rolled in his head as the pleasure was rapidly becoming too much.  “You were destined for me, and I for you,” she gasped.  Her fingertips started glowing green as her hands were keeping her upright on his chest.  Bucky’s flesh hand started to glow as well as his thrusts hurried.  “My love, my life…” 

With a few more quick flicks to her spot Y/N was cumming, her body shaking over him as her pussy squeezed him, a low whine passing her lips.  Bucky groaned, his back arching as he finished and filled her.  There was a low rumble from the earth underneath them, the wind whipping what sounded like a cheer through the longhouse.  Y/N felt a strange tingling sensation inside her as Bucky’s cock pulsed inside her and looked down.  A light glow was shining at the bottom of her stomach.  She stiffened as she looked at it.  Bucky followed her eye line and saw it before it vanished, his eyes widening.  They looked back at each other.

”Do you think—“ Bucky started.

”Maybe,” Y/N whispered.

Bucky laughed, his hands squeezing her hips lightly.  He rolled over so she was laying on her back with him still inside her.  He started kissing her all over her face.  “My wife, my love, carrying my baby,” he said breathlessly.

”We don’t know for sure, love,” Y/N giggled as he continued kissing down her jaw and her neck.

”My baby,” Bucky’s metal hand slid down to her stomach, resting where he was deep inside her.  He smiled, his eyes meeting hers.  

Y/N smiled back at him, knowing he was probably right.  “Our child.”

**picture is A.I. from Pinterest, unknown original "artist" or "creator"**

One more chapter after this!

@wintrsoldrluvr

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel #smut #viking!bucky barnes x reader #viking!bucky barnes #viking #medieval #chapter 4 #princess!reader #powers!reader #magic

[soupandmushrooms]

Daldinia concentrica

Commonly referred to as King Alfred's cake, cramp balls, and coal fungus.

The reasons for these names are as follows:

Due to their burnt appearance their common name King Alfreds cake is a reference to the Anglo-Saxon king of England in the 9th century. There is a myth that after being given shelter by a peasant woman Alfred was reputed to have inadvertently allowed her cakes to burn, having promised that he would watch them cooking in return for the shelter.

People used to believe that carrying the fruiting body of one of these mushrooms would cure having cramp, hence the name cramp balls.

The fruiting body is also said to resemble a lump of coal due to its colour and size. The fungi can also be used as tinder for lighting fires, and may have been used as far back as the stoneage!

Daldinia concentrica are common in Europe, North America and Australia but they can be found all over the earth in temperate climates. They are found on dead or decaying wood, most often on ash and beech trees.

The fungi is a member of the Daldinia genus this means that inside the fruitbody there are concentric silver/grey and black layers, like tree rings these layers are related to seasonal growth. Many insects and small animals make their homes in the fungus.

Growing members of this species are a pinkish brown, turning black once they are fully grown. 

Some examples of young Daldinia concentrica:

Examples of the rings:

This fungus is inedible.

#Hiii im back #this week went super quick for me #tysm to all the people who have followed me! #Daldinia Genus #soupandmushrooms #fungi #mushrooms #fungus #foraging

[merovingian-marvels]

Hanging Bowl

A hanging bowl is as always an object named after its function and looks. It’s a bowl that is hung up.

These bowls as a whole are solely found in Anglo-Saxon England. Usually there are three to four mounts/loops to which hooks can be attached. The bowl itself was then used possibly to cook food above an open fire or to store food out of reach of rodents or snacking relatives. Also possible is that they were rather used for storing items such as toiletries, valuables or handicraft tools. Some smaller bowls were suspected to function as large oil lamps.

Sometimes these bowls were very decorated. The outside could include different color appliqués, kerbschnitt or other. The inside could also be decorated, for example with patterns or little statuettes in the centre of the bowl. Since only few lucky examples survive burial and the lack of bowls on the European mainland or Scandinavia make it hard to specifically attest a use to hanging bowls.

These bowls were part of more upper class yet not royal households and were most likely used inside the house only.

The British Museum, London - United Kingdom

Museum nr: 1939,1010.110

Found in: Sutton Hoo, Woodbridge - Suffolk - United Kingdom

#frankish #merovingian #viking archaeology #archaeology #carolingian #charlemagne #field archaeology #viking mythology #merovingian archaeology #germanic mythology #norse mythology #anglo saxon #field archaeologist #frisian #odin #viking #vikings #germanic #germanic folklore #germanic archaeology #wodan #anglo saxon archaeology #history #jewelry #norse

[yieldfruit]

On the topic of homeschooling, I don't have any degree in teaching so how should I teach my future kids?

You do not need an education/teaching degree to teach. However, you do need to be prepared, not lazy, and enjoy learning yourself (and patient). For younger years, learn through play–go outside often, go to museums, make nature your textbook to teach and learn so much, read to them as often as you can, teach them to read, teach basic math while cooking, play with animals, travel, volunteer, etc. Learning is fun!

As you get into older ages, there are brick and mortar and online stores to find textbooks and learning resources. Have fun with it, explore, buy what looks interesting. I recommend Saxon Math for teaching math, personally. Find history books that aren't woke. Find science books that teach creationism. Teach your children cursive. It's important to have a solid foundation of Math and English, these are the building blocks of other subjects. Teach children to reason, to think through things, think critically.

There are also homeschooling co-ops or even charter schools you can look into as children get older. Get a tutor in certain subjects if need be.

[windsweptinred]

We cooked up an Anglo Saxon meal tonight for my daughter's homework. Pottage and creamy berries. As is right and proper we've dressed up for the occasion...I opted for the monks robe. I've spent the evening flouncing round in a habit. I can see why Destiny does it... It's like a hoodie and maxi dress had a love child. Warm, yet breathable with a definitive air of.. Piss off. I may keep it for lazy Sunday lounge wear. 😆

#Windswept rambles

[alexmey-does-an-arts]

for the hcs ask. dr smith cannot cook. like at all. every time he poisons his husband with it most of the time it’s intentional but in the rare occasion it’s not it happens anyway because he is truly just that bad. he says eating his cooking ‘builds immunity’. a human ate his chicken nuggets once and died three days later of kidney failure.

conversely, dr saxon can cook but refuses to solely to piss dr smith off. it is far funnier to him watching dr smith make the worlds worst mistakes with basic recipes than to fix them. has definitely attempted to make dr smiths cooking bad enough to give him carbon monoxide poisoning but forgot they lived in the same house, resulting in both of them passing out on top of each other.

i love your idiot looney tunes scientists so much

you took this headcanon directly from my brain YOU GET IT. CANON NOW.

#morally bankrupt scientists #dr smith #dr saxon

[greatbritishsimchallenge]

"Welcome home, husband."

"Why are the children here? They should be in the nursery," said Cassian, irritated.

Margery handed baby Charlotte to a nearby servant and, once the children had been led away, tried again.

"Did you have a pleasant journey?"

"No. It was long and dull and far too hot while we were in Tartosa and far too cold while we were in England. All I want now is a hot bath and a hearty meal."

"I suspected you would want as much. I've had the cook roast a whole suckling pig and a bath is being run as we speak.... I thought I might be the one to sponge you clean tonight and you can tell me about your trip."

"That trip was for my mother's funeral. Not exactly something I feel like discussing while you give me a sad, soapy fondle," Cassian retorted.

"I see your trip has done nothing to improve your manners," spat Margery, turning to go inside.

Cassian signalled a servant over to him, "Have word sent to Lady Regina and fetch my horse."

Start (Iron Age) | Start (Roman Britain) | Start (Anglo Saxon) | Start (Medieval) | Start (Tudor)

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#sims 4 history challenge

[mariacallous]

I know my tastes and experiences are very American, but that neither means native American nor rock-ribbed Anglo-Saxon. I firmly believe that if you have landed here and live here, you are American no matter what your ethnic background. If you cook the foods of your background or use its culinary ingredients, you can call it American. What’s more, your cuisine has probably added a great deal to a wide variety of kinds of cooking.

Barbara Kafka, The Opinionated Palate: Passions and Peeves on Eating and Food

[mariana-oconnor]

Black Peter pt 2

I still maintain that Captain Carey shot himself with a harpoon. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Alighting at the small wayside station, we drove for some miles through the remains of widespread woods, which were once part of that great forest which for so long held the Saxon invaders at bay—the impenetrable “weald,” for sixty years the bulwark of Britain.

A mini history lesson from Watson for us. Was not expecting that. Thank you. This is very informative. And also an interesting little critical aside about industrialisation and deforestation in the Victorian era.

Stanley Hopkins [...] introduced us to a haggard, grey-haired woman, the widow of the murdered man, whose gaunt and deep-lined face, with the furtive look of terror in the depths of her red-rimmed eyes, told of the years of hardship and ill-usage which she had endured. With her was her daughter, a pale, fair-haired girl, whose eyes blazed defiantly at us as she told us that she was glad that her father was dead, and that she blessed the hand which had struck him down.

Firstly, good for her. Secondly, do these ladies not get names? No names available for them? They have to be immortalised only in their relationship to an abusive dead man. Although I supposed the daughter is described as 'her' daughter rather than Carey's.

Clearly they aren't viable suspects if they don't have names. Pity. They deserved to do it.

Stanley Hopkins drew the key from his pocket, and had stooped to the lock, when he paused with a look of attention and surprise upon his face. “Someone has been tampering with it,” he said.

Someone wanted their book back, perhaps? But apparently someone not very good at picking locks. Sucks to be them.

"Let us walk in these beautiful woods, Watson, and give a few hours to the birds and the flowers."

He does love his walks through the countryside.

It was past eleven o'clock when we formed our little ambuscade.

Excellent word. This is the second time it has arisen. Means 'ambush' and last time we saw it, I believe, was when the poor cook in Wisteria Lodge was arrested for a crime he did not commit, that the police officer in charge of arresting him knew he did not commit. That's an unfortunate connotation for a good word.

What savage creature was it which might steal upon us out of the darkness? Was it a fierce tiger of crime, which could only be taken fighting hard with flashing fang and claw, or would it prove to be some skulking jackal, dangerous only to the weak and unguarded?

Watson's really getting into this. We're back with the tigers again, but also Jackals. Rude, btw. Anubis might want a word. Jackals hunt bigger animals in groups. Honestly, I wouldn't want to meet a tiger or a jackal in the middle of the night.

'Tiger of Crime', though. What a phrase.

The nocturnal visitor was a young man, frail and thin, with a black moustache which intensified the deadly pallor of his face. He could not have been much above twenty years of age. I have never seen any human being who appeared to be in such a pitiable fright, for his teeth were visibly chattering and he was shaking in every limb. He was dressed like a gentleman, in Norfolk jacket and knickerbockers, with a cloth cap upon his head.

This was all very atmospheric until we got to the word knickerbockers, which just isn't a word I can ever take seriously. Honestly the problem with knickerbockers is that when you actually see a picture of them, they're really very boring looking. They shouldn't be. It's such a comedic word.

He returned with a large book, one of the log-books which formed a line upon the shelves. Leaning on the table he rapidly turned over the leaves of this volume until he came to the entry which he sought. Then, with an angry gesture of his clenched hand, he closed the book, replaced it in the corner, and put out the light.

OK, so not after the book they found, but just after some information from one of the books. Hmmmm.

“First of all, what is your name?” “It is John Hopley Neligan.”

Well now you've got a name, you're definitely a suspect. Luckily for you it has the same initials as in the book they found, which officially makes you Too Obvious.

“Can I speak confidentially?” “No, certainly not.”

At least they are being honest with him.

"It has always been said that my father stole all the securities and fled. It is not true. It was his belief that if he were given time in which to realize them all would be well and every creditor paid in full. He started in his little yacht for Norway just before the warrant was issued for his arrest."

...

Bye! I'm off to Norway, but I'm totes innocent and not stealing any money. See you!

"He left us a list of the securities he was taking, and he swore that he would come back with his honour cleared, and that none who had trusted him would suffer. Well, no word was ever heard from him again. Both the yacht and he vanished utterly."

... John... I hate to break this to you, but I don't think he was going to Norway to work things out.

Like, maybe in the story he was, but this is just such a fake death. "Daddy's gone to Norway to make everything better, little Johnny!" Mmhmm. The only way this could amuse me more is if he were in a canoe.

"We had a faithful friend, however, who is a business man, and it was he who discovered some time ago that some of the securities which my father had with him have reappeared on the London market."

You astonish me.

The entire framing of this story makes me feel like in the story Neligan Sr. is as innocent as his son believes and was done dastardly by Captain Carey in some way, but this story is so unbelievable. Gonna just nope out of there and sail to fucking Norway and that will totally solve all our problems? The logic. The reason. The chivalry of leaving your wife and child behind to deal with the disgrace and your disappearance alone. Daddy was a dickhead, Johnny boy.

"It struck me that if I could see what occurred in the month of August, 1883, on board the Sea Unicorn, I might settle the mystery of my father's fate."

Yes, I am going to put a narwhal gif whenever the ship name comes up. If ACD didn't want this to happen, he should have named the ship something else.

“You have nothing else to tell us?” He hesitated. “No; there is nothing.”

“Then how do you account for that?” cried Hopkins, as he held up the damning note-book, with the initials of our prisoner on the first leaf and the blood-stain on the cover.

Hopkins is really channelling Holmes here with his dramatic reveal.

And it seems like Neligan Jr here really should have been coming back to get his own book. He just didn't realise he'd dropped it. Which is weird. If I had been at a murder site earlier and then found out I had lost something, my mind would immediately spiral into 'oh shit, you dropped it at the murder site, you utter numpty', but apparently John Neligan does not doom spiral like I do. Apparently this possibility hasn't even occurred to him. Not a thought between those ears, huh?

“That is enough,” said Hopkins, sternly. “Whatever else you have to say you must say in court."

Or... you might say... You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say can be given in evidence.

Or... something like that. Eventually. When the official Police Caution comes in.

"As it turns out your presence was unnecessary, and I would have brought the case to this successful issue without you..."

Ah. Hopkins. You were doing so well up to this point. But now you've gone and cursed yourself. Sorry. I don't make the rules.

And then they all went to tea at the Brambletye Hotel and had lashings of tea.

But no... there is still another part. Obviously, because we all know Captain Carey was killed in a (not so) tragic Harpoon cleaning accident, so Mr Neligan has to be freed.

#Letters from Watson #Sherlock Holmes #Black Peter #long post

[doctorbaronmariusvonraum]

Do you enjoy eating? If so, what's your favourite food?

I do enjoy properly cooked meals, though that can be a rare occurrence on the Aurora - somehow whenever I try to cook, it always ends up going horribly wrong, and of course the Toy Soldier hasn’t quite grasped the point of food and so its attempts to cook are inedible at best and fatal at worst. Jonny is a surprisingly good cook, but he can rarely be bothered and trying to convince him to cook for me usually ends with me dead on the floor! Brian cooks with the mechanical precision of mass produced factory food - it is technically perfect, but lacking, ironically, the heart that should go into a good meal. Raphaella is an excellent baker (comes with being a chemist, I suppose) but her food cannot be trusted and often contains poison or experimental chemicals! Ashes cannot resist the temptation to burn anything that requires cooking into, well, ash. Tim doesn’t have the patience for cooking. As such, I don’t really get to eat good food often enough to have specific favourites, though I do remember eating a delicious dish back on Fort Galfridian made with scorpion meat - shame the lovely saxon man who made it for me is dead now..

#{went a little off-topic but I thought it would be fun to share some of my own headcanons} #{listen obviously the saxons are accustomed to killing the scorpions with their knives and they can’t only eat dead people} #{the saxon man who brought him food is totally a saxon parallel to galahad with marius being thought of as a prophet source that one post} #marius.txt #asks #anon #{yeah tim has spadhd Im right fight me} #ask the mechs

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Norsemen & Anglo-Saxons Chapter 5 FINAL

Any Viking/Norse words and customs were found on Google, so if it's incorrect please educate me!! Summary: Princess Y/N has a secret that her parents are ashamed of.  A conquering Viking chief recognizes the gift she has.  Will they be able to bring peace between warring people, and maybe find love along the way?

Viking!Bucky Warnings: eventual smut, abuse, violence, animal attack, blood

A week later was Y/N’s marking ceremony.  The first marking was always cause for celebration and was meant to depict the battle won.  As Y/N sat in a chair in the temple with her left arm bare, Bucky stood off to the side with Winnifred and Wanda while another woman was getting a small table ready with ink and a sharp tool.  

“Your first marking is a great honor and privilege,” Wanda stepped forward as the woman dipped the sharp tool into the ink.  “It will reflect what you conquered…a great wolf,” she touched Y/N’s upper arm.  

The first tap of the tool was the worst as it pierced Y/N’s skin.  She gritted her teeth as a hiss passed through her lips.  Bucky stepped forward and held her free hand as the woman continued.  She sat there for what felt like an eternity as the woman hammered the tool into her skin.  When she almost felt like she couldn’t take anymore the woman finally swiped the excess ink and blood away, pouring a solution over her arm that helped the aching throb minimize slightly.

”Please say you’re done,” Y/N pleaded.

”Finished,” the woman smiled at her as she took her things and left.

Y/N looked down at her arm.  On her upper left arm was the outline of a wolf body with intricate swirls and lines inside the outline.  Underneath the wolf were a few symbols.  “What do the runes mean?” she asked, looking at Bucky.

”Wolf warrior,” he explained, his finger sliding near the marking.  

Y/N nodded as Wanda came over.  She hovered her hands over Y/N’s marking and said a prayer before taking a bandage and wrapping it around her arm.  “Wash it with water daily and keep it wrapped until it is healed, Drottning,” she instructed her.  “The Gods are pleased with you, Y/N Astrid.”

***

Y/N was cooking one day when she first felt it.  A tiny flutter, nearly unnoticeable.  She dropped the spoon she was using in the pot as her hands flew to her stomach.  She waited until…there it was again!  Her monthly had not come for a few months now, and as much as she assumed she was with child, she didn’t want to be hasty in telling Bucky or anyone else until she felt it.  She had felt her stomach becoming slightly firmer over the past weeks, a small bump forming at the pit of her stomach, but this confirmed it for her.  The quickening.

”Bucky!” She called for him out the front door.  He had gone to a friend’s longhouse not far down from theirs.  He was already running towards her by the time she said his name.

”I felt you,” he said, his eyes wide as he approached her.  “In my head, it was like I felt and heard you call before you did,” he cupped her face in his hands.  “What’s wrong?”

”Nothing is wrong,” Y/N smiled.  She pulled him inside and sat on their bed with him.  She took his hand and nestled it on her stomach.  He waited for a few moments until he felt a tiny push back onto his fingers.  His eyes widened again as he stared at her.  “It’s happening,” Y/N whispered, her eyes starting to fill with tears.  

“It’s…my…Y/N,” he kneeled in front of her, putting both of his hands on her stomach.  He waited again, giving her stomach a small push then feeling the tiny push back, like it was indignant with his prodding.  He let out a breathy laugh, his smile wide as he looked back up at her.  “Our child.”

Y/N nodded, her hands now cupping his face as her tears fell.  “Our child.”

Months later she was in labor.  She gripped Bucky’s hand as she pushed for what felt like the millionth time.  “That’s it, Drottning, you’re almost there,” Wanda encouraged her, sitting at the end of the bed in between Y/N’s legs.

“I can’t…I can’t…” Y/N cried.  She was so tired.  

“You can, you can, my love,” Bucky said, opening her hand and kissing each of her fingers.  His fingertips glowed as he tried to help lessen the pain.  The tension Y/N was feeling ebbed away slightly as her muscles relaxed.  “There you go, my star, you can do this.  Just a little more.”

“I need to move,” Y/N said suddenly, trying to haul herself up off her back.  Bucky and Wanda helped her get on all fours on the bed.  “Okay…” she breathed slowly, feeling the energy inside her move.  She rocked back and forth on her hands and knees.  “I need to push.”

”Then push,” Wanda said, rubbing Y/N’s lower back.  

Y/N bared down, arching her back a little as she pushed.  She felt the pain increase tenfold, making her scream, until the pressure finally rushed out of her as the baby slipped out.  Wanda caught the baby easily in the blanket she was holding.  “Congratulations, it’s a boy,” she smiled as she handed the baby to an accompanying midwife to clean.

”A boy!” Bucky cried, watching the midwife hold him.  “You hear that Y/N, a boy.  You did so well, my love.”

”It’s not over,” Y/N gritted her teeth.  “I knew it…there’s another one.”

”What?” Bucky gasped as she rocked back and forth again.

Wanda peeked down and nodded.  “She’s right, there’s another baby.  Twins!  Good instincts, Drottning,” she said, putting pressure on her lower back again.  “Are you ready?”

”Yes…” Y/N grunted as she felt the pressure build again.  “Freya help me…” she prayed as she bared down again.  The pain wasn’t as bad this time as she felt the baby slip, letting out a pained whimper this time.  The baby came out wriggling and immediately screaming, unlike its brother.

”This one is a…girl,” Wanda announced, a wide smile on her face.  “Two babies, Drottning.  You’ve earned another marking.”

”Not unless it’s a small one,” Y/N sassed back as she dropped to her elbows.

”A girl…” Bucky watched on in wonder as the two babies were cleaned.  The boy was healthy but quiet and calm, almost like he was annoyed at having to be pushed out into his new home and trying to get back to sleep.  The girl was a fighter, wriggling and screaming like she was cursing the midwives that held her.  Wanda cleaned Y/N once the afterbirth was out and had her lay on her side.

”Your children,” Wanda said as she and the midwife presented the babies to Y/N, laying them both by her on the bed.  Bucky chuckled as he looked at them both.  Tears fell from his eyes as he held a finger out to the girl who was closest to him.  The girl gripped his finger and started to calm herself as he rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb.

”Two babies…how did you know?” Bucky looked at Y/N.

Y/N sighed.  “I wasn’t sure, I just had a feeling, like there were two energies inside me,” she breathed.  She held her finger out to the boy close to her, who seemed to lazily hold her finger as she stroked his cheek.

”What do we call them?” Bucky asked, dipping his face near the babies, kissing their heads lightly.

”We should honor the Aesir,” Y/N said quietly, her eyelids drooping with exhaustion.  “Freyr,” she nodded to the boy, “and Freya,” she pointed at the girl.

”After the twin gods,” Bucky’s smile widened.  “My love,” he reached his free hand out and cupped Y/N’s cheek.  She nuzzled his hand softly.  “I’m so proud of you.”

”I love you,” Y/N whispered.

***

12 years later

Y/N hauled another load of wood into the longhouse as she finished breakfast.  The children were outside with Bucky, holding their wooden swords as he helped them train.  The spring had set in and she was enjoying the sun and the children being outside more rather than driving her insane cooped up inside during the long winter months.  

“Baldr, if you jab like this, it’s a more effective kill,” Bucky instructed, twisting his son’s wrist a certain way.  Baldr nodded, then tried it alone.  “That’s it, my boy.  Okay, Freya, your turn.”

Y/N watched as the five of them fought together.  The Gods had blessed them with another set of twins a couple of years after the first, another girl and boy pair they named Baldr and Thyra.  She watched as Freya lithely attacked Bucky, her movements hurried but methodical.  She was never one to back down from a challenge.  Freyr looked on, ever the quiet one, who would rather watch and plan ahead than just jump in.  Baldr was boisterous and lived up to his name from the God of Radiance, his exuberance and excitement ever present.  Thyra wasn’t interested in training, she was the spiritually in tune one, only ever wanting to be out in nature, always sticking to Y/N when she could and learning more about the powers that they all held.

“Jarl!” A shout rang out through the village.  Bucky immediately stopped what he was doing, looking at the man who was running towards him.

“What is it, Thor?”

”An English ship, asking permission to come ashore!” Thor said as he ran up to Bucky, his eyes looking wild and worried.

Y/N came outside as he delivered the news.  Bucky’s eye met hers in alarm.  Y/N shook her head.  “Are you sure it’s an English ship?”

”Yes, Drottning,” Thor assured her.  “I’m surprised they even asked for permission.”

”Children, stay here,” Bucky instructed them.  “Y/N,” he said, holding his hand out to her.  She quickly took it as he walked towards the shore.

When they saw the ship afar off they both froze.  “Is that your family’s flag?” Bucky asked her, his hand squeezing hers tightly.

”Yes,” she breathed.  

Bucky instructed his people to let them ashore.  A few boats from the ship were loaded with people and they started rowing towards the shore.  Y/N paced back and forth, her power rolling around her fingertips and subtly branching out to the water.  She read the energies of the people on the boats.

”My father isn’t there,” she said.  Bucky looked at her.  “They aren’t here to hurt us,” she said with a trembling voice.  “It’s…something else.”

After a long while the boats finally made it.  The people slowly stepped ashore and held their hands and weapons up in surrender.  One person, a young man, stepped forward.  “We’ve come in peace, we mean no harm.”

Bucky stepped forward as he walked toward the young man.  “Then what are you here for?”

The young man huffed a laugh.  “My goodness, Jarl James Barnes, you look almost exactly the same,” he smiled.  He took a step forward and held out his hand.  “You probably don’t remember me.  My name is Alfred.”

Y/N gasped as she looked at him more closely.  Bucky looked back at her, Alfred following his gaze until it settled on Y/N.  He froze.  “Y/N?” Alfred asked hesitantly.

“Alfie?” Y/N said as she slowly walked to him.  

Bucky smiled.  “Alfie, of course, you were just a boy,” he laughed.  He shook his hand then gestured for him to approach Y/N.  She looked at him carefully.  The same mop of hair on his head, the same eyes, but now on an older, more handsome face, and a whole head taller than her.  He looked like their mother mostly, but with their father’s stern brow.  Y/N slowly walked over to him and stopped when she was a foot away from him.  She reached a hand out and touched his face.  Her power slipped into his mind, and it finally convinced her.

“Alfie,” she sniffled.  She opened her arms and he quickly hugged her.  He cried as he nestled his face into her neck.

“It is you,” he laughed, muffled into her shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N said incredulously.  She pulled back and held his face.  “You’re so tall!  So grown up…” she cried as she looked him over.  

“Father finally died,” Alfie said as he took her hands into his.  “I wanted to visit you from the moment you left but he forbade it.”  He squeezed her hands.  “Your securing peace made you a saint in England, and he couldn’t stand it.  I did as you said, like you always taught me,” he smiled widely at her.  “And England is doing better than it has in a hundred years.”

“Of course it is,” Y/N smiled.

Bucky joined them as his men helped the other Englishmen come ashore.  “This calls for a feast.  And lucky for all of you it’s nearing the spring solstice, Eostre is upon us,” he clapped Alfie’s back.  “Come, meet the family.”

“Family?” Alfie said, a wide-eyed look of shock on his face.

They led Alfie and his men to the village, showing them around and introducing them to everyone.  When they reached their personal longhouse Y/N called for the children.  They slowly came out, watching carefully and scrutinizing the people with their parents.  

“My loves,” Y/N reached out to them, “this is my brother, Alfie, the King of England.  He’s your uncle.”

“Uncle?” Freya piped up first.  She fearlessly walked up to him and looked at him strangely.  Alfie held his hand out to her.

“And what’s your name?” he asked.

“Freya Barnes, daughter of Jarl James and Drottning Y/N Astrid,” she introduced herself loudly, shaking his hand firmly.

Alfie smiled, glancing at Y/N amusedly.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, spitfire.  And who are these?”

Y/N pushed the others forward slightly.  “This is Freyr, Baldr, and Thyra.”

They each shook his hand.  Thyra instantly held her hands out for him to hold her.  He glanced again at Y/N who nodded and he picked her up.  She put her hands on his face and looked at him, her eyes boring into his.  After a moment she smiled.  “He is blessed,” she said quietly.

Bucky appeared behind Y/N, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.  He leaned down and kissed her head.  “Thank you,” he said lowly.

“For what?” Y/N said, looking up at him.

“For this,” he gestured to their children and Alfie.  “For helping me bring peace to my people.  For giving me this family.  For raising a good boy to become a good man to be King,” he kissed her forehead.  “For being mine…my star.”

Y/N smiled fondly at him.  She kissed his lips and looked back at her whole family.  Norsemen and Anglo-Saxons really weren’t that different.

**picture is A.I. from Pinterest, unknown original "artist" or "creator"**

THE END! I really hope y'all liked this one, it was a lot of fun to write. I'm going to post a couple of one-shots or short series. If anybody has any suggestions or requests I'm all ears. Reminder: I'm new to this, so please be patient and understanding with me as I figure it all out. Also, I don't do dark!character stuff, so don't ask.

Thank you all for the follows and likes! You're the best. :)

@wintrsoldrluvr

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel #smut #bucky barnes x reader #viking!bucky barnes x reader #viking!bucky barnes #viking #medieval #chapter 5 #final chapter #princess!reader #powers!reader #magic