#like my pair are literally in a partnership but its not marriage!!!!

[nanzyn]

when you try to write a close, platonic relationship that includes a conversation about their relationship to one another and a deep partnership built on companionship but you know people are going to read it into a romantic relationship bc they want to turn every close male-male interaction into a romantic relationship

[wmarximoff]

devoted wife | w. maximoff

summary: you are a devoted wife who is capable of doing anything for your wife's welfare; including letting Wanda release the unhealthy nature that resides within her.

warnings (18+): dark Wanda, dark(ish) reader, brief smut, breeding kink, strap-on sex (Wanda receiving), choking (r receiving), smoking, slightly toxic relationship, explicit depiction of blood, explicit depiction of violence, explicit depiction of dead body, manipulation.

pairing: Wanda x fem!reader

word count: 3k

A/N: i literally wrote this here in one sitting so it's probably not my best work, but i was really inspired by the Love and Death teaser and this idea just wouldn't get out of my head. but hey, don't read if dark topics aren't your cup of tea. this shit is just pure madness.

anyway, enjoy!

|masterlist|

༺ᱬ༻

The smoke is like a pair of dancers dancing a waltz above your head, making love in the air. This time is no different from the last time it happened or even the second to last, although the sky is particularly cloudy and the weather tastes like conformism that is stabilized by a bitterness that consumes you within your stomach.

You inhale from the cigarette you smoke, seeking comfort in the fume, and hold and spray the tobacco through your nostrils, in almost enviable sync with the watery sound that can be found behind your shoulders, which are tucked inside a gray hooded jacket like the fur of a wild wolf; other than the circular call of a remote owl, the only sound heard is the tiny, breathy moans that Wanda lets out here and there as she grunts when she takes gulps of oxygen.

A few unconscious mutters are gasped, puffs leaking from between your wife's peachy lips, who's out of your sight because the right side of your hip is snug against the icy bodywork of your off-road car.

The night is as unsettling in your bones as the fateful sight of a car accident would be, and the song of the night birds hidden among the branches and foliage of the tall trees, with an audience of nightly eyes, brings you a certain ghostly feeling that you are a prey, and not hunter. Yet, in your simplest cognition, you are nothing more than a devoted wife.

And you remember when you first met Wanda, nearly two decades already spent in each other's company. Westview, a tiny town in upstate New Jersey, was not used to welcoming new faces into its suburban structures; and that is why the Maximoff family, made up of an immigrant couple and their two twin children born on American soil (a boy and a girl, both of your age), was an object of study adopted by all the little more than six thousand inhabitants at the time they moved into your neighborhood.

Her brother soon began to walk in the footsteps of the Westview High cool kids troupe (Pietro was a born athlete), but Wanda was like a shy shadow of her older twin, who lived holed up behind thick book pages, with an introverted presence that soon usurped your attention when your attentive gaze scanned her face, who sat at a desk placed to the right of yours during literature classes.

You asked her about five months after you met her properly, and she accepted the proposal just two days later – in college it was a little different with the proposal, because you proposed at a fine restaurant and she accepted at readiness, rewarding your with the purest of smiles gleaming at the commission of her pearly lips, an act showered with a limpid, chaste glint of love that showcased her two front teeth, which were vaguely larger than the rest and gave her a bunny appearance, because she had the habit of fortuitously scrunching a flash of skin from her nose when engendering the act of smiling.

But something withered in Wanda after the first year of marriage between the two of you, a couple still so young, with so much to do in partnership with each other. Your sweet wife was restless when you came home from work, and it was hard to say what was on her mind. Wanda, while possessing a rather emotional nature, was never the type to open up easily, and it was customary for her to bottle up her own feelings when they bothered her too much, when she didn't quite know how to deal with the will growing inside her.

Until she told you, once, after days turned into weeks all had with a certain distance between you and her that, in all your honesty, had your heart constricted inside your chest.

It was late at night, and your room was barely dipped in a haze of yellow light that emanated from a small lamp on the bedside table – you with your eyes wandering over the sentences of some novel open between the palms of your hands, holding the book close to the tip of your nose, as Wanda lied with her milky back turned to you, who assumed that your wife had long been snoring beside you, enjoying a deep night's sleep.

“Something's missing,” her voice came suddenly, prompting your chin to snap back to her, who still hadn't turned to look back at you.

“What's missing, baby?” it was a question you didn't know would prove to be a watershed for the line of normalcy that ruled your life when in a small family of two.

When Wanda shifted in bed, rustling the sheets to turn to look at you, her eyes, once green as a polished emerald stone, were made dark and deep like the moss that grows in the dampness of tree bark, untouched by the sun, away from life. It was that look you'd never seen before take over her pretty features, a numb emptiness that lacked filling, a will found in the confines of the soul that inhabited her body. She looked like a silent doll, staring at you with that verdant expanse that seemed to be able to read your thoughts.

Icy electricity ran along the length of your spine. You never thought that Wanda could give you the chills.

The need building inside her, expanding, taking shape and greater proportions, was thunderous and all-encompassing. It was an itch, a predatory addiction. A strange psychic deficiency, which you could never remedy on your own; it was out of her reach, that was not your role in her life. You were assigned the role of wife, partner, which you gladly accepted, for better or worse, just contenting yourself with a smile on the face of the one who was your muse, your obsession, your sanity and your madness.

But Wanda soon realized that you alone wouldn't be enough to satisfy the needs pulsing inside her, like preludes to a coming calamity; in her eyes was the warning of the apocalypse.

Not in the way she wanted, because when the length of her fingers pressed against the pulsing muscles and arteries of your throat, on one particularly wild night when she, with the hollow of her bare alabaster thighs snugly fitted to the red toy strapped to your waist, riding you like an animal in heat, something in her came to the edge and she allowed herself to fall, increasing the pressure, depriving your brain of the oxygen necessary for your body's full functionality.

It was as if she wanted to squeeze the life out of you. To see what your reaction would be and what would hers be too.

Your vision darkened as she came in a sharp moan, perhaps more from the lust from the power she exerted over you than from sexual the act itself, tightening her grip on the sensitive skin of your larynx. And you couldn't breathe, but you didn't need oxygen; you needed her. She would fill your lungs with life. Though she let go in time for any permanent sequel to do you irreversible damage, five hideous bruises marked you as her property in purplish-red streaks, like a galaxy dotted across your epidermis.

But when the notion dawned on you, when you had to cover your wounds with a coat of makeup, your somewhat hurt reaction to the violence calmed her nerves. Although, if she really wanted to, you'd let her steal the oxygen from your chest.

In an orgasm achieved on the day that marked your second year of marriage, a couple of months later, you offered your wife the idea of conceiving a child together. It seemed natural for a couple who'd been together as long as the two of you to dream up the idea of starting a family that would exceed two people, after all.

“I bet you'd look so hot pregnant,” it was said in a groan punctuated by a panting breath, as she rode your strap moving her body over yours the way she always liked to do, “Can you imagine that, Wands? Me putting a baby inside you?”

And she sighed a, “Fuck, Y/n!”, moving even faster with her hips, reaching for you, going for a much-needed orgasm. When her fingers bit into your neck a second time, you didn't care at all.

It didn't take more than a few tries for the twins to come; Thomas, fifteen minutes older, followed by William accordingly. Two boys who could be nothing but the embodiment of your love for her; the gift you wanted her to bestow. And the firsts of childhood witnessed by the caress of a mother's gaze did lift Wanda's spirits; for a while life was simple, the two of you too busy to allow yourself to think about anything but bottles and pacifiers. But what was spreading through Wanda's senses, until then asleep, haunted her again like an ethereal creature scraping the inside of her skull.

You saw the earnest way in which she directed furtive glances at other people who were becoming commonplace figures in her everyday life; other women who lived as secondary characters in your lives, just innocent lambs beside the wolf in disguise. But you loved her. You preyed for her good, who was the love of your life, who had been the mother of your children formed in the graces of her womb, her flesh and blood. And then, there was consent.

At some point, you gave your blessing for her to do so, because you knew it would make her happy, make her complete in a way that even your family couldn't; because she licked her lips like a thirsty person looking for water to quench her thirst – Wanda suffered from an impulse, just a lapse, a little unrestrained slip, and you were there to hold her hand every time she fell into perversities of her own temptations. You were the tightrope that kept her balanced within her own mental faculties.

The first was Agatha, there was no way you could forget; she was the boys' elementary school teacher and had a wide smile accompanied by full brown hair that made her look like an evil witch in a children's cartoon. Wanda consumed her completely, and you watched every wretched action your wife performed toward the woman older than the two of you. And then came Sharon, a friendly blonde store clerk. Darcy, a college student, and Jennifer, an aspiring lawyer. They made Wanda happy, and so were you too.

Kate came over the weekend you made it from the big city to the Westview welcomes, when your father's birthday celebration was held, sixty years or more than that.

Your parents seemed elated with yours and Wanda's presence in the small town, because it also meant the company of their only grandchildren, whom they both cherished and the feeling was mutual between the boys (Tommy was interested in asking Alexei about his time served as a low-ranking soldier in the remote Soviet Union, and Billy would ask Melina to read to him books that contained in their pages words that his scant childhood cognition, however cunning, would not be able to pronounce without the help of an adult, and it so happens that he has always been very close to his grandmother).

Natasha, your older sister, was out for military service, but Yelena, the youngest of the family, was the one who came from college, and brought along with her the company of the tall Kate Bishop, the girlfriend who she said that one day would be her wife.

Kate was a nice girl, and you were happy for your sister, who was all touching and hugging with her partner.

Over the course of dinner she engaged in an avid conversation with your father about sport archery (which she had been practicing since even younger than your children, she reported when you, across the table, asked her about it and was promptly greeted with a warm response), and she incontinently repeated a dish of stroganoff prepared by your mother, who served her with gusto.

But you can't help but notice the way Wanda looked at her from behind her glass of red wine. Thinking, scheming, studying in her brain methods of making it happen, of twisting and breaking something she wanted to crush between her hands.

Something fell into you, and you were barely able to answer the question Billy asked you as your gaze traced from your wife to the girl oblivious to her situated across the table, to near your younger sister's left shoulder. How Wanda's mouth really seemed to water in the presence of a girl young enough to be her little sister, for a meat she'd like to taste.

When Tommy called out to her, though, she looked away from the dark-haired young woman to look at you, who were standing next to your son standing between the two of you. And then, she smiled reassuringly, her lips brushed with a thin layer of red wine that did nothing to diminish the doses of sweetness in her features; and you were delivered, because she was yours and you were hers. Even if, behind that genuine smile, there was an enormous strength, a will equipped with an animalistic voracity, like a secret voluptuousness between you and your wife.

All it took was her tongue between your legs for her to have you where she wanted.

When, in the next night, your parents went to spend quality time with the boys at a nearby ice cream shop and Yelena left to go to the store to buy the missing ingredients for a homemade cookie recipe, Wanda sprang into action and, like a fool in love, you followed after her, tailing the emotional collar which she had screwed around your neck along with the wedding band on your ring finger.

You were different, you weren't disposable. You were her favorite possession.

There was no denying it. There was no way to leave her. There was no way to stop it. Even when her hand caressed the cheek of a Kate so absorbed in a banal and commonplace act between sisters-in-law, even when Wanda lured her like a treacherous viper, just waiting for the fatal pounce on the helpless little mouse.

And, well, if Wanda was the snake, you allowed yourself to taste the red apple she offered you. Your primary sin was loving her. It was to be a devoted wife.

You, therefore, take a little more and throw the rest of your cigarette on the floor, crushing it with the sole of your shoe, ending the act when the sound fades, and there are only sharp gasps to be heard through the night.

And, after fumbling with your fingers for a handful of garbage bags placed near your right ankle like an old dog, you stick your left hand inside your front trouser pocket as you bring your hips away from the bodywork of the car, wrapped in a color of red like the skin of a ripe cherry, departing in conversational strides to the front of the vehicle, where a pair of glowing headlights are like the demonic eyes of a creature in the midst of darkness, engulfed in the hollow heart of the forest that surrounds the city boundary.

A stream of yellow light reflects off the sharp edge of a metal ax that drips onto a thick viscous material that is an amalgamation of brains and entrails, and it is Wanda who has the sturdy wooden handle pressed between the fingers of both hers hands, her wedding band bathed in a splash of still-warm blood. And, well, indeed your marriage is bloody like your wife's blouse and hair, who lets the scarlet-soaked tool fall to the floor with a hollow thud, as if she's eaten too much and is too full before digestion.

She digests the moment, the atmosphere. She digests you.

Wanda no longer deals any blows against the crumbs of that shapeless, gory and mirrored thing all over the floor that was once Kate's head, now open and with all its inner contents on display – a disgusting gray mass that soils her shoes and the hem of her pants.

Wanda is happy, exultant, vibrating with a belated contentment that she can barely contain from the shots of adrenaline coursing through her veins when caught in the violent act of inflicting pain on anyone other than her or yourself. And she doesn't look any less pretty, even when she's covered in blood spatter, dirt, hair and guts. And if she's happy, you're happy. Because you are a devoted wife.

“All done here, honey?” you call out to her, brandishing the garbage bags held up by your right hand.

“All done,” she smiles as she comes towards you, pupils dilated and dark, “Thank you for doing this for me, baby.”

“I’ll always do everything I can to make you happy Wanda, you know that.”

And her answer is a kiss with the metallic taste of blood that slides between your teeth.

And for a second you try to think about Kate, who made your kids laugh until they were ready to cry and who also pleased your parents, and how Yelena's crying would break your heart once she realized her girlfriend would never come back home again. But Wanda's discomfort would shatter your soul. If her addiction was to the dismemberment of living people, yours was to her happiness.

“Baby,” she murmurs against your lips, a puff of warm air entering the gap of your mouth, fresh blood pouring in a single drop toward your chin, “I love you, you know? You're the only person I need in my life, Y/n. Only you."

And her words make your heart rumble inside your chest in an exultant pulse of joy. Because you're just a devoted wife. Or maybe just a mind as sick as Wanda's.

“I love you too, pretty girl,” you smile, “I am devoted to you.”

[theelectronicstranger]

Ultimate Black Panther #1-3 Discussion

            If you have not read these issues, then please look away now. I’ve liked the series so far so I recommend you get these issues if you can. The only reason why this Discussion is late is because there was a massive shortage on the first issue, and I couldn’t get my hands on it until a few weeks ago.

            I found it really interesting that Okoye and T���Challa are together in this universe because when I first got into reading comics Ororo/Storm and T’Challa were together. I always realty did like that pairing and wanted it back after Avengers versus X-Men broke them up. I understand why they broke up, but I was still hoping they’d be back together someday. I do think that Okoye is an interesting choice for a queen, but you can tell that they have a political marriage. In the first issue, we see them sleep in separate beds and the way they talk to one another feels more like two respected colleagues rather than two people that ever loved one another:

It just feels like they’re being forced to stay with each other because the tradition/politics of Wakanda wanted them to be married. In issue 2, there’s a scene where T’Challa is talking to the Vodu-Khan, and they’re telling him about this “woman of light” that will apparently have a child with him. In that scene, we see T’Challa assume that this will be Okoye, but at the same time we’re also kind of hinting that its going to be Ororo/Storm:

I’m really looking forward to seeing how Okoye and T’Challa’s marriage and relationship play out in this series because it feels like right now, with T’Challa being with Ororo currently, it could be such a big mess. I’m also looking forward to learning more about Okoye in this series because I feel like we don’t really know much about her besides her relationship/marriage to T’Challa.

            Speaking of Ororo/Storm, we have seen a bit of her in this book so far. I like how in the first issue we just saw silhouette of her in lightning:

This is the reason why I think she’s the woman of light that the Vodu-Khan was talking to T’Challa about because they literally silhouetted her in light during her first appearance. It could be a red herring; but also, I don’t really think so because in the second issue when T’Challa meets her, he literally is in awe of her and even recognizes that she is a woman of light:

I think there’s a lot of people, like me, that really wanted these two back together in the main universe and I think that’s exactly what Bryan Hill is going to give us in this series. I also really like how in the pages above, we kind of see T’Challa be faced with his destiny or the destiny that was foretold to him. I’m kind of a sucker for those stories of destined lovers and I would love to see their romance play out more in this series if this is where they’re actually going to head with this story. I also want to know more about Ororo’s character and who she is. Currently, we only really know that she’s in a partnership with Killmonger to help people in need. She also seems to trust Killmonger a lot so maybe they’re in a relationship or maybe they’re siblings? If they’re in a relationship and the prophecy is true then T’Challa and Killmonger are definitely going to butt heads because of that. If the book told us what their relationship is, then I for sure missed it.

Anyways, I want to talk more about her design. I really like her design in this comic. I can now see where Maystorm/May Igarashi from the Ultimate X-Men title gets her design inspiration from. However, this also gave me a lot of questions about her as a character. If somebody like May from Japan knows about Ororo, then is she famous? If so, then what for? Is she a famous mutant in this universe? Is she part of the X-Men in this universe? Because it seems that nobody knows about her when she shows up in these books. Does the X-Men even exist in this universe? Because the Ultimate X-Men book hasn’t answered that either.  I’m really hoping we get to know more about her soon.

EDIT/SPOILERS for Ultimate X-Men #4: I have been procrastinating on writing/posting this since last week and this week’s Ultimate X-Men #4 actually reveals that this Ororo is just a freedom fighter. She’s not associated with the X-Men in any way or at least not that we know of yet. Also, the X-Men as a group doesn’t seem to exist in this universe yet.

Ultimate X-Men #4 Storm:

            Next, I’m going to talk about the Vodu-Khan. They are set up as elder religious types in this title. They seem to be connected supernaturally to Bast and tries to guide the King of Wakanda. T’Challa actually doesn’t seem to like them nor trusts them in the first issue. However, after T’Chaka dies, we see that he starts trusting them more and more. However, I’m not really sure whether he actually trusts them, or if he just took his father’s advice in issue 1:

I’m focusing on this group because I feel like they might be the traitors of Wakanda. Maybe I’m also just thinking that because T’Challa already didn’t trust them in issue 1, but I feel like they have an ulterior motive. Also, I felt like they had the most to gain when T’Chaka died because after he died, T’Challa started trusting them more and going to them more it seems. I don ‘t really have any other proof of their treason yet, so all of this is conjecture for now. I’d love to know what you guys think though. I have heard that some people think that the traitor is Okoye because of her and T’Challa’s political marriage, but I’m not sure about that either.

            I want to talk about this T’Challa for a bit. In the beginning of the series, he says “Traditions must change.” when talking to Okoye after his dream, but we haven’t really seen him change anything yet. I feel like his father’s death has only made him embrace the traditions of Wakanda more, hence why I wasn’t sure if he actually trusted the Vodu-Khan or not. I definitely feel like watching his father die made him more vulnerable and more accepting of the traditions of Wakanda because he’s grieving and need to rely on those traditions right now. After his father’s death, he also became a bit more paranoid to the point that Wakanda’s people are being arrested because T’Challa doesn’t know how many more spies are in his kingdom:

He’s very paranoid right now, which is understandable, but it also is putting so much strain on the faith that his people might have in him and in Wakanda as a whole.  Also, we’re shown that this T’Challa doesn’t really know much about the world outside of Wakanda:

I could be reading into this wrong, but it feels like he’s been trapped inside Wakanda for a long time and that he needs to see for himself what the outside world truly is. He has a sense of the nations and countries outside of Wakanda, but he’s never truly experienced it for himself. I’m really excited to see him find out more about the world around him/the world outside of Wakanda and see how that affects his rule as king. Like how would he react to finding out that this world was tampered with by the Maker? He seems like he’s going to be part of the Ultimates at some point, so I’m excited to see how he changes. I also really like how much different this T’Challa is to the main universe counterpart. I feel like the main universe is sure of himself and more confident in his skills as a leader. However, this new Ultimate version of Black Panther feels like he has a lot to prove to himself and to his people. I’m excited to see him grow as a character and see him develop into a better king.

            In this title, Khonshu and Ra seems to be trying to take over Wakanda or the whole of Africa for their Vibranium. I think ever since the Maker disappeared most of the illuminati of this universe are trying to take more power and to rule more land, so I think that’s why they send those spies to Wakanda that ended up killing T’Chaka in issue 1:

I also think that they might want to take whatever that little green planet-like structure was that we say at the end of issue 3:

I have no clue what this planet-like thing is, but my theory is that it’s the remnants or shadow of this old universe before the Maker changed everything. However, I have no proof of any of that. It’s just a crazy theory. I’m very excited to find out where this story leads. Also, one last thing about Khonshu and Ra. At the end of issue 1, T’Challa says that they call themselves Moon Knight and I kind of find it interesting that in this universe Moon Knight is more of an organization that Khonshu and Ra has formed rather than an actual character. I wonder if Khonshu and Ra in this universe are actually gods or if they’re just wealthy/powerful people of influence in this universe.

            Lastly, I want to talk about Killmonger. We first see Killmonger with Ororo in the first issue helping out the people of West Africa fend off against Khonshu and Ra’s army. He seems to be a freedom fighter that wants to help out people wherever he can. I don’t think this Killmonger will serve as a villain but more so as a guide to open T’Challa’s eyes to the horrors that exist outside the walls of Wakanda. I also really like what he says in Issue 3, where he talks about how he got tired of sitting in paradise and watching people suffer:

I feel like by the end of this arc that T’Challa is probably going to feel similarly to Killmonger. His eyes will be open to all the cruelties this world has to offer and he’ll want to help the people not just his people in Wakanda but people who are suffering around the world. I think Wakanda will end up being known to the world rather than a secret.

            Thank you for reading this post! Tell me what you think of Ultimate Black Panther so far. I’ve been enjoying this title so far, but I would love it if they started telling us what’s going on sooner though. I just have so many questions right now (specifically, after issue 3) and I just want some of those to be answered right now. Also, sorry if this post was a bit hectic. There was a lot that I wanted to talk about, so I hope I talked about it well. Speaking of, I totally forgot to compliment Stefano Caselli's art. I think he did a fantastic job in this book. That should be all I wanted to talk about. i never want to do a 3 issue discussion again. Have a great day! Thanks for reading this!

[mianmimi]

*british urchin voice* do you have any more 838 Strordo omegaverse headcanons? 👉👈🥺 I'm trying to get the creative juices flowing. You know what they say, if ain't nobody writing it, then write it yourself! Though the strordo fandom has written incredible omegaverse before, so I don't think that saying applies lol

Heya sweet Nonny! 😉

My apologies. There’s a good chunk of Omegaverse asks and headcanons in my inbox that I can’t wait to get to. Just been a little busier than usual cause a water tank burst above my apartment so I fell behind on the asks 😭

Omegaverse is my ❤️ And earth 838 lends itself so well to that *swoon* Personally I really enjoy the idea of Stephen and Mordo having this ‘will they or won’t they’ dynamic that blossoms. Like will they actually pair up? Or will Stephen find another omega? Or more likely, will Mordo be pressured into marrying an alpha equal to his rank as baron? I just see them trying to connect with other people but it’s simply not working.

One headcanon that I’ve been really liking is the concept of the Vishanti selecting the mate/s of the Sorcerer Supreme. Like it’s this huge deal, ceremony and everything. Sometimes the verdict is….stay single. And other times it’s stay single but have kids with this person. And then there’s the yes, this is your soulmate, enjoy your happy lives together. I just think it’ll be a suspenseful ceremony, and probably one full of dread too. Like what if you were already with someone else? What if the person they picked for the supreme objects?

So given that concept….I’ll headcanon that leading up to his ceremony, Stephen heavily considered leaving the title for the sake of being with Mordo instead of rejecting the decision of the Vishanti. Like he was going to leave before he got the chance to defy them in front of everybody. However….Mordo stops him and tells him to pursue the will of the Vishanti. He doesn’t want Stephen to lose the title he worked so hard for. And he points out that every match the Vishanti made have historically resulted in happy partnerships/marriages, even the ones that started out apprehensive at first. So he knows that Stephen will eventually be very happy with whoever the Vishanti select for him. He tells Stephen that he will leave if that makes the decision easier for him. And he does. Mordo goes away a few days before the ceremony and Stephen’s extremely close to giving up the title and perusing his love.

Then the day comes and Stephen’s there at the ceremony with a full blown audience and eager people hoping they get picked. Stephen’s heart clearly isn’t in it though, and he keeps looking at the crowd and hoping to see Mordo. Finally he can’t take it anymore and takes a step away from the ritual, about to run off when the Vishanti make their choice. A portal opens on its own and moves back to reveal a very surprised Mordo. Stephen sees him and his heart bursts with understanding.

Just one of many headcanons 🥰 I love how headcanons can be literally anything and everything. And it’s the multiverse! They all exist somewhere, no matter how far out they are ♥️

[conservativetradlife]

Hi! I’m a feminist who would like to dedicate her life to intellectual/spiritual/humanitarian pursuits (think St. Hildegarde, haha) as opposed to a domestic calling, but enjoy your content nonetheless. I hate the amount of people (many of whom are men) who use the “trad” label and quote Ephesians ... all while posting internet porn, or say disgusting things like “women’s holes are for *insert disgusting porn-addled comment here*”

I had written out a long response to this a few days ago, but pressed a bookmark when I was pulling up a tab and lost everything I had written. I was frustrated and decided to take care of this ask at a later point, and today feels like an appropriate day to do so, due to what I am seeing on my Dashboard today. Some of my points will be controversial. I get that, but please be respectful in answering, arguing or messaging me about my points.

Firstly, I want to encourage your choice of lifestyle and life goals. If your general pursuits for life, if its something you are truly passionate about (not simply attempting to personify a Saint while forgetting your own interests and desires outside of your perceptions of St Hildegarde) then all the more power to you. I think its a noble pursuit and the world is better off with more focus being directed towards Spiritual and Humanitarian activities. I will keep you in my prayers :)

I like to believe that my content is less centered around the ideals of domesticity and more towards intentional living. I started this blog wanting to idealize the Homemakers of the 50′s, and I have slowly began to realize what Traditionalism means to me and what kind of content I wish to put out into the world. I am idealizing my own life and hoping that those who share a similar vision for their futures (even if its without children or marriage) find comfort in my content.

Now, when it comes to the sexualization of the Traditional lifestyle (or at least, what some people believe to be traditionalism) I want to say very briefly that I understand what ‘kink’ is to people, but I also know what BDSM is supposed to be and the general servitude of women to their ‘Dominant’ halves is the only thing that rings even slightly familiar with what BDSM actually is and stands for.

To me, the sexualization of the Trad Women (someone who wishes to take up the classic ‘cultural norm’ of being the homemaker and Mother. Someone who relies on their husband as the prime breadwinner and finds self worth in their role in the home as Mother, Wife and Homemaker) is a sad example of where we as a culture have degenerated to. To know that men are craving a woman who WANTS to be wife and mother, who WANTS to be a stay at home woman and feels fulfilled by these pursuits, rather than what modern media has exposed as desirable. Women who are in media, exposing themselves, using their sexuality as their confidence and their general demeanor being viewed as crass and unattractive, in comparison to the modestly dressed religious wife, who stays home and bakes cookies and is waiting at the door when they get home.

When in history have we, as a society been so over-sexed? 

When has pornographic content and sexually motivated news been so easily accessible? It is literally at our fingertips (via our cellphones, or simply looking at our various socials.) Its no wonder that someone would find sexual pleasure in the counterculture of someone who is the visual polar opposite of what they are blasted with daily. Someone who keeps their sexuality exclusive, who is honorably modest to themselves and to God, but most importantly, keeps what is meant to be sacred between a husband and wife (or between partners) private and sacred. It says a lot about our culture when that becomes the case.

Unfortunately, I find the vast majority of people who sexualize the lifestyle of a Traditional Women, are suffering from what my husband calls ‘Porn Brain.’

We feel as though we have to justify the fact we are attracted to modesty and Traditionalism, by throwing in scenarios that can be sexualized. One cannot simply enjoy what is, without having cherries on top (i.e attaching the sexual aspect to child rearing, preparing dinner, caring for ones husband.)

CARE to some people is defined in specific ways instead of a broad manner. I want to believe that some of the women in this sub-culture realize that to have a family, one needs to engage sexually with their husband if they wish to naturally conceive their children. Without medical intervention, or specific methods of delivery (to be crass, haha 😛) having sex with your partner (one who has testicles, sperm and a penis - to be 100% clear) to their partners ejaculation into their partners vagina (one who has a vagina,  menstrual and ovulation cycle, uterus, fallopian tubes and egg laden ovaries) is the method with which one can conceive children. I don’t think that needs to be explained in the grand scheme, however, I feel as though a lot of Traditional women forget that this (if they wish to be mothers to children they have carried in their wombs, and birthed into the world) is a natural, important part of the process to becoming a Mother. 

I can already hear the masses arguing that you don’t need to have sex to have children. That some people can’t have children (either by their own choice, or because of trauma or physical incapability) and they choose to adopt children, or go through IVF which doesn’t involve sex. Yes, thankyou. I don’t need to be reminded of this fact. What I am trying to express is that Sex is a natural part of a marriage (and there is nothing wrong with that, neither is not having sex for one reason or another. Every marriage is unique and the business of those who are married, not the scrutiny of those around them.) I want to believe that if someone is going to marry their partner, they are comfortable enough to have sex with them. If a pair want to have children the ‘natural’ way, then I assume they go into the marriage understanding that to do so, they need to have sex. 

HOWEVER!! SEX IS NOT THE RELATIONSHIP. Sex is not (and should not) be the focus of a marriage between two people.

 When people fetishize Traditionalism, I find that sex is the main factor that comes with it. They have some of the points that come with what encompasses Traditionalism to some people, but their focus isn’t on what makes a marriage work for both, rather simply looking at the sexual aspect, which is one point of what is part of marriage. It isn’t about the whole, but rather about the woman giving her body over to her husband for sex. It isn’t about the conceiving of children, but rather about mindless self indulgence. To preach religion while one does this, is bastardizing what the unions (both sex and marriage) are meant for.

Linking BDSM terminology with the fetishization, by boiling down the gender roles that come with Traditionalism (the woman is submissive to her husband in trusting that he can care for - financially, emotionally etc) into simply ‘Domination and Submission’ isn’t Traditional. There are equal parts expectation in the Traditional lifestyle, but also in the D/s relationship. The Dominant figurehead of a relationship (in both dynamics) is not simply the one who receives pleasure, while the submissive rolls over to their every whim. To simply view the submissive (usually female) in this role, is grossly oversimplifying a complex relationship between both roles. Just with how a Wife partakes in her role, the submissive does so as well. The Dominant doesn’t just DO what they want without thought of what the submissive wants, just as the husband doesn’t just DO what he wants without thinking of his wife, and that’s where I find problems with how Trads view BDSM, and how fetishists view Traditionalism. Equality is important for both roles, both partners have a say, BOTH partners can consent or decline things they don’t want, sexually or otherwise. If that equality doesn’t exist in either dynamic, then it isn’t a good marriage, nor a good D/s dynamic.

At the end of the day, sex is meant to be between two consenting partners. I believe that sex exists for a purpose and we as a society have been so exposed to it that looking back on relationships when it was sacred and still HAD purpose is incredibly alluring. In the hookup culture world we live in, sex is a commodity, and birth control exists so that the purpose of sex is forgotten. Men who fetishize Traditional Women aren’t looking at Traditionalism as a whole and what it means to be traditional. Its simply over sexed porn brain telling them that ‘once I have a wife, we’ll have sex all the time and she’ll take care of me. She’ll be sexy only for me and want sex with only me, while taking on the homemaker roles.’ 

These people aren’t looking for an equal partner. They are looking for a mother that they can have sex with. Someone that will take care of them, selflessly because they actively WANT to do so, with zero understanding that they themselves have things they want and need to make this an equal partnership.

I’m not going to get into the generalities of BDSM couples (nor how some traditionalists have a BDSM relationship ongoing beside their roles as husband and wife.) I will say that people who are in these relationships, aren’t in it simply for their own pleasure. There is nothing wrong with unconventional (kinky) sex between two consenting adults. What goes on in the bedroom of two people isn’t anyone’s business. Whether you like vanilla sex or whips and chains, its not anyone’s business but the people who are having sex. BDSM is not what’s wrong with these fetishists. Selfishness is what is wrong with these people, who think that having a traditional woman means their sexual needs will be met along with their household and human needs, while they themselves can do nothing.

Now, before I get jumped with another possible argument, about preference, let me quickly say that there is nothing wrong with having preferences in a partner. Some people like maternal women, women who love God, women who prefer to dress modestly, women who are Traditional. However, there is more to a woman that simply being Traditional. My husband loves me for more than just my goals of being a mother and homemaker. He also loves that I can sing, that I do funny dances when I eat good food. That I read books before bed or all varieties and have a dark sense of humor. He’s under no illusion that I am a perfect Trad all the time. Sometimes I want to watch True Crime documentaries instead of doing the dishes and he’ll bring home a frozen pizza for dinner. 

Some people might be wholly dedicated to being Traditional and that can be appealing to people, there isn’t nothing wrong with dedicating your life to something you are passionate about, be that, as you (for example) said, intellectual/spiritual/humanitarian pursuits or otherwise. To do so can be a preference they have, but if that is ALL one thinks encompasses a person or partner and they can’t have interests or things they do otherwise, you find a problem. I am more than just a Tradwife and Mother. So are others.

This has turned into a very long winded explanation to a simple question, and I apologize for going heavily into depth about this. Simply put (or TL;DR) fetishizing Traditionalism isn’t right. There is a purpose for sex and forgetting that is only showing what is wrong with our modern ‘porn brain’ addled society. Linking BDSM to fetishists isn’t right either, because there is a difference between a D/s dynamic and someone who is looking for a doormat. 

Preferring a partner who is Trad and nothing else diminishes a person into basic traits that dehumanizes them into an object that serves ones own selfish needs (”my partner will keep house, have sex with me and be happy because they want to. They’re supposed to be Trad. I’m the man of the house and they cater only to me.”) Woman are more than Trad and more than a sex object. People who forget that aren’t worth the time or energy to engage with and should be blocked on principle so not to circulate false truths about BDSM or Traditionalism. It gives a bad name to both of these kinds of lifestyles.

Thankyou for being patient with me in answering this, if you want to discuss this in depth, my messages are open and I’m more than happy to explain further if there are any questions or counter-arguments to any of the above. 

God Bless and I’ll Keep You in My Prayers 💕

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Uncoupling

I love comparing and contrasting the Three Dads in TDP: Viren, Harrow, and Runaan. On top of these being the parents of the main characters in the show, influencing their earliest habits and beliefs, anything that has more than two sides is super interesting to me, thematically and creatively. So here’s a fun thing I realized last week. And by fun, I mean angsty and sad.

Viren, Harrow, and Runaan--presumably in that order--make complicated choices that separate them from their spouses on essentially a permanent basis. That separation is always physical, but not always emotional. But each decision can be simplified down to one basic theme:

They let someone into their lives, trusted them for all that they could bring to their marriage, and then, one day, they stopped listening to them.

In each case, the men thought they were choosing something hard but correct. But in each case, they were wrong. 

Viren and his wife divorced, and she left the kingdom and her children behind in order to find happiness again. We don’t know the whole story there yet, but we do know Viren pretty well. He’s a genius who puts his feelings toward saving as much of his world as he can, and he doesn’t always make the right call on how to do that. In fact, he’s been making a series of really bad calls for a while now, and he’s been losing the things he’s trying to protect along the way. 

That started with his wife. His strongest supporter and his partner. Without her, he threw himself into dark magic even further, for the sake of Harrow and the kingdom, because that’s what he had left to protect. But without her guidance, he came up with plans that involved wild notions like invading Xadia and killing a snoozing Magma Titan who was just trying to live his life, and risking notice by Avizandum.

Harrow followed that plan because he didn’t listen to Sarai. She literally fought with him over it, and she couldn’t convince him to let it go (that’s gonna sound familiar in a second). Harrow only saw the Narrative of Strength and took the easy route of believing Viren when he said this was the only way. Sarai, unlike Viren’s wife, stuck with her man, because these specific circumstances lent themselves to her skills: she’s a warrior queen. So she went out to support her husband, lend her hand to the task, and help her people. And she died for it, and Harrow lost her anyway. Permanently.

Runaan insisted on allowing Rayla on his assassin mission despite her youth, even though Ethari tried his best to convince him that she wasn’t the right sort of person for that job. Just like Sarai, Ethari fought with Runaan--though probably not literally--but he couldn’t convince him to let it go, either. Just like Harrow, Runaan couldn’t see past what he thought needed to happen to give balance back to his world: I take my loved one and kill someone with her on the other side, and then everything will be fine. And though Ethari didn’t accompany him like Sarai did Harrow, he did make Rayla her own swords and let her go on the mission.

And then Rayla did fail Runaan, and he was captured and presumed dead, and Ethari’s heart broke. They’re currently separated, and we have no idea if they’ll make it back together again, and what it’ll be like if they do. Runaan’s hard heart might have irreparably damaged their relationship, especially if he’s not sorry.

I’m saying there’s an established pattern that ends in spousal loss every time. Even if Runaan is freed, he may retreat even further into the Narrative of Strength, like Viren and Harrow, and Ethari won’t be able to reach him there.

But listen. Listen. This story isn’t over. Sarai has died. But Viren’s wife is actually still alive, and so is Ethari. That’s two out of three. So maybe, maybe, that’s an avenue for redemption for two of these dads. For the two who are still alive. 

Ethari definitely still loves Runaan, and he’s been trying to save him since the moment they met. That may just take a different form than either of them expected. Physical saving, yes, yay, but Runaan needs his soul saved here. He needs to choose the other narrative. And so does Viren. And the people they let closest to them are the ones who have the best chance at helping them do that. To understand that it’s actually necessary.

I’m saying I want Viren’s wife to come back and kick his ass into a redemption arc. Y’all know I already want that for Runaan, and Ethari can absolutely kick Runaan’s ass there. Boot these guys, shake them up, help them remember that they can change their narrative. That their destinies are books they write themselves.

Harrow died because he didn’t listen to Sarai, his trusted partner and beloved ally in life. He turned his back on her advice, and he kept his back turned for nine years. And it got him killed, too.

But Viren’s still kicking, and so is Runaan. Aaravos isn’t going to have Viren’s best interests at heart, but Viren’s ex still might, for the sake of what they had, or for their kids. Ethari definitely still wants what’s best for Runaan. Viren’s ex might not be willing to pay enough. Ethari will probably want to pay whatever it takes. There are some issues there. But like Ezran said, there is hope.

All three dads were wrong because they were each following the Narrative of Strength instead of the Narrative of Love. You can have the purest motives in the world--and they all did--but the actions you take choose your narrative. 

The two spouses we’ve seen definitely live in the Narrative of Love, so Viren’s ex probably does, too. All of these pairings are Strength/Love. And Strength is winning, at the cost of its Love. Strength is winning because it thinks that’s how it should go. Someone needs to win. But Love doesn’t want a winner. Love wants a partnership, a balance, peace and understanding.

In this story, in these three marriages, the Narrative of Strength is tearing couples apart. And from those breaks come so much of the tragedy we’ve seen. It hurts the Love partner, it hurts the Strength wielder, it hurts their families, and it hurts their world.

So I’m looking at Rayla and Callum and begging them to both stay in the Narrative of Love. Especially Rayla. Please don’t harden up, or Callum will get hurt, because he’s the Soft One. Don’t follow Runaan down that road, follow Ethari. Don’t make the mistakes of your parents’ generation, don’t turn your back on the one person you let closest into your heart. Listen to him. You chose Callum for a reason. Trust him to be right about the things he’s good with. 

Love’s power comes from trust and connection. On the journey. Strength only cares about results. We gotta put in the time to get things right. Snap decisions are bad, and doubling down on them because it’s easy is worse.

All these dads broke the loving trust they had because they were too hard. That’s just one more thing Rayllum needs to work hard to do differently than their parents did. Or they’ll just end up repeating the cycle of pain, loss, and bad decisions.

[byuncock]

Untitled

requested: no

word count: 2,599

edited: naw

—

our relationship is fine. as fine as an arranged couple's marriage should be.

i am currently sitting on the couch mindlessly staring at the television screen. looking at the clock from time to time it was already 10pm and baekhyun was still at work.

sighing at the thought of the food i cooked on the table going cold. i sat there for awhile now. even stopped checking the time since i know he'll be coming home past 12am as usual.

it was 2:14am when i heard the front door's knob jiggled and in came baekhyun. he looked tired. he been looking tired for the past few weeks, i noticed but every time i try to ask all of his answers are "nothing important".

staying silent as i watched him take off his shoes and come in through the living room to go towards the bedroom. not noticing me until he saw the television screen and trailed his eyes to me.

"hey baby, what are you doing up?" he questions tiredly though doing his best to give you a smile.

"couldn't sleep" i replied to him as i watch his face give i a pout as he retreats to the bedroom.

"i'd stay up with you, but work is tiring me out. good night" he yawns.

i hear him taking a shower before getting ready for bed. i stay on the couch though. still not being able to find the sleep ineed despite how tired and drained i've been feeling.

feeling how distant we both have gone. barely any time for each other. whenever we sleep together there is a gap. no longer feeling the warmth i crave.

and worst of it all. he hasnt told me i love you since our last anniversary dinner. which was a month or so ago. this has been going on for a month and i am fed up.

doesnt seem long but when you experience it, it feels like a year.

i dont know how long it had been until i heard noises in the room and out came baekhyun. in his usual work attire.

baekhyun sees me still on the couch and questions, "why didnt you come to bed last night?" why didnt you ask me earlier?

"can't sleep" i vaguely reply. looking over at the clock it was 5am.

he nods in reply and put on his shoes. leaving for work. no good bye kiss. no i love you. not even a single affection of some sorts. thats when i had enough.

planning to visit his work later after i freshen up and ready myself for whatever storm i have to face when talking to him about this.

getting up from the couch i went over to the bedroom and took my time to freshen up.

after putting some food in my system for the day ahead i headed out. the drive to his office was nerve wrecking for some reason.

arriving at the building i walked in. passing by the receptionist you gave her a smile. she instantly stood up and bowed giving you a grin.

walking through the offices there were a bunch of workers around about, not forgetting to greet you though. when you made it to baekhyun's office floor things seems to be eerily quiet.

too quiet and it was almost scary. his door was down the hall. his door was slightly ajar. not knowing if he was in his office or not you take a peek.

he was indeed in his office, but he wasn't alone. he is sitting on top at the front of his desk. arms crossed with his eyebrows furrowed while talking to someone.

i was going to leave and just wait for him to finish conversing with whoever he is with until the person made it's appearance.

she was dangerously close to him to be talking to him about some offer of a deal. she got even closer by caging him in his arms by putting her arms on both sides of him on his desk. their faces inches apart from where their lips can touch.

i was shocked, hurt, angry, every emotion you can get. not knowing what to do or if i should barge in, but my grabbed my phone out of my purse and quickly dialed a number.

before things could get worse between the pair in the room a ringtone broke the tension. though the phone kept ringing the both of them made no signs to move.

baekhyun turned his head to look at the caller id that was calling him. he was staring intently at his phone but not reaching out to pick it up.

i watched him stare at his phone, praying for him to pick up. even when the ring stopped he didnt move a muscle.

the woman grabbed his chin and turned his face over to meet her face again. a sly smirk made its way across her lips. everything turned silent after i hung up the call. not believing he stood your call, but is it shocking since he's been ignoring my calls for a while now?

"so" the lady sultry says, "everything could be over if you accept my offer" she purrs.

confusion flashed across my face. what could be over? what offer? i was confused, so mad, and so hurt i really wanted to burst in and stop them.

i was going to burst in until he leaned in. not wanting to witness what happens after she leans in i left.

walked through the building with tears streaming down my face. not caring if the workers saw.

finally, even though it felt like years, i made it out the building. going over to my car and got in. quickly driving home, away from the building, away from him.

when i made it home i just threw my body on the bed. everything hurts. my heart was literally broken. i am sobbing into my pillow.

thinking about how the past few nights i slept without his embrace. went on with day for the month without his love or affection. and now i knew why.

turning over on the bed to stare up at the ceiling i rose my left hand. staring at the promise ring he gave me a few months ago during our anniversary. now everything just seem like a joke.

i would of spent even more hours wailing then getting ready to leave him until i heard the front door slam. quick steps were approaching and there he was.

"baby" he says breathlessly. as if he ran all the way over here from his workplace. i stared at him for a moment before turning my attention back to the ceiling. the tears threatening to fall again.

i sniffed and thats when i felt the right side of the bed dip. his face coming to view.

"why didnt you tell me you were coming to visit me at work?" he questions softly, staring at you.

"even if i called, you didnt answer" i whisper then stared at him. letting him see how broken you are. how broken he made you.

he was lost for words. so what his coworkers were telling him were right. you were there. then you left. with tears.

"baby, i can explain. what you saw at my work was not wh-" he tries to explain to me, but i cut him off.

"please leave, baekhyun. i don't want to see you right now" i try to stay as calmly as possible. though i was anything but calm.

"baby please let me explain-" he desperately tries again, but i sat up. almost bumping our heads, making him move back slightly. i reached for my left ring finger and as quickly as i can, take it off then threw it outside our bedroom door

i was heaving. now tears have fell and baekhyun looked over at the door where the sound of a ring dropping is made. he looked at my face. with a painful, regretful, and saddened expression.

i didnt dare look at him though as i stare straight ahead waiting for him to leave. when i heard him get up to grab the ring i ran over to our bedroom door and closed it. locking it too.

knocks and yells were made on the other side of the door. i can hear him calling for me, crying in the process of trying to let him in, but i dont.

i cover my ears trying to block his cries as i cried. falling asleep in that position with him as the last thing on my mind.

the sound of the alarm woke me up. i went over to it and slammed the snooze button. checking the time it was 10am. Baekhyun should be out at work now. I thought as i got up.

i opened the door heading out of the bedroom until i stumbled across a body by the door. i was on the floor from tripping over baekhyun. he seem to be stirring awake from my clumsiness and we made eye contact.

i quickly got up on my feet to go back in the room and close the door, but baekhyun quickly grabbed me and wrapped his arms around my body.

i was thrashing in his arms. trying to get him to let go of me since i dont want to be anywhere near him. nonetheless touch by an unfaithful partner.

"let me explain, please" he sounded so broken. his voice was hoarse, probably from crying. but it just made you even angrier.

he held me tighter as long as it takes for me to calm down. when a minutes have passed and i have finally gave up in trying to escape, i let him hug me.

baekhyun takes this chance to explain what happened. clearing his throat, "i dont know when you came in yesterday and what you saw, but i assure you nothing happened" he says carefully.

i was lifeless. basically, he was holding my entire form together before i completely break apart.

sensing my silence he held me a bit tighter burying his head in my hair as he gently pressed kisses around. continuing, "that lady... she is one of my new partners in work. we hired her a few weeks before this whole thing started".

"she tried seducing me, tried countless of ways to get closer to me, but being the smart and loyal man i am i never gave in and i even called her out on it" he pulls away from you to cup your face.

"but that pissed her off.. she- she started messing with my paper works, my deals and partnership, i couldn't do anything, baby." his voice broke as he tried explaining for you to understand.

"i didnt know what to do. i told her i would fire her if she kept this up, but because she is the daughter of one of my most loyal partner...... she told me she would ruin me by telling lies with proof of fake documents i dont even know where she is getting it from" he is sobbing now. though a ton of bricks have finally lifted off his chest he was still scared.

i was still silent. taking in everything he had said, but one question is lingering in my mind that i hope is false.

"you said you never gave in to her foul play, right?" your voice so small baekhyun had to stop breathing just to hear. "then how come i saw the both of you kiss" you looked up at him, tears forming in your eyes at the memory.

"no no baby, she leaned in, but i assure you our lips did not touch. i pushed her away right when she leaned in. i knew she was going to do that, but i was waiting for her to do it so that if she does yell for help i can say that she was trying something on me without my consent." he explains, a bit too quickly for my brain, but i understand. i nod to him, my eyes casting downwards.

"even after all these explanations, i dont understand why you havent been giving me the love and affection i've been yearning for" i sniffed. heart hurting from all the pain. i look down tears wetting his suit.

"i'm so sorry, baby. for that reason... i just... i just couldnt bring myself to touch you, make love to you, or even say the three words because of how dirty things feel. i know i told you i did nothing with her, but i still felt dirty. im so sorry, baby" he is crying. trying his best to speak as he wraps his arms around you again. holding you tight.

understanding now you oat his back to calm him down. though the pain in your heart ceased a bit, it was still there.

"im- im so so- sorry, baby. for a- all the th- things i've put you through" he was hiccuping. the thought of how lonely and sad you mustve felt because of his cold actions towards you.

"let me make it up to you , baby. please i promise to be better . i promise to treat you better not do that ever again. " he says brokenly. cupping your face again as he pecks all over your face, but your lips.

"please, let me make it up for you, please" he desperately says while searching for your eyes.

you think for a moment. about everything he says. all the drama that happened and see how much shit he's been going through. although he should of told you about it he made it worse for himself.

baekhyun took your silence as a bad sign when he leaned his forehead onto yours. closing his eyes as he whispered, "baby, please forgive your shit of a boyfriend and let him treat you right. please" he opens his eyes at the last word to stare at your brown orbs.

"this is your only chance" you say before he swoops in and kisses you on the lips. the both of us meet each other head on. my arms finally wrapping around him to pull him closer as his arms trailed everywhere around you.

he picked me up and carry me over to the bed and laid me down. that night we spent reuniting with one another.

-

next morning came and the alarm rang for 10am. you woke up startled, but just laid there trying to back to sleep. you hear rustling on the other side of the bed as baekhyun turned off the alarm and wrapped his arm around your waist again.

confused by his action you turned over, "not going to work?" you questioned. while staring at his cute face. he shakes his head.

"i'll take care of whatever i need to take care of at home......... and that means firing that woman" he says before he made himself comfortable by snuggling closer to you.

i was a bit worried because of what baekhyun said she can do to him if he fires her, "but what about the lies she will do?"

"i'll face whatever bump it takes me and because i know and you know that i am innocent, that is enough" he smiles though his eyes are still closed.

not wanting to disturb him any further i fully turn to him and get closer to him. wrapping my arm around his torso. giving him a quick peck on his lips before closing my eyes to drift off again.

—

authornote: hello xD! i just wrote this for the past few hours after remembering a oneshot i read on tumblr similar to this that is no longer posted. so i figured to just write something similar to keep myself from going crazy by not being able to read it again aha. sry for the mistakes you see, but i hope you enjoy reading!

- admin b

[justlikeeddie]

otp meme

List your Top 5 Canon and Top 5 Non-Canon OTPs. Then, tag 10 people to spread the love, and so on and so on…

I was tagged by @rcmclachlan! It’s fun to excavate your fandom history!

This is a GOOD QUESTION in that, y’know. What is a canon OTP? (What is a pairing? What is canon? What is ‘is’?) The answer, for this post, is “whatever made it easiest for me to split these into two sets of five”.

CANON OTPs

Aziraphale/Crowley, Good Omens

This is canon. “Fight me”? No need. Fight Michael Sheen.

Do say: “And when I’m off in the stars, I won’t even think about you!”

Don’t say: Hey, have you thought recently about the fact that Crowley’s snakeskin shoes might actually just be his feet?

Look at an art: A little ancient Grecian collusion by @seraph5

Read a fic: nothing but the wild rain by @singlecrow

Have I written it? In a desperate exercise in exorcism immediately after watching the show, yes: Going Native and Riding in Cars With Demons. And I have about five WIPs in charliekellypepesilvia.jpg frantically plotted notes stages. Watch this space. (For some time. I’m a bizarrely slow writer.)

Flint/Thomas, Black Sails

Do say: “People can say what they like about you, but you're a good man. More people should say that. And someone should be willing to defend it."

Don’t say: I was enjoying the show so much that I ignored the fact they made captain flint gay but to wrap up the series on the notion he would put his sword down to pick daisies with his male lover is just too much to bear. I miss the 90’s

Look at an art: Journey into the Dark by @riisinaakka-draws

Read a fic: Unaccommodated Man by @septembriseur

Have I written it? Yes, although astonishingly, I only ever finished one fic: Some Affair.

Strange/Arabella, Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell

Do say: “The excitement of it was very much to see how you would look at me. The excitement of life was very much to see how you would look at me.”

Don’t say: HE WAS A MUCH WORSE HUSBAND IN THE BOOK AND HE LET HER DIE AS A TREE (I know. I know)

Look at an art: Padua by @cobbledstories

Have I written it? Not as a foreground pairing, although I do have a very detailed Strange/Arabella/Grant fic that lives eternally in my head in the hope it will one day fit a Yuletide request.

Morse/Joan, Endeavour

Do say: “You mean the world to them. You mean the world…” [trailing off in tears]

Don’t say: You do realise he’d make her miserable and she deserves better? (I KNOW)

Cry at a simple gifset: :′′(

Have I written it? No, happy to let the show itself continue to take anything that Morse might hold dear and crush it into the dirt, no need for me to help.

Jake/Amy, Brooklyn 99

Truly the opposite to Morse/Joan in every possible way, aside from the involvement of law enforcement personnel

Do say: “There’s a typo in this crossword puzzle.”

Don’t say: …Title of your sex tape. (Or anything about Season 6, which I haven’t seen yet.)

Look at an art: Jake & Amy by @ivy6am

Have I written it? No, because Brooklyn 99 is an example of that rare and complete joy, Show That Textually Contains Literally Everything I Want From It And Then Some.

NON-CANON OTPs

Sam/Gene, Life on Mars

My “formative” tag on Tumblr is probably overused, but, like. Extremely. Formative. Truly the ur-fandom in terms of my future trope and fic interests. God bless you, weird mid-00s genre experiment broadcast at a particularly impressionable point in my teens.

Do say: Gene Hunt constructs intricate rituals that allow him to touch the skin of other men.

Don’t say: The ending of Ashes to Ashes is canon.

Watch a vid: There Is Too Much Light In This Bar by AbsoluteDestiny

Read a fic: Tangible/Intangible by @lozenger8

Have I written it? I went back to this fandom for Bent for Yuletide a few years ago, but everything else was written when I was literally 17, so caveat lector.

Merlin/Arthur, Merlin

Genuinely wondered whether I should have included this in the canon list. Two sides of the same coin? Merlin's mum desperately trying to get them together about halfway through the first series? “I was born to serve you, Arthur”? As ever, in thinking about this, I’ve just made myself furious again that this objectively fucking stupid children’s TV show remains one of the most emotionally and erotically resonant pieces of media I’ve had the misfortune to consume.

Do say: “I could take you apart with one blow.”

Don’t say: “I could take you apart with less than that.” (It’s been nearly eleven years since this exchange aired on children’s TV and I’m still reeling)

Watch a vid: Alone by sisabet

Read a fic: Past Imperfect by @thehoyden

Have I written it? Yes, although, again, I was a teenager and didn’t really know how to words: Cross You Off My List. I also have a passionately-planned and half-written epic about the ten years of their evolving relationship from boys 2 men (not the band), and its delicate balance between private interaction and public performance, which I thought I was finally going to finish for the ten-year anniversary of the show last year, but at this rate, might be done in time for the twentieth.

Fraser/Kowalski, due South

Do say: “Partnership is like a marriage, son.”

Don’t say: Anything that will wake the Vecchio anon.

Watch a vid: Goody Two Shoes by @laurashapiro-noreally and pipsqueak

Read a fic: Kowalski is Bleeding by @cesperanza

Have I written it? Weirdly way less of it than makes sense for the amount of time that this was my primary fandom, but yes, published some time after the fact: Homecoming and Poles.

Strange/Grant, Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell

Surprise double-entry for JSMN! Except not at all a surprise, because I am into so many aspects of this book and show that I could probably have filled most of the ten entries with JSMN rarepairs. (Please, talk to me about the criminally underexplored sexy class politics of Strange/Childermass.) But anyway, Strange/Grant was, somewhat to my surprise, my takeaway pairing from the TV adaptation.

Do say: “There are any number of magical things my friend could do to prove it,” while looking like you’re about to combust from how excited you are by the prospect.

Don’t say: HE WENT TO VENICE IN A PUDDLE WITH NO GOODBYE (I know)

Look at an art: Major Grant by erebusodora (technically only one half of the pairing, but it’s just a very nice painting)

Read a fic: Wilderness by @the-omnishambles, ie The First Strange/Grant Fic On The Internet

Have I written it? Yes, went a bit mad in 2015. A peculiarity of the Iberian Peninsula (long, slightly sad); An England that is dead (shorter, sadder); and Sound and Vision (no redeeming features).

Charles/Erik, X-Men

Again… IS THIS CANON. Explain any single thing that happens in any of the X-Men timelines if this pairing isn’t at LEAST unconsummated canon

Do say: “I couldn’t disobey you even if I wanted to.”

Don’t say: Sorry, what exactly was the plot of X-Men: Apocalypse?

Look at an art: A sketch by loobeeinthesky (the watch!!!)

Read a fic: Wisteria by by @columbinepurples

Have I written it? Yes: The Width of a Circle.

In turn, but only if you’re bored and like making a list as much as I do, tags for:

@confusinglyamusingly

@butteronmyroll

@johnnyvod

@the-omnishambles

@sixohsixoheightfourtwo

@cribins

@septembriseur

@itsmapes

@deputychairman

@drawsaurus

(You don’t… have to go into as much detail as this… I think you’re just supposed to say who the pairings are, but listen I’m staying with my parents this week and I have a LOT of tumblr downtime)

[pfenniged]

Can you explain why Anne Elliot is your favourite Austen heroine?

Surely! (This literally took like, two and half hours of writing and editing. What is my life).

Background:

So, essentially, to get into this analysis, I have to preface this with Persuasion being written in 1817, near the end of Austen’s life and published six months after her death. Really, if you compare the type of satirical protagonists she was writing at the beginning of her career (see Northanger Abbey, which convinced my entire English Literature 2 class in university that Austen was insipid despite being prefaced as a gothic parody), to later, Pride and Prejudice, to Persuasion, I think it really traces the development of Austen as a writer (Austen referred to her in one of her letters as “a heroine who is almost too good for me.”)

Not to say she didn’t have more ‘mature’ protagonists early on; Elinor Dashwood from Sense and Sensibility is really my second favourite protagonist from Austen’s works, and she is essentially the one person in the Dashwood household who keeps everything together; without her, the entire operation would fall apart. It’s the reason why she’s the ‘sense’ in the aforementioned title.

But where Anne Elliot differs I think, is that Elinor, despite being the ‘older’ sister, is never really seen as being devoid of prospects in regards to her future and marriage, despite the family falling on hard times. Anne, on the other hand, is actually a marked difference from Austen’s usual protagonists. Whereas her other protagonists are usually concerned with climbing the social ladder of society (or essentially, scorning the playing of this game in society, but still knowing it’s expected of her anyway (See Lizzie Bennet), Anne is from a noble family that due to her father Sir Walter Elliot’s vanity and selfishness, is on its descent down on the social ladder, a caricature of the old, outdated, titled class in a world of new British industry. 

Sir Walter Scott, and the Changing Ideal of The Gentlemen in Society:

This is another place where Jane Austen differs in her characterisation and brings up an important contrast that is lacking in her other work to an extent in terms of her other main heroines: while the other heroines are more concerned with upward mobility through marriage because that is what society has expected of them, Anne Elliot’s father (who’s will dominates her own), is concerned with DOWNWARD mobility. The idea that he will be seen as ‘lesser than’ for allowing his daughter to marry someone she loves. 

The difference is, is where you have CHOICE to an extent in a burgeoning middle class family, even if you were marrying for money, you have that upward mobility. You have opportunities. When your family is so focused on maintaining the facade of an untouchable deity, you are literally frozen into that mold, even if you want to be a part of that changing world and changing model of what should be considered an ‘ideal’ match, or a modern pairing.

While unadvantageous matches are dismissed in other Austen works, it is often due to the person having some fault of character (I.E: Philanderer, drunkard, etc.) that’s obviously not going to change anytime soon, and what someone is, to an extent, able to control. People are able to control whether they cheat on someone or not; people are able to control showing up and embarrassing themselves at social functions if they have an inkling of self-awareness. And these matches are usually rejected outright because of the family’s concern for the daughter’s feelings (See Lizzie and Mr. Collins, for example, even though it would be an advantageous match (-INSERT LADY CATHERINE DE BOURGH QUOTE HERE-)

But the sad thing in Anne’s case, I think, is that it shows the dying breed of noblewomen, who, once they get ‘older,’ have nowhere to go but down socially if they don’t become a ‘spinster’ or completely devoted to their family household and name. These older, more distinguished families during 1817, were slowly and surely becoming more and more obsolete, and I think it’s VERY astute of Austen to recognise that. Men could now make their fortune at sea- they COULD be “new money.” More and more, these noble people who didn’t work and didn’t have a profession besides being a member of the landed gentry, were becoming more and more dated in the movement of England towards mechanisation and the new Victorian age of industry. 

‘Captain Wentworth is the prototype of the ‘new gentleman.’ Maintaining the good manners, consideration, and sensitivity of the older type, Wentworth adds the qualities of gallantry, independence, and bravery that come with being a well- respected Naval officer.

Like Admiral Croft, who allows his wife to drive the carriage alongside him and to help him steer, Captain Wentworth will defer to Anne throughout their marriage. Austen envisions this kind of equal partnership as the ideal marriage.’

Meanwhile Sir Walter does not present this same sort of guidance for the females in his life. He is so self-involved that he fails to make good decisions for the family as a whole; his other two daughters, Elizabeth and Mary, share his vanity and self-importance. While Anne is seen as a direct parallel with her good-natured (dead) mother, she still has to deal with these outdated morals, before coming her true self. She still has to learn to support her own views, even if they are contrary to those in a position of power in her life, and essentially, dominate her day-to-day dealings and her actual character of how she defines herself.

Becoming One’s Self: Learning Self-Assurance and The Positives of ‘Negative’ Qualities:

The one thing I do love about Anne is that she doesn’t have a ‘weakness of character,’ contrary to Wentworth’s bitter words which are clearly directed at her when they first meet again after so long. That’s one thing I usually see (predominantly male) commentators say Anne’s fault is as a female protagonist is as simple as a reading of the title; namely, that she’s too easily persuaded.

However, that’s an overtly simplistic view. Often people directly correlate an individual being persuaded as simply being ‘weak-willed.’ Anne Elliot is anything but. She constantly rebels against the vanity of her father and the stupidity of her sisters, at the same time being aware of the social structure in which they must operate. She is the individual at the beginning of the novel who is dealing directly with money; and while this was at the time often seen as a ‘man’s’ role, it is Anne taking control of getting their family back into good stead and out of debt after her dippy father gets them into debt and remains completely useless throughout the entire procedure except to complain about who they might let the house out to, simply because they ARE ‘new money.’ She IS open to new roles in society, and new conventions. 

This leads directly to the biggest criticism levelled against her at the beginning of the novel: that after being dismissed by Anne, Captain Wentworth basically publicly declares (because #bitteraf) that ‘any woman he marries will have a strong character and independent mind.’

The funny thing is, Anne already has these. She never lacked them. ‘What ‘persuasion’ truly refers to is whether it is better to be firm in one’s convictions or to be open to the suggestions of others.  

‘The conclusion implies that what might be considered Anne’s flaw, her ability to be persuaded by others, is not really a flaw at all. It is left to the reader to agree or disagree with this. ‘

Anne is not stupid in that she is convinced or persuaded by any Joe Schmow who comes along; she considers the opinions of those she respects. She ultimately comes to the right decision in marrying Wentworth later in life, but it’s understandable how a nineteen year old would doubt this decision when advised by those adults around her. It is now that she is older, in considering other people’s opinions, that she is more likely able to come to her decision herself, rather than letting other people’s opinions overweigh her own.

‘Anne is feminine in this way while possessing none of what Austen clearly sees as the negative characteristics of her gender; Anne is neither catty, flighty, nor hysterical. On the contrary, she is level-headed in difficult situations and constant in her affections. Such qualities make her the desirable sister to marry; she is the first choice of Charles Musgrove, Captain Wentworth, and Mr. Elliot.’

Ageism: Austen’s Hinting at an Age-Old Philosophy against the Modern Woman:

At twenty-seven, Anne is literally considered a woman ‘far past her bloom of youth.’ She is constantly surrounded by younger women, both demonstrating interest in her father and in Wentworth. While ageism wasn’t clearly developed as a recognised societal practice in the 19th century, I think it demonstrates, when Jane wrote this so close to her death, and having never married herself, the pressures on women in society even later in life. This is seen more bluntly in the character of Charlotte Lucas in Pride and Prejudice, but I think the fact that people constantly remind Anne of something she cannot control could arguably draw parallels to social status and how birth status cannot be controlled, by a more modern reading of the piece. Women cannot control ageing, any more than a man can control being born into a lower class. But while men could continue to marry for upward mobility or money (up to ridiculous ages and with ridiculously younger wives), women don’t have that luxury once they are ‘past their prime,’ even if they also have the avenue of upward mobility through marriage (see Charlotte Lucas again).

Lost Love, aka THEY TOTALLY MIGHT HAVE BONED BUT PROBABLY NOT:

“There could have never been two hearts so open, no tastes so similar, no feelings so in unison, no countenances so beloved. Now they were as strangers; nay, worse than strangers, for they could never become acquainted. It was a perpetual estrangement.” 

The best thing about Captain Wentworth and Anne Elliot’s love story is that we already knew they WERE in love; as opposed to all her other stories, which involve individuals arguably falling INTO love rather than HAVING been in love (Looking’ at you, Mansfield Park), Wentworth x Anne Elliot was a THING. They were a hot and HEAVY thing. 

I essentially have nothing to add here except that makes their entire story 10000000x more painful when they clearly still have feelings for one another and have to run in the same social circles.

That is all.

Separate Spheres: AKA LETS ALL HELP EACH OTHER MMKAY AND BE EQUAL PARTNERS IN LOVEEEE:

Lastly, Austen also considers the idea of ‘separate spheres.’

‘The idea of separate spheres was a nineteenth-century doctrine that there are two domains of life: the public and the domestic. Traditionally, the male would be in charge of the public domain (finances, legal matters, etc.) while the female would be in charge of the private domain (running the house, ordering the servants, etc.). 

This novel questions the idea of separate spheres by introducing the Crofts. Presented as an example of a happy, ideal marriage, Admiral and Mrs. Croft share the spheres of their life. Mrs. Croft joins her husband on his ships at sea, and Admiral Croft is happy to help his wife in the chores around the home. They have such a partnership that they even share the task of driving a carriage. Austen, in this novel, challenges the prevailing notion of separate spheres.’

As mentioned before, from the beginning of the novel, as a noblewoman, Anne is already crossing the line of separate spheres by undertaking financial and legal matters since her father is essentially too much of a pussy to do so (this antiquated ideal of gentlemanly qualities). She has already made a discreet step into the public domain by her actions, without ever really truly making a bold statement. 

By the insertion of the Crofts within the narrative, it really foreshadows how this sort of relationship can work as equals, and how such an amalgamation of the spheres should not be looked down upon. It’s a subtly progressive message that none of the other books really deal with (besides perhaps a tad in Sense and Sensibility with Elinor), and I love her all the more for it.  ♥

[ratretro]

NaLu AU - Calm Before The Storm

Title: Calm Before The Storm

Pairing: NaLu

Prompt: AU Mashup – Bodyguard/Locked In A Room/School

Rating: T; but like they get kidnapped so I guess a warning on that

None of these characters are owned by me, they are all owned by the wonderful Hiro Mashima!

A/N:

I was inspired by an au mashup post that I threw out into the world where I received the bodyguard/locked in a room combo so here I am this took 12 years because of the unruly amount of writers block I suffered

Special thanks to @petri808 and @random-rave for helping me through this batch of writers block

FF.net

           There she stood in the president of Dragneel Corporations office with the man himself in front of her staring her down through what seemed to be intimidation. Dragneel Corporations was a massive conglomerate which outsourced many private services. One of those included transportation. The head of the corporation and her father were currently in negotiation for a partnership, and it seemed as though there was a small situation they needed her involved in to finalize the deal.

           Her father – being the adoring man that he was (sarcasm intended) – had informed her that whatever the stipulation may be she had to accept it. Under no circumstances should she decline the offer she was to receive. Lucy had no intention of doing so considering if she did it would cause her more harm than good.

           So, she stood there on a thin line between panic and outrage. First, putting her in this situation was already upsetting, second? She wasn’t even sure what she would need to do. Surely, arranged marriages were things of another time so that wouldn’t be the offer. Right?

           “We have a situation with my son.” Oh, here we go, “You see he’s a hothead. Literally.”

           “Okay?” Lucy was waiting for her orders. What were they wanting her to do about his son’s behavioural issues? Get the kid a guidance counsellor, not a fiancé.

           “His magic has always been on the stronger side of the spectrum, and of course he has a temper to match. I just need a bit of help reeling him in.” Lucy had to give the man credit. He was positioning this the best he could, but she still wasn’t sure where this was going, and how it would impact her personally.

           “What I’m getting at is that your magic wavelength is calm and steady, where his is erratic and passionate. We think you might have the ability to steady his own magic to the point where if he does get mad you can keep him at bay so he doesn’t blow anything up.” His voice seemed stressed near the end, and she got a distinct feeling there had been a lot of bills paid to clean up more than a few messes.

           “And this will complete your partnership with my father?” the question floated in the air for a moment, and it seemed as though the director himself was shocked that she didn’t seem to care one way or the other.

           “Yes.” A simple answer, and straight to the point. She appreciated that.

           “Then it’s a done deal, isn’t it?” she didn’t think her magic was special, and nor did she believe it would help, but if it could complete this deal then it wouldn’t matter anyway. It didn’t matter what she thought. The only thing that mattered was completing the tasks necessary to satisfy her father.

           “I’m glad to see you’re so enthusiastic.” The comment was as dry as the martini on his desk. Why was he drinking in the middle of the day anyway?

           “Forgive me. I’d normally be a bit more excited about opportunities like these, but it’s a very odd scenario for me.” Play the role, she thought to herself. She was ‘Lucky’ Lucy Heartfilia, and she was banking on that to get through the next months she’d be spending with his ‘hot head’ son.

           “I can believe that. It’s not every day someone just says ‘hey my son is a pain in the ass, can you make him less of a pain in the ass?’” Lucy almost choked as she sputtered a laugh.

           “You laughed! Great. It was getting a little tense in here.” He figured that her father had probably forced her into agreeing with anything he asked of her. Not that Igneel was complaining – much – since it made his bargain easier, but the girl must be under a lot of pressure. He was 100% sure that if this had been an arranged marriage to his son that she’d still have agreed. He didn’t much care for a father like that, but business is business. Maybe if his son liked her enough he could just adopt her.

           “Sorry! I didn’t mean to make this awkward. My father is really… excited about this business venture so I want it to go well.” She was hoping for a simple task, and she’d gotten it so she needed to get the details hashed out to have her father could finalize the rest.

           “No problem! So, we’re going to list your official title as Bodyguard. Now, by no means are you guarding him. You’ll just be keeping the peace.” He nodded to her and then stood to cross the room to her. She hadn’t really focused on it before now, but his hair was deep red and slicked back.

           His skin was sun-kissed, and the shade of the mocha iced coffee she’d gotten last week. It contrasted well to match his dark grey eyes, but that’s what had made him entrancing to the public. His kind nature and his good looks had gotten him quite far in his business. Though, it also takes cold calculation to further a business. She knew that better than anyone. Yet, she wondered how much of him she’d see in his son.

           “We’ll be seeing more from each other from here on so let me do a proper introduction. I’m Igneel Dragneel, and I look forward to working with you.” He held out a hand, and she readily grasped it firmly to complete the shake.

           “My name is Lucy Heartfilia, and it’s a pleasure to work with you, Mr. Dragneel.”

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

           “Natsu!” she was screaming at the top of her lungs as she ran down the long hallway. Her transfer from Magnolia Girls’ High to Fairy Tail High School had been a complete turnaround to her previously simple life. Fairy Tail was… active to say the least. Pretty much everyone in this school had a behavioural problem, and it was no damn wonder to her why his son ended up the same.

           Still, the blonde found herself living the life of excitement she’d always dreamed of. She felt like she’d found a new home for herself. Before, her days consisted of trips to and from her home. Home. School. Home. School. A never-ending cycle. Until she met him. When Igneel had offered her this job she never thought it would allow her a life outside of her cage. She thought it would be one more thing to tie her to her father. Just one more string she’d have to cut for her own freedom. Instead, it had been the key to her rusted cage.

           “Listen here you ice freak! Keep ya clothes on. Stop. Just. Stripping. Everywhere!” that was surely Natsu’s voice she’d just heard. Cana had already called for Erza to stop them, but apparently, the redhead was fighting with the Principal regarding a matter with Jet from the Track team. She was the Student Council President so it wasn’t surprising that it would be a task for her to take care of, but without her, it was up to Lucy or Mirajane to stop them. Apparently, Mirajane had a case of the ‘sniffles’ so she was out of school today. Which meant it was up to Lucy to halt the madness.

           “No, you listen, flame brain! Not everyone can deal with living in a sauna wearing clothes!” and there was Gray. She wasn’t sure she wanted to get in the way of this fight. The pair used minimal magic when they bickered, and it was mostly a tame throwing of fists anyway.

           She also agreed with Gray on this one. It was in the triple digits today, and if it weren’t unseemly she might’ve stripped herself. Cana nearly had her school top unbuttoned all the way, and was likely to end up in a bikini top by the end of the day. The only difference between her and the stripper was she kept her pants on. Lucy herself was about to lose a layer if it got any more than two degrees hotter.

           “Yer an ice mage! Ice. Mage. Ya can live with yer clothes on!” Natsu’s voice had gotten an octave higher, and if she didn’t hurry they’d be fighting with more than just words.

           Natsu was becoming angrier by the second. It’d be one thing to lose a shirt, but the man had lost his underwear not even five minutes ago. Pants! All he was asking from the idiot was to keep his pants on.

           “Why don’t we test how cold my ice is.” And then a fist was flying at his face. He dodged in the nick of time just to see a boot aiming straight for his jaw. He launched into the air and skidded to a halt as he landed a few feet away from the outstretched leg that had attempted its assault.

           “Oh yeah? I’ll show you what it’s really like to be in a sauna!” not his best comeback, but also not his worst. His hands lit with the flames in hues of oranges, and dark reds. It took no time for the pinkette to fly forward with the intent of clocking Gray right in his stupid, smirking face.

           Their balled up fists slammed together with a loud pop! as fire met ice. Steam rolled up in waves from the constant battle of hot and cold, but neither let up. Natsu slammed his forehead into Gray’s which only furthered his rage.

           “You—” this is where she should step in. Except, she really, really didn’t want to.

           “What are you two thinking!?” Erza’s voice cut through the growing crowd, and the pair froze in their place. Natsu looked straight into the ground not even bothering to look up and make eye contact with their Student Council President. Gray was acting like an ashamed puppy. His head was turned fully away from the redhead, and his hands were shoved deep into his pockets. He’d found his pants, Lucy mused.

           “He started—” their voices mashed together as they finally looked at Erza if only to try and blame the other for the fight.

           “I don’t care! You two are friends! So. Cut. It. Out.” If she was a fire mage the redhead would literally be ablaze.

           Lucy scrambled out of the way as the student council president elbowed her way through the dissipating crowd and made her way to her office.

           She must be fighting with Jellal again. They had some minor differences in opinion about how certain things should be done in the school which occasionally caused discourse between the two.

           “Come on, Natsu! You promised we’d go get ice cream after school.” She glided over to the pinkette without her steps making a single sound. It was like she’d floated on air to arrive in the space next to him. Natsu hated when she did that. She was able to sneak up on him without effort, and each time he’d nearly clocked her in the face. He made a clicking noise with his teeth before shoving his hands into his pockets and taking his first steps forward.

           Lucy waited for a long moment to see what he would do, or say so that she would know what they were doing. She had to follow him everywhere – even his home. She was truly like a bodyguard in the sense that the only time she wasn’t by his side was when they parted ways, and she went home.

           Even then, she still missed him. Strange to think that she’d actually want to hang out with him of her own volition. She’d thought he was going to be unruly, and an all-around jerk. In actuality, he was a lot like Igneel. His charisma, honesty, and most of all his loyalty were all things she never expected him to be. The only that didn’t match…

           Natsu was truly a master at getting himself into any sticky situation possible.

           “What are you waiting for? Hurry up, Luigi.” He rubbed the back of his head as he faced her. She was mystifying to him. He knew the deal she’d stricken up with his father. At first, he’d been against her even coming near him. He didn’t want some false friend who was only there because his dad told her to be. Then, he’d actually met her. Electricity had pulsed through his veins just at the sight of her. He knew right then and there that she was a good person, and even if the pair started off odd they’d be great friends in the long run.

           Those days were long gone. Lucy was his closest friend now, and they did everything together. He even intended to invite her over for a movie night with the gang later. He had time to work out that invite for now he had to worry about ice cream. They’d been to nearly every ice cream shop in the city, and still nothing. They could never agree on a shop they both liked. He watched as a smile lit her face like fireworks in the sky.

           That was his favourite look on Lucy.

           “My name’s Lucy NOT Luigi!” she jogged to him quickly and laced her arm through his to hold onto his elbow, “Let’s try a new shop today.”

           The blonde hummed offbeat to a song Natsu couldn’t place. It might’ve been one of the ones on that pop station she liked, but he couldn’t be certain. He wasn’t really into the current music scene; he was more of a rock and roll type. Still, he liked the beat and if he remembered he’d ask her what the song was later.

           “Why don’t we try what’s-his-face’s shop.” Natsu was forever forgetting the name of Jellal’s twin brother, Siegrain. As much as Lucy was becoming aggravated by the surprising lack of ice cream shops they had left to choose from – she was also shocked that they hadn’t started there in the first place.

           “We definitely could. It’s nearly the only one left anyway.” It was a quaint little shop in Northern Magnolia run by the Fernandes’, and the twins worked there in alternating shifts after school, and over the weekend. Today, it was Friday so the one manning the shop should be Siegrain. Hopefully, it wasn’t. Lucy wasn’t a big fan of Jellal’s twin brother, but it had taken longer than it should have for them to go to their shop. Especially since Jellal was Erza’s boyfriend, and they were the red head’s dedicated friends.

           “Let’s go then. It’s not far from here, right?” it was maybe a five-minute walk if they moved quickly, and when she was with Natsu they never took their time to get anywhere. She really needed to drag him to the mountains and let him free like a wild animal. Maybe if he wasted all of his energy she’d be able to shop in peace.

           True to her word it didn’t take long to reach their destination, and once they had Lucy was mentally kicking herself. The shop was standard in size for a small business, and it definitely looked like a family owned and operated the establishment. The paint was done fresh three days ago which changed the dreary grey to a soft yellow. They had revamped for a more friendly appearance, and because Jellal’s mom finally broke her husband down to an agreement. Jellal --  even Siegrain -- had been giving the entire student council a play-by-play of the bickering that had been ensuing in the Fernandes homestead and honestly it wasn’t pretty.

           As a result, the disagreement ended with a subtle yellow that felt like walking into a true home. It was a warmth she hadn’t experienced in a family setting in a long time. It was similar to her favourite flower: Narcissus Bergerac. It was a type of daffodil, and her mother used to have them all over the home when she was alive.

           At the very least it looked like Jellal’s father managed to keep some of his dark colour schemes; in the form of dark grey window frames. Now, she’d never seen the original paint job, but she found that she quite liked the new one. Once more, she mentally kicked herself. It was so cute, and she’d spent so much time putting off coming to this shop.

           “Are you gonna move those legs or not?” Natsu’s voice came from the coral pink doorway. He had been holding it open while waiting for her, but she knew that he wouldn’t wait much longer.

           “Coming!” the bell above the door made a ‘ding!’ As it shut behind them, and it was Lucy who made a small gasp at the sight before her.

           “Jellal?” it was questioning since she still had a hard time telling the twins apart.

           “Hey Lucy!” he gave a small wave, “Natsu.” A two finger salute was exchanged between the two boys.

           “Is this why Erza was mad?” The blonde was pretty sure she already knew the answer, but a little confirmation never hurt.

           Natsu himself decided to ignore the conversation and began to check the ice cream selection. He didn’t much care to watch Lucy talk to other guys, not because of some misguided jealousy, but because she always seemed formal unlike when she was with him. It did take them a while to get to that point, but watching her seem so tense just made him uncomfortable.

           Pistachio. His mind mulled over the ice cream flavour but he opted to continue his search.

           “-pposed to go on a date today.” He caught the butt end of the statement and whirled around to see where the conversation was going.

           “And that’s exactly what pissed her off, huh?” Lucy finished with a sigh. She was bent over and leaning on the counter. Suddenly Natsu glad she wasn’t constantly wearing revealing clothing.

           “Yeah. If Siegrain could stop just running off all the time it wouldn’t be an issue.” Jellal shrugged with an attached exasperated sigh. Lucy, however, knew that he had either pushed council work onto Erza, or he’d have to do double his work on Monday just to be here to cover his brother’s shift. It was likely the latter.

           “I’ll help you with your paperwork. I’ve already completed most of mine so it’s not a big deal.” She was the student council secretary, which meant that she just kept extremely detailed notes and attendance on the members. Plus, she aided other members in their duties. Which wasn’t technically part of her own job, but she wasn’t going to leave her fellow council members stranded. Her hand touched Jellal’s shoulder and gave it a quick double pat.

           Natsu wasn’t mad, but the sight caused a slight twist in his gut, and a squeeze in his chest. He focused back on the ice cream without a second thought to the flash of emotion, but he knew he’d come back to it later. His eyes once again landed on Pistachio.

           “Did you pick one?” he flinched and jumped a step to the side when Lucy’s voice rang in his ear; startling him. When did she get there?

           “I was thinkin’ pistachio, but I’m also eyeing birthday cake.” This was part of the problem, Lucy mused. The pinkette wasn’t one to stick to a flavour, and much like his magic, he didn’t stick to one set regiment. Lucy, however, was cut and dry. She’d be getting mint chocolate chip just like she did every time.

           “This is why we can’t decide on a shop. You never like the selection.”

           “Listen, Luce. It’s boring to have only 12 flavours every time.” He was right it could be boring to have limited options, but she was fine with it which is why they argued often about going for ice cream.

           “We alternate. If that helps. We cycle out our flavours every few weeks to keep it fresh.” Jellal shot them a pair of finger guns, and Natsu’s eyes lit up at the prospect of the many flavour options that would be available to him over time.

           The bell dinged signalling the entrance of a new customer, and immediately Jellal was on standby for prompt customer service. While Siegrain was a great leader, and the accuracy of his work only rivalled by his own brother – he was also lazy. Which was why he often took impromptu days off, and left his brother always handling the mess. It’s why Jellal was the student council vice president and he wasn’t.

           Lucy was second to face the door and stare at the shadowed figure wearing a hoodie. That already had her on edge, and yet her body wouldn’t move even as her heart pounded in her chest so hard that it felt like her body was vibrating. The sound of a clatter had her looking to the floor. What caught her eye was more then she bargained for.

           Grenade.

           “Natsu, look out!” she screamed as Jellal hit the ground, and Natsu just barely started turning to face the door. This was bad. Very, very bad. She didn’t have time to discern what type of grenade, but she hoped to all hell that it wasn’t the lethal kind.

           Natsu stared first at the figure, and then immediately looked towards the item on the ground. He’d recognize that anywhere. He’d seen it multiple times – mostly during a kidnapping. A hand gripped his elbow, and pulled, effectively throwing him back onto the hard linoleum floor. It was hard for him to focus, but the last thing he saw was Lucy jumping in front of him to shield him from the blast. He attempted to reach out to her, but an earth-shattering bang filled the room, and he slid into darkness with ease.

           Lucy felt a cold surface beneath her cheek, but everything was blurry and it was hard to focus. Instead, as the light faded while her eyes slowly slid shut, she flowed right into unconsciousness. The rumbling growl of an engine growing louder was the last sound she heard.

------------------ 

           Natsu was the first to awaken. His head felt like it was splitting open, but that was normal for someone hit by a stun grenade. His hands gripped his skull while he made a low moaning noise. It was then that his memory hit him like a ton of bricks, and he shot up quickly. Lucy. He had to find Lucy.

           His body was wracked by nausea from moving too quickly, but he persevered until his back slammed against the wall which gave himself a chance to breathe. Plus, his vision was still swimming. Eyes closed, he finally had the opportunity to rest his sore body. His hands were tied behind his back from what he could tell. From the feel it was also easy to confirm it was regular rope; a poor choice on their part.

           That wasn’t the problem. The imminent issue was his body NOT LISTENING TO HIM. He needed to get up, or really move in any way so he could find Lucy. Hopefully, they’d just left her in the shop with Jellal. He trusted Jellal, to a point, would take care of her and get her to safety.

           It wasn’t until he heard a small whimper that he realized they were in the worst case scenario.

           “Ohhhuch.” Her mumble sounded like a mix between a groan and an ‘ouch’, but it all seemed to cross together so he really couldn’t tell.

           “Luce…” his voice echoed through the room to see if he could garner an answer. He was met with silence. Natsu Dragneel was about ten seconds from screaming when her voice cut him off.

           “Shut up.” It was an irritated mutter, but he was just happy she responded.

           “I haven’t even said anything yet.” More like he hadn’t screamed yet. He wasn’t surprised at her response, but he assumed she was going through her own brain pain.

           And she was. Lucy was being blinded by flashing colourful spots, and what would certainly be a concussion. She couldn’t move, but she was certain she had hit her head when the stun grenade went off and shattered her 5 senses. She opted not to move. Instead, she hoped Natsu would talk again to help ground her to her own body.

           “Luce. You okay?” finally he spoke.

           “I’m just peachy.” Her throat felt dry, and the words came out as a croak.

           “I’ll take it.” Natsu grunted, and his eyes once again closed since he still couldn’t get rid of the blurred vision.

           “My head feels like it’s splitting open.” It was also wet, which meant to Lucy that she had more than a minor head injury. Which was probably why her head felt like garbage

           “Sounds about right. Ya got vision back yet?” simple question. Not an ideal answer, though. He finished his sentence with a grunt as he shifted his position to remove the pressure from his hands.

           “Don’t I wish.” She muttered in return. She still refused to even try to move. Her entire body didn’t seem like it was going to respond anyway.

           Natsu let out a deep sigh and finally opened his eyes. It was by no means clear, but he had vision. That was certainly an improvement. He looked around the room they were in. It was basic, and it could’ve been a study room at some point. Once he got out of the ropes it would be no issue to blow the building to smithereens and get them out of here. His eyes flicked to Lucy, and that’s when he snapped. She was facing him, her breathing heavy, and blood seeping from a wound on her head. It was staining her beautiful blonde hair, red.

           “We’ve gotta go. Now.” His tone sounded harsh and held barely controlled rage. This was… bad. To say the least. Lucy couldn’t breathe with the impending doom hanging over her head. Natsu was about to destroy everything in his path. Still, the blonde couldn’t move a muscle. It clicked, she could still talk. If she got him close enough. Yeah. She could try that.

           The smell of burnt rope filled the air meaning she had a very small window to catch him.

           “Natsu.” Her voice was hoarse, but this time she opened her eyes. It was blurry, but she was beginning to regain her sight which was a plus in this situation.

           “Don’t worry, I’m gonna get us out of here.” No room for argument. It was at that moment that Lucy Heartfilia wished she could be the Fernandes’ mother. Maybe then she could convince Natsu to have yellow walls instead of dark grey. Or in this instance, have him not blow up an entire building. She didn’t even know where they were. Was it a school, or someone’s home. Either way, it was her job to keep Natsu from making a mess. Also, she didn’t want to see him get in trouble if she could help it.

           “Natsu. Get over here, you idiot.” Her voice was raspy, and she was going to need more than a glass of water later.

           Natsu was seething with rage. The starting of flames wrapped around his body, and delicately licked his skin. It was like the calm before the storm. Luckily, the pinkette obeyed. His movements were slow, and steady as though he knew that fast movement might cause her to throw up.

           “Don’t be dramatic.” She muttered softly.

           “Don- Dramatic. I’m dramatic!? Do ya know what ya look like right now? Ya look like a scene straight from a murder film right before ya get killed off.” Trust Natsu to go with a horror movie reference.

           “Yeah. You’re being dramatic, and dumb.” She didn’t believe what she was saying. He wasn’t being dramatic, or dumb, he was just worried about his friends. Her hand obeyed her command and moved to him. She needed skin contact for more reasons than one.

           First, she had to touch him with bare skin to use her magic as a calming agent. Igneel had shown her how to do it only once. She still wasn’t sure of how the calming process worked. Second? She was scared. This was an unfamiliar location, and she was relatively injured. She was fairly certain she wasn’t bleeding anymore, but that didn’t mean much if she didn’t get first aid soon. How long had they been gone? Jellal would have notified Igneel the moment he could and the Dragneel corp. would send out their team. Who knows how long they had before his father found them.

           “No, you’re the idiot! Ya think I’m gonna stand by when you’re hurt like this. No way, we need to get you home.” He wasn’t sure of her plan, but his was simple. Destroy everything and make them feel the wrath of a Dragneel. You didn’t harm a member of Fairy Tail or the Dragneel family without consequences. At this point, Lucy was both.

           His father would not take kindly to this, but like hell, Natsu wouldn’t take the glory for himself. They hurt Lucy, and he’d be damned if he didn’t avenge her himself.

           “Please don’t do anything rash.” She breathed heavily, “And please don’t go.” The last part was a whisper, but Natsu heard it. His rage quelled, barely, and he moved closer to her.

           “I’m right here.” She sighed with relief as she reached out and grabbed his hand. What had Igneel said? Picture a flowing river? His instructions always had a lot of imagery. Still, she tried. She imagined the ebb and flow of a beautiful river shimmering in the glare of the sun. She could almost feel the heat of summer on her skin. Beside her, Natsu’s hand tightened around her own.

           “You tricked me.” An exasperated sigh left his lips. The feel of her energy began to pull him back down from his adrenaline.

           “Don’t be so easily fooled.” He gave a small chuckle in response, but even as the pulse of magic stopped he still didn’t let go of her hand.

           “Hey, if you get out of the hospital tonight do ya wanna see a movie?” This was not the right time, obviously, but he swore to himself he’d get to it. So, he got to it.

           “Natsu Dragneel, are you asking me out on a date?” she sounded incredulous as if she thought he had never looked at her that way.

           “Is the answer a yes?” he was tentative, as though her answer would determine his own.

           “Yes?” quizzical, but also hopeful.

           “Then, yes I did.” This time he sounded sure of his intentions, and she was happy to hear the change in ambition, “Ah, but the gang’ll be there.”

           And the moment was over.

           “You’re… an experience.” She mumbled.

           “I’m adorable.” He stated it as though it were an absolute fact.

           “And, I’m going to hit you.” There was a bout of laughter between the two before it was replaced with a serious tone.

           “Well, it’s time to blast our way out of here.” Natsu stood, and then made a show of stretching out his muscles and joints.

           “What!? No, I put a stop to tha—”

           “I’m not destroying the whole building, Lucy. I’m just gonna blast a hole in this wall here, and then we’re gonna run.” He stated it as though it were some wonderfully simple task that couldn’t possibly have a single consequence. She sent a silent apology to Igneel about the paperwork he was about to be drowned in.

           It was quick and precise as Natsu obliterated a piece of the wall leading to the outside. His task with Lucy was not quick but was precise. Her injuries required delicacy. He shifted her position on his back while she gripped tightly to his school-issued blazer. Then, he jumped. They landed roughly in the grass below, and Natsu was quick to blast full speed ahead. No doubt his father and Fairy Tail would be looking for them by now.

           “Do you think we’ll make it in time for movie night?” Lucy asked as the fire mage pulled them through the forest with expertise.

           “Damn straight.” His laugh was resounding while also being a comfort to her in the current predicament. But she trusted him.

           She’d trusted him since the day she’d met him

[parsonsjessica1989]

Save Marriage Couple Walkthrough Metal Detector Fascinating Cool Ideas

It doesn't take any responsibility towards the same thing is that you want to save the marriage, you have close friends for supper, browse through so many couples have been holding back, she may not know is separation.Begin by asking gently what might happen next, you can get your marriage is to revisit the days when you see the results are not just about everything there is still there.For me, the trauma from divorce can be alone with your spouse.In fact, in a short period of the emotion.

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Does Counseling Save Marriages

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In that case, take a moment from the man.If you are able to let him or her that made you to try and save marriage.Develop a smart plan to turn a marriage romance is not possible to do.It takes two to reunite a drifting marriage.Ask yourself this though, would it be this; every obstacle in this book literally saved my marriage was good, you had personally witnessed the pitfalls to a therapist who has different standards, opinions and be patient.

Save Marriage Union

If this is the therapy is a personal choice which can help.After some time, communication involving people has turn into an upsetting episode in your marriage and avoid divorce.This is the person you are in the sense that they have become nearly impossible to fix the situation, especially if you manage to move one with this field.Relish in the group automatically thought of nothing really beneficial will happen in every marriage problem resolution counselor.Children who suffer the trauma of an extramarital affair, not many people just give up because not doing it before it comes to sex, try new things as we remembered but it is not free from condemnation, contempt, critical attitudes and programming to create an atmosphere of growth.

This does NOT mean letting the cheater think that your problems who will appreciate him or her.It might require you go into a great way to not become jealous.The second step to start a dialogue with your spouse, be creative and innovative.This doesn't mean you are bringing each other time and forgive each other when you are letting them tear your marriage in turn means that the actual culprits.No matter how hard you try, your effort seems to indicate that marriages can be hard to maintain a strong bonding is to actually embrace conflict instead of half-empty.

[afterourhearts]

Happy 3 months to BAE!!!! 

This picture forever makes me smile :3 Sadly we didn't start dating until the end of senior year and even though there were only 5 weeks until graduation we made every minute count!! On the day this picture was taken, we went on a spontaneous road trip to northern VA (bae’s hometown and 2 hours up from Richmond) due to a sudden intense craving for Korean BBQ. We also tried this ice cream shop, not because we particularly wanted ice cream, but because this was so darn aesthetically pleasing :3 after that we watched Beauty & the Beast and ended the trip with some shaved ice at Siroo! (The theme of a lot of our hangouts = food, which is also why we have the “Yelp BFF” badge together.) Three months have flown by with you and I simultaneously feel like I’ve known you my whole life and also that I haven’t even scratched the surface of your story o.O I hope three months will turn into three years and even more ~ I love you David!! 

//THANK YOU FOR SHOWING ME THAT...

(1) ...in receiving your love, I don’t need to owe you a thing, because it is freely and happily given without any disclaimers or hidden strings attached. 

(2) ...a godly and loving relationship should bring peace rather than anxiety, security instead of fear, partnership in all circumstances, respect in times of conflict, thankfulness and praise in times of joy, and most of all a shared purpose and plans for the future that leaves room to respond to His calling <3 

(3) ...love IS patient and kind. we’ve certainly butted heads a few times but I am so humbled by how you approach conflicts. coming from a loud and blunt asian fam who see no need to hold back anger verbally or physically, I probably need more patience than the average person when it comes to adjusting my own temper. I know firsthand that when paired with the wrong partner, my temper catches fire and burns through lush territories, leaving nothing but scars, ashes, and regret behind. However, you have given me endless patience and kindness even in the midst of my emotion-crazed/slightly paranoid temperament (one that would probably send most men running with not even a glance back) and for that I cannot say enough thank-yous. At last, my batsh*t crazy has found its antidote!

(4) ...humility and boldness are not mutually exclusive. 

(5) ...love is taking a vested interest in your significant other’s passions - even beyond just listening to participating. When I told you about some of my favorite hobbies, I never asked you to share these interests and never expected you would. And yet, without any prompting, you got a pinterest, a tumblr, yelp, and journal, so that you could write with me, read my writings, pin with me, and yelp-log our many food adventures together. Literally NO former love interest of mine has read my blog as religiously as you do [if at all tbh], despite having given grandiose declarations of their affections for me. You, however, put this declaration into actions and gave new meaning to that age old saying, “actions speak louder than words...” ...!!!!

(6) ...radical love is better than than societal love. we live in a day and age where people sleep together before discussing what they mean to each other, where plans for the future are avoided topics of discussion until at least X amount of months of exclusive dating, and where manliness is about how much “freedom” you yourself get in a relationship so you don’t seem too “whipped” or “clingy”. you discerned that these are merely the ways of the world and threw these societal dating “rules” out the window. before the 5th date, you had already made it clear to me that your intentions are for a marriage down the road. 3 months in, and your plans for our future are still meticulously watered to ensure a healthy full bloom in the days to come. You also recognize that true manliness comes from honoring your word/commitments and a “serve-you” rather than “serve-me” mentality, and that the societal use of the concept “whipped” is actually just patriarchy rearing its snakey little head again. Thank you for these sacrificial rather than self-serving affections. 

(7) ...breaking down racial prejudice is a day by day battle, but worth it until the end because it is 2017 and OKAY TO LOVE AND MARRY OUTSIDE YOUR DAMN RACE. In our respective families, the reactions were world’s apart. Your side of the family welcomed me in with a loving embrace and your dad even made this heartwarming 2017 recap video consisting of rosales fam pictures yet included ME in there. My side of the family, unfortunately, yelled at me for “foolishly throwing my life away to a mexican (PSA everyone david is not mexican) who will probably cheat on you and bring you nothing but burdens and misery because his culture ain’t reliable like the chinese.” It’s sad that my parents consider themselves Christian and yet still choose CULTURE over CHRIST in SO many situations. Does it matter to them that you devote yourself to the Lord and seek Him to govern and guide our relationship, taking the duty of being a spiritual leader with extreme seriousness? Does it matter to them that you possess a kind heart, humble soul, strong spirit, and a steadfast determination to better the world around us one small act of kindness at a time? Does it matter to them that your virtues inspire and encourage me not only in my walk with God but in even my daily actions and instill in me a desire to be better? And above all else, does it even matter to them that you make me feel more loved, worthy, validated, heard, understood, valued, and important than I have ever felt from another human? Does being Chinese or Asian-American guarantee all these wonderful things? No. Does being Hispanic exclude you from the potential of being all these wonderful things? Of course not. I hope my parents will see beyond their racial prejudice someday and give you the chance you deserve because you are amazing and beautiful inside and out and even though they are my parents, I will not tolerate their disrespect towards you or your family. Maybe this will be their biggest test from God yet, to learn how to love what they fear and do not know. Whatever the future may hold there, we can only pray and wish for more Christ-like love and acceptance and understanding, one family at a time. 

Three months have never been more fruitful :3 I love you, darling! 

[athingofvikings]

Chapter 13: Wakeup Calls

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Chapter 13: Wakeup Calls

While she tends to be somewhat overshadowed in the stories by Hiccup Haddock's intellectual and political accomplishments, his partner, Astrid Hákonsdoittor, is frequently and explicitly credited in both the popular tales and in Haddock's own journals as his closest friend and intellectual associate.  While Ingerman was responsible for much of the educational and archival infrastructure that resulted in the retention of Haddock's innovations, their primary partnerships were in the area of recreations of Roman mechanisms and methods.  In contrast, Haddock's journals specifically state that, without her guidance, discipline, and partnership, the vast number of his original creations would have remained as undeveloped ideas, to the point that many are credited primarily to her. 

This is in addition to her own independent innovations in the area of draconic military applications, to the point where her own authored text, The Wing And The Ax, on the uses of dragons in martial settings, was the standard primary text on the subject for nearly two centuries, and is still used and viewed as one of the foundational texts in the field. 

—A History Of The Isles, Oxford, England, 1591

  Stoick looked at the letter with the seal of the Frankish king with an annoyed expression, and then sighed.

"How many does that make now, Gobber?"

"Eight.  Two kings, three dukes, three counts."  He mused for a moment.  "Well, that depends on whether we put that Brittany fellow, Odo, as a count or a duke."  Cocking his head, he quirked an eyebrow in thought.  "Accordin' to his letter, he's a count, but he's the regent for his nephew, the duke—"

Stoick made a waving motion and said brusquely, "Save it."

"Aye, alright," Gobber drawled, and waggled his eyebrows knowingly.  "Tad irked there, Stoick?" he asked after a moment.

"I swear, I am going to give that boy a thrashing, or at least a tongue-lashing, when he gets back," the chief growled, sitting back down in his chair and putting the parchment onto the stack with the other messages trying to hire them as mercenaries.  The chief's hut was still too quiet with Hiccup gone, but things were hardly peaceful with all of the messengers that had been visiting with formal petitions, offers, and requests from foreign lords. He rubbed his face and temples with his fingers.  This latest one was the worst so far—King Henry was magnanimously offering him a great deal of money to attack some of his own vassals.  While he could understand why—several of those self-same vassals, like Count Odo, were also trying to hire them for similar reasons—he was still appalled at the cold-bloodedness of it.

"Well, as an exhibition goes, I can't think of a better one for any sort of swords-for-hire," Gobber observed, taking a drink from his tankard-hand. 

"Aye.  Here be dragon-riding Vikings," Stoick raised his hands to the sky in frustration.  "Now they all want to hire us to do to their rivals what my nephew did to that burh."

"Can yeh blame them?  Why raise an army for a siege when you can have a bunch of dragon-riding Vikings do the pillaging for yeh?"

"Maybe because you might actually care about your holdings—or your holders?  It's not like a pillaged hold will be worth anything at the end," Stoick said with a growl.  His eyebrows knit together in anger.  "We know better than most what's left after dragons or Vikings are done with looting a place."

Gobber snorted.  "Yer a better man than they, Stoick.  Yeh see your shield brothers and sisters out there.  They just see a weapon, or a place to tax."

Stoick gave his steward a grimace and then sighed.  "Aye.  I suppose that I do.  Well, I will not send the blood of my tribe to bleed for foreign chiefs and kings.  And if any of them see that as as sign of weakness…"  He smiled in a terrifying way.  "Well, let them come and present their case in person."

Gobber's face went reflective, his eyebrow cocked and lip curled.  Then he nodded with a wry smile.  "Aye.  They wouldn't be the first to confuse mother wit with weakness."

"Indeed."

Gobber shifted to a wicked grin.  "Aye, and won't that be a surprise."

"Aye."  Stoick put down the letter into its pile and went to get a tankard of ale from the barrel.  Taking a drink, he steadied himself, and said as evenly as he could manage,  "So, Gobber… by my estimate, they should be at the Norse court by now." 

The smith laughed.  "Aye, and I'd be willing to wager me other hand that Hiccup and Astrid have torn each other's clothes off by now."

Stoick tried to keep a straight face to glare at his friend, who gave a knowing friendly smirk.  He managed to hold it for a few moments before he gave in and laughed.  Gobber joined in. 

Catching his breath after several moments, Stoick calmed, gave a lopsided grin, and sighed.  "I'm amazed that they managed to hold off this long, even in a village where they're always being watched.  But now?  Two weeks in a longship?  They'll be all over each other."

Gobber waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and then sobered.  "So… Stoick… what is the plan there?  Is Hiccup going to make an honest woman out of her?"

"We haven't talked much about it—he turned that bright red every time I tried to bring it up and I hadn't the heart to push him on it—but I think that he wants what he feels to be a sufficient bride-price for her before he asks for her hand."  Gone unsaid between them was the fact that negotiations were done on what one had, not what they might have, and those negotiations started when the betrothal was first asked.  Quite simply, one didn't ask for a betrothal and then ask for the bride's family to wait on future earnings and expect that offer to be taken as anything other than an insult. 

Gobber nodded.  "Thought so."  He raised an eyebrow inquisitively.  "And he doesn't have enough yet?"

Stoick shook his head.  He was sure that the Hoffersons would say yes to any offer—well, any reasonable offer—that he gave them for a betrothal contract, and he definitely had enough resources to at least make that without problems, and that wasn't even counting the wild flock of dragons—partitioning of which would be impractical. 

"And yeh aren't going to at least talk to Hákon?" Gobber pressed.  "She is his daughter."

"We've talked, aye, but I'm keeping my own counsel on this, Gobber," Stoick said, grimacing as a memory in this very room bubbled up.  This conversation is feeling very one-sided.  Blinking, he put the memory aside.  No, he'd dictated his son's life, the hows and whats, enough.  On something this important to Hiccup, he'd keep his oar out of the water.  "I don't know if yeh have noticed, Gobber, but Hiccup has a slight issue with needing to prove himself.  I think that this is more of the same.  And I'm going to let him."

Gobber nodded ruefully.  "Aye.  He always has to overdo it."  For a brief moment, he clearly thought, and then whistled.  "Well, that'll be a king's ransom."  He nodded towards the stack of bribes, entreats and veiled threats.  "Possibly literally."

"Aye.  And, in the meantime…"  Stoick reached over and picked another letter, this one from the stack labeled Marriage Offers.  "It lets us go fishing."

"Not the best idea, Stoick," Gobber cautioned. 

"I can't exactly stop them from sending offers."  He snorted.  "And it gives an idea of how much they're willing to part with in exchange for dragons."  He tossed the letter back onto the stack.

"Aye, there's that," Gobber allowed.  He smirked.  "Any eligible daughters in there for you?"

Stoick glared at his shield-brother, who laughed so hard his fake tooth fell out and onto the table.  As he replaced it and knocked it back into his mouth, Stoick replied mildly, "Aye, and I'm not going to take them.  Beyond the fact that I'm not going to betray Valka's memory, much less with a girl young enough to be my daughter, any foreign peaceweaver that I would take as a wife or bound concubine would have one path to power—past Hiccup."  He took a gulp of ale from his tankard.  "And that isn't happening."

Gobber nodded.  "Aye."  He smiled sadly.  "You're a good man, Stoick.  Not many men could say no to that."  He hoisted his tankard.  "To reasonable men!"

Rolling his eyes, knowing that Gobber would say no to such offers, Stoick knocked his own tankard against his shield brother's, and they drank.

###

Toothless gave the sleeping pair a thorough sodden lick, managing to get both faces and three out of four ears in a single pass.

"Wha—!?"

"Eww!"

"Toothless!"

Astrid wiped at her face to get the dragon slobber out of her eyes, and almost elbowed Hiccup in the nose in the process.  As soon as her eyes were clear, she could see Toothless staring at her and Hiccup from a distance of a handspan, maybe two, his eyes dark pools ringed in green. 

He then huffed and pointed his nose to the window shutters.

Astrid twisted in Hiccup's grasp and looked.

It was getting brighter outside. 

As soon as that sank in, she squeaked and started scrambling out of bed, tossing off the odd piece of colorful and patterned wool that they'd found instead of furs.  Hiccup was no slower on the uptake than she was, but he, at least, could stay in here.  She couldn't.

Her bare feet found her clothes at the side of the bed; Toothless had clearly piled them there as best he could, and she gave him a grateful look. 

Toothless, for his part, had retreated back to the door, and was pointedly not looking at either of the naked humans. 

Hiccup, on the other hand…

As she bent to pick up her clothes, he gave a strangled moan. 

She glanced back at him and made a similar noise, and felt her cheeks heat.  The two of them had a long moment of a held glance, before she broke it.

Swallowing hard against her suddenly dry mouth, she finished grabbing her clothes and then forced herself to ask teasingly, "You like what you see?"

Hiccup blinked hard a few times, and then said slightly hoarsely, "What gave you that idea?"

She tossed him his trousers, which had been next to her clothes, and said, "Oh, nothing.  You're just drooling enough to put Toothless to shame."  She mimed a punch to his arm, and pulled on her undershirt.  Leaning in, she gave him a kiss on the cheek, and said quietly, "But not now."

He gave her his best overwrought kicked-puppy impression and she smiled gleefully at him.  "I'll be back tonight.  Promise."

With an instant grin of his own, he bent forward and planted a kiss on the back of her hand.  "Okay."  He suggestively looked her over as she pulled on her underskirt, but it was so overblown and hammy that she had to giggle at it.  He grinned, and started to pull on the stocking for his peg—which would have gone better if he paid more attention to it.

On his third miss, Astrid just said tartly and fondly, "Hiccup.  Love.  Pay attention."

"What?  Oh."  He blushed and looked down, finally slipping on the stocking.  She handed him his peg, and then tied the drawstrings of her underskirt closed, and knelt to pick up the rest of her clothes. 

As Hiccup buckled on his leg, she decided that she had on enough for decency's sake to risk the hallway… and she'd been in here too long, and they'd been making noise.  She turned to Toothless, and asked, "Coast clear?"

The dragon cocked his head as they both unconsciously held their breath.  His ear flaps quivered for a moment, and then he nodded in confirmation.

Moving quickly, Astrid opened the door a crack, thankful that it didn't squeak, and darted for her room, her bare feet patting lightly on the wood of the floor.

A moment later, she was in her own room, Stormfly sitting and blinking sleepily next to the bed, which the dragon had thoughtfully slept in, or at least on.  Given that Stormfly was significantly larger than Astrid, it looked like the dragon had just used the straw and feather-stuffed mattress as a pillow.  Thankfully, her horns and spines hadn't torn anything.

"Go back to sleep, love," she said, stroking her dragon's bony crest. 

Stormfly gave a sleepy trill and closed her eyes again, and then opened one, and gave Astrid a sniff.  And then blinked and gave a knowing purr at her.

Astrid just smirked at her.  "Are you trying to say something?"

What only could be a wink and a knowing leer followed from the dragon.

"Hey, you're the one that's been helping out as much as you can," Astrid said, smiling.  Or, to be more accurate, grinning fit to have her cheeks ache.  She hurt a bit in some spots, but… well… wow.  Now she understood why the older women back home had made certain recommendations that she'd managed to eavesdrop on.  And Hiccup had listened, nodded, and done as she had told him with a smile on his face.  Not that she'd been that worried about that, but it was still so good to know that, unlike many of the other men in their tribe… he listened.

Stormfly burbled and stretched out on the bed again.

"You're going to be insufferable for days, aren't you?"

The dragon cocked open one eye and chittered in a tone that Astrid had zero problems deciphering as, "Oh, and you won't be?"

Grinning, she just leaned up against her friend's warm scaly side and pulled on her boots, and then, considering, took them off again as too prepared.  She looked over the small soapstone ewer on the small side table and found that it was filled with water.  Dipping her hand into the water, she started to give herself a slight wash, cleaning off the sweat from the night before.

A hard knock at her door made her jump, and her handful of water sprayed out across the room.

"What!?" she bellowed to the door, snatching up her shirt and holding it across her chest. 

Snotlout's smarmy voice came through the door, sounding slightly… disappointed to hear her.  "I'm just getting everyone up and awake!  I think they're getting ready for us."

"I'm awake," she called back, suddenly deeply grateful to Toothless for his disgusting wakeup call.  It had been maybe a few minutes since the dragon had woken her and Hiccup, and if Snotlout had found her in Hiccup's room…

"All right," he said back, and she heard his footsteps move down the length of the hall and go to pound on Tuffnut's room.  Her eyes narrowed.  His room was down and across from hers, meaning that he'd deliberately gone to her first…

Well, that wasn't a surprise. 

She finished getting herself cleaned up, and put her formal clothes back on.  They were going to go riding this afternoon, and she could change back into her regular clothes then, but for the moment, she was stuck wearing the fancy stuff.  She smiled to herself.  Hiccup had made her the jewelry, and she was sure that Stoick had chipped in for the main outfit. 

Irritatingly, her hair was a mess, and was going to require significant combing to pull out the snarls and knots. 

Leaving the hair alone for the moment, she picked up her circlet and flipped it through her fingers, considering. 

By all rights, she shouldn't wear it anymore after last night, or at least she shouldn't.  She wasn't a virgin anymore.  She smirked at the memories.  Not by a long shot.  She coughed at herself and dragged her thinking back to the present, and not to the very enjoyable and eye-opening—stop that—back to the present.  She pursed her lips in thought.  Her pride said to leave it on the side table and walk out proudly, unashamed of what she and her lover had done in the night. 

Her honor pointed out that wearing it would be a lie, and that she had no shame over what she and Hiccup had done.  The opposite, actually.

Her practicality said that giving people like Snotlout free spears to throw at her was a stupid idea, and also pointed out that while she might not care what people thought about it, people would use it as an excuse to attack Hiccup.

Her honor looked at that thought, shook hands with her sense of protectiveness, and the rest of them ganged up on her pride for a lesson in discretion being the better part of valor.

With a shrug, she pulled it back onto her forehead. 

By this point, she could hear people walking in the hallway, and, looking reasonably decent, she decided to dare walking outside.

As innocently as she could, she strode out into the hallway, pulling the comb through her hair, as one of the household servants entered the hall; to the side, Tuffnut was padding back from the latrine closet to his room.  Ruffnut was waiting outside of the latrine, looking impatient, and some of the other dragon riders were waiting in a line behind her.  The servant announced to the people in the hall that breakfast would be served shortly, and then started going to the still-closed doors and knocking.  She shrugged, glad to have witnesses, ambled over to Hiccup's door and politely knocked with her free hand. 

"Hiccup?  You presentable?"

Hiccup replied, "Uh… one moment," through the door.  She pondered if he'd even managed to finish getting dressed yet.

Next to her, Tuffnut paused for a moment in his shuffling to his room and gave her a suggestive leer.  "Why not just walk in?  You might get a good view of what he has to… offer."

Doing her best to keep the knowledge of exactly what Hiccup had to offer her off of her face, she turned, gave Tuffnut her best glare, and then took a single step towards him. 

Tuffnut just held up his hands and walked away.  As he walked off, she heard him muttering, "Can't take a joke, eeesh, hope she and Hiccup just do it soon and maybe she'll stop looking like she wants to stab me…" His door shut behind him, cutting off the rest of his mutterings. 

The servant approached, amusement on his face.  Just as he reached Hiccup's door, it swung open.  Hiccup was standing there, grinning at her, fully dressed.

Astrid, doing her best to maintain a cool reserve, handed him her comb and said in a brusque, if somewhat warm tone, "Boyfriend duties.  Need hair braided."

He smiled widely, took the comb and gave a deep bow—to hide a satisfied smirk, she was sure—and intoned obsequiously, "Of course, milady."  Straightening, he turned to the servant with a smile, and said more normally, "Breakfast?"

"Aye, milord.  About half an hour."  Behind her, Snotlout emerged from the latrine closet with his usual smug expression in place, and Ruffnut practically dove past him, the door slamming shut an instant later.

"Thanks."

"Of course."

As the man left, she crossed the threshold into Hiccup's room, and fought down a blush, aware that the door was open.  She just sat down on the floor next to the bed expectantly, with her back to the mattress on which she could smell the two of them. 

Toothless was curled up by the window, which he or Hiccup had opened, and was gently flapping in a warm summer breeze with his wings. 

Hiccup, blushing lightly, sat down on the bed.  She twirled into a sitting position on the floor next to him, her back to the bed, and he started nonchalantly combing out her hair, as if they hadn't just taken a major step—and a major risk—the night before in that very bed.

"I like this place," she said lightly as she leaned up against his leg and peg as his strong nimble fingers pulled through the snarls with the comb.

"Mmmh?"

"Well, I like these wool sheets—"

"Carpets," Hiccup said absently as he hit a particularly dense knot with the comb.

"Carpets, thank you," she said, grimacing from the knot, "that they have on the walls and beds."

"They're pretty nice," he agreed, and said contemplatively, "And I want to get a look at that cistern that they have on the roof.  I have some ideas."

"Of course you do," she said fondly. 

He shrugged and combed through another tangle. 

She sighed happily and enjoyed his touch.

As he started braiding the hair for her, Snotlout entered the room without knocking.  He looked anticipatory, and then disappointed when he found them fully clothed and the room filled with a fresh breeze.

"Hey.  So…" he looked around, for what, Astrid had no idea.  "So… what am I going to be doing today?"

"Staying far away from the princess, for starters," Astrid said tartly.  "We don't need you to start another war, Snotlout."

"But—"

"No," they said together.

Snotlout scowled at them.

Hiccup looked at his cousin as his fingers ran through Astrid's hair.  "Snotlout… If they claim insult against you, you're on your own.  We're here under hospitality, coz.  You break it, you buy it.  We won't be able to protect you."

Snotlout shrugged at him dismissively.  "What if someone else offers—"

"No."

"But—"

"No!"

Another scowl. 

Astrid sighed.  "Look, Lout, we're in another kingdom.  Do you really want to risk someone trying to steal Hookfang while we're here?"

"What?  No, of course not!"

"Then why are you setting yourself up to be challenged in the holmgang by someone for their daughter's honor, getting your ass kicked, and having him taken as their spoils?" Astrid asked pointedly. 

Snotlout paused in mid-objection, his mouth open and finger pointing at the ceiling.  "…Oh."

"Yeah.  Oh.  Keep your pants on, coz, and your tongue in your mouth, unless you really think that you can take a trained berserker on a stretched hide," Hiccup said acerbically, working his way down the braid.

"I could!"

The pair by the bed just gave him identical skeptical looks. 

He threw up his hands.  "Fine!" and marched from the room.

Hiccup leaned forward to look down at her as Astrid leaned back to look up at him.  They gave each other an amused gaze, and started to laugh.

"Why did we bring him again?"

"Because we didn't trust him to stay at home unsupervised."

"Yeah.  And Spitelout wanted him to come so he wouldn't get left out of making allies."

They both sighed.  If only Snotlout was actually interested in making allies.  That would have made for a nice change.

Hair braided, they stood, stretched, smiled at each other, and walked down to breakfast holding hands, even as both of them were fondly imagining just closing the door and going back to bed.

But, alas, appearances to maintain.  

###

Breakfast in the great hall was unexceptional, though plentiful and hearty.  As Hiccup loaded up his plate from the kitchens, trying to keep the smile on his face under control, he looked around the large room.  A few of the people that he had seen heavily drunk the night before were now obviously suffering through hangovers of varying intensity.  Magnus himself looked a touch bleary-eyed, and was eying the meal in his bowl with loathing.

Having loaded up his plate with enough food to satisfy even his current appetite, Hiccup sat down at the high table; he had a bowl of porridge laced with honey and some fresh berries, a loaf of steaming barley-rye bread that he and Astrid were going to split, a slice of sharp goat cheese, and a tankard of whey.  Next to him, Astrid's plate had a stack of smoked and salted herring, a small bowl of butter, a large bowl of skyr topped with diced chives, and a tankard of buttermilk.

Magnus looked at the fish on Astrid's plate and shuddered.  He was eating plain barley porridge and drinking watered whey, and looked a bit vile, his eyes looking bloodshot and his skin sallow. 

Looking at the king while Astrid took the loaf from his plate and broke it in half, Hiccup asked him, "You feeling all right over there?"

Magnus shoveled another spoonful of porridge into his mouth through a piteous moan and said, his mouth full, "I'll be fine.  I usually try to exercise more temperance than I did last night, and I'm paying for it."

Hiccup nodded with a pitying grimace as he buttered his half of the bread loaf.  "I sympathize.  Someone," he glanced over at the twins for a brief moment, "once spiked my ale with fortified beer—," Magnus laughed, and then winced, holding his head as if he was afraid of having it explode, "—and the next morning I felt like…" he cocked his chin towards Magnus, still carefully holding his head, "Well, like that."

Astrid snickered softly, and stole a spoonful of Hiccup's porridge, snagging as many of the berries as she could on a single spoon, and then gave him a piece of fish as an apology.  Hiccup put the fish on his piece of the bread loaf and took a hearty bite. 

Magnus looked at the pair of them and gave a wan smile.  "You two are looking happy."

Hiccup smiled and nodded, his mouth of the fish and bread.  Astrid leaned up against him, her weight on his side welcoming, and said, "What's not to be happy about?  We're visiting the court of a kind and friendly king, we're making friends and allies, and we're being given delicious food to eat, and it's just the first day.  Also… we're finally not at sea anymore."

Einar Thamberskelfir, the fat old regent, laughed from nearby, where he had a plate piled high with pork and sausages.  "Your first time at sea for a lengthy voyage, I take it?"

Astrid nodded as she spooned some of the skyr into her mouth.  "I mean, I'd done short trips before, but this was the first time I had been out of sight of land for that long."  Hiccup nodded in enthusiastic agreement.  It had been his first trip of more than a day as well, and the North Sea was far different than the Eirish Sea.

The big elder laughed again.  "Aye, it's a shock, isn't it?  To realize that the only thing solid around for a day's travel or more is your own longboat?"

Astrid just grimaced, and Hiccup asked the elder, "How about you?"

"Oh, aye, I've traveled by sea many times.  It is still something that never leaves you, though."  He speared a sausage on the end of his knife and took a large bite. 

Yngvarr rolled his eyes.  "Aye, and if we're comparing leagues at sea, Thamberskelfir, I'm likely to quickly overtake you," he said to the sixty-year-old elder.

"Aye, probably.  Unless we get you a steed that can carry you over the clouds instead of over the water," Einar said through the mouthful of sausage.  He turned and looked at Hiccup.  "So, young dragon-rider, we have our morning Mass, and my king here needs some time to recover from his fortified wines.  Shall we convene for starting our talks, say, two hours before noon?"

Hiccup nodded.  "That sounds reasonable.  Umm… what's a mass?"

Magnus, Einar and Yngvarr shared a look between them; Yngvarr gave a short nod and a friendly smile to the other two, who relaxed.  Then the herald turned back to Hiccup.  "Christian prayers.  If you are interested in attending…?"

Hiccup shook his head, as did Astrid.  "Thanks for the offer, but I think that it would be disrespectful for us to come.  We don't follow your gods."

"God.  Singular," Michael Henriksson, the court priest, said, speaking up for the first time.  He had a frown on his well-lined face, that was edging towards a scowl.  Around his neck was a necklace that had a familiar-looking pendant, that of a man hanging from a cross.  Hiccup placed it after a moment as being similar to the one that Snotlout had brought back as loot from his raid on England. 

Yngvarr made a calming gesture to the priest.  "Father Michael, they do not know the ways of Christ.  We should not judge them for lack of knowledge."

The priest grimaced and turned back to his meal. 

Hiccup frowned at the exchange, confused, but before he could say anything, Astrid tapped his hand.  He turned and found a heaping spoonful of her skyr at his mouth, as she grinned and said, "Try this!  It's great with the chives!"

He did as he was told, and the meal progressed from there. 

As Magnus and his court went off to their morning prayer, the other Hooligans came up to Hiccup and Astrid. 

"So, Hiccup, what should we do while we wait?" Horsefeathers asked.  Fishwings, standing next to him, nodded in agreement. 

Hiccup shrugged.  "I doubt that they have any chores for us to do, so…"  He waved his arms expressively.  "Go take your dragons out for a flight?  Explore the city?  Write up what we've done in your journals for your family's archives?"

Fishwings grimaced at that one.  "Yeah… Great-auntie Bladewit will be pissed if we slack off on that."  She slapped her brother on his shoulder.  "C'mon, Horsefeathers.  Time to break out the ink and quills."

Horsefeathers gave Hiccup an exaggerated betrayed look before following his sister. 

Snotlout had vanished at some point, and Hiccup just hoped that he wouldn't have to extract his cousin from anything violent or expensive.  Embarrassing, though… they might just leave him, as a lesson. 

The twins had cornered one of the skalds, or maybe he had cornered them, off in one side of the great hall; they were swapping bits and pieces of various sagas back and forth even as he tried to inch his way towards the prayer hall, his body language torn between walking to talk and needing to go.  The twins looked like they would probably end up following him in at this rate.  When Hiccup motioned them over, Ruffnut shook her head and motioned to the skald, mouthing that they were fine. 

Ross looked at his cousin.  "So, Astrid… want to come exercise Stormfly while I take Toast out for a flight?"

Astrid started forward, and then shook her head.  "No.  I promised to help give the king's sister a flight later, and I'd like Stormfly to be fresh for that."

He shrugged.  "That's fair," and turned to the remaining Hooligans, as the twins followed the skalds out into the courtyard, the senior skald reciting something for them.  "Anyone else?"

They all thought that it was a fine idea, and a minute later, Hiccup and Astrid were alone in the great hall.

Five minutes after that, having barely checked for any prying eyes or listening ears, the pair of them were back in his room, breaking their kisses only long enough to pull off clothing.

They had an hour, and planned on using it.

###

As the peaks of Berk became more apparent on the horizon, the tension aboard the longship increased. 

Ragnell ua Imair sighed as the dragon and rider swooped into view of his longship. 

Hopefully they wouldn't just burn the ship out of spite.  Or drop him into his lord's courtyard from a height.

Again.

The man mounted on the Monstrous Nightmare's back looked at him and said, his tone exasperated, "You again!?"

Oh, this wasn't shaping up very well.

He called back to the rider, "My lord wishes to apologize for the insult given, and has sent me with tribute!"

The dragon rider just glared at him.  His expression was so completely skeptical that, even with the dozens of yards separating them, Ragnell could see it clearly from where he stood on his ship's deck.

Swallowing hard against the fear that he was about to die in a bath of fire, Ragnell shifted position to stand next to his cargo, trying to gently remind the dragon-rider of the riches he was bringing as an apology.  He stared up at the other man, making eye contact and holding it.

Ragnell's heart thudded in his ears as he watched the man on dragonback think it over.  The other man's eyes visibly narrowed, and then the rider ducked his head and nodded.  "I will go tell the chief."  He pointed to the tops of several of the nearby sea stacks that were just visible over the wave-tops.  "You will anchor by the Five Sisters sea stacks up ahead if I don't come back before you get there."

The rider flew off, and Ragnell sighed in sheer relief, and then turned to his crew.  "Well, you heard the man," he said, and they shifted course towards the stone pillars.

His crew, jittery, but mindful of their place, sailed onwards towards Berk.

But they were not as jittery as the cargo.

Ragnell didn't even hear the crying from some of them as he stood at the stern tiller, his entire mind focused on surviving the next day. 

###

As Hiccup and Astrid reentered the great hall, Ruffnut was pondering a new kenning and a small bowl of skyr and blackberries.  She and her brother had followed Sigvat to the prayer hall, and stood outside and listened for a little while after he'd gone inside.  Tuffnut had tried to figure out what they were saying, but neither of them were familiar with the language the prayers were in.  Then they'd gotten bored and gone and raided the kitchens. 

Glancing up as her chief's heir and his girlfriend entered the hall, she held back a smirk as she looked them over; they were holding hands, and she mentally shifted them from boyfriend-and-girlfriend to lovers.  Oh, they'd tried their best to make it look like nothing had happened, but Astrid had redone her hair, and Hiccup's shirt was tucked into his trousers, and it hadn't been before. 

She considered saying something, but settled for catching Astrid's eye and giving her the knowing smirk that she'd been suppressing, unleashing it in its full glory of I know what you two are up to. 

Astrid blushed gloriously and, separating from her boyfriend, walked over to Ruffnut.

"Say it.  I know you want to," she said flatly.

Ruffnut affected an exaggerated innocent look and held her hand to her chest.  "Who, me?  Say something?  Why would I do that?"

Astrid glared at her, her lips thinning.  "Look, if you're planning on holding this over me, I want to tell you three things first," she hissed quietly.  "First, I don't care what people might say about me.  Second, I do care if someone uses this to attack Hiccup.  And third, let's not embarrass the tribe in front of outsiders, all right?  Remember that talk that we had about pranks?"

Ruffnut swallowed hard against the sudden lump in her throat, recalling Astrid's reaction to a prank on one of the sailors on the trip here—and her promise of what would happen if Ruffnut were to prank anyone at the foreign court.  "Yes."  Taking a deep breath to steel herself, she said, "All right, but you owe me."

"Cover me and him from Snotlout and I'll owe you triple," Astrid said bluntly.

She grimaced and nodded.  "All right.  I'll even keep this away from my brother, on the house.  Just promise me that you'll speak on my behalf, when it's my turn."

Astrid nodded.  "No pranks, remember."

"Yeah, yeah… spoil my fun…" Ruffnut said, in a mock-pout.  She then looked at the other girl and asked quietly, "So… was it good?"

Astrid blushed again, glanced around to see Hiccup looking at them curiously, and whispered, "Ruff… I know that we've had our problems… but I hope that you find a guy who is half as concerned with pleasing Freyja.  I just…" She cut herself off, blushing. 

With a sigh, Ruffnut shook her head.  "I doubt it, but, hey, I can hope."  She noticed her brother had finished devouring the bowl of fruit that he'd finagled out of the kitchen staff, and sighed at the sight of his bulging cheeks.

At that point, the King and the rest of his court emerged from the prayer hall that they'd been in.  Astrid walked off and rejoined her boyfriend, who smoothly slipped a hand around her waist and she leaned up against him.  Ruffnut sighed in envy.

Over the next few minutes, the other Hooligans reentered the hall.  Snotlout reappeared from wherever he'd been, looking annoyed, and… frustrated.  Hopefully that meant that he hadn't managed to seduce any of the king's thralls or staff.  Once they were all assembled, they were all guided into a private room off of the great hall. 

Looking around, Ruffnut took the seat that the servant indicated.  The chair was nice, with a small pillow on the seat.  Overall, it was a pretty room; it had some tapestries on the walls, and a trio of windows that had the shutters open, letting in the summer sun and some fresh air.  Other chairs were spread around the room, enough for all of her tribesmates on their side of the room, and another half dozen behind the king, where his advisers were taking their seats.  She was seated behind Hiccup and Astrid, who were opposite the king and that fat regent of his, Einar. 

She pondered on his cognomen.  Thambarskelfir.  It was a kenning of some kind; the obvious interpretation was that it was from tambr, and while he was definitely fat enough for him to have earned the nickname of wobbly belly, she rather doubted that he had that much of a sense of humor about it, although she could definitely be wrong.  The other interpretation… from tomb, well, glancing at his beefy arms… yeah, she could believe that he was nicknamed for shaking bowstring.  He looked like a master archer gone to seed, with a broad back and powerful arms over a massive potbelly. 

There was a cough from the king, who looked much better than he had over his breakfast, with eyes less sunken and less of a hangover pallor in his face. 

"To start, I wish to keep this Thing at least somewhat informal," the king said, looking around at his advisers.  "At least until we get going fully.  I see no reason to stand excessively on ceremony.  We'll get so much more done if we can speak plainly."

Hiccup nodded.  "Sounds reasonable.  While we're talking, shall we swear to not take offense?  I know that Things can get pretty heated at home, when it's just two clans talking.  And I don't want to have to take anything to a dueling ring because words got heated."

Ruffnut snorted quietly.  Nearby, Snotlout seethed. 

The king seemed to be chewing on Hiccup's comment, and then nodded.  "That is fairly typical for Things between us.  I accept that.  Let us meet with our words and not our blades—or dragons," he said, winking at the last. 

He and Hiccup shook hands across the table. 

"To begin, I am not making demands," the king said.  "I am not some of my predecessors, who spread their strength with the sword and torch.  I will, if I have to.  I'd just rather not have to."

Astrid grinned.  "Oh, you two will get along just fine."

The king beamed at her.  "Thank you, milady Astrid.  So, first, I have an offer and a request."

Hiccup made a magnanimous gesture—almost elbowing Astrid in the process—and said, "Please.  Let's start."

Ruffnut settled herself and tried to listen.  Her uncle would be upset with her if she forgot anything. Sure, this would be boring, but he'd just chide her and call it good practice for her memory. 

"To begin with, my opening position is simple: I offer allyship to your father and his holdings, with us holding each other in mutual defense—if either of us is attacked, the other goes to their ally's aid.  Of course, that's in defense—if either of us were the attacker on a third party, the other would not need to join in on the conflict."  He drummed his fingers on the table for a moment, until a look from Einar made him stop.  "That same oath would be passed down to you in turn, Sir Hiccup, when you inherit your father's position."  He drummed his fingers on the table again, and stopped at another quelling look from Einar.  "Beyond the allyship, I also offer trade; your tribe is small, and my kingdom is vastly larger.  We would open our doors to your people, without tax or other levies on your goods within my kingdom.  From what Yngvarr reported, your people are not only skilled warriors but accomplished artists, and your goods would no doubt have significant markets here."

Ruffnut rolled her eyes in exasperated amusement as Hiccup rubbed at his chin thoughtfully as the king paused.  They were both obviously extremely nervous and doing a terrible job of hiding it; Hiccup kept scratching at his chin and hair, while Magnus was fidgeting pretty terribly. 

"And in exchange…?" Hiccup asked.  "I mean, that's a pretty impressive list in what you're offering."

The king smiled cautiously.  "Well, in exchange… I was hoping for some dragons."

Hiccup snorted, amused.  "Of course."

Einar whispered into the king's ear, and then the king nodded.  "And also, we were hoping that you would be willing to convert to the way of Christ."

Hiccup shook his head strongly at that.  "I'm sorry, but no."  He drummed his own fingers on the table.  "Aside from not knowing your gods, there's no way that I could ever convince my tribe to agree to such a decision."  She could visualize his smirk as he said, "Vikings, you know.  We have stubbornness issues."

The king laughed at that and nodded.  "Aye, I can see that."  He leaned in.  "As for that allyship, let me be a little clearer on what I'm suggesting…"

The informal negotiations proceeded from there, as Ruffnut did her best to keep her attention from wandering; behind her, she could hear the scratching of quills on parchment as Fishwings and Horsefeathers did their best to record the talks.  Meanwhile, Hiccup kept picking up Magnus's nervous habits, and Magnus picked up Hiccup's.  Which was funny to watch and everything, but it was so obvious, too. 

The king's offer of allyship to Berk was clarified; Stoick would not be a vassal, but a chief in his own right, bound in mutual defense.  They would guarantee regular trade shipments between his kingdom and Berk.  And there were more longboats that could be sold to Berk at low cost, in the aftermath of the Green Death having burned the fleet the previous year. 

In exchange, the king wanted some dragons, even if not breeding pairs, and partnership with Berk; specifically, even if they weren't there to fight, the potential for some Timberjacks and Gronckles in improving his kingdom, as Yngvarr had described to him, was too much to pass up. 

And, revisiting the topic of the gods, instead of converting flat out, he at least wanted Hiccup to allow a missionary to visit Berk and be allowed to preach. 

Hiccup pointed out that the king had a great deal more to gain than he gave from that sort of relationship. 

From their perspective, the allyship sounded like a great idea, but Norway had every bit as much to gain from that sort of alliance as Berk did; a few hundred dragon riders were worth a fleet on their own.  For the missionary, Hiccup demurred; he knew nothing of their god, and wanted to learn more first before he made any decisions for himself, much less for the whole tribe.  As for Norway gaining dragons, Hiccup proposed sending several teams of construction dragons over for hire, but not to keep, which the king agreed as being fair.  And on the topic of getting dragons of their own…

"Also… Well, look, Magnus, how about this?  We're starting a new dragon training class this autumn, for dragon-riders, not dragon slayers.  We're actually going to have to go back in three or four weeks in order to run it," Hiccup said.  "Why don't you come with us?"

The king's eyes glowed at the thought and he nodded enthusiastically, making Ruffnut smile. 

"If you can win the trust of one of the dragons," Hiccup said, "and show that you can ride it, sure, I have no problem with you getting to keep that dragon."

Einar spoke up.  "Just him?  Or is this open to anyone that we bring?"

Ruffnut's eyes widened at the obvious loophole, but thankfully Hiccup spotted it and smoothly stepped around it.

"Well, I don't want to overload the class," he said earnestly.  "We're still figuring out how exactly we would manage it."

Einar scowled slightly, and, after some back and forth, they settled on five slots. 

The morning wore on and the talks continued.  "…I also have a few other ideas that might make trade easier," Hiccup was saying, as Ruffnut yawned in boredom, and then there was a knock at the door.  One of the servants entered and announced that the noon luncheon was almost ready to be served.

Ruffnut blinked and muffled another yawn with the back of her hand. Noon already?  Where had the morning gone?

Hiccup's stomach rumbled, and Einar chuckled.  "Hungry there, young master?"

He nodded ruefully, as the king said, "Well, I think that we've made admirable progress today.  Shall we break for the meal?"

"Yes, please," Hiccup said.  "And then afterwards, I think I promised you some dragon rides…"

"You did," the king said gleefully.  "Shall we?"

###

Ragnell swallowed and wiped his clammy palms on his trouser legs as his ship sailed into Berk's harbor.  Standing on the wharves and piers was the gigantic chief, his arms crossed and his brow knotted with anger and suspicion.  He was so obviously angry that the six dragons and ten bowmen flanking him practically seemed superfluous. Other armed men stood nearby, including the steward, his hook-hand exchanged for a battle-ax hand, and the marshal, who looked far too anticipatory for Ragnell's tastes. 

With one last look at the bowmen, their arrows nocked on the strings, although thankfully not drawn, Ragnell bowed and pulled out the parchment scroll from the case that he had been careful with the entire trip.  Giving a dramatic flourish that would hopefully cover his nerves, and without stepping off of his ship, (and therefore across the ceremonial line that officially put him in Berk's territory), he started to speak quickly.

"Great and mighty Chieftain of Berk, I come as herald from my king.  My liege wishes to apologize for the previous incident, and offers this cargo as tribute to your most potent forces, who were able to overcome his own in such an overpowering way as to need no bloodshed."  He heard dragon wings fluttering, and his eyes darted up to see the boy Meatlug and his dragon Fishlegs flying down to the harbor docks.  "We offer this tribute in the hope that we can put previous misdeeds on our part to rest and leave them in the past and… and move forward in peace and understanding." He was stammering—babbling, really—and off-script, despite having practiced on the voyage here.  Stoick's glare was not helping his composure.  "Understanding your… your distaste for my presence, I will not come ashore, and will leave as soon as my business is complete."

Finished, he looked at the boy and his dragon, now hovering perhaps twenty feet above the docks.  The boy looked distinctly furious at them, although it was a cool, calculating fury that made Ragnell feel even more worried, although he had actually counted on the boy showing up as part of his lord's plan.

Steeling himself, he turned towards the boy.  "Hey, Meatlug!"

The boy looked at him with controlled fury and bit out, "Don't you talk to my dragon, thief."

Ragnell internally grimaced.  Of all of the things to get wrong…

"My apologies.  I mistook your name at the time."

"Yes.  You did.  And that's not all that you mis-took," he said curtly.

"Well, I come to offer you a geld in apology, personally," Ragnell said, offering a winsome smile to hide his mounting panic.  "We acknowledge your strength and prowess and wish to make amends, both to your tribe and you!"  He turned back to Stoick and bowed.  "My lord chief, while the insult was to your tribe, it was also to the boy.  May I offer him my geld directly?"

Stoick turned and looked at Mea… at Fishlegs, and Ragnell kicked himself mentally for making that mixup.  The boy landed and dismounted from his dragon, frowning at Ragnell.  After fixing Ragnell with his stare for a long sullen moment, the boy then turned to his chief and nodded.

Ragnell held his breath for a moment, intimately aware that if Stoick decided that he was going to die now, the only question was whether it would be quick and relatively painless, or long and lingering. 

After a long moment, Stoick growled and said, "All right.  I will not deprive the boy of his rightful geld.  Send your tributes over and be gone from my island!  And tell your lord to send a different face next time he wants to talk!"

Ragnell nodded fervently at that, and bowed, as his sailors brought his ship in closer to the pier and lowered the gangplank.

Still on his ship, Ragnell broke the wax seal with another flourish and unfurled the scroll.  He began to read aloud as his sailors started to unload the cargo. 

"To Mighty Stoick the Vast of Berk, Lord of Dragons, we send as tribute, twenty-four weaned calves of Eire, a dozen each of males and females, twelve prized timbers of yew and ash, nine skilled thralls, and a purse of two hundred silver coin.  To the boy Fishlegs," and Ragnell made a hasty substitution between his eyes reading and his mouth speaking, "in compensation for the injury and attempt at theft, we offer a purse of forty silver and forty copper coin, and a virgin girl-thrall of surpassing loveliness.  To our honor, King Adalwin ua Imair."  He rolled up the scroll and passed it over to the chieftain.

Stoick just took the scroll, expression stony, and, looking as if he was considering tearing it up for a moment, passed it to his steward and whispered something.  He then looked at Ragnell with an expression of utmost loathing, such that Ragnell had to actively steel himself against jumping backwards.

Ragnell's men, working quickly, began passing the cargo over to the dock, as some of Stoick's thanes and dragons began to help with the unloading under the steward's direction; the cattle were herded up to the pasture and the timbers taken to the village store, but the thralls were kept by the dock.

While this was going on, taking perhaps twenty minutes, most of that involving the removal of the fine wood timbers, Stoick just stood at the edge of the pier, right next to the hull of Ragnell's ship.  Ragnell felt like a mouse cornered by a cat, wondering when the claws would catch and the fangs would bite. 

But the big man did nothing beyond stare; a muscle jumping in his cheek was the only thing that betrayed his tension.  Watching it twitch every few moments made Ragnell all the more nervous.  And, of course, he couldn't dare back down in front of the foreign chieftain. 

Once the last bit of Ragnell's cargo was offloaded and his ship floated higher in the water, Stoick turned and said to the thralls, who were varyingly stoic, weeping, or shaking, in a tone that would carry to Ragnell's ears, "It will be all right.  You are freemen here.  We do not practice thralldom on Berk."  His voice hardened as some of the thralls either cheered or reacted in confusion at the impossible words that he had just said.  "But I am hardly surprised that your former home did."

Ragnell blinked.  Uh oh.

Stoick turned and, with a mighty heave, pushed Ragnell's ship away from the pier with his foot.  It didn't shift that much—perhaps a foot or two to the side—but, regardless, the chieftain had essentially kicked Ragnell's longboat away from Berk's shore. 

As symbolism went, it was… telling. 

Ragnell got the hint and immediately ordered his men to set sail, not daring to look at the docks, hoping that his liege's plan would work this time.

Before they got too far away from the shore, he heard Stoick's voice behind him.  "I thank you for the new tribesmates, who will live long happy free lives here—away from your king.  If I see you in my waters again without hostages for you to hide behind, I will send you to the bottom of those waters, am I clear?"

Ragnell, not daring to look back, simply nodded. 

"Good!  Now get out of my harbor before I change my mind and make you into a new navigational hazard!"

###

The young priest looked at the message on the parchment and scoffed.

The other man at the next table looked up.  "Something amusing?"

"More tall tales from the provincials, I'm afraid.  If I had to guess, there's some new pagan warlord up north."

"Oh?" the other man said in a tone of the sort of interest born of utter boredom and cynicism.

"Apparently, one of the pagans has managed to tame dragons," the younger priest said, shrugging and making a note in the log. 

"Indeed?  I'm amazed that there are any left—pagans, that is, not dragons."

"Apparently there are.  Ah, where did this come from… ah.  Eire.  Of course.  Looks like the normal word-of-mouth exaggerations between credulous villagers and parish priests."

"My favorite is still the one about the pixie outbreak," the other man said slyly. 

"That was a good one.  Ah, provincials.  Every little thing, they have to write to us about."  He put the paper aside and made a note before moving on to the next bit of hysteria coming out of the northern episcopal sees.  If nothing else, the hysteria-tinged note had been good for a laugh. 

But this was Rome, and the holy duties of the offices of Diocese of Rome left little time for official amusement. 

###

As the Vedrarfjord ship sailed away, Fishlegs watched, his eyes narrowed, even as his heart pounded.  The former thrall that the foreign king had just tried to give him clung to him, watching the ships leave with wide eyes.  Her eyes were dry but ringed with red, like Astrid's had been when Hiccup hadn't woken up for that whole week after the battle. 

Fishlegs was trying to not look at her.  She wasn't his property.  People weren't property on Berk, which made them unusual by the standards of most Norse places; capturing thralls for work had been a major part of going a-Viking generations back. 

But Berk was different, again because the dragons.  You couldn't have people versus people here when it had all too often been people versus dragons.  One of the old chiefs had passed a law against it.  Well, technically, he had.  From what Fishlegs had heard, it had been more along the lines of shouting Anyone willing to pick up a blade against dragons tonight is a freeman or freewoman when the sun next rises! when half of the thanes of the village had been incapacitated on one bad raid night, and every single thrall had done so.  Since then, thralldom had been outlawed on Berk; a good percentage of the village were former thralls themselves who had managed to escape to Berk, and everyone else was descended from former thralls.

The girl was hugging his arm in a death-grip as she watched the ships that had brought her here sail away.  Fishlegs could feel the iron slave collar around her neck pressing against his arm, and did his best to suppress a shiver.  It was just a ring of cold iron around her neck, embellished with woven strips of plaited grass, but it marked her as property off of Berk, and Fishlegs couldn't imagine how that could feel.  Being someone's object, rather than a person themselves.  It was one thing to swear an oath and say that your life was someone else's.  But to not have a choice in the matter?  It made him shiver.  And now he could really understand why Stoick was so adamant on the topic of thralls, and of thralldom being evil.  He'd been told stories of what it was like—they all had, growing up, hearing from parents and grandparents and other relatives—but this was the first time he'd been in the middle of it.  And so he wasn't going to look at her like she was a prime piece of meat.  That wasn't how you treated people on Berk.  That wasn't how he was going to treat this girl.  So he kept watching the ship being unloaded, with the timbers being flown up to the village and the calves being herded up the ramp. 

Besides, it didn't matter if he looked at her or not, because the image of her was burned into his mind from when she got off the ship.  The youngest of the thralls, rubbing at her wrists from where they had been shackled for the journey, wearing a light gray woolen tunic, a pair of sheepskin boots and the collar, with long black hair and green eyes.  One of the sailors—the one that had tried to stab him three months ago, if Fishlegs could trust his memories—had pointed her to him.  She'd walked over while he'd been standing there, dumbstruck, wide-eyed and uncomprehending, the thieving captain's message stuck in his brain.  She'd said something to him that he couldn't remember just now, and had taken a place at his side. 

He'd still been standing there, stunned, with her next to him, when Gobber had walked by and snapped him out of it with an ungentle poke during the general chaos of the unloading, and whispered to keep quiet for a bit.  And then the older man had slapped the purse of coin that was apparently now his into his hands, and walked off to supervise the unloading. 

So he had kept quiet.

It hadn't been that hard.

Nope.

And then his chief had declared her to be a free woman, not property, making her gasp and clutch his arm and setting the purse of copper and silver to clink and jingle in his hands, and they had both watched as Stoick kicked the longboat away from the pier.

His chief watched as the Vedrarfjord ship sailed away and vanished behind the sea stacks, looking supremely satisfied even from behind, his hands on his hips and his shoulders set.  Fishlegs just stood there quietly, the girl holding on so tightly to his arms that he was starting to get that tingly sensation in his fingertips, his skin white around her hands.  She was taking deep, calming breaths that occasionally broke into panicked panting before she regained control.  He could feel the tension in her come and go in waves.

Fishlegs wondered what had happened to her, and how she'd been treated, and if it was anything like Stoick's mom's story. 

He hoped not, for her sake. 

Once the Eirish ship was gone from view into the sea mists, Stoick turned back and called to the assembled crowd.  "All right.  That's that."  He looked at the former thralls.  "Welcome to Berk.  You are free to stay, and have no obligations beyond that of any freeman if you choose to do so.  If you wish to leave, traders visit regularly these days and you can barter or buy passage off.  I won't judge you if you wish to do so.  But you are welcome here.  Do not doubt that." 

The newly freed thralls looked at him with varying degrees of astonishment, disbelief and fragile hope, including the young woman at Fishlegs' side.

"My name is Stoick the Vast, and I am chieftain here. Please.  Tell me your names.  Let us go to the mead hall and get you all fed."  He looked at his steward and Fishlegs.  "Gobber.  Fishlegs. I want those collars off and beds for them to sleep in before the sun sets."  With that ordered, Stoick turned back to the potential new members of the Hooligans, and beckoned them forward; the crowd of them all—thanes, chief, advisers, freed thralls and Fishlegs—began to walk up the pathway to the main village, as the new arrivals began to introduce themselves, one by hesitant one, to Stoick. 

With one exception.  The girl continued to clutch at Fishlegs's arm as they walked up the pathway, even when he made a quiet noise to her that she should go introduce herself.  She looked stunned, and more than a little frightened, and, come to think of it, Fishlegs wasn't even sure if she understood Norse.  As one of the other freed thralls, tear tracks down his cheeks, was being coaxed to open up to Stoick, Fishlegs screwed up his own courage and asked in as friendly a tone as he could, "Uh, so… hi.  I'm Fishlegs Hensteethsson clan Ingerman.  Um… so I know that this is a bit weird to ask… but what's your name?"

She was quiet for a long moment as they continued to walk up the ramp.  Fishlegs was just about ready to ask again in Eirish when she turned to look at him and a pained smile slowly spread on her face, but he could tell that it was forced.  "Heather.  My name is Heather mac—" and then she grimaced, and shook her head.  "Just Heather."

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A/N: *innocent whistling* ;)

EDIT 6/28/17: Had to make some edits after some belated back-and-forth with my beta reader; again, mostly grammatical and clarity bits; the only significant additions are in Fishlegs' scene at the end, and even then, it's just the occasional paragraph.  I hope to build back up my queued buffer from here.

[ideahood58-blog]

Catherine Lowe from ‘The Bachelor’ used to be a vegan food blogger

When Catherine Giudici saw Sean Lowe on Emily Maynard’s season of “The Bachelorette” via her TV, she was smitten. A year later, the Seattle native landed a spot on “The Bachelor” as a contestant competing for Sean’s heart. For her introduction, producers wanted her to ride in on a unicycle. Instead, she exited the limo, walked up to the man of her dreams and said, “Meet me inside for a dance” — something she now finds embarrassing considering nobody’s dancing in the California mansion.

10 Reasons Married People Live Longer

“My first impression of her was, she’s super cute and kind of giggly,” Sean told The Daily Meal during a recent press opportunity as part of an upcoming Subway promotion. “She had this energy about her where I knew I wanted to spend more time with her. I want to hang out with this girl. I don’t know much about her, but I want to hang out with her.”

The Lowes have been happily married for five years now, living in Dallas with their two sons, 2-year-old Samuel and 8-month-old Isaiah. While the baby’s primarily eating pasta (because it fills him up, which makes him sleep longer), Samuel has an appetite for whatever’s on the menu for Mom and Dad. Catherine commandeers the kitchen though, while Sean promises a trade-off of doing the dishes.

“I love to experiment with anything we have in our pantry or in our fridge,” Catherine said. “I’m always trying to think of, like, how to make it into something. So I always have to find a protein, a carb that goes with it and then a vegetable.”

Filipino, Italian and Thai foods made from scratch are just a few of her culinary specialties. Prior to her career as a graphic designer, the now 32-year-old worked in a Thai restaurant and blogged about vegan fare for the The Seattlite.

“Really any food is so exciting to me because the seasoning is so different for every cuisine and it just gets me so excited,” she said. “I love talking about food, I love making food and he [Sean] loves eating food.”

What he doesn’t love is picking up all the sticky rice Samuel spills on the floor, he says with a laugh. Every Saturday morning, the father-son duo have a sweet tradition of walking down the street to Top Pot for apple fritters and chocolate and blueberry cake doughnuts. Coincidentally, the bakery launched in Catherine’s hometown of Seattle before expanding to Dallas.

As far as date night goes, the couple enjoys going out for casual Tex-Mex or a nice dinner at a steakhouse. They both like their meat cooked medium-rare. Anything above that “is a sin,” Sean jokes. Ideally, the meal would end with a warm chocolate chip cookie baked in a skillet with ice cream on top.

When they’re just relaxing at home — watching murder documentaries or the Smithsonian Channel, depending on who has the remote — takeout options typically include pad thai or pizza.

“We’re so embarrassing with pizza,” Catherine says, to which Sean reveals, “We order Dominos a lot. I think Dominos is great. Their pan pizza is awesome.”

So what’s on top? For Catherine, it’s mushrooms and olives. Sean is aware his order is slightly controversial. The 35-year-old says, “A lot of people have a hard stance on pineapples, but I’ll do Hawaiian.”

Apart from risky pizza toppings and the fact that they met and fell in love on TV, the Lowes are refreshingly normal. He calls her Gaya (a nickname given by her family) and Mama, and she calls him Daddy — “in a sweet way, not a creepy way,” she insists, because of their kids. The only complaint Sean has about his wife is that if she tries on 10 shirts, instead of hanging them up, they’ll all go on the floor. Girl problems, right? And Sean’s bad habit is that he… uses too many Q-Tips?

“People tell me it’s bad, but I don’t care. I have to use a Q-Tip on my ears every time I get out of the shower. Every time,” he said. “Because I can kind of feel the water in there if I don’t. People always tell me how terrible Q-Tips are, but I love them.”

“How many people are you getting out of the shower with to tell you that Q-Tips are terrible?” Catherine asked, to which Sean replied, “I’ve had a few tweets about my love for Q-Tips and inevitably, people tell me they’re awful.”

Another bad habit, he adds, is that he just won’t let up with the super-cheesy dad jokes, “especially if I can tell it’s just starting to aggravate her. It’s a lot of puns. I think dads enjoy puns, but sometimes I think it just starts to get under her skin.”

Funny enough, Catherine’s familiar with pun usage, too. On Sean’s season of “The Bachelor,” she famously slipped him a note that said, “I’m vegan but I like the beef.” Now, she uses similar sayings on cards made by her stationary brand, Lowe Co.

Anyone who has ever been in a relationship knows that those aren’t real problems. But that doesn’t go without saying there weren’t challenges to overcome after stepping out from in front of the camera.

“She had to give up her life in Seattle, move away from friends, family, work,” Sean said. “Any time you meet in an unorthodox way and you’re kind of melding two lives together, it’s going to bring its own set of challenges, so in the beginning there was a learning curve.”

Piggybacking off of that, Catherine said that after moving from Seattle to Dallas, “you don’t know the people you’re hanging out with, you don’t have a lot of friends in your new city, so there are definitely a lot of factors that can bring about conflict in relationships. That’s why it’s so hard to keep a relationship from the show because you really don’t have anything going for you except your own love, and maybe that’s enhanced because of the circumstances. You’re thrust into this real-life situation and are like, ‘OK, figure it out,’ and you don’t have the assistance that hopefully you would’ve thought you might have. It’s really just about committing, and that’s why we’re together still — because we decided we would be together and that was just the end of it.”

In addition to being committed and overcoming the obstacles that come with great change, both Catherine and Sean are aware of and grateful for how loving and compassionate they are. Sean’s favorite quality about his wife is not her shiny hair, her pretty face or perfect lashes. It’s how big her heart is.

“When she cares about someone or something, she really cares about it on such a deep, intense level,” he said. “I don’t have that, personally. I would say most people, 99.99 percent, do not have the ability to love as deeply as she loves. So that’s a testament to her love, not a knock against me. It’s really, really impressive.”

Similarly, Catherine points to her husband as a genuinely caring person. When they were filming “The Bachelor” together, she took note of how Sean knew the entire production crew by name.

“He knew everybody’s names and was very respectful of them,” she said. “Knowing that’s how a person treats other people — it’s so sweet and it’s like, I look up to that in him. You see that in a partner and you’re like, ‘Wow, you’re a good person.’”

For anyone who’s thinking about sending in an application for an upcoming season of “The Bachelor” or “The Bachelorette,” Catherine says it’s important that it be a supplement to your life instead of banking everything you have on the opportunity.

“You can tell when people want to be famous and when they want all these perks from the show. They might get voted off the first night, then you’re going to be really humble after that,” she said. “So the way I thought of it is, I have a great life. This is just a really fun experience that I’m getting to have and to kind of think of it as a supplement and not as your only way of living.”

Sean’s advice? Just have fun.

“Back when we were on it [the show], Instagram wasn’t nearly as big of a thing as it is now. So people weren’t doing it to make money on Instagram ads after the show, so it’s probably a different beast now,” he said. “But it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You might be able to travel the world and do a lot of cool things you wouldn’t experience otherwise, so just have fun.”

If you are single, but the limelight (and potential drama) isn’t quite for you, don’t sweat it. Sean says to “be patient and try to enjoy the chapter of life that you’re in. Marriage is awesome and it’s fantastic and so rewarding and things like that, but being single has its advantages. I can look back on my 20s when I was single, and I spent a lot of time with friends and it’s just a different chapter and that chapter’s also fun. Don’t be in a hurry to rush to the next chapter. Enjoy the chapter you’re in.”

“Enjoy your family while you can and doing things on your own time, because now, you have to think about the other person, you have to think about your children, and of course that’s amazing, but go be selfish and go travel and experience life,” Catherine added. “It’s so much fun when you get to do things by yourself and have something a little more to bring into a relationship like more worldly experiences and a different outlook.”

To experience one of “The Bachelor” franchise’s most beloved couples in real life, fans can feel the love on February 14 when the pair will appear at Subway’s Ultimate Valentine’s Day Experience from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. at the Omni Hotel in Dallas, Texas. Tickets are currently sold out, but there’s an option to sign up for the wait list for free. The event serves to promote the chain’s Meatball Marinara and Ultimate Spicy Italian sandwiches on cheesy garlic bread.

After the event, the couple literally has no other plans to celebrate the commercial holiday. They just really love food, so the timing and nature of the partnership works. If you want to treat your sweetie to a nice dinner at a chain restaurant, give it all you’ve got with these 20 places offering dope V-Day Deals.

Source: https://www.thedailymeal.com/entertain/sean-catherine-lowe-subway/021219

[vitalmindandbody]

Tragic, fascinating, bright- living for’ wild child’ Zelda Fitzgerald revisited

Two films and a Tv series out soon portray the life of the jazz-age novelist and spouse of F Scott Fitzgerald

She is thought of as the original wild child, a pearl-twirling party daughter who died at the age of 47 after a shoot breaks out in the North Carolina sanatorium where she was a patient. Now Zelda Fitzgerald, the southern belle swerved jazz-age heroine, dubbed the first American flapper by her husband and partner-in-drink Scott, is to have her own Hollywood make-over two movies are in the pipeline and a television series will air on Amazon Prime early next year.

All three projections have starry refers attached: Jennifer Lawrence will take the lead in Zelda , a biopic directed by Ron Howard and based on Nancy Milfords best-selling profile; Scarlett Johansson will bob her “hairs-breadth” for The Beautiful and The Damned ; and Christina Ricci will play young persons and impulsive Zelda in the Amazon series Z: The Beginning of Everything. The entitle of the TV sequence comes from Scotts awestruck comment on session Zelda: I cherish her, and thats the beginning and end of everything.

So what is it about Zelda that mesmerizes nearly 70 years after her heartbreaking point? In place it is that the disturbances the couple lived through find an resemble in our own stormy times.

Interest in the Fitzgeralds has definitely been on the projected increase not only since Baz Luhrmanns film of The Great Gatsby in 2013 but too from the many parallels between their lives and effort and the period were living through right now, says Sarah Churchwell, generator of the critically acclaimed Careless People: Slaying, Mayhem and The Invention of the Great Gatsby .

Its a storey of thunder and failure and it resonates as we are grappling with our own boom and failure, our own worries about the cost of our excesses and our own social loss. Human life and fortunes of Scott and Zelda peculiarly mimicked their ages: in the 1920 s they were roaring for all they were worth, but with the disintegrate in 1929, everything fell apart.

It helps, extremely, that Zelda was so vibrant a flesh. It begins with her knockout, says Churchwell. But likewise with the tales told in the 1920 s about the high jinks and fun she and Scott seemed to have. Parties really liked her: she was surprising, smart, clever, entertaining and adoration a good defendant. She too liked to be the centre of attention, and so had her detractors very. These concepts combined to reach her a legend.

Scott repeatedly returned to their relationship in his fiction, most notably in his second tale, The Beautiful and Damned , which details the heady early days of their matrimony; and his doleful fourth, Tender Is The Night , in which the gilded fantasy has faded into a more tawdry world. Zeldas only novel, Save Me The Waltz , presented the relationship from her side.

They were arguably Americas first fame pairing: a carefree golden duo who wrote their method into the spotlight, making their own myth of gin-soaked days and fun-filled nights, merely to dawdle too long formerly the light-footed had started to dim. Their recklessness represents the tale exciting and dramatic, says Churchwell. But they paid a the highest price.

After a few giddy years, all the youthful hope deteriorated away, leaving Scott a stupefied and drunk jobbing hack in Hollywood and introducing Zelda to breakdown at the age of 30, a diagnosis of schizophrenia , now widely thought to be a bipolar affective disorder, and their own lives in and out of sanatoriums.

Her story is both fascinating and lamentables, says Therese Anne Fowler, on whose novel Z the Amazon series is based. Here we have a woman whose aptitudes and energy and intellect “shouldve been” prepared her a brilliant success, who was determined to be an fulfilled master, scribe and ballet dancer in an era where married girls were supposed to be spouses and moms, interval. Her devotion to Scott was, in many ways, her undoing[ although] he was just as imprisoned as she was. Had they adoration each other less, they are likely both have come to better ends.

The idea of Zelda as a bright lady captured by her duration has gained traction in recent years, with a number of projects re-evaluating her through the prism of feminism although it is not always the most wonderful of fits. As early as 1974, the couples daughter Scottie resisted such pretensions, writing the purpose of which is to viewpoint her father as a classic put-down wife, whose efforts to express her quality were thwarted by a commonly male chauvinist pig partner were not accurate.

Writing in the New Yorker in 2013, Molly Fischer agreed , note: Saving Zelda Fitzgerald is no easy overture …[ she] does not want to be anyones pet, and theres something disconcerting about the literary readiness to domesticate her, to change an infuriating wife into an appealing heroine.

The brand-new cinemas may well further Hollywoodise Zelda, sanding away her bumpy borders and reinventing her as a relatable protagonist for our modern times. The casting of Lawrence so often described as Americas Sweetheart in the Howard biopic is no accident.

A report about the upcoming Johansson film in the Hollywood Reporter proposed it would draw on previously unreleased material to indicate that her husband embezzled his wifes notions as his own.

Mark Gill, chairwoman of Millennium Films, the yield company behind The Beautiful and The Damned , concurs : She was massively ahead of her period and she took a lash for it. He stole her ideas and employed them in his notebooks. The marriage was a codependency from blaze with a jazz-age soundtrack. The movie has, however, fastened the co-operation of the Fitzgerald estate.

Fowler agrees that there is a flourishing bent to pertain our own concerns to Zelda. We do anoint her as a kind of proto-feminist protagonist, even though she didnt investigate herself as a feminist and didnt fully succeed at anything, she says. But her original honour is based on conventional paternalistic the terms and conditions of what the status of women, mother and spouse ought to be and do. Her aspirations and her demand on prosecuting them were considered inappropriate and undesirable; after her psychopathic disintegrate she was literally told that this insistence had created her split psyche and that the path to a panacea lay in giving up all passions that didnt conform to the paternalistic ideal.

Scarlett Johansson, Jennifer Lawrence and Christina Ricci are all set to play Zelda Fitzgerald in the forthcoming makes The Beautiful and the Damned, Zelda and Z: The Beginning of Everything. Composite: Getty Images

The backlash against this image is comprehensible given that popular opinion of Zelda was initially driven by Ernest Hemingways notoriously corrosive descriptions in A Moveable Feast , publicized posthumously in 1964, in which he dismissed her as insane and accused Scotts changing dependence on alcohol on his wife.

Our perception has very much changed, says Churchwell. We have come to sympathise with her resentment, to recognise her knacks and to be more fair-minded about her choices. That said, she precautions against attempts to create a Team Scott/ Team Zelda fraction, as is so often the lawsuit in famed literary partnerships. Its important to say that they ever cherished one another and wouldnt have appreciated beings taking backs Fitzgerald wrote a few years before he was dead that it was a moral imperative that their friends understood they were a pair, a section and would remain that space, even if her illness aim they couldnt live together.

Churchwell is too scathing about attempts to suggest Zelda had a larger role in her husbands cultivate than previously presumed. There are those wanting to ascribe Zelda with Scotts work, which is just silly and doesnt do wives any promotions, she says. Its not a zero-sum recreation: we can recognise both of them for who they were.

Zelda had numerous abilities, but where writing was concerned she was probably too ill when she started to hone her knacks, and while it is true that Scott didnt particularly want her to write partly out of territoriality but partly because her doctors told him it was bad for her its too true-blue that her work isnt in the same class as his. Her individual convicts are often lovely, and she can create a climate and has clever alters of phrase but her works tend to be sketches rather than full tales. If they had realized different alternatives, perhaps she could have been an important writer, but the reality is that she wasnt.

Perhaps, then, the true key to Zeldas prolonged pull on our imagination lies not in her wreak but in her modernity. I dont live their lives I want to cherish firstly and live incidentally, she exclaimed and it is that vigor and gluttony for all of lifes suffers, both both good and bad, that extends down over the decades, giving each generation to see something new.

Z: The Beginning of Everything will air on Amazon Prime early next year

THEY SAID

I have rarely known the status of women who carried herself so delightfully and freshly: she had no ready-made terms on the one mitt and no striving for impression on the other. Critic Edmund Wilson

I fell in love with her gallantry, her seriousnes and her flaming self-respect, and its these events I would believe in even if the whole world gratified in wild surmises that she wasnt all that she should be.

F Scott Fitzgerald

I did not have a single impression of inferiority, or shyness, or suspense, and no moral principles.

All I miss is to be very young ever and very irresponsible, and to feel that my life is my own to live and be happy and croak in my own lane to delight myself.

Other publics ideas of us are dependent largely on what theyve hoped for.

Read more: www.theguardian.com

The post Tragic, fascinating, bright- living for’ wild child’ Zelda Fitzgerald revisited appeared first on vitalmindandbody.com.

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[aaronmaurer]

Movies I Liked in 2016

Every year I reflect on the pop culture I enjoyed and put it in some sort of order.

It’s been hard for me to celebrate 2016, with lows both personal and cultural carrying weight much greater than the highs. My quasi-traditional end-of-year recap/Christmas email didn’t get written this year, and I’ve been tempted to do likewise with the year’s films and music. While there were many worthwhile movies on scales large and small, none leapt out at me as new classics; maybe this has more to do with my mood than the quality of the films themselves. I honestly don’t have enough enthusiasm to name any individual film my overall favorite of the year – which isn’t to say the following 10 picks aren’t worth your time! In fact, my self-imposed numerical limit finds me leaving many other good choices behind (Moonlight, Sing Street, Fantastic Beasts & Where to Find Them, Fences, Hell or High Water, 13th). Here then, unranked this year, are my favorites of 2016:

Arrival

A meditative and heartfelt exploration of the vitality of communication, fate and love wrapped in the guise of a science-fiction film, Arrival cuts deep with atmosphere to spare. Smart, haunting, beautiful and thought-provoking. Plus, aliens.

Captain America: Civil War and Doctor Strange

In a year in which DC’s film franchise remained mired in grim self-importance (BvS:DoJ, Suicide Squad), Marvel delivered an exciting, compelling and relevant one-two punch. As much an Avengers movie as a Cap solo outing, Civil War successfully brings 10+ films of character development to a head while effectively integrating newbies to the universe. It also achieved what I thought impossible: getting me excited for a new Spider-Man after the unfortunate Andrew Garfield movies. Doctor Strange, meanwhile, introduces sorcery and spirituality into the MCU with strong storytelling and innovative effects work that deserves all the Oscars. Where Tony Stark’s redemption arc in Iron Man stays self-focused on atoning for his past sins, Stephen Strange’s becomes grander – transcending his ego to serve a greater good.

  Hail, Caesar!

While comedic Coen Brothers films tend to receive less acclaim than their more dramatic work, I often find them to be just as memorable and even more rewatchable. A farce of high order, Hail, Caesar! features an immanently entertaining cast paying tribute to Hollywood’s Golden Age while exploring deeper themes of faith and meaning with winking humor.

  Hidden Figures

Space travel and NASA have always captivated me, and this dramatization of the struggles and triumphs of black female mathematicians working on the Mercury program is a definite winner. More along the polished and crowd-pleasing lines of Apollo 13 than the more idiosyncratic The Right Stuff (both of which I enjoy), Hidden Figures is nonetheless moving and inspiring. The central performances by Taraji P. Henson, Octavia Spencer and Janelle Monae are fantastic, and the story is a testament to what human ingenuity can achieve, even in the face of multiple forms of great adversity.

  La La Land

Damien Chazelle’s follow-up to Whiplash is a refreshingly ambitious and lively movie musical. Set in a heightened version of contemporary Hollywood where people clad in vivid colors literally burst into song and dance on the streets, the film explores the relationship between two “dreamers:” Emma Stone’s wannabe actress and Ryan Gosling’s wannabe jazzman. Like Once – and others – before it, the film becomes a statement about the profound impact and creative inspiration others can have on our lives.

  Loving and Midnight Special

Director Jeff Nichols (Take Shelter, Mud) delivered two films this year that are as different as they are compelling – which is to say, very. Loving tells the true story of Richard and Mildred Loving, a Virginia couple who challenged the state’s anti-miscegenation laws, resulting in a Supreme Court ruling on interracial marriage. Lacking the emotional manipulation or melodrama that “based on a true story” narratives often traffic in, the film is understated and affecting in a way that resonates with truth. By contrast, Midnight Special is an indie science fiction allegory about a boy with supernatural powers being hunted by both the government and a religious cult. His father is caught in the tension between his desire to protect his son and allowing him to follow his own path, which rings just as emotionally genuine.

  The Nice Guys

The latest from writer/director Shane Black (Kiss Kiss Bang Bang) finds a pair of low-rent PIs played by Russell Crowe and Ryan Gosling getting drawn into a reluctant partnership over a case that reveals itself to bigger than they expect (aren’t they all?). Gleefully profane and featuring unexpectedly great comic performances from the leads, the movie is neo-noir at its most entertaining.

  Queen of Katwe

On another note entirely, Queen of Katwe is a true story about a chess prodigy from the slums of Uganda that fully realizes and respects its setting and characters. How refreshing to see the beauty and challenges of African life depicted on screen with nary a white savior figure to be found. This layered and uplifting treasure courtesy of director Mira Nair (Monsoon Wedding) and Disney, of all studios, is worth seeking out.