#auspicious for t

[banglakhobor]

১৯ বছর পরে বিশাল সংযোগ! এই ৪ রাশির হাতে হু হু করে আসবে টাকা

কাশীর জ্যোতিষাচার্য চক্রপাণি ভট্ট জানান যে, মলমাস অমাবস্যার দিনে কোন কোন রাশির জাতকরা লাভবান হতে পারেন। ১৬ অগাস্ট, বুধবার আধিক মাস অমাবস্যা। ১৯ বছর পর, আধিক মাস অমাবস্যায় একটি শুভ ঘটনা ঘটেছে। Source link

[homicidalbrunette]

It's giving I'm Baby/yes you sure are energy

[morrigan-sims]

My 2am brain got the idea to attempt to make a mesh edit and create Rook's rapier, which is FAR beyond my current skill level for meshing (which is zero), but I'm getting desperate here. We shall see if my awake at normal hours brain tomorrow is determined enough to attempt to follow through on it. I know it's not gonna work the way I want it to, but if nothing else maybe I can learn something from the failure???

[deus-ex-mona]

i miss her…

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

Summary: You are baking a cake for Bucky's birthday, but he is far more interested in the icing.

Word Count: 1,454

Warnings: nsfw, smut, oral sex (female receiving), slightly dom Bucky

“I’m not sure that you need to go through all this effort for me.”

“Of course you’re worth the effort, babe! Plus I promised everyone that they would get their favorite cakes, so now I have to deliver.”

“So essentially this isn’t for me, it’s for everyone else.” Bucky’s destructive thoughts getting the better of him, even on this auspicious day.

You put down all your baking equipment and turned to face your boyfriend, hands on your hips. “Now you listen to me, this party is to celebrate your presence on this Earth. I could not be more grateful for that. And if it means making cake to make everyone happy, I will do just that. Understood?”

Bucky nodded meekly, smiling.

The oven timer pinged letting you know that the cakes you’d baked were ready. It had been the aroma of said cakes that had attracted Bucky to the kitchen in the first place. You pulled out the fresh batch of cupcakes; they looked perfect. You were glad you’d hung out with your sister when she baked. She was a chef and made the most wonderful desserts. Bucky reached out to pick up one of the cupcakes, but you swatted his hand away.

“Not yet, you’ll ruin your appetite. Lunch first, cake is for the party. Plus you snack entirely too much and neglect your vegetables terribly.”

Bucky pouted. Why did he look so adorable when he did that? You weren’t sure if he knew how you felt about his pout, but he most certainly took advantage of that fact. You resisted his attempts at sympathy, with difficulty. Getting to work, you found the icing covering not only the cakes, but your fingers and for some reason, your face. Bucky watched you make a mess all over the kitchen counter, a mess you knew he wouldn’t help clean up. After a good half hour of creative icing and uttering a variety of profanities, you dropped two little sweets into the last cupcake.

“The sweets are meant to represent eyes,” you informed Bucky, admiring the little faces on each individual cupcake.

“I see,” was all he had to say.

“Buck, remind me never to offer to make a cake for anyone ever again.”

“I wish I were the kind of person who could stop myself from saying ‘I told you so,’ but I’m not. I told you it was a bad idea.”

If looks could kill, Bucky wouldn’t stand a chance in hell.

“Any chance you’ll help me clean this up?” You nodded at the clutter, hands held out in front of me, like a surgeon who had just scrubbed up.

“Of course,” Bucky said.

You were surprised by his answer, that is until you saw the smirk on his face. Bucky took your hand and placed your thumb in his mouth, sucking the icing clean off your skin. He worked his way across one hand, taking your whole finger into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your digits, sucking at the tips, the whole time looking directly into your eyes. Your breathing was heavy, panties already soaked with anticipation. Bucky leaned towards your face and you looked up in response, expecting a kiss. As he got closer, rather than aiming for your lips, Bucky licked your chin. You hadn’t even noticed that there had been icing there! He kissed you, hard, tongue in your mouth, you could taste the icing on his.

“Easy there, cream puff,” you said as Bucky pressed against you again. “You’re going to ruin the cupcakes!”

“The cupcakes are fine!” Bucky peered around you to check. In the process he noticed the tube of icing, which he grabbed excitedly.

“You’re not going to eat directly from that are you?”

“No, that wasn’t my intention. But my birthday, my choice!” Bucky quirked an eyebrow and looked you up and down. Your eyes widened as you realized what he wanted.

“Really?” you asked.

Bucky nodded and motioned you over to the couch where he stripped you of your clothes. It didn’t take long, you were only wearing shorts and one of his old t-shirts.

“Lie down.” It wasn’t a question, it was a command, a command you obeyed instantly.

Bucky climbed on top of you, straddling your hips. You noticed that his bulge was much more prominent than normal. He still had the tube of icing in his hand.

“Open your mouth,” he said.

You did.

Bucky squirted some icing onto your tongue, it tasted divine. Closing your eyes, you moaned, your chest rose as you took a deep breath.Bucky cupped one of your breasts and using the tube, drew a spiral of icing around your nipple. He moved over to the other side and did the same. You watched his eyes as he worked, they had a hungry, excited look which made you tingle. Bucky shuffled down your body until he was sitting between your legs. He disposed of his shirt and pants, leaving only his boxers and the clear signs of his arousal.

He leaned over your naked form and slowly licked the icing from you with the broad flat of his tongue. The sensation was almost explosive, even more so now that he had started to grind his hips against yours. You were starting to feel a little desperate for some skin contact. You ran your fingers through Bucky’s hair and tugged at it gently as he sucked on your other nipple.

“Bucky, is that all you’re going to be eating today?” you asked, breathily.

Bucky looked up at you and smiled wickedly, “not at all, Doll.” And with that he moved further down the couch, taking your legs in his hands and pushing them apart. He took one quick glance at your face before plunging his tongue between your folds and caressed your clit.

You cried out in pleasure, “Oh God, Bucky.”

“Doll, you taste better than the icing.”

All you could manage was a moan in response. Bucky laughed again and climbed up to your face, his whole body weight pressed against you.

“You’re not done already are you?” you asked.

“No, that was just the appetizer. I’m here for the three course meal.”

“Well you’ve certainly wet my appetite. Now get off me, I want a taste too.”

Bucky got up and pulled you to your feet. You stood face to face while you ran your fingers all over his body, placing kisses in places you knew got him excited.

“Do you want to try some of the icing?” Bucky asked as you pulled down his boxers.

“I prefer salty over sweet.” you replied, stroking him. “Why don’t we have the main course in the bedroom?”

Bucky took your hand and led the way. He lay down on the bed and you quickly brought him to his full potential with some well placed kisses and caresses. Before either of you knew what was happening, he was inside you, pushing gently at first, allowing you to adjust to his size. It wasn’t really necessary, you were ready.

“Hurry up Buck, I’m so ready for dessert.”

He was more than happy to oblige. Your hips clashed together as he pushed into you hungrily. Your hands seemed to be everywhere, greedily stealing every delicious sensation.

Suddenly Bucky slowed down. “You ready?”

His question confused you at first, but then you felt him throbbing inside you and realized that he was almost finished. You loved that about Bucky, he was always willing to wait for you, he wanted you to finish together. You shook my head. You were close, but you needed a little more stimulation. You reached down to help yourself, but Bucky got there first.

“Just tell me when, okay?” he said.

You nodded. It didn’t take much long after that, after a minute you were screaming at him that you were on the edge. He started pounding into you furiously. You clenched around him, waves of pleasure crashing through your body. Bucky threw his head back and swore as he emptied his load into you, ecstasy pumping through him with his orgasm. Bucky collapsed beside you, both of you breathing heavily. You lay together in silence trying to catch your breath, savoring the remnants of the bliss you’d brought each other.

Bucky spoke up first. “So you ready for dessert?”

You looked at him incredulously. “It’s your birthday, not mine!”

“I could really do with some cake.” Bucky wiggled his eyebrows.

“Fuck, the cakes!” You’d forgotten to put them in the fridge. You practically fell off the bed as you rushed into the kitchen to make sure your hard work had not been a waste of time. You heard Bucky’s low rumbling laughter float after you.

[rebelfell]

The Third Date

Eddie Munson x Anorgasmic!Reader

When you move back to Hawkins after graduating college, you find yourself reconnecting with an old friend in a new way. Your first two dates with Eddie Munson are everything you’d ever dreamed, but the next one has you unraveling.

Part One│Part Two

cw: childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, deceased parent, mentions of poor sexual experiences, some drinking, sexual anxiety, making out, fingering, panic attack, eddie being sweet and reassuring, fluffy ending.

I was kinda in my feelings and needed Eddie to tell me all the right things. Sue me.

18+, MDNI 7k

You used to like this mirror.

It was vintage. Full length with an ornate gold frame, swirling embellishments on the top and sides. Not to mention it was a fucking steal at $10 from an estate sale. You’d liked it enough to make it one of the scant number of things you hauled all the way back to Hawkins when you moved out of your shoebox apartment in the city.

Right now, though? You kind of hated it. 

Usually, standing before it made you feel stately and elegant, even if all you had on was ratty denim shorts and a threadbare t-shirt riddled with holes and bleach stains. Yet here you were in one of your favorite outfits, hair meticulously styled, face glowing and dewy after spending an hour on it, and all you felt was ridiculous.

Not the mirror’s fault, technically. But it was the messenger. It told you at every twist of your hips, at every outfit change, at every pluck and tug of your clothes, that you were never going to look right—that you were never going to feel right. And it mocked every failed attempt to do so.

You inhale, breath shallow and shaky as you try yet again to calm down. It’s just a date, you tried to remind yourself. It’s just a date and he’s just a guy. There’s nothing to be worried about. 

Except it wasn’t just a date.

It was the auspicious Third Date.

And it certainly wasn’t just a guy…it was Eddie.

This was something you’d been waiting for forever. For longer than forever. For longer than you could count. Eddie Munson was your oldest and dearest friend. Growing up, you were like each other’s second heads—facing the worst of what small minds in a small town in Indiana cooked up. You stood, middle fingers brandished like swords, dreaming of a wider world.

It felt strange to think this would only be your third date when you’d basically been dating since you were thirteen. You went to movies together, wasted weekday afternoons at the record store, lounged on the gravelly bank of Lover’s Lake reading well-worn paperbacks—Two Towers for him, Dorothy Parker for you. He begged you to sit in on Hellfire when he started the club your junior year and only had three members, himself included. He’d sneak you into the dive bar where his band played Tuesday nights, and you would immediately stick out among the five drunks who assembled every week. But as long as all you ordered was ginger ale and swore up and down you weren’t a cop, the bartender let you sit there all night to watch him.

Nights never ended the way “real” dates did. No hands being held as he walked you from his van to your doorstep; no kisses under flickering porch lights scored by a cricket symphony.

He never touched you too much, always quick to withdraw his hands when they lingered on your hip or back or arm. That would change, though, if he smoked or drank a bit and his cuddly side came out. Secretly, you longed for these times. You reveled in having his chin rest on your shoulder or his arms wind around your waist to hold you close. It never felt gross or crossed the line into groping like with other, lesser, guys looking for something to fondle. With Eddie, it felt more like he was showing you how he wished he could be all the time.

At least that’s what you let yourself imagine. 

He always apologized the following day, just short of castrating himself over it. It made you want to slap him. Slap him and then kiss him and slap him again. How could he not get it? How could he not see how goddamn in love with him you were? How could he not feel the same way? You waved him off, assuring him he hadn’t done anything wrong. All the while thinking, you fucking idiot, and not even knowing if you were referring to him or yourself.

Then came graduation. Or rather, your graduation and his sullen admission he wasn't eligible, which lead to the longest, most difficult conversation of your lives so far. It wasn’t even a conversation so much as it was you swinging wildly between reactions—scolding him for not telling you sooner; grasping at the straws of extra credit assignments your teachers would never assign; volunteering to stand guard while he broke into the administration office.

Eventually, though, you had to face the reality of losing him and it left a prominent break in your heart. Your acceptance letter to a school in Indianapolis that used to make you feel weightless, like you could finally fly out of here, now felt more like chains dragging you away.

You had half a mind to take him with you. You must have rehearsed the speech you wanted to make something like fifty times. Screw Hawkins, you’d say. Screw their closed minds and their disdain for anything even a little different. He could get his GED—you’d help him, happily. He could find work in the city and take community college classes or go to trade school. The two of you could live together and watch slasher movies every Friday night, falling asleep on his chest when you got tired just as you’d done all throughout high-school.

Of course those thoughts inevitably spiraled into what would happen once he started dating. A bigger city meant a bigger pool of people, all with the potential to realize the kind, sweet, caring boy who was bursting with passion for his fantasy games and music and his other rich interests was actually a massive catch and not a social pariah. In no time, it would be someone else falling asleep on his chest and you watching them be carried to his bed.

You couldn’t bear the thought of that. Maybe even moreso, you couldn't bear the thought of asking him to come with you and him saying “no.”

So, you went alone. You packed up your car with the barest necessities, you kissed your dad goodbye and said you’d see him at Christmas. But it was Eddie who saw you off, taking you into his arms and holding you there with your head tucked under his chin. You buried your face in his chest, tears leaking onto the patches you’d helped him sew on his denim vest. He told you how proud he was and how much he was gonna miss you. He said to write. To send pictures.

All you could do was sniffle.

At college, you tried expanding your horizons. You joined a couple clubs to make new friends and started going to parties. You met people like Carl. And even though he was handsome and seemed nice enough, you turned him down when he asked you to dinner. It wasn’t until much later, when your roommate scolded you for doing so, that you even felt some doubt about it. What was even the point when you knew he wasn’t what you wanted?

Except what you wanted might never be yours.

That first trip home to Hawkins was wildly unnerving. You knew it hadn’t actually been that long since you left. But why did it feel so strange that everything felt exactly the same? Had you really changed so much already that your home no longer felt like home? 

Even seeing Eddie again felt like rupturing old wounds you thought had successfully scabbed over. You withdrew from him without even realizing you were doing it. He knew something was wrong, but didn’t dare voice it. His greatest fear loomed: you were done with Hawkins. 

Done with him.

It took a while to strike the balance between the old and the new. You’d run away so fast and tried to overwrite everything in your life, returning to Hawkins felt like entering a fantasy world. And Eddie became like an apparition, a specter of everything you missed most. 

You started writing to him more, sharing stories about your classes, gossip in the dorms, drunk adventures in the city. And he wrote back, telling you all about the new members of Hellfire who also happened to play instruments and were eager to replace the members of Corroded Coffin who had graduated and moved away. Eventually, the letters became more like a diary. 

You could confess things you’d never imagined telling anyone—stuff about your mom and how you’d spent every day wondering if she’d be proud of you; how you worried about your dad and wondered if he would ever get over her; how you feared you might never find love like theirs and even if you did, how it might be taken away from you like it was from them.

And he confessed back to you. Amidst his ideas for new D&D campaigns and song lyrics, he gave you deeper insight on things you knew already—his father’s sordid criminal history and his mother’s inability to cope, which led to her dropping Eddie on his uncle’s doorstep at the ripe old age of eleven. Reading about Hawkins through his eyes made it feel more real and less like a dream you’d woken up from. It kept that connection open, a bridge between your worlds, so  you could experience college and all the new things it had to offer, but still felt connected.

Then the end of your sophomore year brought more bad news. 

Again, he wasn’t eligible. Again, he wasn’t graduating.

You’d not been able to let go of that fantasy of him joining you at school. Every time you walked across the quad, leaves crunching beneath your boots, sunlight dying as it dipped behind the old brick buildings and cast everything in a hazy golden autumn glow, you imagined a pair of clean, white sneakers next to yours and a ringed hand squeezing your fingers.

He promised you this was his year. Swore it, in fact. ‘86, baby! he’d scrawled big and messy under his signature at the end of one of his letters. And maybe it would. He said he was doing better—army crawling his way towards a D in Mrs. O'Donnell's class, already planning how he would snatch his diploma and flip the bird at the principal as he walked the stage.

He was certain enough it made you start to believe it too.

You never dared to broach the subject of what he wanted to do after graduation. He hadn’t mentioned applying to any colleges or looking for work. The rest of the band was graduating with him. Maybe they’d all move here to get more exposure. Maybe they wanted to record a demo they could pass out to record companies. Or maybe Eddie wanted to go solo.

The lack of information made you antsy. Was he being decidedly cagey about his plans? Was he hiding something? Or was he just afraid of disappointing you again?

It was nearing the end of the school year when you finally broke. You had to see him.

For once, your spring breaks were going to overlap. You blew off your classes on Friday to make the drive and managed to get to Hawkins High just as the final bell was ringing. His van still sat in the parking lot and you pulled in alongside it to wait, practically jumping out of your skin with excitement. Thirty whole minutes crawled by before you finally spotted him.

He emerged from the woods at the back of the practice sport fields, chattering with ease to maybe the last person on earth you would have expected to see.

Chrissy Cunningham was just as pretty as she’d always been. She was a couple years behind you and Eddie in school, but everyone knew of her from the moment she made the varsity cheer squad as a freshman—a staggering feat no one else had ever managed. She still had the same bouncy ponytail, the same enormous eyes and cherubic cheeks you imagined must ache at the end of each day from her constant smiling. And she was somehow smiling even wider than normal at whatever Eddie was saying as he grinned back at her.

It made your stomach churn thinking what they could have been doing to have her smiling like that. You knew he’d started dealing for Reefer Rick to earn extra money, but in what universe would the queen of Hawkins High be struck with the urge to buy a bag of skunky weed? 

Unless it wasn’t weed she was after at all.

Panic doused your body. You jammed your key back in the ignition and sped out of the lot, praying he didn’t see you. You drove straight back to school, tears streaming down your face for the entire journey, making you hate yourself more with every salty trail that stained your cheeks. Because what else did you expect? For him to pine for you like you did for him? For him to be like you and not date anyone, ever? To keep everyone who even attempted to get close at a distance? Reserving a space in your heart for someone who might not even want to fill it?

You loved him more now than you ever had. Even without seeing him every day, even without having him constantly at your side. If anything, it had gotten worse. Your feelings piled up within you just as his letters did in your room. They all lived in a box under your shitty dorm bed to be pulled out over and over and over so you could parse every line for hidden meaning. Crying at his words, so heartfelt and honest you didn’t even notice the grammatical and spelling errors.

By the time you got back to campus, you felt raw and spent. Your face was streaked with tears and you were breathless from crying. For days, you walked around campus like a ghost until you bumped into Carl, the only other soul not off on some debaucherous Spring Break trip. And when he asked you for seemingly the hundredth time if he could buy you dinner…you said yes.

It came in the mail a few months later. Your address scribbled messily on an invitation to the Hawkins High Class of 1986 graduation. Eddie had included a photocopy of his final grades and written “proof it’s not a clerical error” with a little smiley face in the corner.

You called him that night to tell him how proud of him you were. And you were proud of him. So unbelievably proud. But when he asked if you were coming, you lied. You said your boyfriend’s parents would be in town and that he wanted you to meet them. You told him how sorry you were, all the while thinking Chrissy could congratulate him enough for the both of you. 

And in spite of yourself…you let yourself pretend you heard a little dejection in his voice when you used the word “boyfriend”—fictitious as it was.

The truth was, you’d only been officially dating Carl for a couple weeks. And he was perfectly nice. He’d kissed you and it felt fine. It didn’t quite live up to what you believed it should feel like, but maybe that was a good thing. Maybe what you imagined wasn’t realistic. Maybe what you thought it should be wasn’t feasible.

Maybe you just had to let that go.

And dating Carl was simple and uncomplicated. It served a purpose. It made you feel at least like you weren’t languishing in a wasteland of your unrequited feelings. It made you feel like you were trying. Sure, the sex wasn’t great. But you hardly expected it to be good for you. 

You’d hooked up with the odd guy here and there over the years. It was a pattern that began with some guy you met downtown whose assignment was to keep you occupied while his friend put the moves on your roommate. You were a little drunk and a lot lonely, so you’d gone along with it. It was quick. A little uncomfortable. It certainly didn’t make you eager to repeat the experience. But at least you could say you’d done it.

Part of you thought maybe it would get better, but it never did. 

Even guys you thought were decent at first were quick to gloss over the preamble and lead up, jumping straight to stuffing themselves inside you with no regard to your winces of discomfort. It didn’t take long before you started to assume you had to be the problem. Even by yourself, it took you ages to reach any sort of precipice. And even when you did, even when you felt your heart rate rising and your body heaving in response, the pay-off was…underwhelming.

With Carl, you thought it could be different. Maybe you needed a deeper connection; maybe you needed a few times to get comfortable with someone to properly ascend that peak. But the more you did it with him, the less attainable that seemed. Maybe you were just broken. 

You also tried not to dwell on the fact that the only times you ever got close were when you pictured a different face hovering over yours; when you imagined your fingers twisted up in dark, shaggy curls; when you visualized pale skin littered with tattoos and sinewy arms caging you in; when you lit that one candle you only bought because it reminded you of Eddie’s cologne.

The decision to move back home turned out to be less a decision and more a necessity.

A whole year out of school and you’d had truly terrible luck finding a job—at least a decent one that actually wanted to pay you. Carl, ever the charmer, wondered why you even wanted to work when you’d just wind up quitting when you got married. Really, you appreciated it. It was exactly the kind of comment you needed to jolt you out of a relationship that had been on autopilot.

You were a mess. Lost. Aimless. Barely treading water. Wishing you could call the one person you knew would cheer you up, but unsure if it would only result in more heartache. In the blink of an eye, it had been over five years since you left home and it was starting to feel like your only accomplishments were breaking up with your boyfriend and buying a mirror.

Then came the call from your dad.

He’d taken a nasty fall at his hardware store. He was fine, for the most part. But he was now significantly weaker and would have to have surgery as well as physical therapy after. And he certainly couldn’t run his store anymore. It had never run particularly smoothly to begin with and his books left something to be desired—another thing you’d be helping with once you moved back. He never outright asked you to do so, but he also didn’t have to.

The only good news was the bad news: a massive fire that disintegrated Starcourt Mall had led to an influx of renovations to the downtown area. In the wake of the mall’s destruction came a resurgence in small businesses that breathed life back into the desolation the mall caused.

It was in this newly resurrected downtown where Eddie was making his mark. He had opened a hobby shop where he still hosted his weekly D&D games with a lot of the kids who had originally been in his club. His store became like a beacon for all the kids (and even some of the adults) in Hawkins who felt there was no place for them. Eddie gave them somewhere to belong and celebrated all the things that made them targets of ridicule to everyone else.

It was also your first stop on your first day back.

The whole shop was so Eddie. As you walked inside and took in the decor, it seemed entirely possible he had just moved everything from his bedroom at Wayne’s right in here. He’d even rigged the entrance with a speaker that played the guitar riff of “Enter Sandman” when someone came through the door. 

You wished you could bottle the moment he came out front, your arrival signaled by the song.

“Holy shit…”

The box of miniatures and figurines he’d just finished pricing in the back fell to the floor with a thump and a rattle of plastic parts. He barely registered it, though. With round, unblinking eyes he stared, too stunned to move a muscle until a smile cracked his face wide open.

In just three long strides he crossed the store and swept you into his arms, lifting you up and whirling you around. “You’re here!” he gushed, arms crushing you around the middle in the most exquisite pain. “You’re really here!”

“I told you I was moving back!” 

You laughed heartily in his ear as he placed you back on the ground, telling yourself it must have been the unexpected lift making you breathless and not how the sunlight coming through the windows hit his eyes and made them shine like molten honey. He kept you close, letting his hands rest on your arms and squeezing them like he had to be sure you weren’t a mirage.

“I thought it was one of those ‘too good to be true’ things,” he said sheepishly, a pink blush creeping across his cheeks. “Had to see it to believe it.”

“Well, believe it,” you sighed.

You were already prepared for the loss of his touch, for when he would shamefully retract his hands, but he never did. He held you comfortably, his thumb lightly brushing over your skin. He let you go reluctantly, not regretfully, letting his fingertips trail softly down your arm.

“It’s so good to see you,” he said, his voice coated in warmth. “I missed you so much.”

You nodded, your throat pinched as you tried not to cry. “I…I missed you too.”

Eddie’s smile grew even bigger, his eyes seeming to dance with excitement. “Well, we have to celebrate,” he said. “I close up shop at six. Meet me back here and we’ll go to the Hideout?”

You stalled, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you considered. Almost on instinct, you’d nearly agreed right away. Old habits and what not. But did you want to fall immediately back into your old patterns? Hawkins had changed so little since you left, it felt too easy to slip back into the trap. Could you really go right back to hopelessly pining for him as you’d done so long?

“Come on,” Eddie urged, flashing those doe eyes he knew you couldn’t resist. “It’s one drink.”

“Okay, okay!” you laughed. “One drink.”

One drink turned out to be three. Starting with your first legal drink together at his old haunt while a different band of hopeful kids fumbled their way through clumsy Metallica covers.

“Please tell me we were never that young,” Eddie sighed, taking a swig of his beer.

“You’ve never been young,” you teased. “You came out of the womb a crotchety old man.”

A little later, you absconded to the corner booth and tucked yourselves away from the rowdiness of the growing crowd. You were flushed from the alcohol buzzing in your bloodstream and from how close Eddie was sitting. It felt just like old times, except it was nothing like old times.

Because this time, he was flirting with you. And not being subtle.

You thought maybe you were imagining it at first, but it only became more obvious the longer the night wore on. There was a whole new confidence and intention in the way he talked to you. He’d never been shy, never had any trouble drawing people in, but there was a fire lit behind his eyes tonight you’d never seen before. And you were the sole object of that blaze.

“So…still with Carl?” He finally asked, after bolstering himself to do so for the last three hours.

You took a long sip of your drink, eyes never leaving his over the rim of your glass. The liquor made you bold, the burn at the back of your throat adding smokiness to your voice.

“No-pe,” you said, popping your lips on the final syllable. Eddie smiled wolfishly and leaned in.

“Good,” he purred. “Cos that would have made it real awkward when I asked you out.”

He took you to dinner two days later. Rang the doorbell and smiled at you as he stood on your porch wearing a black button down under a darker black velvet vest. His black jeans were a new- looking pair of the same kind he’d always worn, sans the ragged holes over his knees.

Despite the thin material of your sundress and the balmy weather outside, you were sweating with nerves. The breeze played with your skirt as he walked you to his van and the coolness of it on your clammy skin made you shiver. But when Eddie suddenly darted ahead of you to open your door and turned around with his hand held up to help you inside, it made you melt. 

The gesture filled your body with warmth, chasing away any hint of a chill.

After dinner, he suggested you walk a block or so to a bar where Eddie liked to play pool. And as you did, his hand reached for yours and he threaded your fingers together. You stared down at it, stunned. How many times had you wished he would do that? How many times did you imagine the heat of his palm against yours mixing with the coolness of his chunky silver rings on his fingers? It had always seemed so impossible and he’d just done it.

Like it was nothing. Like he’d done it a thousand times before. Easy. Natural.

He held your hand all the way into the bar, only letting go of you to accept a tray of balls from the bartender when Eddie requested a table. With a couple of beers in hand, you followed him to his favorite one that was tucked away in a little alcove, practically private.

You set down the beers and watched as he racked the balls, gaze lingering on his long frame and chuckling at the way he shimmied his hips as he leaned over the table to break. “Eyes on me,” he told you, playful smile revealing his teeth.

It was a redundant request, because it was entirely impossible to look anywhere else.

Eddie had filled out quite a bit since high-school. He was never an athlete by any means, but evidently a regime of guitar playing and dice throwing was enough to maintain decent tone. You stared at him unabashed as he walked around the table, lining up his shot. His vest now flapped open and he’d rolled up his shirtsleeves to reveal the familiar smattering of bats under his elbow and the puppetmaster etched inside his forearm. It made you wonder how many more tattoos—new ones you’d not yet seen—were hiding under the rest of his clothes. He smirked at you, smug as he leaned over the table, thoroughly enjoying the way your eyes followed him.

“See something you like, sweetheart?” he drawled before sinking a bank shot.

You rolled your eyes, trying to fein being unimpressed. “Trying to distract me, Munson?” you asked, chalking the tip of your cue in a much more sensual manner than necessary, letting your fingers lazily stroke the stick as Eddie watched transfixed. He huffed a laugh at the display.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Evidently, both of you were equally distracted. Most of your games lagged for a mutual inability to sink more than one shot in a row as the other did their best to pull focus. It was far easier for you, having only to lean forward slightly across the table from him to reveal a healthy dose of your cleavage. That, coupled with a coy smile and batting eyelashes, spelled disaster for Eddie. Everytime you did it, he’d scratch his shot and chuckle dryly at his own hubris.

He took a different approach, choosing instead to stand as close to you as he could as you lined up your shots. His musk and cologne filled your nose, a tantalizing woodsy smell that made your head spin as you struggled to keep your eyes on the ball. He rested his hip against the table, handcuff belt buckle glinting as it reflected the light from the lamp hanging overhead.

You could practically hear the childish taunt of not touching you, not touching you.

“Just take your shot, baby,” he cooed, low and husky. The sound made your heart hammer.

A couple hours of teasing and toying later, both of you were ready to explode. Your glasses sat empty on the nearby table, neither of you terribly interested in a refill. And as Eddie sunk the eight ball again, his eyes flashed to the tray for the balls rather than going to re-rack them.

“I guess I should get you home?” he asked.

A little sullen at the idea, you nodded and returned your cues to a rack on the wall while Eddie brought the balls back to the bartender and settled the tab. Only when you were walking back to the table to get your purse and passed a pair of men who reeked of tobacco did something occur to you: Eddie hadn’t taken a smoke break once.

“Did you quit?” you asked, staring at him with wide eyes. He smiled as he drew nearer to you, relishing the way your chest heaved as you reacted to his closeness.

“Took a couple years, but yeah,” he said. “Sometimes I still need a little help, though.”

He tugged his shirttail out from the waistband of his jeans, causing his belt and the chain on his wallet to jingle slightly as he lifted his shirt to flash a strip of his stomach. You’re so distracted by the action and the cut of his v-muscle it takes a few seconds to register the beige nicotine patch stuck on his hip. You stared at him and then back at it, fingers itching to reach out and touch.

He leaned in, his face the closest it had been to yours all night, his voice hushed so only you could hear. “For when I’m really nervous,” he said.

Streetlights and stars blurred as you stepped out of the bar and he whirled you into the alley. The rough brick scraped your back and snagged on your dress as you were flattened against it and you gazed up at Eddie, string lights overhead shining brightly in your eyes.

“Are you ready?” he asked softly. “Are you ready for this to start?”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight his eyes trained on your face. Your hands settled lightly on his waist and you gave an impatient tug as you nodded. It was all the invitation he needed. 

His mouth met yours like the sun met the horizon. The softest kiss you’d ever had deepened gradually until you were grasping at him, fisting his shirt in your fingers. Your lips felt molded together, pliant to the other’s movements, but still insistent as they chased one another.

Control shifted subtly between you, taking turns drawing the other in and pulling back. More teasing, more toying. Yet you never denied each other long, unable to stay apart.

God, this was it. This was what it was always supposed to feel like.

It could have been hours you stood out there kissing and laughing, but you’d never have known. The only thing that alerted you to the passing of time was when the lights inside the bar shut off and the employees filed out for their final smoke break before heading home.

Giggling like terrible criminals begging to be caught, you and Eddie hugged the shadows and made your way back to his van. You rode home with your panties soaked, subtly shifting in your seat, trying not to think about the arousal pooled between your thighs. And at home, back in your room, you were so tempted to dip your fingers into the slickness as you thought about Eddie’s breath on your lips; how the ends of his curls tickled your sternum when he leaned into you; the way his scent lingered on your skin after being pressed between his body and that wall. 

But you didn’t dare risk the disappointment that would follow when your pleasure receded like waves being drawn into a riptide; when you backed down from the edge of that cliff, feeling even emptier after not reaching that peak. Again. No, you couldn’t spoil this night with all that.

You saw him more throughout the week. He started popping into your father’s store almost as soon as it opened, offering you coffee and a kiss. And he spent the first hour of the morning with you at the front counter, propped up on his elbow with his chin resting on the heel of his hand.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you asked, swatting him with a folded up newspaper after you finished doing the jumble together.

He just shrugged with all the casual ease of somebody whose own shop didn’t open until 11. Or noon if he was hungover. “What could be better than hanging out with my favorite girl?”

Favorite girl. The words lived in your brain all day. It made you positively giddy every time you thought about it, even causing you to accidentally enter a customer’s 15% discount as 51% and not even bother correcting it. The loss on a value pack of paint brushes and trays seemed a paltry fee for the smile that spread across old Mrs. Gershwin’s face when she saw her total.

Eddie started calling every night at 9:30, practically on the dot, and it didn’t take long for you to get in the habit of settling into your bed around that time so you could pick up the receiver in your room before the ringing disturbed your dad dozing in his recliner downstairs. 

“So when do I get to take you out again?” he asked, clearly not oblivious to how it made you melt on the other end of the line. 

You blushed your way through making arrangements for an early movie Saturday followed by dinner. Then, before beginning the long process of saying your goodnights, you paused to ask him the thing you’d been wondering since that night at the Hideout.

“Eddie…are we really doing this?” you asked, torn between giddiness and trepidation.

“I certainly am,” he hummed into the receiver.

He talked the whole way through the movie and still had more to say at dinner afterward. 

It didn’t bother you, though. You loved listening to him talk. Your ears had gone so long without his rambling, it was more like music than words. His feet toyed with yours under the table and after you ordered dessert, he excused himself to use the bathroom only to slide into your side of the booth when he came back. You giggled over tiramisu and cheesecake, your sides pressed together from shoulder to ankle. Later, the tastes of your desserts would mix in your mouths as he kissed you deeply in his car dropping you off.

Everything about it felt so alive. So ripe with the promise of what this could turn into, what it had already become. In two dates with Eddie, you felt more connection than you had in two years of dating Carl. Not that it was fair comparing them. Nothing and no one could ever compare to this.

It was a Wednesday when he made a new proposition. You had already crawled into bed and swathed yourself in blankets to wait for his call. And after the few customary minutes of talking about your respective days, he brought up his idea for Friday night.

“Would you want to come over here for dinner?” he asked.

“You…you mean like your place?”

“I was thinking mine, but if your heart is set on a neighbor’s, I’m sure breaking in wouldn’t be too difficult.” He’s smirking so hard you swear you can hear it over the phone. 

“I guess yours will do,” you chuckled. “Does this mean I’ll get to see The Hair in person?”

Eddie was living with Steve Harrington, which had taken a commanding lead for being the most confusing thing you’d learned since returning home. Apparently they’d been brought together by a shared friendship with Dustin Henderson, one of the kids from Hellfire Eddie had taken under his batwing during his third and final senior year. Dustin had spent months insisting both boys would get along if they only gave the other a chance until his badgering paid off.

Now, the pair shared a tiny apartment downtown, walking distance from Eddie’s shop and only a short drive to Family Video where Steve was now the manager. And Dustin evidently couldn’t go five minutes without congratulating himself for bringing the two of them together. Eddie liked to joke that they were now co-parenting the little shithead (affectionate).

“Actually, Steve is out of town this weekend,” Eddie said, struggling to contain his excitement and keep his cool. “So, we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

Breathe, breathe, breathe. “Oh, yeah?” you said, voice spiking just an octave too high.

“Yep. And, um…you could stay over if you wanted? If that sounds good to you?”

Stay over. You knew what that meant. There was something gut wrenchingly endearing about the way he asked—the innocent peal of his voice. But there was no doubt in your mind what he was getting at. This wasn’t going to be like crashing on his couch after a movie night or pouring yourself into his bed after a Corroded Coffin show that lasted to the wee hours.

This would be something new. Something completely different.

“That sounds great,” you said, finally.

And it did sound great. It just also sounded a little terrifying.

Admittedly, you hadn’t been on many dates in your life. But television and film had successfully indoctrinated you with knowledge of that classic Third Date milestone. And it made sense. He wasn’t some stranger. You’d known each other for so long, it stood to reason things would continue to accelerate between you.

And was that such a bad thing? 

This was Eddie, after all. He was your best friend. He was your other half. You weren’t sure if  you even believed in soul mates, so to speak, but if they did exist you couldn’t imagine anyone besides him in that role. He had stoked life into the coals within you that you were certain had burnt into a lump of ash. You never felt with anyone the way you felt with him. 

So if you were gonna do this, you were gonna do it right.

You went shopping, fighting off anxious nausea as you perused the racks of lingerie in the far corner of a little boutique. Averting your eyes from the more salacious options, you settled on a matching set of midnight blue embroidered with silver thread to look like stars. It was made of thin mesh that gave the illusion of coverage, but revealed plenty through the sheer netting.

It also looked a little like something a wizard might wear. And for obvious reasons, you had a feeling Eddie might like that. 

Securing your purchase you thought might make you feel more prepared, but it only caused your thoughts to unravel further. This was the first time Eddie would be seeing your underwear and it wasn’t even your own. At least it didn’t yet feel like your own the way your drawer full of less suggestive garments did. What if he thought you looked ridiculous? What if he laughed or got turned off because your thighs were too big or the pudge of your stomach grossed him out? Worse yet, what if you failed to live up to the implications? What if he saw it and assumed you knew what you were doing, only to be woefully disappointed by your skills? Or lack thereof?

It was impossible to reconcile the two wolves fighting for dominance in your mind. On the one hand, it was wildly exciting: the thought of finally getting to be with him and touch him and have him touch you back. At the same time, though, you were overwhelmed at the prospect. What if it changed things between you? You’d always thought you wanted more than friendship with him, but what if in that pursuit you lost the person you treasured more than anything in the world?

And then of course there were the normal fears. 

After so much unfulfilling sex, you couldn’t help but be fearful your body would betray you as it always had. It was hard not to pin all your hopes on this and you didn’t want to add any more pressure to this night than you already felt. But even if you backed off that peak and failed to reach the summit, surely the ascent would feel just as nice as long as it was with him. 

Right?

This was what you tried to tell yourself as you turned one last time in front of your mirror. 

Literally everything about this night was making you uncomfortable and it hadn’t even begun yet. The lingerie that felt fine when you bought it was tight and itchy on your skin, and it felt glaringly obvious you were wearing it under your clothes—like a diaper or a straightjacket.

You’d shaved, even though it made you feel like a creepy bald Barbie, and even though you found the concept kind of disturbing. Whose brilliant idea was it anyway that to be sexy you had to look like a child between your legs? And you always wound up completely bare because you could never get it even and kept having to take more from each side until nothing was left.

Still, you did it. Because that was what everyone did, right? That’s what he would expect?

Shaking your head, trying to fling away all your thoughts, you busy yourself packing your small overnight bag. It was the same one you must have brought over to Eddie’s a hundred times over, but for the first time you found yourself doubting it. Would he think you were high maintenance for wanting your own toothbrush and a change of clothes? For bringing something comfortable to sleep in? Would he think you were a weirdo for not just sleeping naked? God, what if he saw it and figured you’d been sleeping with so many guys, you just kept it packed all the time?

Panic creeps up the back of your neck. It burns hot on your cheeks and makes your heart pound in your temples until you’re so dizzy you have to lean against the door with your head bent.

Breathe, you think. Breathe, breathe, breathe. 

Frustratingly slowly, the thrumming in your chest subsides. You managed to bring yourself down off the ledge and find your center—Eddie.

Eddie would make everything alright. 

He always did.

Part Two

[kiddotarot]

MOON IN HOUSE AND EFFECTS = PART 1

As explained in the preceding issue, the Sun is regarded as the generator of power that gives spirit and life to all planets, the Moon is considered to be the conductor of power lent by Sun and rules over the lives of the beings on this earth. Sun represents individuality, whereas Moon shows one’s personality.

Moon in Ist House

In general, the 1st house belongs to Mars and Sun. When the moon is also placed therein, this house will come under the combined influences of the Mars, the Sun and the Moon i.e. all the 3 mutual friends will be treated as occupants of this house. The Sun and Mars will extend all friendly support to their natural friend Moon placed on the throne i.e. the ascendant house. Such native will be soft-hearted and will inherit all the traits and qualities of his mother. He will be either the eldest brother or will certainly be treated so. As long as the native receives the blessings of his mother and keeps her happy, he will continue to rise and prosper in every way. The things and the relatives as represented by Mercury, who is inimical to Moon, will prove harm- ful to the native, e.g., the sister-in-law and the green color will affect adversely. Hence it is better to keep away from them. Burning milk (for making Khoya) or selling milk for profit would reduce or minimize the power of the Moon placed in the 1st house, which means that the native’s life and property would be de- stroyed if he engages himself in such activities. Such a native should serve others with water and milk freely for long life and all round prosperity. Such a native will get a life of about 90 years and will be bestowed with honours and fame by the Govt.

Moon in 2nd House

The results of the 2nd house, when Moon is placed therein, will be influenced by Jupiter, Venus and the Moon, because this is the Puckka Ghar, the permanent house of Jupiter and Venus is the lord of the second Rashi Taurus. The Moon gives very good results in this house, as it becomes very strong here because of the friendly support of Jupiter against Venus. Such a native may not have sisters, but will certainly be having brothers. In case he doesn’t have, his wife will certainly have brothers. He will certainly receive his due share in parental properties. Whatever be the planetary position otherwise, but the Moon here will ensure male offspring to the native. The native will receive good education, which will add to his fortune. The Business associated with the things of the Moon will prove highly advantageous. He may be a reputed teacher also. The Ketu placed in the 12th house will cause eclipse of the Moon here, which will deprive the native either of good education or of male children.

Moon in 3rd House

The results of the 3rd house, when the Moon is placed therein, will be influenced by the Mars, Mercury and Moon. Here the Moon proves highly beneficial to ensure a long life and great wealth or riches for the native. If there are no planets in the 9th and 11th houses, then Mars and Venus will give good results to the native because of the Moon being in the 3rd house. With the advancement of the native’s education and learning, the economic condition of his father will deteriorate, but without affecting his education adversely. If Ketu’s placing in the horoscope is auspicious and not harming the Moon in the 3rd, the education of the native will bear good fruits and prove advantageous in every manner. If the Moon is malefic, it will cause great loss of wealth and money at the age of the malefic planet placed in the 9th house

Moon in 4th House

The results of the 4th house are the general product of the total influences of Moon, the lord of the 4th Rashi Cancer and the permanent resident of the 4th house. Here the Moon becomes very strong and powerful in every manner. The use of, and association with the things represented by the Moon will prove highly beneficial to the native. Offer milk in place of water to the guests. Obtain blessings of your mother or the elderly women by touching their feet. The 4th house is the river of income which will continue to increase expenditure. In other words, expenditure will augment income. The native will be a reputed and honoured person with soft heart and all sorts of riches. He will inherit all the traits and qualities of his mother and will face the problems of life boldly like a lion. He will receive honour and favours from the government along with riches and will provide peace and shelter to others. Good education will be ensured for the native. If Jupiter is placed in the 6th house and Moon in the 4th, parental profession will suit him. If a person has mortgaged certain valuables to the native, he will never come back to demand it. If Moon be placed with 4 planets in the 4th house, the native will be economically very strong and wealthy. The male planets will help the native like sons and the female planets like daughter

Moon in 5th House

The results of the 5th house, when the Moon is placed therein, will be influenced by the Sun, the Ketu and the Moon. The native will adopt just and right means to earn wealth and will not yield to wrong doing. He may not do well in business but certainly receive favours and honours from the government. Anyone supported by him will win. The Moon in the 5th house will give 5 sons if the Ketu is well placed and benefic even if the Moon is joined by malefic planets. By his education and learning the native will undertake several mea- sures for others welfare, but the others will not do good to him.

Hope you enjoy

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request headcanons of Heracles, Buddha, and Hades seeing their s/o in a playboy bunny costume?

“[Y/N]! We’re going to be late for the party!” Heracles called through their small home. Even with only half his vocal force, the room booming with the sound of it.

They had been invited to a small gathering of some of the demi-gods and former soldiers for Apokries. The festival season was always one of his favorite of the year. The comradery. The laughter. And of course, the food and drinking.

There were also the elaborate costumes some of the participants wore. It was not a requirement, but encouraged. Dressing up was also something Heracles enjoying. Stepping out of one’s self for a bit to be another. Although this lion’s head was getting rather itchy.

“Ok! I’m ready!”

[Y/N] came out from around the corner. Bright smiled and literally bushy tailed. “Do you like it? Loki mentioned this was a modern bunny costume on Earth these days. He said it would be a wonderful fit for our Lion and the Rabbit costume.”

Heracles just stood there. Staring at [Y/N] as they explained their costume and then process. Then all of a sudden he announced, “how wonderful! It’s so unique!”

The demi-god came over and scooped [Y/N] up in his arms. “How thoughtful of Loki to be so helpful. Maybe he’s finally coming around. But we should head off to the party before we’re late, and show everyone your beautiful costume.”

“Ok!”

They go to the party and receive a lot of stares. Heracles knew that his lion’s head was authentic, but he didn’t think it would get that much attention from strangers.

“Oi! Babe! Let’s go! If we wait any longer we’re going to be late.”

Not that that would be the end of the world. Buddha didn’t really want to go to the party anyway. He’d rather just stay home with [Y/N]. Besides, costume parties seemed lame.

“Alright, alright! I’m coming, I’m coming!”

Buddha turned his head when they came into the room and looked like he had seen a ghost. “What are you wearing??”

“It’s my costume.” They reply nonchalantly. Giving him a little twirl. “Don’t you like it?”

“Oh yeah. I like it.” It was a good thing he usually wore loose fitting pants. “But you can’t wear that.”

“Can’t?” [Y/N] repeated with their hands on their hips.

“You know what I mean. Not ‘can’t can’t’, you just can’t.”

“I thought you were all about ‘free will’ and ‘expression of one’s true self’.” Buddha growled.

“Yeah. But not if people are going to ogle my partner!”

[Y/N] huffed. “That’s their business. We are not in control of how others examine the world, only ourselves.” He was really regretting writing all this stuff down. “I’m going to the party. You can either choose to come with me or stay here. It’s up to you.”

Buddha thought about it for a moment. Would it be better to see those goons ogling them in person, or just imagine it all night?

In the end, he decided to go. It was very hard to keep to the ‘do not harm’ mandate for the evening.

“Dearest, we will need to get going or we will be late.” Hades called from their bedroom. Adjusting his regalia.

Apokries was an auspicious time for the gods. Many festivals. Many offerings. And, of course, many parties for them to attend.

The higher gods had their own party that they normally attended. Mostly his family. A few ‘outsiders’ welcomed into the fold, but typically just them. Hades liked spending time with his family but did appreciate that the party planning could be tedious.

“Ok, I’m ready my love.” [Y/N] came out of their closet in their selected ensemble for the evening. Hades one visible eyebrow arching considerably.

“It’s a lovely outfit, my darling, but you do know that this is a formal affair. Yes?”

“I’m wearing a bowtie.”

Hades sighed and covered his face. Partly due to annoyance. Partly to hide the grin on his face at their retort. “Please change. I wouldn’t ask normally, however I would rather you not be around my lech of a brother and Aphrodite in that.” The two of them would have a field day, and he doesn’t want to see what hells Hera would unleash on them if Zeus, inevitably, couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

[Y/N] huffed and went to change.

They would be late now, but that was his prerogative as the older brother. However, Hades would have to keep that outfit in mind for later. When they were alone. It really was a lovely little outfit.

[hedgehog-moss]

Bird update: Unfortunately I’ve had to say goodbye to my rooster. I quite liked him but if you’ll remember, he was here on probation and after a few weeks of good behaviour he started pestering my hen a lot. She started looking a bit unhappy (huddling under the outdoor table instead of trotting about), then she stopped laying and I thought perhaps she was moulting and it could explain her moodiness and missing feathers, but the pattern of missing feathers seemed to point to the rooster as a culprit. Then he hurt her wing, allegedly (I have no proof so I’m protecting myself from a libel claim.)

On nice days Dru likes to sit and soak up the sun, stretching her wings one at a time, and on a couple of occasions I saw her stretch only her left wing, never opening her right one. I poked her wing gently and she didn’t bite my hand off which was a good sign, but then I picked her up and placed her on a chair, expecting her to jump off straight away like “I never asked you to put me here, mind your own business”—and indeed she jumped but she only flapped her left wing to slow her fall.

I called the vet to ask if it meant the other wing was broken and what I could do, and she was pretty reassuring, saying if the wing was held closed in the right position it would heal on its own—if it were dangling on the other hand I would need to find a little toddler’s t-shirt for my hen to wear, to keep her wing against her body. The vet also said what vets always say—“as long as the animal is eating normally it’s probably going to be fine!” (and that’s the case)

But I couldn’t keep the rooster any longer—even if he weren’t the one who hurt Dru (innocent until proven guilty) it wouldn’t help the healing process if he kept trying to mount her, so I put him in a box and took him back to his natal farm. They weren’t terribly happy to see him again, but well. I wanted to give him a chance but the circumstances (with only one hen) weren’t auspicious and I sort of expected this experiment to fail. Best of luck, rooster...

A couple of days after his departure, Dru lay an egg again for the first time since mid-February, so I think the message was pretty clear!

Also, that’s a tall bale of hay (from a chicken’s perspective) so I’m not sure how she managed to climb on top of it without boosting herself with her wings. Did she fake a wing injury to get the rooster ousted? Pampe would fake a wing injury without hesitation but chickens strike me as honest. I mean they're unrepentant food thieves but they’re upfront about it.

Final bird update: on Friday I managed to get a new hen! I hope having a new coopmate won’t put Dru in a bad mood again and cause another egg strike. The new hen is very young and still looks like a gangly teenager, and she seems quite vivacious and curious, here she is determinedly strolling into her new home:

One notable fact about her is that she doesn’t speak chicken. She doesn’t kot kot like an adult hen, and she doesn’t make the incoherent gurgling sound that baby hens make, either. It’s more like a dissonant quack. I’m not sure what to attribute it to—maybe she was raised near ducks and picked up a foreign language? I might have to call her Daisy if she keeps this up. I tried to record her but she’s pretty scared of me for the time being so she’s all shy and quiet when I’m nearby...

Dru isn’t amused by any of this. New hen tries to follow her and chat with her and gets snubbed a lot. Well, I did hear Dru cluck amicably the first evening when I brought the new hen in the coop, but she didn’t get an answer, there’s a real language barrier here. I hope the new hen learns French soon because right now Dru just keeps running away from her! 

Poor Dru, she lost her good friend and then had to deal with a dude who woke her up every day at dawn crowing as loudly as possible, and now a new roommate who speaks duck. It’s only been two days though; I’m sure they’ll get along eventually!

[seafoamreadings]

week of april 14th, 2024

these are written predominantly for the *rising* signs but they are also intuitively "channeled" enough that they should work for any dominant energy you have! (try your sun if you don't know rising, or more advanced readers can try moon, anywhere you have a stellium, etc and see what works best for you!)

aries: you're on a post-eclipse wind-down. no matter what happened last week, although of course you must deal with it, i hope you are resting! the astrology is helpful with this - rest, nourish, it gives you strength.

taurus: mars sextiles jupiter and uranus in your sign, and meanwhile mercury in its retrograde conjoins your ruling planet venus. okay, mercury retrograde is not a crowd favorite. but overall this is auspicious for you; any change you need to make can be made. avoid grand actions, and actually avoid any action if possible, but make plans now to execute in a few weeks' time.

gemini: if you have been despondent or bummed out about mercury's retrograde, it does at least accomplish some nice little conjunctions. try to use the time well, even if it means spending a lot of time in your head. you don't have to go driving all around or sending a million emails to be productive.

cancerians: cardinal (especially aries) vibe rages on. but with that said it is a good time to beautify your public image. even if you don't go posting your headshots all over your linkedin or whatever, take a nice photo today, see how you feel. you can post it later or not. or now! or not. but at least see how it goes, or something similar if social media isn't pertinent to your social status.

leo: jupiter-uranus makes you a public persona. if you have wanted to develop an online presence, a political shift in the world, a legacy of any kind, sudden "viral" yet positive outbursts are likely for you around this week. you just have to give it the first little push.

virgo: although it is still a somewhat wild time it's actually a pretty sturdy period for virgoans, especially those with closer affinity to ceres than to mercury. if there is something you need to do or learn, it is a great time to lock in and get it done!

libra: venusian nodal activity means you're still not quite done with eclipse themes. hopefully that's not dreadful; hopefully it means great things are coming for you relationship-wise. there is also a jupiter-uranus conjunction in your 8th house, bringing positive changes to intimacy, magic, and/or shared resources.

scorpio: relationships are a very major focus at this time, with a lot of (mostly positive, try not to worry) changes but the end of the week also features a sun-pluto square in fixed signs. pluto is your ruling planet, but it is in aquarius at this moment. so these two bodies may well make a T-square to any natal scorpio points. it is uncomfortable but it brings about transformation, which in the end is kind of your whole deal.

sagittarius: the long-awaited jupiter-uranus conjunction happens in taurus this week. taurus is not a sign you are likely to feel much natural affinity or understanding with. but jupiter is your ruling planet - this is the biggest thing affecting you this week. try to live a little bit like a taurean, but one who embraces change and all the electricity alive in nature. be outside touching grass literally. the miracles then come easier.

capricorn: most modern astrology has you painted as something like a miser or suited up businessman but you're still the old god pan at heart. this week's jupiter-uranus conjunction brings that out of you - let it.

aquarius: even if you stay at home, the weirdness finds its way to you. so there's no need to alter your plans, although if you feel compelled to do so it won't hurt or keep opportunities away either. besides, weirdness has always suited you. this week's style of it is bold but benevolent. this is one of the last major uranian things of this uranus in taurus age, so enjoy it.

pisces: most of this week's events, large as they are, affect you only indirectly. have patience with others who are deeper in the trenches. not that compassion is any real difficulty for you. if you get the chance to volunteer to help someone it is good to take it.

[likealittleheartbeat]

Why in the first season do we have the motif of Zuko stealing Katara’s mother’s betrothal necklace? Some point to a romantic subtext being read into this that, they argue, later gets ignored in order to prop up a problematic relationship for Katara with Aang, the protagonist. But if there’s subtext to be read in the theft of a betrothal token from a subjugated female by a male imperial representative, however, it’s the subtext of rape.

Why is it that it’s the women in the southern water tribe are gone? Ostensibly because they were the benders—but there’s a darker undertone, especially when we consider the clearly made analogy to indigenous peoples in North America, where even to this day native women are 2 times more likely to experience rape than those from other races. The fact that the necklace was her mother’s illustrates this legacy and connection, pointing us back to the original invasion of the tribe by the Fire nation, the attack on Katara’s mother by a single soldier inside their home (allowed in in order to protect Katara) and how Zuko’s actions at the beginning of the series echo it. This is not an auspicious place to begin a relationship if that’s what the writers were planning. Traditional enemies-to-lovers arcs usually involve prejudice but usually tied to pride, less so that kind of sexual violence. Despite Romeo and Juliet coming from warring families, it’s never implied that Romeo committed war crimes in the first act, especially not against the girl who falls for him, so we should perhaps be clued in that something different is going on in Katara and Zuko’s dynamic.

The intense rage, fear, and defense Katara puts up against Zuko in the finale of the first season (right after she has had to face the misogyny among her own people) is evocative of her response to his assaults throughout the first season. If this was not enough, we then have the rape of the moon spirit and the sacrifice of Yue for her people happening in the background, all pointing us back to the gendered violence of the empire Katara’s living under and fighting against. Her battle is not passionate because she secretly loves Zuko. She is doing everything within her power to protect herself and the spirit (literally the Avatar and figuratively within herself) that she has kept kindled despite the violent attempts to wipe it out—Zuko eventually prevails and steals a precious thing from her again…

When Katara and Zuko are imprisoned together during “The Crossroads of Destiny,” often seen as the peak of their romantic tension, they discuss their mothers, and Katara learns about the loss of Zuko’s mother (which we’re encouraged by the symbolism in the first season to read through the symbolic lens of gendered abuse and sexual violence, only now it’s domestic and internal rather than imperial). Zuko’s shift to a pitiable victim of abuse has softened his monstrous face for us, and the same happens to Katara in the catacombs, to the point where she’s willing to share a spiritual token with him.

It’s remarkable in the scene that, after being interrupted, there’s an effort made to remind the audience of Aang and Zuko’s continued antagonism—they glare at each other despite being in the embrace of the person who cares most about them in the world. And in the next scene, it’s revealed that Katara and Zuko’s reconciliation is actually not enough to transform Zuko’s loyalties. His desires for Aang and the redemption he can offer are too great.

In fact, throughout this couple of scenes, Zuko shows no interest in possessing or learning about Katara. She spouts off her grievances without his request, and then he shares his own loss only in defense to Katara's accusations and self-recognition in her stories, not as consolations for her pain. And Katara is moved by his vulnerability because she is so eager to see more evil within imperial power. She wants to hear the truth about how even those within it are injured. With all the feminine fantasy of being able to fix the behavior that toxic masculinity has induced, she suggests her spirit water might alleviate the scar Zuko bears--no forethought about preserving it for her own needs. Zuko doesn’t even request or accept the spirit water she offers him. It's all Katara. You'll be hard pressed to find a moment where Zuko expresses desire for Katara in this scene, a definite difference from his sexual aggression towards her in the first season. We as an audience are actually moved by his lack of desire her and what she has to offer because Katara is finally free from his predation (though it was only his initial violence that makes this neutral kind of freedom feel heartening).

The eventual gesture of Katara healing Zuko in “Sozin’s Comet” is free of his desire as well, unless you count the desire to protect a non-combatant, which has been Zuko’s reoccurring theme throughout the series, Katara or no (when he chooses the safety of his crew in "the storm," his advocacy for the lives of the fire nation soldiers that led him to banishment, etc.). The suggestion of rape arises here again with the penetrative nature of lightning, but the show has really complicated it’s gender dynamics by having Azula direct it, pointing to imperialism as the core concern rather than a simplified feminist reading. When Katara heals him, it's after she's cared for herself and defeated Azula now, and the words exchanged are "thank you," words of cordiality and comradery. They touch, but they are touches of equal counterparts rather than romance.

Reading romance into the simple refusal to commit colonial rape seems like a fairly low bar. This is neither what Katara nor Zuko are seeking out over the expanse of the series. They are looking for the transformative hope, action, and balance that the Avatar embodies, which, if anything allows them to stop fixating on each other and the dynamic of feminine colonized victim and masculine imperial patriarch that their world would have them locked into forever.

Aang does not go back in time to fix it all, but he brings an acceptance of reality that still allows for change. And this applies to the emotional states for the characters. Finding balance. Their griefs are not gone but not totalizing, either. They don't have to obsess or ruminate on it, or on the person who embodies the "problem" for them. The balance that the Avatar brings (and the fantasy that the show concludes with) is not a world in which the violence of colonialism never occurred but a world in which emotional release is possible from the intensifying dynamics colonialism forces its subjects into to sustain itself.

[serpentface]

what is the wardi zodiac system like? what's the worst and best signs, and how seriously do people take the stars youre born under?

Ok here's a full overview because I had this like 75% typed up already

The Wardi zodiac is a very direct interpretation of each constellation the sun passes through in its ecliptic over the course of the year. There is no attempt to divide these signs evenly throughout the year (as in the western zodiac), rather every single constellation the sun passes has its own zodiac sign (ie the sun only passes the tail of the Lion for about a week of the year, while the sun takes about a month to pass through the entirety of the Gull, making the former a significantly less common sign than the latter).

As such, there are 20 astrological signs in the base system (all of which are animals). Seven of the base signs correlate directly with the seven Faces of God (the zodiac system actually predated this religion, and some preexisting signs may have been retroactively modified to fit). All of these seven signs are considered auspicious and highly positive (though still ascribed some negative personality traits), and are seen as uniquely blessed by their respective Face.

One’s zodiac sign is assumed to be highly informative of their nature and personality. One’s birthsign is described as ‘(constellation)-born’, and the personality associated gains an epithet of ‘(constellation)-faced’. IE: Someone born under the sign of the ox is Ganops (ox-born), to have the personality associated is to be Ganmachen (ox-faced).

The faces associated with the birthsigns may be used as complimentary epithets in speech and verse when the sign is considered auspicious (ie “Lion-faced Faiza”/“Faiza odomachen”), or used disparagingly, especially “dog-faced” (chinmachen), a fairly common insult that describes someone as vicious and lowly.

A birthsign is taken very seriously within the Imperial Wardi cultural sphere, but does not necessarily have fundamental impact upon the average person's daily life. There can be social benefits and detriments associated- many people will want to avoid association with certain birthsigns, or will use them as a basis to judge character. Those in leadership positions may particularly benefit from having an auspicious sign or hiding an inauspicious one. If you exist in the public eye, your sign is extremely likely to come under scrutiny and invite judgments of character, or to add ammunition to other judgments (ie it is frequently noted when unpopular historical kings were dog-born).

They're also usually taken into account for marriage arrangements, as there are established senses of compatibility among the birthsigns. This is most prominent at levels of wealth where one can afford to be choosy about arrangements, but not so high that the arrangement itself is political in nature (thus superseding concerns about compatibility).

The most significance of one's birthsign in day to day life is in the context of astrology and of traditional medicine (a holistic practice that takes a variety of physical and spiritual factors into account). The position of the stars and other celestial bodies are considered to have very strong effects on the world and individuals, as an aspect of God's spirit and Its perpetual flow through the world (the Faces Mitlamache, Inyamache, and especially Kusomache preside most heavily over the movements of the heavens). The common person is unlikely to do a detailed consultation of the stars daily, but will often seek the services of an astrologer before making major moves or life changes, or to help identify sickness. Priests devoted to Kusomache are universally trained in astrology and often provide these services, as are most healers.

BASE ZODIAC SIGNS

Ox: An auspicious sign. Considered to be hardy in nature, patient, hard workers, slow to anger but dangerous when riled, blessed with natural physical strength. They are also regarded as exceedingly stubborn and prone to grudges. The constellation is seen as an ox kneeling at rest.

Lion: An auspicious sign. Considered to have excellent leadership qualities, a heroic and regal disposition, mental acuity, and blessed with natural talent as warriors. They may be overly proud and domineering, aggressive. The constellation is seen as a maned lion mid-stride.

Khait: An auspicious sign. Considered to have spirited personalities, a tendency towards romanticism, and blessed with natural athleticism and virility (in men) and susceptible to the influence of the sun. They are considered prone to over-competitiveness and lustfulness, chasing after whims. The constellation is seen as a leaping khait, with a bright red star as its eye.

Gull: An auspicious sign. Gull-born are considered worldly and knowledgeable, blessed with good fortune, but often somewhat foolish and slow to learn their lessons. The constellation is seen as a gull with its wings spread wide.

Serpent: An auspicious sign. Considered intelligent, quiet, philosophically inclined, good politicians and wise rulers, uniquely blessed with wisdom and uniquely susceptible to the influence of the traveling stars (planets, comets). They may also be conniving and prone to plotting, and make dangerous foes. The constellation is seen as a two-headed, coiling serpent.

Aurochs: An auspicious sign, distinct from ox-born but with some similar qualities. Considered are strong-natured, hard workers, and naturally inclined towards physical strength. They are also considered to be quick to rile and to have bad tempers. Believed to be blessed with especially good fertility and to be highly susceptible to the influence of the moons. The constellation is seen as a bull aurochs with lowered horns.

Duck: An auspicious sign. They are considered wise and thrifty, graciously mannered, excellent romantic partners and parents, blessed with fertility and beauty, but often disorganized and unreliable, naive. The constellation is seen as a duck upon the water.

Horse: Considered docile and nurturing, honest, drawn to poetry and art. They may be overly anxious and dependent on others, regarded as a feeble-natured sign. The constellation is seen as a grazing horse.

Hare: Considered to be cunning, independent, jovial and friendly, but cowardly and avoidant of consequences, lacking in proper respect. The constellation is seen as a running hare.

Dragon: A sign based off a legendary animal that flies and hunts in thunderstorms, with a beaked mouth, horns, the neck of a snake, and body of a hawk. Considered egotistical, demanding, and prone to mood swings, likely to lead a tempestuous life, but a good ally to compatible signs who can match their energy. The constellation is seen as a dragon in flight.

Dog: Usually considered an inauspicious sign. Dog-born have strength in cunning and loyalty, and are considered aggressive but cowardly, often foolish and greedy, lustful, unambitious. The constellation occurs at the foot of the Hunter constellation, identified as either a loyal hunting dog following its master or a lowly scavenger looking for scraps.

King Hyena: Somewhat inauspicious, but given many respectable qualities. They are considered to have powerful and commanding personalities and natural talent as warriors. They are characterized as tyrannical in positions of power and prone to theft, often untrustworthy, brutally pragmatic. The constellation is seen as a stalking king hyena, low to the ground.

Leviathan: Considered somewhat slow-natured and quiet, closed off in personality and difficult to know. The constellation is seen as a swimming leviathan.

Rat: A somewhat inauspicious sign. Considered to be clever and frugal, very sociable, good with business, but ascribed a ruthless low cunning and greediness. The constellation is seen as a rat standing on its hind legs.

Gazelle: Considered gentle natured, emotional, easily worried and pessimistic, avoidant of conflict. The constellation is seen as a leaping gazelle.

Polecat: Considered to have a brave yet foolhardy and carefree nature, often to their own detriment. The constellation is seen as a polecat in the act of the war dance.

Scorpion: A less auspicious counterpart to the serpent as having a potentially treacherous and duplicitous nature, but pragmatic and hardy, thoughtful and quiet. The constellation is seen as a scorpion with its tail arched.

Crow: Largely inauspicious, associated with crows as negative omens. Characterized as intelligent but with a low, cynical and opportunistic nature and a tendency to hold pointless grudges. The constellation is seen as two crows in flight.

Catfish: Considered to have a hardy, simple personality, great patience and wisdom. The constellation is seen as three catfish trapped in a dwindling pool, awaiting the rains.

Pheasant: Considered naturally beautiful, confident and self-assured, foolish and egotistical, prone to vanity. The constellation is seen as a pheasant with a trailing tail.

Main character birthsigns:

Palo: dragon

Tigran: hare

Couya: crow

Faiza: lion

Janeys: dog

Brakul: ox

Hibrides: catfish

[marta-diablo]

Any small child catching sight of Noel Fielding of The Mighty Boosh in his clown gear would vow never to go to the circus again. Fielding’s torso is encased in a green felt globe, his hands protruding helplessly from the bottom. From beneath lurid make-up, he flashes a deeply unsettling grin, as if auditioning for the role of a psychopathic killer in Test Card: The Movie. “I’m just popping out for some coffee,” he deadpans. “Does anybody want anything?”

His Booshmate Julian Barratt, who currently looks like the victim of back-alley gender reassignment surgery, brushes his new blond tresses away from his face and sighs. “What a job, eh?”

When the duo decided to pose as the pair from the 1970s TV test card, it didn’t take long to decide who should play which part. If you want make-up and a manic grin, Fielding’s your man. He arrives at the studio resembling a time-travelling glam-rock star: pointy boots, snug red trousers, tight T-shirt, pendant shaped like a Flying Vee guitar, alarming bone structure. In one episode of their TV series, Barratt tells Fielding, “Look at you - feather cut, the pointy features. Put you in the 1950s, you’d be imprisoned for being a witch. They’d lock you in a trunk!” He’s probably right.

Barratt carries himself like someone trying to elude capture. It’s this wary unease that defined his performance as misanthropic style journalist Dan Ashcroft in Nathan Barley, Chris Morris’s Channel 4 comedy series. Morris wanted Dan to be someone who “wasn’t really comfortable in his skin”. I ask Barratt if Dan is a version of his own personality and he looks mildly wounded. “Not really, no. There were elements of me - it’s sometimes painful to be around people who are annoying - but Dan was a bit of a tit. I didn’t really like him.”

The Mighty Boosh have already completed two successful BBC series and are currently working on a third. Fielding, 33, thinks comedy is about allowing people to feel young again. “When you’re really laughing, you feel like a little kid and nothing matters. Everyone’s trying to feel as free as they were when they were kids.” Barratt, 38, seems to regard comedy’s inner workings as an imponderable mystery. “You still don’t know why you’re funny, do you?” Fielding says. “Not really,” Barratt sighs.

After almost a decade of working together, the pair are obviously close. When the camera’s not pointed in their direction, they huddle on the studio sofa in earnest conference punctuated by giggles. There is much to discuss: “We’ve got so many things we want to do and we need a basket to put them all in,” explains Barrett. “A structural basket.”

Fielding has a different metaphor. “We know when we’ve got enough ideas. If we haven’t and we try to write, it’s a bit weird. It’s like loading a gun and not having enough bullets.”

They first met in 1996, when Fielding went to see Barratt doing stand-up in High Wycombe. There had been less auspicious nights. Barratt recalls, “I ran off stage at my first gig. Halfway through it, I forgot my lines and didn’t know what to do, so I just ran out of the building down towards a lake. I was going to throw myself in, but the compere came out and said, 'No, it’s going well, come back and finish the gig!’ ”

The two share enthusiasms (Captain Beefheart, Monty Python, Mr Benn) and Barratt launched their collaboration by asking Fielding if he wanted to write the new Goodies. “We wanted to be a gang rather than a sketch troupe,” he says. From the start, their combination of absurdist wit, far-fetched narratives and bizarre musical interludes was the stuff of cult success. Audiences either entered their world and found them the funniest thing around, or they didn’t get them at all. “We used to have to convince people we were funny,” Barratt says, “and it didn’t always work.”

It did, however, work well enough to earn them nominations or awards at three consecutive Edinburgh festivals. A radio series followed and they finally made it to the nation’s TV screens in 2004. Earlier this year, they returned to touring. They get offers all the time, but having got this far on their own idiosyncratic terms, they have no desire to work according to anyone else’s.

“If Tim Burton called up and said, 'I’m making a film about two white Americans who go and become Red Indians’, I’m sure we’d jump at the chance,” Fielding says. “But if it’s, 'Do you want to be in this sitcom that’s a bit like Coupling?’ I’d rather shoot myself.”

When did you first find something really funny?

Noel Fielding: My nan used to look after me in the summer holidays and she had a cat with one eye. It used to walk into walls and tables. I used to think it was hilarious. It was a slapstick cat.

Who are your comedy inspirations?

Julian Barrett: I loved the Goodies’ sense of adventure.

NF: The Young Ones was the first thing I really liked. I was so young I didn’t really know what students were. I just thought they were some men who lived in a house.

What’s not funny?

JB: Cancer?

NF: It can be, though, can’t it?

JB: Yeah, sometimes a tumour will make me laugh.

When did you last laugh?

NF: I laugh all the time. I’m slightly simple. I went to a festival in Cambridge last weekend and there were men standing on a wheelchair and getting their friends to push them down a muddy hill and really hurting themselves. One of them had a fur coat, a dress underneath, massive boots and a witch’s hat. It was so stupid that everyone was laughing at them. It was quite freeing, actually.

What’s the funniest thing that’s ever happened to you?

NF: Once I got stuck in a suit of armour. I had to be a knight in Al Murray’s show for two minutes. I had a gig afterwards and there was no one there backstage, so I couldn’t get out of it. I had to run next door and do the gig in a suit of armour. Al thought it was the best thing ever. “You should do that every night! It’s brilliant!” he said.

What’s the secret of comedy?

JB: The secret of comedy is don’t grow up. That’s why some comedians are a nightmare, because they never grow up.

Tell us a joke

NF: You stop hearing proper jokes when you’re a comedian. I’m always slightly disappointed by real jokes. There’s a lot of pressure to understand them and laugh at them. Occasionally we come up with a proper joke by accident and we almost apologise.

· The Mighty Boosh debut live DVD is released on November 13.

x

[deus-ex-mona]

let it be known that the first thing i did upon arrival was to get us onboard the ✨wrong train✨

[wangxianficrecs]

We Meet at the Thousandth Step by Admiranda, Rynne

We Meet at the Thousandth Step

by Admiranda (@ladypfenix), Rynne (@rynne)

T, WIP, 135k, Wangxian

Summary: As they both go wherever the chaos might be, Lan Wangji and rogue cultivator Wei Wuxian, eldest child of the famous Cangse-sanren, find their paths converging. Soon they'll discover in each other the perfect partner for night hunting...and beyond. Kay's comments: An absolute epic of a story, incredibly well-written and a story that keeps you waiting for the next chapter. It updates every weekend, so this is the kind of WIP Rec for those of you, who are fans of upload schedules. This story is an AU where Wei Wuxian's parents live (and have more children!!) and there's no Sunshot Campaign and Wangxian meet while night-hunting. It features some really interesting cases that Wangxian work on together as they fall in love. Very soft and very comforting. Excerpt: The cultivator’s words lingered with him as he turned away from the tables. Wei Wuxian apparently was also looking into this? While their paths had never crossed, he’d certainly heard much of the eldest child of Cangse-sanren. He often appeared in strange places, in much the same way as Lan Wangji himself, although he was known for taking on rather riskier hunts for the most part. Somewhat dismissive comments suggested that he was wasted as a rogue cultivator and would have been better off had his auspicious mother chosen a clan leader to be his father instead, while more complimentary ones mentioned that he was equally kind to all regardless of status and stood up without hesitation against those who acted unjustly. A few people had suggested that he and Lan Wangji might be close to equals in cultivation strength, although of course as the son of a servant he could never hope to surpass Lan Wangji himself. If what he’d heard of Wei Wuxian’s talents and skills was true, he suspected that the scales would be perfectly balanced between the two of them. He had long been interested in meeting the mysterious rogue cultivator, but strangely their paths had never crossed up to this day.

pov lan wangji, pov wei wuxian, canon divergence, no sunshot campaign, different first meetings, cangse sanren and wei changze live, rogue cultivator wei wuxian, big brother wei wuxian, good sibling wei wuxian, night hunts, case fic, genius wei wuxian, inventor wei wuxian, falling in love, strangers to lovers, everyone lives/nobody dies, developing relationship, meeting the parents, slow burn

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[bosozuku998]

Haganezuka blind date official story

Here is one of the official side stories of demon slayer about the sword smith village chef trying to wed Haganezuka in his 37 birthday hoping that having a wife will make Haganezuka easier to deal with

Cr to the author and transilator

This is vol 3 ch 2 :

(T/N: In modern times, we would have called it a blind date but I’m just gonna stick to matchmaking which is more time appropriate)

Haganezuka Hotaru was a superb sword smith.

Not only did he have the polished techniques that were passed down through the generations of the Haganezuka clan, he loved swords more than anyone else.

But there was a huge problem with his personality.

When he was only two years old, because of his difficult personality, he whittled down his parents’ mental spirit. Afterwards, he even grabbed a cleaver and chased after this youth from the Demon Slayer corps who had a custom sword made by him, yelling “I’ll kill you!!”, “You deserve a thousand deaths!!” and so on. He even choked another youth who had the same job as him and beat up a youth who was a Pillar and various other violent actions. It was already well known among others that he was a self-centered individual……

*

“Hotaru really gives people a headache.”

While seated in the living area and eating mitarashi dango, Tecchikawahara Tecchi let out a huge sigh.

Just to mention, the mitarashi dango was a gift to Haganezuka by the Demon Slayer Kamado Tanjirou. As Tanjirou had trampled on the result of painstaking effort that came from Haganezuka polishing a blade without rest, Haganezuka, in a fit of rage, demanded that Tanjirou “give him mitarashi dango till the day he dies”.

Tanjirou was really amazing* and he really followed the instructions obediently.

(T/N: Amazing – not in a good way. As in doing something to make people bewildered and so on)

Speaking of this thirty seven year old man with the maturity of a fifteen year old….

As the foster father who gave Haganezuka his name, Tecchin slumped his shoulders in low spirits.

“Did I go wrong in the way I raised him?”

“No no no. He’s already a man who’s close the forty. Right now it has nothing to do with how he had been raised.”

Kanamori brewed tea and said calmly.

“Right? Kotetsu boy?”

When his name got called, Kotetsu looked up from his mitarashi dango.

“Yeah. With a personality that’s antisocial and being a hot-headed loner, it’s all Haganezuka’s own fault. You don’t have to care.”

“Even so, I feel that I should take responsibility for it~”

Tecchin shrugged his shoulders lightly like a child.

“I really wish he could become more amicable. Isn’t there some good method for it?”

“Nope.”

Kotetsu answered harshly.

“Rather than changing that person, it’s definitely easier to teach a bear to shake.”

“……Well.” On the other hand, Kanamori who was older, and had more experience in life tilted his head. Then—

“How about setting him up for a matchmaking session?”

Kanamori said leisurely.

*

The plan “It’s about time to get Haganezuka married and create a family and become a changed man” raised by Kanamori progressed smoothly, which was unexpected, under Tecchin’s passionate fanning of the flames.

They had worried that Haganezuka would throw a tantrum……However, even though the person himself appeared to be reticent, he did not put up much protest and agreed to the suggestion. Therefore, the date of Haganezuka Hotaru’s matchmaking was set to be on the closest auspicious day.

And today was that auspicious day.

Kanamori, who made the suggestion, and Kotetsu were both staking out at the courtyard of the Ryotei* where the matchmaking was to take place. The goal was, of course, to spy on the situation.

(T/N: A luxurious traditional Japanese restaurant)

As the village did not allow outsiders, the location of the matchmaking was chosen to be in a town that was far enough from the village, in a time established Ryotei that was famous for its beautiful courtyard. The one was made the reservation was Kanamori so there was no need to sneak themselves in.

In the middle of a hall that was the size of more than twenty tatami mats, a man and a woman sat facing each other. Even if it was not said, this pair was Haganezuka and the girl he was set to meet. Tecchin, who was short, sat between them like he was a piece of décor.

The young lady who was all dressed up was cuter than they had expected, with a petite slender frame that contrasted well with the gorgeous peony pattern of her clothes.

“The other party is really cute. How infuriating.”

“Ah, this completely reflects of village head’s preferences. Her face is exactly like Kanroji-sama’s.”

They heard that Tecchin chose the matchmaking partner seriously. Even though the village head usually had a calm and steady composure, there were occasions when he would emit a terrifying aura of intimidation. But when it came to women, he was just like any other lay person.

“Such a cute person was actually willing to come for matchmaking.”

“If we just go based on looks, Haganezuka-san is handsome. In this case, just the photo alone would be able to pass.”

“So in the end, it’s about appearances.”

“No, Kotetsu-boy. The important factor is love, love.”

Kanamori, who fell in love at first sight with his wife and tied the knot with her, was the number one in the village for doting on his wife and it felt like he would go on a long spew about his feelings for his beloved wife anytime.

At the same time, the matchmaking session continued in the hall.

“May I know what your interest is, Haganezuka-san?”

“……smithing swords.” (bo: this originally and everything Haganezuka says is in small letters indicating Haganezuka's low voice full with shyness through the whole conversation 😂)

Clack. The sozu* that was fixed in the courtyard made a clear sound.

(T/N: Bamboo water fountain that can be found in gardens. When one end fills with water, it will tip over and strike a stone, making a noise. Originally for scaring away animals.)

“Your first name is Hotaru? That’s an excellent name.”

“………thank you.”

“Isnt it? I’m the one who gave him that name. However this child keeps complaining that the name is too cute…”

“Fufufu, he must be embarrassed.”

The sozu made a knocking sound again.

“My interest is in cooking. If you don’t mind, may I find out what kind of dishes you like?”

“…….Mitarashi dango.”

The sozu made another clear noise.

“What do you like to do when you’re not working?”

“….Eat mitarashi dango.”

“Dear me, you really do love mitarashi dango.”

“….I wish I can eat that every day.”

“Haganezuka-san is really adorable.”

The loud clapping sound from the sozu seemed to finalise the conversation.

“Oh? It went pretty well? Also, isn’t the sozu too noisy?!”

“True, it did go better than expected.”

“Right? The atmosphere is quite good but that guy didn’t say much at all and his voice is so soft!!”

“He’s probably nervous, right? A big man like him is acting so coy……how gross.”

“Well, he has been living only for the sake of swords after all. He’s unexpectedly innocent. At least, for now, Haganezuka-san has not done anything strange and the lady seems to have good feelings for him. Maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance.”

As though he was the one participating in this matchmaking session, Kanamori was terribly excited.

“Alright, why don’t you two young people take a stroll in the garden?”

The village head used an old-fashioned method to temporarily wrap things up and the location for the match making moved to the courtyard.

*

A hunky man wearing a Hyottoko mask and a youthful beautiful lady were walking together in the courtyard. This scene was definitely difficult to describe.

“Haganezuka-san, you don’t really like to talk much, do you?”

“…….uh-huh.”

“I like men who are silent. It feels like they’re gentle and intelligent.”

“………………Is that so?”

“The next time, I’ll make Mitarashi dango and bring them to you.

“Thanks.”

Haganezuka still barely uttered a few words and his volume was strangely tiny, also, the contents of the conversation seemed to keep spinning around mitarashi dango. However, the atmosphere between the two could not be considered bad.

“This is a miracle, Kotetsu-boy.”

Kanamori lowered his voice even more to prevent themselves from blowing their cover, and at the same time, he made an action like he was wiping away tears.

“Haganezuka-san’s spring has finally arrived.”

“Ah, that girl actually proactively held his hand!! Oh, that Haganezuka-san is still squirming around, he’s just like an octopus!”

“Yeah, he’s shy, I suppose?”

“You call that shy?! That’s disgusting!”

“It is indeed disgusting but right now, we should be praying that this miracle can hold on until the end.”

Kanamori made the pose of a senior and spoke to Kotetsu in an even mannered tone.

Haganezuka and his potential partner got close to the tree the two were hiding behind. Kotetsu and Kanamori immediately held their breaths and shrank their bodies until they could not become any smaller.

The two stopped in their steps.

Then….

“—Haganezuka-san.”

The lady spoke in dead earnest.

“I have a request.”

Her tone was extremely serious as though she had made some kind of decision.

“ ………Ye, yes?”

Haganezuka was so nervous his shoulders stiffened up.

Was this finally the moment? The two sneaking a peek from their cover behind the tree both swallowed their saliva.

“After the chat we had just now, I have fully understood how high of a regard you hold for your sword smithing job, Haganezuka-san.”

“Is, is that so?”

Haganezuka’s voice suddenly became brighter. “However—” the lady continued to speak:

“Swords are already a thing of the past.”

The lady showed a pleasing smile.

“No one uses swords in this era already. So, why not make chef knives from now on, or even tools? I don’t wish for my dear husband to make barbaric objects such as swords.”

The lady said so in a straightforward manner and Haganezuka froze on the spot.

The two who were eavesdropping were also stunned….and the blood quickly drained from their faces.

“Crap!! This is bad!! She can’t say such a thing in front of Haganezuka-san!”

To that man – Haganezuka Hotaru – who loved swords more than anyone else, this was the most forbidden of forbidden statements.

In the worst-case scenario, he might even kill someone with his own hands.

Then the swordsmith village would be finished.

“Kotetsu-boy, if things go south, please take that woman and run. I will tickle Haganezuka-san’s armpits and use my utmost efforts to open a path for the two of you.”

“I understand. Kanamori-san, please do not die.”

Kotetsu and Kanamori became nervous.

Yet, after a long while, Haganezuka did not make any sound.

“Umm……Haganezuka-san?” Seeing that Haganezuka had quietly lowered his head, the woman opened her mouth to ask.

Then—

“….is someone.”

Haganezuka said in a whisper:

“There is someone using what you call barbaric swords, putting his life on the line to battle for the sake of people he does not even know.”

“………Eh?”

“Even if he was riddled with injuries, he continued to charge forward. No matter what kind of predicament he was facing, he still continued to fight without yielding. I am lucky I can make a sword that protects lives for that person. I am proud to be a blacksmith.”

“………………”

“Excuse me, please pretend this never happened.”

The woman could not speak.

A cold wind blew past between the two.

Haganezuka was very calm.

Even though the woman looked down on the swords he loved greatly, he did not scold her on impulse.

He only quietly rejected her.

The reason definitely involved his pride as a swordsmith as well as his bond with a certain Demon Slayer.

–Haganezuka’s matchmaking session quietly came to an end.

*

“Sigh, this is considered fate as well. Just try again next time.”

The village head was still optimistic.

“Let me see. Which girl should I choose this time~?”

He happily chose another matchmaking potential from a stack of photos.

“……forget it….I have my swords anyway….”

On the contrary, it had already been a few days since the end of the matching making session, but Haganezuka still lay on the tatami mats in a slovenly manner.

“You have a huge build, stop blocking the way. It’s annoying.”

Kotetsu retorted with his usual tone and then placed a plate full of Mitarashi Dango onto the table lightly.

“Here, Tanjirou-san sent Mitarashi Dango over again. Eat these and get your spirits back.”

“Yeah, Haganezuka. Isn’t it great that you can make swords for such a kind and caring Slayer? For a swordsmith, that is the greatest fortune.”

“Hmph, of course it’s something he should do….that guy did trample on my hard work.”

“Alright, stop making a fuss. Let me pour you some tea.”

Once he finished speaking, Kanamori poured tea into Haganezuka’s teacup.

“Wow, the tea stem is standing straight up. Haganezuka, this is a good omen.” Kanamori said happily. There really was a complete tea stem standing upright in the teacup.

“You definitely will be successful during the next matchmaking session.”

However, not long after the joyful moment, Haganezuka became angry for some peculiar reason.

“When the tea stem stands straight up, one has to secretly finish the entire cup! You have ruined it! How are you going to pay me back?!”

“Eh?!”

“If things don’t go well during the next matchmaking session I go for, it’s all your fault!! Take responsibility!”

That was far too unreasonable, wasn’t it? Kanamori could not help but be bewildered by the situation.

“….How did you raise such a rotten personality?”

Kanamori blamed the village head.

“Didn’t you say that he was almost forty so it has nothing to do with the way he was raised already?”

“I did say that but he’s ridiculous. If I had put it bluntly, he’s human scum!”

“It has nothing to do with me~”

Tecchin abandoned his responsibilities as the foster parent and turned away his face that was covered with a Hyokotto mask as though he was not part of the issue.

Kotetsu helplessly sighed under his mask.

(However….it’s not as though Haganezuka-san did not make any progress.)

Seeing how Haganezuka lectured the beautiful lady who looked down on swords, it made him delighted. It was too cool.

Those words were full of responsibility and honour as a swordsmith. As someone who was from this hidden village, from the same profession, Kotetsu could not help but feel deeply moved.

Getting to know that youth who believed in the sword he made and who entrusted his own life to him, could actually let this isolated man undergo such a huge change.

–Because of that.

(….Gods, when there is a day that Haganezuka-san can turn over a new leaf and rid himself of that rotten to the core personality of his, please bestow him with a gentle wife who can understand his love for swords.)

Even though that could be something that only happened many years later, Kotetsu still prayed within his heart that Haganezuka Hotaru can find his own spring–

(bo : manga readers know that he did 🙂)