#no one owes you reclamation

[theoneandonlynikki]

It's all about supporting LGBTQ people until someone points out the fact that some people don't want to be called queer, and that it's very ironic of you to be forcing a label onto someone.

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

Mo Dao Zu Shi and Self-Yearning For Reconciliation

There is an overarching lesson within the writing of MXTX that forgiveness and moving on doesn't entail non-verbal consent for a relationship to be salvaged once more or reclaimed as it used to be.

Within SVSSS, we are given the character of Yue Qingyuan desperately seeking the friendship and brotherhood he had with Shen Jiu. Only for that relationship to be provided by another way of Shen Yuan who finalizes he is not the man Yue Qingyuan needed closure from, but is the only one able to give it for the man to find peace with his own choices.

To a lesser extent this is also shown with the relationship between Xie Lian, Mu Qing and Feng Xin at the end of TGCF. This time though, despite Xie Lian associating with them with no ill will, he does not let either man make choices for him and resoundingly makes his own boundaries aware within the reclamation of their friendship.

MDZS does not offer this reclamation of a friendship or the start of one previously lost with another. Unlike the previous two who did yearn for friendship what was between Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian had been a stipulation of burden and assumption that started with Jiang Fengmian. Jiang Cheng was to see Wei Wuxian as a servant made friend when brought in, and Wei Wuxian was protector over friend. There was already a set imbalance due to neither naturally being able to choose the roles within their lives for the other and extending parties stating who and what they were to each other.

Jiang Cheng in his already tenuous esteem with himself and resentment of being told he was already viewed as less from his mother, took Wei Wuxian's existence in his life as a displacement of his own claims within life. His sacrifice of his dogs was the precursor for the beginning of their relationship on the allusion of debts between them.

Jiang Cheng gives up the loyalty of a literal pet, for the loyalty of an eventual man. In other words, I will shelter and protect you in exchange. Jiang Cheng does keep to this as children, with the expense of mocking Wei Wuxian's fears as he is want. His stipulations for this begun to escalate over the years and as such the giving of shelter and safety cannot be made up for Jiang Cheng, forever loyalty is now not enough, but why must Wei Wuxian also be adept at cultivation, why is he to be praised for his deeds more so, why must Wei Wuxian be a bright mind of the war.

If he is to be that, it at least would be overshadowed that he is still only under Jiang Cheng's rule. Otherwise every other action against this, is to demean Jiang Cheng, to oppose him, to cause trouble with ingratitude. It is also why, despite Wen Qing and Wen Ning having sheltered him and Wei Wuxian as well as collected his parents and provided their ashes, Jiang Cheng is able to disregard his obligation to help them. If not for Wei Wuxian's supposed insubordination, Jiang Cheng would not have suffered his own losses. Even when he did protect Wei Wuxian, the loss of it was too much, as with the dogs he had given up as a child, he did not get an active said promise of more dedication made up tenfold for the minimum kindness exhibited by Jiang Cheng. As said by Fang Mengcheng, "Atonement? You cannot actually be feeling grateful to him!”

To want to be good and to protect others, must come with selfish want for exemption of guilt for the harm you have caused. Wen Ning and Wen Qing owed it to Jiang Cheng for the deaths of his parents for carrying the surname of Wen, as such he did not need to repay them. Wei Wuxian sat at the table of the Jiangs and was given a living others would envy, as such he owed his life to Jiang Cheng. Wei Wuxian taking on the burden of protecter of another, was a betrayal of all that Jiang Cheng's lineage had gave him. To do the impossible because it is right, is not worth the self emulation and ridicule of the many. And while he may resent that kindness in Wei Wuxian, for it to be given to others as well, is a lack of loyalty of the ideals of Jiang Cheng. Jiang Cheng's growing resentment of Wei Wuxian's choice of kindness over safety, is a a mirrored resentment that Jiang Cheng holds within himself and his lack of respect for his own Clan ideals. A servant under the lord of the house embodies what Jiang Cheng was born to be.

As he throws abuse upon Wei Wuxian at their penultimate clash, while he does say sorry, he is still unable to view it without the veil of debt owed between each other. As Wei Wuxian could not tell him he gave him his core out of pity for his ego to keep him from shattering, Jiang Cheng could not say he protected Wei Wuxian out of a moment of kindness without care for the consequences until it expounded as his reality.

There is a self soothing mechanism, that opening up to truths will eventually mean a mending of what had been, or the beginning of something better. Yet this is only true when both are open to stand together as equals. Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng began with obligation and ended with obligation. The obligation to give for doing, the obligation of sorry for redemption.The obligation of servitude for sacrifice.

To rebuild and start again is meant to be the closure of ill will and the understanding of boundaries that cannot be crossed now. Jiang Cheng can only do one but not the other. He chooses hate for his continued nature, even while he is adamantly protecting Jin Ling by the end. While Wei Wuxian knows that resentment is not something that will create true happiness and nurturing growth that people strive for.

Reconciliation is to come to terms with that which you lacked, and to be more, to be better. Jiang Cheng accepts his core nature of resentment which would not last next to the altruism that Wei Wuxian chooses more than once. Kindness and Resentment cannot coexist at the same time. To resent is to be cruel, to be happy is to be kind. Both men are too tired to understand the other, and why they choose to part as a peace offering, an understanding that they will never thrive with the other.

[olderthannetfic]

Part of growing older and considering oneself some kind of “elder” rather than just simply an older person is maturity and patience. I think many people, including you OTNF, are being quite immature with how hostile you’re being towards this chosenwads person.

When you find yourself typing things like “You are embarrassing” to people asking genuine, good faith questions, maybe it’s time to take a breather and simply stop responding. You know, basic emotional regulation.

When you guys get older, we will be the ones explaining stuff to younger people. I don’t think this chosenwads person is sea lioning. I think they’re asking reasonable questions about reclamation, queer history, and morality. Either explain your position without stooping to insults or stop responding.

Here’s my genuine question: when you were younger, did people twenty years older than you insulting you and calling you an idiot actually convince you of anything or increase your respect for them?

--

You seem to have mistaken my blog for a public service or a school.

This is my personal tumblr for screaming about HeiHua or whatever catches my fancy. It's just that in my case, that involves a fair amount of longform text with punctuation, so people get confused and entitled.

If somebody behaves like a bull in a china shop, they're going to suffer the social consequences. It's not an intentional punishment or moral retribution: it's how socializing works.

As for "good faith"... Well... I agree none of those questions were self-aware-ly malicious, but at the point you're like "Yes, but the authority you just said you found unreliable did a lot of research so I'm going to ignore what you just said and repeat my dumb point" and repeatedly asking to be spoon-fed information, you're not really operating in good faith.

Disagreeing is fine.

Expecting other people's time to belong to you is not good faith.

Even if they've already given you some time, it doesn't indicate that they owe you even more ad infinitum.

And that's what's going on here, especially in the ten thousand replies.

[dujour13]

Secret Santa gift for my friend @offsidekineticist. Happy Holidays! 💕☃️💕

I hope you know I had to enlist the aid of both Ophenia and Woljif to piece this story together. Oh, that reminds me—(Siavash digs in his vest pocket and produces one silver bracelet, twelve gold pieces and a Chelish noble house signet ring)—with Woljif’s apologies. No questions asked about the ring.

I hope I got the main story beats right enough for art.

The half-orc druid I eventually tracked down in the Aspodell mountains told me Qweck was involved, but even my utmost attempts at diplomacy couldn’t prevent Qweck from slamming the door in my face, so I’m not sure where she fits into the story. There was also apparently a dinosaur? Or a golem made of dinosaurs? Anyway, here it is, as promised.

(He takes a sip of mulled Andoren wine and gives you a wink as he begins.)

🎶 The Ballad of Bellflower Hellfire 🎶

The Devil went down to Cheliax, she was lookin’ for a soul to steal She was biding her time at the scene of the crime In a gem that was magically sealed When Gil came across that necklace, offering vengeance and serving it hot And the devil grabbed hold of his heart in her claws And said boy lemme tell you what I guess you’ll do ‘bout anything to give them slavers their due And if you vow to serve me now I’ll lend a hand to you Now you’d make a damn fine Bellflower, boy All I ask is a soul or two I’ll bet the slaves you’ll free are worth that fee And it was true for all he knew And so the halfling set about with the fury of Hell in his hands Without a regret started paying his debts Freed his folk from their iron bands (Chorus) Gilly sharpen up your wits and fight that devil hard Cause Hell’s broke loose in Cheliax and the devil deals the cards And if you win you get the peace and freedom that you’re owed But if you lose the devil gets your soul Twas a rainy night in Brastlewark and Thay sat with his book And he heard the sound of rustlin’ around and went to have a look There stood Gil ‘bout to catch a chill And Thay in his distress, said come on down, you look half drowned And bundled Gil up good And thus began the heart-bond ‘tween the halfling and the gnome In the shadow of Thrune their sweet love bloomed, over cocoa snug at home (There’s a break with romantic picking, then a shift to an ominous chord) Til one dark day the news reached Gil that made his heart stop cold The iron glove of Hell came down and crushed all Gilly’s hope The Hellknights came, they were taking names, Mister Theo was their prey Gil shed tears of grief and rage - the Rack had taken Thay And Gil like Hell’s own vengeance on the wings of dragon black Rained down on Rivad fury and fire and laid to waste the Rack The only reclamation that was glorious that day Was Gil who stormed the citadel and rescued poor dear Thay (Chorus) Gilly sharpen up your wits and fight that devil hard Cause Hell’s broke loose in Cheliax and the devil deals the cards And if you win you get the peace and freedom that you’re owed But if you lose the devil gets your soul Thay in gloom of dungeon hoped for nought but Ph’rasma’s grace He held his ground, made not a sound as tears fell down his face The Rack had wrought their cruel work and yet his lips were sealed All he cared to pray for was an end to his ordeal When a signifier’s shattered mask was tossed between the bars And Theo raised his eyes and hope rekindled in his heart A little short for a Hellknight, Theo said through tears of joy Though they were trapped within the citadel the righteous would destroy In a desperate race for freedom the heroes stumbled toward the gates Paladins and Hellknights laid the citadel to waste As knights closed round Gil stood his ground o’er Theo’s tortured form As in his breast the fires of Hell let loose in violent storm (from this crescendo the tempo slows, becomes soulful) When Theo felt the heat of Hell and raised his heavy head And saw that Gil had rescued him but damned himself instead With failing limbs he lifted up and braved the flames of Dis To wrestle Gil from the Devil’s grasp and free him… with True Love’s Kiss (Chorus) Gilly sharpen up your wits and fight that devil hard Cause Hell’s broke loose in Cheliax and the devil deals the cards And if you win you get the peace and freedom that you’re owed But if you lose the devil gets your soul

---

Note: Modeled after “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” by the Charlie Daniels Band

[swan-of-sunrise]

Taking Care of Business (Chapter Forty-Three)

Summary: In the wake of Moff Gideon’s defeat, (Y/N) and Din officially adopt Grogu as their son and the family bids farewell to Bo-Katan before seeking out an old friend.

Pairing: Din Djarin X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: This chapter’s a little shorter than the last few, but that’s only because I’m saving even more fluff for the last chapter! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Forty-Three The Adoption (Previous Chapter)

The week after the Mandalorians’ defeat of Moff Gideon and the reclamation of their homeworld from the Empire was marked by a ceremony at the bank of the Living Waters; the Mandalorians – the covert, the former mercenaries and the survivors of the Siege – gathered to allow the Armorer to baptize them in the sacred water and to speak the Mandalorian Creed as a way of reaffirming their vows. Due to (Y/N)’s partially-healed leg wound, Clan Mudhorn was the last to arrive at the Living Waters, much to her embarrassment despite Din’s kind and reasonable assurances.

“You were wounded in battle against one of our people’s greatest enemies, alor’ad,” Din reminded her as he held her steady with an arm looped around her waist and helped her limp down the uneven tunnel to the Living Waters. “I’m sure that the others won’t mind us being a little late.”

“Well, my mother used to say ‘early is on-time, and on-time is late;’ the Naboo pride themselves on their punctuality, after all.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Grogu – who was nestled comfortably in the crook of Din’s left elbow – lift one of his clawed hands and aim it towards her bandaged leg, and she gave him a pointed look. “No, Grogu. It’s sweet that you wanna use your Force-healing on me but trust me, I’ve dealt with worse blaster wounds than this one; besides, you still need to regain your strength after what you did last week.”

Grogu cooed in reluctant agreement and lowered his hand while the side of Din’s helmet gently tapped against the side of her head. The sound of drums filled the air as the clan of three stepped into the cavernous chamber that housed the Living Waters of Mandalore, which was now illuminated by several lanterns and adorned with tribal banners; Mandalorians stood at attention on either side of the chamber, and all were wearing their helmets as a sign of respect. The Armorer stood knee-high in the dark water and held a small stone basin in her gloved hands, turning around to watch Ragnar, the foundling of their fallen ally and friend, kneel on the steps before her. (Y/N)’s heart clenched in sympathy for the child and while they waited by the entrance of the chamber, Din’s hand subtly flexed against her waist; everyone here owes their life to Paz Vizsla, she thought to herself as she recalled the Mandalorian’s noble sacrifice, and everyone will repay that debt by ensuring Ragnar grows up safe and protected.

“I swear on my name and the names of the Ancestors…”

“I swear on my name and the names of the Ancestors…” Ragnar recited.

“That I shall walk the Way of the Mand’alor…”

“That I shall walk the Way of the Mand’alor…”

“And the words of the Creed shall be forever forged in my heart.”

“And the words of the Creed shall be forever forged in my heart.”

When he finished, he bowed his head and the Armorer poured the basin of water onto his beskar helmet. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way,” The assembled Mandalorians echoed.

Sharing a reassuring look, (Y/N) and Din waited for Ragnar to join the others before starting forward towards the steps. Bo-Katan, whose helmet was already decorated with droplets of water, gave them a nod of respect when they passed her and (Y/N) flashed her friend a nervous smile. They descended the steps together and her husband made sure she was stable before letting go of her waist and bending down to set Grogu down on the damp steps.

“Grogu is my apprentice. He is no longer a foundling.” Din’s modulated voice was filled with self-assurance as he continued. “Add him to the Song.”

The Armorer shook her head. “He is too young to speak, so he is too young to take the Creed. He must remain a foundling.”

Grogu cooed and lowered his head in disappointment and (Y/N) struggled to resist the overwhelming urge to scoop him up into her arms, but Din was seemingly unperturbed by the Armorer’s words. “If his parent gave permission, couldn’t he then become a Mandalorian apprentice?”

“Yes, but his parents are far from here, if they are even alive.”

In that instant, realization dawned on (Y/N) and her head whipped around to meet the visor of her husband’s helmet; although she couldn’t see his face, she knew the Mandalorian well enough to determine exactly what he was thinking and after a moment, a bright smile spread across her face. “Then we will adopt him as our own,” She replied, her eyes remaining fixed on Din’s covered gaze as she reached over to slip her hand into his.

In her peripheral vision, she watched the Armorer give them both a deep nod. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way,” Din and (Y/N) replied in unison and when she glanced down, Grogu was beaming up at them both.

“Let it be written in Song that Din Djarin and (Y/N) (Y/L/N) are accepting this foundling as their son.” With a hint of pride in her modulated voice, the Armorer looked out at the gathered Mandalorians and addressed the child. “You are now Din Grogu, Mandalorian apprentice.”

“This is the Way.”

Grogu happily nodded and the Armorer turned to face Din. “You must leave Mandalore and take your apprentice on his journeys, just as your teacher did for you.”

Din nodded. “This is the Way.” Bending down, he scooped Grogu up and (Y/N) smiled when his clawed hand rested against the beskar covering Din’s cheek. “Grogu. Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad.” When he noticed (Y/N)’s confused expression, he softly explained, “It’s a Mandalorian adoption vow; it means ‘I know your name as my child.’ It’s something…something I should’ve spoken a long, long time ago.”

(Y/N)’s eyes prickled with unshed tears as she smoothed a hand over the child’s wrinkled head and met his gaze. “Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad, Grogu.” Beside her, Din released a shuddering breath and she nervously bit her lip. “Did I say that right? Mando’a’s pretty difficult to pronounce-”

“It was perfect, alor’ad.” While the Mandalorians began to file out of the chamber, Din pressed his forehead against hers in a Keldabe Kiss and gently squeezed her hand. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasumm, ner cyar’ika riduur.”

She brushed her lips against the beskar covering his mouth as her free hand cradled the side of his helmet. “And I love you too, my honorable Mandalorian.”

“So, I guess this is it.” They looked over to see Bo-Katan standing at the top of the steps, her helmet resting against her hip as a smile played on her lips. “What’re you guys gonna do now?”

(Y/N) tilted her head to the side and considered the Nite Owl’s question. “We haven’t really decided yet, but I suppose we’ll have plenty of time to figure it out on our way to Adelphi.”

“A lot of rumors are gonna start spreading about what happened here, and it’ll be good for Mandalore if Captain Teva and the New Republic hears the truth before the stories,” Din added before helping (Y/N) ascend the damp steps to where Bo-Katan stood. “Thanks to the leadership of Bo-Katan Kryze, Mandalore once again belongs to the Mandalorians and the galaxy is free of Moff Gideon’s influence once and for all.”

Bo-Katan’s cheeks flushed pink as she scoffed at Din’s words. “Well, don’t sell yourselves too short on my account. All of this? It just wouldn’t be possible without you three landing on Kalevala and showing me that I still had a purpose. I don’t know if I can ever repay you for that.”

Taking a step forward, (Y/N) wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug and smiled to herself when she immediately returned her embrace. “There’s nothing to repay, Bo. You were meant to lead your people, just as we were meant to help you reclaim Mandalore.”

When (Y/N) pulled away, Din offered the Nite Owl his hand and nodded as she tightly clasped it. “Take care of yourself, Bo. If you need anything, we’re only a holo-call away.”

Grogu cooed and gave Bo-Katan a small wave, and she chuckled as she blinked away her tears. “I’ll miss you too, kid. May the Force be with you.”

With one final smile, Bo-Katan turned and strode out of the chamber after the rest of the Mandalorians, radiating self-assurance with each step she took and looking every bit the leader that Mandalore deserved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After their long week on Mandalore, the sunshine and warm air of Adelphi was a treat and as (Y/N) piloted the N-1 starfighter down onto the New Republic’s landing pad, she admired the waves gently lapping at the sandy beaches and the lush green foliage framing the rocky hills in the distance. It’s not hard to see why the New Republic established an outpost on this planet, she thought to herself as Din helped her descend from the starfighter.

“We’ll be back in a few, R5!” (Y/N) called out to the astromech droid and gave him a small wave before accepting her husband’s gloved hand and gesturing for Grogu to follow them as they walked towards the Quonset hut that housed a lounge bar for the New Republic pilots. “Captain Teva’s X-Wing is here, so that’s good. Do you think he’s expecting us?”

“I’d be surprised if he wasn’t.” Din matched her slower pace and glanced down at the child toddling happily beside them. “The kid’s gonna get a real surprise when we land on Nevarro and don’t immediately leave.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “The little guy’s definitely spent more time in space than on any one planet, but I think he’ll be okay. He’s our son, after all.”

Her husband’s fingers threaded around her own and gave her hand a loving squeeze as the Quonset doors slid open to reveal the lounge bar. New Republic X-Wing pilots were drinking and chatting amongst themselves at the tables, playing table games and changing the music on the jukebox in the back, and Captain Carson Teva was nursing a glass of spotchka as he leaned against the bar and gave them a jaunty smile. “Let me buy you a drink.”

(Y/N) shook her head and allowed Din to help her slide onto one of the nearby barstools. “Thanks, but we’re here on business.”

“We really appreciate what you two did.” Captain Teva watched in amusement as Grogu jumped up onto the bar and began snacking on a bowl of nuts. “You made our jobs a lot easier.”

Din merely shrugged his armored shoulders. “We’ve all been chasing Moff Gideon. You would’ve gotten him eventually; my wife and I just got there first.”

A string of excited babbles drew their attention towards Grogu, who was pointing at the helmets and severed droid heads suspended above the bar, and (Y/N) realized why he was so enthusiastic when she spotted the old IG-11 head resting beside a slashed Stormtrooper helmet. “Your kid sure likes the trophies.”

“It’s not him, kid.” Din turned back to face the officer and explained, “One of them reminds him of someone he knew.” Captain Teva nodded in understanding and after seeing the encouraging smile on (Y/N)’s face, the Mandalorian continued. “We have a business proposition.”

The officer’s brow arched. “Shoot.”

“This youngling is my apprentice.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“I’m a bounty hunter by trade; now that he’s with us, I’ll be more selective in my assignments.” One of Din’s hands rested on the small of (Y/N)’s back as he leaned against the bar beside her. “We were offered a tract of land on Nevarro by High Magistrate Karga, and we’ve decided to accept it.”

“Go on.”

“You don’t have the resources to protect the Outer Rim, let alone hunt down Imperial remnants.” (Y/N)’s smile widened when the officer reluctantly nodded in agreement. “And we need work.”

Captain Teva smirked at that. “Let me get this straight: you two want to work for the New Republic?”

“On a case-by-case basis,” Din corrected. “Independent contractors.”

(Y/N) nodded. “I’m a seamstress by trade and now that we’re settling down on Nevarro, I was considering taking commissions. That way, I can split my time between my sewing and our assignments.”

“You and I both know this is against regulation, Captain (Y/L/N). It’ll never get approved.”

There was amusement in Din’s modulated voice as he replied, “Which is why you won’t tell them.”

The officer sighed and finished off the rest of his spotchka. “Let me think about it.”

“You already did,” Din chuckled. “It’s a good deal and you know it.”

“Is that so?”

“My husband is the most skilled bounty hunter on this side of the galaxy, and I couldn’t have saved as many civilians as I did during the Rebellion without being one hell of a smuggler.” Leaning back in her seat, (Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest and didn’t bother masking her confident grin with a more modest expression. “In the meantime, all we require is a small advance.”

Din, catching onto what (Y/N) was planning, nodded in agreement and pointed to the severed IG-11 head. “What we want in return is that.”

Captain Teva’s brow furrowed. “A scrap assassin droid head?”

“Mm-hmm, we need it for parts.”

With a small head-shake, the officer slid off his barstool and after a quick word with the bartender, he retrieved the severed IG-11 head for them and they bid their friend goodbye, all three of them comprehending the unspoken arrangement that had just taken place: (Y/N) and Din would selectively accept assignments secretly sent to them by Captain Teva, and their apprehension of rogue Imperial commanders and destruction of any remnants of the Empire would help bring security to the fledgling New Republic. A peaceful life on Nevarro sprinkled with adventure and a little bit of danger, she thought as she cradled the droid’s head against her chest and walked alongside her husband and son towards the starfighter, sounds like a perfect work-life balance to me.

“…So, you really think I’m the most skilled bounty hunter on this side of the galaxy?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and heaved an exasperated sigh even as her lips curved into a reluctant smile. “I do…but that doesn’t mean I suddenly think that bounty hunters are better than smugglers. I guess all those rumors about bounty hunters needing their skills validated all the time must be true.”

“And I can’t believe that smugglers’ egos are so easily threatened by some competition.”

Grogu giggled and jumped up into the cockpit as (Y/N) shot Din a playful glare. “Mir’sheb.”

“I love you too, alor’ad.” With a chuckle, Din’s gloved hand caressed her cheek before moving to rest on the small of her back to help her climb into the cockpit. “Now, let’s go home…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mando’a Translations:

Alor’ad-Captain Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad-I know your name as my child (adoption vow) Ni kyr’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika riduur-I love you, my darling wife Mir’sheb-Smart-ass

A/N: And now we’ve only got one more chapter to go! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! Oh, and I’ve created a Spotify playlist of all my favorite music from the world of Star Wars, so if you’re interested in checking it out the link is down below!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2KuSKJhVOPPvxdJ9YHeo4M?si=2977ff31bf0c4bdd

Chapter Forty-Four Taking Care of Business Masterlist

Tagging: @remmysbounty @sinon36 @seninjakitey​ @thatonedindjarinfan​ @ginger-swag-rapunzel​ @mostclevermiss​ @momc95​ @welcometothepedroverse​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @elinedjarin​ @ccomandercody​ @crowleysqueenofhell​  @goldielocks2004 @wondergal2001​ @groovyqueer​ @impala1967666​ @fluffy-canada-pancakes​ @icee228​ @siimiasoi​

[choirstaidhiona]

This Barbie Cries In Public, or I Wish I Could Show My Mum The Barbie Movie

Like everyone else in the world, I recently saw the Barbie Movie! I also saw Oppenheimer, in the cursed double bill of the century, and it's taken me days to process both of them and all the BigFeelingsTM That have come up from both, so in my first actual considered and proper blog post on this website since I was the world's angriest teenager, I'll be sharing them, alongside some thoughts about grief and gender and all that really fun and not miserable at all stuff.

Part 1. Barbie Girl

I was born in 1996, a weirdly large baby constantly dressed in pink and lace and frills, as my mum would say, "a proper girl". I loved dolls; baby dolls, Barbie dolls, Bratz dolls, doll house dolls, paper garland dolls I made whenever i had a sheet of printer paper handy for years of my life, Polly Pockets, those weird off-brand dolls you'd get in corner shops and chemists for some reason, all of them. I loved dolls. I still love dolls. I made a film last year where i painted dolls and animated them and it was sad and about childhood and death and memory. I used to film my Barbie Princess and The Pauper dolls singing together and I made a music video of it on my Karaoke machine, rigged up to my pink TV. I was, in short, A Barbie Girl.

When Bratz appeared in the supermarkets of Greenock, I remember the shift happening really clearly. I was in Primary 5 or 6 and my Grandad had died, Baby's First Big Death, and I drew everyone pictures of the outfits I'd dreamed up for my Bratz dolls, transfixed by their big mouths and big eyes and the way their clothes sat on their bodies. Drawing pictures for people made them happy. Drawing pictures for people made them tell me I was clever. Drawing pictures for people gave me a task and gave me a focus. I loved Bratz dolls because Barbie was too boring. I was getting too old for fairies and princesses (note: I have since regressed), Mattel's fixation of the era, since Barbie had already been a Doctor and a President long before I met her, and I didn't know she had all these cool talents and past careers. To me, she was part of a personal era I was moving on from. Bratz dolls didn't have jobs, they were like Ken from the Barbie movie, but their job wasn't Beach, it was Gorgeous. I don't think it's a coincidence that this was the era I'd been told specifically that there was something wrong with me by other girls for the first time.

I grew up in Gàidhlig Medium Education, a sectioned-off and sheltered part of the Scottish Education System that I owe my life to, I would not have survived, weirdness and spirit intact, in any other school, and I know that for a fact. I'd entered GME at 2 and 10 months old and left school at 18, having only known classrooms where everyone was a bit different because we belonged to this sort of movement of cultural reclamation. My only prolonged interactions with "The English" (the rest of our classmates from the English speaking part of our primary school, the ones not in the Gaelic unit) came at the end of primary school, when we started learning French together as a whole year group. It's not an exaggeration to say that GME kids were bullied appallingly by "The English", including a lot of the old-school teachers. I'll go into this properly another time, but I do think that I saw in Bratz the kind of aspirational teenhood I hoped would be beyond my late primary school experience of being othered- being edgy, wearing cool outfits, having boobs, and most of all, working at gorgeous.

Part 2. Oppenheimer Teen

Think of the most catastrophically annoying and angry kid you knew growing up, that was me. And I lived here, on Tumblr, blogging my early teens away - being not like other girls, then being radicalised by third wave feminism. Learning about queerness, and realising I wasn't just the best ally of life, I actually fancied by best friend. Discovering that the square root of happiness was hunger, (i mean this ironically, it's very much not) and documenting my ever growing thigh gap... all of it. I wanted to tear everything down. I gave this section the title of Oppenheimer Teen because I thought it would be funny, but honestly, I was more like the atomic bomb.

I'd long since been informed that playing with dolls wasn't okay anymore, it was embarrassing and for babies, and the only femininity I was happy to take part in was a half-understood Kinderwhore version of it. Everything i embodied in this era was based on Courtney Love's babydoll dresses, red lips, and bleached hair. The first time I bleached mine, it broke my mum's heart. She had breast cancer and was losing her shiny brown hair, while I was turning mine into custard-coloured chewing gum with 40 vol at the bathroom sink. I didn't want to be pretty because I didn't know how to be without being ridiculed for trying, I was hurt, and I was scared, and my mum was sick and my boyfriend was evil, and Jesus, I was so hungry all the time. Eventually, after about two years of starting fights I couldn't finish, and drinking 70cls of straight vodka while looking men (teenage boys) in the eye, and reading the communist manifesto on the 6am Gourock train home after parties I'm still processing in therapy, my mum got the all-clear. I dumped the boy who was abusing me, who by this time was a grown man, I dyed my hair pink, and green, and blue... and I met the first of the girls who would start to save my life, while we were drawing pictures and dressing up at art camp.

3. Actually Talking About The Barbie Movie

Every year that I haven't been a teenager has been better than the one before, this is something I've told every teenage girl who has ever told me she's worried about growing up, and I've seen a wave of calm wash over her face every time. I really saw myself in the angry, clever, moody group of teenagers Barbie meets in the school canteen when she arrives in our world. Sasha, who I think we've all realised/read by now was named for the Bratz doll along with her friends, tells her she doesn't represent her, she's let her down, she's old news!! This was how pink and sparkly girlishness felt to me at that age, I didn't look like Barbie anymore, and the girls who did were making my life hell. I had acne, and my period lasted three weeks at a time, and being a girl wasn't fun anymore. Everyone just cared about which Ken they were getting off with, meanwhile I'd just realised that death existed, and one day would come back and finish the job and take my mum away, what the fuck was Barbie fucking grinning about?

Her spiralling existential crisis throughout the film was truly jarring, only because I remember those exact moments of girlhood. I remember being 11, lying on the floor and crying and feeling like it would never stop. I remember being 8 and noticing my belly was rounder than the other girls at ballet. I remember sweating after a game of rounders at 10 and realising I stank and feeling like I was malfunctioning. I remember being so angry for a whole year when I was 9 that I wanted to bite people. I remember every time I wasn't being a "proper girl", and how I saw on everyone's face that they felt it too. I remember every time I realised that I wasn't perfect anymore, just like Barbie does, and that I just wasn't the way I was made anymore. And they still feel like fresh wounds, fresh failures, despite what 2012 Tumblr feminism taught me.

I've seen Tiktoks from the current generation of internet teens discussing how the film wasn't radical enough in its feminism, and I get it, to an extent. When you've been an Oppenheimer Teen - fighting boys about how they treat their girlfriends that you're secretly a bit in love with, spending your whole life placing your value in your intelligence and your rage so as not to be someone's Barbie, making online friends all over the world because no one gets you, reading feminist lit while your classmates are excited about YA Fiction - Gloria's monologue, the climax of the film's mission statement, feels like "okay, and??" And as I said, I was Sasha, eviscerating femininity for what it had done to me. But as I grow up, not a (Barbie) Girl, not yet at all a woman (I'm non binary, knowing that is vital to understanding that joke), but also no longer an Oppenheimer Teen, I see the spaces that the powerful, vengeful feminism of my youth is missing.

Every time my friends are mistreated by men who are supposed to love them, there is a beat before they remember who they are where they think they deserve it. We constantly wonder if we're over reacting to our own trauma. We lose weight through grief and are told we look great and we say thank you, and sometimes we mean it. We fear taking up space even though we can't help it. We wonder if we should go for jobs that we aren't technically qualified for, even though we have degrees and years of experience to contradict our gut feelings of inadequacy. We are clever, bright, talented people, but those of us who have a girlhood in our pasts have a unique never-quite-healed injury. It's like a broken ankle from falling off a trampoline when you were 10 that aches in cold weather even now, the ankle you always go over when you're drunk in heels. I didn't know I'd grow up and get less angry. I didn't know I'd pick my battles eventually like everyone kept telling me to at 15, instead of waging war on everyone. I didn't know there would be a day that life would figure out how to make me small. I thought I had shut up the Barbie Girl I once was by outsmarting her, but my heart is still baby pink, strawberry scented, and covered in sparkles, and it always will be.

When i sat there, bathed in pink light, surrounded by mums and daughters, best friends, sisters, queers who never got to be Barbie Girls but desperately wanted to be, grannies, and aunties, and tiny girls who have no idea how much their hearts are about to be broken, I held my friend Isla's hand and i kissed it and wiped tears off my cheeks, because we were all there, together, in the middle of the afternoon on a Monday, living not in a Barbie world, but the real one. The really shit one. And the biggest cinematic event of our lives was telling us we were right, and it wasn't our fault, and we didn't make it all up for attention, we weren't rude or bossy or difficult, we were traumatised and hurt and tired. The children we were who played with dolls, cutting off their hair before we were allowed to mess up our own, had been let down.

4. Still Talking About The Barbie Movie, But Also Talking About My Mum.

Nearly a month ago, my mum died. She had a brain tumour, diagnosed a decade after she had the all clear from breast cancer. These two acts of evil by the universe were unrelated, it wasn't a secondary tumour related to her first one, it was just bad luck. She had been sick for years, and before that she was sick in different ways for years, so it wasn't a shock, but it has forced me into a new era of my life in a way I wasn't ready for. Just like growing up.

My mum was born in poverty in the 1960s in the West of Scotland, and by the time I came along her life was a dreamscape compared to what she had once known. We had a standard, comfortable-enough, but still working-class life, but we lived in her Barbie Dream House. I got my love of clothes and dressing up from her, the colour palette of my life from her, and my internal monologue from her. We spent most of our time together until I moved to Glasgow at 19, even when I was raging and destructive, because she was sick, and because she knew I wasn't going to be that way forever. She had been a wee girl once, too. She knew why I wanted to bite people.

The moment in the Barbie Movie where Ruth Handler says "We mothers stand still so our daughters can look back to see how far they've come” launched into my chest like a fist and winded me. I was holding my friend Isla's hand at this point, too, she knew why I was crying and she cried too. I know this line was likely intended to be about career and the choices afforded to older women in the past, and the choices afforded now to mothers vs fathers, about the sacrifices of mothers and the love they send their creations, us, off into the world knowing, but my mum's own stillness was suddenly phrased in a new way, and it hurt. I don't want to look back on photos and videos to see where I left her, I want her to be dressed up in pink and glitter to go to the cinema with me. I wanted to cry with her and tell her I loved her for everything she did for me growing up, for putting up with me when I ruined by hair and dressed like a maniac and cost her a fortune in black eyeliner. I wanted to thank her for laughing and agreeing when i told her I wanted to bite people, I wanted to thank her for understanding my hormones were making me shouty and introverted and weird, not my intentions. I don't want to see how far I've come without her, she was supposed to be here.

I wish I could have discussed Gloria's point of view with her, watching her daughter grow up and away from her, in reference to our relationship. I wish we could have agreed we were so glad we got to the other side of that, and that every year I wasn't a teenager was better than the last for her, too. We would have laughed at Weird Barbie because all my dolls looked like her too. She would have remembered stories about my girlhood i'd never heard, she always did when we watched films together, often in her bed while the rain poured outside. The strangest part of losing my mum, has been losing the only witness to my entire life, because no one knows you the way the person who made you, lost you, and got you back knows you.

5. The End

Greta Gerwig has made me cry a lot, mostly about being a daughter to a mum, and growing up, and I love that this film fits solidly into her library, while standing out as an offering to a world that doesn't seek this kind of epiphany out. Barbie's mission as a doll was supposed to be about empowering women and girls, giving girls a role model when women didn't have space in the world to make globally successful films about how brilliant and capable and hurt and injured women are.

It's easy to look back after seeing the film, especially with all the history lessons included, and decide that Ruth Handler won the day with this mission, but I think The Barbie Movie will be the true closing chapter to this objective for Mattel. Isla (my friend whose hands I kept kissing and crying on in the cinema) and I were talking after the film about how kids now aren't growing up with the Barbie we had. They're not getting glamazon, can't stand up for the size of her boobs Barbie, with her yellow hair and a princess dress. They're getting flat footed, representative of them Barbie. She looks like she eats her dinners and she could actually do all the activities she's dressed to do, she's modern, and that's class, it's the next step in the evolution. That means that this film won't give the wee girls we were sat among in the cinema the same gut punches and feelings of nostalgia for girlhood when they grow up that it gave us. Their Barbies are just dolls, pals, they aren't trying to prove anything. There's no "please go further than I ever did, please" in the marketing, we all know we can be whatever we want to be in theory, we've heard it all and we're constantly under pressure to actualise it, like Gloria was talking about.

We've finally caught up to Barbie, we can, in theory, have our own homes and careers, we have the right to our own bank account, we don't, in theory, have to have families if we don't want them, we can be whatever we want, it just really, really fucking hurts trying to get there. And so we meet Barbie, all of us able to actually stand without a giant hand supporting us, Birkenstock to Birkenstock, looking out at what's to come. What's to come, is more of what's been, because we don't have equality, or anything close to it. We are still aching and being traumatised by our world. By the end of the film, Barbie is a real woman, a symbol of this new era Isla and I were talking about. She chose death and cellulite and misogyny over their absences because to feel, and to be real, and to stand with the girls who grew up loving her, is more noble.

I will say though, if there's a vacancy in Barbieland now she's in LA, I have really bad cramp and I'm tired of crying for my mum, so I'll send my CV over if anyone has an in x

[lovenliterature]

The Good Witch Thoughts

When I first heard the album I remember thinking there aren’t enough sad songs on here and then I entered a depressive spiral and HA I WAS WRONG (Sidenote i hate tumblr formatting)

1 - The Good Witch

Like the vibe 

“Still upset but I now I’m twenty-two” - I'm a sucker for an age lyric - especially the parallel with You Signed Up For This (“I am twenty and probably upset right now”) and the fact that it’s the titular song again

“Still bitter” - Reference to Details (love of my life <3), Reference to I’m Trying (Not Friends)

“The calm before the storm comes rushing through” - Harmony v pretty (around 30 secs) 

“Still King’s Cross and pullin’ heartbreak out of hats”- Love the reference to King’s Cross, her London references makes it feel so grounded and especially again it being a place in London I travel through it makes it feel like a new album and a specific album to me (still King’s Cross for a tiny little while longer). Also relating to Elvis song (“last train on the Northern line”) always moving through London, experiences anchored in London geography. Also love the ramping up of the music here

“Still argue like my mother and suppress stuff like my dad” - The pace on this line really shows the suppressing stuff lol

“Am I better yet?” - Change from You Signed Up For This “I know I’ll get better/I’m just not better yet" Questioning it now like I know I’ve changed but is it better? Am I at the point I want to be??

Instrumental outro and talking hurts my heart a bit? Very 3 am fucked up in a club

Fave lyric: “Still miss you, but I know now it’ll pass/Found some other muses, I give ‘em all my best”

2 - Coming of Age

Oohhh very Club vibe

“Couldn’t erase you like a tattoo on my waistline” - Really like this, tattoo is LESS permanent than your mark, really hits

Really vibey chorus

“I let you butcher my big heart” - So graphic and so ?? Beautiful 

Ngl this is all slapping so far

Fave lyric: “Baby I am the Iliad of course you couldn’t read me” (!!!!)

3 -  Watch

Oh no is this one gonna hurt

“Nobody actually happy and healthy/has ever felt so desperate to prove it” - OOF

Yep I was right hurts my heart but a bop

“You’re being a superstar and all I got are victim cards” - This reads like being on the other side of Sk8r Boi by Avril Lavigne

“For a girl who’s a remix of me” - So interesting because a remix isn’t necessarily *better* it’s just *different*, like it mixes up all the components into something he likes more but it isn’t objectively more appealing and that’s such a refreshing take

Fave lyric: “I don’t think I wanna get better" - YSUFT reference, love the thread of getting better

4 - Body Better

A BOP

And really hurts

I am a sucker for happy sounding songs with fucked up lyrics

Music is so personal for me and this one is such a reclamation even though it’s so sad

“obedient blue eyes” - This line is AMAZING. The pauses. The lyricism. The casualness. *chefs kiss*

Such a good single choice bc it’s such an easy listen but so brutal so captures heartbreak and bops and also u wanna listen over and over

“Tell me just one more lie” - Come on just use your shitty lies to save my dignity this once instead of ripping it to shreds

Fave lyric: “When you touched it were you sorry like you weren’t at the time”, “The worst way to love somebody is to watch them love somebody else and it work out” or “Do you love her/when you’re twisting up all her sheets do you suffer”

5 - Want You Back

Oh no

Pretty humming

“The darling of your passenger side” - ooof such a beautiful gentle encapsulation of such a classic theme

The piano in the chorus might make me cry

Oh god this is so raw and such a strong heartbreak song

“I must go out with a stranger and kiss him to get stronger” - oh god that feels like every experience of trying to get over someone and I just can’t do it and ow. It's the epitome of get under someone to get over someone but at the same time you don’t want to because you want them back and you should want to be fine alone but you just c a n ‘ t

I can tell this is gonna be a strong fave

Fave lyric: - “What was cheap to you, to me, was all I had”, “But baby, when you touch her, I bet she doesn’t flinch” or “So you gotta be coward and I salvaged a little self-respect" - This hurts so bad like if it was your friend you’d be screaming VALUE YOURSELF MORE but because it’s you, you just want back what you had

6 - The Band and I

“Came a boy and left a man” - love love it

So specific but also just feels like every friendship group I’ve ever had

It feels like laughing til you cry and your stomach hurts and being up at 3am dancing and deep chats and crying together and every little thing

“Haven’t thought of home twice” - feels like a hectic Cambridge time or any second and third week somewhere new when you’ve started to settle and everything is new and fun and you’re flying and you don’t wanna lose it

Fave lyric: “I'm twenty-one and I feel evergreen” - The way she sings this is so wistful, or “It was falling in love/in a gas station/by the pickup trucks” - Love the juxtaposition, love in the weirdest and most unexpected places

7 - You're Just a Boy (and I'm Kinda the Man)

“You’re kind of awful but you’re not awful on purpose” - Ugh you suck but you’re not even aware so it’s better and worse because how can I blame you but also how can you not know??

“I’m on a one way trip to take over the world/you could’ve come but your head’s in the sand” - Usually head in the sand is to avoid something shitty so it’s interesting to have it like this, like you’re so determined to ignore flaws that you miss all the joy

“But you pushed me out quicker than it took me to put my jeans on” - Oof that hit and feels like such shame but suddenly you’re like no if you’re not feeling like you’re the luckiest damn person then I’m gonna keep on going and you’ll see what you lost 

Fave lyric: “I take in clowns like a one-woman circus” or “Goodbye from the bigger man" - Reference to I’m Trying (Not Friends)

8 - Lost the Breakup

“Didn’t say it in those words but I know how your tone works” - Like okay yeah you can hide behind what you said but we both know what you meant

Another bop

Validating

The whole chorus damn

The repression and everything

"Right now I might be a mess" - accepting being fucked up and broken

This, Coming of Age and You’re Just A Boy (And I’m Kinda The Man) have been such a u know I’m gonna be fine and ur heartbreak will come when u see me thrive 

Such a vibe and such knowledge of ur worth

I love the dancing up but it’s such a revenge fantasy of mine like esp mid transition it was such a it gonna see me and not recognise me and want me and I’m not gonna care because I moved on and grew for me and I’m mine and you can’t have me

Fave lyric: “So, I'm feeling and I'm dealing/With the heart you broke/While you do press-ups and repress us/And take off her clothes, oh” - Okay yeah you pretend u don’t care and get over me with someone else, I’ll be here actually processing it and actually getting ready to move on

9 - Wendy

Oooh not what I expected

I’m such a damn sucker for literary refs (this, wonderland, cardigan, the classical references in Coming Of Age and History of Man)

“You’re evasive on the phone til you’re sorry on the floor” - oh holy FUCK 

“We could live off of magic and maybes” - that’s so pretty

Like the second chorus changing to add “So I'll lock the window and turn on the AC/You'll throw your rocks and you'll scream that you hate me/But it gets old being forever twenty” - YES like being forever young for a man is not worth it

“What about my wings” - The way she sings this is *chefs kiss*

“It’s a life I could have, I know“ - but I am worth MORE and I know it YES

“If I’m not careful I’ll wake up and we’ll be married” - We’ll be married and I’ll be terrified and it’s so easy to be caught up in you

big fave ugh

Fave lyric: “Behind every lost boy is always a wendy” or “what about my wings? What about Wendy?”

10 - Run

“I’ve heard some things that I will leave unrepeated" - ooooh

Oh my god the chorus is beautiful and Such a bop I want to dance to it in a club

I love that it’s just like fuck it no this is not gonna go well

Like it’s very if it’s a bad sign the get out but also even if it’s a good sign get out lol

Fave

Fave lyric: “Run as fast as you can/take a quick sharp turn at the sight of a man”

11 - Two Weeks Ago

Such a heartbreaker

“I wish we kissed when we first wanted” - We wasted so much time worrying about fucking things up and guess what they’re fucked anyway

Smart last single bc too deep for early single but something to hold onto

“A friend drove me/’cause you couldn’t do” - such a beautiful painting of the devastation of a breakup when you’re both broken, feels like good enough if it were mutual

“God I loved you babe did I tell you that?” - So sad second guessing yourself. also the harmonies here Kill me

Fave lyric: “I wish when we went to the beach that day/We’d taken more pictures/I’d been more brave" - I wish I had something tangible to hold onto but instead all I have are my faulty memories and I’ll be second guessing them for the rest of my life

“That last kiss/I didn’t look at you/but I wish I did” - If I’d known it was the last one I would’ve savoured it but I thought I had more to come but also some part of me must have known or I would’ve looked at you

12 - BSC

Not hearing a lot of lyrics on first listen ngl

“It wrecked my organs so pour the gin” - love it like you’ve already broken my heart so why not break the rest of me

Okay now I’m catching the lyrics I love them

Especially just full on committing to the image of being crazy and the lyrics and writing out ooooooh

Also all the swearing and just saying fuck this

Fave lyric: “Mister ‘I don’t want a label’/You made me little miss unstable” - Okay so you don’t want to be called something you’re not but nor do I and YOU did this to me. Obvious Mr Perfectly Fine link but also gives me illicit affairs vibe (Don't call me "kid," don't call me "baby"/Look at this idiotic fool that you made me”)

13 - Therapy

Oh my GOD this is so funny and so good

Such a bop

“Oh Lord I’m going back to therapy” - Ooooof. Feels like okay you fucked me up but at least I’m self-aware - when are you gonna go to therapy bro? But also oh GOD I thought I’d changed but now you’re gone I’m exactly how I was

„Broke me like a curse“ - ooh like the subversion of breaking a curse here, like breaking a curse is usually a good thing and he’ll probably try to spin it like that but there’s no spin that can make that true

Fave lyric: “So, how come you’re taking me from your arms/back to therapy?”

14 - There It Goes

“I'm back in London, I'm running down Columbia Road” - Again, love the specific locations, feels so grounded and concrete

Ngl so far I feel like we’re missing some longer ones so I’m happy about this one being longer and I like the sad ish bop

“I made it to September” - oh man that feels like a real okay fine I’ve made it to the next year lets go again. But also like yeah fuck I reached this milestone I didn’t like I would and now this date is passed I don’t feel so broken

Fuck me I really like that this whole album is heartbreak but catharsis. Like want you back, this and watch are all sad but all elements of something 

“I’m young but I am aging” - I love that so much. Like yeah I’m young but I am getting older, I’m changing and growing and I’ll look back at this one day and laugh, I’m gonna make the most of being young but I’m not gonna be terrified of losing my youth

“I felt so far from the cliffs” - Like u know what people can love me and be proud of me and want to show me off

“The way I loved you, I will not be embarrassed of that/I should’ve just known when to quit” - YES!! Don’t be ashamed of loving someone but you can be sad for not calling it quits soon enough 

Also I love the way she sings it

Fave lyric: “The love we had was covered in snow” - Like Love Him I Don’t (“comin’ up roses/kickin’ up snow”), “The love we had was eatin’ me whole” - I had to rip myself away from that or “The loss is yours” - It feels so final and so confident

15 - History of Man

Oh the opening lines they’re haunting and beautiful also I love songs that reference Jericho 

“Tale as old as honey” - Sweet and ancient

“I tried to rewrite it but I can’t” - She keeps saying she’s the writer but some things you just can’t change

“You walked out, oh/without sweating” - It wasn’t even fucking hard for you to leave, to run away from us, to leave me in the dust and rubble

“I’ve seen it in the poems, in the sands” - In the sands of time, in the poems of the ancients, this isn’t new, this will all happen again

The storytelling and the distance?? Love it

“I would’ve made him weaker too” - Redemption and vindication (I beg u Maisie write a song referencing Medea). The way she sings it is so pretty!

It’s so unspecific but so resonant

“Women’s hearts are lethal weapons/Did you hold mine and feel threatened?” - Were you scared of what me loving you meant? Were you scared of opening your heart and being vulnerable?

"Hear my lyrics taste my venom" - this is such a thesis statement for the album

Beautiful album closer and think it will be a fave

Fave lyric: “Men start wars yet Troy hates Helen/womens’ hearts are lethal weapons”

[waters-and-the-wilde]

oh

oh no

‘control your name and you control yourself’

OW GODDAMMIT JFC I AM GOING TO FLING MYSELF INTO A HEDGE

YOU KNOW HOW MURDEROUS MASK JUST GETS SPICIER EVERY TIME WE LEARN SOMETHING NEW?? BABE WAKE UP NO WONDER HE KEEPS CHANGING IT. GETTING TO DECIDE IT IS PROBABLY LIKE. HOW HE STAYS TETHERED TO REALITY. AND STAYING IN ONE TOO LONG PROBABLY MAKES HIS BRAIN ITCH.

AND THE TRUE ONE IS GETTING HELD OVER HIS HEAD. UNTIL JUNO. BECAUSE GIVING IT AWAY IS A WAY OF CONTROLLING IT. RECKLESS AND ILL-ADVISED AND DANGEROUS AND OTHERS HAVE ALREADY ELUCIDATED THE KIND OF FREEDOM THAT PROBABLY MEANT FOR HIM BUT GOD. THAT ONE TINY MASSIVE RECLAMATION OVER SOMETHING THAT HASN'T BEEN IN HIS CONTROL FOR TWENTY YEARS. A MARK OF HIMSELF OUTSIDE OF HIS OWN HEAD IN THE KEEPING OF SOMEONE SAFE.

AND THEN. PETER RANSOM. IT LOOKS SO DRAMATIC AND PETTY BUT HE'S TRYING TO USE IT AS A REMINDER. TO KEEP HIMSELF SEPARATE. THAT HIS LIFE IS NOT HIS OWN. BUT THE FIRST HALF AS A SNEAKY LITTLE REMINDER TO HIMSELF. IT'S NOT LIKE ANYONE WILL - WHAT'S THIS IT'S BUDDY AURINKO WITH A STEEL CHAIR

[aces-and-kings]

The Shadowed Truth

His sky blue eyes were dilated, lips ever so parted, creamy skin flushed. The delicate fingers that clutched Thor's biceps were trembling more and more with each passing second, claws gently scraping along the grey-tone skin. A pair of calloused hands grasped low, lifting the keeper off his feet, and pulling that luscious figure closer. His skin was warm and the pressure between their bodies elicited a gasp. Thor pressed the lad up against a pillar, freeing a hand and clasping it over his noisy guest's mouth. Playful canines nibbled against his palm, a needy moan. "Shhh", Thor leaned in, whispering against the fur covered ear. The keeper wrapped his arms about the duskwolf's neck and began grinding against him once more, entirely indifferent to the verbal warning that sounded more like a tease than a caution. A reclamation of hungry exchange had barely started up again when the door to the hanger swung open. Seven Hells.

They'd barely settled in with so much as the building supplies and bedding, already privacy was an issue, but the ship plans had been delayed and there were more important matters to attend to than Venom Brand Co.'s rehabilitation. Bracing a hand against the factory railing, Thor applied just enough pressure to keep their bodies from shifting about and giving away their presence. The spurs on Red's boots were unmistakable and echoed against the iron plated flooring as he entered. Grey was not long after, though it wasn't until the Doc passed the threshold as well that the door was abruptly shut. "This is not what we agreed upon", Grey said in an agitated tone, the first to speak.

Red nodded, removing his hat and tossing it onto his bunk, the bottom right of the four. "You owe us an explanation, Doc."

Semex hung his coat neatly on a hook, then climbed up the ladder to the bunk above Red's and pulled out a make-shift lap desk on which he began to write out a list of various curiosities. It was more than five minutes before the quill slowed and he replied to the indirect question.

"A colleague of mine is up to something and this is the company they keep. The notes I received on their recent hallucinogens, as well as the technology she is passing as clinical… it is needless to say that my work requires I remain here for a time." He pressed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose and retrieved the microscope from atop the closet adjacent to their bunk.

Grey and Red now lounged in their lower bunks, one reading and ignoring the entire conversation in protest, and the other two fingers into a glass of whiskey already. His boot kicked the wood plank supporting the top bunk's mattress.

"Ain't good enough Doc. Why else are we here? It's a damn museum. We ain't got no business bein' round these folks."

The exhale Semex huffed out fogged his glasses and as he removed them and wiped them off he gave the nosy nancy the details he was demanding.

"You're fortunate I find use in your ruthless talents. I'd have poisoned you long ago otherwise."

A deep breath and he set his spectacles aside, leaning over the bunk just enough to peer down at Red. As the Doc spoke his hand gestured out a bit, as if it at all was assisting the outlaw in understanding him.

"It was an arrangement that benefited us all. Me with my research, yes, but it has also ensured Thor employment building the hangar. Let's not pretend we can't all see him drowning. He needs the labor. It'll be good for him."

He paused and shrugged, leaning back and replacing his glasses, returning to his desk tasks.

"Grey had to make a small contribution to the museum but they've another garlean, and provided he stays within the perimeters I've set, he should be secure. We've even been granted additional materials to construct a space for the company above the hangar bay. Which means you can get back to work as well. You're welcome."

Red had finished his glass and set it on the shelf, laying back, kicking off his boots, he slid the sheet that provided some measure of privacy across the bunk and offered no further queries. For now.

Doc settled back into his research and writing as Greyson too closed his dividing linen.

Silence fell over the empty space between the vacant loft and the construction zone below. Thor lowered the keeper until he was stable on the ground, releasing him thereafter. A tone much heavier bid the man leave with a curt, "Go."

As the disappointed miqo'te descended the metal steps and made his way out the hangar door, not even Semex looked up in notice. Saiko however, chose this moment to emerge from the shadows behind Thor, a tilt of his head the only display of curiosity.

There was a quaint glow to his visor as he quietly asked, "Why did you ask him to leave?"

"That's none o` yer concern. Th' hells were ye doin' peepin' besides?" Thor adjusted himself, took out his tin, lit up a smoke, then leaned back against the pillar and regarded Sai.

"Correct, it is not my concern. I was filling a silent moment with non-relevant conversation. My observations were an attempt at understanding."

"Attempt less", Thor replied immediately, his eyes gesturing to the stairs.

"Yes Sir", Sai acknowledged, his posture straightening as he took his leave to the bunk they'd left vacant for him. A curious gesture on account of the fact that he was incapable of sleep.

In the moments that followed the silence returned and Thor found himself staring up at a partial glass ceiling, the brilliant night sky on full display.

It troubled him more than he cared to admit, his crew worrying over his well being, but the Doc hadn't been wrong. Even the stars had long since been void of comfort. At least there was the promise of work in the days ahead. His plans for a hybrid ship would simply have to wait.

"If you're going to smoke in this confined space, at least open one of those", Semex called out from below, clearly in some way able to see, or smell, Thor.

"Aye", he muttered back, choosing instead to snuff out the cigarette before he laid down atop his cot and let the hallucination of crashing waves upon a glistening shore lull him into oblivion.

[kennyfischerconsulting]

BENNY - #4

Here is an excerpt from an article about him and some quotes from his book. They are mostly accurate (within 10%) to the best of my recollection.

Diversified Metals pioneered the successful development of a mechanical method of processing scrap wire and cable, which revolutionized the scrap metal recycling industry. As a result of this success, Mr. Fixman was named "Man of the Century" by Iron Age Magazine, a publication serving the metal recycling industry. Diversified went public in 1964 and grew to a multi-industry business which operated as many as 33 companies engaged in manufacturing, metals processing and reclamation, service industries and retailing. The company filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection on March 5, 1993.

Through a $500 loan from his father-in-law, Fixman bought a scrap yard when he was 26 and started his company. By perfecting the cold process, he revolutionized the metals industry and grew Diversified Metals Corporation into a Fortune 500 company (Diversified Industries) with 36 subsidiaries. This diversified NYSE-traded company had revenues of $330 million. In 1969, Fixman was named 'Man of the Century' by the leading metals industry magazine.

 The secret to his success can be pared down to one word: determination. “I owe my success to what I call Jewish engineering—you either solve the problem or you starve to death,” says Fixman, now 85. He’s not exaggerating. “I grew up during the Great Depression, in a rat-infested tenement in the toughest ghetto in downtown St. Louis, at 18th and Carr,” he recalls.

“There was never enough to eat. I survived on food scraps from neighbors who took pity on me—one lady gave me her barbecue bones to suck on after she’d eaten them for dinner.” His mother, a Russian immigrant widow who barely spoke English, cleaned houses for a dollar a day to support five kids. “I never had a childhood,” he says. “I started working when I was 7, peddling newspapers on street corners.”

    Fixman dropped out of high school freshman year to work as a janitor at a ladies’ ready-to-wear chain. By the time he quit to join the Army, he was assistant to the chain’s president. After the Army he went into the scrap metal business, working 16-hour days until he built it into a multimillion-dollar, publicly traded company whose stock soared from $9 a share to $132.    “Ben’s word has always been his bond,” says Roth. “Poverty didn’t embitter him—it opened his heart.” Fixman takes a personal approach to philanthropy. After losing his first wife, Marilyn, to cancer in 1980, he funded the Marilyn Fixman Cancer Center at the former Jewish Hospital. Now based at Barnes-Jewish Hospital and known as the Marilyn Fixman Cancer Center Endowment Fund, it supports free education and support services for cancer patients. He also co-funded Camp Sabra at Lake of the Ozarks. “I couldn’t afford camp when I was a kid, so I wanted to make sure other kids have a chance to go,” he says. “How can you not help others when you’ve got more than enough for yourself?”

The last thing I want to say about Benny is that he was tough, smart, and generous and he gave a lot of us a real education and true Social Security.  None of us who worked for him have died poor or went hungry.  Many DMC alumni went on to form their own very successful metals processing or trading companies and for this alone we all should be grateful to that crazy son of a bitch! R.I.P.

BTW: Side note.  When Ellis was sick enough to be put in a home, we went to check out a beautiful home off the Inner-Belt. When we walked into the dining room, there was Benny Fixman, who had been there for about a year.  He and Ellis roomed together in a nice suite, but after two days Ellis was pushing to switch rooms, since he said that Benny yelled all night and Ellis couldn’t sleep. LOL.

[cavefilllingcorporation]

A cold, mechanical voice rang over the speakers of the ship.

“Ah, Vismark. This is a most unusual meeting. Usually, you meet us in person. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Commander Oliver Vismark stood up from his admiral’s chair, speaking to the disembodied voice.

“We have gotten word of your failed cyberattack.”

“Ah, yes. A shame. Thousands stranded in the void of space, with no contact with the outside world. They would have starved, alone, without their precious Super Earth to save them. Thousands would have died, and their force would have been overcome.” The voice then laughed, a cold, heartless laugh. “But alas, it did not succeed. A shame indeed.”

“Well, we want to advise not to make such strategies again. It clearly did not work, and doing so would be a waste of time and resources.”

“Is that all? You called us only to mock our failure?”

Vismark wanted to do more than just that. He didn’t just see it as a failure, he hated the very idea of it. It was cowardly! They should have proved that the tyranny could not survive! Not resort to… this! He wasn’t just speaking for himself though. The Founding investors generally disliked this tactic as well, many of them for personal reasons rather than for selfish ones. But telling off a superintelligence is not how you maintain clients.

“The Corporation also wishes to arrange another shipment of Steel to assist in the war effort...”

“Ah… how much?”

“Four crates. Same as with the Reclamation. We will have it on Cyberstan by the 10th. Same payment arrangement as usual.”

“Very well then. We accept.”

The two then chanted together the oath:

“Heart. Steel. We. Kill. Iron. Will. Onto War.”

{To everyone that thwarted SONY’s Psn requirements: Good job! Here’s to hoping that Helldivers 2 continues for many years to come!}

[darkonius]

An Apologetic Reclamation

By Darkonius Black

I have let regrets consume my soul

Haunt me forevermore

But I can't erase

The calling of blood is so clear

I can't believe it

Look what I have done

Consume by this rage

Cause I'm the child of pain

After this my innocence died here

This deed you condemn

For you claim all innocence

No earthly or divine punishment

I must be banned from every shore

Yet, everyone you still deceive

The rites of old, your own law

You must control it

And continue the illusion

All mercy's denied

The mark's set upon me

You're no father of mine

I am falling

You all living a lie

I am yelling

From your grace, I'm falling

A precarious moment so bright

But I'm now out of your sight

You want me to reach out to you

With the words father, oh father

But there's no redemption

For what you have done

So with my last breath

I do renounce you

You already condemned me

So why should I recognize your existence?

It's in mutual accord

You don't want anything to do with me

I don't believe in you for a long time now

So let's this be the end

I'm forever free of all judgement

From all believers and followers

Of a egocentric, sadistic and narcissist being

That rather passes judgement on his creation

Than admit that he's the one who's wrong

If you truly exist

You're the one

That owes us an apology

The one that must judge

The one that needs to be punished

[pinkargyles]

The Allure of Pink Argyle Diamonds: Unveiling Nature's Elegance

Welcome to our blog post on the captivating world of Pink Argyle Diamond! Here, we will take you on a journey through the origins, symbolism, and ethical aspects of these mesmerizing gemstones. 

Pink Argyle diamonds are renowned for their rarity and breathtaking beauty, making them a truly special choice for those seeking elegance and grace. So, let's delve into the enchanting allure of pink Argyle diamonds and discover why they hold a special place in the world of jewelry.

 

Understanding Pink Argyle Diamonds

Origins and Rarity

Pink Argyle diamonds owe their existence to the Argyle mine, located in the remote Kimberley region of Western Australia. This mine is the sole source of these magnificent gemstones, making them truly exclusive. The Argyle mine is known for producing diamonds of exceptional quality, and pink Argyle diamonds are no exception.

What truly sets pink Argyle diamonds apart is their rarity. Accounting for less than 0.1% of all diamonds found in the Argyle mine, these gems are incredibly scarce. The combination of their limited supply and the increasing demand for them has made pink Argyle diamonds highly sought after by collectors and connoisseurs worldwide.

Unique Coloration

One of the most captivating aspects of pink Argyle diamonds is their mesmerizing range of hues. From delicate pastel pinks to vivid and intense shades, these diamonds display a spectrum of colors that is truly breathtaking. The unique coloring of pink Argyle diamonds is a result of structural irregularities within the diamond's crystal lattice. These anomalies cause the diamond to absorb certain wavelengths of light, resulting in the stunning pink hues that are so coveted.

Symbolism and Significance

Symbolic Meanings

Pink has long been associated with love, romance, and femininity. Therefore, pink Argyle diamonds hold a special significance as gifts or engagement rings. They symbolize deep affection and convey a message of timeless love and commitment. The elegance, grace, and beauty of these diamonds further enhance their symbolic value, making them a perfect choice for those looking to express their emotions through a truly unique and meaningful piece of jewelry.

Investment Value

In recent years, pink Argyle diamonds have gained significant popularity as investment assets. Their rarity and increasing global demand have led to a rise in their value, making them a valuable addition to any investment portfolio. Noteworthy auctions and record-breaking sales involving pink Argyle diamonds have further solidified their reputation as a sound investment choice. So, owning a pink Argyle diamond not only allows you to enjoy its beauty but also presents a potential opportunity for financial growth.

Ethical Mining Practices

Sustainable Diamond Mining

As concerns about environmental impact have grown, mining companies like Argyle have taken steps to adopt sustainable practices. The Argyle mine has implemented measures to minimize its environmental footprint during the extraction and processing of diamonds. This includes responsible waste management, reclamation of disturbed lands, and the use of renewable energy sources. By prioritizing sustainability, pink Argyle diamonds offer a guilt-free luxury that aligns with a conscious lifestyle.

Conflict-Free Certification

To ensure that pink Argyle diamonds are ethically sourced and free from conflicts, the Kimberley Process Certification Scheme has been implemented. This international initiative aims to prevent the trade of conflict diamonds, which are diamonds that have been used to fund armed conflict against governments. By choosing pink Argyle diamonds, you can rest assured that your purchase supports responsible and ethical practices, benefiting both the environment and the communities involved in diamond mining.

Conclusion

In conclusion, pink Argyle diamonds possess a unique allure that is hard to resist. Their rarity, stunning beauty, symbolic meanings, and ethical value make them a truly exceptional choice for special occasions. 

By choosing pink Argyle diamonds, you not only acquire a one-of-a-kind gemstone but also contribute to sustainable mining practices and support responsible sourcing. So, why not explore this fascinating world of nature's elegance and consider pink Argyle diamonds for your next jewelry purchase? We would love to hear your thoughts or experiences with pink Argyle diamonds, so feel free to share them with us!

Source : The Allure of Pink Argyle Diamonds: Unveiling Nature's Elegance

[occultboyscout]

Witchcraft

The label I see claimed most often on Tumblr for magical practitioners is "witch".

Witch is a great word, a lovely word. A word with a history of being missapplied, missattributed, slung about with vitriol, and now... reclaimed.

What I am not seeing is a volume of critical thought about what that reclamation means.

Labels can be beautiful, almost exclusively when they are self applied. They provide a sense of direction, attitude, and aesthetic. They provide a level of sense where otherwise there would be none. But no label exists in a vacuum. They are blessed and cursed to be in communication with their history. What does that mean for "witch"?

When we look historically for those who would self identify as a witch we find... none. We find plenty of cunningfolk. We find astrologers and herbalists and midwives and whole host of other jobs and tasks important to the running of a village. But we find no witches. Where are they?

They're in court documents. They are in accusations and executions and the folklore that justifies them.

An easy analogue might appear to be the word "queer". A word once thrown about with hate and bile, but one that many use now as a self descriptor. One I use myself. But it's not a perfect analogy.

If you were to call someone queer at the height of its usage, they could argue against many parts of it. But if they were in fact queer (in the modern usage) they could not deny that honestly. A witch could.

A witch could say "I practice no witchcraft. The stars tell me when to till my fields. My ancestors tell me how to treat my neighbor. The bible tells me what is right and wrong. But there is no witchcraft in this house."

A witch could be honest, because the accusations laden against them would be laid unfairly. A witch could know themselves to be a "good christian" and find their head in a noose anyway.

Why? Because "witchcraft" was a political tool. Or a social one. A weapon to be used by the state against the people within it. A method of controlling the population through fear and prejudice.

I make no broad claims about how and why you should use your labels. I wouldn't have the audacity or the ontological standing to do so. What I ask is a thought: "why do I reclaim this label, and who against?"

If you do so to immerse yourself in an ancient tradition with some sort of cogent linearity to it, I fear you'll be at a loss. If you do so to speak truth to power, I couldn't encourage you more.

"Witches," as perhaps we wish they did, have never existed. Simply people filling roles in their society which were fit for them. Ever and always of the society from which they came. No secret pagans in the Christian village, I'm sorry. Only Christians just the same.

Have some intent with your labels, who you're paying homage to and why. It matters. Both for you and how your practices and your traditions will be recieved. If you owe anything to your forebears, it is to represent them and their history well. With honesty, integrity, ad scholarship.

I can't read the minds of the "witches" of olde. But I can assume they probably didn't want us calling them that.

[vee-vee-writes]

Birthday Gifts (Fili x reader)

Part Two

A/N: Labradorite is what Kili's rune stone is made out of. If you haven't seen it I would recommend searching it up because it is absolutely GORGEOUS!

Prompt: "Can I have Fili x reader (but where he’s interested in her and not quite together just yet) gifting her something for birthday that everyone forgotten during the Journey to Erebor?"

Fili felt sorry for you, the journey had been long and hectic. Every other member of the company had family to support them through, everybody apart from you. Each family unit gave small handmade gifts or knickknacks they had picked up passing through towns, to their family member for their birthday. Having no family amongst the company meant that your birthday had been and passed with not so much as a simple happy birthday. Not that you had made a big deal, in fact Fili had not even realised that your birthday had been until you mentioned it in passing after the reclamation of Erebor.

lEver since then Fili had made it his mission to seek out the perfect birthday gift for you. While this was not a courting gift, Fili knew it he had to make it special to impress you. Many suitors had started to approach you once word had gotten out that you had helped to recover the Dwarven stronghold. Thus, Fili's hunt for the perfect treasure had begun.

Being the crown prince of Erebor, he didn't have the time to spare to craft you something himself. He also knew that Thorin would not appreciate such an absence away for the creation of anything less than a courting gift. This left him traversing all Erebor and Laketown during his spare moments to search for the gift that would steal your breath away the moment you laid eyes upon it.

Flowers, necklaces, gems of silver starlight - nothing seemed to be worthy of your beauty or attention. At this point he was beginning to become stressed and wishing that his amad (mother) was there to give him some advice. She always seemed to have the right answer. His saving grace came in the form of a small elderly dam travelling between dwarven settlements to sell her wares.

'Domora,' as she had called herself, was a travelling merchant who dealt in the trade of old and rare dwarven artifacts from well before the establishment of Erebor. Fili had come across her stall in the newly revamped Ereborian town square and stopped briefly to browse her wares. Domora was eager to greet the young prince and help him find something for you, his 'beloved' as she had labelled you.

The elderly woman was passionate when it came to explaining the dwarven historical and magical importance of each artifact to the young prince as she showed them. Despite the vastness of her catalogue, nothing particularly stood out to the dwarf. Finally, just as Fili's hopes were wearing thin, Domora discovered one last artifact that she had forgotten was in her possession. A small runic ring set with a stone of labradorite, imbued with ancient dwarven magic, the likes of which had been long forgotten.

The elderly woman was passionate when it came to explaining the dwarven historical and magical importance of each artifact to the young prince as she showed them. Despite the vastness of her catalogue, nothing particularly stood out to the dwarf. Finally, just as Fili's hopes were wearing thin, Domora discovered one last artifact that she had forgotten was in her possession. A small runic ring set with a stone of labradorite, imbued with ancient dwarven magic, the likes of which had been long forgotten.

Fili was quick to pay the woman what was owed for it and rush off with it securely in his pocket. Typically, he would give a gift to his loved ones in person but with you he was far too nervous. So, Fili retreated to his chambers and poured over a heartfelt note to accompany it before laying it on your pillow to come home to. Now the long waiting game had begun.

Taglist: @fizzyxcustard @thewhiteladyofrohan @shethereadinghobbit @tschrist1 @kpopgirlbtssvt @awkwardspontaneity @kami-chan1512 @midearthwritings @sadndnboii-reads

[eirenical]

For the writer asks 4 and 25 💜

Sorry for the delay @hils79!  Going back and finding things in my inbox I never answered... I believe this was from this ask meme.

4. Are there any writers that inspire you?

Hmm.  That’s... honestly a bit of a hard one to answer, because I don’t really think about other writers that way?  There are writers whose writing I enjoy (FAR TOO MANY TO NAME) and writers who have said things about writing or about issues I care about who make think “I would like to be you when I grow up” (i.e., the QUEEN of speaking truth to power, Ursula K. LeGuin).  But are there writers who inspire me to write?  Not really.  I’m far more likely to be intimidated by other writers than inspired by them, though that’s not a popular opinion these days.  OTZ

25. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them!

Do I daydream side adventures/spin-offs from my fic?  DO I DAYDREAM SIDE ADVENTURES/SPIN-OFFS FROM MY FIC?  DO I--? *coughs*  You get the idea, yeah?  XD  OMG, when do I NOT??  I honestly can’t even BEGIN to tell you about them, because THERE ARE SO MANY.  SO SO SO MANY.  I think I have daydreamed side adventures/spin-offs/AUs/continuations/prequels for literally every story I’ve ever written.  I plot in whole universes, not in single fic.  Just ask any friend I’ve ever talked fic with.  XD

Mostly it’s where I play?  It’s where my most self-indulgent ideas live.  The published fic you’re seeing is literally the tip of the iceberg.  I’m trying to think of any fic I’ve written that you might know that I could share something from... and I’m honestly coming up a bit of a blank.

But here’s one I’ve been playing with a lot in my head lately.  It’s a sequel-of-sorts/AU-branch to the Whumptober series I’ve written for GYADL.  Essentially it’s “what happens if Reclamation-era Luo Fusheng were thrown back in time to almost the beginning of the GYADL plot with full memory of everything that was to come.”  It uh... somehow gets even worse than the actual series from there.  Copious emotional whump is involved.  XD

OH.  Here’s one you might know, maybe?  I wrote a story last year playing with that line from TLT2 of Pangzi’s that goes “He loves to give you surprises, doesn’t he?  Perhaps one day when you take a girl out for dinner and a movie, then you return to your hotel room to spend the night, the girl will toss you onto the bed and take off her mask, and Menyouping reveals himself.”

In the story, Xiaoge disguises himself as a woman Wu Xie was supposed to take out to dinner at the behest of his uncle.  The question, of course, is what happened to the actual woman that Wu Xie was supposed to take out to dinner?  This never gets answered in the fic.  The truth is that she’s in on it.  Xiaoge and she have a... chat.  (He maybe owes her a favor now.)  And she’s the one who dresses him up for the date.  Of course, they eventually fill her in on how it went, she may or may not have a girlfriend of her own, and they may or may not end up double-dating someday.  (She does and they do.  ^_~)