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reading-writing-revolution · 5 years ago

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Heather Cox Richardson:

July 29, 2020 (Wednesday)

Today, America passed 150,000 deaths from the disease caused by the novel coronavirus, Covid-19.

America has suffered more than a fifth of the world’s recorded deaths. At TalkingPointsMemo, Josh Marshall likened the U.S. to an abuse victim, its citizens unable to see just how badly we are suffering from the virus because we have come to think “catastrophe feels normal without grasping that in most other countries with a similar set of tools to the United States things really are close to normal.”

Scholars at the Johns Hopkins University Center for Health Security warned that the U.S. “is not currently on course to get control of this epidemic…. It is time to reset." They call for testing, stay at home orders in places where the disease is spreading, and the mandatory use of masks. The Association of American Medical Colleges warns that if we do not take such steps, deaths could soar “well into the multiple hundreds of thousands.”

And yet, various Republican leaders continue to resist wearing a mask. Today, Representative Louie Gohmert (R-TX) tested positive for the coronavirus before a flight he was scheduled to take with the president. He assembled his staff members, who are forbidden from wearing a mask, in person, to tell them he had tested positive. He returned to his office at the Capitol, where he lives rather than having accommodations in Washington, D.C., prompting a colleague to demand he find somewhere else to quarantine.

Gohmert was present at yesterday’s House Judiciary Committee meeting, where Chair Jerrold Nadler (D-NY) reprimanded a number of other Republicans for taking off their masks. After Gohmert tested positive, House Speaker Nancy Pelosi mandated mask wearing in the House chamber, but a number of Republicans ignored the order.

Against the backdrop of this health catastrophe, the president is running a reelection campaign openly based on racism. This morning, he tweeted “I am happy to inform all the people living their Suburban Lifestyle Dream that you will no longer be bothered or financially hurt by having low income housing built in your neighborhood…. Your housing prices will go up based on the market, and crime will go down. I have rescinded the Obama-Biden AFFH Rule. Enjoy!” This is no longer even coded racial language: the 2015 Affirmatively Furthering Fair Housing rule (AFFH) was explicitly intended to end racial segregation in housing.

Other members of the Republican Party are following Trump’s lead on race, manipulating the images of their Democratic opponents to make them look more stereotypically racialized. Yesterday, Georgia Republican Senator David Perdue had to pull a Facebook advertisement that featured his Jewish opponent, Democrat Jon Ossoff, with a digitally altered face. Tapping into old anti-Semitic tropes, the ad lengthened and widened Ossoff’s nose in an image of him shown over the caption “DEMOCRATS ARE TRYING TO BUY GEORGIA.” Perdue’s campaign spokesman called the ad ��an unfortunate and inadvertent error” and blamed it on “an outside vendor.”

Senator Lindsey Graham (R-SC), who is facing an unexpectedly strong challenge from Democrat Jaime Harrison, is doing something similar, running a Facebook ad in which Harrison’s face has been digitally altered to make his skin appear darker than it is (Harrison is Black). When called on the manipulation, Graham’s campaign accused Harrison of “manufacturing a fake controversy to inject race into this campaign at a time of great turbulence in our country.” Like the Nazi-themed ads from the Trump campaign, the backlash against such an ad provides free news coverage for the Graham campaign. Graham is the chair of the Senate Judiciary Committee, in charge of overseeing the appointments of America’s judges.

But for all that Trump seems eager to win reelection, he appears to have little interest in governing. Emergency federal unemployment benefits of $600 a week, designed to help people tossed out of work as the pandemic closed businesses, are running out just as a moratorium on evictions ends. Currently, 31.8 million U.S. workers are collecting those unemployment benefits. The country is on the edge of a catastrophe, but Republican leaders in the Senate have been unable to agree to a new package of aid even amongst themselves, let alone with Democrats.

Apparently frustrated that even Republicans did not want to put $1.75 billion into the package to fund the construction of a new FBI headquarters in Washington, D.C., which would keep the site from becoming a hotel that could rival his own, Trump appears to have abandoned the whole process of negotiating a new bill.

As he left Washington for an event in Texas, Trump told reporters that he wants to “send payments to the people,” but as for “the rest of it, we’re so far apart, we don’t care…. We really don’t care.” White House chief of staff Mark Meadows told reporters that it seems likely the federal unemployment benefits will lapse. “We’re nowhere close to a deal,” he said.

Instead of focusing on the looming economic crisis, Trump upset members of both parties today when he announced that he would be withdrawing 12,000 troops from Germany. This will remove the troops from a European hub with a sophisticated transportation system that enables them to move quickly, thus countering Russian aggression. Trump claims the removal is retaliation because he says Germany is not paying enough into NATO, but the removal will waste billions of dollars spent recently on upgrading US military installations, and will further weaken NATO, which is a key goal of Russian President Vladimir Putin.

Both the top Democrat and the top Republican on the House Armed Services Committee criticized the plan, and almost two dozen Republican members of the committee sent an open letter to the president warning that the step will “significantly damage U.S. national security as well as strengthen the position of Russia to our detriment.” They warned that “signs of a weakened U.S. commitment to NATO will encourage further Russian aggression and opportunism.” They urged him to reject the idea.

Retired Lt. Gen. Mark Hertling, who commanded the US Army in Europe, said he was “sickened by this decision and explanation. It is not tied to any strategic advantage and in fact is counterproductive to showing strength in Europe.” Admiral Jim Stravidis, the former top military commander in Europe and NATO for the US Navy, said “abruptly pulling 12,500 troops out of Germany (to put half of them in countries who spend LESS on defense) doesn't make sense financially, hurts NATO solidarity overall, and is a gift to Putin.”

Senator Mitt Romney (R-UT), a former Republican presidential nominee agreed: “The plan outlined by the Administration today to remove thousands of U.S. troops from Germany is a grave error. It is a slap in the face at a friend and ally… and it is a gift to Russia coming at a time when we just have learned of its support for the Taliban and reports of bounties on killing American troops.” Senator Robert Menendez (D-NJ), the top Democrat on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, said "champagne must be flowing freely this evening at the Kremlin."

Trump has spoken at least eight times with Putin since news from U.S. intelligence broke the story that Moscow offered bounties to Taliban-linked fighters to kill U.S. and allied troops in Afghanistan. Trump and Putin spoke most recently on Friday; Trump told reporters they did not discuss the Russian bounty scandal. Indeed, the pattern of Trump’s favoritism to Russia is so marked that CNN today ran a story listing “37 times Trump was soft on Russia.”

And there is now news of another Russian attack on the U.S.: yesterday U.S. officials said that two people from Russia’s military intelligence service, the GRU, are behind an effort to spread disinformation about the coronavirus pandemic.

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nicoletterogers · 5 years ago

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task eight - high school never ends

( tw: adhd mention )

[ soundtrack ]

Let’s start with the simple stuff first. what classes did you take in high school? which ones were you most and least excited for? did you have a favorite teacher that made the days more enjoyable?

Nic propped her leg up on a chair, leaning in as she listened to the question. People never wanted to talk about high school--brought up bad memories for some. Some just didn’t care. Not for Nic--comparatively, high school was a good part of her life. She preferred college, but she didn’t hate her last years in the public school system. The blonde shrugged. “Well, I mean--I had to take the core classes, y’know? But my high school was big enough where we had a lot of really cool electives in all sorts of subjects--like I once took a class called ‘American History through Music”’and that was sick as fuck. I also took one on the World Wars. I liked history a lot back then. I guess I still do--but I don’t have a lot of time to sit and learn anymore. That’s why I’m big on documentaries. I mean, yeah, Liam of course--but also I like learning.” She paused, humming while she thought about her classes. “I hated English. Like what a pointless class--why would you have to learn about a language that you already speak? I mean, yes, i know, it’s not actually important. I think Lia has shared with me a few times the joy of what words mean--but i don’t know. I just never could figure out why anyone would want to spend more time than they had to writing papers or reading books. Maybe if i had taken a creative writing course or two--but nah. Give me AP Gov any day--or even trig. I was good at trig.” She paused. “Nah, teachers liked Liam. He was charismatic and charming, good at sitting and listening. School was never hard for me, but I didn’t possess the talent of sitting still for very long. I think I was...a sophomore in college when I first got diagnosed with ADHD. Did you know that ADHD often shows up different in women than men?” Nic nodded. “Yeah--its wild. Girls are significantly less likely to get a diagnosis growing up, which means that their symptoms go untreated and unsupported for crazy long periods of time--like sometimes 20 years. I think that’s why I really struggled in English--because the subject didn’t interest me and like hell i could just sit there and read something. But nah, teachers and I never bonded. Which is fine because I still did well in school. It just took some extra effort.”

and now, outside of the classroom. did you participate in any extracurricular activities like sports, band, or other clubs? were you apart of the prom planning committee or did your parent always sign up to chaperone field trips? or did you bolt home or to work at the end of the day?

“Oh hell yes. I was all about the extracurriculars. I did archery, cheerleading--don’t laugh--worked on the school newspaper for a year, managed the lacrosse team for a year, volunteered to be a mentor for incoming freshman and, of course, worked. Anything to stay out of my house. I mean, I loved Liam but my dad and I are like oil and water. He wanted me to be like Liam so badly--and I just...couldn’t. One, I wasn’t a guy--and that was disappointment enough for him. But I wasn’t Liam and spending time around dad just...it was so much pressure. So I tried to focus my time elsewhere. and I liked being busy--my brain enjoyed that piece. It was like my environment finally matched how fast my brain was working. Even cheerleading--the sport that made me a wear a skirt--was fun. Because nothing is better than proving a bunch of stupid high school boys that yes, cheerleading is a sport. a hardcore, badass sport. But if I had to pick a favorite, it would be archery. I think it’s because I got to teach it to the kiddos at camp later on, but also--like how powerful is it to be able to pull back on a bow and let an arrow fly through the sky and get a bullseye? Like it’s badass.” Nic grins at the memory. “Oh, and then seeing those kids at camp--especially the ones who struggle with who they are and their self-confidence--light up when they hit the target? the pride they have in themselves for something they’ve done? That shit’s an unreal high.”

a night to remember. did you go to prom? if so, did you have a date or fly solo, and was it a good time where you danced all night, and what were you wearing? if not, did you have an ‘anti-prom’ party, or why else did you decide not to go? what about other school dances or pep rallies?

The blonde lets out a laugh and nods, thinking about the memory. “Oh yeah-- I definitely went to prom. I mean, I think I was always going to--but I don’t think I anticipated having a date. And definitely not winning prom queen, but that’s Malik for you. The kid was like the closest thing to a celebrity in school--I mean, I think so. He was the star jock and you know how high schoolers get about their sports. But no, Malik and I are good friends--super close. I love that guy, he’s such a good one. So of course I was going to say yes when he asked me to go with him. I’m pretty sure half of my squad was jealous, but like...that whole thing never made sense to me. The whole jealousy thing.” It sure as hell does now though. She thought bitterly, her own situation appearing back in her mind. “Anyway, we went as friends. I didn’t expect to win prom queen--hell, i didn’t even know people knew who I was. Weirdest experience ever to put a tiara on. But honestly--prom was kinda fun. Not kinda, I really enjoyed it. Malik and I did end up kissing, but it was one of those kisses where you realize, at the end of it, you’re way better off as friends than anything more? Not that the kiss was bad, not at all.” She laughed, shaking her head. “I wore this red dress with a slit up the side and I had never in my entire life though I’d wear something like that. It looked good though. Like really good. All that cheerleading paid off I think.” Another chuckle came out of her lips. “As for pep rallies-- I was in them so of course I was there. And I liked the energy of them. I’ve always liked big energy spaces--concerts, pep rallies, sporting events. It feels like--at least for a moment--you’re all connected by something greater than yourself. Maybe that’s like my church. I don’t know. But yeah, I liked pep rallies.”

some more of the hard hitting q’s. who did you sit with at lunch? did you keep the lock off your locker or decorate it? were your headphones always snaked through your sneeve? was cutting class a normal occurrence or would you never dare? did you ever get detention?

“I mean, I don’t think I was ever popular--but I always had a place to sit with someone. It was either with Liam and his friends--I guess they were also my friends, but I met them through Liam so it’s hard for me to associate them as just mine. Sometimes with my squad, but not often. I didn’t care for the dramatics of dates and boys and clothing talk. But every so often we had a good discussion on things that I did care about--sometimes it was on women’s rights, though that was a lot of Sammi repeating what her mother told her about feminism (not that it was wrong, but it wasn’t Sammi’s words, that was sure) or the fact that child workers were making the clothing they had talked about the previous day. I liked those conversations the best. But even still, it was usually me shooting the shit with Liam and our friends. I loved those guys so much, y’know? I still keep in touch with a lot of them--some have families, some just got married. In fact, I am going to Tate’s wedding in a couple weeks. Its so weird to think they’re just now getting married and...” She trailed. Maybe now wasn’t the time for that thought. “Detention? Oh yeah. Me and Mrs. Huxley were good pals by graduation. Mostly it was about cutting class--but everyone once in a while she’d catch me with a...special someone in an empty hallway. Ok, so it only happened twice and I never told Liam because he’d kill me if he knew. So I guess,” She looked up at the sky and chuckled lightly. “Surprise?”

upward and onward. what did you want to be when you were sixteen? was there a career path in mind, a certain college, another route worth taking? were you excited to see your high school in the rearview mirror or was moving on bittersweet? if you graduated, was it scary or exciting or a mix of both? did you end up where your younger self expected you to?

"Well, when I was really little, I wanted to be a sideline reporter for the Bears. Or a commentator for the Cubs. Something to do with sports, absolutely. I could never imagine leaving this city--not in a million years. Even at 31, the city still surprises me daily and i love that fact the most. You never know who you’re going to meet--its a giant present box you wake up in every morning. How could anyone want to leave that?” She grinned, tapping her foot. “But at 16 I think I had let go of that dream and set my sights on the Academy. Police academy. I did, briefly, think about enlisting. Thought that if I wanted to break stereotypes and gender roles, I could make a huge splash in the military. But something about that whole world--I couldn’t take the plunge. I think I wanted to support my community, keep them safe, make my home a home for all.” She sighed. “So I was going to be a cop. Plus Liam was already doing that and I couldn’t let him have all the hero glory.” She winked, smirking. “I stayed in state--in city--for school, saved me some money and I already knew the area. In fact, I didn’t really ever leave Chicago. Which, makes me small minded to some i’m sure--but why do I need to leave when the world seems to flock to chicago? Just because I never lived anywhere else doesn’t mean I haven’t been challenged to grow.” Nic shrugged. “But yeah, like I said college was probably my favorite time in my life. Like hands down. I mean how could it not be? Killed the beer pong scene, met all sorts of great people, honed my skee ball skills even more, learned some awesome things, found the love of my life--got married.” It was so much simpler at 20. So much simpler. When did everything go so wrong? “Yeah, sorry--this was about high school. Uhm--wait, what was the question again?”

and last but not least. if you could tell your younger self one thing - what would it be?

“You’re a strong cookie, Nic. Life is going to wreck you down to your core but don’t ever think it’ll destroy you. You’re too damn stubborn to let that happen--and that is not a bad thing.”

#tw adhd #malnatitask #[[wake up sunshine; headcannons]]

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thathpheadcanongirl · 6 years ago

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Why the Weasley’s are “Blood Traitors”

((I recommend treating this like a little chapter of the Black Family History Book. It coincides with the Bellatrix headcanon I posted a while ago. You don’t have to read it if you haven’t already, but it’s good to know some backstory before we get into another backstory. Anyway, below the “Keep Reading” tab, is a VERY in-depth speculation of why and how the Weasley family became “Blood Traitors”. Enjoy!))

Here’s the Black Family Tree for reference:

This is all speculation and guessing, but I believe that the Weasley family was a respected family in the Wizarding Community from the beginning of the 19th century until 1959. They had a good hundred years under their belt. Humble folk, the Weasley Family earned their keep by owning many successful farms and being the main agricultural resource for the Wizarding World. Their produce and livestock were always top-notch; they created many magical techniques and spells for the perfect product.

They were not “rich”, but respected. And respect, at the time, was all that was needed to be part of the “Sacred” families. That’s not to say they were poor; on the contrary, they were well-off. But of course, there were some shallow people in the exclusive group that were not very keen to share the same title as farmers. Still, the first generation of Weasleys would attend many a party, feeling a little out of place, but always courteous.

Their views on Muggles were more or less the same as everyone around them: Muggles did not have the advantage of magic; therefore, Wizards were superior. Did they seek out Muggles to trick them or cause them harm? No. I don’t think the first generation went too close to Muggleborns, but then again, there weren’t many Muggleborns revealing themselves at the time. If the Weasleys came across a Muggleborn, I believe they’d be a bit ignorant, but never intentionally.

Fast-forwarding to maybe the third generation of Weasley (assuming we’re following the Black Family Tree)… Cedrella Black was born between 1916-1918. Let’s assume, for the sake of argument, Cedrella was born 1917. We could speculate that Septimus Weasley was around the same age.

To give a brief summary of what we think the Black Family was like during that time… Arcturus (Cedrella’s father), Sirius II (Cedrella’s uncle) and Regulus (Cedrella’s first cousin from her Uncle Sirius) must’ve been very big advocates for blood purity (probably active Grindelwald supporters) and had to have done extraordinary things in the name of the Black Family to inspire Orion and Walburga to name their sons after them. Keeping that in mind, I believe the three of them were insanely bigoted and sadistic, quite like Bellatrix or what we could imagine Walburga was like.

To the Black family, the Weasley family was not extravagant enough to be accepted into the family easily. Besides the abundant success the Weasleys had with magical agriculture, they were “plain” and “simple”. (They were also almost all Gryffindors, which was received with big eye rolls from every Black.) But listen, Cedrella was quiet, so she was often put in the “plain” category too. I like to think Cedrella met Septimus in their mid-twenties, so in the 1930s. Despite their “plain” and “simple” stereotypes, Cedrella and Septimus end up hitting it off and remembered as the “life of the party”.

It wasn’t long before Septimus asked Arcturus for Cedrella’s hand. Arcturus initially said no because Cedrella was betrothed to her cousin, Regulus. (Oh, yeah! Regulus is, like, too gross-looking and too pro-Grindelwald for any outside suitor and Cedrella is too passive to say anything against her father’s wishes.) He also passive aggressively said that he didn’t think Septimus could take care of his daughter with the “little fortune” he has inherited. And he was also pretty sure that Septimus was only asking just so he could have a ration of the Black family inheritance. So, being the Gryffindor he was, he said “I’d rather be a poor man and in love than rich and heartless.” And that mere ripple started a very spiteful rivalry.

Septimus refused any and all of Cedrella’s inheritance for his personal gain. He encouraged Cedrella to keep it and use it when she wanted to, but he never touched it. He wanted to show Arcturus that he can make his own fortune.

He had inherited a portion of the Weasley farms (assuming he had other siblings before and/or after him). It wasn’t much, but he used creative means to make his portion flourish above the other portions. Only then did Arcturus give his daughter to Septimus (and yes, being the Weasley man he was, he damn-well waited for Arcturus’s approval).

Very shortly after getting married, Septimus and Cedrella had their first son out of maybe three. (The youngest of which was none other than Arthur Weasley.) They lived a “plain” and “simple” life with their successful farm.

At some point, possibly in the mid-1940s, times were getting a bit harder economically. Grindelwald’s infamy fragmented the socio-economic system, leaving the Wizarding World divided by class. That meant more “rich and influential” had the notion that they were so superior to Muggles and Muggleborns that anyone with magical blood who associated with them were just as inferior. And after Obscuri became public knowledge, there were task forces in every country centered on locating any magical activity coming from any household. This lead to many more Muggleborns being exposed and accepted into magical schools. ((I think I accidentally explained the whole FB epic plot lol!))

After Muggleborns left school, most of them were forced to go back into the Muggle World because the segregation was REAL. No one wanted to hire them and it was really sad that most of them were super talented. Septimus’s business needed workers, and work was work regardless of “blood status”. This earned much hate from his in-laws and other people in the “Sacred” families. His fellow Weasley clan didn’t seem to mind, but it was tough on business for them to sell their goods as well. Nevertheless, his Muggleborn workers were friendly, happy to work and, dare he say it, better than he would have done. He paid all of his workers equally.

Business was bad on the Weasley farm in the mid to late 1940’s. Septimus was baffled to see such a decline in produce quality and quantity. Cedrella offered to help out with her inheritance, and, with that Gryffindor stubbornness, Septimus refused to touch it still. Cedrella tried to reason with him; they had another child on the way, and they had workers to pay. They couldn’t afford to do both. Septimus studied day and night on how to regrow his produce in time for harvest season. Just as he found a way, he woke up to all of his livestock dead in his fields. One of his Muggleborn workers was said to have poisoned them with the wrong food. (Some of the workers of “Wizard Decent” were passive blood purists and didn’t want to share the same place with “Mudbloods”. So, they “framed” the Muggleborns.) Septimus had no choice but to fire the men that were framed because of all the evidence pointing them to the crime. In doing so, Arcturus welcomed him with open arms. It was strange to be on his father-in-law’s good graces, especially now. And quite honestly, he wasn’t going to ruin it.

Cedrella was the one that thought it was wrong. She explained that her father liked him because he thought he had picked a side. She, for one, didn’t like sides and would have rather stayed in the grey area.

Septimus was okay with it until Arcturus invited him to the ritzy parties. And these parties were all full of influential people that supported Grindelwald’s hierarchy. Tom Riddle was a welcomed guest as well, with his few intimidating followers. Septimus felt uneasy sitting in on these dinners; they were full of bigots and loud elitists, and he wanted no part of it.

At some point, Septimus found a good time to start fighting back. Arcturus gloated about how his son-in-law fired all of his “Mudblood” employees, and Septimus boldly fires back that he had to clean house entirely.

“Unfortunately, I had to let go the men who had falsely accused my good workers. But, luckily, I have those workers back. Bless them, for being so forgiving.”

The whole hall went silent. Arcturus laughed to cut the tension.

“Oh, Septimus,” barked Arcturus. “Always the kidder of the family. My daughter sought you humor, surely.”

“She suggested it.”

Arcturus’s laughter dwindled down to a low chuckle, then stopped completely. They had an awkward spat. Then, it came down to that line, whether he was on their side or the other. Septimus tried to reason that taking sides was a waste of time…

“We teach Muggleborns for what reason? To make sure they don’t kill us with their power? What rubbish!”

“We shouldn’t be teaching Muggleborns anything! Magic should be kept within the families it has been in for genereations.”

“Magic had to have started somewhere. What if they are the first in their family?”

“Bah…”

“Frankly, Arcturus, I think your belief in preserving the Black family line is as outdated as the wig you wear to keep people from seeing your bald spot. There are potion remedies for that, or have you tried that already?”

Thoroughly insulted, Arcturus kicks Septimus out of the party until he was ready to apologize for embarrassing him. But that’s the thing: Septimus never planned on apologizing. He was forced to pick a side, so he chose not to pick sides. In not choosing a side, the Weasley side was chosen for. They were now against the regime, unless they renounced their name in favor of elitism.

The Weasley farms were targeted by many extreme followers. Their crops were scarce and their employees were quitting left and right. Some were quitting to keep their families safe and some were quitting because they were prejudice. Either way, it was bad business for the farm. Pretty soon, the farm consisted of a huge garden, protected against any spells that might poison or harm it. He had a few faithful workers, most of whom he promised to keep safe from terrorists. Pretty soon, he was basically harboring Muggleborns in his home.

Around this time, Arthur was born. While growing up, he was exposed to a few Muggle things here and there because of the “visitors” living in his home. Cedrella was okay with this; she had no issues with the people living in her home… Until she started getting threats from extreme followers.

Don’t get me wrong, there were extremists on both sides. Septimus and Cedrella would kick anyone out who came home talking about how they were going to start an uprising in the other direction. At one point, one of the Muggleborns in hiding confessed to being part of a resistance group (there were many small ones at the time) and saw one of his group members kill Sirius Black. Septimus shouted at the man to leave, asking why he thought it was appropriate to come back to his home with this knowledge. He and his family could be targets. They already were, but now they would be targets to kill.

After Cedrella’s uncle died, her father told her that she had a few chances to leave Septimus and marry her cousin, Regulus, like she was intended to in the first place as penance for Sirius’s death. He even promised that she could keep her youngest son, since he was too young to actually obtain anything Muggle related yet. Cedrella didn’t reply to any of the pleas. She loved her family; she wasn’t going to give them up for anything in the world. Besides, being with Septimus had given her more of a voice and she wasn’t afraid to spout her opinions anymore. This only gave Arcturus more incentive to “erase” her off of the family tree, but there wasn’t real evidence to them being absolute blood traitors, since the Weasley farm was essentially out of commission from terrorism.

It was 1959. The Weasleys’ whereabouts were hidden, but the oldest sons were in Hogwarts already. I believe they were in Fourth Year and First Year respectively. Arthur was nine. Septimus’s business went belly-up by this point. Any crops or livestock he produced was for his family’s use only. Ironically, the family used Cedrella’s portion of the Black family fortune to survive for a while.

Around wintertime, Cedrella and Septimus received a letter from the Deputy Head Master, Albus Dumbledore, that their sons have been part of a huge duel between some Slytherins and they were very badly injured. Some of them were part of the Black family in some way or another. Probably a Crabbe or Rosier. (If it was a Crabbe, it would have been Cedrella’s Uncle Cygnus’s first son’s wife’s relative. If it was a Rosier, it would have been Cedrella’s Uncle Cygnus’s first son’s third son’s future wife’s relative, aka Druella Rosier’s relative. As I’m typing this, I like the idea of connecting their stories in some way. Like, around this time, Druella has had Narcissa, but is still making up for her “mistakes”. Her family makes a statement by being super supporters and terrorizing anyone they were taught were not on their side. Yup… that’s what happened.)

Cedrella and Septimus are forced to sit in with the Rosier’s (and, fuck it, the Crabbe’s are there too). The Rosier’s and Crabbe’s look at Cedrella and Septimus like they are scum. They argue that “boys will be boys” and it’s left at that. Dumbledore gives his two cents, fully aware that the divide is REAL.

“Here’s to a better world in which fighting is a thing of the past. And may your sons learn from your mistakes.” There was an uneasiness in the air after that meeting.

Cedrella and Septimus, along with Arthur, I guess, visit their oldest two in the Hospital Wing. They look terrible; they almost looked like they were beat with fists instead of wands.

(I have now named Arthur’s brothers Walter and Bilius because those are also simple Medieval names and one is confirmed.) Walter was known for being a spitfire and Bilius liked excitement. That combination with their secret made for a recipe for disaster. Cedrella was SO cross with them for fighting, and Septimus was about ready to give them even more bruises for spilling their secret. However, they couldn’t help but be proud of them for sticking up for “what was right”.

Because of them telling the secret, Cedrella and Septimus did their best to protect the small fortune and property they had left. It was only a matter of time before Tom Riddle’s supporters came knocking again. This time, they were in masks. They came in the middle of the night, ready to murder the Muggleborns and the Weasley family in their sleep. Luckily, Cedrella had basically become an insomniac at that point; she wasn’t able to sleep, afraid that something bad would happen to her family.

They came bursting through the door, masks and all. Cedrella was at the ready and flew spells in every direction, killing nearly half of the masked intruders. Some Muggleborns were too late and perished. Septimus helped Cedrella fight off some more masked intruders. They heard a scream come from Arthur’s bedroom. As quick as lightning, Cedrella burst through Arthur’s room and didn’t hesitate to kill the hooded figure about to take her son away.

As the man thudded to the floor, she grabbed Arthur into her arms and said no harm would ever come to him. Septimus ran to Arthur’s door with another masked figure chasing him. Cedrella immediately cast a shield charm on the door (and idk, some of Arthur’s untapped magic solidified some walls too). Septimus stepped through it, but the masked figure halted in his tracks.

“Uncle…” said the masked figure.

Cedrella’s heart stopped. The hooded figure was her father, Arcturus. She had killed her father without hesitation to save her son.

The man on the other side of the door unmasked himself to reveal her betrothed cousin, Regulus. His yellow teeth and cold, black eyes burned into her very soul. “Traitor!” he declared shrilly. “Blood traitor, Weasley! Blood trai-”

And some Muggleborn killed Regulus from behind. The rest of the masked figures still alive Disapparated, and it was forever known that the Weasleys were blood traitors. No one knew that Cedrella had killed her own father; as far as anyone knew, the Weasleys harbored Muggleborns that were in for questioning and those Muggleborns had killed Arcturus and Regulus in a raid. In the Black family (and among Tom Riddle’s supporters), Arcturus and Regulus were honored like heroes to their cause. They had managed to kill nearly three whole families that night. Cedrella had lost all of her fortune from the Black family, as she was officially disowned from the family.

The Weasleys were humble folk, forced to take a side. And they chose love over duty, pride over prejudice, if you will, whether they meant to or not. They were known as Blood Traitors and Cedrella had chosen to stay with a Blood Traitor family, which is why she is marked off of the Black family tree for marrying Septimus Weasley. Septimus was always on thin ice, and this event was the proof they needed.

I think Arcturus’s intent was to kidnap Arthur and teach him the Black family way of thinking, just like the Rosier’s did to Bellatrix, which seemed “successful enough”. Arthur was old enough to remember the Muggle stuff, too young to be able to process what had happened that fateful night. Walter and Bilius protected Arthur through their time at Hogwarts, not to say that he couldn’t stick up for himself. He has only known that he was part of a Blood Traitor family and they were proud. They encourage Arthur’s Muggle fascination; if anything, they think it’s endearing. Walter turns out to be a bit of a drunk, because he was old enough to remember too much (tying in the Weasley Uncle who almost thought Polyjuiced Harry was “one of his” at Bill and Fleur’s wedding), and Bilius was also old enough to remember some dark stuff, but ultimately uses physical comedy as a coping mechanism (as per what Fred and George had said was their muse for pranks).

So, that’s it! I didn’t have much of a narrative ending to the explanation. But we now have one more chapter completed in the Black Family History Book. More to come soon!

#Harry Potter #hp headcanon #black family #Black Family Tree #weasley #arthur weasley #black family history #black family history book #cedrella black #cedrella weasley #septimus weasley #weasley family

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all-things-are-nothing-to-me · 6 years ago

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From Identity to Individualist: A Nihilist's Personal History in Leftism

Note: In this piece, I will be using '‘leftism’ and ‘identity politics’ more or less interchangeably, due to their often heavy overlap.

I grew up in a liberal household to liberal parents, and I had always had a preoccupation (some might say an obsession) with justice. From a young age, I would rage against the injustices committed against the trees felled behind our house, the mice killed in the snap traps, the insects caught by the glue paper, the deer shot by the hunters. “It’s not fair!” was a mantra oft screamed from my tiny mouth, and as I grew, it hardly changed.

In high school, I became acquainted with an ideology eager to exploit my enthusiasm for justice. I learned that the whole world was unfair – even more so than I had realized on my own. Same sex marriage, reproductive rights, and bodily autonomy became my first interests – predictably, since I discovered I was a queer bisexual and these things quickly became relevant to me in one way or another. Through these, though, I discovered more. The police shooting in Ferguson of Mike Brown introduced me to the idea that racism was alive and well, and learning this was an angry shock to my sheltered little white life. I couldn’t scream my will into being anymore, and I wanted to know what to do.

‘Listen’, responded the Activists (capital A – they presented themselves as The Only Authority). ‘Listen and do as we say.’

I learned all the Correct Language and the Correct Actions, so I would not be Problematic. I cringed and sucked through my teeth at all the Problematic People in my tiny rural town, and (I’m sure) a lot of people got very sick of me. I learned to be pure in thought, word, and action, so that I would not risk the ire of the Activists. There are certain things that must never be said, certain questions that must never be asked. Never question the People of Color.

My exposure to the Activists was purely online, primarily through Facebook, but after my first altercation, (where I failed to recognize a latinx queer on sight and was roundly shouted down by the whole group) I became much quieter. I listened without speaking – as white people were supposed to do. I didn’t realize until much later how much anxiety began to build in me whenever I entered these spaces, fearing that any misstep would result in my admonishment and potentially, my expulsion.

Still, I was unwilling to leave the Left behind. If this was justice, then I must submit myself, however uncomfortably, to the greater good.

Never mind my questions. Stuff them down deep.

I wondered how it was that white people were simultaneously supposed to ‘shut up and listen’, ‘make space for POC’, ‘don’t speak for POC’, but also ‘put yourselves on the front lines’, ‘call out problematic speech in white people’.

I questioned how, exactly, I was supposed to avoid speaking over POC and always ‘stay in my lane’ when POC I knew personally were telling me that they thought the talking points I got from the Activists were bullshit.

I stressed over wearing ‘cultural’ jewelry and clothing that I had purchased from people of that culture, knowing the party line instructed us to support POC artisans, but also knowing that if I wore these items, I would be subject to the same scrutiny as someone who had purchased them from a trendy department store.

I self-flagellated over past transgressions such as having dreadlocks, without ever really understanding what I had done wrong besides doing something I was forbidden from doing.

But I never dared to ask anyone else – least not the Activists.

I would like to tell you that my divorce from the Left was self-driven. I would like to tell you that I recognized the oppressive dynamics all by myself. But until I met others who were questioning the Left as well, I assumed that the only counter-faction was the Right, and I had grown up surrounded by enough of the Right to know I wasn’t interested in their brand. I saw no justice there, no world improvement.

The first time I met a post-leftist, (or if we’re being honest, the third or fourth time – the conditioning runs deep) I finally felt free to ask the questions I had buried. I felt free to poke holes where I had carefully preserved the delicate framework before. But this was not enough to topple everything – oh no. I still held on to the skeleton of justice.

‘Surely they mean well,’ I reasoned. ‘Surely this is an overgrown over-extension of a fundamentally good and just framework.’

And as if called by fate, I began to meet people who had been ‘called out’; people who had made transgressions so egregious that they had been banished from the circles of the Left. These transgressions ranged from accusations of physical abuse to vague allegations of being manipulative (typically without any specific incidents cited, but with full expectation that The Community support the victim without question).

Although each unique, these cases had common threads that ran through them.

As is customary in the Left, most began with a mediation and an accountability process – where a third party would meet with the accused and the accuser and theoretically, help them to reach an agreement about how the accused would atone for their behavior and improve themselves so they would not repeat it. Many of the folks I met either met these goals or were on their way to meeting them. Usually, meeting these goals was the condition for avoiding a call-out.

However, the accusers who had seemingly felt powerless in their interactions with the accused, now found that they had all the power. They controlled what actions the accused must take. They controlled the accused's place in the social hierarchy, and often, the accused's physical safety in the world.

This scenario, which in theory was sterile and completely just, became a tool for revenge. Regardless of whether the conditions of the accountability process were met, the call-out came. And as the call-out spread, across the internet and across the ‘community’, it became social suicide to associate with the accused. Being an ‘apologist’ is nearly on par with being an abuser.

The accused became a pariah. No defense, apology, or self-improvement is good enough when you are marked for life.

I began to wonder where the restoration was in this ‘restorative justice’.

And if we’re honest, this is where the tower I had built for myself finally fell. I had labored so long under the belief that we were all working selflessly, tirelessly, towards justice for all. When the veil was lifted, it became clear to me that the left was infested with wolves in sheeps’ clothing, manipulating the good will and efforts of earnest, well-meaning people.

Or, maybe we were all a little wolfish – although I had fancied myself a pure, earnest person, I could not deny my efforts to lord my ‘woke’ trivia over ‘non-woke’ friends. I had not set the dogs on anyone myself by issuing any statements, but I had helped to share and publicize them. I had not written any Everyday Feminism articles on why all your language and actions are racist/sexist/oppressive, but I had read them, shared them, and actively policed the people around me.

I just wasn’t interested in it anymore. I wasn’t interested in helping to create a society of unquestionable rigid social mores. I wasn’t interested in silently tallying each ‘problematic’ misstep of every individual around me – or quietly policing my own speech in constant fear that someone was doing the same to me. And I wasn’t interested in perpetuating the socially assigned identities that fed the hierarchies I wanted so badly to tear down.

Unlearning the set of behaviors that make up identity politics was a lot less about deciding I didn't care about hurting people (as I suspect a lot of leftists might assume) and a lot more about listening to what individuals wanted for themselves. Identity politics had taught me that any given social interaction came with a list of rules – and any transgression or mistake could be potentially very serious. For me, these rules became very isolating. I avoided interactions with people for fear of harming them or offending them.

When I began shedding these behaviors, I became more open and comfortable with the people around me. Rather than adhering to these strict rules, we felt free to communicate our individual desires. I could tell my friends that they could touch me freely, without feeling obligated to ask me each time. I could assure them that if I didn’t want to be touched at a particular time or in a particular way, I would communicate that to them.

My ‘POC’ friends could tell me what words and actions they were personally comfortable with, rather than feeling compelled to uphold some sort of community rules or morals.

My friends of all different socially constructed identities – by race, gender, sex, etc – could behave as they wished, without being concerned that they were fulfilling stereotypes or betraying their identities.

It’s far from utopian, but as leftism continues to demonstrate, utopia is impossible without authoritarianism.

#baba yaga #anti civ #anti identity politics #identity politics #leftism #anarchism #nihilism #post left anarchy #communism #social justice

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sege-h · 5 years ago

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Omfg I just remembered I had a Sonic Movie dream.

I remember like half of it, and from what I remember, I am like 99% sure it’s kinda batshit thanks to me wondering how tf a weird af musical like Cats exists.

Ok so the POV in the dream was that I’m at the cinema watching the movie. But it’s full on just showing the movie, not me sitting at the cinema, though I could like hear my thoughts as I watched.

The few things I remember are this.

Other than Tom, there were like 2 or 3 kids? I don’t remember them much, I just remember one. The one I remember was a little girl that was like 6 years old. She was VERY intelligent and acted more like an 14 year old or something-well, around her friends. She was fed up with people not taking her and her intelligence seriously and treating her like she’s just an imaginative 6 year old, so she’d kinda given up and tried to act her age most of the time, rather than showing her intellect.

These kids were like relatives of Tom’s or something?

Also Tom was???? A werewolf????? Everyone was ok with this. Like, everyone in his nbhd knew, and they were fine with this. I blame this entirely on that one trailer that we saw him wearing flannel in, since I kinda associate flannel with werewolves. Idk why.

Also there were these weird characters that also seemed to be after Sonic, unrelated to the government.

Like there was this dude who was a panther? And also this most stereotypical ‘trapper’ character that you see in a bunch of media where his schtick is trying to capture exotic or weird animals.

Other thing I remember is there being like this birthday party, with an ice cream truck? Sonic wanted to check it out so he jumped out the second story window of Tom’s house, and landed on the truck. Ofc there was a thud, so people looked up, and he sat there pretending to be just. Ice cream truck décor.

Tom came out in his werewolf form (during the day?) because he saw the panther guy prowling about. And he tried to gesture for Sonic to stay up on the truck, but Sonic thought he was calling him over. So he kinda tried to flop off the truck and sneak off.

But then the freakin trapper guy picked him up and was like “HA I KNEW THIS THING WAS REAL!”

But then the 6 year old was like ‘I’ll take care of this’ and on a dime started acting like, yknow, a 6 year old. Started screaming at the trapper guy and crying that he took her plush, and Sonic WAS keeping still. And everyone at the party thing stared at the trapper guy and made him uncomfortable af bc hes like ‘o crap it looks like im stealing this child’s toy!’

So he handed Sonic over. But the whole group had to pass by the highly suspicious panther guy with Sonic still pretending to be a plush.

And then they got into Tom’s car and drove off fast. And at this part I was like ‘wow this is the car scene from the trailer. But in the trailer its completely different! Tom is a human and none of the kids are present in the car!’

Btw this movie was a freakin musical, did I forget to mention?

Yeah. There were a few songs that I completely forgot, but I’m sure one was framed as Sonic just singing in the car to annoy Tom.

The last thing I remember, was there being a pool scene. There was this indoor pool, with these grates above it that led to stairs, so you could go down to the pool from them.

Sonic was sneakin around on them, and saw these kids at the edge there, and was just watching what they’re doing (they wanted to jump down in the water rather than go down the steps)

And Sonic wanted to do that too n was like ‘ok lemmie see how they do it!’

And apparently in dream-land, we’d seen a piece of the scene involving the pool. And it was of Sonic clinging to a pipe above the pool, lookin scared. So it was like, oh, we’ll see why he’s afraid of water apparently!

So he’s watching these kids from a corner, but a pool guard is walking from the other side of the grates. So Sonics like ‘omg cmon kids jump in already so I can do that too’ (his logic was that he’d jump and dive in and stay underwater where people would assume he’s just some kid, and then he’d get out at the side where the pool was p much empty)

So the kids jump in. And Sonic runs over and looks down.

But he gets kinda scared to jump in, so he put a towel on his head and tried to be all subtle while going down the stairs.

But then someone from the government showed up and was like ‘HEY YOU’ while he was halfway down, so he had to jump down.

He got out of the pool p much immediately and ran into the rest of the building where the pool was at.

He ran into Tom who was like ‘WHERE WERE YOU!?!’

But they had to run from the guy and ran into this lady. She was an older lady who worked as a lifeguard on weekends, and at a diner the rest of the week. She had red hair and she was p cheerful and nice. I think her dream was to be either a dancer or magician, and she didn’t care that she wasn’t a young thing anymore.

She’d apparently met Sonic before but was CONVINCED he was a kid in some kinda costume.

So he was like ‘plz help this mean man is chasing me <8c’

So she was like oh np!

And they were running from the government guy and they got to a corridor with lotsa doors. And there was electroswing playing in the bg??? And they started havin a Scooby Doo esque chase sequence thru the doors?????

That’s when I woke up and I felt a mixture of confusion like ‘idk whether I want that to be real or not’ and also a sense of ‘why cant the sonic movie be out already so I can watch it and get it off my mind’

#Sege and the dream rants #long post #It was fun to watch but it was also like 'what the hell is happening'

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aquarius-johnny · 6 years ago

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51 + 47 fluff with Johnny please 💖

“Trust me.” + “You make me feel alive.”

How you got involved with Johnny is a mystery to you too. One day you were studying in the library and the next thing you know Johnny had convinced you to ditch the books and you found yourself smoking with him behind the bleachers. You, miss goody two shoes who lives in the most cookie-cutter house in the suburbs of Chicago with your surgeon father and nurse mother. Your grades never slipped below a B and you certainly didn’t expect to associate with the bad boy of the school, Johnny Seo. You knew he was the person to call if you needed a fake ID or some drugs. Although a hoodlum in some people’s eyes, he was kind-hearted, charismatic, and smart. You were surprised he spent the whole year in school without getting expelled, but he knew what he was doing. Never carrying any illegal things on the school campus and certainly not selling anywhere close to the school. He built a loyal customer base who wouldn’t rat him out. Because of him, you snuck out for the first time, you went to your first house party, you witnessed a drug deal go down in person, and on top of that, you experienced your first kiss with Johnny - all in one night. He always said in order to see him, you wouldn’t let your grades drop or change how you acted, claiming he didn’t want to be the cliche bad boy stereotype. So you did just that, kept your grades up and attitude in check. It took you a while to notice how whipped you were for him, but little did you know you had him wrapped around your finger. Whenever you needed him, he was right there for you. Whenever he needed you, you were there. You started to see that he needed you a lot more than you needed him.

One night you hear a tap on your balcony’s sliding door. Johnny had somehow figured to use the house siding to get onto your balcony and taught you how to get down from it. You open the door like you usually did and were greeted with a kiss on the cheek. You admired how Johnny would slick back his dark hair and be able to look so good in a plain white t-shirt and jeans. You always thought he was a modern-day greaser.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked as he pulled you into him when he sat on the edge of your bed.

“I was in the neighborhood and I noticed your parents weren’t home.”

“Yeah, late night at the hospital, I guess. Probably won’t see them until I leave for school tomorrow.”

“Is that so?” He smirks. “How about you take a break from whatever you’re doing and come with me.”

“Where are we going?” You asked as you watched Johnny search your closet for his favorite jacket he let you “borrow.” Tossing it at you, you quickly throw it on. Not answering your question, you stop him before he opens the balcony door. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me where we’re going.”

Johnny sighs, placing his cold hands on your cheeks. “Trust me.” He simply states before giving you a kiss. “Can you do that?”

You nod your head and follow him down the side of your house and to his car. Heading into town, you enjoy the scenery from where you were. Stopping at a small shopping center, Johnny finds parking and you both quickly get out of the car. Hand in hand, he leads you to a tattoo shop you researched when you thought about getting a tattoo after high school was over. “What’re we doing here?” You asked Johnny as he opened the door for you.

“What do you think?” He smiles, thinking your obliviousness was adorable.

“You’re getting a tattoo? Isn’t this place expensive? And you need parental permission if you’re under 18.”

“No, just a touch-up. And I know someone,” he says waiting for someone to talk to once you two walk in.

“One of your customers?”

“No, my cousin is the owner. He’s doing me a solid.” He pauses for a moment, backtracking what you said previously. “Wait, how do you know about the prices?”

“Oh, I, uh, I looked this place up when researching where to get my first tattoo.”

Johnny’s brows shoot up and a smirk plays on his lips. “Little miss perfect wants a tattoo? I thought you wouldn’t want to taint your precious skin.” He jokes, taking one of the seats near the entrance. Pulling you onto his lap, you sling your arm around the back of his neck.

Before you could answer, a man covered in tattoos comes to greet Johnny. Based on the rapport, you assume it was his cousin. Turning to you, he gives you a smile. “And you must be Johnny’s girlf-” he starts before getting cut off by Johnny loudly clearing his throat.

“It’s gonna be quick right?” Changing the subject, you follow him into a room where he does his work.

Johnny’s cousin nods his head, instructs Johnny to take a seat, and remove his shirt. This was the first time you saw Johnny without his shirt and the slightly faded design of a previous tattoo. You could’ve sworn you almost fainted at the sight.

“Stop objectifying me,” he playfully teases as he catches you staring at him.

The sound of the needle catches your attention and you watch everything unfold as the artist retouches the design Johnny already had. After a while, he was finally done. Wrapping up the exposed wound, his cousin turns to you.

“Do you want one? It’s on the house.” He smiles and you notice Johnny raise an eyebrow, intrigued to know your response as he puts his shirt back on.

“Sure.” You were surprised by your answer and so was Johnny, but he doesn’t stop you. Showing the design you wanted by your ear, his cousin gets a new needle ready as you made yourself comfortable in the same spot Johnny once sat.

The most thrilling thing you’ve ever done comes to an end and you were happy with the results. Thanking him for everything, you blissfully walk out of the shop with Johnny.

“Were you okay in there?” Johnny asked concerned.

“Yeah,” you smiled from ear to ear.

“You’re really happy,” he laughs, stopping at the passenger’s side of the car, unlocking it for you.

“It’s going to sound really stupid and I will punch you if you laugh, but I feel so…alive,” you share. “You make me feel alive.” Feeling slightly embarrassed at your admission, you quickly get into the car.

Squatting to meet your eyes as you sat in the car, Johnny runs his hand through your hair. “I hope you always feel that way with me,” he confesses before giving you a long kiss against your soft lips.

#j*#johnny suh #nct johnny #js:fluff #au:hs!johnny #ask:prompts #ask #anon

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adapembroke · 6 years ago

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Leo Rising: Wearing the Mask of the King

One of the problems with archetypes is that they tend to get lost in time without anyone realizing it. The Warrior looks like a knight in shining armor long after the invention of machine guns. The Hermit looks like Gandalf, and so we forget to associate the archetype with John Muir and Thoreau. Another archetype that hasn’t updated well to the modern world is the King.

I would argue there are very few (if any) actual kings in the world anymore. Heads of state can get along quite well without channeling the King once in their entire careers. Even the monarchs that have kept their thrones and stay in the public eye no longer channel the King these days, as much as I like following the news about a certain royal family. With no royalty channeling the King, the archetype of the King has gotten lost in costume dramas that forget what kingship is more with each passing year.

This creates a problem for people who have a strong Leo in their birth charts. One of Leo’s archetypes is the King. There used to be a strong connection between Leo and royalty. Astrologers would gun for a strong Leo in their monarchs. Today, that idea would be laughable. Without a strong model to follow, the classic astrological formulas for Leo have fallen into the same stereotypes as kings: pompous, self-aggrandizing, attention-seeking, people-pleasing, and ultimately insecure. This is not what the King is, and it is not what Leo is supposed to be. Some would claim that we no longer live in a world of kings, and the King should be thrown away. I think this archetype gets at something essential. It’s probably due for a rebranding (hopefully, a gender-neutral one!), but getting rid of what the King represents would be a loss for everyone.

Fortunately, there are clues to what the King should be buried like fossils in the birth chart and in ancient texts from the age of kings.

The King That Was

In order to figure out what the King is, we need to start with what we know about the King from ancient times. My focus is going to be particularly on the Norse/Germanic model of kingship because that’s what I know, but the values of those societies are shared in other places as well. (See also: The Gift by Lewis Hyde.)

In modern times, we usually think of a king as someone who takes. The king wears the finest clothes and unspeakable wealth and eats the finest cuts of meat. This may have been true in the past, but how much a king took wasn’t what said “kingship” to people in the past. Diana Paxson explores the nature of kingship in Taking up the Runes. She say, “A standard epithet for a king in early English poetry is ‘ring-giver,’ and it is the generosity of a lord to his followers that earns his devotion.” It was dragons in the lore who hoarded wealth. Good kings gave it away. Generosity was a sign of power, and it was also a virtue. “It provided social lubrication; it was a way of recycling, the expression of ‘what goes around comes around’” (Paxson).

So, if we are going to look for the King in Leo. We need to start by looking for generosity.

The King Rising

Looking at all of the ways Leo can appear strongly in a birth chart would take too long, and this post is shaping up to be long as it is. I will focus on the Leo ascendant and its relationship with the earth signs. Another name for the King is the “earthly ruler,” after all. If you have a strong Leo in other houses, stick with me. What I have to say still applies to you.

One of the underexplored aspects of astrology are the patterns that arise when the relationships between the houses and signs are considered for different rising signs. I suspect the reason for this is that the whole sign house system has largely fallen out of favor. In Placidus, there is no way of knowing what house someone’s Virgo is going to be in, even if you know they have Leo rising. In whole sign houses, if Leo is rising, Virgo is always in the second house.

What does it say that Virgo is in the House of Money for someone with Leo rising? What does it say that Capricorn is in the House of Servants? That Taurus is in the House of Career? I would argue that it says quite a lot.

With Virgo in the second house, service and money are inextricably tied together. Virgo’s virtue is also perfection. In the second house, this means that Virgo’s drive to do better and better is directed toward money. Virgo is the sign of the servant, which means that someone with Virgo in the second house uses money to serve others. In the age of kings, a king that was generous but had nothing to give wasn’t filling the King’s social role. The King was obligated to lead the community in a lifestyle that meant they all prospered. For someone with Leo rising/Virgo in the second house, embodying this aspect of the King might take the form of becoming a wealthy philanthropist, or learning to be good at living on very little so that there is enough time to volunteer at a nursing home, or dedicating a lot of time and energy to perfecting a skill that is then given away to the community.

Following the earth signs around the wheel, we come to Capricorn in the sixth house. Steven Forrest says in The Inner Sky that Capricorn is “the marriage of one’s nature and one’s public identity.” The sixth house is associated with Virgo, and once again we come to the idea of service. Traditionally, the sixth house told you something about your servants. The King is theoretically charismatic figurehead leader who usually needs a prime minister behind the scenes to deal with the unglamorous paperwork and number crunching. Capricorn is the sign of the Prime Minister, so having Capricorn in the House of Servants suits Leo nicely.

Given what we already know about Virgo and the second house, I would argue for a different interpretation of Capricorn in the sixth house. One of my nicknames for the sixth house is the House of Day Jobs. This means that the sixth house tells us something about the day job of the King. In this view, it is the job of the King to do the work of the Prime Minister. No handing the job off to a schmuck who does all the work while you get the glory. A person who participates in the archetype of the King has the Capricorn-ish ability to develop the skill to make the trains run on time, and they use this ability in service to the community.

Looking at the last earth sign, we come to Taurus in the tenth house. The tenth house is called the House of Career traditionally. Since most of us think of our sixth house day jobs as our careers, the difference between the tenth house and the sixth house needs some explaining. The sixth house is what you do to be of service. It’s often the thing people pay you money for. The tenth house is the thing you feel called to do, the role you feel called to play in the community. Often, this is unpaid. A person might really strongly identify with their political party, or they might be an artist who needs to sell lattes to survive.

For someone with Taurus in the tenth house, that mission is tied to Taurean things. Taurus is associated with the second house. (Do you see the pattern between the houses and signs?) We’re coming again to the idea of money, but Taurus builds on that. Taurus is not just about accumulating resources. That stereotype is a way the archetype has been twisted. Taurus is about developing inner security. Outer security can contribute to a sense of inner security, but we can all name people who have a lot of material resources and are deeply insecure.

This means that for someone embodying the King with Leo rising, the thing they are called to embody for the community is a sense of security. Once again, we return to the king as ‘ring-giver,” but there is more to it than that. The King develops inner security and then leads others in developing that security for themselves. There were dim embers of this dying flame still burning in the early days of the French Revolution. Despite the decadence at court, the peasants in the countryside had a deep faith in the king. They believed that the famines and high taxes were caused by the king’s greedy advisors. “If only the king knew about this,” they said. “He would fix everything.” The idea of the King gave the peasants such a deep sense of security that they were willing to ignore real poverty for years before they revolted.

The King That Is

The picture I’ve painted of the King couldn’t be further from the stereotypes that surround Leo. The King is generous. Leo is a spendthrift. The King’s security is contagious. Leo is deeply insecure. The King serves. Leo is served.

It would be easy at this point to sound like Great Aunt Gertrude and complain about kids these days not learning manners, but I would argue that the vices of Leo are created by the fact that it is difficult to find a place in society to express Leo in a healthy way.

The deep security that allows a tenth house Taurus to represent inner security for others comes from the firm foundation created by the second house Virgo and sixth house Capricorn. Look at a chart with Leo rising, and you’ll see that the earth signs create a triangle with the base at the bottom of the chart, parallel the horizon. The triangle is the most solid, secure shape. Service is the foundation of the triangle that creates the strength necessary for that deep sense of security to rise to the heights. Service isn’t just about clocking hours, though. It’s about the deep knowledge that you have something to give.

Believing that you have something to give is the height of arrogance in my society. People who win awards are expected to not just acknowledge the people who supported them. They’re expected to say, “Well, it wasn’t really me that did this. It was really all of these other people.” This is supposed to make up for centuries of the rich and powerful getting the credit for the work of armies of invisible peasants, but this doesn’t really solve the power problem, and it creates a terrible situation for Leo.

It is often said that narcissists (one of the potential shadow faces of Leo) feel insecure because they feel like Nobody, and they need the constant reflection of themselves from other people to reassure them that they exist. (This is called narcissistic supply.) Leo falls into pit of feeling like Nobody when it thinks it has nothing to give. Whatever sign the sun is in, a person with Leo rising finds the foundation of their identity in generosity. They feel like themselves when they’re giving things away. The more valuable their gifts, the more valuable they feel. When a Leo is pressured to believe that having something to give is the height of arrogance, they they don’t become humble. They fall into narcissism or low-self esteem.

The King That Will Be

So, what do you do if you have a strong Leo in a world that doesn’t understand the King?

There’s a saying in the evolutionary astrology circles that the cure for a dysfunctional sign is in the sign that comes after it in the zodiac wheel and the sign opposite it.

We’ve already explored the importance of Virgo for Leo. A healthy Leo needs to engage in acts of service. It needs to perfect its service and really shine it up until it feels like it has something to offer. If you don’t have a strong Virgo in your chart, you might have a hard time with Virgo’s discernment skills. Virgo doesn’t just need to feel helpful. It needs to be helpful, and all of that grounded, pragmatic earth energy helps it tell the difference between the two. If you don’t have a lot of that, don’t beat yourself up if you find out later that you were halping more than helping.

Investing in service is only part of the cure for Leo’s ills. The ability to be of service and not fall on the false modesty that would require you to dismiss what you’ve done requires courage, and that courage comes from taking a page out of Aquarius’s book. Aquarius doesn’t need to work at not giving a shit about what other people think. That attitude comes naturally Aquarius, and it’s medicine for Leo.

Leos are often told not to be so arrogant. There is one area where it is essential for Leo to ignore this advice: Being proud of being generous.

Encouraging Leo to feel pride might sound like encouraging narcissism, but it isn’t. The “pride” that causes Leo to search for narcissistic supply is so dangerous because it’s like living on cheetos for Leo. Narcissistic supply “reassures” Leo that they’re valuable in vague ways, but it doesn’t actually give the sense of self-worth the Leo is seeking. It doesn’t allow them to see the ways they’re being generous and creating security for others, which is the core of their identity.

The pride that comes from being of service is a vitamin that Leo needs. Without seeing evidence of doing good in the world, Leo feels invisible. In a normally functioning society, gratitude is the natural reward for giving. Gratitude holds up a mirror and shows a genuinely positive image of the person who gives. Society is becoming more aware of the need to represent all kinds of people in art and the media. When society enforces false modesty, it creates a similar problem. Acts of generosity and service become invisible, along with the person who did them. When those acts of service are at the core of your identity, the withholding of gratitude and the invisibility that comes with it saps your sense of self-worth. It creates the sense that “no matter what I give, it isn’t enough,” and the desperately starving Leo turns to narcissistic snack food to get their needs met.

If society isn’t going to provide that mirror, Leo is going to have to provide it for themselves. Some people have a practice of writing down all of the things they’re grateful for every day. For Leo, it would actually be more useful to turn that practice on its head. Every night, make a list of the things you did to help other people, the ways in which you were of service, the way you made people’s lives better for being around. You will know this exercise is working because you will feel like a plant in the sun, as if you can live on the glow you get thinking about the way you’ve made people’s lives better. That feeling is as far from narcissism as Earth is from the sun.

#lost archetypes #witchblr #astrology #leo #ascendant #taurus #capricorn #virgo #1st house #2nd house #6th house #10th house

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cloudybookash-blog · 6 years ago

Note

25-50

Soooo… I take forever to do these things, sooooorrryyyy!

26. What would your character say their best trait would be?

Idk, probs that she’ s nice or something? I literally have never thought about how my characters feel about themselves???

Great start!

27. What is your character’s greatest fear? Deep, irrational?

That she ends up accidentally, or even intentionally, like her father in her attempt to over throw his rule. I’d say she’s terrified to become a hypocrite, all these years facing against her family and the way the rule/conduct themselves to end up doing or being exactly like them would be nightmare inducing for her.

28. What is currently motivating your character to stay with the party?

She killed the other party… In all fairness, it was an accident.

But for real, before meeting her current Crew™ her biggest fear was leading her Old Party and being shunned by the very peoples with who she was coming to aid/save. Of course, she stays with them because at the end of the day she loves them and enjoys their company but there are obviously a lot of other reasons to stay: she doesn’t know the land (her Old Party were going to teach her when they reached ‘safety’), she doesn’t have any ties on the new planet apart from a single group of rebels from her home world who aren’t the easiest on the eyes, she hardly speaks the language or understands the customs/culture of this new planet, and probably even more that I haven’t thought about. Bottom line is that she needs them.

On a happy note, they need her too.

29. What are your character’s hobbies and interests outside of their class?

I’m translating these q’s for a book and I don’t know enough about dnd (or my fucking characters for that matter) to answer.

30. What would most people think when they first see your character?

Tall. Like, freakishly tall.

31. What stereotypical group role does your character play in the party? (The Mom, the Mess, the Comic Relief, etc. Optionally: What role would your character play in the “Five Man Band” structure?)

Well, she’s technically the leader I guess. It’s kind of her quest they’re all on but at the same time the others tend to take her place leading the sub groups while she figures out a plan. I guess she might be The Man in The Chair or Behind the Curtain.

32. What is your character the most insecure about?

Maybe her intelligence, like not being the smartest person in the room. She’s known (even on the new planet) for being super strong and a great fighter, but she detests that viewpoint because it makes it difficult for people (and herself) to differentiate between the ‘bad guys’ in her family and the ones who’ve been fighting the Good Fight, like her.

33. What person does your character admire most?

I think I’ve answered this before and it had something to do with liking people who could be strong and caring at the same time. Or something sappy like that.

34. What does your character admire and dislike the most about the player character sitting to your left?

Translating for a book her so I’ll answer about how my character feels about the other four members of the main cast:

J: PRO: very understanding, never have to explain or defend herself to him - he always gets it. CON: not who she thought he would be.ME: PRO: loyal, despite having their little spats, at the end of the day ME would die for her. CON: not very understanding.HH: PRO: funny, can relax the whole mood at a moments notice. CON: reckless, is usually the only reason they get into trouble.M: PRO: is the closest to her in age and as a result is like her best friend, there’s almost nothing she hates about M. CON: I literally can’t think of one Z could have against M.

35. Why is your character’s lowest stat their lowest (the in-character reason, not “because there’s no reason for a wizard to have 16 strength, duh”)?

Not applicable.

36. What would be your character’s theme song/favorite band/favorite genre of music?

Something folky?

37. What stereotypical role would your character play in a high school AU/if they attended a normal high school? (Nerd, jock, bully, goth, etc.)

A toss up between the Loner or the Class President.

38. What treasure/item/artifact that your character has collected during the adventure is the most important to them?

She doesn’t/can’t really collect stuff, survival mode, y’know.

39. Is there any particular weapon, item, etc. that your character longs to find?

No? Her fight isn’t after something material.

40. Where does your character feel the most at home?

I think I’ve tried answering this before and couldn’t answer, probably at her Uncle’s place though, because it has the best memories for her.

41. Does your character care about how they’re perceived by others? How do they change themselves to fit in with other people?

I think yes, as she’s keeping her identity a secret. As a result I’d say she tends to distance herself out of fear of slipping up that she’s related to the enemy. Her entire plan rest on being supported by a lot of people and the idea that where she comes from could hurt her chances of success would be stressful.

42. What does your character think is the true meaning of life?

Broooo, this too deep for 10:41am.

43. What is your character’s scent? (Bonus points for a description that sounds like it could be from a bad [or awesome] fanfic.)

lol, B.O. probably, she’s a preteen running around in the woods.

44. Does your character think more with their heart or their brain?

Heart.

45. What is your character’s most recent or frequent nightmare?

I don’t wanna be cliché and say the murder of her older brother and mother, or her fear of failing overall but… I’m gonna be cliche and say those are the two things she probably has nightmares over.

46. What opinion does your character have on [CERTAIN ESTABLISHED GROUPS/AUTHORITIES IN THE GAME WORLD]? (Dragonmarked Houses, royal crown, etc.)

There are a lot of little, influential groups that she comes across and some of them live up to her expectations and others don’t. Overall, she has the opinion that any group in a position of power needs to do more harm than good, and act as both protector and provider to their people. That’s regardless of whether they’re just a random clan that walk around together, or the ‘police-type unit’ in this world, or the political rulers, she doesn’t care how small your reach is, if you rule - you better do it well.

47. How did your character spend their childhood? Where did they grow up/who were their childhood friends?

Pretty sure I’ve answered this before? Um, just recap I guess - she was born second heir to the throne on her world, spent her childhood hanging out with her Guard, learning and training under royal tutors and trainers. Fucked up along the way and got her ass banished, was sad, lived with her uncle who subsequently became her teacher for everything, and spent quality time with her brother as a result, she was then welcomed back out of banishment for a short period of time before she ‘defected’. And, technically, she’s still a child, so the contents of the book are her ‘growing up’ so to speak.

48. What aspect of your character’s future are they most curious about? (If they could know one thing about the future, what would it be?)

Whether they’ll die before they achieve their goals. Morbid I know, but this is war.

49. What colors are associated with your character?

Blue, Black, Purple and White.

50. Who in the party would your character prioritize rescuing, in dire circumstances?

Probably M or HH, both J and ME prove themselves to be able to get out of any situation on their own but sometimes HH can get overwhelmed or distracted and then can’t save himself and M has yet to prove herself as capable enough to handle anything that comes her way.

#lol don't expect the other two q's to be answered any time soon #I got called into work and now im tired #writing #wip #crafiet #wassup bruh

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vmfx · 4 years ago

Text

RANDOMS AND BLANKS.

Summertime draws to a close. The kids are going back to school to pursue not only their careers but also young college girls, ridiculous party weekends soaked in alcohol and day-after results of blackout gaffes posted on Facebook. As usual when summer is over, my manager scrambles to fill in the blanks for adequate staffing.

He has hired every walk of life imaginable. Everyone, from 45 year-old has-beens, sleepy-time addicts wearing low-cut blouses with short skirts, round-the-clock drunks, and future sexual predators, each one besting the last. None, however, raced out of the gate as fast as Kieran.

He started working with us during Labor Day weekend. Real upbeat, eager to learn, lots of energy. We both associated real well and he laughed hard at all my jokes and stories I had. Kieran, on the other hand, wasn’t joking when he told me about his stories, mostly random and out of leftfield. Such as when he disclosed to me about his ADHD and how he took lithium to treat it. That was not the reason why he was kicked out of his house from the last episode: that went to his previous stint as a male stripper.

During one busy weekend taking care of a huge mob of customers, he randomly nudges me for my attention. We both hurdle behind the counter.

“You see that lady I’m helping out that’s right in front of you?” smiled Kieran.

“Is that your ma’?”

“No, that’s my 3rd grade teacher. I stabbed her. I got kicked out of school for it.” laughed Kieran.

“You what?”

“Yeah. I stabbed her. Wait, hold on…Mrs. McNaneman? I’m Kieran. Remember me? I was a student of yours years ago!”

I look over my shoulder through the corner of my eye as his victim teacher customer frantically denies herself when she realized it was her former student that attacked her. It was not the only nudge I got from Kieran as the next day he tells me about another wonderful stunt of his.

“Hey, you see that black chick I’m helping out?”

“What about her?” This cannot be good, I thought.

“She’s my next-door neighbor. I fucked her” grinned Kieran as he pressed me to buy his latest back-flips and cartwheels.

**********

One week passes and our daring cowboy Kieran has already given away enough ammunition for his fellow co-workers to shoot back at him. The claims were so outrageous that the drama kings behind the counter were alread talking about him as the latest piece of hot news. It was discovered that Kieran just got engaged to his girlfriend of six weeks after he met her on an online dating site. But these male fishwives gave it up when they realized that it was his decision to be happy and it had nothing to do with them.

Kieran still lived his life spontaneously as so much complicated. He even brought the chaos to work with him when, one evening walking away from the kitchen, I am introduced to a stand-off between him and a father-son duo across the counter. The father gives up and walks away, but his 50-year old son decided to stay and defend his family honor. A verbal firing match ensues between the son, Kieran, and another kid DeGennaro.

“Leave right now. If you don’t like it, go talk to the manager” said Kieran’s ally.

“I don’t need to talk to the fucking manager!” the son fired back.

This is what I run into. The shot heard around the store stopped half the shoppers dead in their tracks. The commotion lasts around two minutes before the duo splits and everyone else in the store moves on with their lives. Kieran frantically tells me the whole story while riding a 90 mile-an-hour heartbeat. All he did was make a joke with the father, but the son took it a little too seriously. Obviously Kieran was shaken. Eventually the order was sealed and delivered to the father, and Kieran & Friends resumed their duties. It was over.

..or so we thought. Thirty minutes later, someone pays us a visit.

“Which one of you guys just disrespected my father? I want to know. NOW.” A vicious and angry daughter of the family, complete with a Long Island circus seal dialect, was looking for some heat. It was about to go down.

My co-workers and I were caught off-guard not only because we didn’t expect it, but with such venom and razor-sharp veracity towards us. I kept my mouth shut as one of my guys denied himself. And then we have Kieran, who slipped and gave himself away.

“It was YOU!” The daughter fingers him as the fire-starter with a big bolt of lightning.

“My father who is mentally ill and had just come out of the hospital was looking forward all day to go shopping. How would YOU like it if someone disrespected YOUR father?”

This woman had absolutely no shame as she turned the entire market into a one-woman pageant with her trash talk-show performance. She reduced Kieran to a young deer in truck headlights as she constantly threw verbal punches, not allowing him one single opportunity to defend himself let alone say a complete word. All the customers, cashiers, and bystanders froze in their tracks to see this loudmouth stereotype completely fly off the handle. Soon after, our manager / ex-police officer Doug comes over and attempts to perform animal control to calm the beast down. As he nods his head to try and reason with the lady, she calls him out with a big “you don’t care!”, walks away from him and out of the store, thus declaring herself that day’s winner and champion.

And all that Kieran ever did was told a joke to her father.

**********

It took two weeks before Kieran was let go. Being an hour-and-a-half late did him in, or so we believe. I had nothing bad to say about him. My co-worker friends think otherwise. They were considered normal compared to Kieran and his silly antics that he brought to the table. No one knows where he is now and no one cares unless they wanted to discuss how fucked up he was, a customer reminded us again.

“So how was it working with Kieran?” says an older man stopping by for an order. We all turned around wondering how he knew such a thing. DeGennaro gave him a total timetable of two weeks and he was right.

“Two weeks? I’m surprised he lasted that long!” says the old man. We all laughed because it was true. “I’ve known Kieran since he was born. Man, that kid’s a short bus!”

We all burst out laughing. DeGennaro had a curiosity, and stepped up to the plate.

“So, how’s his mom doing? I heard she recently had a heart attack” he inquires.

“What heart attack? She never had one!” said the man.

“Wow…must’ve been a miraculous recovery!” DeGennaro was surprised.

We all turned to each other wondering how Kieran could ever do such a thing. We all declared this an unforgivable cardinal sin for Kieran to fake his mother’s death and to lie about his own family like that. We were all swindled.

#VMFX #Long Island #wow #whoa #drama #WTF #personal

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freedomsoapbox · 7 years ago

Text

Dear “Moderate” Liberal Millennial Christians: It’s Time To Pick A Side

I went to a conservative Christian high school. Most of my friends from high school are Christian. It may surprise you to learn that many of them are liberal Democrats or Democrat sympathizers, though if you yourself went to a Christian high school this may not surprise you at all.

It’s no secret that many Americans who claim to be Christian are liberal Democrats. But I mention the phenomenon of graduates from Christian high schools being (often becoming sometime during their senior year if my suspicions and experience are any indication) openly liberal to highlight the known fact that even conservative Christian institutions are producing, attracting, and harboring liberal activists.

I say “liberal activists” because, in my generation at least, there is no other type of liberal. Donald Trump’s election has resulted in what few of them were not openly political effectively being conscripted into The Resistance. Most of those millennial liberals who went to my high school are not as extreme as the stereotypical college feminist. They don’t talk about “safe spaces”, they don’t sympathize with Antifa (at least not openly), and most will be careful not to be seen defending Planned Parenthood too loudly. Their activism is mostly restricted to Facebook, just like most activism from liberals and conservatives alike seems to be restricted to Facebook.

But being friends on Facebook is enough to know which side they have picked. And as moderate as they may try to appear, they have picked a side. A few shared memes, liked posts, etc. communicate that they are members of The Resistance, even if they are only part of the reserve force.

I have also been able to intuit what they tend to think of the group comprised of me and the other students from my high school who chose to remain, or even become, conservative Christians. Now I want to make it clear that none of these liberal classmates have ever individually disrespected or mistreated me, and I have good relationships with most of them. But as a whole, they view us as relatively intelligent peers who have simply not been fortunate enough to break away from the mental shackles imposed on us by our church denomination through our parents and the conservative faculty at our high school. I could picture their collective advice to us being something like “Dr. Peterson (made up name of our Dean of Students) isn’t here anymore to fine you for not wearing a belt. You need to take some of what they taught us at that school with a grain of salt.”

That’s not to say I think all of them necessarily thought the strict dress code at our school was a bad thing, but the point is that our high school was very conservative, had its share of nonsense and bullshit from the administration, and in general they are kind of glad to be away from it. Well, I know for a fact that I and several other of my conservative peers are glad to be away from that place as well, but liberal millennials tend to view themselves as supporting characters in a real-life dystopian story, and it is clear that these liberal graduates view our Alma Mater as being beholden to the conservative dystopia that is currently headed but not entirely controlled by Donald Trump. And as for their classmates who also remain beholden to this dystopia, we’re kind of like that kid in the terrible movie Dead Poets Society who ratted out the Society to the school administration and got Mr. Keating fired, not because he really wanted to but simply because the agents of the dystopia convinced him that it was the right thing against his better judgement. They, on the other hand, are standing on their desks, and they are trying to convince us that it’s alright to do so.

This dynamic is not unique to alumni from Christian high schools. It is the same attitude with which many of the more “moderate” liberals of all age groups regard their conservative friends. It’s not that we’re bad people, it’s just that we don’t get it. It is the same attitude conveyed a little more condescendingly in articles like this, which explains a study that purports to demonstrate that being a steadfast conservative is often reducible to having stronger primal self-preservation instincts than liberals. If you want to drop the clinical facade and judge the article as the propaganda piece that it clearly is, what the author is really saying is that conservatives in middle America, by and large, are at best the unfortunate victims of repressed mild emotional trauma from our parents never letting us leave the house alone until age 13 for fear of kidnapping, and at worst atavists whose genetically predetermined responses to stimuli are more fitting for societies of a more, ahem, simple state of development. But don’t worry, society needs folks who possess such mindstates as well, after all the root of such attitudes is a healthy drive for safety and prudence (wink wink).

You see the liberals in my friend circles, especially liberal Christians who went to my high school, like to share articles like this on social media. They will also, without directly addressing us conservative peers, delineate on how such findings relate to the rise of Nazism and other hyper-nationalist movements in a manner that they no doubt think is erudite.

First of all, as a quick aside, I’d like to address this narrative of the rise of Nazism. Someone needs to point out that while the ability to regurgitate this tired thesis that Hitler was able to rise to power by manipulating people’s primal urges in a population that was starving and war-traumatized, by giving them an internal enemy (the Jews) to project their fear and bitterness onto, and by promising them a better life while not telling them very much about the uglier side of his agenda until they had been fully initiated, on an essay exam may have impressed your AP World History teacher, it is at best an oversimplification of history and at worst disingenuous. Germany in the 1930s was not just a country of poor farmers and unemployed Great War veterans who simply let themselves be led down Hitler’s path to hell before they realized their mistake. The fact of the matter is that Weimar Germany was already a society of people who by and large did not value freedom and democracy and which already suffered from widespread moral bankruptcy before Hitler became prominent. Hitler did not recruit the Brownshirts by inviting young men with no future to be part of something greater than themselves so much as he simply organized and militarized the criminal element of several major cities to serve his purposes. The Germans had to be carpet-bombed and then occupied before they were ready to finally be a part of the civilized West. And any attempt to connect the narrative of the Nazis to the rise of Trump is, you know, stupid.

But anyway, getting back to the point, I’m focusing on my liberal peers from Christian high schools across the nation because I know that we, conservative millennial Christians, will have to deal with them in the not-so-distant future. My liberal classmates may not have much respect for the conservative traditions of our school, but they will likely comprise a large share of the school’s future teachers, staff, PTO leaders, Alumni Association officers, and major donors. And that’s a problem. We know where their loyalties lie, and it is with the Democratic Party first and Christ and His church second. You cannot be a loyal Democrat and have those priorities reversed. These people will be leaven within the church’s institutions. We’ve seen what their so-called “moderate” liberal parents from the Boomer generation can do to such institutions simply by being tolerated within them even if most of them don’t go out of their way to be liberal activists. And they will be active soldiers in the war against conservatism and Christianity, whether they know it or not.

And so I’d like to address the remainder of this piece to those people. Not just my liberal classmates, but all moderate liberal Christians of my generation (hereafter “you”):You have picked a side, and it is the wrong one. You think that we conservative millennial Christians (hereafter “we”) are on the “wrong side of history”, but it is actually you who have chosen the wrong side. You may very well have chosen the winning side, but your side remains objectively, morally wrong (alternative title for this piece: Some Things Young Conservative Christians Wish We Could Say To Our Liberal Christian Friends If You Guys Would Hear Us Out).

We can still be friends. We have remained friends with you even after you have indirectly called us homophobes, fundamentalists, reactionaries, woman-haters, and the like. Many of you have not directly addressed us so to our faces, but we happen to fall into the group of people whom you regard as such. Nevertheless, we remain your friends.

But you need to realize that we have also chosen a side, and it is decidedly against everything you stand for. That does not mean we stand against justice, fairness, charity, and the like. It’s just that those are the things you claim to stand for, and I am speaking of the things that you are actually willing to stand for. When the chips are down, you will stand for the evil of abortion. You will stand for middle school students being forced to share shower facilities with members of the opposite sex, including adults. You will stand for police officers being railroaded by the media and the justice system for doing their job in cases where a young black man happens to end up dead.

And you will stand for the persecution of Christians. Specifically, you will stand for the persecution of Christians who have not thrown their lot in with the American persecutors of Christians, which means eventually that you will stand for the persecution of us.

For example, whenever you guys rail against a certain Christian artist or business owner for not accommodating a same-sex couple or someone who identifies as transgender, it never seems to occur to you that your Christian friends on the other side of the political aisle could and probably will be in that same position in the future. We are afraid to open our own businesses or go into creative professions because we know that the minute we cross the LGBT agenda, or possibly the abortion agenda, we are liable to have our lives destroyed by the government.

And you support this. You will side with the government when they come to take our businesses away from us or even impose criminal sanctions. Perhaps you will reason that it is regrettable but necessary, and that it’s our own fault in the end for resisting civil rights.

You know, I’m not going to go as far as to pull out the “if you’re a liberal Christian then you’re not really a Christian” card here, but Jesus does have some strong words of warning for those who persistently side with the world over Him. We all side with the world over Him, and we all do so often. Even the Apostles did. But you have formally chosen a side, declared it, and it happens to be the side that is waging war against Christ and His Church.Your excuses that you would actually be furthering Christ’s love are totally hollow. Jesus would not have baked a cake for a gay “wedding” (or built a gay couple a house to live in, being a carpenter), he would not (does not) support Planned Parenthood, and he would not (does not) support the gender transition process. If you disagree with this, you are disagreeing with Him, the Apostle Paul, not to mention the Church Fathers along with every serious prominent theologian throughout the history of Christianity until the past three or four decades. Of course, the church fathers never spoke about transgenderism, but that’s only because it is an insane demonic dystopian agenda that even the ancient pagans could hardly have conceived. They did speak on abortion and gay marriage, and their opinions on the matter hold a lot more weight than yours. Ecumenically speaking, the scholarship on these matters, along with evolution and some other things, within Christianity is as settled as you claim the scholarship is on climate change. The denominations and clerics that claim otherwise do so ashamedly and uneasily, and can accurately be described as “Bible deniers”. And don’t try to bring lame arguments regarding shellfish and eating pork into this, because those arguments have been quite thoroughly debunked, and if you haven’t heard the debunking it’s only because members of your side ban us from the message boards (one of the things that annoy us about debating with you liberal Christians is that, while you guys are generally more willing to at least debate us in the first place than your more extreme SJW allies, many of you have a tendency to need to have very basic theological concepts explained to you as if you've never heard them before. It makes it difficult for the discussion to progress when we constantly have to stop and do your liberal pastor's job for him.)

Of course, I wouldn’t expect that to hold much weight with atheists and hardcore secularists who don’t believe the Bible to have any authority anyway. They have chosen their side, and they are proud of it. But at least they won’t be attending a Christian college claiming to want an authentic Christian education and then working to tear down Christianity within that institution.

Your Christian brothers and sisters are being persecuted by the side you have chosen, and you will be required to assent to and sometimes participate in the persecution in order to be a loyal member of your Resistance. Although the gap may be closing, you are still the out-group within American Christianity, and yet you demand equal (greater) say and status. You call our kind Pharisees while enabling our persecution at the hands of the side you have chosen. You have gone out of your way to declare yourselves “allies” to every group from gays to transgenders to feminists to Muslims, but we never seem to part of your alliance. Not that we would want to, because you’re allied with enemy powers.

You see, we don’t disagree with you because we are more afraid or less college-educated or whatever else you have in mind. We disagree with you because the Bible is on our side, the facts are on our side, common sense are on our side, and moral principles are on our side, and not yours. We showed you footage of Planned Parenthood trafficking in baby parts, and you ignored it. You might be a little uncomfortable with it, but you would never be as vocally outraged as when a police officer shoots a black person and it gets the attention of the national media, despite the fact that in almost every single case your side has been objectively and completely wrong about both the facts and the law of the matter.

This is the point where many of you decide to pull out the “personally opposed” card. Mainly, you will use this card in the abortion debate, since you have long ago given up pretending to be “personally opposed” to gay marriage (although you might be one of the few left who will admit the inability to defend gay “marriage” on Biblical grounds but simply sidestep the issue by repeating the lie that the Constitution requires the government to recognize it even though it does no such thing, which is to say you think that the despot Supreme Court has absolved you of having to make any further defense of this abomination to others or to your own conscience) or gender conversion. Conveniently, you have already passed the point of having to worry about being a scared freshman girl who now has to share a locker room with a boy. And come to think of it, you’ve also conveniently passed the point of having to worry about being aborted. I’d just like to point out that your sudden “personally opposed” fig leaf when it comes to especially morally uncomfortable topics like abortion kind of clashes with your persona as a fighter for justice in the face of dystopia.

Of course you don’t have to use that card often, because compared to your more extreme, non-Christian contemporaries, most of the political talk we hear from you centers around the somewhat less controversial topics like gun control, immigration, environmentalism, welfare, etc. Much of what you have to say concerns how “uncaring” our side is more than it does any actual evidence, but at least you could hold the Democrat positions on such issues and still theoretically be a member in good standing of Christian orthodoxy. These are issues that the Bible does not give explicit guidance on like abortion and gay “marriage”. But there are still two main problems with you siding with Democrats on these issues. The first is that in most cases your opinions are wrong, often unconstitutional, and easily debunked. But more importantly for your case specifically, even your stances on these issues and the way you argue them betray a mentality that is fundamentally at odds with traditional Christianity. For example, when you argue that the New Testament commands us to accept waves of refugees from Islamic nations, or to expand the welfare state, or raise the minimum wage, or whatever else you think is “caring”, claiming that “Jesus would want it”, you are twisting His words and putting your own words in His mouth, you know, like how you claim we are doing whenever we articulate what the Bible clearly says about homosexuality. Twisting the words of the Bible to make them say something they do not and advance an agenda that is not Biblical is called heresy. Heresy is not something people who have chosen the side of God should be comfortable with. The Bible leaves room for Christians to disagree on the worldly, practical merits of things like welfare, immigration policy, and gun control. It does not leave room for you to make Jesus the champion of causes he never took up, especially since there is no reason to believe Jesus would take up a political cause despite most of the evidence being clearly against it.

What’s more, your championing of such lesser causes is often used as a fig leaf to deflect from your moral cowardice concerning bigger issues like abortion and homosexuality. You know you can’t win a serious theological argument about those issues, so you, like the Pharisees, make a show of how “caring” you are for others, mostly by making arguments that have no factual basis and usually require someone else to do the “caring” for you. And in so doing, you show signs of where your loyalties lie. When you got angry about Harambe being shot, you betrayed your anti-life colors, because many of your arguments boiled down to the implication that the kid somehow deserved to be mauled by a gorilla or at least that the gorilla had an equal right not to be shot as the human child had to not be mauled at the zoo. When you defended Michael Brown and said his death was a murder in bold spite of overwhelming evidence to the contrary, you betrayed your warped sense of justice or general disdain for true justice. Whenever you demand that the welfare state be expanded or advocate socialism, you ignore the evidence reagarding the welfare state and socialism. Ignoring the evidence regarding such issues does not automatically reveal that you harbor anti-Christian values, but it does indicate that you care more about your public image than you do about the lives and families that have been destroyed by the welfare state and socialism, especially when you ignore the historical link between the abortion agenda and the welfare state and population control and socialism (or environmentalism).

And when you protest against the Trump administration for wanting to favor Christian refugees from Islamic countries despite that making every kind of humanitarian sense while simultaneously demanding that millions of unchecked Muslim men be let in and allowed to stay indefinitely, one has to wonder: whose side are you on?

And if most of what I have said does not actually describe you, if you actually are appalled by abortion, would defend my rights as a business owner if I were ever targeted by a vindictive gay couple, if you are willing to take an evidence-based or at least moderate and balanced approach to immigration and environmental regulations, and you don’t want to put cops in prison for doing their sworn duty, then one has to ask: why have sided with the American left?

Note: “Trump scares me” is not a good reason. I was a firm “Never Trump” conservative in 2016, and did not vote for him. That didn’t cause me to throw my lot in with the party that wants to force me to fund Planned Parenthood.

And one more thing: your more extreme secularist liberal friends that have gone full-SJW are not impressed with you. They aren't impressed with your virtue-signaling, they aren't impressed with the constant apologies you make for us, they aren't impressed with your attempts to prove yourselves as [the Christians that are cool and will respect you](http://thefederalist.com/2015/12/02/an-other-christian-responds-to-buzzfeeds-questions-christians-have-for-other-christians/) while treating us like an uncle who sometimes says racist things at Thanksgiving dinners but whom you love anyway. To them, you're still in the same group of square losers as us, it's just that they may think there is a little more hope for you.

I realize my words so far have been harsh, but they could be a lot harsher. I don’t want to burn bridges with my friends on the other side of the aisle, and I certainly don't think every cause they take up is completely without merit (for example, I do think conservatives have railed just a little too hard on the #MeToo thing, wrought with hypocrisy though the movement has been). But I’m writing this piece because, frankly, things are going to have to come to a head between our two sides. Your side has engaged an unrelenting campaign of attacks and persecution against those of us who have remained faithful to Christian orthodoxy for the past two or three decades at least, and we, orthodox Christian conservative millennials, are not going to defer responsive action against the agents of those who seek to destroy the church indefinitely, even if those agents include our friends. So when you take up teaching positions at Christian institutions only to reveal your sympathies with the militant LGBT movement, we are going to have to move to get you fired. When you start advocating the leftist social agenda within the church itself, we are going to excommunicate you. When your church is caught harboring illegal immigrants in brazen defiance of the Biblical command to submit to the civil authorities, we’re going to speak against your church and possibly work with the government to root them out. The Democrats and the liberal establishment have declared total war on conservatives and the Christian Church in particular. We are under no obligation to sit back passively and take it all the time.

So with that in mind, I ask one more time: whose side are you on?

#politics #religion #christianity #conservative #conservatism

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dipifica · 7 years ago

Text

Heart on the Line: Chapter 2

woo! finally an update! thanks to everyone who waited patiently and supported me! i suggest reading it on ff.net!

READ IT HERE OR BELOW

“Alright, kid,” the older man cleared his throat loudly. “You’ll be manning the gift shop while I take these bozos on tours. Just take people’s money and sell everything you can. Real simple stuff.” He coughed again as Wendy wondered about his age.

“Okay, Stan.” She replied. She was used to working retail, she had been hired and fired from around five different stores and a low key, run down gift shop sounded like the perfect part time job for her. “Just leave it to me.”

“You can call me Mr. Pines.” He muttered as he walked away. “Some of your co-workers will probably be around today, so don’t waste your time trying to sell to them.” He grabbed his 8-ball cane from the wall, took a breath, and open the door. “Ladies and Gentlemen, are you ready for the weirdest, creepiest, most jaw-dropping-eat experience of your pathetic lives?!” Wendy could hear cheers before the door shut completely. She respected her new boss a little bit more for his stunning performance.

She leaned back in her chair and kicked her feet up and scrolled through her phone. She read back her messages from Gideon from last night.

Gideon Gleeful: it seems pacifica’s attempt with dipper didn’t go so well….

Wendy Corduroy: what! why! did she say something to you?

Gideon Gleeful: the fact she didn’t say anything is telling enough, when i tried to ask she told me to ‘buzz off.’ she gets even more stereotypical mean girl when she's pissed

Wendy Corduroy: are we sure dipper isn’t gay? sorry but who WOULDN’T accept pacifica’s advances?

Gideon Gleeful: we’re sure. i wouldn’t, she’s an asshole. dipper probably thinks the same thing. we just have to make him see she’s not an asshole.

Wendy Corduroy: but she is an asshole

Gideon Gleeful: she’s gonna have to be a good actor. i’m adding her into this message.

Gideon Gleeful added Pacifica Northwest

Pacifica Northwest: ugh. i don’t have any updates losers.

Pacifica Northwest: you idiots know i can read the past messages right? fuck off, i’m not an asshole

Gideon Gleeful: it’s why we loooooove you paz!!

Pacifica Northwest: you make me want to vomit gleeful

Wendy Corduroy: wanna tell us how it went yesterday?

Pacifica Northwest: well, you figured it out already. it went not well. he snubbed me, the stupid dork. he’s too preoccupied with his dumb mystery stuff to even give a girl attention, i think we need to call it off.

Gideon Gleeful: that’s just what you want

Pacifica Northwest: well, yeah.

Wendy Corduroy: is there any reason he would reject you?

Pacifica Northwest: he’s always been like this, in his own world and shit

Gideon Gleeful: wait, what?

Wendy Corduroy: pacifica, do you and dipper have a past or something?

Pacifica Northwest: uh, no? i just have been in school with the pines for my entire high school career so i know things about them, and other people for that matter. its a small school, i don't need a “past” with anybody to know basic knowledge about someone.

Pacifica Northwest: you guys figure out what you want to do. i’m going to bed.

Pacifica Northwest has left the group message

Wendy Corduroy: that was weird

Gideon Gleeful: it was….interesting…

A loud slam hit the counter next to Wendy’s feet and she suddenly jerked up, face to face with someone she was certainly not expecting.

“Hi! Wendy, right?” Mabel Pines beamed from across the counter. “I’m sorry if I scared you with the boxes.” She did a similar little giggle to the one she had during their first encounter, making Wendy’s heart dance.

“Mabel, hi.” She tried to play it her usual cool self and it helped her calm down. “Not that it isn’t great to see you, but what are you doing here? Looking for some “Magic Frog Eyeballs?” She read the container full of obviously plastic eyeballs next to her.

Mabel laughed again. “No, silly, I’m dropping off the new shirts for the Shack. That’s what’s in the boxes.”

“Oh, do you work at the manufacture’s shop or something?”

“I work here, you didn’t know?” Mabel questioned. “Well, the Mystery Shack is family owned! My great-uncle Stan, Dipper, and I work here together. And our handyman, Soos, he’s basically one of the family too.”

Wendy’s face burned bright red. She was her co-worker. Not only that, but her family owned her place of work. Fate either loved her or hated her. “Wow,” Wendy mustered a cool chuckle. “I gotta say, I’m embarrassed that I had no idea.”

Mabel gave another bright smile. “Oh don’t be! It’s not like the Mystery Shack is a huge sight for new-comers like yourself. I don’t think I would have known about it if my family wasn’t involved.” Mabel’s face turned a bit colder. “Besides, it’s more a curse than a blessing to be associated with this place.”

“Because of your brother?” Wendy put a hand over her mouth just after the sentence was uttered. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like-“

Mabel smiled again, only slightly and Wendy worried if she had just ruined her chances. Along with the fact she didn’t want to insult such a nice girl. “No, it’s fine. People talk and it seems like Dipper is usually the name in everyone’s mouths. I’m used to it.” Mabel pulled herself up from leaning on the counter. “I should go, I’m meeting up with some friends.” She began to turn away and Wendy felt utterly terrible. “Oh, Wendy?” She faced her again. “Can I ask you a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Please don’t believe everything everyone says about my brother.” Mabel said with pleading eyes. “He’s…my best friend. He’s a really sweet, good guy, he’s just passionate about…weird stuff. It breaks my heart people think he’s not good. I really want things to turn around for him.”

Wendy saw the pain Mabel endured whenever someone degraded Dipper in that moment. The pain of seeing a loved one suffer and not being able to help. “I won’t. If you say he’s a good guy, I believe you.”

Mabel smiled gently at Wendy. “Thank you.” Mabel laughed loudly, seemingly turning around her mood. “Wow, I’m sorry for getting so serious like that, and we just met, you probably think I’m such a weirdo. I guess I feel like I can trust you already, Wendy.”

Wendy blushed slightly and, for what felt like the hundredth time in this short meeting, tried to keep her cool. “You love your brother, nothing weird about that. I sure as hell know I love mine.”

“You are too cool, Wendy.” Mabel parted with this and seemed to flow out the door.

Wendy sighed and watched the door lovingly and thought about how whipped she was already.

“Uh, hi?” A voice said from the other side of the counter.

Wendy recognized the boy as the Dipper Pines. The vital piece to her plan to get her girl. She felt like this already knew him, having talked about him so much in her few days here, but realized they had never been formally introduced.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Hi.” Wendy greeted. “You’re Dipper, right? I’m Wendy. I’m your new cashier.”

The two shook hands. “Yeah, Stan told me something about a new employee. I’m surprised someone even applied.”

“Well, to be honest, I’m not really one for hard work. This seemed easy.” Wendy admitted.

Dipper smiled and Wendy thought about how much he really did look like Mabel. “You chose the right job. Not many people roll through here. Trust me, I’m usually the one in your chair.”

“Oh, your sister doesn’t work much?”

“She’s more social than I am. Parties and friends and all that.” Dipper trailed off. “Besides, I guess you can say I’m more into the whole idea behind the Mystery Shack. But you knew that already, didn’t you?”

“I…uh…” Wendy stuttered, Dipper was more upfront than she thought he would be.

He chuckled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I’m aware what people say about me. I figured it would have gotten around to even a new kid like you.”

Wendy considered lying to him, saying she didn’t hear anything, but remembered Mabel could tell him at any point about their conversation from just moments ago. “I…have heard some things, yeah.” Dipper nodded. “But, uh, I don’t believe what everyone is saying. I know this is our first conversation but you have a sister like Mabel so I’m sure your just as good.”

Dipper remained silent for a moment and smiled again. “Well, I don’t know about just as good, but I appreciate you saying so.”

Just then, the door to the gift shop swung open revealing a familiar face to both Dipper and Wendy. “Helloooooooo, Mystery Shack!” Gideon greeted.

“Ugh.” Dipper mumbled.

“Gideon.” Wendy simply stated. “What are you doing here?”

“Came to see my favorite cashier at my favorite creepy, weird, and totally fake gift shop. Really, Pines, tell your uncle to step the game up.”

“At least we have a shop, you failed psychic.” Dipper rolled his eyes.

“We don’t talk about that Pines. Besides, I was like nine, let it go.” He glared. “So how goes….things, Wendy?” Gideon eyed Dipper.

“Wendy, you don’t have to humor this idiot.” Dipper said. “Is she your new object of affection after failed Mabel attempts?”

“Wendy’s gay and we’re friends, try again.” Gideon snapped.

“You two are friends?” Dipper turned to face Wendy.

“He showed me around school my first day. He’s a little weird, but I’m having fun with it.” Wendy shrugged.

“A little weird?” Gideon repeated.

“You are really something.” Dipper told Wendy. “Well, I guess it’s good you aren’t so affected by high school gossip. Even when you should be.” Dipper’s eyes darted to Gideon.

“Look who’s talking, Mr. I’ve-been-suspended-three-times-for-putting-the-entire-student-body-in-danger!” Gideon growled.

“That’s way too long of a last name!” Dipper face palmed. “I’m going, I can’t stand to be around you for more than a couple of minutes.”

“Aw, best friends forever, Dippy!” Gideon waved sarcastically.

“Bye Wendy.” Dipper ignored Gideon and shut the door on his way out.

“I thought he would ever leave.” Gideon sighed.

“It’s his house.” Wendy remarked. “By the way, I had no idea the Pines owned this place! Ugh, I was so embarrassed when I ran into Mabel today.”

“How’d it go?”

Wendy thought back to the time. “Not as bad as you would think. I think she at least likes me as a person.”

“Well, it’s not you and Mabel we have to worry about anyway, it’s-“

“Me and Dipper.” A voice called from the door.

“You’re late, Northwest.” Gideon checked his watch.

“I’m a busy girl, and I had to make sure no one saw me come in here. I almost got caught by Dipper on his way out.” She slumped down in a stool next to Wendy. “Why did you call me here?”

“I’m wondering the same thing.” Wendy stated, she did enjoy the distraction from the otherwise boredom of work.

“Because it seems fairly obvious we need to have a more of a concrete plan set here. Pacifica,” Gideon turned to her. “You don’t have to tell us shit but you do need to do seduce Dipper, in any way possible. I think you need to apologize to him, since it seems like you did something to him.”

“You guys didn’t say anything about apolo-apologi- I can’t even say it!” Pacifica crossed her arms. She didn’t feel the need to inform them of her previous half-assed apology to him.

“What did you expect? He was still going to fall for you after you did something bad to him?”

“Uh, yeah? It’s happened plenty of times before.” She flipped her hair.

“This is Dipper. You are gonna need to show him you can be sweet. Even though you aren’t.”

“Hey!” Pacifica yelled.

“He’s not going to fall for the real you. So he will have to fall for the fake you.” Gideon stated simply. “Fake Pacifica is the opposite of real Pacifica.”

“So, ugly and boring?”

“I was thinking more nerdy and nice. Just…be interested in his weird habits, leave Mabel alone, and laugh at his dumb jokes. And apologize.” Gideon demanded. Wendy was surprised at how much her new friend took charge. “And you,” Wendy suddenly found herself the target. “Be prepared to ask Mabel out at any moment. Dipper’s unpredictable and we can’t have some other girl or guy showing you up when the news hits Mabel is able to date.”

“Is she that sought after?” Wendy asked.

“You fell for her with one glance and you aren’t exactly special.” Pacifica piped up. “As weird as Mabel can be, she's cute and nice to everyone, so people are naturally drawn to her. Don’t ask me why, I don’t fucking get it.”

“Unlike you who gets their suitors by being cold and demeaning.” Gideon replied.

“It’s not my fault guys love the chase.” Pacifica smirked. “Are we done here?”

“Do you have a plan for getting Dipper?” Gideon questioned. “It’s hard to trust you. No offense.”

Pacifica rolled her eyes and groaned. “Gleeful, I’m pretty and not dumb okay? I know how to make a dweeb fall in love with me. Of course I have a plan.” Pacifica picked up her purse and stood up. “I have some shopping to get to now. Meeting adjured.” She abruptly turned and walked towards the door.

“You can’t call meeting adjured when I called the meeting-hey!” Gideon shouted. “Are you at least going to tell us your plan!”

“Northwest secret, sorry!” Pacifica chuckled, shutting the door.

Pacifica Northwest stood in front of the Mystery Shack’s gift shop door with butterflies in her stomach. She couldn’t place exactly why, but decided that the fear of losing her long standing queen bee reputation was probably causing the feeling.

She knew Dipper was beyond the door (thanks to Dipper’s schedule leak via Wendy), sitting at the cash register, probably reading some dorky book. She looked down at her outfit for the third time today; pleated flannel mini skirt with tights and tan pumps and a simple white sweater. Something simple, something Dipper would like. And she figured if all else fails, she could bend and snap for the guy and at least put the idea in his head.

She decided it was time to get this over with and pushed open the door, the bell alarming Dipper and causing him to look straight at her. “Pacifica.” was all he said.

“Dipper.” She said back. She had to admit, pretending for Dipper seemed somewhat pointless, the guy was sharp. She had the feeling he would see right through her.

“What are you doing here?” She figured the question would be asked.

“Oh, I was in the neighborhood and figure, ‘Hey, I’m in need of some…Eye of Newt, why don’t I stop by the Mystery Shack?’” Pacifica joked and leaned against the counter.

“Ha. Ha.” Dipper stated.

“But really, I do need something. And I think you are just the person to help me.”

“That is?”

“Temporary memory loss powder. I know you have it.” Pacifica said matter-of-factly. She remembered, ironically, Dipper also had a ton of the stuff on him during his hunts. She also knew he was weary with the stuff.

“I don’t think I can give this to you. I have morals and you are…you know…evil.” Dipper replied.

“You are just getting harsher and harsher, huh?” Pacifica sighed. “If it helps, I’m planning on using it on my dad when he catches me sneaking out. And I know how much you don’t like my dad.”

“Compelling. I’ll still pass. Besides, the Mystery Shack doesn’t sell it.”

“The Dipper Shack does.” Pacifica quipped. “I have an idea.” Pacifica smirked, half because of what she was going to suggest and half because her plan was going smoothly so far. And if she knew Dipper, the rest would be cake. “We’ll play for it.”

“Play?” Dipper questioned, his eyebrow rose and Pacifica took that as a sign of interest.

“Space Gladiators 5.” Pacifica smirked. “You even have the upper hand, since you’re the one that owns it.”

“What do I get if I win?” Dipper muttered. “The satisfaction I get beating you won’t be enough.”

“I can make you feel…other…types of satisfied.” Pacifica winked.

“No thanks.” Dipper groaned. She remembered how much he would squirm at her flirting before.

“No fun.” Pacifica sighed. “How about…I’ll completely leave you alone. And Mabel. For….the entire school year.” Pacifica’s more rational and anxiety-prone side nudged at her, but the Northwest in her overpowered her fears. Northwests bet big.

“Hm.” Dipper hummed, itching his head in thought. “Okay, fine. You also can’t shop here for the year.”

“Oooooh noooo, what ever will I do.” Pacifica rolled her eyes. “Then let’s play. You should take your break now.”

It didn’t take long for Dipper to find the old game and set the system up on the TV in the living room. Pacifica noted the small changed since she was last here, back when her and Dipper were on good terms. The rug seemed to deepen a shade and one of the knobs on the TV was missing.

“What happened there?” She asked, pointing to it. “I’m sure Stan wasn’t happy.”

She swore she saw a smile come from him, but quickly faded away. “Mabel knocked it off while doing an impromptu gymnastics routine for Candy and Grenda. Let’s play.”

Pacifica knew she was doing this job for money and the blackmail, but his coldness still stung. They were friends. She didn’t think she was faultless, but people grow apart, how is it her fault she wanted to branch out in a new school? “Okay…” Was all she said as he handed her the old controller she used to play with. Hearing the start-up music, holding the almost broken controller, and sitting on the ugly shag carpet of the Mystery Shack felt like a living in a flashback, sitting next to Dipper, laughing at anything for hours; she missed it. She couldn’t help but feel relaxed even with her stakes.

“You got…dumber. Although, that doesn’t surprise me seeing as who you spend all your time with now.” Dipper perked up, a smirk on his face. Pacifica knew this as their regular trash talking while playing, at least, she decided to take it that way. Dipper probably was just being plain mean to her, but she played along anyway.

“And you got even…shut-in-e-er.” Okay, not her best.

Dipper left out a booming laugh. “Wow, good one.” He chuckled as he started the game.

“Shut up.” She barked, yet with a smile on her face. For a moment, it felt like nothing changed between them. Just two friends having a good time together. Like old times. They shared a light smile, one of reminiscence and longing.

The game left out a mechanical screech announcing the first round, and they snapped out of their trance. Dipper scowled at her before turning to look at the game again and the moment was gone as soon as it came.

The game echoed out a “fight!” and their characters were free to begin fighting. The two sprang into action, Pacifica thanked her muscle memory for remembering how to play and how to play good. However, Dipper was always a tough match. In Pacifica’s first few playthroughs, she thought it was impossible to beat Dipper. He always seemed one step ahead and just when she thought she was going to win, he would take her down with a power move. Pacifica learned from this back in the day and still remembered it today. His classic tricks wouldn’t work on her. She would not let them.

“I didn’t get more shut-in-e-er.” Dipper suddenly quipped. “People just got more cliquey.”

“What are the odds of everyone changing over you changing? You’re just going to blame the whole school for how you are?”

Dipper remained silent for a moment. “Whatever. You got more cliquey.”

“Always back to that, huh? I said I was sorry, there’s nothing else I can do.” Pacifica felt tense as her voice rose.

“It’s what you didn’t do then that matters.”

“God, you need a lesson in forgiveness. Or at least a lesson in not being so goddamn hung up on shit that happened years ago!” Pacifica looked away for a brief moment to face him and instantly heard her character fall to the ground in defeat.

Dipper smirked and hummed. “1-0.”

“You fucking cheater.” Pacifica whispered.

“Hey, we used to argue while playing before. Now it’s cheating? You are so easily manipulated by mind games, it really is like you don’t even know me.”

Pacifica couldn’t help but feel some truth in their conversation despite what Dipper said. She decided it was best not to bring up and possibly blow the situation up worse. “You got more sinister since we last talked. MY Dipper wouldn’t have pulled a stunt like that.”

“You left him behind, so did I. That’s something we have in common.”

Pacifica was the one to hit the next button this time, mostly because she didn’t have a rebuttal for his argument. “Round 2” appeared in bold text as the announcer yelled out the word “fight!” once again.

“I have let that go, by the way. I just don’t accept your apology or like you.” Dipper started once again.

“No. No, we are not talking about this again.” Pacifica exhaled.

“Why? Does it make you lose focus? I’m perfectly fine.” She could see Dipper’s smug look without even turning her head.

“No, it’s pointless to talk with you about something you are in denial about. You are very obviously not over anything about what happened between us, it’s sad that you are trying to convince yourself you are. If you were over anything, you would be fucking smart and accept the business of me and make money but instead you make me play this stupid game to get some fucking magic potion!” With the end of her sentence, Pacifica dodged Dipper’s attack and countered right on time for a combo, knocking his player out.

Pacifica took her turn to smile smugly, not caring if he made him hate her more. She did love a good gloat, and she knew Dipper did too. “I mean, that’s just the truth.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” That was all Dipper said before starting the third and final round. The regular announcer echoed through the silent room again.

Pacifica didn’t start strong as she was regretting the outburst she had. Yes, it was the truth and she had been holding that in for a long time, but she could have just ruined her chances with him. Would winning this make him like her more or less?

“You’re right.” He piped up. “I’m not over it. In fact, seeing you isn’t exactly pleasant for me.”

“I’ve…noticed.” She got a few hits on his player. They were an equal match.

“I’m hurt.” He said quietly, however, she heard him loud and clear. “I still am.”

“I…know.” She replied in the same tone. “I’m sorry, Dipper. I am. Things have changed for me, but I’m still…trying to figure everything out. I feel at a crossroads.”

“You always had things figured out.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “Don’t try to catch me off guard so you can win.”

Pacifica looked to him right away. She set her controller down and put her hands up. “I’m being honest. Take me out if you want…I won’t stop you. But, just a warning, after that year of not talking to you, I’m going to come back to do this again.” She smiled lightly.

Dipper looked at her, then to the game. He moved quickly to the system and shut the game down without finishing. “A draw.” He got up and went upstairs to the attic and returned with a small vile. “Your memory loss powder, that’ll be $40.”

“Jesus Christ that’s-“ Pacifica was about to finish that sentence with ‘expensive’ but opted to just giving him the money. Things had changed for her, but she wasn’t ready to tell him how things had changed.

“Since this is a draw, you still can’t come here for a year. But…I guess you can continue to talk to me, although no promises I’ll reply.”

“God, you sound like me.” Pacifica laughed. “So…what now? Ice cream?”

“No, now you get the hell out of my house, I’ve been on this 15 minute break for 30 minutes and you are violating our agreement as we speak.”

Pacifica stood up abruptly. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t call the cops. I’m goin’.” She turned to face him once more. “Hey, good game.”

#dippica #dipcifica #dipifica #writing #10 things AU #gravity falls

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