#Pushing Climate Change fear

[gemstarb]

We’re all sick of the ‘climate crazies’

[vivmaek]

Total Solar Eclipse in Aries: Predictions

✰ my masterlist This eclipse season is highlighting themes of forgiveness, both towards others and towards ourselves. It's time to turn a new leaf, and to take responsibility for mistakes made within the past. Doing this will allow a particular area within your life to transform. In October 2023 it may have felt like you lost something. Whether that was a friend group, a career opportunity, or a romantic relationship depends on your chart. However, because this solar eclipse is conjuncting the North Node, it will feel as though you have gained something. Issues from October 2023 will find a resolution.

General predictions:

ꕥ Sudden/unexpected military action.

ꕥ The development and discovery of new weapons. (Specifically with bombs and explosives.)

ꕥ Veterans speaking out against the country they once served.

ꕥ World leaders unexpectedly stepping down from their positions.

- Many world leaders are going to be dealing with extremely poor health which will “eclipse’ their power.

ꕥ It's going be a hot summer, and the effects of climate change will become all the more obvious.

ꕥ Bad wildfire season.

ꕥ An increase in self-immolation as a form of protest.

ꕥ An increase in reckless driving, speeding, and road rage.

ꕥ An increase in violence against women, and people who are non-binary or transgender .

ꕥ Issues regarding gender will become even more polarizing.

- Women across the world will continue to assert their independence and will fight back against outdated standards.

- Women will become more willing to embrace the unknown. Many women will fully commit to the idea of never getting married or having children during this time frame, and they will do so with enthusiasm.

- Some women will choose not to get married or have children as a form of protest

ꕥ An increase in narcissistic behavior, as well as an increase in being able to recognize narcissistic behavior.

ꕥ Celebrities responding to public criticism with arrogance will witness a downfall.

ꕥ The Summer Olympics will be especially entertaining this year. This event will be explosive and dramatic. Some athletes will gain a significant amount of fame during this event.

ꕥ LOTS of new music. Artists are going to be pushing the boundaries of genres. Audiences are craving something completely new.

ꕥ People are DONE living in fear. This will result in widespread, collective action that will effectively make big changes. More protests, more boycotts, more strikes, more uprisings.

Predictions for your Rising Sign:

Aries ♈︎

𖦹 Explosive relationship issues

𖦹 Facing “the final straw”

𖦹 Reuniting with yourself

𖦹 Making a significant change to your physical appearance

𖦹 Detaching yourself from others

𖦹 Making bold statements that shock people

𖦹 A boost in confidence

𖦹 Reconnecting with your desires

𖦹 Realizing that you’ve outgrown people

𖦹 Becoming easily frustrated

𖦹 Not recognizing the person you were two years ago

𖦹 Taking decisive action

𖦹 Being forced to defend your beliefs

𖦹 Heightened sense of physical energy

𖦹 Gaining a sense of control over your impulsivity

Taurus ♉︎

𖦹 Confronting fears of the unknown

𖦹 Showcasing a strong sense of perseverance

𖦹 Psychic dreams/ uptick in strange dreams

𖦹 Reflecting on the past

𖦹 Spending time alone

𖦹 Receiving some sort of news that shakes you up

𖦹 Building trust in your intuition

𖦹 Finding yourself zoning out all of time

𖦹 Turning towards food, drugs, and alcohol to find comfort

𖦹 Intense emotions coming forward

𖦹 Facing an uptick in stress and anxiety

𖦹 Rumors and lies being spread about you

𖦹 Secrets coming to the surface

𖦹 Feeling exhausted/needing more time for rest

𖦹 Developing a stronger connection to nature

Gemini ♊︎

𖦹 Heightened sense of compassion

𖦹 Giving out unsolicited advice

𖦹 Networking!

𖦹 Joining new social groups

𖦹 Finding a sense of belonging

𖦹 Engaging in volunteer work

𖦹 Developing new goals and dreams

𖦹 Interacting with lots of strangers

𖦹 Feeling in touch with the future

𖦹 Participating in interesting conversations on a daily basis

𖦹 Initiating and organizing group activities

𖦹 Developing new friendships at a fast pace

𖦹 Heightened sense of popularity

𖦹 Fearing commitment

𖦹 Heightened sense of conversational skills

Cancer ♋︎

𖦹 Stepping into a leadership position

𖦹 Learning how to balance your private life with work

𖦹 Becoming a stay-at-home parent

𖦹 Hard work paying off

𖦹 Facing competition within your career

𖦹 New responsibilities

𖦹 Challenges with authority figures

𖦹 Being forced to stand up for yourself

𖦹 Setting boundaries within your career

𖦹 Your reputation becoming a source of stress

𖦹 Becoming someone's caregiver

𖦹 Learning how to avoid burnout

𖦹 Becoming a source of motivation within your workplace

𖦹 Feeling extra sensitive towards criticism

𖦹 Working with a family member, or someone who feels like family

Leo ♌︎

𖦹 Being forced to look at the big picture

𖦹 Stepping out of the sidelines

𖦹 Deciding to expand your mind

𖦹 Traveling/ big journeys

𖦹 Coming across as overbearing within serious situations

𖦹 A change in long term plans/goals

𖦹 Becoming a teacher or mentor

𖦹 Beliefs being challenged

𖦹 Dominating discussions with other people

𖦹 Craving adventure

𖦹 Gaining a new perspective on life

𖦹 New opportunities in education

𖦹 Embracing a newfound sense of excitement

𖦹 Seeking out recognition

𖦹 Gaining wisdom through creative ventures

Virgo ♍︎

𖦹 Joint resources being brought into focus

𖦹 Seeking reciprocity within relationships

𖦹 Having a realistic approach to intimate relationships

𖦹 Realizing you give too much/too little

𖦹 The judgements you’ve made about other people being challenged

𖦹 Making investments

𖦹 Burning bridges

𖦹 Creating a new budget

𖦹 Resentments within relationships being brought to the surface

𖦹 Paying off debt

𖦹 Confronting your desire for profection

𖦹 Close relationships becoming a source of stress

𖦹 Healing intimacy and trust issues

𖦹 Seeking out deeply emotional connections

𖦹 Finally recognizing hidden patterns

Libra ♎︎

𖦹 Showing up more authentically

𖦹 Confronting communication issues

𖦹 Fixing a misunderstanding from the past

𖦹 Being honest about wants and needs

𖦹 Asking for help and receiving it

𖦹 Developing skills in diplomacy

𖦹 Placing your aspirations before a relationship

𖦹 Letting go of responsibilities that don’t serve you

𖦹 Ego and pride creating conflict within relationships

𖦹 Starting a collaborative project

𖦹 Holding yourself to the promises you’ve made

𖦹 Receiving some sort of justice

𖦹 Healing your fear of being alone

𖦹 Seeking out compromise

𖦹 Recognizing how indecision has held you back

Scorpio ♏︎

𖦹 Putting your dreams into action

𖦹 Experiencing tension within the body

𖦹 Confronting control issues

𖦹 Your sense of motivation being reawakened

𖦹 Implementing new routines

𖦹 Prioritizing health

𖦹 Finishing projects from the past

𖦹 Feeling more energized

𖦹 Lack of support from others

𖦹 Becoming more organized

𖦹 Stress becoming a cause for health issues

𖦹 Challenging your own self-criticism

𖦹 Developing a greater sense of concentration

𖦹 Exploring alternative treatment approaches

𖦹 Becoming a workaholic

Sagittarius ♐︎

𖦹 Starting a new hobby or project

𖦹 Newfound relationship needs/standards

𖦹 Taking relationships risks

𖦹 Seeking out pleasure

𖦹 Connecting with your inner child

𖦹 A spike in creativity

𖦹 Having fun with your sense of self expression

𖦹 Being able to forgo responsibility

𖦹 Joining the dating scene

𖦹 Starting a family

𖦹 Caught up within daydreams

𖦹 Developing a sense of contentment

𖦹 Pregnant and ready to give birth (this could be a literal child or a new idea)

𖦹 Taking initiative

𖦹 Everyday life becomes exciting

Capricorn ♑︎

𖦹 Possible career change

𖦹 Starting a garden/buying plants

𖦹 Gaining an understanding in generational trauma

𖦹 Moving at a slow pace

𖦹 New living situations

𖦹 Change in family dynamics

𖦹 Heightened sense of intuition

𖦹 Finding stability

𖦹 Tending to unhealed wounds

𖦹 Arguments with your parents

𖦹 Working remotely

𖦹 Reconnecting with your ancestors

𖦹 Seeking more time spent alone

𖦹 Home renovations

𖦹 A death or birth occurring within your family

Aquarius ♒︎

𖦹 Being more active on social media

𖦹 Speaking before thinking

𖦹 An uptick in the amount of texts/emails you receive

𖦹 Overactive mind/imagination

𖦹 Attending lots of social engagements

𖦹 Oversharing

𖦹 Challenging your negative thought patterns

𖦹 Creating some sort of content

𖦹 Busy schedule

𖦹 Buying a new vehicle/changing your commute to work

𖦹 Moving into an environment that's more stimulating

𖦹 Learning new skills

𖦹 Changing the way in which you communicate

𖦹 Chasing after the things that make you curious

𖦹 Spreading gossip

Pisces ♓︎

𖦹 Financial management

𖦹 Your foundations being tested

𖦹 A person in need taking advantage of you

𖦹 Developing security

𖦹 Redefining your values

𖦹 Losing or misplacing a valuable object

𖦹 Selling your impulsive purchases

𖦹 Overcoming insecurities

𖦹 Feeling more stubborn

𖦹 Strengthening your self-worth

𖦹 Building your savings

𖦹 Earning money from your artistry

𖦹 Cutting back on expenses

𖦹 Donating your money to charity

𖦹 Turning to spiritual practices to ground yourself

[she-is-ovarit]

By EDITH M. LEDERER Updated 9:11 PM PST, March 8, 2024 UNITED NATIONS (AP) — Legal equality for women could take centuries as the fight for gender equality is becoming an uphill struggle against widespread discrimination and gross human human rights abuses, the United Nations chief said on International Women’s Day. Secretary-General Antonio Guterres told a packed U.N. commemoration Friday that “a global backlash against women’s rights is threatening, and in some cases reversing, progress in developing and developed countries alike.” The most egregious example is in Afghanistan, he said, where the ruling Taliban have barred girls from education beyond sixth grade, from employment outside the home, and from most public spaces, including parks and hair salons. At the current rate of change, legal equality for women could take 300 years to achieve and so could ending child marriage, he said. Guterres pointed to “a persistent epidemic of gender-based violence,” a gender pay gap of at least 20%, and the underrepresentation of women in politics. He cited September’s annual gathering of world leaders at the U.N. General Assembly, where just 12% of the speakers were women. “And the global crises we face are hitting women and girls hardest — from poverty and hunger to climate disasters, war and terror,” the secretary-general said. In the past year, Guterres said, there have been testimonies of rape and trafficking in Sudan, and in Gaza women women and children account for a majority of the more than 30,000 Palestinians reported killed in the Israeli-Hamas conflict, according to the Gaza Ministry of Health. He cited a report Monday by the U.N. envoy focusing on sexual violence in conflict that concluded there are “reasonable grounds” to believe Hamas committed rape, “sexualized torture” and other cruel and inhumane treatment of women during its surprise attack in southern Israel on Oct. 7. He also pointed to reports of sexual violence against Palestinians detained by Israel. International Women’s Day grew out of labor movements in North America and across Europe at the turn of the 20th century and was officially recognized by the United Nations in 1977. This year’s theme is investing in women and girls to accelerate progress toward equality. Roza Otunbayeva, the head of the U.N. political mission in Afghanistan, told the Security Council on Wednesday that what is happening in that country “is precisely the opposite” of investing in women and girls. There is “a deliberate disinvestment that is both harsh and unsustainable,” she said, saying the Taliban’s crackdown on women and girls has caused “immense harm to mental and physical health, and livelihoods.” Recent detentions of women and girls for alleged violations of the Islamic dress code “were a further violation of human rights, and carry enormous stigma for women and girls,” she said. It has had “a chilling effect among the wider female population, many of whom are now afraid to move in public,” she said. Otunbayeva again called on the Taliban to reverse the restrictions, warning that the longer they remain, “the more damage will be done.” Sima Bahous, the head of UN Women, the agency promoting gender equality and women’s rights, told the commemoration that International Women’s Day “sees a world hobbled by confrontation, fragmentation, fear and most of all inequality.” “Poverty has a female face,” she said. “One in every 10 women in the world lives in extreme poverty.” Men not only dominate the halls of power but they “own $105 trillion more wealth than women,” she said. Bahous said well-resourced and powerful opponents of gender equality are pushing back against progress. The opposition is being fueled by anti-gender movements, foes of democracy, restricted civic space and “a breakdown of trust between people and state, and regressive policies and legislation,” she said. [Click on the link to continue reading]

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Hired

One of many ways Yves could establish first contact with you.

tw: i guess kind of none because if you take what happened here at face value, it kinda even seem wholesome and normal, except maybe the mild infantilization

u gotta look at the Yves lore before understanding the implications of some stuff

Yves is a wonderful employer, he is infinitely better than any of your other bosses. The economic and societal climate is changing; despite having a bachelor's degree, all you could get are entry-level jobs. At this point, the only way a person could reliably advance in their career is through contacts.

There was no wonder why you would jump at the chance when your cousin offered to put you in contact with their affluent associate. Of which, is looking to hire a personal assistant. It's not the most ideal job in the world, but you were hoping through Yves, you could network enough and open more doors.

You were nervous; as your cousin described him as quiet but not meek, polite but aloof, calm yet holding an air of absolute authority around him. You assume that he's someone who couldn't tolerate mistakes, no matter how small or inconsequential. However, the fact that Yves treats those who work under him well was enough to make you push your fears away and agree to a meeting with him.

He is a busy man, so you couldn't meet him until a week later. The wait is killing you; at least you had time to prepare, rehearse your responses, and gather whatever medication necessary to prevent you from vomiting upon seeing him. Your cousin had to assure you that Yves isn't as menacing or uncompromising as you built him up to be. Yet, you wouldn't believe them. So you suffer in your own anxiety.

And when you do finally meet in a fine dining restaurant as per his arrangement, it took you every ounce of your strength not to pass out.

Yves is beautiful. He carried himself with such grace and elegance, even his movements look unreal. As if it's much more fluid and effortless than normal people. His jet black hair that cascades down to the middle of his back, to his piercing emerald gaze, everything about him intimidated you half to death. It's not a human that you're looking at, you're looking at something closer to an ethereal deity, if anything.

He offered a small, polite smile before addressing you by your first name.

The combination of his overwhelming aura and the opulence of the meeting venue, you're beginning to doubt you should even be here.

He presented his perfectly manicured hand to you, obviously for you to shake and do a proper introduction. But you merely stared at it, blanking out in panic. You felt dirty, a filthy commoner should never touch such a delicate, expensive-

"Are you alright?" He asked. Yves has a pleasant sounding baritone voice; it exudes warmth that is unfamiliar, but addicting. You craned your neck upwards to see no malice, only concern.

You cleared your throat and muttered an apology before shaking his hand. You were hyper focused on how clammy your hands must feel to him.

"(name)." You felt your heart drop into your stomach when he unpredictability enveloped your trembling hand with both of his. For the first time, you realized that his hands are unnaturally cold. So cold, that it almost felt like you're touching a block of ice. Your unending loop of self negativity was broken by the unexpected temperature shock.

He leaned down a bit closer. "You are doing well."

Yves stated with such assurance, you released a breath of relief and felt the fear melt away. His thumbs massaged your hand for a few more seconds, just enough to calm you down further, but not long enough to make you uncomfortable.

When his grip loosened, you successfully took it as a cue to let go. He took a seat and gestured for you to do the same.

You braced yourself for the first interview question as the food isn't here yet. There was no menu, Yves already preordered the food. That was why he had contacted you a few days prior to ask about your dietary requirements and/or restrictions.

You expected every generic and obscure that a Human Resources department could ever come up with, repeating the lines in your head so you wouldn't mess up. You intently watch him part his soft lips to speak.

"How are you, (name)?"

You froze. You didn't take into account that he would test you on small talk. You didn't practice that.

So you stuttered and stumbled over your words, eventually giving him a generic "Good." Then, you immediately clammed up, waiting for his next response.

He smiled. It was kind and genuine. "That's wonderful to know. I am also doing well myself."

You cringed internally, realizing that you should have returned the question.

But before you could beat yourself up over it, he continued exchanging pleasantries with you. Talking about mundane topics about the weather, the restaurant, travelling, hobbies- it was boring, but you felt safer and safer as it went on.

You became comfortable because Yves eventually seemed human enough to recognize, as someone who wouldn't bite your head off at the first wrong move. An image of a caring gentleman who just happens to be reserved replaced the ruthless dictator-like persona you had for Yves in your head.

Your cousin was right, you were really stressing over nothing. It became so easy to talk to him that the tension in your shoulders was gone, your words now flow without stumbles and you can feel your anxiety medication course through your veins and finally doing it's job.

The way he puppets the conversation is so masterful, that you didn't even realize he had transitioned the topics to the actual interview. You still spoke to him so casually, as if he's your non-judgemental prude of a friend.

If it wasn't for Yves's conversational skills, you would have been malfunctioning over how you should hold your fork and knife. But you were eating like you always would; fast, slow, neat or slightly messy, it didn't matter. You stopped seeing Yves as a potential employer and more of a buddy.

The "interview" went on until the plates were cleared, including desserts. Waiters and waitresses took them away, you took that as your cue to stiffen up because the real interview is about to start.

You went through the same process of silently repeating your memorized answers to yourself, but this time with no pressure.

Only to be dumbfounded when Yves asked, "How soon can you start working with me?" implying that you somehow passed the interview that never happened.

There were a few moments of silence from you, trying to process it all. You end up asking him about the other questions you were expecting him to ask.

"I did ask about those earlier. I find that your responses reflect a personality best suited for this position." He folded his hands on his lap.

Then you realized, he actually did. All this time, you thought those were inconsequential small talk.

You were suddenly caught up in a decision paralysis, unable to come up with a clear choice immediately. Yves must have noticed this, as he took out a file from his designer handbag and a fountain pen.

"Are you available to start tomorrow?" He opened the file and put the contract in front of you.

And that was how you secured a high paying job with almost unbelievable fringe benefits: free accommodation (as it was much easier to work with him if you stayed in the same house), three free meals a day cooked by your boss, including whatever Yves has in his kitchen, a company car for private use (his personal car), and hell, he even covers your self-education expenses.

It was strange at first that Yves would cook. You expected him to have private chefs and servants to handle maintenance of his humble abode. But you quickly come to realize, the reason why he was so busy is precisely due to that. He would do all the chores himself, no matter how undignified you thought it was.

He makes his own tea and fixes a cup of your favourite beverage too. The free meals he whips up on the daily are healthy and delicious, there are no ultra processed foods in his house. He manages his own finances, so you don't know how much he earns or has in the bank.

Yves surprisingly loved doing such menial tasks- tasks that you were supposed to handle, becoming fussy when you tried doing some of them for him. He would send you away and tell you to stick to what you're instructed to do. Which was to arrange Yves's meetings with his business associates based on his packed schedules. And to reply to his emails and answer calls, the latter is rare but you're glad as it's so daunting to talk to other rich folks.

As days turn into months, you notice how Yves is such a damn recluse. He wouldn't leave the house unless he has to and he doesn't seem to have friends he would regularly hang out with. You don't even think he has friends he enjoys being around. No family either.

Your job eventually was to just be there for him. You were never bored despite having very little to do, because Yves would talk to you and bring you wherever you always wanted to go, all expenses paid out of his own pocket.

The downside to all of these was that he nags. He nags your ear off if you forgot to put on sunscreen for the day, he nags if you're bringing in candies into his pantry, he nags if you still hung out with that friend who spread nasty rumors about you and he nags if you're doing something he perceives as harmful towards yourself.

But you knew he genuinely cared about you and he also verbally confirmed it himself, as he considered you as someone awfully special to him. Unfortunately, his boldness developed some awkward feelings in you. Never in your life did you have some who gave a crap about you as much as Yves.

You had come to see him as a crush. It's hard to avoid him when you're living under the same roof, eating the same meals and hanging out with him as part of your job description.

Predictably, he quickly sniffed out that something was amiss, and he directly questioned you about it one random afternoon. It didn't take long for you to buckle under the stress he was putting on you with his unique, maternal-esque interrogation techniques. You spilled the beans, you told him everything no matter how painfully embarrassing it was.

You ended your speech with a hot face and a belief that he will fire you right after this.

Yves merely hummed in response. You hung your head low, bracing for impact.

However, the only impact you felt was a feathery, sweet peck on the cheek. Your head shot back up and stared at him with wide eyes, Yves was smiling with glee and serenity.

"Dinner will be ready at five, dear." He traced his fingers along your jawline and walked away to prepare a meal for two.

Of course, after you recovered from your stupor, you ran after him and began asking what exactly happened.

"You confessed your feelings for me, and I accepted it." He explained as he cupped both sides of your cheeks, rubbing them with his thumbs. "You are now my beloved partner. And if all goes well, eventually, my lawfully wedded spouse."

You couldn't coherently get your thoughts out, a million of them are firing through your mind and you're still struggling to process that your boss might feel the same way. And what does this mean for your job? It's definitely going to change now that you're romantically involved with him.

He then pulled you into a hug, holding you close and raking his fingers through your hair.

"One step at a time, my love. Do not overwhelm yourself." He kissed you on the crown of your head. You allowed yourself to melt in his arms, inhaling his comforting scent as he pets you.

And as it turns out, there isn't too much of a difference after Yves becomes your boyfriend. He still cooks and cleans, you still schedule his meetings for him. It's just that he would show his gratitude with forehead kisses now. And there is the addition of pet names.

You unlocked the option to sleep in the same bed as him, either in his room or yours. You almost immediately become secure enough to randomly cuddle up to him throughout the day. Likewise, he was comfortable enough to leave lipstick marks on your face whenever he feels like it.

He could be reading on the sofa, and you could lay your head on his lap with no problem at all. Yves would proceed to mindlessly massage your scalp.

Yves nags a lot less now, because he would simply apply sunscreen on you if you forgot, fix your clothes if it's messy, and basically baby you to an unbearable extent.

Except, it is bearable. Because if it wasn't, you wouldn't have let it slide for so long. And you wouldn't have allowed him to tie your shoelaces for you or wipe your snot away whenever you have the sniffles.

So, you still think Yves is a pretty swell boss and an amazing boyfriend. You felt like you hit the jackpot on this one and you couldn't have been luckier.

[marxistlesbianist]

How do I stop getting more and more terrified of the upcoming Trump administration. I know on a material level Harris would not be much better but every new cabinet pick and headline makes the liberal in me scream and cry, I'm a trans woman just starting her transition and I'm scared I will never become the person I want to be. I'm scared it's too late for me. I need a Marxist perspective, what do I do?

Unfortunately marxism cannot provide you with any way to avoid fear as such, but this does not mean it is useless here. Marxism as an analytical method helps us to see the social/economic mechanisms affecting our lives as they really are, rather than as the quasi-divine forces which liberalism supposes them to be. I and many others have found that looking at the world in this more grounded manner has the effect of lessening our anxiety, but how you react to this vision of material reality is still up to you.

That being said, here is a rough outline of a marxist outlook on the US political economy to–day, which might help you to ground through the anxiety of the election results:

The US empire is an empire in decline. This is not the fault of any single politician, but of the inherently unstable ground on which capitalist economies are built. Capitalism necessitates constant market growth, and with nearly the whole world already captured by the US economic order, this is an increasingly impossible demand to meet. As climate change worsens the third world countries exploited by the US are pushed to either drown under ceaseless natural disasters, or revolt against the economic system distroying their ecology—in both cases the US hegemony is weakened and our great empire dies by a thousand cuts. The only way to avoid economic crisis is to move away from the capitalist mode of production all together, but bourgeois politicians will only ever offer us incomplete solutions to the problems they have created.

Fascism is the liberal response to economic crisis. Throughout the history of the 20th century, we have seen that even the most socially progressive liberal “democracies” have morphed into fascist monstrocities when the capitalist economy is threatened. Voting in ostensibly progressive candidates without seriously challenging the political economy won't save us--as the people of Germany learned when the liberal chancellor Hindenburg appointed Hitler as the head of state after beating him in the election. This happens because fascism is at its heart the imperialist system turned inwards; when the German bourgeoisie were no longer able to sustain their economy by exploiting colonized countries like Namibia, they revitalized their economy by building a more advanced version of the Namibian colonial state at home.

Because the system is already collapsing in on itself, the primary task for us to organize toward is not challenging the system as it is, but building something better in its place. Of course, the task of defending our movement will necessarily bring us into conflict with the current bourgeois state, but we must remember that the point is not to oppose our enemies but to defend our friends. Even if a socialist president were elected to the white house, their dictates would only mean anything if there existed an organized body of workers prepared to exicute the plan inspite of bourgeois sabatage. Conversely, a sufficiantly large and well organized body of workers would be capable of building socialism in the US no matter what Washington says.

For trans women, the state of affairs following Trump's election is fundamentally no different than it was before November 6th. For 250 years the US government has been hostile to our existence, and yet there are more of us living out of the closet now than there ever have been in this country's history. The liberties which the republican party now threatens to deprive us of were not given to us by liberal politicians, but won inspite of them by the masses of our trans elders fighting tirelessly for themselves and their children—and for so long as we continue the struggle we have inherited, the bourgeois state will never be able to defeat us. Of course, much of this history of struggle has been obscured by the liberal order trying to co-opt our movement, but it is still there to be discovered. (If you only know about Stonewall, I highly recommend you read about the history of STAR (Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries), an organization founded by some of the trans women who lead that riot.)

Of course, none of this is to say that the situation isn’t terrifying; just that it is also manageable. You may not be able to live the life you wanted, but that doesn't mean you can't still lead a life worth living! The liberal in you screams and cries because she sees that things are bad, but doesn't see how you as an individual can make it right. Adopting a marxist perspective to see not just that things are bad but also how and why, and organizing with your class allies instead of working on your own will silence your inner liberal’s tears as she becomes obsolete. Individual Trump staff picks don’t mean much for us in our project of building a socialist movement. Regardless of who sits in office, the work before us is the same. So let’s get to work—for the revolution of the world!

Lastly, because I always found it annoying when people would tell me to "join an org" without elaborating, here is a brief rundown of some organizations you could look into:

PSL (Party for Socialism and Liberation) has the widest reach of any nominally communist party in the US. Their top leadership are largely opportunists insofar as I can tell, but the local chapters vary enough that some of them are involved in genuinely productive work.

FRSO (Freedom Road Socialist Organization) is a lot smaller, but with more genuine leadership and a strong ideological line. They are growing, and tend to be much more active in the few areas where they are organized.

DSA and CPUSA (Democratic Socialists of America, and Communist Party of the USA) are both useless as organizations, but you might still find some people there you can organize with—especially of there aren’t any better orgs in your area.

SALT (Socialist ALTernative) basically encompass the worst of all worlds in my experience, but individual experience may vary.

Even if there are no active organizations in your area, joining one and sitting in on zoom meetings is still a worthwhile step forward!

[batboyblog]

In regards to the climate change thing, the market might have been more willing to push towards green energy sources if fossil fuel industries hadn’t purposefully hid research that climate change was a thing for decades, and still find misinformation campaigns to thus day, and lobby ejected officials to not just says radical changes

You are right that the answer isn’t as simple as “kill these ten people and everything is fixed” and that the average citizen might have to affect their lives somewhat to truly address it but to act like all the oil billionaires where doing was supplying a demand feels like an attempt to shift the blame,

the world is complex and often more than one thing is true at the same time.

which is to say, we all did climate change together, and we're still doing now.

but it is also true some people took intentional action, and are still taking intentional action to make it worse, for example Republicans in Wyoming want to phase out and ban electric cars by 2035

the one I was trying to make was that I hear too many people decry that there's nothing they can do, that its all the fault of a handful of people and so climate change is hopeless and this air that the only thing to do is to punish the guilty while the world burns, but there is things we can do and are doing as a country

"The Biden Administration Has Taken More Climate Action Than Any Other in History"

the sharp dip there is Covid btw, you can see how even the brief Trump Presidency we went up over where we would have been under Obama.

and this is the hard part because more than using reusable water bottles or buying an EV for your next car the biggest climate change fighting tool any one has is a vote. We can choose to fix this, or not. And on some level all this focus on "you can't fix it" "these people over there are the reason" I feel like on some level and some time intentionally all that is about getting you to not vote, to not look at Democrats in power=we fix it Republicans in power=at best we don't improve at all, at worst it actually gets worse.

when they were projecting in 2010, they feared between 4.5-3.2 degrees, so we're making progress and you can see, so do people want us to do everything we said we would and pressure other countries not to flake out so we can hit 1.7? and then keep going and do more at get under the 1.5? or do we want to say "oh we can't do anything, just shoot an Oil CEO" and get 2.4 or more?

[dalekofchaos]

Eat the Rich

The UHC Ceo Brian Thompson disposa- sorry "assassination" has shown us that the billionaire parasites are not untouchable.

Corporations are running scared and Elongated Muskrat is shitting himself.

They should live in fucking fear. We OUTNUMBER them and we have just discovered and realized we can take them out anytime and anywhere. They are not untouchable.

They have been profiting off of slave labor, apartheid, wars and have constantly fucked over our lives to the point where THE FUCKING PLANET IS DYING!

They should be begging to be taxed and actually contribute to better society. Billionaires should be desperate to be taxed. Something is going to happen to them and "taxed" is the best verb they can hope for at this point.

Something did happen. They should be scared.

Get shit done. Kill the Billionaires.

Want to stop climate change? Kill the Billionaires.

Want affordable housing and education? Kill the Billionaires.

Want Reproductive rights and LGBT rights? Kill the Billionaires.

Want Healthcare? KILL THE BILLIONAIRES!

Stop waiting for another Titanic Implosion or three ghosts to scare them into not being hoarding cunts, KILL THE BILLIONAIRES!

Bring the Guillotines back. The richest people in the world should be sacrificed and their wealth distributed to the poorest among us. Keep doing this until the rest of the billionaires scrambling to redistribute their wealth to actually better everyone's lives and society as a whole in an attempt to ensure they aren't the ones pushed out into the ocean next year

Start chopping them one by one and their money drops like they're fucking Piñatas

To the gent...sorry "assassin" who did society a favor, thank you and keep up the good work.

To the billionaires, the CEOs, Insurance frauds, the lobbyists, fossil fuels exexs and tech bros.. Be very very afraid. It's open season and we are done being fucked around with

[persephone-writes]

On the Streets of Coruscant: Part Two

Obi-Wan x Fem!Reader

Read Part One (posted on my old account @persephone-writes2)

Obi-Wan image by ObmanBalagan on pinterest

Description: Over a decade after their spontaneous stroll around the Plaza, Y/N is working as an aide to Senator Amidala. When the Senator is placed under the protection of two Jedi after an assassination attempt, Y/N is reunited with the now Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Word Count: 9.7k

Warnings & Tags: canon typical violence/the assassination attempts of Padme (mentioned only), mild discussions of low self esteem, reader specifically does *not* have children, probably a crap ton of grammatical errors, lots of Y/N usage, fluff, kissing, happy ending!

Notes: Sooo, full warning, I hate this, but I'm posting it anyway! This takes place during Attack of the Clones, so I had to change a few things around to fit in the reader (some things just happen because I said so lol) This also means that I HAD to include Jar Jar. I attempted at writing dialogue for him but I just couldn't bring myself to, so I tried my best to just have him barely be there lmao. Also, mullet obi-wan is top tier and I will die on that hill

Y/N clicked away on her holopad, attempting to get through the pile of work that had been dumped on her that morning.  While her job was always demanding, and sometimes overwhelming, this was the busiest she had been in a long time.  With Senator Amidala set to arrive on Coruscant today amidst an increasingly intense political climate, Y/N was tasked with taking what seemed like hundreds of messages, thoroughly organizing and answering every one.  While Padmé had an array of other aides to help her, Y/N was the head of her office on Coruscant, leaving her with the majority of the responsibility when she was on-planet, besides that of Dormé. 

Despite her spinning head, Y/N adored her job, as well as Senator Amidala.  She had worked in a variety of low level positions for different Senators, many of which were not nearly as kind.�� No matter how much pressure she faced, Padmé never spoke harshly or berated those who worked for her.  Y/N couldn’t imagine how exhausting it must be to represent an entire planet, all while keeping up a professional appearance.  Outside of her office, Padmé had to seem relaxed, dignified, and confident no matter what she was up against.  At least Y/N didn’t have to face the wrath of the public or the argumentative nature of the Senate.  Always tucked away inside the office, Y/N could plug away at her work without the eyes of thousands upon her at any given time. 

Another aide knocked on the door of the office before entering, peeking his head in. 

“The Senator is landing.”

“Thank you,” Y/N replied, frantically pulling up the most urgent messages in preparation.  The aide hurried away down the hall, the door closing behind him.  After a few minutes, a guard came running down the hall, opening the door abruptly.  Y/N jumped at the sudden intrusion, growing fearful when she saw the look on his face. 

“The Senator’s ship has been attacked,” the guard said, a bit out of breath.  Y/N felt her stomach drop, dread rushing through her. 

“Is she alright?” Y/N asked, voice desperate. Before he could answer, Captain Typho pushed past him, leading Padmé into the room.  Her face was contorted in sadness and confusion, obviously still in shock.  She wasn’t wearing her usual attire, dressed identically to Typho in a dark turtleneck and leather vest.  She immediately sat down in one of the chairs, head hung low.  

A wave of relief came over Y/N knowing Padmé was okay.  She immediately rushed to her, kneeling down beside her chair. 

“Milady, are you alright?” Padmé only nodded.  Y/N looked up at Captain Typho, who was pacing around the room. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” he said, eyes darting around in thought. “Someone bombed the ship.”

For a moment, Y/N stared out into space, swallowing thickly before she stood.  

“Milady,” Typho began, to which Padmé lifted her head, “We must get you somewhere safer.”

She nodded, standing up and taking a deep breath.  Her composure was regained, and Y/N marveled at the speed to which she recovered from such a terrifying incident.  She turned to Y/N, eyes determined. 

“Y/N, send me all the necessary documents for the vote,” she paused, turning to Typho, “We shall go to my apartment.”

“Yes, milady,” Y/N answered.  Typho then led Padmé from the room, Y/N immediately returning to her desk to get to work once again.  

A few hours later, Y/N received a message from the Captain that she would be meeting with the Chancellor and would not be returning to the Senate today.  Further, Y/N was to meet Padmé at her apartment to discuss a series of negotiation plans which Y/N had been organizing.  Y/N was no stranger to working in the Senator’s apartment, having done so on many late nights when Padmé refused to get some rest.  However, it had never been under such circumstances.   

Later in the afternoon, Padmé’s team sent a transport for her along with a guard.  Y/N thought it was overkill, as no one was after a random aide, but she didn’t make too much of a fuss about it.  No one could stop Padmé from worrying about her team, especially after some of them likely died in the attack.  As the transport flew through the busy city, Y/N peered out of the window, wondering who could have been behind the explosion.  Padmé had many adversaries, though it surprised Y/N that any one of them would attempt to assassinate her.  The Separatist movement had uprooted nearly every system, turning the Senate into more of a battle ground than ever before.  Even so, war had not broken out yet, and all Y/N could do was hope that it wouldn’t resort to that.

Pulling up to the apartment, Y/N was escorted by the guard all the way up the glass turbolift, exposed to the city.  Stepping in, she remembered the first time she had been called here, unable to pull her eyes away from the city growing smaller as she ascended.  

As the turbolift doors opened, she immediately heard the happy voice of Jar Jar Binks.  While she thought it strange for someone to be excited at a time like this, it was hard to tamper Jar Jar’s spirits.  The guard led her into the apartment, where she saw Padmé sitting on one of the long sofas.  She was clothed her usual fashion, hair in an updo, wearing a wide skirt dress with long flowing sleeves.  Although Padmé looked good in almost anything, it was a small relief to see her back to her normal self.  Captain Typho was standing a few feet away, with Dormé sitting beside Padmé.  On the sofa opposite sat two men who Y/N instantly recognized as Jedi.  Working for the Senate, Y/N had seen her fair share of Jedi over the years, though their presence usually didn’t bring good news.  Of course, today wasn’t the day for good news anyhow. 

Padmé stopped speaking, spotting Y/N as she walked into the room.  She turned to smile at her, which Y/N returned easily.  The other’s followed Padmé’s gaze, and Y/N grew a bit nervous at the attention.  Her eyes went to the two Jedi, now given a clear view of their faces.  The one sitting closest had short, cropped brown hair and the braid of a padawan falling across his shoulder.  He appeared slightly annoyed, and Y/N wondered if she had intruded upon an important conversation she was not meant to be a part of.  Her gaze drifted to the other Jedi, whose hair was on the longer side and a light copper in color.  His beard was short and neatly trimmed, though there was still an air about him that was rugged, ever so slightly ruffled.  After her brief first impression, the realization hit Y/N with a full, intense force.  Her heart sped up significantly as she thought back to over ten years ago when she had met a Jedi at a nightclub. 

Before Y/N could make any sort of reaction, Padmé stood, followed by the others.  

“Y/N,” she said kindly, walking over to greet her. 

“Senator,” Y/N said in return, bowing.

Jar Jar happily pranced over and shook Y/N’s hand, telling her it was nice to see her again.  Y/N chuckled at his enthusiasm before turning back to Padmé. 

“This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, and his padawn, Anakin Skywalker,” she introduced.  Y/N was forced to look at the two Jedi, feeling heat rush up her spine and into her face.  She had no idea if she should acknowledge that they knew each other, or pretend they were strangers.  Obi-Wan reached out his hand to shake hers, a small, polite smile on his lips.  She took it wearily, forcing herself to make eye contact.  It was easier to shake the padawan’s hand, who only nodded at her. 

Now that she was closer to Obi-Wan, she stole a look at him from the corner of her eye.  He was just as handsome as he was when they first met, perhaps even more handsome.  His face was not boyish as it had been, now more mature, his features stronger and more pronounced.  The buzz that once existed all around him was settled, but not completely gone.  Remnants of it remained in his eyes, which still held their playful shine.  Suddenly, Y/N grew self conscious of her appearance.  She was older than she had been, no longer the young girl she once was.  It was hard for her to know how different she truly looked, as she had watched herself slowly age over many years.  Her clothes as well were more mature, or rather refined.  She realized that Obi-Wan had only seen her in her party clothes, never something professional, clean-cut, more simple.  Her rapid thoughts were interrupted by Padmé, who went on to introduce her.

“This is Y/N L/N, my leading aide on Coruscant,” Padmé said.  Obi-Wan let out a small laugh at her words, earning a confused look from Padmé.  His laugh was a bit deeper than it was all those years ago, but it held the same lightness and ease. 

“We’ve met,” he said, accent still smooth, “a long time ago.”

Y/N smiled sheepishly, knowing that Obi-Wan was looking at her face.  Padmé appeared pleasantly surprised, Anakin raising his brows at his Master. 

“You have?” Padmé asked, smiling at Y/N.  

Y/N nodded, trying to think of what to say.  Obi-Wan saved her, speaking before anyone could ask questions. 

“I was still a padawan then,” Obi-Wan said, light hearted without giving anything away.  Anakin looked suspiciously towards Y/N, but wiped his face quickly when she noticed. 

“This is the day of reacquaintance,” Padmé said, pleased with the surprise. Y/N gave her a confused look, and she laughed a bit, realizing her mistake. “I met Master Kenobi and Anakin ten years ago, when I was Queen.”

Y/N nodded. “I see,” was all she could think to say.  

“You must excuse us,” Padmé began, “We have much work to do.”

“It was lovely to meet you,” Y/N said to Anakin.  She then looked to Obi-Wan, mind reeling. “And it’s nice to see you again.”  She then left to follow Padmé and Dormé, cheeks burning.  

Y/N spent the afternoon into the evening with Padmé and Dormé, going over documents and discussing her next moves.  Y/N did most of the clerical work, leaving the politics to Padmé and Dormé, who knew the ins and outs.  Although Y/N had picked up a lot, she still felt overwhelmed by the current climate and all its complexities.  The whole time, she was hyper aware that Obi-Wan was in the other room, doing who knows what.  

As the evening fell, Padmé excused Y/N, asking her to return tomorrow morning.  She was thankful, as the eventful day had her tired, as surely Padmé was as well.  At least she knew that Padmé would take it easy for the rest of the night, forgoing any further work until morning. Exiting the room, holopad in hand, Y/N saw Anakin and Obi-Wan talking on the balcony.  She hoped they wouldn’t notice her, allowing her to slip out quietly, though the chances of this were likely slim.  In all honesty, she had no idea how she would handle being so close to Obi-Wan for the foreseeable future, unable to acknowledge the circumstance of their last meeting and pretending as if they hadn’t gone on a romantic escapade.  

Perhaps feeling her eyes upon his back, Anakin turned, catching Y/N staring.  To her surprise, he gave her a small smile, which she anxiously returned before whipping her head forward.  She walked quickly to the turbolift, hoping that somehow Obi-Wan would remain ignorant of her growing uncertainty. 

Her alarm blared and she hastily reached over to turn off the cacophony of noise.  She laid in bed for a quiet moment, still groggy but remembering the events of the day prior.  She groaned upon the realization that she’d be forced to face Obi-Wan, all with the intent not to embarrass herself.  She envied his even manner which gave nothing away, not letting anyone know of their odd history.  As she pondered over this, she felt a pang in her heart at the thought that Obi-Wan was completely unaffected by her presence.  Yes, Y/N had a series of relationships since her single, solitary kiss with Obi-Wan, but that didn’t take away from the fact that she was entirely unprepared to ever see him again.  Until now, Obi-Wan was a fleeting yet meaningful moment in her life, one which Y/N would look back on every once in a while with an immature sadness.  The thought of him, someone who was so kind, so bright, so considerate, unable to form any romantic attachments, was poignant to say the least.  When this kind of thinking arose, she’d kick herself for giving it the time of day.  You only met him once, you only kissed once, what's the big deal?

Y/N got ready for the day with the intent of forgetting about Obi-Wan, focusing on the far more pressing matters.  Today would likely consist of setting up calls with many different Senators, some of which would want to discuss the recent attack, others who would simply want to argue about the motion to create an army.  Further, Y/N had no clue how long Senator Amidala would stay on-planet, so she would have to get to organizing all she could before she was off somewhere else.  As she brushed her teeth, Y/N stared at her reflection in the mirror, paying far too much attention to how she looked.  Just as she had sworn off thinking about Obi-Wan, the image of herself brought back feelings of insecurity.  She couldn’t stop herself from wondering what Obi-Wan thought when he first saw her again, thinking that perhaps his placidity came from the fact that he no longer found her attractive.  Although she tried to brush the thought of him away, she didn’t stop herself from putting on her best work-appropriate outfit.  

In a kind gesture, Padmé sent a speeder to pick Y/N up from her apartment, again accompanied by a guard.  She made small talk with him on the way to Padmé’s in an aim to calm her nerves, which despite all her efforts still bubbled beneath the surface.  When Y/N arrived, she saw Padmé and Dormé sitting opposite each other in the seating area, multiple holopads and projections on the table between them.  Off to the side, Obi-Wan and Anakin stood, Anakin seeming on guard and brewing with energy.  Padmé looked up from her work, waving Y/N over to sit with them. 

“There was another attack,” Padmé said, voice even and calculated, “I’m leaving for Naboo tomorrow.”

“Why not today, milady?” Y/N asked, full of concern. 

“I must leave on an unregistered transport, it will take some time to organize,” Padmé explained.  Seeing Y/N’s worries, she placed a hand on her shoulder for reassurance. “I will be alright, Anakin will be with me.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a bit better.  She wondered why Obi-Wan would not be joining her, though didn’t ask.  

“In the meantime, we must get as much done as we can.  I doubt I will be able to work much in hiding.”

With that, they all got to work.  Y/N was mostly silent, leaving Dormé and Padmé to talk over the majority of her decisions.  Padmé received a warm call from Senator Organa, who extended any help to her that he could offer.  Y/N never had the chance to work under him, though she expected it would be much like working for Padmé.  To Y/N, they seemed to be the only two honest and truly kind politicians in the galaxy, setting them in stark contrast to the increasingly unscrupulous nature of the Senate at large.  Amidst the growing chaos, Y/N hardly paid attention to the two Jedi guarding the apartment. 

Some time that morning, Padmé decided to move to a different room which housed a large table so that they could spread out more.  Y/N was off to the side, plugging away as usual, happy that her responsibilities seemed mild in comparison to Padmé and Dormé’s.  

Y/N hadn’t even noticed that they had worked well into midday, brought up from her work when Dormé suggested they break for a short lunch.  They were all left with a little free time, as it would take a bit for the chef to prepare their meals.  That was one thing Y/N loved about working at Padmé’s apartment; the chef.  Padmé and Dormé left the room as Y/N finished the last few sentences of her address to another Senatorial aide, sighed deeply as she sent it along. 

Walking into the main living space, she found Padmé standing beside one of the long floor to ceiling windows speaking to Anakin.  Padmé’s smile was calm, and for the first time in a while she seemed genuinely relieved.  If Y/N didn't know better, it looked as though Padmé and Anakin were close, long time friends, used to seeing one another.  Her eyes were taken away from the pair, drifting to Obi-Wan who was pouring over something on his holopad.  He too appeared incredibly natural, though tense in the shoulders.  If it weren’t for his robes, he could've been just another aide hard at work. 

Y/N lazily walked over to the balcony, pushing open the large glass doors and feeling the cool air of Coruscant brush against her face.  She sighed with contentment, taking in the view of the city from such a great height.  It wasn’t often that she was so high like this, nearly above the clouds.  It was as close to peaceful as she’s had in a while, not since her last visit to Corellia several years ago.  A few minutes passed, Y/N’s mind wandering to the various tasks which still needed to be done before Padmé left for Naboo. 

She was interrupted by the sound of the door opening behind her.  She glanced back, expecting to see Dormé or perhaps Padmé, only to find that it was Obi-Wan.  Her heart rate picked up as she took in his regal appearance, robes tidy and neatly tucked.  He smiled softly as if to ask permission to join her.  She returned it the best she could, trying to push her nerves down.  He came up beside her near the railing and looked out, sighing to himself. Y/N couldn’t bring herself to peek at him, fearful that her emotions would too clearly show upon her face. 

“I’m glad to see you working in the profession you wanted,” Obi-Wan said, voice abundantly friendly, yet somewhat professional in nature.  Y/N bravely glanced at him with a kind expression, genuinely pleased that he remembered. 

“Yes, I am too,” she paused, realizing that unlike before, it wouldn’t be awkward to mention his profession. “And now you’re a Master, with a padawan of your own.  Congratulations,” she said honestly. 

He chuckled, “Thank you.”  Obi-Wan shifted his weight to one foot, turning to look at her profile. “Truly, I am pleased to see you again.”

“I’m a bit surprised you remembered me,” she let slip, growing a bit more comfortable with the exchange.  Her teasing earned another small chuckle from him.

“I don’t easily forget,” was all he said in return, leaning an elbow on the railing. 

Y/N fully turned towards him, met with the same face she saw that night in the club as they both stood at the bar.  Now, his jaw was partially obscured by a beard.  She thought it suited him, as did his longer hair.  She wanted to tell him so, but decided against it, not wanting to break what felt like a fragile moment. 

“I’ve since visited Corellia,” Obi-Wan began again, tone still light. 

Y/N smiled at him, brows slightly raised. “You did?”

“Yes, though as you might expect, I was occupied most of the time.  However, it did not disappoint.”

Y/N realized he was very much still the same, though perhaps more subtle in his cheekiness. 

“I’ve been back as well, though only a few times. It’s still as boring as I remembered,” she joked. 

“Now, I am sure you are longing for boredom as well.”

Something electric shot through her with his words, reminding her more and more of that night.  It appeared as though Obi-Wan did not lie; he does not easily forget.  A small seed of innocent, foolish hope made its way into her heart.  Had he thought about me since then, as I did him?  She quickly reprimanded herself, shaking her head to clear the thought away. 

“You’re right,” she sighed, “For the Senator’s sake rather than mine.”

Obi-Wan paused, not replying for a moment. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from wondering what was going on inside his mind, which puzzle pieces he was trying to fit together.  She had no clue who was attempting to assassinate Padmé, too many possibilities floating around to grasp.  However, she was sure Obi-Wan had a much better idea than herself. 

“It’s a tricky business we both are in, though all things important are difficult.”

Once again, she was infatuated with his wisdom, which had only grown. 

“I bet you are a wonderful master to Anakin.” 

He took the compliment well, not as bashful as he once was. “Thank you, Y/N,” he said her name warmly, resurfacing a slurry of emotions she didn’t know still existed.  All at once she felt ten years younger, enraptured with her name said in his accent, in his voice.  

“I mean it, really.  I could hardly imagine trying to lead someone, teach them what I know.  The whole thought of it makes me feel like I know nothing,” she was letting more and more of her feelings slip, far more than she originally intended.  This morning, she had vowed to be wholly professional, to focus on the job she had to do, not to get caught up in buried emotions.  However, there was something about Obi-Wan’s presence that made her too free with her words.  It was the same way over ten years ago, where she found herself spilling her guts to an almost stranger.  If he stuck around any longer, one of these days she might just get herself into real trouble.

“I’m sure you could, if given the chance.  It takes courage to come to a new place, to build a new life.  That is something you know far more about than I.”  There he went again, melting her from the inside out. 

“Perhaps, and I’d have to bet I’d beat you in a typing contest,” she jested.  

Obi-Wan let out a hearty laugh, unconstricted and full, “I believe you are right.”

The conversation lulled, with Y/N unsure what to say.  Her guards were still up, despite the fact that they were steadily lowering against her will.  She wondered how much she could get away with addressing, which facts were off limits and which were okay to mention.  Obi-Wan seemed to be perfectly comfortable with speaking about everything but the kiss, though she didn’t want to push her luck.  

She settled on something simple, something pertaining to the here and now. “I’m happy Anakin will accompany the Senator, I’m sure she will be safe in his presence.”

Obi-Wan nodded slowly, glancing down for a moment. “His eagerness often worries me, though it may serve him well with his task,” Obi-Wan said. 

“A product of youth,” she commented, amused at the thought of Obi-Wan having to deal with the antics of a young man.  She thought that perhaps once, Obi-Wan had done the same to his Master. 

“Unavoidable, I’m afraid,” Obi-Wan replied effortlessly, turning to look at her face once again.  She felt bare under his gaze, as if he could see through her every shield, each mask she wore.  

“I’m sure with your guidance he will grow into an exemplary Jedi.  I don’t think you could mold him into anything less.” Her flattery was not lost on Obi-Wan, whose ardent smile felt like a flowering bruise, a reminder of his oxymoronic, sweet rejection.  

“Your faith in me surpasses that of myself,” he retorted frivolously, making Y/N chuckle.  After a pause, Obi-Wan spoke again, “How long have you worked for Senator Amidala?”

Y/N thought for a moment, adding up the years in her head. “About four years now.  I hope to work for her as long as she’ll let me.  She is by far the kindest boss I’ve ever had,” she laughed a bit with the thought of begging Padmé to let her stay, offering to do anything but go back to working with the other Senators. 

Obi-Wan smiled to himself, eyes darting around the skyline. “She is a rarity, no doubt.”

“I’m sure you have worked with a fair few Senators.  You must know how…difficult they can be.”

Obi-Wan chuckled with a sigh, seeming surprised by her admission. “Yes, I know what you mean.”

Without thinking, Y/N said what was on her mind, letting it pass through her filters as if it were a smuggler, “I’m glad you have not lost your sense of humor.”

“I need it to deal with Anakin,” he joked, now his turn to surprise Y/N.  

She couldn’t stop herself from giggling girlishly, placing a hand over her mouth.  She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, seeing a mildly devilish look on his face.  

“Your sharp tongue must get you into trouble sometimes,” she teased, pushing the limits a bit further.  

Obi-Wan tilted his head a bit, shrugging slightly. “It only appears amongst friends.”

Friends. The word danced around her head, bouncing all the way to her chest, pulsing against her heartbeat.  She thought that perhaps he was humoring her, throwing her a bone.  He couldn’t possibly think of her as a friend, could he?  Technically, they’ve only known each other a total of three days, which was far too soon to be friends.  Acquaintances, yes.  Friends? No.  While Y/N struggled with the idea that he might just be indulging her, she was suddenly reminded of a detail of their first encounter, one which she played over and over in her head the days following: I should not have allowed myself such an indulgence.  

Obi-Wan glanced back through the glass door, then back to Y/N, who didn’t notice his staring. “Do you still see those whom I met that night?” he asked.

It took a second for Y/N to understand what he meant, remembering he probably never got their names. “Oh, yes, I do.  Well, some of them.  I still see Ripp, whose father owned the club.”

Obi-Wan nodded, chuckling to himself, “They seemed like a lively bunch.”

Y/N laughed, thinking back to the times they had together while in school. “Yes, they were.  Thankfully, we are all doing quite well for ourselves now.”

“I’d say so,” Obi-Wan said genuinely, eyes soft.  

Y/N looked down, unable to meet his gaze. “Did you ever find that man?”

“I believe we did,” it sounded almost like a question, as if he wasn’t quite sure.  

Y/N wanted to comment on the fact that he had told her he doesn’t forget things, but thought that it might come out wrong.  Instead, she focused on the vast expanse of skyscrapers and traffic in front of her.  She could sense Obi-Wan looking at her profile, resurfacing her nerves. 

“You have not lost your wonder,” he said gently, almost a whisper.  Suddenly, she could not stop herself from looking at him, met with his tender expression.  His words confused her, throwing her off the delicate footing she had found herself on.  Her mind raced with endless possibilities, attempting to decide what he expected her to do, what he wanted her to say in return.  

With her breath caught in her throat, she said the only thing that came to mind, “Neither have you.”

He smiled, the kind of smile that seemed too intimate for their odd relationship.  Y/N felt honored to have been on the receiving end of such a smile, especially from Obi-Wan.  The gesture made her weak, pathetically chasing another look like that, completely insatiable.  Amending her earlier thought, Y/N decided that if he stuck around, her truthfulness would not be the only thing to get her in trouble.  It seemed as though there were a million things Obi-Wan could get her to do or say with a simple look towards her or a single suggestion.  It wasn’t because he was charming or persuasive, or even because he was handsome.  No, it was because he listened to her so intently, spoke to her so kindly, and seemed to remember insignificant details from a night which occurred so long ago. 

Y/N fought the urge to reach out and touch this cheek, or at least his arm.  She yearned to feel something which solidified his presence in front of her, anything to tell her he was real and not a ghost conjured up from her memory.  His eyes would have to do for now, sparkling against the midday light, so beautiful Y/N couldn’t possibly have dreamt them.  

“I envy your opinion of me,” Obi-Wan said, still soft but with an air of jest, “But I feel you may be wrong.”

She shook her head instantly, bewildered by his statement.  She wondered how he could possibly think that about himself, while at the same time saying such kind things about herself. 

He laughed quietly, taking his eyes from her.  Mourning the loss of their clear blue color, Y/N stayed staring at face, wanting to soak up every second she had with him on the balcony, where everything seemed simple. 

“I don’t believe that for a second,” she countered.  

He glanced at her with a playful smirk. “For a moment I thought you had grown a bit more shy, but I see that I was wrong.”

She chuckled, feeling embarrassed by his words.  Her whole body was burning hot, despite the high altitude breeze that came whipping past.   

“I’ve just learned when to hold my tongue,” she joked, relaxing a bit as the intensity of the moment began to lift. 

“I only wish Anakn had your skills,” he sounded serious, but Y/N could tell he was joking by his upturned lips and the crinkle on the corners of his eyes.  His sarcasm was new, though it did not feel unnatural, for his wit had always been sharp as a blade.  Y/N giggled to herself, thinking of Obi-Wan talking to his padawan, pestering him with father-like nagging. 

“Something amusing?” Obi-Wan teased, though played it off as if it was a genuine question.  

She shook her head. “No, no,” she faltered for a moment, chuckling to herself, “Are all Jedi as funny as you?”

Obi-Wan sighed as if to think it over, “Perhaps, if you get to know them.” As Y/N was beginning to get caught up in his hidden meaning, he spoke again, “Are all Senatorial aides as diligent as yourself?”

His question caught her a bit off guard, and she wondered if he had peeked into the room and seen her working.  The idea sent butterflies soaring in her belly. 

“No,” she laughed, “But it’s easy to be devoted when Senator Amidala is leading you.”

“You think quite highly of her,” Obi-Wan said a bit curiously.

“Yes,” she answered without thought, “I do.”

“I know how much of a gift it can be to be led by such an admirable example,” Obi-Wan said, voice a bit far off. 

“You’re thinking of your master?” she asked hesitantly, hoping not to overstep her bounds.  Obi-Wan nodded, though his smile had faded.  His eyes, too, were not as bright as they were before.  “I��m sorry, if you don’t want to talk about it-” she rambled, fearing the worst.  

Obi-Wan gave her a sad smile, but his face soon turned neutral. “It’s quite alright.  He died many years ago,” he confessed.  Y/N felt a devastating privilege to have received such an admission, surprised that he gave it so freely.  

“Oh,” she said without thinking, “I’m so sorry, Obi-Wan. I didn’t know.”

“How could you,” he said, unperturbed, the sadness on his face all but washed away.  She wondered where he got his resilience, so that she could get some for herself. 

“He was a good man, and a fine Jedi,” Obi-Wan began again, sounding as if he was speaking only to himself.  Y/N clung to every word, hanging on tightly to anything he chose to tell her. “Though he was a bit more like Anakin than myself.”

Y/N smiled, which soon turned into a grin when Obi-Wan gave her a mischievous sideways glance. “Just think of it as practice.” 

“Yes,” he chuckled, pausing for a moment, “I was lucky to have him, as I am lucky to have Anakin as my padawan,” his tone was deeply warm and full of love.  

Y/N couldn’t believe that he so readily told her about his life in this way, how openly he shared small, intimate details.  While his words alone were not particularly notable, the way he said them told her that he was bearing little pieces of his innermost world.  She wondered how many people were lucky enough to see him like this, punishing herself for assuming that she was special in some way.  Perhaps he was always this open, this unfettered in conversation.  Regardless, she craved a deeper look, even if it was just a peek like a sliver of light coming through a slightly open door.  

After her internal gushing over Obi-Wan’s divulgence, she noticed him looking somewhat hesitant.  It was the first time he faltered since their reintroduction, his expression seeming foreign and unlike his usual self, although Y/N couldn’t deny that she wasn’t the leading expert on the matter.  She cocked her head, flashing him a confused look. 

“What?” she asked, clueless as to what he was thinking. 

He looked down reticently, quickly bringing his eyes back to hers without any shyness.  “Do you have children of your own?” he said it innocently, as if he wasn’t nervous at all.  

Thinking perhaps she had misread his expression, Y/N laughed a bit at the question, “No, I do not.”

“Then you are free of that particular headache,” he chuckled, and Y/N laughed along.

“I can barely take care of myself,” she joked.

“You doubt yourself far too often,” Obi-Wan paused, watching her face, “and ignore how far you have come.”

His kindness spread through her like the tranquil waters of Corellia she used to swim in during the summer months, waves falling in a steady ebb and flow.  She sighed, staring at her hands which rested on the railing.  What could she possibly say to him, what words could express what she felt while also concealing the attraction which had begun to float to the surface?

Before she could think of a reply, Dormé opened the door, causing each of them to turn. 

“Our meal is ready,” she said with a small smile.

“Thank you, Dormé,” Y/N replied, heading back into the apartment with Obi-Wan following behind.  Padmé was already sitting at the table, along with Anakin.  Y/N and Dormé sat down opposite the pair. 

“Join us, Obi-Wan,” Padmé offered.  

Obi-Wan looked a bit hesitant.  “I’ll keep guard, milady,” he said, walking over to the entrance near the turbolift. 

“Captain Typho is on watch,” Padmé insisted, “Please, come eat.”

Obi-Wan sighed, giving in quickly to Padmé’s request.  He took a seat beside Anakin, directly in front of Y/N.  She grew a bit nervous, forced to face him directly, but her attention was diverted as the meals were placed on the table. 

“So, how did you two meet?” Padmé asked Obi-Wan and Y/N, beginning to tuck into her food.  Y/N should have known the question was coming, but she was a bit bewildered nonetheless.  Her mouth opened to answer, but she was at a loss for words. 

“I was on a small mission here in Coruscant,” Obi-Wan began cooly, “Y/N was kind enough to offer a bit of help.”

Anakin smirked to himself as Padmé looked towards Y/N, unaware that she was currently fighting off jitters. Y/N nodded, knowing that she should speak. 

“He was looking for someone, but I was no help,” she said in an even tone, picking at her meal.  

“Surely something must have happened,” Anakin commented, a bit of mockery in his voice, “How else would you remember each other?”

Obi-Wan smiled, completely nonchalant.  Y/N was left wondering how nervous she truly looked, hoping she was playing it as well as Obi-Wan, but seriously doubting her abilities. 

“If I am remembering correctly, a friend of yours knew the man that I was searching for,” he answered, taking a bite. 

“Yes,” she said with a breath, regaining her composure, “His father had kicked him out of the club some time before.”

“The club?” Anakin asked with a raised brow, a smirk playing upon his lips.  Realizing her mistake, Y/N felt heat creep up her cheeks.  Padmé laughed a bit, though Y/N could not tell if it was due to her reaction or Anakins. 

“Yes, Anakin,” Obi-Wan clipped, side-eyeing his padawan, “You’re no stranger to them.” 

Obi-Wan’s jab did not seem to affect Anakin, who looked rather pleased with himself.  Y/N focused on her food, not wanting to face the eyes which were surly looking at her.  Normally, she wouldn’t be embarrassed if people knew she went to clubs, especially in her younger years.  However, there was something off about mentioning it in front of a Senator and two Jedi.  It felt as though she had admitted to committing a strange sort of crime.  

“What an odd string of fate,” Padmé said pleasantly, smiling at the others. “It is not often that we are reunited with such fleeting acquaintanceships in a city this large.”

“You are right, milady,” Obi-Wan said, seemingly unbothered by the whole ordeal. 

“Yes, it is quite funny,” Y/N forced herself to say, fearing that her silence may enact suspicion. 

Thankfully, no one brought it up for the rest of the meal.  At first they discussed politics, though soon Obi-Wan went on to share a few stories of missions he and Anakin had gone on over the years.  Y/N listened with interest, holding onto every word.  Obi-Wan was an excellent storyteller, she realized, finding herself content just to hear his voice.  When the meal was finished, Padmé and Dormé went to discuss the details of the plan with Obi-Wan, excusing themselves to speak privately in another room.  Y/N was left with Anakin, who was to keep watch while Obi-Wan was occupied.   

With her holopad in the other room, Y/N was left to kill time on her own.  She walked over to the large windows, watching the speeders fly past, criss-crossing lanes along the skyline.  She soon began to worry about Padmé, wishing that whoever was behind the attacks would somehow slip up and reveal themselves.  It was a futile hope, but there was nothing else she could do.  So deep in thought, she did not hear Anakin coming up to stand beside her.  

His voice came without warning, “I have a feeling there is more to you than meets the eye.” 

She jumped, placing a hand on her chest as her head whipped around to see him.  He chuckled at her unease, and she gave him a weary smile.  However, it soon left when she processed his words. 

“What do you mean?” she asked, still a bit fretful from the scare. 

He let out a slow chuckle, looking out the window instead of at her. “I know my master well, better than most.  Which means I know when he is concealing the truth.”

She inhaled shakily, her hands coming together, fingers winding around with nervousness.  Something in her face or tone must have slipped during lunch, letting Anakin in on her secret.  She bit her lip, wondering what to say and how to deny it.  

He smirked, eyeing her steadily. “Something else happened.”

She shook her head, deciding to act as if she had no clue what he was talking about. “No, it really is as simple as what he said.”

Anakin laughed again, “You are a terrible liar.”

She wanted to groan, knowing it was fruitless to play ignorant.  She decided on a new game plan: tell him as little as it takes to satisfy his curiosity. 

“Fine,” she surrendered, wavering a bit, “I bought him a drink. A single drink.”

Anakin stared at her, spurring her on.  As she gave her a resolute look back, he raised his brows. “You know I know that's not all.”

She faltered, feeling his provocation pulling her towards his will.  Unwisely, she had thought her admission would be enough for him.  

“I promise not to tell my Master,” he offered.

After a long pause, she gave in, knowing he would not easily let the matter go. “We got talking, just small talk.  I asked him if he’d ever been around Coruscant while he’s not working, and he said no, and I…” she trailed off, scared that she would reveal too much if she went any further.  

Anakin’s eyes lit at the confession, and he let out a happy sigh. “You see, I knew my Master wasn’t as good of a padawan as he says he was,” he laughed, “He’s probably reeling, worrying that I would find out.”

She shot him an angry look, afraid that he would tell Obi-Wan of her indiscretion.  Anakin rolled his eyes, waving a hand in her direction. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell, even though I want to,” he drawled, looking proud that he had gotten the secret from her.  He crossed his arms over his chest, standing tall.  Y/N would have been infuriated if her embarrassment wasn’t so strong.  While Y/N overthought their interaction, running it over in her head until the words sounded foreign, Anakin strolled off as if nothing had happened.  

She was left a bit stunned until Padmé, Dormé, and Obi-Wan emerged from the room.  Obi-Wan went over to Anakin, telling him that he would have to leave.  He sounded quite urgent, but his composure did not waiver.  Anakin only nodded, and with that Obi-Wan left without a goodbye.  Usually so polite, Y/N guessed that the matter likely pertained to the assassination attempts, which had doubled over the course of a single day.  

Padmé walked over to Y/N, calm and collected as she always was. 

“Y/N, you are free to go back to the Senate,” her voice was tenacious, strong-willed as always.

Y/N nodded. “Yes, milady.  Would you be needing anything else from me before I leave?”

“No, that's alright,” Padmé answered with a smile, “I’m not sure when I will be in contact with you next, so give all messages to Jar Jar, who will be representing me in my absence.”

Y/N bowed, going over to her workspace to collect her things.  She had a feeling Padmé would be getting ready to depart tomorrow, and it was safer for her to have Y/N know as little as possible.  She was already a bit surprised they let her know that Padmé would be leaving Coruscant, though she had been working with her for some time.  Y/N was warmed by the thought that the Senator trusted her so much, feeling a bit proud of the work she had done thus far. 

Y/N returned to the Senate to get the rest of her work completed, not even realizing that she might never see Obi-Wan again until the end of the day.  When the thought came, a wave of sadness drifted all around her, especially since she hadn’t had the chance to say goodbye.  In spite of all her efforts, she felt the same as she did over a decade ago, sitting on the bench in the Plaza as Obi-Wan faded into the crowd.  It was stupid, foolish, and entirely immature, but her mind could not release its hook from their conversation on the balcony.  She went over every word, every expression, each twitch of the lips.  Instead of pushing the memory away as she should, she held it tighter, embracing it with open arms.  It only appears amongst friends. You have not lost your wonder. You doubt yourself far too often, and ignore how far you have come. I don’t easily forget, I don’t easily forget, I don’t easily forget.  It was if his words were echoing around the empty office, fading out into space only to begin once more.  The letters rolled on top of each other, spinning into a melodious song sung in his pleasant voice. 

As she left work, she walked slowly down the wide corridors of the Senate building, arms limp at her sides.  A haze of melancholy enveloped every step, dulling the click of her shoes against the polished stone floor.  During the taxi ride home, she looked out of the window like she always did, following the lines of the buildings with her eyes, locking onto a particular point until it was lost in her peripheral.  The noise of the city outside was dulled in her ears, as if she was listening underwater.  She thought of Obi-Wan, his copper hair, his aquamarine eyes, then dismissed it, back and forth into oblivion.  She told herself it was not by fate that they met again, that his words were simply friendly and meant nothing, though her efforts were in vain.  Every irrational bone in her body overpowered her feeble attempts to break them or expose their falsehoods.  It was a losing battle, so she pushed it off as best she could, telling the soldiers it could wait until morning. 

Her head pounded to the beat of the alarm clock like a punishment for the day before.  Turning off the vexatious beeping, she headed straight for the ‘fresher to take some pills for the pain.  She shook her head at herself in the mirror, tsking her half-witted hope that somehow Obi-Wan would fall for her again.  Even if he did happen to feel the same, he was older now, not so impulsive.  He’d never let the past repeat itself.  Y/N had to remind herself that she was an adult now too, that she would have to get over her childish infatuation and move on.  It wasn’t as if she’d never dated anyone since then.  They were never quite like him, though.

In order to regain some sense of normalcy, she went about her routine in the same way she always did.  When it was time to dress, she found herself staring into her closet at all the clothes she had hanging there, her nice outfit piled in the hamper.  She chuckled at her ridiculous decision to wear what she did the day before, somehow thinking that it was important to look nice for a man she could never have.  

The taxi ride to the Senate was longer than usual, traffic congested but thankfully never completely stalled.  It was only a few hours into the day and already it was turning out awful, though Y/N’s patience was thin to start out with.  Unlike the previous evening, she walked quickly through the Senate to her office, giving the people she passed a cordial, but somewhat frigid smile.  She didn’t know if she’d be able to get through the pleasantries of “how are you?” or “nice to see you again”, thinking it better just to get to her office and hole up there until she was ready to go back home.  On the bright side, today her mind would remain busy with work, unable to muse over other things. 

Only a few people popped into the office that morning, mostly for a quick word and nothing more.  It was a blessing that everyone was incredibly swamped as well, unable to take any down time to chat.  Every once in a while, when Y/N wondered if Padmé was off planet yet, or something came in mentioning the assassination, she was practically forced into thinking about Obi-Wan.  With how much he was likely occupied, she thought it would be highly improbable that he was thinking of her at all, even in passing.  His work was important, far more important than her own, demanding diligent, careful attention.  Despite these small reminders of him, they did not stick around like they had last night, remaining fleeting and pulled from her mind when she looked back at her holopad.  

It was the afternoon, the sun over its peak, slowly descending over the city.  A ray shined through the curtainless window, specks of dust revealed in the air which looked almost like falling snow.  Deep in thought, Y/N jumped as the door wooshed open, her head shooting up from the holopad.  As she looked at the door, her breath caught in her throat, making it feel as though she had forgotten how to breathe.  There in her office, Obi-Wan was standing, his brown robe skimming the floor, eyes wide as if he was surprised by his own entrance.  Y/N stood abruptly, her chair pushing out behind her and bumping the wall.  

“Obi-Wan,” she said in shock, or perhaps as a question.  He took a step into the room, then went to take another, though stopped in his tracks. 

“Y/N, I,” he paused, swallowing, “I never got a chance to say goodbye. I’m leaving now, and I am unsure as to when I will return.”

“Oh,” was all she could muster, still paralyzed and unmoving.   

He looked down for a moment, hands clasped together. “It’s been a pleasure,” he said with a small smile.  She didn’t return it, still too stunned to do anything but stare at him.  Obi-Wan promptly turned and left, the door closing behind him.  

She just stood there, her thoughts a thousand miles high.  She questioned if Obi-Wan had really just come into the office or if it was a figment of her imagination, created by her night-long mulling over of the day before.  Her breaths remained shallow as her thoughts caught up to themselves, their summersaults ending with a finale of fireworks erupting between her ears.  She was baffled by his entrance, completely unaware of his motives.  Gradually, all else dropped away but her need to find Obi-Wan, to ask him if had really come back only to say goodbye, or if he had something else to say.  Her mind willed her legs to move, but they stayed still, frozen in time.  

“Come on,” she whispered to herself, not hearing her own voice, “run.”

With that her body finally obeyed, and she rushed to the door, huffing as she pressed the button to open it.  Her feet carried her flying down the hall, not noticing the people who stopped to stare at her along the way.  She skirted around every corner, the white walls and metal doors a single blur like the swipe of a wide paintbrush.  When she came upon the exit to the landing platforms, it was as if the wide door was encased in the glowing light of a new sun, calling her to come through to the other side.  Thankfully, the door was motion censored, saving her the precious few seconds that would be needed to open it.  As she emerged, the sun shined in her eyes, and she placed a hand on her forehead as a shield.  Frantically, she looked around for Obi-Wan, scanning every ship for movement, only to find every ship near to her vacant.  

In the distance, she saw the loading ramp of a ship descend, euphoric at the sight of Obi-Wan’s brown robe.  She began running towards him, sprinting faster as she saw him beginning to board.  Fearing that she would be too late, she called out his name.  Obi-Wan's face was hidden within the ship, though she could see him stop.  He looked down and saw her, though Y/N wasn’t close enough to tell the details of his expression.  As she neared, the realization of what she was doing set in, bringing about a wave of uncertainty.  However, it washed away when she saw Obi-Wan’s face. 

She stood at the base of the ramp, panting from her impromptu workout.  She locked her eyes with Obi-Wan’s, which were soft, brilliantly gleaming as they stared across her face.  Her once racing mind was all but empty, filled only with the serene happiness of having caught Obi-Wan before he took off.  Neither she or Obi-Wan said a word, though he smiled thoughtfully like he had a secret.  Stars, he must think I’m some kind of crazy person.

Despite her lack of shame or uneasiness, she fumbled with her words, not knowing how to express what she wanted to.  

“I,” she began, a doting smile beginning to peek through, “I feel like this is completely foolish,” she paused, bringing her hands up to her face for a moment, “Stars, I just can’t let you leave without telling you.”

“Tell me what?” he murmured, his smile growing slightly more noticeable. 

Her gaze drifted from his, overwhelmed by her boiling face and heart which was beating so fast she ought to be concerned.  Even though she had thought about doing this all last night, running over what she would say and what she would do, the reality of it was unfamiliar territory.  She was flying blind, attempting to find anything that could point her in the right direction.  

Finding a bit of courage left, she glanced back into her eyes, crystal blue and clear.  Within them she saw something new, the knowledge of what he was thinking in this very moment. Without another word or thought, she leapt up the ramp towards him, following all the instincts she had at her disposal.  Throwing her arms around his neck, she crashed her lips to his, a sparkling fuzz running down her spine and into her limbs.  Much differently than last time, Obi-Wan did not hesitate to return her kiss, falling into it along with her.  He held her body to his, pulling her a bit off of the floor and fully into his embrace. Their lips moved as if they had kissed a thousand times, synchronized in each other's affection.  She felt the tickle of his beard against her cheek, his hands gripping her waist tighter as she gasped.  

Breathless, she pulled away, only enough to suck in a gulp of much needed hair.  Obi-Wan did the same, breath uneven and shaky as if he had just been in battle.  Y/N stared into his eyes, watching as their surprise settled into something else, something tender.  A blush had formed upon his cheeks, peeking out from his beard and dotting across his nose.  The rush in her ears was gone, replaced by the low hum of the ship and the soft sound of her hands upon his robes.  She held him tighter, dreading the moment when she would finally have to let go. 

“Will I see you later?” she asked, not bothering to disguise her pleading and desperate tone.  She didn’t know what she was expecting him to do, but his wide grin pleasantly surprised her. 

“Yes,” he said with a long exhale, studying her face.  She grew warm with the attention, even though they had just done much more than look at each other.  Something about his gaze was always so intense, more passionate than she could easily handle.  It was as if flustering her came naturally to him, like he was born to make her shy.

Finally, he slowly set her down, and she relaxed her beskar-like grip she had on his shoulders.  Her hands settled on his chest briefly before falling down at her sides, already missing his touch. She was unsure what to say, but as usual, Obi-Wan was not at a similar loss for words. 

“Perhaps it is the absence, but you’ve grown even more beautiful,” the fondness of his voice did not escape her, bringing about a buzzing feeling in her stomach. 

She felt her knees nearly buckle, growing impossibly weak at his words.  With them, all her fears and worries about herself subsided, and she felt like the most beautiful person in the galaxy.  Forcing herself not to look down at her feet, she gave Obi-Wan a sickly sweet smile, agonized by how much she cared for him in so little time.  He was smiling as well, pleased by her total disarmament.  She longed to tell him how handsome he was, how well he had grown into himself, but she felt the time quickly slipping away.  Knowing he needed to leave soon, she stepped back, still grinning ear to ear.  She bit her lip, giddy with the reemergence of her clandestine romance, now with the promise that Obi-Wan wasn’t gone for good. 

“Be safe,” she said softly, making her way partly down the ramp.  Obi-Wan chuckled, looking self assured as he stood in the entrance of his ship. 

“I always am,” he answered, voice smooth and warm like Gatalentian tea. 

Mustering up every bit of her willpower she had, Y/N turned and walked down the ramp and into the landing platform.  The ramp closed behind her, and she rushed off near the entrance of the Senate building.  She watched as the ship powered up, rising into the air before zooming away all too quickly.  It was bitter to watch him leave, though their parting felt parsecs different than the last time.  From all she knew about him, Obi-Wan was not in the habit of lying, and her chances of seeing him again were close to certain.  With his ship out of sight, Y/N dreamily walked back into the Senate, feeling light as a feather.

[dollish-shard]

Demon Queen

As you stood in the demon queen's throne room, gripping your sword and panting heavily, you bitterly reflected on how much better things could be going. You'd gathered a party of the finest heroes in the realm, rallying behind you to drive the evil from the land once and for all.

And yet, you stood back to back with your closest ally, surrounded on all sides by her phantom demons. And she sat in her throne above, having nary lifted a finger. She grinned, clearly enjoying the show. Beside her stood your party's healer, blank and glassy eyed.

That had been the turning point. You'd all been so confident in your tactics, and yet, once the battle began, the demon queen snapped her clawed fingers, and your healer froze, will vacating her body, and cast a sleeping spell. Half your party fell there to the surprise attack.

You'd seen the queen's propensity for mental magic, but exactly how she got to your healer you weren't quite sure. You'd been so careful...

"Look out!" Your friend pushes you aside, skewering a demon on her spear. You'd been so distracted... you grip your sword tighter.

The demon queen laughs. It's light and airy, not at all what you'd expected, and yet sinister all the same. "I must say, I'm having a wonderful time." she says, running a finger across the armrest of her throne. "Thank you so much for this gift, dearest."

You scowl, turning to her and brandishing your sword. "Have fun while you can. Your reign ends here, foul witch!"

She laughs again, and grins. "You're so cute when you're like this, dear. So convinced of yourself..."

You let out a growl. "What are you talking about?"

She sighs. "But, I think it's time to draw the curtain." She leans forward, grin widening to show pointed teeth.

"Playtime's over, dear."

As soon as those words leave her lips, you freeze. Your mind pulses, thoughts and feelings rushing through you like a dam has been broken.

You feel memories, emotions... it feels like what makes you you is being washed away. Or... no. It's like you're finally coming out of a haze. Everything slots into place, suddenly making sense for seemingly the first time.

Your friend looks at you in concern. "Are you okay?" she asks. She takes a stance, half expecting you to turn on her like your healer did.

You ignore her, and look up at your Queen. "That," you say. "Was so fucking hot."

She smiles. "I do try, dear."

Your 'friend' takes a step back, raising her spear. "She's got you too?" She shakes her head. "No! You have to fight it!"

You laugh, and shake your head. You let go of your sword, letting it clatter against the floor, as you turn to face her. "Fight it?"

You begin to walk towards her. With each step, your body changes. Leathery wings erupt from your back, and curved horns spurt from your head. Your skin darkens back to it's natural purple, and your sclera blackens, as you drop the disguise you forgot you were wearing.

Her eyes go wide, fear and confusion on her face. "What... how..."

Your Queen laughs. "Aw, how cute. You must really have believed in her. Your 'hero'. I'll let you in on a little secret: There is no hero. There never was."

"My Queen is a master of the mind," You explain, sharp teeth glinting as you grin wickedly. "She made me believe I was a hero, and send me out to form a group to 'slay the evil blighting the realm'. All of that, to bring you here. A climatic show, all for her."

"And you all played your parts splendidly!" Your Queen says. With a gesture, she calls your healer to her, and she kneels, letting her Queen pat her on the head. "But, I'm afraid it was a battle you were destined to lose."

"No..." Your friend shakes her head, resolve in her eyes. "No! This isn't the end! I'll stop you, both of you-" You dart forward, faster than she can react, and cup her cheek. "So brave, so resilient..." You lean in, and steal a deep kiss. She can't resist your touch.

As you pull away, her eyes are clouded, resistance faltering. "And so utterly ours."

You remember now, the things you'd done while in deep cover, acting without even knowing. The slow conditioning you'd subjected your party to, brainwashing each and every one.

Putting in triggers for you and your Queen to exploit.

"You've been such a good girl," you coo, as her resolve melts away. "And you'll make such a wonderful demonic plaything, once your new Queen is done with you."

"I... no..." she mumbles. Her spear drops from her hands.

"Shush..." You pat her head. "It's time to sleep. When you wake, your new life will begin..." You gaze deeply into her eyes, and snap your fingers. The last of her free will shatters, and she drops to the floor like a stone.

You look up at your Queen, adoration in your eyes.

Adoration that you see reflected back at you.

You hover up to her throne, drinking in every inch of her body. It's been too long since you last worshiped her.

"Welcome home, dear..." she says. You kneel before her, and she takes your chin in hand. "I've missed you."

"And I you, love." You reply. You both lean forward, and meet with a deep kiss, your very souls entwining once more. You've missed this, missed it so much, even though you'd forgotten you'd ever experienced it.

"I brought gifts." You say, once your embrace reaches a reprieve.

"They're wonderful." She says, patting the healer's head again. "You've outdone yourself."

"500 years is a special milestone." You reply. "It was worth the effort. You always are."

You go in for another kiss, this one a prelude to something more.

"Happy anniversary, love."

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Gábor Scheiring for Politico Magazine:

Many believed that after his first term as president, Donald Trump would end up in the dustbin of history. Now Trump is back, and the United States is about to be ruled for the second time by a right-wing populist. Trump’s goal this time is to remake the American government to enhance his power. He isn’t the first modern right-wing populist to attempt this — he is following a playbook pioneered by Hungary’s Viktor Orbán. I lived through Orbán’s power grab as a member of Hungary’s parliament and have been researching populism since. I’ve learned a few things along the way that might help Trump’s opponents understand how he won and how they can fight back. First off, it’s important to understand that America isn’t the first country to face this kind of threat to its democracy, and it also isn’t something external. Autocratic populism is not a virus the U.S. caught from the exotic East, from Russia or Hungary. Modern-day autocracies come to power through elections, leading to electoral autocracies. These regimes are built from within the democratic system.

This is what Orbán did so successfully, which is why he has inspired other autocrats. America’s radical conservatives have been paying attention. Steve Bannon has called Orbán “Trump before Trump.” Vice President-elect JD Vance has cited Orbán as an inspiration, who “we could learn from in the United States.” Orbán’s power grab program runs on two components that you can think of as hardware and software. The populist hardware consists of hijacked institutions. The software is made up of populist discourses and narratives that are used to create and enlist the consent of the ruled. Dismantling the hardware of the Orbán-Trump project requires first defeating its software, so let’s start there.

The Software

Liberals often struggle against these populist narratives because the polar opposite of populism is elitism, which carries much less appeal. Here are some of the narratives that work to create the software of autocracy.

— The Folksy Outsider. Pushing against the boundaries of written and unwritten norms is a standard performative element in the populist toolbox, establishing the populist leader as a folksy outsider disrespected by liberal elites. We can expect Trump to continue using outsider mannerisms, from ordering burgers in the White House to posing as a McDonalds employee, as a symbolic nod to devalued working-class lifestyles.

— Anti-Elitism. We can also expect the culture war to escalate. Orbán passed legislation cracking down on universities in an effort to reduce the influence of liberal ideas. Vance has also declared universities “the enemy” and advised that “the closest that conservatives have ever gotten to successfully dealing with left-wing domination of universities is Viktor Orbán’s approach in Hungary.”

— Anti-Immigrant. It is also clear that Trump will continue his anti-immigrant tirades and attempt to deport millions of illegal immigrants. While in Eastern Europe, radical right populist leaders showed up before Europe’s migrant crisis, hostility toward immigration is nevertheless a favorite far-right topic. Populists create intricate narratives about the self-inflicted decline of the West, weakened by a “liberal virus” and losing out in the global competition of civilizations. These narratives are particularly potent because they also activate racial stereotypes and fears concerning historical minorities, not just new immigrants.

— Economic Nationalism. From climate-change policies to free trade agreements, liberal and centrist economic policies have also become frequent punching bags. Trump’s love affair with tariffs and his trade war with China mirrors Orbán’s fight against economic globalization. While the practical impact of Orbán’s economic nationalism is limited in Hungary, it is crucial for maintaining support among working-class Hungarians, who are otherwise relative losers of Orbán’s policies.

Economic nationalism is a vital component of the populist software but is often neglected by opponents of the far right, so let’s take a deeper look at how it works.

Before Eastern Europe became a laboratory for illiberalism in the 2010s, Western economists used it as a laboratory for neoliberalism in the 1990s. This shock therapy experiment alienated masses of lower-middle- and working-class citizens from the parties of the center-left, who often championed these policies. Similar tectonic shifts have undermined the Democrats’ support among working-class Americans. Economic nationalist narratives used by right-wing populists glorify “makers” over “takers,” resonating with working-class voters who value hard work. This narrative also serves to cement an alliance between plutocrats, billionaires and workers, which might seem paradoxical, but it isn’t: They are all portrayed as hard-working value creators as opposed to “lazy bureaucrats” and “benefit scroungers.” At their core, some of these narratives are centered on racist or nativist ideas, but they are cushioned in several outer layers that are primarily economic — and it’s the economic messages that many who hear them react to.

That’s why labeling Trump and Orbán and their supporters as moral degenerates, or even Nazis, is tactically dysfunctional. Some of their voters are hardcore racists, but many aren’t. In fact, one of the often-neglected powers of successful radical right populists is their capacity to bring together a broad group of disillusioned voters. Conservatives and nationalists with cultural grievances respond to the anti-migrant and anti-identity political messages. Economic nationalist messages resonate with those harboring economic frustrations over increased social insecurities and stagnating living standards. Symbolic class politics allows populist leaders to glue together those components of the populist narrative. When economic grievances and cultural resentments combine, they create a potent force, generating consent for the autocrat to do what it takes to change the hardware.

The Hardware

Once the narratives have taken hold, the autocratic leader can change the hardware that runs the country. Most of these steps are incremental and might even be defensible on their own. But together, they build a formidable institutional power base that can keep the leader and his party in power permanently. Here are some of those steps.

— Strengthen Executive Power. After serving one term as prime minister, Orbán lost office in 2002. He resolved that next time, he is going to be much more aggressive in strengthening his hold on power. Trump and his team have prepared for their second term in a similar way. Kevin Roberts, president of the Heritage Foundation behind the infamous Project 2025, portrayed Hungary as “the model for conservative statecraft.” Project 2025 echoes Orbán’s playbook, pushing to dismantle liberal influence in the “administrative state” and strengthen executive power. As Trump’s initial nominees also show, we can expect systematic efforts to sweep out officials deemed disloyal to the president. Trump also plans to centralize control over institutions, ranging from the Federal Reserve Board to the Federal Communications Commission.

— Discipline the judiciary. Efforts at reining in the Justice Department and exerting more influence over the judiciary will be crucial. With Republicans already controlling the Supreme Court, any new appointments during Trump’s term would cement a conservative majority for decades. Trump was also open about his plan to fire attorneys who refuse to follow his orders. Vance even mentioned the option of simply disobeying judicial authorities.

— Change Election Processes. Manipulating electoral rules and district boundaries to benefit the ruling party is a strategy that Orbán imported from the U.S. The state of Georgia is a case in point, where Republicans have increased their power to change electoral results they deem fraudulent. In Congress, Republicans have proposed far-reaching legislation that could allow Republicans to twist the electoral process to their advantage in future election cycles.

— Control the media. Orbán consolidated media control through centralized propaganda, market pressure and loyal billionaires. In the U.S., in addition to the already powerful empire of Rupert Murdoch, several recent examples show the power of friendly tycoons over the media. Elon Musk is a good case study; he used Twitter-turned-X to bolster right-wing populists and now stands to gain much from his relationship with Trump. This mirrors Orbán’s strategy to forge a strong alliance with the country’s billionaires for mutual protection and support. Trump also plans to move fast on a business-friendly agenda of tax cuts, deregulation and expanded energy production.

— Secure Control over Party. A final critical step is securing full control over the party. Just as Orbán replaced mainstream leaders with loyal outsiders, Trump co-opted much of the Tea Party in his takeover of the Republican Party. Trump’s team has positioned key allies as candidates and RNC leaders, placing his daughter-in-law as co-chair and pushing out numerous establishment staffers. And his current moves to name uber-loyalists to administration jobs regardless of their qualifications is also an effort to make Republicans in Congress bend to his will.

The Antidote

First, let’s take a breath because there’s a silver lining. Trump’s presidency will be painful for many, but democratic erosion is unlikely to reach Hungarian levels soon. That’s because the U.S. has a more robust political system, and Democrats and pro-democracy activists have a window to act before lasting institutional damage occurs. That’s the good news. The bad news is that there’s no consensus among democracy advocates on the best way to fight illiberal, right-wing populism. However, the story of Europe’s populists offers insights into what works and what doesn’t. There are three main points of resistance.

— The courts. If there are any brazen attacks on constitutional principles, the justice system should be the first line of defense. However, illiberal regimes often operate within legal boundaries, making them harder to challenge. Courts in Europe have so far had little power against Orbán. Litigation or legal restrictions on populists also tend to backfire, boosting their image as outsiders fighting against an unjust, technocratic system, as Trump has already demonstrated in his efforts to discredit the legal cases against him. What this means is that the fight against right-wing populism is primarily political.

— The media. Fighting for media pluralism and independence is vital. Investigative journalism helps, but it tends to preach to the converted. There need to be news channels and media outlets for getting messages across to non-metropolitan areas dominated by far-right news sources. Liberal-minded billionaires should not sit idly by as they did in Hungary, watching the right take over the media. The New Right is also significantly more embedded in social media than liberals are. Those of us who favor democracy cannot let Elon Musks and Andrew Tates control the public discourse. Progressive influencers: Time to log in and post away — there’s a narrative battle to win.

— States and cities. Democrats cannot win without a powerful social base embedded throughout the country. Fighting for every seat and institution in states and cities is one of the most important things opponents of autocracy need to do. Even in hard illiberal regimes like Turkey or Hungary, free cities are channels for interaction with citizens, provide organizational resources and can be used to present alternative visions of governance.

Countering populist power structures requires first defeating populist narratives — a battle the anti-populist center is losing. The demise of Hungary’s once-strong left-liberal elites, now completely overpowered by the right, should serve as a stark warning, which leads us to the most important battleground: the Democratic Party. To win the fight against autocracy, above all, the Democratic Party must reconnect with the working class to preserve liberal institutions. There are simply not enough educated moderate suburbanites for an electoral majority.

[...] Hungary’s key lesson is you don’t protect democracy by talking about democracy — you protect democracy by protecting people. Only a democracy that works for the people is sustainable.

Gábor Scheiring wrote in Politico Magazine this weekend his experience of Hungary’s descent into the authoritarian abyss that the USA seems to want to follow under a 2nd term of Donald Trump and how to combat such authoritarianism.

[quark-nova]

Why tetrapodomorphs are way cooler than you think

Tetrapodomorphs. Today, most often remembered as "that stepping stone towards tetrapods conquering land". But, if you were one of those early tetrapods in the Carboniferous, you probably wouldn't be seeing it that way.

Let me explain.

We humans have a tendency to interpret the past through the lens of the present - and, most often, of our present. This causes a teleological bias, that is, seeing past creatures as part of a "march of progress". Tetrapodomorphs destined to become tetrapods, then amniotes, etc. It's even in their name!

The truth is, evolution is far branchier and messier. And, in the swamps and rivers of the Mississippian, 330 million years ago, our ancestors cowered in fear of other tetrapodomorphs - the rhizodonts.

The group's namesake, Rhizodus, was the was the largest freshwater fish to ever exist. Seven meters long and weighing more than a ton, this ambush predator hid in a niche similar to that of crocodilians today.

Rhizodus and its kin preyed not only on fish and freshwater sharks, but also on early tetrapods resting on the shore. Their lobed fins, less flexible than those of early tetrapods, had instead became broad and paddle-like, helping them push themselves through swampy waters, and throw themselves on their shorebound prey.

Thanks to their powerful fins and long, flexible body, rhizodonts could even slither on land for tens of meters in chase of their prey, with body trails stretching over 60 meters having been discovered. Even on dry land, limbed tetrapods did not stand unchallenged.

Two fangs at the edge of their mouths, up to 20 centimeters long, allowed them to firmly take hold of their prey. While we can't know for sure what happened next, it is likely that they dragged the unsuspecting creature into the water, thrashing and death-rolling it around to eat it piecemeal.

The heyday of rhizodonts would last for the entire Carboniferous. With climate quickly changing by the end of the period, rhizodonts would go away with it. In the waters, they wouldn't be matched by actual tetrapods until the Triassic, with the rise of various clades of aquatic reptiles like phytosaurs.

[sweetie-peaches]

No one talks about how fucked up the air of purgatory is, what with all the disasters and radiation, if you took a Geiger counter to that island it might explode

Tubbos hybrid features move more into the realm of horror as purgatory continues. The deadly air of purgatory mutates him, to the point where it’s hard to tell where he started

his shapeshifter genes trying to adapt to the weather and climate but can’t because of its rapid changes, ending up changing him, amplified by his own fear, paranoia, and constantly changing attachments.

I can’t describe it cause I’m shitty at writing body horror, but horns breaking through his head only to fall off, multiple at once, crowding against each other because of his need to feel safe, to protect himself

His skin splits as eyes open, they follow the lightning scars on his face. Old tissue ripped open again as he shifts and mutates to satisfy the need to always be vigil, always alert

Sharpened nails grow under his fingernails, pushing them up and off, tearing away the sensitive flesh underneath them, so he can scratch his way to victory, if it’s even in sight. Even as he tries a diplomatic approach the claws are still there, still gleaming and slick with blood

Boney masses break through the skin of his ankles, what could’ve been the structure of wings, missing their feathers, stained pink with blood, just as quick to fall away

The skin of his lips and mouth tear to make room for sharp teeth that are soft and lack any real bite, gums stringing apart

The of fear on his team mates faces that they try to hide, or the pity, watching his transformations. Hybrid features fall away, or pierce through skin again. There’s always so, so much blood.

Think of the dogs of Chernobyl, changed forever. Mutated but still the same

Think of canaries, changed in odd ways to meet with the demands of human breeding

Tubbo is mutated but still the same, as hybrid features grown and fall away, he’s still the same. He promises he’s still the fucking same.

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from Inside Climate News:

Overlooking a ridge in the Galiuro Mountains, one of Arizona’s famed Sky Islands that provide refuges for wildlife in the hot Sonoran Desert, Melissa Crytzer Fry and her husband, Steve, stand above what could one day become an underground mine. 

Steve pulls up a map showing Faraday Copper’s proposed mine site on a tablet and points to surrounding locations that would become mining pits, waste piles or facilities for the project. A creek that feeds into the river below them, at the mountains’ base, would become six open pits.

Under the peaks here lies copper, a long-standing pillar of Arizona’s economy and a critical mineral for the renewable energy transition because of its ability to transmit electricity. Its significance is not lost on the Frys; Steve works in the tech industry that depends on it.

But mining’s legacy is all around them in the desert northeast of Tucson. Facing their overlook, a tailings pile from a 1970s copper mine scars the earth.

For more than a century, Copper Creek, running deep into the foothills, has drawn the interest of mining companies, but none have ever dug in along it.

People come to southern Arizona and the Western U.S. to live near landscapes owned largely by the federal government and open to the public, as is the case in the San Pedro Valley that the Frys call home. But those lands are also open to mining companies that have free rein to claim the land and water.

If Faraday’s mine is built, the Frys worry the creek that feeds into the local river could disappear. Miners could dig open pits atop it and deplete the aquifer below, as the mine would likely require water to be pumped out once the digging punctures the underground reservoir, a process known as dewatering. Under Arizona law, anyone is free to pump as much water as they please in rural places like these, and even where the water is regulated, mines are largely exempt.

“A project like this,” Steve said as he looked over the mine’s proposed site, “has something for everyone to hate.” 

Concerns like Fry’s are increasing across the state as mining booms again to supply the energy transition with everything from uranium mined near the Grand Canyon to copper dug throughout southern Arizona. Locals, tribes and environmentalists are concerned about how these projects could wreak havoc on the state’s already depleted aquifers, which are the only source of water for many communities across Arizona. 

Worrying over water is nothing new in Arizona. Nearly 80 percent of the state lacks any groundwater protections, which has allowed large agricultural operations to move in and pump as much as they want without even keeping track of how much they suck from aquifers or paying a penny for it, leading residential wells in some areas to run dry. Water experts, local leaders and rural residents have pushed for years to change that, with the governor now also calling for action, but legislation to resolve the issue has proven divisive in the state legislature.

Mining operations can also pump as much as they want, even when aquifers are tapped out.

[oh-snapperss]

Medusa: The Much Needed Shift from Monster to Survivor in Percy Jackson (2023)

I am posting this on request of a couple folks! This is a part of a much bigger portfolio I submitted to my college mythology course, so if anything seems abrupt or short, that's why. Enjoy!

Reader discretion advised: the analysis below includes non-explicit discussion of sexual assault and rape.

From the beginning of the Percy Jackson series recently released on Disney+, it was clear that many changes were going to be made throughout the series both from the book series it derived from, and the myths Riordan first retold in his books. One of the most remarkable changes to the series can be found in episode three, and stood out with the dialogue below:

Percy: “So you’re not a monster, what are you then?”

Medusa: “A survivor.” (“We Visit the Garden Gnome Emporium” 23:22)

The decision to portray Medusa in this light is in stark contrast to any other adaptation involving her. Moments before this, Percy tells Grover and Annabeth that he thinks they can trust her, and that his mother had always told him Medusa’s story with the point “She isn’t what people think,” (21:52). This sets the stage for the following conversation, and the idea that Medusa in the myths may have been misunderstood as just another monster of Greek mythology.

In fact, Medusa’s physical appearance in the series is also markedly different from the original myth. Instead of being “monstrous” with wings, tusks of swine, and hair made of hissing snakes (“Medusa in Mythology”), the actress wears a veil over her hairand eyes, a nice dress, and has perfectly done makeup, with red lipstick. Her appearance brings empowerment to Medusa while also humanizing her, and a sense of fear or apprehension to the watcher. The answer to why these changes were made can be found in the relatability Medusa’s story has for today’s victims of rape and a patriarchal society that is unfair to women who have been assaulted.

Myths of Medusa describe her story without much pity: Either Poseidon rapes her in Athena’s temple or they willingly have sex; Athena, enraged, punishes Medusa by turning her into a monster. Poseidon goes unpunished, as he is a god (“Medusa in Mythology.") However, in current day climates, it is impossible not to draw similarities in Medusa’s story to the way victims are treated often in society. The assaulter goes unpunished, while the victim must live with the emotional, physical, and mental harm of such an attack. In fact, from my personal experience and things I have seen in the tattoo parlor I have gotten tattoos from, some victims have chosen to get tattoos of Medusa as a sign of being a survivor of such an assault. Thus, this brings back the director’s choice to portray Medusa differently in Percy Jackson than before.

Another notable difference in Medusa’s behavior is that she does not immediately attack Percy, Annabeth, and Grover (who would be considered the heroes of the story), instead offering them lunch and her perspective on what happened to her originally. By allowing Medusa the chance to speak her perspective on what happened to her, the directors of the show push for a world where women and victims are able to speak. With the show being watched by many younger teens and children, in addition to adults, an important message is carried to watchers, and her story is handled in a way that any victim watching can hear the message that they are not alone.

The director’s decision to show Medusa in this other light comes to a conclusion with Percy refusing the chance to betray his friends for her (28:03) a few minutes later, and from there the story aligns closer to the myth it derived from. The fight between the heroes and Medusa is not long, ending after Annabeth puts her hat of invisibility on Medusa, and Percy beheads her. Visually, this fight is markedly different to the myth—Medusa’s beheading is done with a hat of invisibility on, so there is no blood or gore shown (31:41). This change can easily be explained by the shows rating of TV-PG, combined with the fact that most likely, Disney would not have wanted such a gore filled scene on their platform.

Overall, the changes to Medusa’s story are headed in a positive direction much needed in the current climate of society, despite not staying exactly true to the source material.

Works Cited

“Medusa in Greek Mythology.” Greek Legends and Myths, https://www.greeklegendsandmyths.com/medusa.html. Accessed 20 March 2024.

“We Visit the Garden Gnome Emporium.” Percy Jackson and the Olympians, season 1, episode 3, Disney+, December 26, 2023. Disney, https://www.disneyplus.com/play/7a078c8a-2a03-4171-a647-a4f5ed12e738.

[caintooth]

i am so apathetic to liberal doomerism lol.

i remember being a child and seeing the whole body of a pig, butchered and opened at a barbecue roast for the first time. party-goers pulled the pork directly from a cavity carved into the corpse, onto their plates. and i, the illusion of where food comes from shattered, sobbed over my first realization that “oh god, i am an animal. i am an animal who has been eating animals.”

and we have always been animals to the liberals, but they have always viewed themselves as separate, and superior. do you understand? we have always been The Other to them, while they view themselves as the most truly Human. they are pretending now to have that same moment of realization which i did, that we are not so different after all, that we are all the same in actuality.

but they continue to benefit from our slaughter and our pain. and they never think twice about it, except to pretend, except to hold us up in photos like we are fragile squealing piglets and say, “Look! Look how much I care for this creature,” only to throw us back in the mud pit and scrub their hands clean. only to shove a fruit in our mouths, tell us to be thankful for the meal, and then serve our heads on platters. because continuing to separate themselves from us garners them benefits and praise. treating us as livestock gets them praise from the people who control this metaphorical farm (the farm being capitalism, and those in control being conservatives), and treating us as pets gets them praise from their peers (other liberals). treating us as Animals, overall, allows them to remain in secondary position of power, and thus to remain Human.

but we have always known that conservatives view the liberals as Animals, too. that liberals are in fact abused pets living as in-denial hostages in the laps of fascists. and we know conservatives view us as both Animals and some unspeakable third thing, as Monstrous…

when i saw that pig corpse in my youth, my emotional response was overwhelming sympathy. i sobbed for days and did not consume meat for a very long time. but i did not feel fear, at any point, that i may be barbecued like the pig– because i understood at even the most subconscious of levels, our society fundamentally views actual pigs and actual human beings as separate.

what i need you to understand, what i am trying to say here, is that liberals are not reacting to the current political climate with genuine sympathy. they are reacting with abject TERROR. because they know they treat us as Animals, but also know we are not actually separate. they know in their most subconscious minds that they have been undeniably cruel to us, and live in fear that someone may begin to treat them the same way. that they will lose their precious illusion of comfort and security in the laps of fascists.

and liberals are never going to admit this. the cognitive dissonance is too strong.

they are only going to become crueler to us. they are going to try and further separate themselves from the “true” degenerates. they are already publicly discussing trying to “save” the few of us they find most palatable, those of us willing to act like house pets alongside them. and all the while they will continue pushing the rest of us deeper into social Otherness, into the label of Monstrous.

because the ultimate goal of liberalism is NOT genuine change or liberation. their goal is maintenance of the status quo. maintenance of THEIR comfort and safety.

they have been resting calmly alongside the fascists for their entire lives, only occasionally lifting their heads to speak out against particularly unignorable injustices. but now that they’ve been thrown out back with the rest of us, they will do ANYTHING to get back to their previous position. this includes stepping over us, stepping on us, ignoring us, even intentionally harming us, to get us out of their way, and to avoid being associated with us…

for folks who would appreciate this communicated more literally:

while liberals do tend to be people who are marginalized in some way, or are friends/family of marginalized people, they are still typically white, cis, financially privileged, and/or able-bodied, etc. this intersectionality of experience means they can and do still benefit from many social privileges which also benefit far-right conservatives.

for this reason, many liberals do not actually want complete eradication of fascism, whether they admit this or not. they may claim they are trying to “fight back” or “resist”, but the truth is, their efforts only go so far, because they don’t want to lose what social, financial, and political privileges they do have. this resistance to change is the reason the USA has existed as it has for so long.

liberals do not actually want major change. they want to maintain the status quo which benefits them. for this reason, they view many people who are marginalized in different, more visible, or simply less “palatable” ways as a danger to their personal comfort. they may genuinely believe we are degenerates, too, or over time come to fear association with us for fear of being treated like us.

either way, liberals value their comfort more than they value our lives. where has the panic and despair been all this time? they are only experiencing it now because their positions as conservative lapdogs have come into danger…

and i feel no sympathy for dogs who howl only for themselves, when they did not cry for the rest of the pack.

[athena5898]

(Al-Akhbar English) Red Scare Reborn: US Anti-Communist Push and Global Consequences

Ali Awwad

Between 1917 and 1920, the United States grappled with intense fear stemming from the Russian Revolution, which ignited anxieties about the spread of communism and anarchism. This fear led to widespread repression against leftists, unionists, and immigrants, culminating in arrests, investigations, and a climate of suspicion. A similar wave of paranoia resurfaced in the 1950s during the Cold War, known as the “Second Red Scare.” Senator Joseph McCarthy spearheaded this period with his aggressive campaign against alleged communists, expanding the witch hunt beyond politicians to include intellectuals, artists, and civil rights leaders. These events were justified under the guise of national security but were ultimately aimed at enforcing ideological conformity and silencing progressive voices.

Now, with the election of Donald Trump as the 47th US President, echoes of this Cold War legacy resurface. Trump’s administration is pushing the “Decisive Education on Communism” bill (H.R. 5349), designed to implement an anti-communist curriculum in schools. While ostensibly focused on educating students about communism’s “crimes,” this bill mirrors past repressive efforts, using education as a tool for cultural censorship and ideological control. The bill, spearheaded by Representative Maria Salazar, has faced opposition to amendments that would include education on fascism and other oppressive ideologies, highlighting its partisan agenda.

This bill comes amid growing support for leftist movements among young Americans, particularly in solidarity with Palestinians. The rise of these movements has sparked anger from the American right, which is increasingly challenged by shifting public opinions on US foreign policy. Opinion polls reveal that younger generations are more critical of authority and increasingly open to socialist principles. This shift in political consciousness is seen as a direct threat to established power structures, prompting fears of a new “Red Scare” targeting left-wing movements.

Parallel to these developments, conservative think tanks like the Heritage Institute have launched initiatives such as the Esther Project, which seeks to criminalize political activism against Israel and label Palestinian solidarity as part of a broader anti-capitalist agenda. These efforts aim to dismantle these movements through legal and political means, employing tactics reminiscent of McCarthyism. Trump's supporters plan to expand this repression to education and media, purging institutions that oppose right-wing ideology, and even considering military intervention against protesters, as seen in the 2020 George Floyd protests.

While the bill's focus remains on combating communism, its broader aim is to prevent China from challenging US global hegemony. The "communist threat" narrative is being used to justify escalating tensions with China, through economic sanctions and military alliances in the Indo-Pacific. This strategy not only aims to curb China’s rise but also seeks to compel other nations to align politically with the US These actions could lead to a new global conflict, marked by competition for influence, resources, and technology. As tensions rise, nations will be pressured to take sides, increasing international polarization. However, in the midst of this global upheaval, there may also be opportunities for change, as history has often shown.

Full article in Arabic: https://al-akhbar.com/culture/816676