#I mean that was the lesson probably to keep the status quo since limited time event

[genshinchica]

As an autistic player, something I REALLY loved about Golden Apple 2022 was that Fischl’s lesson was not “you should stop pretending you’re a fictional character” and instead “you should embrace this thing that brings you joy and makes others cringe.” There’s something very genuine and loving about how the story was like “no this thing that others find weird is actually a part of yourself and who you are and you don’t have to compromise that for others and there are people who will love you for who you are and happily participate in it with you.”

I feel like it would have been really easy to have Fischl “grow up” and tell her the same thing people often tell autistic kids about their special interests or their behaviors, but instead they chose the surprisingly wholesome and nuanced take which I ❤️ and has left a special place in my heart. I’ve seen people be like “that was an unexpected lesson,” but I hope framing it this way may help people who felt that way about the ending reconsider it.

Fischl means a lot to a lot of trans and autistic players and not having her compromise who she is was really a good service for them!

[tarithenurse]

Nightingale - 24

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Hatake Kakashi &/x Fem!OC Contents: Bit of everything – fun, challenge, angst, feels, fluff, confusion, fear, violence. A/N: A long chapter for once o.O  As usual, ASK or REBLOG for tag!

Ch. 24

Kakashi's mind is pendulumming between serene quiet and something similar to a wasp nest. One that has been kicked. As someone who's used to logical thinking, he finds the status quo unsettling...but also strangely invigorating despite not carrying any direct risks as supposed to many of his past experiences. Perhaps, at least this once, something can dull the ache he has known for years? Looking at the monument with its sharp lines defining the stones – a design befitting the weight of loss and memories – guilt rears its ugly head.

"Surviving while others pass on can be a burden sometimes," the creaky voice of the Hokage interrupts, "but perhaps our very duty is to do more than just survive. It's to live...because they cannot."

"Hmm." I refuse to forget them even if I one day move on.

The silence between the two men is not enough to stop the rustle of the wind as it rushes between the leaves.

Four days have passed since Kakashi found out he was the warden of Uguisu and he has been doing his best to pay attention to both her and Team 7 and keep their focus on training – a task that's annoyingly easy with the former. Where the trio barely contain their curiosity, the woman has become withdrawn. A logical reaction, the jōnin reminds himself often, but one that leaves him awake most of the night with a head full of worries and nightmarish scenarios.

"She never got to mourn her loved ones, Kakashi. A lone survivor, stranded in the middle of a war-to-be. Our new comrade will need time before she can recognize friend from foe," the old man wisely ponders."

"Haï." I can't push her. Only wait and be ready.

...

Two out of three genin are paying attention to the exercises, refining their techniques to minimize waste of chakra. The last, however, is obviously ogling the fifth person in the clearing and as a result earning his sensei's disapproval.

It isn't the first time Uguisu joins when she's finished her lessons at the Academy. In the beginning, she would sneak closer in the cover of the forest and sit down in a partially obscured spot where she could observe from. To Kakashi, it had brought a sense of familiarity. From the kids, once they noticed her, the primary reaction would be insecurity and it had forced her out of hiding and eventually into training along side them even if her focus had been on other techniques.

The kunai zips past the fox boy’s face and slams into the trunk of the stump with a thud.

“Hey!”

But the boy’s complains fall on deaf ears. “Stay aware of your surroundings at all times...without losing focus of the task at hand, Naruto.”

A mix between a scoff and a laugh slips from Sasuke, causing his team mate to cringe.

In a way, it feels like Kakashi has been in charge of the four “students” for years because he has already figured out their strengths and is trying to find ways to amend their shortcomings. And as the session comes to an end, bringing about sweet free time for the kids, the sensei has made a decision concerning Uguisu’s training.

“Iruka tells me you’re a diligent student,” the jōnin admits as they watch the trio leave, “not much for him to do but fill in some voids and have you polish off the theory. That’s good.”

“Thank you, Kakashi-sensei.”

It’s strange how a title he’s heard before without blinking can morph and affect him all of a sudden. The heart beats a little bit faster. The air is a slightly stuffier under the mask. And something in his pelvis tightens enough to tell him he’ll have a different task at hand later.

“Yeah...well...” He pulls out a little bell from a pocket and ties it to one of his belt loops. “I’m maybe more critical.” She arches an eyebrow as an unspoken demand for an explanation. “Genjutsu. Ninjutsu. They’re not the problem...taijutsu is. It made sense for Orochimaru to teach you according to your role off the battlefield and so close combat really isn’t your forte, is it?”

Uguisu scowls. “I can defend myself.”

“I’ve seen. But can you attack?” Gut tightened, Kakashi hates himself for what he’s asking of this woman who has been through hell and finally is beginning the long way back.

Maybe to the untrained eye, the change in her stance wouldn’t be noticeable – it is to any shinobi worth their salt. A slight inwards rotation of the right foot, knees bending a smidgen, hands flexing before summoning the hardness needed to land proper blows. Show me what you’ve got.

Planted solidly, he easily dodges the first blows by bending and twisting, but then Uguisu buckles down to the task. Step. Jump. Parry. They are reflexes rather than active decisions. All too obviously, she prepares for a roundhouse kick which Kakashi can avoid by back flipping away.

“You’re wasting energy with the big movements. Keep it tight and clean -” the jōnin instructs and exemplifies -“to minimize your opponent’s chance to read your actions beforehand.”

Returning to a defensive role, he observes as she tries to implement the pointer. Precise...yes. Pushing a flurry of jabs aside, Kakashi steps around her with ease. And at least she’s quick to orient herself, he admits while scrambling backwards because the student has followed him.

“The perfection of your defence -” he leaps over the woman before continuing -”is what you have to bring into an assault.”

The thin line of her mouth is probably the result of biting back some snarky comment, and Kakashi smiles behind the mask. Fear can lead to fight, flight or freeze...but anger and frustration, on the other hand. So to taunt her, frustrate her, he presents the body language of a bored person and offhandedly blocks and dodges anything Uguisu throws at him.

“Umph!”

Although the strength behind is lacking, the kick still sends the man stumbling backwards, sucking in deep breaths of air to replace what was forced from his lungs. It carries the scent of damp earth, bark, and cotton.

“Ha!” Uguisu triumphs briefly.

“It’ll take more than that.”

A single sign is all it takes for a second Kakashi to appear next to the real one in a puff of white smoke.

“Cheater,” she smirks, seemingly unsurprised by the added figure.

You’re smiling now... Already, he hates himself for what he’ll be doing and the only comfort is the sparring that precedes. Throwing himself into the battle (and keeping the copy on the sidelines), the jōnin coaxes and coaches is student through the moves she has trained on the dummy targets day in and day out.

Slowly, her confidence grows. Not perfect, but better.

“Come at me like you mean it.”

She manages a wry smile. “Intent to kill?”

Yes. A glint of steel in the lowering sun is the only warning the warden has, but he doesn’t mind as long as they follow his plan (one of them without knowing). Kakashi chooses to cheer the woman on instead, finally having to defend himself in earnest although she isn’t on the top 20 of dangerous opponents.

As if in a dance, they circle and move with each other. Step, and leaps, and rolls create a pattern in the trampled grass while continuously bringing the sparring partners closer to the Shadow Clone. Now! The smoke bomb obscures the entire area and forces the combatants to separate until the cloud has blown away – somewhere, Uguisu is using the pause to regain her breath and calm the nerves while the jōnin applies the disguise he’s prepared.

The smoke slowly dissipates, revealing how Uguisu has backed off and prepared herself for anything – almost anything as it turns out when she lays eyes on the adversary and her face contorts in fear. Don't freeze. But how can she not when the mask and wig resembles Orochimaru?

"Take a moment to refocus. Calm down." At least the voice isn't that of her former tormentor. "Breathe."

A kunai shakingly reflects the low sun, knuckles are white from the tight grip on it even as the woman's immediate reaction morphs into bitter resolve.

Kakashi barely manages to dodge the trio of shuriken and is granted no respite as he finds himself under a powerful assault. Pent up hatred swirls and coalesces to drive the blue-haired fury forward – and he lets her for a while. Counting each unused opportunity, the jōnin keeps tracks of how many times he could have fatally wounded her for a while.

"Enough!" A kick to the midriff sends Uguisu tumbling backwards, landing on her butt. "If you want to beat him, you've got to keep your wits!"

She's panting and sweating from the fruitless efforts, but the pallor of fear still clings to her skin. "Haï."

Looks like she means it. Kakashi's own view is restricted more than normal, but he recognizes the way a fighter would evaluate their target: dark eyes are identifying the weak spots, the disadvantages of the opponent. He can see, she has formulated some sort of plan as she pushes to the feet.

"Cheap trick," the woman comments, "but I get your point, sensei."

This time, both of them give as good as they get and the disguised man tries to push every single button he can in an effort to test Uguisu's mind and skills. Hmm, he parries a kick, technique's lacking. Too often, the strikes aimed at him are deflected, resulting in a waste of energy and a gain in frustration. As he begins to outmatch her efforts, he can see the fear return along with the dangerous openings. Using one of those weaknesses, Kakashi strikes quick as a snake, his fingers brushing the delicate skin on her throat before she evades him.

Twice more, similar near-finishes happen.

Finally fed up and pushed to her limits, Uguisu charges. Ignoring any inkling of self-preservation, she attempts a feigned attack towards his right flank followed immediately by a punch which could have broken his nose if he hadn't moved in time. Guiding the woman's movement into a spin, the jōnin leans into her back, a hand on her shoulder to illustrate a potentially fatal situation.

"Never rush in mindlessly." His voice is muffled by the Orochimaru-mask.

Under his hand, Uguisu is tense and shivering, her breath superficial even if she tries to control it enough to say, "I might've left myself open, but at least it's a draw."

"Huh?"

A slight pressure to the inside of Kakashi's left thigh makes him look down between them to find a kunai resting against between the creases of his trousers at the groin. Femoral artery. A slight jangle catches his ear from their other side.

"You used your frustration to distract me and let you close enough," he comments with an unseen smile.

"Hm-m. Now let go and get rid of that hideous stuff!"

...

Uguisu is silent as they walk side by side back to Konoha. I might have gone too far. Still pale, lips reduced to a thin line, the woman appears to be swept away by thoughts, and her warden is loathe to leave her alone in her current state.

"How 'bout a bowl of victory ramen?" he offers quietly.

Nodding silently, a strand of blue hair disentangling itself so she has to push it behind the ear, the girl follows.

It's not until they're sitting with each their own bowl of steaming hot noodles that the usual healthy colour returns to her cheeks although she remains quiet.

...

Kakashi can't sleep.

Again and again, he replays the evening's test and categorizes everything he has learned throughout it. As suspected, close combat isn't the woman's forte although there's hope for further improvement. What worries him the most, however, is the emotional burden she carries. It'll become a lia-

A gentle tap on the windowpane disrupts his thoughts and he turns to see a familiar silhouette perched outside which he waves to welcome in. The jōnin wants to reach out to her when she has settled in the window sill, wants to take her hand and apologize for the hardships and the trauma lingering. Instead, he lies quietly with the hands behind the head and watches her squirm for a while.

"Can I sit on the bed?"

Even without the small, shaky voice, he would have agreed in an instant and scoots over. Uguisu waits until he's in place once more, then she comes to sit in silence.

One minute. I wouldn't have to stretch my arm to reach her hand.

Three minutes. When does her breathing calm?

Eight minutes. Is that...? A thin path down her cheek glitters in the moonlight breaking through the clouds randomly. Shit. This is my fault. A logic thought protests against the claim to blame but is immediately drowned.

"Ugui-"

"Please, don't talk," she interrupts.

He shuts up not just because she asks him but because she reaches out and grabs his hand, sending a bucketful of nerves into overloading as they race to relay the input. Warm. Soft, despite the expected patches of callouses that match his own. A slight tremor runs from her to Kakashi and only diminishes as he caresses her knuckles with a thumb.

"Is't..? Would..?" Her blush is unreasonable adorable when combined with the meek stammer.

Pushing the pillow sideways, Kakashi tries to contain a giddiness. "You don't have to ask, just make yourself comfortable."

"Carte blanche to do anything I want?"

"Well..." He contemplates the possible risks. "Yeah."

Uguisu insists that he keeps the pillow as she lies down on the side with an arm under her head instead. Knees tucked towards the chest and a hand still clasping his, she finally seems to find a sort of peace. I should apologize. But as he formulates and discards a variety of sentences, the woman's eyelids grow heavy and soon, she's sleeping. It's a light sleep, disturbed by dreams that furrow her brows and the slightest movement by Kakashi – when he tries to reach over and pull the covers around her, she's startled awake.

Through the night, the jōnin doses on and off, comfortable with the sound of the second heartbeat travelling through the mattress and into his ear. Finally calm.

...

Maybe it's the cold, emptiness of his hand that wakes Kakashi...at least it's the first thing he registers, quickly followed by the awareness that the mattress is only giving in to the pressure of his own weight. When he opens the eye, the weak dawn is battling against clouds and the mind of the jōnin takes time to theorize that they grey layer won't recede during the day. Something else adds to the shadows still filling the room: Uguisu is standing by the window.

"Mrug'shu?" At least the curses are clearly articulated in Kakashi's mind.

A sad smile tugs at the woman's cheek, softened by the light. "Go back to sleep, 'Kashi...and...thank you."

"Always."

The window swooshes as it slides back and forth in the rail, cutting off the connection between the two of them. Whyyyyy? Rubbing his face hard and scratching the white hair until his scalp tingles, he's left with no answers and only the scent of cotton that lingers in the sheets next to him. That's it...the unbeatable Copy-Ninja has been defeated. I'm done for! If anyone was watching him, though, they'd see the mask pulled askew by a goofy smile.

[chubbyooo]

Blurred Lines: Cursed Past Chapter 73 - Unclear Motivation

hey all back with another one hope you’re all doing well

Malora joins the crew of the fury and tensions are high

When they arrived at the ship Andronikos was waiting for them looking a little skittish “um is that?-” well this was gonna be a hard sell but Kyradia already knew that

Kyradia answered “Darth Malora yeah she’s gonna help us find Zash” Andronikos sighed rubbing his forehead

Andronikos responded “you know this is somehow worse than one of those lizards” he turned to Ashara “and you’re cool with this?” Ashara shrugged looking between them

She smiled “I mean what’s one more sith gonna do her intentions seem clear and she knows where Zash went so I mean sure” Kyradia had a feeling that Ashara was only about 20% cofident in that statement

Malora gave a coy smile “I promise I won’t cause any trouble” she looked away “as long as my experiments don’t go wrong” oh that sounded just fantastic

Andronikos sighed “alright fine but this better not end up like the Wrath incident” Kyradia and Ashara both shuddered remembering when they let the wrath onto the Fury

Kyradia cocked her head “to be fair I didn’t exactly want her on the ship” Andronikos seemed to consider that “come on let’s go plot the ships course” they made their way onto the ship leaving Ashara and Malora outside

Ashara cocked her head at Malora “what” Malora said sternly 

Ashara stared at her for a second longer “just trying to get a read on you, need to know whether I need to keep an eye on you” Malora frowned at her squaring up to Ashara, Malora was significantly taller than Ashara but her montrals were about at her eye level.

She folded her arms “is that a threat” Ashara kept smiling not intimidated by Malora

She shrugged “quite the opposite actually I’m wondering if I need to keep an eye on the sith seen as many tend to be quite fragile” Malora’s face curled into a scowl

Malora exhaled “Well I can assure you I’m not within that category” Ashara gave a sarcastic nod as Malora stormed onto the ship, as she did Ashara noticed a little chip on the back of her neck causing her to frown.

Kyradia had just finished plotting the course to Savareen when Ashara walked into the room, Savareen was pretty close to Kowak so they may actually be able to catch up to Zash. She turned to Ashara “how’s our new guest settling in? Ashara sat down and shrugged. 

She looked away “just about as well as you could expect, she’s talking to Xalek now, I assured him Malora wasn’t a new apprentice apart from that they seem to be getting on fine” Kyradia considered that a victory even having Malora here may prove difficult knowing how sith could be

Kyradia nodded “well could be worse I suppose” she paused looking away “just keep an eye on her Ashara you know how sith can be, you’re pretty good at controlling their impulses” Ashara nodded giving a ‘gotcha’ gesture

Andronikos swiveled around “and make sure any of her ‘experiments’ do not damage my ship I swear if she breaks something” Ashara nodded with a smirk Andronikos had always been particular about his ship

Kyradia held her chin pensively “just make sure she stays out of trouble, she did volunteer to help us though so she probably does want to help” she chuckled “but after helping I’d be wary she’s a wily one” Ashara and Andronikos nodded they were pretty used to dealing with sith betraying other sith what with Zash, Thanaton, the Wrath and half of Kyradia’s apprentices.

Ashara cocked her head at Kyradia “so you've known her since the academy, longer than any of us? Malora said you helped each other with favours” Kyradia nodded it wasn’t something she thought about much but at the time they had an arrangement

Kyradia looked away “she was right in saying that we weren’t exactly friends but when you’re at the low levels in the sith academy you need allies especially if you’re well like me” Kyradia gestured to her horns “or in Malora’s case a bit weaker in the force, she had a brilliant mind and was an amazing scientist but her control of the force is pretty limited. Harkun hated us both for our ‘unconventional methods’ so to get ahead and beat those stupid trials we used each others strengths to get beat all those ‘gifted people’.” Kyradia guessed they were kinda friends but they were both so sith during that point Kyradia had fully planned to stab her in the back and she was positive Malora probably had planned the exact same.

Ashara frowned “so what happened between you two?” Kyradia thought about it for a second

Kyradia sighed “honestly nothing Zash took a shining to me which I now know is for all the wrong reasons, but she took me into private training and off Korriban soon after that so I just stopped seeing her” she chuckled “her old master was such an idiot we managed to get him completely removed from the academy, I think we had a plan to get her an important master but… I dunno it was 8 years ago” Now she thought about it Kyradia had never paid Malora back for her last favour.

Ashara nodded “I’m surprised you never mentioned her before” Kyradia felt bad for the reasoning but it was who she was

Kyradia gritted her teeth “honestly at the time I didn’t think of it as anything important so I never mentioned it” Ashara frowned a bit probably remembering how Kyradia used to be “we can only hope she doesn’t have a grudge” they all nodded

Andronikos yawned “alright well we’re gonna be in hyperspace for a while so I’m gonna go take a nap” he gestured for Kyradia to follow him and they left Ashara there pondering the new crewmate

It was later now and Ashara had been playing her Fizzz to pass the time but she was interrupted by a loud crashing sound as if some pots and pans fell off table, she wandered around the ship until she found Malora in the engine room with what seemed like a makeshift lab

She frowned “uhhhhh what are you doing” Malora turned around a little surprised her posture quickly changed as she frowned folding her arms

She scoffed “if you must know I’m setting up a makeshift lab” Ashara frowned looking from her to the engine

She looked back at her “ummm in the engine room? With the very volatile expensive engine?” Malora’s eyes widened a little the pieces connecting in her head

She shook her head “well yes but do you have a better idea” Ashara nodded pointing towards the room she was just in

Ashara smiled “you could use the conference room, we hardly ever use it except for when I’m practicing my Fizzz” she gestured to the instrument in her hands

Malora nodded “ah yes well I thought that was a broom closet, I’m still not familiar with this place” she started to gather up her science equipment

Ashara looked around “uh do you need some help? I can car-” Malora cut her off before she could finish

She shook her head “no I’m fine, I got it in here didn’t I?” Ashara nodded awkwardly as she stood there watching Malora pick up her beakers and other implements she didn’t recognise

Ashara tried to make conversation “um so Kyradia told me about how you guys helped each other in the academy, sounds like you had the odds stacked against you” Malora was half listening as she continued cleaning up

Malora responded “yes well you try introducing science to a bunch of old men wielding ‘unlimited power’, anything that challenges the status quo was shot down” she scoffed “like a zabrak or a scientist for example” Malora had cleared up all the equipment now and begun to move it to the conference room

Ashara followed “well I mean you became a dark council member so guess you proved them wrong” Malora shook her head her scowl accentuated by her cracked face

She put down her equipment on the conference table “yes, 8 years it took me to slowly rise through the ranks so that for one month I felt like I’d proved myself before that bald zombie threw me off the landing station. No matter how far I rose there was always someone stronger in the force than me to put me back in my place even after I did this” she gestured to her face

She was only half listening to Ashara while she spoke, setting up her lab “you mean you did that to yourself?” Malora finished setting up the lab and turned to Ashara with a scowl

She frowned “yes, but why do you care anyway” she rubbed the back of her neck “is it important to you to know how I failed, here’s the lesson for you no matter how much you try or sacrifice there’s always someone who it comes naturally to and eventually they will always win” Ashara shrunk down she hadn’t meant to anger her 

Ashara mumbled “I’m uh sorry I just was curious since you’re going to helping us” Malora scowled at her for a few more seconds before she just sighed

Malora looked away “whatever jedi you don’t need to know anything more than I want to help believe me it’s not worth you knowing” Ashara frowned 

Ashara put her hands on her hips “well I just want to make sure you’re not hiding anything like that chip I saw on your neck” Malora’s eyes widened the scowl returning to her face

Malora held the chip on her neck “this chip isn’t anything sinister I promise you that it’s just something I designed to help me cope” Ashara frowned not believing her “It’s none of your business anyway I don’t have to tell you anything” she stormed past Ashara opening the door and gesturing for her to leave

Ashara folded her arms “fine don’t tell me but I can’t trust you until you do” Malora scowled at Ashara 

She stood over Ashara again “fine by me jedi I don’t need your trust” Ashara exited the room in a huff leaving Malora alone, she made her way to her bedroom and took a deep breath. Looks like keeping an eye on her was going to be a little tricky...

[tessatechaitea]

Teen Titans Spotlight #11: The Brotherhood of Evil

Judging by the last few issues starring Robotman, Beast Boy, Mento, and the Brotherhood of Evil, this series could have been Doom Patrol Spotlight On:.

Warp might be the most intelligent super villain in the DC Universe!

Actually I'm not quite done not talking about The Brotherhood of Evil! I don't mean to suggest that the people who fled one kind of oppression weren't the best and kindest people in the world! The only reason I said all the awesome people wound up in California is because I'm from California and my family is pretty awesome. Don't worry! I can see all of the erasure in the above statement! It's just sometimes, you're speaking about a thing and you can't get bogged down by small details like Native American genocide or blatant anti-Chinese laws enacted in San Francisco (pretty much the coolest place in the U.S. (at least before the tech boom fucking turned it into a capitalist fascist run by tech start-ups and the angels who finance them)). The main point was that some people become comfortable with a status quo that oppresses others. And instead of fighting it, people flee from it. The people who flee often do so because they have their own status quo they want to enact and it's rarely one that provides opportunity for everybody. At least in the modern view, I tend to think (and hope it's more than hope and fantasy and wishful thinking) that those fleeing small town bigotries into big cities are actually more compassionate toward the entirety of humanity. We still make lots of mistakes but the key point is that we're trying to do better. When people discuss locking up immigrants at the border, you can either fight against the injustice and racism inherent in the entire process or simply shrug your shoulders like a douchebag and try to sound super smart by saying, "Well, they should have thought about that before they came here!" As if everybody in the world has access to media that somehow preempts the two hundred years of American propaganda that we're willing to accept the hungry and the tired and those yearning to breathe free. I grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area in the 70s and the reality of the world that existed around me at the time was fucking Star Trek: The Next Generation compared to what's going on in 2019. We had station ID breaks on KTVU Channel 2 out of San Francisco that would show a kid running around and playing and introducing the viewer into their world that would end with the kid saying, "I'm proud to be a Chinese American!", or "I'm proud to be a black American!" It's the kind of thing that would get so many people in a huff now and yet it was a simple and effective means to introduce younger viewers to the heterogeneity of their community. And now, in 2019, we have Comicsgate who can't stand to be reminded that people other than white people can be protagonists. It boggles my mind that people can get so upset over shit that won't make a millimeter wave on the cultural yacht they were born on. Fucking grow up, assholes. Not everything is about you. I think I was going to say more things about erasure! I don't mean to make light of it since it's absolutely a strategy used to disenfranchise groups or exclude them from social movements. But it's your go-to argument against everything you read, you're not going to make many friends. Lots of essays or articles or arguments need to be specific and they can't include every situation or group in the specific argument being made. Maybe it's tough to accept laser focused arguments on the Internet when the audience is harder to gauge. I know peanut allergies exist and they're deadly but I still stick the knife I just used for peanut butter in the preserves. Not because I don't give a fuck but because I know the audience using my apricot preserves. But if I were to mention this on the Internet, everybody who knows nothing about the context of my preserves and my audience and my entire existence would jump all over me saying things like, "That's really irresponsible!" and "You're going to kill somebody!" and "Apricot? You fucking monster!" I usually hate analogies but sometimes they're fun. The general problem with analogies is that people don't use them to help clarify arguments; they use them to try to simplify their argument into something nobody can disagree with. But by that time, the relationship between the actual argument and the analogy is tenuous at best! But I think my peanut butter allergy analogy is pretty rock solid! Hey! You know who's diverse?! The Brotherhood of Evil! They have a French gorilla and a British woman and a bald white guy (also French but what can you do? This team was all up in France and shit) and a brain in a jar. Hopefully Brain was African or Chinese or Pakistani. Maybe he was also autistic. He's enough of a cypher to allow any reader to identify with him, I guess. He's definitely gay! Unless he's into bestiality. One of those reasons is why he winds up fucking the French gorilla. Hmm, maybe not making it clear what Brain's intent was was a mistake by DC because doesn't that just amplify anti-gay sentiment by associating it actual deviant behaviors? If DC did make it clear and I'm the one who's obfuscating the matter, I should probably shut up. The Brain and Mallah are definitely gay for each other's human dicks. The fact that Mallah's dick is gorilla and Brain's dick is non-existent shouldn't hamper their love. The Brotherhood of Evil are being set up by some guy named Toulon. There was a lot of narration boxes that explained it but I was too busy thinking, "How is Brain going to suck Mallah's cock?" So all I know is that Toulon managed to fuck up Warp's powers and he teleported the Brotherhood to a strange world.

Hmm, looks like Earth-11 to me!

I know this takes place after Crisis on Infinite Earths and Earth-11 shouldn't exist but it does! Maybe this story takes place before Crisis? Maybe when the story reveals they're on Earth-11, the editor will provide a note, "*This story takes place before Crisis on Infinite Earths! -- Know-it-all Knobby!" Mallah introduces himself to Tin, the leader of the good guys, I guess?, by saying, "We're the Brotherhood!" I suppose I'd shorten the name of my organization when I met new people too if it were called The Brotherhood of Evil. Unless the new guy I was introducing myself to was like Kim Jong-un or Donald Trump or Mark Zuckerberg. I'm so tuned in to world events that I first typed "Mark Zupperberg" and couldn't figure out why it looked wrong.

Welcome to my new preschool, Tiny Tots Fucktown.

You might want to be upset with me for sexualizing young children but I'm not the fucking monster who made that advertisement. Ad Exec #1: "What if we show a guy building the model with a bunch of hot women getting wet over how well he's done it?" Ad Exec #2 Who is in Prison Now: "What if they were little kids?!" Was Earth-11 the one where DC put Tin Tin after they bought the rights? I mean, I don't know if they ever bought the rights but this guy is definitely Tintin, right?

He also rides a big white dog that he has yet to call Snowy but it's only a matter of panels.

Trapped on a world about to be destroyed (in a worse way than Tintin and his cohorts know! Crisis is coming! Or came? No, no! I sometimes forget comic books can tell tales from the past! Although weren't writers supposed to completely ignore the Pre-Crisis universe once Crisis on Infinite Earths completed? Or why even fucking bother?!), The Brotherhood of Evil decide to help Tintin and his rebels take back control from some guy called Minos. But they're only doing it for their own selfish ends. You might remember how their name has "evil" tacked onto the end.

You might have thought "cutting them down like grass" was the correct phrase and "mowing them down like paper mache" is stupid but this is Earth-11, dumb dumb.

Paper mache is how you spelled "papier-mâché" before you had the Internet. There might some other difference in this comic book due to the place in time it was written:

Fuck. Now I'm horny.

The Brotherhood help Tintin and his friends steal a space ark from their enemies so that Tintin and his friends can survive the destruction of Earth-11. Never mind what happens to the people of Earth who weren't offered the opportunity to become one of Tintin's group. In payment for their help, The Brotherhood of Evil are helped back to their own Earth where they can continue to be weird and impotent. The conclusion of the story has something to do with Doctor Mist and the Global Guardians helping make the universe a better place by saving Tintin (somehow! I mean, Crisis, right?! What the fuck?), getting some guy named Toulon killed (he's only "some guy" to me because sometimes these espionage plots are just too convoluted with too many normal characters I don't care about), and getting the Brotherhood of Evil killed. They fail in getting the Brotherhood killed but seem content with their other machinations. Plus, I'm sure Doctor Mist was happy to get a small role in this comic book to pay for his bowel cancer treatments. Teen Titans Spotlight #11: The Brotherhood of Evil Rating: B-. You know I don't put any thought into the grades I give these comic books, right? You know this isn't really a review site and just a way for me to enjoy my time reading comic books while journaling, right? You know my nemesis is still the Weird Science comics blog, right? What a bunch of squares!

[lalcne-blog]

index: saber vanille

spring. clear skies. gold. high fashion suits. stress headaches. kissed hands. lost opportunities. the world on someone’s shoulders. strawberries. red roses without thorns. midday naps.

          HE LEARNS FROM a young age that what he wants, he gets. the staff of the seelie court trip over themselves to cater to his every need, and while he would never treat these wonderful people as anything less than his friends, it is clear to everyone aside from himself that he takes advantage of their positions.

          he learns from a young age that, for the most part, what he wants, he gets.

          it’s a dangerous lesson for such a young child to learn, but he uses it for the most trivial of reasons. he never asks for anything dangerous. all he asks for is some snacks, for a bath to be run, for someone to play with because his parents are busy.

          he’s told that he ❝ is a joy to serve ❞, and it is a compliment he takes in stride for the rest of his life.

          the only people he can’t bend to his whims are his parents, who are kind but firm in the way they rule both their people and their children. this only causes trivial arguments that last barely a minute until he’s old enough to attend school, and that is when the first real disagreement strikes.

          ❝ what do you mean i can’t go to school with everyone else ?? ❞ saber asks, turning his head towards the window where the other children are playing outside. he doesn’t know most of them. he’s only really spoken to the noble fae.

          ❝ you’ll still receive the proper education you would at school, plus the extra information you’ll need to learn to be a proper crown prince. it’s more convenient to teach you that way, ❞ his mother tells him, as though a five year old would be more worried about his education than how much he can play.

          he whines, stamping his feet, and his mother frowns as he says, ❝ but i wanna go to school !! mama, i wanna !! i wanna !! ❞

          ❝ no, saber, and that’s final, ❞ his mother says in that tone of hers that is both gentle and final simultaneously.

          he continues to whine as she leaves the room despite knowing it won’t work.

          he doesn’t go to school. he isn’t cut-off from the outside world by any means, able to play with the other children as he pleases, but the distance between them is growing now that they’re not attending the same school. his lessons become more demanding as he grows older and he spends less and less time with those outside of the royal home until they are simply friendly acquaintances.

          the older he becomes, the more handsome he becomes, and the more off-limits he becomes. nobody approaches him if he strolls around the market place. all they do is stare and bow and say nothing more than a greeting, and that is only if he greets them first.

          it’s lonely at first, and it remains lonely for quite some time, until he decides to take it in his stride just as he has with everything else and changes things for his own benefit. he realises that to make a difference, he must make the effort himself.

          rather than staying silent on his outings, he walks up to people, greets them, kisses their hand, asks them how they’re doing, what they’re doing, why they’re doing it. these are his people. he knows that he will always be on a pedestal and that people will always flush around him and avoid eye contact out of embarrassment and amazement ( and he will admit, it does make him feel pretty fantastic that he has this effect on people ), but he can do his damn hardest to ensure that the gap between them is as small as possible.

          he tells himself that he doesn’t need to attend school, that he isn’t lonely, that this is good for him, but there are times where his resolve falters.

          ❝ valentine will be attending lucille academy, starting at the end of this month. ❞

          like now.

          he whirls around, his wings almost knocking down the assortment of hair products on his vanity, and stares at his mother with wide eyes. while he can no longer see his own reflection, he knows the betrayal is written all over his face.

          ❝ valentine gets to go ?? ❞ his voice takes on a childish tone that only his mother ever hears nowadays, and even then it’s rare. she doesn’t seem surprised. perhaps she knew exactly how he would react.

          ❝ valentine isn’t the crown princess. she isn’t able to inherit the crown, but she does have the freedom to choose where she studies. both of your roles come with pros and cons, saber. ❞

          feeling as if he’s eaten several lemons at once, saber bites back the retort burning in the back of his throat and returns to fixing his hair.

          ❝ of course, mother. you’re right. ❞

          his words ring hollow in his ears.

          strategy meetings have been on his agenda since the tender age of eighteen, almost like a coming of age ceremony. he doesn’t find them particularly interesting, especially as there is nothing to strategize against, but he keeps his opinion to himself. he’s learned that, at least for now, his job is to sit with his back straight and listen to every detail, a vault of military information.

          he only attempts to change that status quo once.

          ❝ and that concludes the meeting, ❞ his father says, nodding to the minutes man, who starts closing their record book.

          ❝ actually, ❞ saber begins, gaining the attention of everyone at the small, round table, ❝ i have something i would like to bring up first. ❞

          his parents look at each other in surprise, but not anger, which he takes as a good sign. the captain of their forces ( who he’s sure don’t do much at all, as threats have been few and far between since before he was born ) and his second in command emote less, but they turn to him with what he assumes is interest. the minute man opens the record book once again.

          ❝ alright, saber, ❞ his mother says with a nod and the briefest of smiles. ❝ go ahead. ❞

          ❝ it’s more of a question, ❞ he starts, and he directs his attention to his parents as he speaks. while the captain and his troops are formidable ( probably, he wouldn’t know ), all decisions come down to his parents. everyone knows that.

          ❝ i’m wondering about the war that’s been waging between the unseelie court and the elves. it’s been going on for years, and i’ve kept quiet about it so far, but why does no one in this room ever bring it up at meetings ?? ❞

          he doesn’t miss the way his parents’ eyes flicker towards each other. they’ve always been good at silent communication, especially when one or both of their children are in the room. he thinks they perfected it long before he was born.

          it’s his mother who responds with, ❝ the seelie and unseelie courts have an agreement, saber, you know that. we have a treaty that we remain neutral with each other. we do not harm them and they do not harm us. ❞

          ❝ i don’t want to harm them, ❞ saber says, and perhaps he’s jumping in too quickly to defend himself, but he can’t stand any implication that he would ever want to hurt anyone. that isn’t the type of ruler he wants to be. ❝ innocent elven lives are being taken, does that mean nothing to you ?? ❞

          ❝ saber, do not talk to your mother like that, ❞ his father warns, but all it does is serve as a reminder that he isn’t an heir in this situation. he’s still just a child arguing with his parents. ❝ the treaty states that the unseelie affairs are their own, just as our affairs are our own. we’ve maintained this relationship with them for an incredibly long time. we can’t risk it. ❞

          or they might turn on us, instead. saber hears it, even if it’s never spoken.

          ❝ you didn’t answer my question, ❞ he continues, as if he wasn’t just scolded. ❝ what about the elves ?? their lives are at stake. ❞

          ❝ that isn’t our call to make, ❞ his mother says, voice strained. she’s losing her patience. ❝ the unseelie court may be the only kingdom we have a binding contract with, but the sentiment remains the same across every kingdom: we mind our business, they mind theirs. ❞

          the tone of finality sink into saber’s brain, which is just as well, as he’s quickly realising that he isn’t about to win this one. perhaps he knew that all along. perhaps all he wanted was to imprint the issue in his parents’ minds, and if so, seeing the fruits of his efforts will take time. but he doesn’t really know anything, does he ??

          he stands, his back just as straight as it was when sitting, and says, ❝ then i suppose this meeting is adjourned. ❞

          with a quick bow to the three silent spectators -- not that he blames them, because it isn’t their place to disagree with the king and queen -- he leaves the room without looking back.

          when he’s left to his own devices, saber doesn’t know what to do with himself. his schedule is so demanding that hobbies are hard to come by, and even then, they seem to link back to his teachings.

          one might say that being the crown prince is all he knows how to be.

          with all of the interesting books in the royal library having been read once, twice, thrice over, he instead turns to the news archives to occupy his time. they span over years, the oldest from hundreds of years before his birth, and they aren’t solely from the seelie court, either. he can find headlines from every kingdom in existence, and he finds many of them more intriguing than those from home.

          but many of those headlines speak of terror and danger and all that is wrong with the world.

          ❛ WIZARD STUDENT BECOMES LATEST VICTIM OF DARK TIRADE ❜

          ❛ NORTHERN TERRITORY ELVES AMBUSHED, 53 DEAD ❜

          ❛ FAMILY MANSION ON FIRE, SEARCH FOR REMAINS UNDERWAY ❜

          these are things he wasn’t taught. these are the unsung heroes and victims of a world that is becoming increasingly unforgiving. his court is only a small sliver of what is out there in the big, wide world, and he’ll be damned if he isn’t going to learn every inch of it and beyond.

          a dull ache between his eyes pulls him from his thoughts and he massages the bridge of his nose.

          he supposes he’ll need to learn to save himself first.

[junker-town]

Chair shots to the head in wrestling are an unnecessary risk with permanent consequences

Tyson Whiting

AEW’s mission is to support its wrestlers. Allowing unprotected chair shots flies in the face of that.

Everyone knew something had gone wrong the moment Cody Rhodes crumpled to the mat. Even more so when they saw the blood.

The 34-year-old All Elite Wrestling (AEW) star was exhausted, having just battled underdog Darby Allin to a time-limit draw during AEW’s Fyter Fest when fellow wrestler Shawn Spears suddenly climbed in the ring, metal chair in hand.

Rhodes had less than a second to react as Spears swung for the fences. The steel made a sickening thud against his skull, busting open the back of his head and knocking him to the mat. Though he managed to walk away without a concussion, the injury left him with 12 staples in his head and served as a sobering reminder of why chair shots, planned or not, are an unnecessary risk in a sport where head injuries are all too common.

AEW has been disrupting professional wrestling since its inception by mixing old-school concepts with new-school sensibilities, but Rhodes’ injury and the questions surrounding it went beyond anything the company had planned for. Owner Tony Khan acted quickly following the Fyter Fest chair shot to address safety concerns, addressing it internally before speaking to the press. “You could build the safest airplane in the world, and if there’s pilot error, there’s pilot error,” Khan said in a press conference. “That was not good.”

Khan didn’t expand on whether the promotion would continue allowing chair shots or other dangerous maneuvers, but a source with firsthand knowledge of the situation tells SB Nation that AEW will not use unprotected chair shots moving forward.

“I understand there were discussions about trying to do it safely without causing brain trauma, but I think the lesson from this is that there’s always a chance for human error,” says Chris Nowinski, a former WWE wrestler and co-founder of the Concussion Legacy Foundation. “You have to look at the risk-reward for a chair shot to the head.”

Nowinski retired from wrestling in 2003 with post-concussion syndrome, which eventually led him to develop the foundation with neurosurgeon Dr. Robert Cantu. Nowinski advises athletes on the risks of chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE) and holds seminars for current WWE superstars on the importance of being safe in the ring.

“My life is now focused on protecting brains and trying to fix ones that have already been damaged,” Nowinski says.

He can’t point to a specific moment that ended his wrestling career but remembers when he decided enough was enough after a series of undiagnosed concussions took a significant toll on his body and mind. One night, while still asleep, Nowinski stood on his bed and jumped off, crashing through a nightstand. He later learned it was a sign of REM behavior disorder, which typically comes with traumatic brain injury.

“That’s what it took to scare me straight and actually be honest about how I felt,” he says. “All this work with Concussion Legacy Foundation started because I wish I’d had known that I should have rested my concussion each time I got one. And I’d probably still be working.”

Rooted in the rise of Texas death match wrestling in the 1950s, chair shots were popular in matches that also utilized tables, barbed wire and trash cans as weapons. Matches typically took place in high school gymnasiums or makeshift arenas, venues that made it believable for a wrestler to take a chair from a fan and using it as a weapon.

Wrestlers continued to use chairs in the ring for decades, almost exclusively as foreign objects or to batter an opponent by striking them across the flat of the back. It wasn’t until the late 1990s that chair shots changed with the rise of Extreme Championship Wrestling (ECW) and WWE’s “Attitude Era,” which sought to pull the sport from its spandex-clad cast of cartoon characters and make it more visceral. This increased the risk, danger and violence of the product in a battle of one-upmanship to win over an audience with unquenchable blood lust. The chair shot was swept up in this movement, re-imagined as blows to the head — often unprotected.

This was the status quo until 2007 when WWE superstar Chris Benoit murdered his family before killing himself in their Atlanta home. People searched for explanations in the wake of the tragedy, as Benoit’s close friends insisted the heinous crime seemed out of character. A postmortem study showed that the 40-year-old had the brain of an 85-year-old Alzheimer’s patient. To this day, Benoit’s father claims his actions were the result of brain injuries his son sustained while wrestling. One of the most-used clips of Benoit adopted by the 24-hour news cycle as his story unfolded was of him being hit in the head with a chair.

This was around the same time the sporting world was learning about CTE. Studied since the 1920s, it wasn’t until 2005 when Dr. Bennet Omalu published his landmark study, “Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy in a National Football League Player,” that people started paying closer attention to the damaging long-term effects of head injuries in sports. In the wake of Benoit’s death, WWE mandated that its talent would never take an unprotected chair shot again, meaning wrestlers on the receiving end would have to cushion the blow with their hands. This was expanded in 2010 to exclude all chair shots to the head, period, at a time when the NFL was under scrutiny over concussion protocol. It was part of a company-wide shift to “talent wellness” — a paradigm shift for the sport, but one that was widely embraced by fans.

But the mixed social media reaction following the Fyter Fest chair shot suggests not all fans want wrestling to evolve. Many seemed to relish a return to the hardcore violence which has been absent from mainstream wrestling for years while others insisted the past should be left in the past.

“It’s simple. If you want to see that kind of violence, then watch boxing or MMA,” Nowinski says. “If you want to see some of the best performers on the planet live for decades then you should support them performing safely. You should respect them enough to let them perform safely.”

Part of the negative reaction towards AEW allowing chair shots stems from how it contrasts with the company’s implied mission. One of the biggest differentiators between AEW and WWE is how wrestlers are treated. For decades, WWE owner Vince McMahon has had his wrestlers operate as independent contractors. The problem with that is being responsible for their own healthcare has incentivized performers to hide injuries or ignore warning signs for fear of having their contract terminated. Former WWE superstar CM Punk explained in 2014 how he felt he would be “punished” by the company if he took time off to recover from a concussion.

AEW, on the other hand, said from the start that wrestlers would be full-time employees with benefits. It was an unheard-of approach in an industry that too often leaves talent in the cold when their spotlight dims. That’s what made the Fyter Fest chair shot feel so out of place. It’s impossible to reconcile the concept that performers should have secure futures while putting them at higher risk for permanent brain damage through the demands of the job.

Chair shots aren’t the only source of concussions in wrestling — far from it — but they are the most easily altered move in the industry that can be phased out with relative ease. With AEW pushing the envelope on violence, there’s pressure for WWE to raise the stakes in response. However, the company maintains its position outlawing “deliberate and direct shots to the head.” On top of that, WWE began mandatory ImPACT concussion testing in 2008, subjecting performers to yearly baseline testing of brain function, memory, processing speed and reaction time. Referees are trained to identify injuries that occur during a match (including concussions) and are given the power to stop a match to ensure no further injury occurs.

The issue of unprotected chair shots and the risk of CTE in wrestling isn’t just a WWE or AEW problem — it’s an industry problem. Away from the grand storylines and athletic feats lies a grassroots concern as wrestlers young and old across America are risking their lives to be noticed or remain famous. When a crowd is invested in a performer, they can build the kind of cult following needed to get booked in larger shows, and eventually, if they’re lucky enough, into a major promotion. The issue is that many young wrestlers see a need to risk their bodies and their futures by taking risks to get noticed.

Nowinski’s advice for young wrestlers turning to dangerous maneuvers for attention is to keep in mind that the fans who like violent wrestling aren’t the majority.

“If your goal is to make it to WWE ... show them you can wrestle the way they expect you to wrestle in WWE,” he says. “The reality is that if you take too many risks there’s a good chance you’ll flame out before you get where you’re trying to go.”

The world of professional wrestling is a fractured series of minor promotions and independent booking scenes feeding into the WWE monolith. As AEW attempts to compete for the same audience, there is an imperative for both organizations to band together and denounce chair shots to the head and other risky maneuvers that can directly be traced to future cases of CTE.

The same night Cody Rhodes took the unprotected chair shot, Jon Moxley and Joey Janela wrestled an unsanctioned hardcore match using barbed wire, thumbtacks, tables and ladders. By the end, both performers were a bloody mess — and yet it was still safer than being hit in the head with a chair. There’s room for violence in wrestling. There’s room to tell a story. There is no longer room for performers to shorten their lives for the sake of applause.

[totallyinedible]

Blue?

Blue is not the color I associate with, yet I got the blues. I don't know who decided that blue is the color of feeling down, but I'm supposed to take it because it is common knowledge. I don't have any color association with with certain feelings. Every set of hues is a more accurate demonstration of my associations. Neon colors are energizing and cheerful. Basic colors are lazy and cozy. Metallic colors are exciting and ever-surprising. What I feel right now is the desaturated set; like something is not quite right. Desaturated colors are associated with the old, the outdated, and the digital vintage - and to a certain extent, I feel as such.

For the past couple of days, the topic of marriage has opened multiple times. It started with Yazan, and then Mohammad, then Faisal, and once more back to Yazan. Marriage is not something that I had in mind anytime soon. After all, I've always been against the status quo of marriage processes in my society. Most examples I had in my life are of young men asking their mothers to find them a girl to marry, because "it's time to get married". For those who don't understand the culture, it's also "time to have sex without being frowned upon". They do not get married to someone they want to spend their lives with. They want to get married because the idea of marriage to them is limited to starting a family, wanting a son to carry their name, or just to get their 3 seconds of pleasure. As a human being, I want all of the aforementioned. I want children (not particularly a son). I want to start a family. And I really want my regular dose of 3 seconds of pleasure - just in a much more refined manner!

The Western model of marriage is not my cup of tee either. Getting married to someone only because you love them for a set period of time is not practical either. This is why my idea of marriage is the best of both world. I want to get married to someone I love and respect, and will love and respect for the rest of eternity, alas with a diluted version of the intended Eastern practicality. What's the point of having children if you stop getting along with your wife 5 years down the line? What's the point of having sex with a person you don't have any feelings for? What's the point of starting a family if at any point in time, it will not function as a family?

With all that in mind, marriage has never crossed my mind as something happening anytime soon. I'm an almost 24-year old, who's struggling with his sexual identity, and has never in his entire life dated a girl - let alone hold one's hands. While I'm painting an image of a sad and desperate young man, I really am neither. I've been down that road of worry and self-pity in terms of my career, and it only stands in the way of moving forward. This is why I've come to learn a very important lesson; everyone moves at their own pace. Am I every getting married? I really really really really really really want that. I've come along way in my struggles, and without them, I wouldn't the person that I am today! Does this mean I'm getting married in the next 3 years? Most probably not. Firstly, the most important ingredient of marriage is not in the picture. I need to find my potential life partner for me to even consider marriage. Secondly, I literally just started my life as a working adult 7 months ago. There is still no stability in my life whatsoever at the moment. Casting aside the instabilities in the region, personal instability includes working a field that I am not trained to work in, and providing for my family. Sometimes I feel I talk so damn much about these two topics, like I want someone to either hug me and tell me everything is going to be okay, or so that someone can give me a round of applause. I want neither. I just want to be understood and treated accordingly.

Given all that, I find it surprising that I'm bothered by the marriage talk I've been having these days. It's not the idea of marriage itself particularly, but rather the things that come with it; namely the expenses. A wedding is no easy feat. I guess I never had to think of spending such big amounts of money in my life. I've always been surrounded by people born with silverspoons in their mouths. On the other side of the spectrum, I was too young to even consider something that can be as costly as a wedding, a car, or a house. If I want to argue about each individually, I can argue that owning a house so early in life is not that important. I don't have an argument against a car because unfortunately there is no alternative here in Jordan. As for the wedding, that is something that has be agreed upon between the two persons involved - but personally speaking, I'm against the extravagant wedding culture. Everyday, I hear of a new wedding more ridiculous than the one before. It's like everyone is trying to up the other with how much money they can spend on one night - or even lately a full week - of dispensable burden.

Yet, here I am today, looking at what I am actually able to save and how I'm spending. By giving almost half of my salary to my parents, I am able to save up between 50 and 100 JDs monthly - depending how tight my hand is that month. I work well with budgets. I optimize them to get the best out of them. With the amount of money I spend, it include the necessities as well as entertainment (nothing luxurious). However, that is not enough if I want to collect enough money for a big investment. Let's not forget that a person cannot live in the same routine for endless years. Whatever money I collect, I would like to spend on something that improves me as a person. Whether it is getting exposed in travels, or investing in something like lessons (which I plan on after coming back from my trip) so that I become better at something new.

The other thing that has been bothering is my trip to Germany. I really hate to lie. So when someone asks me a question where the answers is related to my trip, I end up telling them about it, and in most cases I even end up telling them that I'm not the one paying for it. Most of them make the assumption that I'm loaded and I'm going just because I can easily afford to. It's nothing like that, and it's just an opportunity that came my way that I certainly cannot say no to. While a number of those people I know well and trust them enough not to be envious, I have had a long relationship with the negative impact of envy and I'm always afraid of it - whether to envy or be envied. I'm always too careful around people when it comes to envy because it's such a horrendous human trait. Do I get jealous at time? Certainly. But envy takes it a step further and people start wishing bad things, which is something I utterly and completely disapprove of.

I just have a really bad feeling about the trip. My heart is not at ease. We'll be doing loads of fun things in Germany! I have a vague idea of everything we'll be doing, which is a mix of new and old for me, as I've lived there for a year. However, I didn't experience everything, and I'm taking the chance to mix and match. But I'm very worried, and I can even say unexcited, about it all at this point in time.

I have no idea what my aunt is expecting. Since I'm the official organizer, I'm extremely scared to have wasted her money on something she won't enjoy. I talked to her already to get an idea of what she'd like to do, but she gave me the ultimate freedom to plan everything. When I started reserving hotels, she wasn't too satisfied with the prices, even though they were relatively cheap compared to what she asked me for initially, and I had to bitch slap her into the reality that if she wants something cheaper, she'd have to lower her expectation slightly. Based on that, I'm worried she won't enjoy the trip, which will keep me worried the entire trip because it's not my money that I'm spending. It's hers.

The second thing that is worrying me, which to be completely frank I have never thought it would ever bother me in my entire life, is the fact that she's wearing a full jilbab - not just a hijab. Germany is a very tolerant country. It's miles ahead the US in that domain. But the stories that I've been hearing on the news for the past year about muslims getting beaten, shot, and killed simply because of islamophobia are messing with my head. I'm very worried that something will happen to her over there, or maybe even to the both of us - all because she chooses to wear a jilbab. Maybe I'm overthinking things, but I can't get it out of my head. We're going there to have fun, not to have a funeral.