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Was

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Ended
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Sits

Sits

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Many

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Your
Your

Your

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Thinking About

Thinking About

The
The

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Blocking

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Ok And

Ok And

🔥 | Latest

And How: what-even-is-thiss: bobcatdump: jaskiegg: mellomaia: aphony-cree: beyoncescock: gahdamnpunk: Honestly!!! This is just psychological trauma in the making THANK YOU I’ve asked parents about this and they always say they are teaching the child responsibility and “respect for other people’s things.” If I point out that the child accidentally broke their own toy they always say “I bought them that toy” or “my sister gave that to them.” The problem is that parents view all possessions as not really belonging to the child. A part of them always seems to think that the adult who provided the money is the real owner If a parent breaks a dish they see it as breaking something that already belonged to them, but if a child breaks it they see it as the child breaking something that belonged to the parents People raising children need to realize that household possessions belong to the entire household. If everyone has to use that plate then it belongs to everyone and anyone can have a forgivable accident with it. It’s okay to deem certain possessions as just yours and ask everyone in the house to respect that, but extend the same respect to your child’s belongings Big mood. I know most of these are talking about little little kids, but here’s a tale from middle school. I had forgotten to charge my phone one night, and this was back when cell phones used to beep loudly when they were low on battery. I kept hearing the noise throughout the afternoon and not recognizing what it was because I’d never heard it before. When I finally did realize what it was, I was in science class and my fellow classmates were making presentations. I reached into my bag to try to turn off the phone, and then the low-battery sound went off, loud enough for the teacher to hear it. She confiscated my phone in front of everyone, and I didn’t get it back until after the weekend because it was a Friday. I was really embarrassed, especially to tell my parents. When I got my phone back that Monday, my teacher said it was important for me to learn this lesson now since in college they wouldn’t tolerate phones going off. Fast forward to when I was in college, any time someone’s phone went off, either the professor would tell them to turn it off, or they would say, “Oh, my bad,” and turn it off themselves, and everyone would move on. I even had a professor who danced around while someone’s phone went off, and it was a welcome moment of levity during the lecture. I say all this to say, one of the worst aspects of being a child/teen was adults assuming my intentions were malicious. God I’ve been reading these posts for a while and each time I am struck with the realization that certainly not all parents were supposed to be a parent “I say all this to say, one of the worst aspects of being a child/teen was adults assuming my intentions were malicious.”YES this The problem is, even if families are forgiving the culture around children still effects the child. I use myself as proof of that. A few times between the ages of 4 and 18 I broke things. I broke my grandma’s favorite Christmas ornament. Her first question was: “Are you hurt?” and when I apologized profusely she said “I’m just glad you weren’t hurt.” I broke a few plates. I broke a couple glasses. Every time my dad’s first response was “Did you get cut?” the second step was cleaning up the broken bits, and the third was a discussion of what led to me breaking it and how I could avoid doing that in the future. Same with spills. Same with stains. My biggest “punishment” from my immediate family was being taught how to clean up the mess I made and being shown in detail how to avoid the same mistake in the future if it was avoidable. There were consequences for my actions, but they were the direct result of those actions and nothing much beyond that. My family tried so hard to teach me how to deal with accidents in a healthy way. They were patient. They treated every slip-up as a learning opportunity. They showed me a lot of love. The other adults still got to me. Teachers still punished and publicly shamed me and other students for our mess-ups. Extended family members outside of my small supportive circle still yelled at me. My friends’ parents still got mad. To the point where whenever I messed up my first instinct was that my dad or grandparents were going to punish me, or yell at me, or hit me, even though they never did. They just didn’t. They always responded with patience and an attitude of “I’m glad you’re safe and I want to help you learn from this.” And I was still afraid of messing up. Mortified. Expecting the worst every time. It’s like… we need to change the culture around this, man. Completely.
And How: what-even-is-thiss:

bobcatdump:

jaskiegg:

mellomaia:

aphony-cree:

beyoncescock:

gahdamnpunk:

Honestly!!! This is just psychological trauma in the making


THANK YOU

I’ve asked parents about this and they always say they are teaching the child responsibility and “respect for other people’s things.” If I point out that the child accidentally broke their own toy they always say “I bought them that toy” or “my sister gave that to them.”
The problem is that parents view all possessions as not really belonging to the child. A part of them always seems to think that the adult who provided the money is the real owner
If a parent breaks a dish they see it as breaking something that already belonged to them, but if a child breaks it they see it as the child breaking something that belonged to the parents 
People raising children need to realize that household possessions belong to the entire household. If everyone has to use that plate then it belongs to everyone and anyone can have a forgivable accident with it. It’s okay to deem certain possessions as just yours and ask everyone in the house to respect that, but extend the same respect to your child’s belongings

Big mood. I know most of these are talking about little little kids, but here’s a tale from middle school. I had forgotten to charge my phone one night, and this was back when cell phones used to beep loudly when they were low on battery. I kept hearing the noise throughout the afternoon and not recognizing what it was because I’d never heard it before. When I finally did realize what it was, I was in science class and my fellow classmates were making presentations. I reached into my bag to try to turn off the phone, and then the low-battery sound went off, loud enough for the teacher to hear it. She confiscated my phone in front of everyone, and I didn’t get it back until after the weekend because it was a Friday. I was really embarrassed, especially to tell my parents.
When I got my phone back that Monday, my teacher said it was important for me to learn this lesson now since in college they wouldn’t tolerate phones going off. Fast forward to when I was in college, any time someone’s phone went off, either the professor would tell them to turn it off, or they would say, “Oh, my bad,” and turn it off themselves, and everyone would move on. I even had a professor who danced around while someone’s phone went off, and it was a welcome moment of levity during the lecture. 
I say all this to say, one of the worst aspects of being a child/teen was adults assuming my intentions were malicious.



God I’ve been reading these posts for a while and each time I am struck with the realization that certainly not all parents were supposed to be a parent

“I say all this to say, one of the worst aspects of being a child/teen was adults assuming my intentions were malicious.”YES this



The problem is, even if families are forgiving the culture around children still effects the child. I use myself as proof of that. 
A few times between the ages of 4 and 18 I broke things. I broke my grandma’s favorite Christmas ornament. Her first question was: “Are you hurt?” and when I apologized profusely she said “I’m just glad you weren’t hurt.”
I broke a few plates. I broke a couple glasses. Every time my dad’s first response was “Did you get cut?” the second step was cleaning up the broken bits, and the third was a discussion of what led to me breaking it and how I could avoid doing that in the future.
Same with spills. Same with stains. My biggest “punishment” from my immediate family was being taught how to clean up the mess I made and being shown in detail how to avoid the same mistake in the future if it was avoidable. There were consequences for my actions, but they were the direct result of those actions and nothing much beyond that.
My family tried so hard to teach me how to deal with accidents in a healthy way. They were patient. They treated every slip-up as a learning opportunity. They showed me a lot of love. The other adults still got to me. Teachers still punished and publicly shamed me and other students for our mess-ups. Extended family members outside of my small supportive circle still yelled at me. My friends’ parents still got mad.
To the point where whenever I messed up my first instinct was that my dad or grandparents were going to punish me, or yell at me, or hit me, even though they never did. They just didn’t. They always responded with patience and an attitude of “I’m glad you’re safe and I want to help you learn from this.” And I was still afraid of messing up. Mortified. Expecting the worst every time.
It’s like… we need to change the culture around this, man. Completely.

what-even-is-thiss: bobcatdump: jaskiegg: mellomaia: aphony-cree: beyoncescock: gahdamnpunk: Honestly!!! This is just psychologica...

And How: professionalpeachhunk: [[This is Isaiah Hine’s high school presentation on white fragility. You’re not going to get a simpler explanation, in my opinion, so if you’re white you should really read this. Below are Isaiah’s notes on each slide.]] — What is White Fragility? Robin DiAngelo is a professor at Westfield State University and author of What Does it Mean to Be White? Developing White Racial Literacy. I’m sure you’ve all seen these ‘defensive moves’ in action before. “I didn’t mean anything by it” “I wasn’t trying to be offensive” “I have a black friend” “Not all white people” People are often more worried about being called a racist than actually doing something racist. In America white people often don’t even have to consider race. They often think of themselves as “raceless” white is conditioned to be the norm and everyone else is considered “raced” or “colored”. White fragility allows white people to govern when and how race is discussed. White people expect to be educated on racism, and in a nice way. — Why Is It A Bad Thing? White people never learn as a result and are allowed to continue saying and doing racist things. White people prefer to hear these things from other white people but because other white people don’t know enough about racism, they cycle continues. When people of color do things like the BLACKLIVESMATTER movement, many white peoples responses were “all lives matter” this is white fragility. Proclaiming that black lives matter does not inherently mean that other lives don’t. This statement is made because society continually shows us that black lives don’t matter in america and these are the lives that need the affirming. We already know that white lives matter, it doesn’t need to be stated. White people are very used to being the center of things and when they aren’t it makes them uncomfortable. — Why Does This Happen? Most people don’t fully grasp the idea of systemic racism and that we live in a racist society that perpetuates racist ideas. We are socialized into white supremacy.
And How: professionalpeachhunk:
[[This is Isaiah Hine’s high school presentation on white fragility. You’re not going to get a simpler explanation, in my opinion, so if you’re white you should really read this. Below are Isaiah’s notes on each slide.]]
—
What is White Fragility?

Robin DiAngelo is a professor at Westfield State University and author of What Does it Mean to Be White? Developing White Racial Literacy.
I’m sure you’ve all seen these ‘defensive moves’ in action before. “I didn’t mean anything by it” “I wasn’t trying to be offensive” “I have a black friend” “Not all white people”
People are often more worried about being called a racist than actually doing something racist. In America white people often don’t even have to consider race. They often think of themselves as “raceless” white is conditioned to be the norm and everyone else is considered “raced” or “colored”. White fragility allows white people to govern when and how race is discussed. White people expect to be educated on racism, and in a nice way.
—

Why Is It A Bad Thing?
White people never learn as a result and are allowed to continue saying and doing racist things. White people prefer to hear these things from other white people but because other white people don’t know enough about racism, they cycle continues. When people of color do things like the BLACKLIVESMATTER movement, many white peoples responses were “all lives matter” this is white fragility. Proclaiming that black lives matter does not inherently mean that other lives don’t. This statement is made because society continually shows us that black lives don’t matter in america and these are the lives that need the affirming. We already know that white lives matter, it doesn’t need to be stated. White people are very used to being the center of things and when they aren’t it makes them uncomfortable. 
—
Why Does This Happen?

Most people don’t fully grasp the idea of systemic racism and that we live in a racist society that perpetuates racist ideas. We are socialized into white supremacy.

professionalpeachhunk: [[This is Isaiah Hine’s high school presentation on white fragility. You’re not going to get a simpler explanation...

And How: crazyrichxplainr: Actors of color often get typecast. Two photographers asked them to depict their dream roles instead. How Hollywood Sees Me … And How I Want to Be Seen
And How: crazyrichxplainr:


Actors of color often get typecast. Two photographers asked them to depict their dream roles instead. 
How Hollywood Sees Me … And How I Want to Be Seen

crazyrichxplainr: Actors of color often get typecast. Two photographers asked them to depict their dream roles instead. How Hollywood...

And How: And how are we suppose to look at the guy who impregnated her? by blackmachine312 MORE MEMES
And How: And how are we suppose to look at the guy who impregnated her? by blackmachine312
MORE MEMES

And how are we suppose to look at the guy who impregnated her? by blackmachine312 MORE MEMES

And How: ups-dogs: The Bandanna of Betrayal.The Shawl of Shame.The Horrible Hankie of Hunger.The Do-Rag of Dietary Deprivation and Despair.Upon my arrival at the Patricia Green Winery in Newberg Oregon, I was confronted with a horrific sight that left me with an awful and impossible dilemma; I could either respect the cruel and inexplicable demands of the customer by denying biscuits to their dog Maggie, or I could break their rules and yield to the almost hypnotic, yearning gaze of her pleading eyes as she beseeched me to proffer her daily treats.I considered my options carefully as I looked around to see if anyone was watching. Their wishes were clear, but what harm could *one* biscuit possibly do? What kind of barbaric monster would force their sweet dog to wear a sign around her neck prohibiting treats? How could I possibly be expected to withhold her daily Milk Bone? What had she done to deserve such barbaric treatment? And how many biscuits could I sneak to her without getting busted?Fortunately, my questions were soon answered by the arrival of her owner who graciously explained the reason for this seemingly abusive act. It turns out that the vineyard had been hosting their annual fall wine tasting all week long, and was providing the guests with salami, prosciutto, breads, and various types of gourmet cheeses to be paired with the wines. And in her role as official tasting room mascot, Maggie was allowed to circulate freely amongst the guests, who of course were rendered as powerless as I by her beseeching gaze. The result of their copious offerings of such rich meats and sharp cheeses upon her digestive system are best left to the imagination, and her humans were left with no alternative but to take drastic action in order to prevent Miss Maggie the Manipulative and Malodorous Moocher from rendering the tasting room uninhabitable.Fortunately for her, however, the feeding ban did NOT apply to ordinary dog biscuits, thus leaving me free to be the hero and ease her pangs of hunger on what turned out to be Quadruple Biscuit Friday. All was right with the world once again!By Scott Hodges.
And How: ups-dogs:

The Bandanna of Betrayal.The Shawl of Shame.The Horrible Hankie of Hunger.The Do-Rag of Dietary Deprivation and Despair.Upon my arrival at the Patricia Green Winery in Newberg Oregon, I was confronted with a horrific sight that left me with an awful and impossible dilemma; I could either respect the cruel and inexplicable demands of the customer by denying biscuits to their dog Maggie, or I could break their rules and yield to the almost hypnotic, yearning gaze of her pleading eyes as she beseeched me to proffer her daily treats.I considered my options carefully as I looked around to see if anyone was watching. Their wishes were clear, but what harm could *one* biscuit possibly do? What kind of barbaric monster would force their sweet dog to wear a sign around her neck prohibiting treats? How could I possibly be expected to withhold her daily Milk Bone? What had she done to deserve such barbaric treatment? And how many biscuits could I sneak to her without getting busted?Fortunately, my questions were soon answered by the arrival of her owner who graciously explained the reason for this seemingly abusive act. It turns out that the vineyard had been hosting their annual fall wine tasting all week long, and was providing the guests with salami, prosciutto, breads, and various types of gourmet cheeses to be paired with the wines. And in her role as official tasting room mascot, Maggie was allowed to circulate freely amongst the guests, who of course were rendered as powerless as I by her beseeching gaze. The result of their copious offerings of such rich meats and sharp cheeses upon her digestive system are best left to the imagination, and her humans were left with no alternative but to take drastic action in order to prevent Miss Maggie the Manipulative and Malodorous Moocher from rendering the tasting room uninhabitable.Fortunately for her, however, the feeding ban did NOT apply to ordinary dog biscuits, thus leaving me free to be the hero and ease her pangs of hunger on what turned out to be Quadruple Biscuit Friday. All was right with the world once again!By Scott Hodges.

ups-dogs: The Bandanna of Betrayal.The Shawl of Shame.The Horrible Hankie of Hunger.The Do-Rag of Dietary Deprivation and Despair.Upon m...

And How: omgcheckplease: ★ Notes on Year 4, Comic 26 - Check, Please ★In the summer of 2013, I was fully mourning my completed time as an undergraduate at Yale. One of the college’s traditional songs—which they strategically have students sing during their first weeks as Yalies and then again at the moment we’re conferred our degrees—goes like this:Bright College years, with pleasure rife,The shortest, gladdest years of life;How swiftly are ye gliding by!Oh, why doth time so quickly fly?Et cetera. The first time you sing it, you mumble the words and don’t know a single person around you. The last time you sing it, wearing the mortarboard and gown, you’ve got the lyrics memorized and you’re surrounded by some of the most important people in your life.That summer, with “How bright will seem, through mem’ry’s haze/ Those happy, golden, bygone days!” still ringing in my ears, I started CHECK, PLEASE. The comic’s first panels emerged on an ancient laptop, through a borrowed bamboo tablet, and on a free drawing program called gnu-IMPShop. I had no plan. I wanted to explore my newfound fascination with hockey and share silly cartoons on Tumblr. But unconsciously, I also wanted to pour the nostalgia of those bright college years into the Haus, Faber, Samwell, and Bitty’s story. I wanted to bottle up those moments where we grow and change and fall down and pick ourselves back up. Drawing CHECK, PLEASE was how I revisited those experiences and how I sifted through the bittersweet feeling of concluding something I loved. Perhaps this is why finishing CHECK, PLEASE calls back those same emotions. Just as Bitty would bake affection into a pie, I might have encoded into CHECK, PLEASE the heartfelt fondness I had for my time in college, the love of the friends I made there, and the gratitude I have for my own growth.I have always found it easier to express gratitude face to face. And even though I would not have gotten to meet all of you, the greatest downside of being unable to participate in a book tour is that I can’t say thanks in person. I could write a thousand words, yet they couldn’t replace a high five at a bookstore signing or a handshake at a convention. I could write the blog post to end all blog posts, but it’s not the same as yelling with you about an episode or chatting about a fandom we both happen be in. For me, it’s those moments that somehow equate to my abundant appreciation for you, the reader.I look forward to the day when I can let my actions speak louder than my words!In the meantime: thank you. I am incredibly blessed to get to create a story and then share it. This is all I want to do in life. These characters get to have a readership overflowing with love and enthusiasm for them. This comic, somehow, has found ambassadors. This story gets to be told. Thank you! I’m excited to share with you the unusual, fun, and hopeful narratives I’m working hard to develop.So with that, I’ll sign off on the last blog post! Thank you for reading this comic. Thank you for sharing it with friends. Thank you for caring about Bitty’s story and CHECK, PLEASE.Thank you!John J. Johnson.Just kidding, it’s Ngozi. :^) Tee hee. Bye now!
And How: omgcheckplease:

★ Notes on Year 4, Comic 26 - Check, Please ★In the summer of 2013, I was fully mourning my completed time as an undergraduate at Yale. One of the college’s traditional songs—which they strategically have students sing during their first weeks as Yalies and then again at the moment we’re conferred our degrees—goes like this:Bright College years, with pleasure rife,The shortest, gladdest years of life;How swiftly are ye gliding by!Oh, why doth time so quickly fly?Et cetera. The first time you sing it, you mumble the words and don’t know a single person around you. The last time you sing it, wearing the mortarboard and gown, you’ve got the lyrics memorized and you’re surrounded by some of the most important people in your life.That summer, with “How bright will seem, through mem’ry’s haze/ Those happy, golden, bygone days!” still ringing in my ears, I started CHECK, PLEASE. The comic’s first panels emerged on an ancient laptop, through a borrowed bamboo tablet, and on a free drawing program called gnu-IMPShop. I had no plan. I wanted to explore my newfound fascination with hockey and share silly cartoons on Tumblr. But unconsciously, I also wanted to pour the nostalgia of those bright college years into the Haus, Faber, Samwell, and Bitty’s story. I wanted to bottle up those moments where we grow and change and fall down and pick ourselves back up. Drawing CHECK, PLEASE was how I revisited those experiences and how I sifted through the bittersweet feeling of concluding something I loved. Perhaps this is why finishing CHECK, PLEASE calls back those same emotions. Just as Bitty would bake affection into a pie, I might have encoded into CHECK, PLEASE the heartfelt fondness I had for my time in college, the love of the friends I made there, and the gratitude I have for my own growth.I have always found it easier to express gratitude face to face. And even though I would not have gotten to meet all of you, the greatest downside of being unable to participate in a book tour is that I can’t say thanks in person. I could write a thousand words, yet they couldn’t replace a high five at a bookstore signing or a handshake at a convention. I could write the blog post to end all blog posts, but it’s not the same as yelling with you about an episode or chatting about a fandom we both happen be in. For me, it’s those moments that somehow equate to my abundant appreciation for you, the reader.I look forward to the day when I can let my actions speak louder than my words!In the meantime: thank you. I am incredibly blessed to get to create a story and then share it. This is all I want to do in life. These characters get to have a readership overflowing with love and enthusiasm for them. This comic, somehow, has found ambassadors. This story gets to be told. Thank you! I’m excited to share with you the unusual, fun, and hopeful narratives I’m working hard to develop.So with that, I’ll sign off on the last blog post! Thank you for reading this comic. Thank you for sharing it with friends. Thank you for caring about Bitty’s story and CHECK, PLEASE.Thank you!John J. Johnson.Just kidding, it’s Ngozi. :^) Tee hee. Bye now!

omgcheckplease: ★ Notes on Year 4, Comic 26 - Check, Please ★In the summer of 2013, I was fully mourning my completed time as an undergr...

And How: This belongs here, cause you guys get how important encryption is (and how long and hard someone was working on it) unfortunately, We’re the joke to gov’t here.
And How: This belongs here, cause you guys get how important encryption is (and how long and hard someone was working on it) unfortunately, We’re the joke to gov’t here.

This belongs here, cause you guys get how important encryption is (and how long and hard someone was working on it) unfortunately, We’re...

And How: earthsong9405: All done with Urbosa’s redesign and the additional sketches for her role in my headcanon! <: As usual I didn’t change too much but I gave her a slightly different hairstyle, some tusks (as is natural for Gerudo in my headcanon), and a brand new outfit! She has such lovely colors to work with, I love her so much ;-;But I’m sure ya don’t wanna hear me babble about how enjoyable her design is. So, let’s go straight into the headcanon! <:————————--Urbosa is the current chief of the Gerudo and serves as the acting Champion for them as well. As a Champion in this timeline, she holds a key component in gaining access to Old Hyrule-”Champion” in this timeline doesn’t fully hold the same function as it once did in BotW. Instead of being chosen to pilot the Divine Beasts, a Champion are a handful of chosen warriors that serve as Hyrule’s best line of defense against any threat. Despite every group of peoples having their own form of governing, culture, and way of life, all of them are still united under the banner of Hyrule, and the Champions could be the physical representation of this tight alliance. A Champion may not necessarily have a lot of political power by themselves but what they represent and what they stand for still puts them in a high position in social status and therefore their word often holds significant weight. As not only the chief of Gerudo but also their Champion, Urbosa is in a position of having more power than what would typically be seen for a Chief. Thankfully though, she doesn’t abuse it and leads her people well: there’s a reason she’s so well respected and loved among not only the Gerudo, but across Hyrule as well.-As one of the original Champions, Urbosa retains many of her memories from her past life, including what ultimately led to her death-I’ve always liked the idea of Urbosa being a motherly figure to just about anyone she meets, but that also includes being an actual mother! Her kid in this headcanon is Riju <:-While Urbosa isn’t actually related to Ganondorf, he refers to her as his “aunt”. Of all the Gerudo in his life, Urbosa was a consistent presence, often visiting him and his parents at their secluded home in the middle of Korok Forest. She’d bring stories of adventure and gifts and even helped train him to be a skilled warrior, but as much as she loves the boy her visits held an alternative motive.-As a whole, no one really knows of Ganondorf’s past as being the vessel for the Demon King, but if anyone would have any idea about it it’d certainly be the Sheikah and the Gerudo. As per tradition in their culture, a newborn Gerudo must be brought forth to a shaman for examination to ensure their health and to fully proclaim their citizenship as a new member of the tribe. When Ganondorf was examined, the first thing the shaman noticed was the peculiar mark upon his chest: a birthmark in the shape of the wound that struck Demise down all those thousands of years ago. In seeing the mark the shaman took the baby away from his mother and brought it to the council and Urbosa to discuss what to do with it.The Gerudo are intimately familiar with the history surrounding the Demon King and how he stole one of their own, so the mark was very telling of what the child once was. And given the long stretch of peace Hyrule was experiencing it understandably buzzed some fear among the elder council. Many were afraid his birth meant an end to that peace, that the Demon King had somehow reincarnated once more and meant to bring hell back to Hyrule.So in response to all of this, the elders argued amongst each other about a solution. Many ruled the boy too dangerous to allow him to grow older and demanded he be… dealt with. Others deemed that too cruel, even for a damned child, and suggested they simply leave him somewhere far away: let nature decide if he lives or dies. But, as chief and Gerudo Champion of Hyrule, it ultimately came down to Urbosa’s choice. She held the babe her council hissed demon, stared at the birthmark that marked him as a vessel, heard the pleading sobs of the boy’s mother over the whispers of “we’ll make it quick, but we mustn’t let him live”, “he is dangerous, he will bring doom to us all” “end it now while he is weak”.Stared at the supposed demon child, who simply yawned in her grasp and blinked up at her with innocent, yellow eyes. She met the Demon King once: she had stared into that monster’s eyes while she fought it to her death in her past lifetime. She knows soulless eyes when she sees them… and this baby didn’t have those eyes.So Urbosa made her decision: the boy will not die. It was largely met with disbelief and anger: you will doom us all! they said. Despite Urbosa staying firm in her decision, it took her days of arguing with the council and the aid of a Sheikah Seer (who examined the child themselves and confirmed that he didn’t house the Demon King) to finally reach a compromise: the boy will live, but he can’t live among the Gerudo. He had to live with his mother in exile, and his growth had to be monitored as a precaution. The monitoring came in the form of Urbosa’s frequent visits.-Urbosa is close friends with Zelda’s parents and is also something of an “aunt” figure to Zelda as well; Zelda absolutely adores Urbosa and even sees her as more of a secondary mother figure than anything.————————————Aaaaaaaaand that’s all I have for Urbosa for now! If I think of anything else I’ll be sure to add more, and of course if ya have questions you’re more than free to ask them. <: Otherwise I hope you enjoy! ^.^
And How: earthsong9405:

All done with Urbosa’s redesign and the additional sketches for her role in my headcanon! <: As usual I didn’t change too much but I gave her a slightly different hairstyle, some tusks (as is natural for Gerudo in my headcanon), and a brand new outfit! She has such lovely colors to work with, I love her so much ;-;But I’m sure ya don’t wanna hear me babble about how enjoyable her design is. So, let’s go straight into the headcanon! <:————————--Urbosa is the current chief of the Gerudo and serves as the acting Champion for them as well. As a Champion in this timeline, she holds a key component in gaining access to Old Hyrule-”Champion” in this timeline doesn’t fully hold the same function as it once did in BotW. Instead of being chosen to pilot the Divine Beasts, a Champion are a handful of chosen warriors that serve as Hyrule’s best line of defense against any threat. Despite every group of peoples having their own form of governing, culture, and way of life, all of them are still united under the banner of Hyrule, and the Champions could be the physical representation of this tight alliance. A Champion may not necessarily have a lot of political power by themselves but what they represent and what they stand for still puts them in a high position in social status and therefore their word often holds significant weight. As not only the chief of Gerudo but also their Champion, Urbosa is in a position of having more power than what would typically be seen for a Chief. Thankfully though, she doesn’t abuse it and leads her people well: there’s a reason she’s so well respected and loved among not only the Gerudo, but across Hyrule as well.-As one of the original Champions, Urbosa retains many of her memories from her past life, including what ultimately led to her death-I’ve always liked the idea of Urbosa being a motherly figure to just about anyone she meets, but that also includes being an actual mother! Her kid in this headcanon is Riju <:-While Urbosa isn’t actually related to Ganondorf, he refers to her as his “aunt”. Of all the Gerudo in his life, Urbosa was a consistent presence, often visiting him and his parents at their secluded home in the middle of Korok Forest. She’d bring stories of adventure and gifts and even helped train him to be a skilled warrior, but as much as she loves the boy her visits held an alternative motive.-As a whole, no one really knows of Ganondorf’s past as being the vessel for the Demon King, but if anyone would have any idea about it it’d certainly be the Sheikah and the Gerudo. As per tradition in their culture, a newborn Gerudo must be brought forth to a shaman for examination to ensure their health and to fully proclaim their citizenship as a new member of the tribe. When Ganondorf was examined, the first thing the shaman noticed was the peculiar mark upon his chest: a birthmark in the shape of the wound that struck Demise down all those thousands of years ago. In seeing the mark the shaman took the baby away from his mother and brought it to the council and Urbosa to discuss what to do with it.The Gerudo are intimately familiar with the history surrounding the Demon King and how he stole one of their own, so the mark was very telling of what the child once was. And given the long stretch of peace Hyrule was experiencing it understandably buzzed some fear among the elder council. Many were afraid his birth meant an end to that peace, that the Demon King had somehow reincarnated once more and meant to bring hell back to Hyrule.So in response to all of this, the elders argued amongst each other about a solution. Many ruled the boy too dangerous to allow him to grow older and demanded he be… dealt with. Others deemed that too cruel, even for a damned child, and suggested they simply leave him somewhere far away: let nature decide if he lives or dies. But, as chief and Gerudo Champion of Hyrule, it ultimately came down to Urbosa’s choice. She held the babe her council hissed demon, stared at the birthmark that marked him as a vessel, heard the pleading sobs of the boy’s mother over the whispers of “we’ll make it quick, but we mustn’t let him live”, “he is dangerous, he will bring doom to us all” “end it now while he is weak”.Stared at the supposed demon child, who simply yawned in her grasp and blinked up at her with innocent, yellow eyes. She met the Demon King once: she had stared into that monster’s eyes while she fought it to her death in her past lifetime. She knows soulless eyes when she sees them… and this baby didn’t have those eyes.So Urbosa made her decision: the boy will not die. It was largely met with disbelief and anger: you will doom us all! they said. Despite Urbosa staying firm in her decision, it took her days of arguing with the council and the aid of a Sheikah Seer (who examined the child themselves and confirmed that he didn’t house the Demon King) to finally reach a compromise: the boy will live, but he can’t live among the Gerudo. He had to live with his mother in exile, and his growth had to be monitored as a precaution. The monitoring came in the form of Urbosa’s frequent visits.-Urbosa is close friends with Zelda’s parents and is also something of an “aunt” figure to Zelda as well; Zelda absolutely adores Urbosa and even sees her as more of a secondary mother figure than anything.————————————Aaaaaaaaand that’s all I have for Urbosa for now! If I think of anything else I’ll be sure to add more, and of course if ya have questions you’re more than free to ask them. <: Otherwise I hope you enjoy! ^.^

earthsong9405: All done with Urbosa’s redesign and the additional sketches for her role in my headcanon! <: As usual I didn’t change too...

And How: zartbitter-salat:Like I did with Elio, here is Rhona and how her appearance changes throughout the first year :D
And How: zartbitter-salat:Like I did with Elio, here is Rhona and how her appearance changes throughout the first year :D

zartbitter-salat:Like I did with Elio, here is Rhona and how her appearance changes throughout the first year :D

And How: chalamets: The Last Jedi resolved the intrigue surrounding the heroine of this new sequel-trilogy, Rey, and her parentage with a gracefully simple, bold assertion: Rey is… just Rey. Not the daughter of some space aristocracy or legacy lineage, but a hero of her own making. […] That Rey’s parents were ordinary people meant anyone from anywhere could be born a hero; what determined a person’s place in the world was who they chose to be, rather than their last name. “Rey is our protagonist. And the truth is, in the story, the toughest possible thing for her to hear is, you know, you’re not gonna get the easy answer that you’re so-and-so’s daughter, this is your place,” [Rian] Johnson told me after The Last Jedi’s release. “You’re gonna have to stand on your own two feet and define yourself in this world.” Instead of taking the baton from Last Jedi and running with it to new heights, The Rise of Skywalker retreats right back into the safety of nostalgia. […] It’s as if Abrams and Terrio scrambled for a loophole specifically to mollify the “fans” upset that this hero—worse, this girl—dared to wield such incredible abilities with only her own strength […] Bookending the saga Anakin began with the story of a girl from nowhere who sets right what he helped unbalance might have been resonant. But who cares for that when there’s another billion-dollar franchise to set up and potential spin-offs to tease? — Melissa Leon, ‘The Rise of Skywalker’ Erases the Power of Rey’s Story and Surrenders to Sexist Trolls
And How: chalamets:

The Last Jedi resolved the intrigue surrounding the heroine of this new sequel-trilogy, Rey, and her parentage with a gracefully simple, bold assertion: Rey is… just Rey. Not the daughter of some space aristocracy or legacy lineage, but a hero of her own making. […] That Rey’s parents were ordinary people meant anyone from anywhere could be born a hero; what determined a person’s place in the world was who they chose to be, rather than their last name. “Rey is our protagonist. And the truth is, in the story, the toughest possible thing for her to hear is, you know, you’re not gonna get the easy answer that you’re so-and-so’s daughter, this is your place,” [Rian] Johnson told me after The Last Jedi’s release. “You’re gonna have to stand on your own two feet and define yourself in this world.”
Instead of taking the baton from Last Jedi and running with it to new heights, The Rise of Skywalker retreats right back into the safety of nostalgia. […] It’s as if Abrams and Terrio scrambled for a loophole specifically to mollify the “fans” upset that this hero—worse, this girl—dared to wield such incredible abilities with only her own strength […] Bookending the saga Anakin began with the story of a girl from nowhere who sets right what he helped unbalance might have been resonant. But who cares for that when there’s another billion-dollar franchise to set up and potential spin-offs to tease?
— Melissa Leon, ‘The Rise of Skywalker’ Erases the Power of Rey’s Story and Surrenders to Sexist Trolls

chalamets: The Last Jedi resolved the intrigue surrounding the heroine of this new sequel-trilogy, Rey, and her parentage with a gracefu...

And How: So You're Confronting Your Own Mortality or Preparing for the End or Some Dipshit Up and Died and Now I'm Stuck Dealing With This Mess ms-demeanor: ms-demeanor: ms-demeanor: jhinnua: ms-demeanor: Hey you know how I said I was going to make a workbook on the kind of bullshit you need to do when someone you love dies? I actually did that. HERE IS THE VERSION WITH LOTS OF SWEARING AT THE USELESS, SHITTY SITUATION YOU’RE IN. HERE IS THE VERSION WITH A FAIR AMOUNT OF BLACK HUMOR BUT NO CURSEWORDS. Featuring Helpful Sections such as: Death Certificates – What you need, why you need them, and how to get them Prepare to spend a long and miserable time on the phone What the Everloving Fuck is Probate Some Simple Dos and Don’ts Shitty Mad Libs – Templates for writing Obituaries and Memorials How to plan a non-religious death party So you suddenly have to become some sort of hacker or some shit This is an eighteen page book that you can print out, download, share, and give away; it is meant to be used to collect information about funeral planning and account management after a death OR you can use it BEFORE you die and give people information so they’re not stuck playing Nancy Fucking Drew while trying to keep seventeen cousins who crawled out of the woodwork from gutting each other in front of the fucking casket as they argue about who’s inheriting grandma’s favorite dentures. It’s not exactly cheerful and it’s full of things that are probably going to feel really fucking raw if you’re processing a fresh death. I’m sorry! I love you! Death is shitty! I’m trying to laugh about it a little and I hope you can laugh a little too because otherwise we’re all just going to cry together. Good luck! (in memory of my weirdo mother and her weirdo siblings who all died too fucking young and left me holding this flaming bag of dogshit) @ms-demeanor Tumblr wont let me message you privately, so is it ok if I share this to my FB page? The business I am in wants information like this to be public knowledge, but it’s still a business so I don’t want to post without permission. YES, please share it! And actually facebook blocks links to my blog for some reason so I have no problem with you just straight-up copy/pasting the PDF links! Credit me if you want (”@ms-demeanor on tumblr” is fine) but you don’t even have to. Just share it and spread it I want people to have an easier time of things! I’m universally  OK if people share these links so long as you’re not selling the booklet. I’m actually even okay if someone prints up a bunch of these and hands them out so long as they’re handed out for free. Also I want to make this point: I was very lucky. I had talked to my mom about her death plans and she and my dad have had their cremations planned and paid for for 25 years (Neptune Society baybee). I got lucky, we had talked about a book like this and she had started writing down passwords. I got lucky, she never took my advice about putting a passcode on her phone. But things were still harder than they needed to be. We’d talked about a death planning workbook because I’d found one on Amazon and we both thought it would be a good idea to fill it out because she was sick. I just never scrounged together $26.00 in the time between when we talked about it and when she died. You know what’s better than regretting that you couldn’t afford a death workbook? A FREE DEATH WORKBOOK. I mean, I don’t begrudge the authors of other death books their pay. I’m sure the other books are more comprehensive than mine and maybe some of them do a decent job of explaining probate. But death is expensive and living ain’t cheap. This is free explicitly because there are tons of people (though certainly not everyone involved) who will bypass compassion in order to profit off of the death industry and I want you to have at least this one thing that’s there for you free, as a gift, as something given to you for the sole purpose of making this easier on you in a time when every step is going to be expensive and difficult. This is free, no charge. All I ask is that, if possible, you share it with someone else who needs it and that you tell somebody you love that you love them. Hey all if you’re new here because of the firefox post or the browser wars post or the bastardous positivity post please consider downloading the free book I made about what to do when someone dies because you know what this is sad and shit but things are going to be much easier for you if you know the level of bullshit you’re going to be dealing with.
And How: So You're Confronting Your Own Mortality
 or
 Preparing for the End
 or
 Some Dipshit Up and Died and Now I'm
 Stuck Dealing With This Mess
ms-demeanor:

ms-demeanor:
ms-demeanor:


jhinnua:

ms-demeanor:

Hey you know how I said I was going to make a workbook on the kind of bullshit you need to do when someone you love dies? I actually did that.
HERE IS THE VERSION WITH LOTS OF SWEARING AT THE USELESS, SHITTY SITUATION YOU’RE IN.
HERE IS THE VERSION WITH A FAIR AMOUNT OF BLACK HUMOR BUT NO CURSEWORDS.
Featuring Helpful Sections such as: 
Death Certificates – What you need, why you need them, and
how to get them
Prepare to spend a long and miserable time on the phone
What the Everloving Fuck is Probate
Some Simple Dos and Don’ts
Shitty Mad Libs – Templates for writing Obituaries and
Memorials
How to plan a non-religious death party
So you suddenly have to become some sort of hacker or some
shit

This is an eighteen page book that you can print out, download, share, and give away; it is meant to be used to collect information about funeral planning and account management after a death OR you can use it BEFORE you die and give people information so they’re not stuck playing Nancy Fucking Drew while trying to keep seventeen cousins who crawled out of the woodwork from gutting each other in front of the fucking casket as they argue about who’s inheriting grandma’s favorite dentures. 
It’s not exactly cheerful and it’s full of things that are probably going to feel really fucking raw if you’re processing a fresh death.
I’m sorry! I love you! Death is shitty! I’m trying to laugh about it a little and I hope you can laugh a little too because otherwise we’re all just going to cry together.
Good luck!
(in memory of my weirdo mother and her weirdo siblings who all died too fucking young and left me holding this flaming bag of dogshit)


@ms-demeanor Tumblr wont let me message you privately, so is it ok if I share this to my FB page? The business I am in wants information like this to be public knowledge, but it’s still a business so I don’t want to post without permission.

YES, please share it!
And actually facebook blocks links to my blog for some reason so I have no problem with you just straight-up copy/pasting the PDF links! Credit me if you want (”@ms-demeanor on tumblr” is fine) but you don’t even have to. Just share it and spread it I want people to have an easier time of things! I’m universally  OK if people share these links so long as you’re not selling the booklet. I’m actually even okay if someone prints up a bunch of these and hands them out so long as they’re handed out for free. 


Also I want to make this point: I was very lucky. I had talked to my mom about her death plans and she and my dad have had their cremations planned and paid for for 25 years (Neptune Society baybee). I got lucky, we had talked about a book like this and she had started writing down passwords. I got lucky, she never took my advice about putting a passcode on her phone. 
But things were still harder than they needed to be. We’d talked about a death planning workbook because I’d found one on Amazon and we both thought it would be a good idea to fill it out because she was sick. 
I just never scrounged together $26.00 in the time between when we talked about it and when she died.
You know what’s better than regretting that you couldn’t afford a death workbook? A FREE DEATH WORKBOOK.
I mean, I don’t begrudge the authors of other death books their pay. I’m sure the other books are more comprehensive than mine and maybe some of them do a decent job of explaining probate.
But death is expensive and living ain’t cheap.
This is free explicitly because there are tons of people (though certainly not everyone involved) who will bypass compassion in order to profit off of the death industry and I want you to have at least this one thing that’s there for you free, as a gift, as something given to you for the sole purpose of making this easier on you in a time when every step is going to be expensive and difficult. 
This is free, no charge. All I ask is that, if possible, you share it with someone else who needs it and that you tell somebody you love that you love them. 

Hey all if you’re new here because of the firefox post or the browser wars post or the bastardous positivity post please consider downloading the free book I made about what to do when someone dies because you know what this is sad and shit but things are going to be much easier for you if you know the level of bullshit you’re going to be dealing with.

ms-demeanor: ms-demeanor: ms-demeanor: jhinnua: ms-demeanor: Hey you know how I said I was going to make a workbook on the kind of b...

And How: erinSCIF for America @erinscafe An 11-year-old told his class he was thankful that his dads were going to adopt him, and the substitute teacher told him "that's nothing to be thankful for." The three girls who stood up for this boy and went to get the principal are actual heroes. A Utah substitute told 5th graders that 'homosexuality is wrong.' She was escorted out after 3... P sltrib.com erinSCIF for America @erinscafe He "told his dads that he understood what the substitute was saying. D.M. said he didn't speak up, though, because he's had two failed adoptions before and didn't want his dads to rethink their decision, with his final court hearing coming up on Dec. 19." "He was so fearful that this could make us think that we don't want to adopt him," van Amstel said, trying not to cry. "That's definitely not going to happen. But this situation really hurt him. This person really hurt us." erinSCIF for America @erinscafe Like, these girls asked her to stop multiple times and then walked right tf out of class and straight to her boss. The kids are all right. Three girls asked her to stop multiple times. But she continued, so they walked out of the room to get the principal. As the substitute was escorted out of the building, she was still arguing, trying to make her point, the boy's fathers say they were told by school officials. "She also tried to blame our son," said one of the boy's dads, Louis van Amstel, “and told him that it was his fault that she went off." endangered-justice-seeker: One of the most important things you can teach your kids is when and how to say no to authority figures. Off-topic but what odd bowties.
And How: erinSCIF for America
 @erinscafe
 An 11-year-old told his class he was
 thankful that his dads were going to
 adopt him, and the substitute teacher
 told him "that's nothing to be
 thankful for."
 The three girls who stood up for this
 boy and went to get the principal are
 actual heroes.
 A Utah substitute told 5th graders that 'homosexuality
 is wrong.' She was escorted out after 3...
 P sltrib.com

 erinSCIF for America
 @erinscafe
 He "told his dads that he understood
 what the substitute was saying. D.M.
 said he didn't speak up, though,
 because he's had two failed
 adoptions before and didn't want his
 dads to rethink their decision, with his
 final court hearing coming up on Dec.
 19."
 "He was so fearful that this could make us
 think that we don't want to adopt him,"
 van Amstel said, trying not to cry. "That's
 definitely not going to happen. But this
 situation really hurt him. This person
 really hurt us."

 erinSCIF for America
 @erinscafe
 Like, these girls asked her to stop
 multiple times and then walked right
 tf out of class and straight to her
 boss.
 The kids are all right.
 Three girls asked her to stop multiple
 times. But she continued, so they walked
 out of the room to get the principal.
 As the substitute was escorted out of the
 building, she was still arguing, trying to
 make her point, the boy's fathers say they
 were told by school officials.
 "She also tried to blame our son," said one
 of the boy's dads, Louis van Amstel, “and
 told him that it was his fault that she went
 off."
endangered-justice-seeker:


One of the most important things you can teach your kids is when and how to say no to authority figures.




Off-topic but what odd bowties.

endangered-justice-seeker: One of the most important things you can teach your kids is when and how to say no to authority figures....

And How: Cat's Diary Dog's Diary Day 983 of My Captivity Dog food! My favorite thing! A car ride! My favorite 8:00 am My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre littie dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheiess must eat something in order to keep up my strength. 9:30 am thing! A walk in the park! My 9:40 am favorite thing! 10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing! 12:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing! 1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing! 3:00 pm - Wagged my tail My favorite thing! The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet. Today i decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since this clearly demonstrates my capabilities. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good litle hunter" I am. Bastards! There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage. Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow, but at the top of the stairs. I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released, and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded. The bird must be an informant. I observe him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe... for now. Dinner! My favorite thing! 5:00 pm 7:00 pm - Got to play balll My favorite thing! 8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing! 11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing! mini phone dump
And How: Cat's Diary
 Dog's Diary
 Day 983 of My Captivity
 Dog food! My favorite thing!
 A car ride! My favorite
 8:00 am
 My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre littie dangling
 objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other
 inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets.
 Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear,
 I nevertheiess must eat something in order to keep up my
 strength.
 9:30 am
 thing!
 A walk in the park! My
 9:40 am
 favorite thing!
 10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My
 favorite thing!
 12:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite
 thing!
 1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My
 favorite thing!
 3:00 pm - Wagged my tail My favorite
 thing!
 The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In
 an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.
 Today i decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at
 their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts,
 since this clearly demonstrates my capabilities. However, they
 merely made condescending comments about what a "good litle
 hunter" I am. Bastards!
 There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight.
 I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the
 event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I
 overheard that my confinement was due to the power of
 "allergies." I must learn what this means, and how to use it to
 my advantage.
 Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one
 of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking.
 I must try this again tomorrow, but at the top of the stairs.
 I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and
 snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly
 released, and seems to be more than willing to return. He is
 obviously retarded. The bird must be an informant. I observe
 him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that
 he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective
 custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe... for now.
 Dinner! My favorite thing!
 5:00 pm
 7:00 pm - Got to play balll My favorite
 thing!
 8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the
 people! My favorite thing!
 11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My
 favorite thing!
mini phone dump

mini phone dump