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superheroesincolor: Encyclopedia of Black Comics (2017) The Encyclopedia of Black Comics, focuses on people of African descent who have published significant works in the United States or have worked across various aspects of the comics industry.  The book focuses on creators in the field of comics: inkers, illustrators, artists, writers, editors, Black comic historians, Black comic convention creators, website creators, archivists and academics—as well as individuals who may not fit into any category but have made notable achievements within and/or across Black comic culture. By Sheena C. Howard Get it now here Sheena C. Howard, is the  Past Chair of the Black Caucus (NCA) and Associate Professor of Communication at Rider University. Howard is an award-winning author, including a 2014 Eisner Award winner for her first book, Black Comics: Politics of Race and Representation (2013). She is also the author of Black Queer Identity Matrix (2014) and Critical Articulations of Race, Gender and Sexual Orientation (2014). Howard has appeared on NPR (National Public Radio), 900 am WURD, Philadelphia Weekly and CCP-TV as well as other networks and documentaries as an expert on popular culture, race, politics and sexual identity negotiation. She has also written opinion pieces for the Trentonian and the Huffington Post. [Follow SuperheroesInColor faceb / instag / twitter / tumblr / pinterest] : superheroesincolor: Encyclopedia of Black Comics (2017) The Encyclopedia of Black Comics, focuses on people of African descent who have published significant works in the United States or have worked across various aspects of the comics industry.  The book focuses on creators in the field of comics: inkers, illustrators, artists, writers, editors, Black comic historians, Black comic convention creators, website creators, archivists and academics—as well as individuals who may not fit into any category but have made notable achievements within and/or across Black comic culture. By Sheena C. Howard Get it now here Sheena C. Howard, is the  Past Chair of the Black Caucus (NCA) and Associate Professor of Communication at Rider University. Howard is an award-winning author, including a 2014 Eisner Award winner for her first book, Black Comics: Politics of Race and Representation (2013). She is also the author of Black Queer Identity Matrix (2014) and Critical Articulations of Race, Gender and Sexual Orientation (2014). Howard has appeared on NPR (National Public Radio), 900 am WURD, Philadelphia Weekly and CCP-TV as well as other networks and documentaries as an expert on popular culture, race, politics and sexual identity negotiation. She has also written opinion pieces for the Trentonian and the Huffington Post. [Follow SuperheroesInColor faceb / instag / twitter / tumblr / pinterest]
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soft-riddler: honeybuddhahoe: kosherdyke: sugarbutchy: twitblr: Rest in Power to Our Allies Who Risk Their Life Fighting With Us and For Our Rights https://www.clevelandjewishnews.com/news/local_news/osu-graduate-22-dies-after-attending-protests-in-columbus/article_dcadd6b2-a75d-11ea-94c3-e7751ddd6d55.html May her memory be a blessing Z"L it gets worse tho! the original person who reported this on twitter said she did NOT die of asthma related syptoms. Thats what they WANTED us to think!! she died bcause they sprayed so much tear gas in her face that she inhaled too much and DIED. HER DEATH WAS NOT CAUSED BY ASTHMA RELATED SYMPTOMS. Only tear gas. Solely tear gas. They murdered her. And remember not to say Rest In Peace for her. She was jewish. Say “may her memory be a blessing” like it says above. : soft-riddler: honeybuddhahoe: kosherdyke: sugarbutchy: twitblr: Rest in Power to Our Allies Who Risk Their Life Fighting With Us and For Our Rights https://www.clevelandjewishnews.com/news/local_news/osu-graduate-22-dies-after-attending-protests-in-columbus/article_dcadd6b2-a75d-11ea-94c3-e7751ddd6d55.html May her memory be a blessing Z"L it gets worse tho! the original person who reported this on twitter said she did NOT die of asthma related syptoms. Thats what they WANTED us to think!! she died bcause they sprayed so much tear gas in her face that she inhaled too much and DIED. HER DEATH WAS NOT CAUSED BY ASTHMA RELATED SYMPTOMS. Only tear gas. Solely tear gas. They murdered her. And remember not to say Rest In Peace for her. She was jewish. Say “may her memory be a blessing” like it says above.

soft-riddler: honeybuddhahoe: kosherdyke: sugarbutchy: twitblr: Rest in Power to Our Allies Who Risk Their Life Fighting With Us and...

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cereusblue: unnameablethings: dragonsateyourtoast: redporkpadthai: dragonsateyourtoast: otherwindow: otherwindow: This is how the golden age of piracy ended. The first mermaid to get tattoos :) “we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?” “kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes. “we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.” “i know.” x “daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.” her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her. “daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor. “don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing. x “father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?” “your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.” she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says. x “why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam. “we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.” she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family. “it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.” x her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.” the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass. “why not?” the mermaid asks. “he’ll win,” the first mate says. the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks. x the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her. “don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.” x the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape. “let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.” they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her. she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings. the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone. x she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea. x “you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her. she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise. “i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.” the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. “we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either. “i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time. “guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.” “without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?” “i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?” “of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.” x the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid. “you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock. the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy. “they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.” “and now?” “they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?” the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.” She protects her family. Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link! https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817 That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there! HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER : cereusblue: unnameablethings: dragonsateyourtoast: redporkpadthai: dragonsateyourtoast: otherwindow: otherwindow: This is how the golden age of piracy ended. The first mermaid to get tattoos :) “we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?” “kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes. “we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.” “i know.” x “daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.” her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her. “daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor. “don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing. x “father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?” “your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.” she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says. x “why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam. “we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.” she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family. “it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.” x her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.” the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass. “why not?” the mermaid asks. “he’ll win,” the first mate says. the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks. x the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her. “don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.” x the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape. “let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.” they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her. she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings. the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone. x she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea. x “you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her. she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise. “i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.” the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. “we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either. “i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time. “guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.” “without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?” “i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?” “of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.” x the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid. “you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock. the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy. “they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.” “and now?” “they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?” the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.” She protects her family. Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link! https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817 That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there! HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER

cereusblue: unnameablethings: dragonsateyourtoast: redporkpadthai: dragonsateyourtoast: otherwindow: otherwindow: This is how the g...

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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 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...

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ironwoman359: cereusblue: unnameablethings: dragonsateyourtoast: redporkpadthai: dragonsateyourtoast: otherwindow: otherwindow: This is how the golden age of piracy ended. The first mermaid to get tattoos :) “we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?” “kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes. “we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.” “i know.” x “daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.” her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her. “daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor. “don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing. x “father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?” “your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.” she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says. x “why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam. “we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.” she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family. “it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.” x her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.” the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass. “why not?” the mermaid asks. “he’ll win,” the first mate says. the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks. x the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her. “don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.” x the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape. “let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.” they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her. she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings. the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone. x she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea. x “you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her. she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise. “i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.” the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. “we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either. “i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time. “guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.” “without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?” “i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?” “of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.” x the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid. “you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock. the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy. “they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.” “and now?” “they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?” the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.” She protects her family. Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link! https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817 That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there! HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER I love this : ironwoman359: cereusblue: unnameablethings: dragonsateyourtoast: redporkpadthai: dragonsateyourtoast: otherwindow: otherwindow: This is how the golden age of piracy ended. The first mermaid to get tattoos :) “we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?” “kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes. “we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.” “i know.” x “daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.” her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her. “daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor. “don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing. x “father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?” “your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.” she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says. x “why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam. “we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.” she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family. “it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.” x her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.” the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass. “why not?” the mermaid asks. “he’ll win,” the first mate says. the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks. x the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her. “don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.” x the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape. “let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.” they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her. she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings. the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone. x she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea. x “you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her. she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise. “i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.” the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. “we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either. “i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time. “guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.” “without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?” “i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?” “of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.” x the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid. “you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock. the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy. “they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.” “and now?” “they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?” the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.” She protects her family. Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link! https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817 That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there! HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER I love this

ironwoman359: cereusblue: unnameablethings: dragonsateyourtoast: redporkpadthai: dragonsateyourtoast: otherwindow: otherwindow: Th...

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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 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...

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khadij-al-kubra: tooiconic: fuckyeahyonicsymbols: dorkilybeautiful: blackmoonbabe: brain-confetti: nightvalemeteorologist: suctioning: Why She had a dream and she realized it. Hey wait but sit down This is Megumi Igarashi She’s a Japanese artist Japan, the country with some of the most fucked up pornography and the penis festival Where the vagina is basically illegal to talk about  So she did a bunch of art featuring 3D sculptures of her vagina, including this kayak, and was put in jail for it She was indicted again in December on obscenity charges for selling vagina art to crowdfund for the kayak and could spend two years in prison In Japan, women’s vaginas are treated as though they are men’s property. The trains here usually display pornographic advertisements. As a woman, I find that blatant objectification to be humiliating. I’m disgusted by it. My body belongs to me.So, with this project I wanted to release the vagina from the standard Japanese paradigm. Japan is lenient towards expressions of male sexuality and arousal, but not so for women. When a woman uses her body in artistic expression, her work gets ignored, and people treat her as if she’s some sex-crazed idiot. It all comes back to misogyny. And the vagina is at the heart of it.The vagina is ridiculed. It’s lusted after. Men don’t see women as equals—to them, women are just vaginas. Then they call my vagina-themed work “obscene,” and judge me according to laws written by and for men. [x] She plans to turn her trial in to a manga comic. She seems pretty sure she’s not going to do any jail time but if you’d like to help her pay for her inevitable fine and court fees, you can check out her online store. There are little glow in the dark vagina characters. Wow I’ve seen this reblogged a ton of times without seeing the whole going to jail part. Here’s a recent article about her from July of 2017.  It looks like she did some brief time in jail, and is currently still working on this artistic effort, as well as trying to raise awareness about a new terrorism law and the jail/prison system in Japan.  Reblogging again for the updates! I went from “wow why” to “YES GIRL” in 2 min. Viva la vulva: khadij-al-kubra: tooiconic: fuckyeahyonicsymbols: dorkilybeautiful: blackmoonbabe: brain-confetti: nightvalemeteorologist: suctioning: Why She had a dream and she realized it. Hey wait but sit down This is Megumi Igarashi She’s a Japanese artist Japan, the country with some of the most fucked up pornography and the penis festival Where the vagina is basically illegal to talk about  So she did a bunch of art featuring 3D sculptures of her vagina, including this kayak, and was put in jail for it She was indicted again in December on obscenity charges for selling vagina art to crowdfund for the kayak and could spend two years in prison In Japan, women’s vaginas are treated as though they are men’s property. The trains here usually display pornographic advertisements. As a woman, I find that blatant objectification to be humiliating. I’m disgusted by it. My body belongs to me.So, with this project I wanted to release the vagina from the standard Japanese paradigm. Japan is lenient towards expressions of male sexuality and arousal, but not so for women. When a woman uses her body in artistic expression, her work gets ignored, and people treat her as if she’s some sex-crazed idiot. It all comes back to misogyny. And the vagina is at the heart of it.The vagina is ridiculed. It’s lusted after. Men don’t see women as equals—to them, women are just vaginas. Then they call my vagina-themed work “obscene,” and judge me according to laws written by and for men. [x] She plans to turn her trial in to a manga comic. She seems pretty sure she’s not going to do any jail time but if you’d like to help her pay for her inevitable fine and court fees, you can check out her online store. There are little glow in the dark vagina characters. Wow I’ve seen this reblogged a ton of times without seeing the whole going to jail part. Here’s a recent article about her from July of 2017.  It looks like she did some brief time in jail, and is currently still working on this artistic effort, as well as trying to raise awareness about a new terrorism law and the jail/prison system in Japan.  Reblogging again for the updates! I went from “wow why” to “YES GIRL” in 2 min. Viva la vulva
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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 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
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