#tagging these last for reasons

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

If Leigh hadn't given Zoya Alina's storyline what role do you think she would've played in the next books? Right now she kinda fills in the gap that Alina left as the chosen one 2.0 but if it wasn't that what do you think would've been her story?

I mean that’s really hard to say because then what is the story going to be about? So much of KoS and RoW hinge on that rehashing. Removing it results in a completely different story— which is something I’d be fine with lol but it’s definitely not a case of like what would have happened instead.

Anyway, I personally love Zoya as more of a foil to the Darkling and filling that role of institutional power vs being placed as an Alina type who’s suddenly come into abilities she does not understand. With how much the original trilogy was about the threat of corruption inherent to power, the KoS duology did not engage with it… at all. I think partially because LB wanted to put the conflict to rest as something Alina like… fixed… to uphold the R&R ending. But it’s too neat, and just uninteresting? And Zoya and Nikolai were Team Morally Dubious from the literal beginning! Bizarre to have them refitted to Lawful Good with zero quandaries whatsoever. And it’s just more meaningful imo to see them working to uphold any sort of greater good, that the choices are taxing and dubious and sometimes very morally compromising.

I think Zoya and Nikolai are really interesting and can be super complimentary in how they operate on different sides of a gray morality spectrum. Zoya is ruthless and selfish, she has limits but she’s somewhat just out for herself and the people she cares about. Nikolai is greater good focused but he operates on a means to an end style of morality that’s literally presented as the starting point to where the Darkling ended up. That is bound to result in many ethical clashes! They have very different values!

Anyway I basically just wanted to see Zoya as the new scary power behind the throne. I wanted her as the new Darkling essentially in terms of being the shadowy figure who is doing the dirty work, and willing to get her hands way dirtier because her limits are different from Nikolai’s and she’s willing to go some fucked up places for her convictions. (The Alina to her Darkling lmao)

Like it’s not expanded on in KoS at all, but I see Zoya as something of a zealot tbh? She starts out as the Darkling’s devout follower, then somewhat grudgingly switches her allegiance to Alina. With both of them out of the way, I think Nikolai would fill that role for her. But not necessarily Nikolai the person, vs Nikolai the king and all of the hopes she’s placed on his rule making a difference. Which is to say, I think her devotion would mean she’s perfectly happy to go behind his back or hurt him in some way to protect him or help his rule. Like she is absolutely the person who would order fucked up assassinations that he might have qualms about without telling him because it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

Arc-wise I also just wanted to see her struggle way more with the Darkling’s ghost and the values he instilled in her. Navigating the aftermath of that kind of disillusionment, and just trying to figure out what she believes in at all.

Anyway in the version of KoS that exists in my head, there is no new magic or world ending stuff. They’ve fully exited the fairy tale. It’s just politics and the miserable business of piecing a country back together after a civil war, and also recovering from the trauma of everything that happened. But while Nikolai’s come out of it determined to Fix Ravka and Deserve being king and to be nothing like his father, Zoya has come out the other side determined to be efficient. And I’d just love to see them hurt each other a lot on the path to understanding each other and trying to grapple with the above questions of morality, and where to draw the line re: selfishness or destroying oneself for a cause. And most importantly shfhff I do not want an answer!

They’re team Morally Dubious! They live on a precipice! There’s no easy answer beyond just trying to do their best at any given moment and make some ethical trade offs and just hope really hard that overall they’re going in the right direction.

[spyres]

[lucabyte]

monologue

[sandflakedraws]

re : how each brother reacts learning that they can't go back

you'll have to pry the "all the Brozone Bros knew what happened at the tree" headcanon outta my cold, dead dead dead hands.

[forgetful-nerd]

No one:

Tumblr users on April Fools Day and Halloween:

[hailsatanacab]

A Persuasive Argument - dpxdc

"Great!" Danny says, clapping his hands together to get everyone's attention. The dinner table falls silent as everyone looks towards him. It's a full house today and, honestly, Danny's a little nervous. "I'm sure you're all wondering why I gathered you here today."

"It's dinnertime. In our house." Duke mutters, while doing a very bad job of concealing his yawn. He holds his fork poised over the braised beef, but, just like everyone else, still looks towards Danny before tucking in. It's intriguing enough to wait.

"Yeah, no one misses Alfie's dinner." Dick says, with a brilliant smile that Danny can't help but return.

"Precisely! What better time to talk to you all than when you're all actually here!"

"Wait, I thought you came round to work on our English essays?" Tim asks, blinking owlishly.

"I'm afraid I've lured you here under false pretences, Tim."

"This is where I live."

"I would still really appreciate help on that essay though, I mean, what the hell is Hamlet even about? I just don't get that old time-y language, like 'Hark! A ghost hath killed me!' - absolute rubbish, what does that even mean?"

"The ghost never kills anyone in Hamlet, he's there to tell Hamlet that he was murdered. Have you actually read it?"

"No, but it sounds like you have. Tim, I want this guy to help me with my essay instead. I know for a fact that you haven't read Hamlet, either."

"So? We don't need Jason, I've read the Sparknotes."

"Hi Jason, I'm Danny, pleasure to meet you, summarise Hamlet in three sentences or less."

"Am I auditioning to help you write your essays? I can't believe you’ve gone through your whole school life without reading it, it’s good!"

"Hamlet, along with a number of other classics, was banned in our house because it portrayed ghosts as intelligent and sympathetic beings rather than evil, animalistic beasts. I didn’t even get to see The Muppet's Christmas Carol until last year with Tim! It was surprisingly good, and I hate Christmas because everyone always argued and it sucked. But we're getting off topic. I—"

"No, no, please go back to that, because what the fu—"

"Boys, please." Bruce interrupts, looking to the world as if he wants to hang his head in his hands. "Danny, you were about to say something?"

"Oh, yeah, Mr. Wayne! Thanks!"

"Please, call me Bruce."

"Well, that very succinctly brings me to my point, because I'd actually really like to call you dad."

Nobody says a word. Nobody even blinks, all as shocked as the other, watching open-mouthed as Danny pulls his laptop out from beside his chair. Bruce can definitely feel a headache coming on.

"Before you say anything, I've prepared a 69 slide PowerPoint presentation on why you, Bruce Wayne, should adopt me, Danny Last-Name-Pending. Please save your questions, comments, and verdict until the end, thank you."

[jadequarze]

I miss them T^T I miss the blue girlies

[queruloustea]

siblings and a lantern :)

[isjasz]

🎇INPRNT SHOP OPEN🎇

YIPPEE I FINALLY DID IT THIS TOOK SO LONG OH MY GOD. But yeah you can now buy my prints if you wish!!!!!!

Including way too many pieces from the desertduo daily challenge i did #dddaily4sherin and a whole bunch of other pieces, all requested by you guys <3 tysm to everyone who helped me select my pieces!

Giant shout out to thello sillyfairygarden for helping me out with this too, go check out her prints too💥

and now i will stop rambling GO CHECK OUT MY SHOP :D There's a 15% off sale going on too ending tomorrow! (Sept 22)

rbs are super appreciated too🫶!

[cardo-de-comer]

started playing lisa. a doodle i don't understand what is going on and in fact all i remember is just Nern talking and talking and talking and talking and

[cosmosully]

aftermath

[hellspawnmotel]

remember when I did this?

well I did more

[shalom-iamcominghome]

It's absolutely true that delusions can take on religious elements and be fueled in part or whole by religion, but dear l-rd, do I hate when people blanket all religion under this whole "it's all delusion, anyway!!!".

No it is not, and I know that because I know what it's like to have gone through delusions! I was reminded of that difference recently, and I'm religious. Not everything that you personally disagree with is a delusion, a narcissistic power play, or anything else. Sometimes you disagree with others. I am pretty religious, but I am more than willing to agree with non-theists about their opinions because they come up with good ideas and we are equal human beings. In fact, the atheist has strengthened my own religious beliefs because I am challenged by them to actually think things through. My whole issue with this is the - funnily enough - holier-than-thou, stigmatizing attitudes that are necessary to say things like that.

As someone who has a vested interest in mental health and accurate information about it, this stuff unironically angers me. The human in me wants to educate people, but the ape in me wants to take away the terms delusional, narcissistic, gaslighting, and every mental health term under the sun away until people learn how to properly use and apply them. The only people you are hurting are people who are already hurting.

[rocksandmirrors]

bonjour

[metukika]

me and my best friends

[inbabylontheywept]

The Condom Bomber

The crux of the story is Brother Dean. Brother Dean was…is…a hate preacher. Red or blue, everyone agreed on that. His origins and his motivations, those were a little more mysterious. Different groups had their own legends. I had a class with a guy that was part of the campus pro-life movement, and the tale he gave me is the one that I give the most credence to. According to him, Brother Dean had started out as a “normal” pro-life preacher. He’d gone around campus, led parades, given speeches… And then he’d gotten punched in the face.

This led to a lawsuit against the school. Something about failing to provide adequate protection? The main result was that he got something like half a mil. Half a mil is an incredible amount if you’re still working, but he’d tried to use the money to fund a sort of pro-life career, and it had just… trickled down. Ten years later he was running dead low on funds, and had taken to the particularly dumb strategy of trying to get punched in the face again. You know. For economic reasons. It had become kind of a vicious cycle: He’d started off saying some objectionable shit to try and goad someone into taking the punch. The worse the shit he said was, the harder it became for him to find work doing anything else, and the harder it became for him to find work doing anything else, the less he had to lose by saying really objectionable shit. Throw in two years of living on ramen, and he was so desperate to get punched that he was quoting the Westboro Baptists. If you know, you know. The pro-life group, to their credit, hated him the most out of anyone. They viewed him as the ultimate sellout, someone who was actively making their positions and beliefs look worse by the day, solely for his own enrichment. The other conservative groups held him in the same regard. The rest of the campus hated him for simpler reasons. It would be difficult to find anyone more detested anywhere else on site. Brother Dean’s antithesis was the Trojan Warrior. TW was a normal student by day, but maybe once a month or so he’d don his hoplite armor and roam around, handing out free condoms. Trojan condoms. It was kind of his shtick. Between the costume, and the whole character that he had going on, most people didn’t really recognize his alter ego. I myself am pretty good with faces, so one day I noticed he was behind me in the foodcourt and decided to thank him by paying for his smoothie. Small tangent, but if you’re looking to get good stories, buying lunches for interesting people works like magic. TW decided that he was going to thank me for thanking him by giving me something like 10 feet of condom roll. I was mortified, aggressively single, and on SSRI’s. He was not sure how many of those were permanent. I wasn’t either. He wound up giving me just a handful, and said that if nothing else, they could probably be used as water balloons. I accepted. Who doesn’t like water balloons?

I finished my lunch with the warrior and left, considering targets for the "balloons". I passed by Brother Dean near the main commons and had my lightbulb moment. I spent a few minutes watching him from a distance, trying to find the optimal angle to get him without getting caught on camera (he always had someone filing in the background, it was a necessary thing for his hopeful future lawsuit). The time delay was useful for helping me realize that it really wasn't worth it. The sun had been bearing down so hard that the glue in my shoes had melted, and getting him wet would be a favor that day. 

So, mildly disappointed, I shelved my dream and left. 

A week later the monsoons hit. I left one class and ran to a campus computer commons to try and get some shelter and study between classes. Just before I got through the door, I saw Brother Dean, umbrella in hand, setting up his speaker and mic. He wasn't technically allowed this far into campus (the commons were owned by the city) but he'd gone to where his audience was and security was probably holed up somewhere cozy. I could hardly blame them. 

I made it up to the second floor and started studying when the mic picked up. All glass buildings are not very soundproof. He was loud, and he was annoying, and he was outside a library, under a balcony, and-

And I had condoms. Water balloon condoms. 

And he was under a balcony. 

I put my laptop away, pulled out my condom roll, and went to the bathroom. I wasn’t sure how big a condom could actually stretch, so I just kept filling it until it was about the size of basketball. Maybe a smaller watermelon? And thus armed, I waddled my way out into the halls. I cannot emphasize enough just how unsubtle this was. I was cradling this big, overfilled condom like some sort of phallic ghost baby, and it was so heavy that I sort of had to squat as I went. People saw me. Lots of people saw me. I passed by one room full of computer science students, all learning C++, and three of them waved at me. And I waved back in that my-arms-are-full-but-I’m-excited-to-see-you-too way, where you jut your wrist up a little bit and flap your hand around excitedly. I did, eventually, make it to the balcony. The building’s high ceilings made the second-floor thing kind of a misnomer: I was easily forty feet up. I scooched my way to the edge, and the view I had… it was perfect. Brother Dean was directly underneath, thank God. If he’d been even seven or eight feet out, I’m not sure if I could’ve shotput the condom-bomb far enough to hit him directly. Better yet his cameraman was only a few feet away from him, far too close to catch any action going up 40 feet above. I managed to wrestle the payload onto the balcony, and with a gentle push, I sent it and Dean to destiny. I realized that I’d made a mistake almost as soon as the condom began to fall. You know that sound that bombs make in cartoons, that long drawn out whistle? The condom made that sound. I had a second education in the seriousness of my mistake when the condom hit Dean’s umbrella. It did not pop. Of course it didn’t pop. I had no experience with condoms, I swear to you, I promise, I did not know how much they could stretch. You can fit your whole leg into them. You can fit them over whole park benches. A gallon and a half of water was nothing compared to that. It broke Dean’s umbrella. It hit the top, and it snapped the stem like a twig, and then-

Violence. Unspeakable violence. It clipped Dean’s shoulder and stretched down to his knees before recoiling back to its original shoulder height. It did not bounce. It floated in space, no wasted energy in the collision. One hundred percent of the kinetic energy, all 3300 Joules of it, were discharged into this sad wretch of a man. He did not collapse. There was no time for that. He rotated on his axis. It was as if the hand of God had reached down and grabbed him about his waist, only to twist. In a fraction of a second, his head filled the space where his ass had been and his ass filled the space where his head had been, and then his cheek, carried by the shuriken motion of his body, slammed into the pavement with a noise like Shaq slam dunking a porkchop. Maybe wetter.

He did not move.

I panicked.

I want to make it clear: I did not mean to assault this man. I meant to get him wet and embarrassed. But I also have to confess that this was a beating. Mike Tyson himself can only put about 1600 Joules into one of his punches, and if he hit me I would bounce off five walls before I fell. I would not wish 3300 Joules upon anyone.

I walked into the building and sat myself in the back of the C++ class. The people next to, to my immense and eternal gratitude, did not question why I was wet.

A minute later, Brother Dean stormed into the building with his microphone.

He yelled. He screamed. He hollered. He informed the entire world that he had been assaulted, with a condom, by someone on the second floor. I was ecstatic that he was alive. 

Every person in that class knew who had brought this hell upon them. Every single one of them knew it was me. And if I’d done this to someone else, some Steven Crowder, some Ben Shapiro, someone would’ve thrown me to the wolves. It would have only taken one person in that room of sixty. But Brother Dean was hated by everyone, literally everyone, and so the entire class sat in silence.

Some of that silence was gleeful, and some of it was bored, and some of it, a very small amount, was directly disapproving, but even the disapproving silence carried an understanding. A note of, “Yes, yes, that was very irresponsible, and you should not do that again, but who could blame you? Something needed to happen. Not that something, but…something.”

Security could be given grace to ignore the man when it was raining, and he was just outside the building, but they were not given such grace when he was inside with a microphone. Just a few short minutes later, a golfcart pulled up, and he was summarily marched out. There was maybe a minute of silence after that before the professor announced that his class was not open to visitors.

I left. He’d made his point.

It was a few weeks before I saw Brother Dean again, and his black eye still hadn’t healed all the way when I did. He was, however, still preaching the same old things as always. Percussive maintenance works better on vacuum tubes than human brains. I will say that he definitely made a point to stay away from balconies after that. And the next time it rained, I actually went out to watch him put his speaker and his mic into the back of a wagon and wheel it off the campus.

It appeared that he’d developed some opinions about the kind of weather he was willing to preach hate in.