#please don't be cringy

[smile-radio-cannibal]

I used to work in a shoe recycling factory.

It was sole crushing. 🤣🤣🤣 Follow me for some spicier dad jokes that aren't allowed on tumblr (18+)

[heal2ninjagogirl]

Please please pleassee tell me there is one ninjago fan who use to be obsessed with lloyd when they were little (or like any of the 5 ninja). And when I mean obsessed, i mean watching multiple amvs about them, convincing yourself that your dating them, INSISTING that you were dating them to your elementary school friends during recess, commenting down on the said amvs that you were definitely dating them and drew so much cringy stuff with your self insert oc and them together.

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

omg how does your shattered's design look !!?? have you posted her before??? ^_^

i did! kinda sorta hhh the design is not that complicated but it never stays consistent so I never made a ref (I also never found the time or energy xd) but I have a doodle of what she should look like!

the brown in her color palette is leather so it's all shiny and darker once you shade it >:Dc

[chaosisdying]

some gays for today

[sharlmbracta]

astorvember backstory week

i'll probably be able to properly start writing about this (if i ever manage to) after the end of this semester. but the idea itself had been around for quite a while since 2022 or even 2021 i think.

"YOU WILL NOT TAKE THEM," he screamed.

The glow seemed to be coming at him. Glowering.

A strong soul, it hummed. Amusedly.

He only growled. "You will not take them."

It chuckled. A fog seemed to be enclosing around him, it was suffocating. He could barely hear the shallow- even before the fog, already too shallow, she had been so, so strong for him, and now he was losing her he couldn't lose her -breathing of his eldest anymore.

He tightened his grip around her, one arm numb, draped around her shoulder. He felt his vision receding, his breath sweltering, the ragged feeling his youngest had described before he had fallen he should have fled the place with them while he could, he should have sent them away while he could, it was his fault- a screech, sudden, sharp pain in his torso, traveling up to his heart, clamping it tightly.

A strong soul, it echoed, reverberating in his head this time.

He snarled. You will not have it, vile thing, you slaughtered them.

That was not my doing, it laced over, the higher priestess had deemed this area unredeemable, uninhabitable. Declared it to be purged, her well-known prestige allowing it to be carried out. Quite a shame, really, it stroke gently over his heart, I'm only here to pick up from the ashes, of what's worthy to be strengthened, given new power that only the pure and strong can withhold.

He felt himself slump over. He was struggling to keep his senses erect and alarmed, but he was barely able to stay awake anymore. He wasn't sure if it was the plague, the fog, or even the emotional aftermath of sorrow anymore. Still, he kept fighting, he had to. And why should I trust you?

Your children. I can grant them new power as well, new life.

He took a sharp breath. An offer of life, not only of him, but of others, his loved ones, things that were not to be taken lightly. Even yet, he knew better than to trust any god or spirit, after everything he had witnessed in his life. There was never true compassion, free of charge, in this world, he had learnt it all by the hard way. There was always a catch. And the cost?

It grinned in the darkness. You will serve me for the rest of your life.

He snapped awake then. A brainless slave, he bit out. how unoriginal. What about the children? Will you resurrect them and enslave them as well, turning them into mindless pawns of your own? They do not need their bodies to be tainted just to be mere vessels for your bidding, they have suffered enough.

As do you, it cooed. You are failing to realize, that my offer is not a ravagement, it is a gift, a reward for your valiance. You have proven yourself worthy, to serve as my hand, to carry out justice on such transgressions like these. Balance will finally be restored, by your hand. The world will hide from its lies, no longer.

He felt something trickle into his heart. It was burning, but it was only half unpleasant. He felt like boiling over and rage again, this time externally, to everyone who had hurt the children, the horrors they had to endure, while everyone else with the power had turned a blind eye to them, all of them. He flew up, suddenly coming alive, feeling every part in his body and his blood in it, more vigilant and awake than he had ever struggled before. The liquid rage, now being felt in his veins, he wanted to lash out to everyone who had been involved in all the offence, and willful ignorance. The suppressed rage, growing out, coming back to him now, all at once. The sudden power being injected to him seemed to be feeding on his anger and grief, amplifying them more. He could do it, take the offer, and act out revenge- justice. He would serve out justice. He could do it now.

But.

"You failed to answer my question," he snapped, "What about the children?"

Ever so perceptive, it mused, with that unruly tongue of yours. He was about to snark back when he suddenly felt his entire body his blood freezing over, before being lurched forwards it was like his insides were being melted his blood being let go again, he toppled over and vomited.

You ought to behave, voice like knives grazed internally over him, I am not a benevolent god.

"Why not just kill me now and get it over with, god," he spat, "so I can fight you both in the afterlife sooner."

It slammed him to the ground. Mortal. Silly, silly mortal. Articulating into his skull to the ground with every syllable. You. Cannot. Defy. Me.

"I can certainly fight to try," he gasped out.

And your children will be left to forever rot for your insolence, it growled. You may be foolishly brave, perhaps even more than the arrogant King himself, but that does not mean I could swipe you and all of your children out of existence and throw you all in eternal poison while keeping all your minds to last forever, spiraling wild towards the endless loop of insanity.

It paused to marvel at its work of blood, and its success of undoing now prevalent in his eyes. There was still defiance, but now there was a hint of what wasn't there before. Fear. It would serve you well, the voice climbing up into his throat, Do not interrupt me again. Do not make me repeat myself again. I am not a benevolent god. However, the stars have aligned tonight, a natural blood moon, and I am willing to grant you mercy.

Nipping on the edges of his heart. Your children will be let go. Their souls will be intact, while having more vigor than all of you have ever imagined. They would be blessed by my touch, even stronger in the repeating nights of today. They would be safe from, and even thrive in the forces that the tainted ones call "threats."

"And what of me?" He managed to voice out. "Will my mind be ripped away by you? How would I possibly know if you actually would carry out your part of the deal if I'm not there to witness and prove it? How would I know you wouldn't just devour me at the end of the contract?"

You will still have your mind as well, it lingered, as a guarantee. You will be free to choose your most intimate actions, under my eye, but the children will be away from my eye, they would not be chained. All of you, my power granted within the dark, you will thrive. Without my dark, you will be rendered vulnerable in the light. That is the major catch, but it is my nature, and it secures a promise. I will not be able to locate them, but I will be able to sense them, as the essences are of parts of my own. You, will carry on my dark to the light, place the crumbs and sparking stones in the corners of the lightest places, by the usefulness of your physical form, a vessel of the light, while having this contract of duty you hold as my hand.

He let himself relax then, the safety of his children accepted into term. It then slid up to his chin, caressing it. Do you now concur to the contract, the union?

He took a deep breath, and firmed himself. "I do."

Very well. The process will begin.

Excruciating heat exploded from his chin where it was caressing it, spreading first to his brain to numb it, though he doubted it was working, as he only felt an absolute level of burning, as it trickled down his throat and cascaded into his organs, not even able to register his own bloodcurdling screams. There was no space left within him to think, only the white-hot pain filling him to the brim.

A voice, now much deeper than before, vibrated within his entire body, coursing through him like he was a woodwind.

You're taking this very well. Most others would have physically and irreversibly shattered by now. Just a little longer now, keep holding yourself up, and your promise will be fulfilled.

The burning current injected into his body continued to run their individual courses, back and forth, until they settled on the top of his forehead, forming a pus, then an opening, the force being exerted, while the stream settled to a simple oscillation, as if in tandem, they were singing a lullaby. His breathing calmed, it felt like he was breathing underwater, his nerves and mind detached from his body, all already sunk under the motionless layers and layers of tar, but he calmed, nevertheless, like one does when falling near and into the absolute death.

There was a still, he was solid, rooted, numb, unexisting, silence felt than he had ever before.

Then, he was ignite, a burst of flame from his heart and forehead, and he was shot back upwards, beneath the ground, he broke the surface gasping for air as he woke.

You have proven yourself by surviving.

He felt sore all over, but he felt more vigorous than ever before, as if he had been injected a tremendous amount of intravenous fluids.

He felt a warm liquid dripping on his nose, under his eye, down his cheekbones. His forehead felt weirdly cold and empty, but there was something else that stung beneath his hair that he couldn't make out of. As soon as his vision cleared, he stumbled to the children, where they stirred. If they had gone through the same level of pain as well...

Do not fret, they have mercifully been spared, exempt from the test you endured. Your subconscious, while on your metamorphosis, had pulled away the recline of them, from them, into you.

Fell to his knees. He was exhausted, but the renewed warmth in his bloodstream kept him awake, feeling each pump and cycle of his circulation. He looked to his hands, wobbling. His brain felt like it was twitching, in and out, threatening him to snap him out like an overworked power cord any second. All the sheer power would take some time getting used to. He sighed. What have he gotten himself into? This time, there was no getting out of.

The children began to stir from their slumber. A smile grew on his lips. There hadn't been a back-out option after he first decided to take them in, either, he had made himself sure of it. He had promised himself to never abandon them, and do whatever it takes to protect them.

His eldest was the first to break the surface, stabilizing herself, checking each of her senses, before sitting up. She was always determined to be ready, to protect whenever he couldn't, the most vigilant. He was so proud of her, even though he was sad, the guilt always in his chest, because she had been made to take charge at such a young age, and he couldn't do better to fix that.

"Dad!"

In his distortion, he failed to see her coming, and she crashed into him. Her eyes wide, as she knew he had always been keen on the slightest motion. She grabbed both of his hands and looked straight into his eyes, breaking his haze, pull the focus into your eyes when the other is wandering lost, he had taught her, and it had saved her, more than once, to take back her brothers and sisters. She had no idea it would ever occur that she had to use it on him, who had never lost his firmness, even when pushed over, falling down, the determination, which she swore to herself to learn and follow it through, the strength of she now called her father.

She shook herself. No. She would prove her worth, which was her form of gratitude, even when time and time again he had told her that it's okay, which she never understood and always insisted. She felt that more than ever now, especially after she had almost been lost, awoken by her sheer devotion to her family, just for her to wake up to him losing himself. No. She would not lose her family, she would not lose her true father. She would not fail again. She would prove herself to him, and make it right.

"Are you alright?!"

He could feel her, the panic, the resolve, the deeply rooted pain and sorrow he knew she couldn't even properly recognize because she was just so young to be able to process it. He knew, in her age, all the internal turmoil, when it cumulates and breaks, it would all turn towards her for her to blame herself, when it never, ever wasn't.

Emotions lurched up in his throat as he met her gaze. He was going to speak out, in conviction, that it's not your fault- when he found that his vocal cords were locked. Thinking that it was because of the lump in his throat, he took a deep breath and tried again. Locked. In fact, he couldn't move his lips either when he tried to speak to her, her gaze boring into him, her expression turning into one of the uneasy apprehension- eyes nervously darting around acutely noticing his one turning to a grimace -that he haven't seen from her quite a while.

There was a deeply rooted chuckle.

Have I mentioned that you have proven yourself untrustful?

It was his own voice, he realized, as his face turned ashen of dread. No. He couldn't have said that to her. He didn't even feel his lips, nor his throat move, yet the voice had adorned itself from within his body.

Oh, dear. Forgotten about me already?

For a brief moment of his grief, elation, adrenaline, the recede of it, and his dizziness, he had. Unknowingly, his face had contorted into one of shock, anger, and disgust, while he was still unable to tear away from the gaze of the child, her own expression turning into the one he wished he wished to never bloom upon her face his daughter's face again-

Your collateral. As I have granted to you a guarantee, you will yield to me a collateral. Your ability to flit and flick about on your dancing tongue of a show have proven to be too risky to let slide off when it is absolutely necessary for me to keep holding you in check.

-Fear.

He closed his eyes. He couldn't fight back, he couldn't talk. He couldn't snarl, lest he hurt his daughter even further. He lowered his head.

"Dad...?"

That's better, it hummed. No need to be mournful, though. You will only be locked when you try to speak with them. They are already free; why restrain them with your voice even further? No, I could not overlook the very clear possibility you have shown yourself so adamantly that your voice alone was more than enough to turn them, the gift of my own power, against me.

This was all his fault.

"Are you mad at me...?"

Your strongest, who learnt to inherit your voice, I will take them.

His eyes flew open.

If you still manage to teach it, that is. Fortunately for her, she have not completely fortified herself of you, you had wisely chosen to not completely teach her the skills of your flaunt, so she is incomplete.

"I'm sorry, Dad..."

But she is versatile, volatile; clever, dangerous. I will keep watch on her by the eye I have on you, and any one step out of line, I will take her.

"I apologize, Father."

Not only of her, but of the rest of your children as well. Their senses, liable to forfeit, one by one, by the failure to fulfill your side of the agreement.

"It's- it's my fault."

But I would not be breaking my pact, as they will still be free from my rule. These inconveniences that I have spoken of will be in no need of actual use, if, you choose to behave.

"I should have been stronger, more vigilant, to protect them, all of us, like you have, like you have taught us. I failed- I failed, Father. Again."

He shot up, then crumpled on his knees just as quickly. After the one-sided preachment had finished drilling into him, he was violently let go, thrown onto the ground, all the presence of the fog leaving him, the binds that had tightly clasped him together forcefully falling apart, effectively leaving him a broken mess of thick, hungry-sentient blood, swollen flesh, and a bleeding forehead. His entire body was throbbing, vaguely being recalled of the oscillations that had thrummed so strongly within himself mere moments ago. He shook his head, finally shaking himself back into reality, and pulled her close.

It's not your fault, he wanted to say. It never was, and never will be your fault. But he couldn't, he knew now, he never could anymore, and so he held her tighter, coaxing her sobs into him, eventually his mixing into as well, each note he could never soothe anymore whenever she froze up, numb, only able to cling onto his voice as her guidance back out. I'm so grateful you're alive, the mixture of grief and blood dripping on his fingertips, desperately clutched and stroking on her back in an attempt to assure her, oh how he pleaded to assure her with his own voice one last time, I love you. I love you and that will never change. I will never be angry at you, and I will never, ever hurt you. I am sorry it had turned out this way, I should have been more careful, it is my own fault of carelessness, not yours- never yours. Don't you ever blame yourself again. I love you, and I am so, so proud of you. "I am- so proud of you, my daughter." He choked at then, and the last restraint of him broke. He couldn't anymore, no longer had control of his own self, anymore.

Well. At least it had granted him to get that one out. Vaguely, he could feel it, somewhere within his pulse, laughing, cackling, while it was witnessing him come completely undone in front of his children he had been so strong for. He shook his head. No, he couldn't risk anything more that would cost from his children. He decided to be grateful. He had sworn to protect them, whatever it takes. Even if he couldn't talk to them anymore, even if they would come to hate him for not bothering to explain anything to them anymore. Even if he had to let them go, and realization struck him.

He really did have to let them go, didn't he? They weren't safe here, with him, not anymore. When it was watching them through him, their every move, through the newly-made gape in his forehead. He wouldn't dare think of covering it, not because of the pain, but because of the consequences he- the children- might have. His children weren't safe with him anymore. It pained him, to his core, that the words he had needled into others so long ago were coming back to him, piercing him more than he had ever wished upon the false, ignorant adults. It was almost enough to cause a meltdown on its own, but he stayed put. He didn't want his children- would he be able to call them his own anymore when he finally left them for good like all the others who had hurt them, all the same to them in the end he was just the same, no good, another no good to forget -to remember him as the weak-minded rat who fell apart after a measly plague, abandoning them, too afraid to bear the weight, the responsibility of taking care of them anymore. He couldn't do that to them, and so he only firmed his resolve, held her, weeping out only the waves that he just couldn't hold. He felt the child returning the gesture, the uncertainty clear on her palm on his back, but the gentleness she exerted was correct. He managed a titter, then. She was always a quick learner, this part of her care he would never forget. The opposite, he couldn't bring himself to wish for her. For them.

I will always love you, never forget that. Never forget that you are loved. Even when they eventually grow up forgetting himself.

Unbeknownst to Astor, the younger children were staring at him, witnessing him weep like them, fright and sorrow and confusion in their eyes; but also sheer adoration, because he was with their sister, who never cried as well, but together now, both of them crying, but also smiling, which they couldn't understand, but she was smiling too, so it meant that she understood, right? They could understand their big sister, somehow, even when they didn't.

And they could understand that their dad loved them, somehow, different from the other moms and dads that had left them.

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

people can use this site however they want but there's something almost- idk, sad? about how few people are actually using their blogs. you can turn themes on and have skeletons dancing in the background. you can make everything hot pink. your blog is your scrapbook and you can put whatever you want in there. tags are okay at organizing things so you can have just a whole archive of cool shit to look at later. i know people complain a lot about people liking stuff about reblogging for engagement, and on one hand i get that- it is WILD to see a drawing i spent hours on get only 12 reblogs and 60 likes. Absolute culture shock compared to my previous fandoms. but i don't think you should reblog anything to make artists happy. i think you should reblog things so you can find them again. i think you should queue things to appear on the dash at specific times on certain days. i think you should reblog things so when you're talking to your friends about xyz post you saw you can look in your blog's archive and find it again. i think you should reblog things so that your dash is filled with one really sleepy cat. with the loss of reblogs there's the loss of engagement, which Does hurt the community-focus that makes tumblr so appealing, but idk i just wish people were more excited about the incredible amount of customization that tumblr allows and took advantage of that more

[jackredfieldwasmyjacob]

oh so even the new york times is covering the rise of fascism in this country. lovely (i want to scream at the top of the tallest mountain and proceed to live under a rock for the rest of my life)

[rena-yume]

The writers either legit forgot Salem exists or they don't have the mental capacity to remember someone other than rwby/j existed in the series

Maybe make rwby ask the blacksmith lady about her? Maybe a way to defeat her with ever after magic stuff??

The tree literally created the brothers, it obviously could undo whatever curse they put on Salem and oz or fix them or something, a soul knife wish thing de-ages Jaune why wouldn't ever after have more op items they could use/make?

Freaking make oz or Ruby or whatever do what Alyx did (exept they're still alive but missing a part of themselves or something) and have that fix Salem/kill her like she wanted? And end oz's curse as well

But no let's just keep this The Irrelevant RWBY Filler Volume

[lesbianfanfictionenthusiast]

people who try really hard to have an aesthetic are just really boring and have no personality

[elliemarchetti]

ACoTaR characters as Guerlain perfumes

because once I’ll get rich I intend to collect them like some kind of overpriced figurines and nobody is going to stop me.

The Girls 

Feyre Archeron - Insolence (Eau de Parfum)

Spontaneous, sometimes excessive, it’s the perfect perfume for those who are self-confident and proceed with the grace and elegance of a conqueror. Insolence is the portrait of a woman of audacious sensuality, impossible to resist, and it succeeds in its mission without losing the floral, fruity and powdery notes that I imagine Feyre carries with her from her time in the Spring Court.

Intensity  ⚫ ⚫ ⚫ ⚫ 

Price $$

Elain Archeron - Sparkling Bouquet (Eau de Parfum)

Fruity and fresh, Sparkling Bouquet has the olfactory imprint of a radiant personality, essential and multifaceted like a luminous jewel. The modernity of lavender and jasmine, mixed with a joyful accord of vanilla and sandalwood are the perfect representation of a character who loves growing flowers and feel the sun’s kiss on her skin.

Intensity  ⚫ ⚫ ⚫ 🔘

Price $

Nesta Archeron - La Petite Robe Noir (Eau de Parfum)

A tribute to the most beautiful black notes of perfumery, La Petite Robe Noir is a deep, mysterious perfume with a thousand facets, sometimes sweet and delicate, sometimes unique and sophisticated, but always unmistakable.

Intensity  ⚫ ⚫ ⚫ 🔘

Price $

Gwyneth Berdara - Eau de Guerlain (Cologne)

Light and refreshing, Eau de Guerlain is perfect in its clear and luminous simplicity, a reminder of Gwyn's innocence and vibrant curiosity.

Intensity  ⚫ 🔘 🔘 🔘

Price $$

Emerie - Neroli Outrenoir (Eau de Parfum)

A dark perfume, illuminated by neroli and bergamot, perfect for an enigmatic and magnetic character, willing to face her deepest fears for those she loves.

Intensity  ⚫ ⚫ ⚫ 🔘

Price $$$

Mor - Mandarine Basilic Forte (Eau de Parfum)

The sweetness of a sun-kissed golden mandarin meets a lively basil sublimated by the warmth of sandalwood and the sweetness of vanilla tincture. Intense, exciting and captivating, this perfume is a journey to discover nature, with its hidden beauties and its unstoppable strength.

Intensity  ⚫ ⚫ ⚫ 🔘

Price $$

Amren - Cuir Intense (Eau de Parfum)

A note of woody leather, an exceptional raw material, in contrast with the dark and mysterious character of a thousand-year-old creature, a perfect homage that highlights her strength, power and refinement.

Intensity  ⚫ ⚫ ⚫ ⚫

Price $$

Viviane - Shalimar (Soufflé de Parfum)

A real filter of femininity. Amber, sensual and luminous, in Prythian it would be produced in the Day Court and Viviane would be enraptured by its precious oriental caress. After the first application, the Lady of Winter would be unable to go without it, and Kallias would be secretly grateful.

Intensity  ⚫ ⚫ ⚫ 🔘

Price $

The Boys 

Rhysand - Oud Khol (Eau de Parfum)

Intense, fascinating and absolute, this is the scent of a black so deep that captures and changes you from within. Enriched by the delight of a caramel note, I this this is the perfect fit for the dreamer hidden under the cruel armor. 

Intensity  ⚫ ⚫ ⚫ ⚫

Price $$$

Cassian - L’Homme Idéal (Eau de Parfum)

What men aspire to be in the form of perfume. Luxurious and seductive, the ideal man is a devoted and captivating lover, and at the same time a powerful and methodical general, just like Cassian.

Intensity  ⚫ ⚫ ⚫ 🔘

Price $

Azriel - Patchouli Ardent (Eau de Parfum)

Dark and woody, the patchouli is sublimated in an extraordinarily vibrant and luminous way by the essence of rose and the mysterious accord of leather and musks, which make it a unique and refined sensory journey, fitting for the Shadowsinger.

 Intensity  ⚫ ⚫ ⚫ ⚫

Price $$

Tamlin - Vetiver (Eau de Toilette)

The fragrance of the earth at the crack of dawn, a perfect evocation of the awakening of the world for the High Lord of Spring.

Intensity  ⚫ ⚫ ⚫ 🔘

Price $$

Lucien - Eau de Fleur de Cédrat (Cologne)

From its sour freshness, similar to someone’s sense of humor, to its delicate citron, this perfume hides in plain sight the scents of the Mediterranean coastline.

Intensity  ⚫ 🔘 🔘 🔘

Price $$

Eris - Rouge Privé (Eau de Parfum)

A perfume to be savored like a fine wine, reinterpreted from the original Habit Rouge (which I find generally fitting for the Autum Court) with notes of fortified vanilla and amber that smell of resentment and dissatisfaction. In general, Rouge Privé is a perfume full of contrasts, perfect for someone dignified and full of secrets.

Intensity ⚫ ⚫ ⚫ 🔘

Price $$

[septicsnail]

Hello and welcome to my inconsistent watermark! Currently torn between two different online identities, those identities being Keiko The Lucky Fox (yes I know the watermark spells the name wrong but shhhhh we don't talk about that) and Septic Snail. Will I ever make up my mind? Who knows but I figured I should probably say something about it so people don't go thinking I stole someone else's work. Anyways these are probably the three most common ways you'll see me mark my work. They're all works in progress so please no judgement, I am very much aware that I am cringe. Btw the Keiko watermark was made as payment for a commission I did by someone on discord. I got permission to use it as a watermark for my art.

[t3thcup]

I need to see more of kendall singing !!! please let his talent be seen !!!

[thisusernameisridiculous]

Wow that two year gap is gonna be really hard to explain on a resume

[paganinpurple]

AO3 Etiquette -UPDATED

Based on both decent and not so decent replies, I have made some changes to my original post below.

It would seem a whole new kind of AO3 reader/writer is emerging and it is becoming clear not everyone quite understands how the website community works. Here is some basic guidance on how most people expect you to go about using AO3 to keep this a fun community archive that funtions correctly:

As well as likes, kudos is for when the story was interesting enough to make you finish reading. If it sucked or was badly written, you probably left. If you finished it, you liked it - so kudos.

If you really liked it, you should try to comment. It can be long and detailed or a literal keysmash. Writers don't care, we just love comments.

No critisism unless the author has specifically asked or agreed to hear it (so use your notes to say if you want some constructive feedback). Even constructive critisism is a no-no unless an author note tells you it's okay. No, posting it online is not an open invitation for that. Many people write as a fun hobby or a way to cope with, among other things, insecurity and just want to share. Don't ruin that for them. I've seen so many authors just stop writing coz they can't handle the negative emotions the critism brings, and it's only meant to be a fun thing shared for free (pointing out tagging errors is not included in this).

Do not comment to ask the author to write/update something else. It's tacky and off-putting and will probably have the opposite effect than the one you want.

There is no algorithm, it's an archive. Use the search and filter function to add/remove the pairings/characters/tropes etc. you want to read about and it will find you the fics that fit the bill.

For this to work, writers must tag and rate stories. This avoids readers finding the wrong things and missing the stuff they want. I don't care how cringy that trope is in your eyes - it gets tagged.

The tag exception is if you don't want to tag a million things or spoil your story, you can rate it as "chose not to use warnings," and maybe tag the bare minimum.

Don't censor tags. How can someone exclude a tag if the word isn't typed out correctly? There are no content bans for terms so don't censor them.

If the tags are mostly content/trigger warnings, especially if they are things considered very fucked up or graphic, you might want to use "dead dove - do not eat" to ensure people know that you're not messing around with tags and what they get is exactly what you've warned them about.

Character A/Character B means a ROMANTIC or SEXUAL relationship of some kind. Character A&Character B is PLATONIC, like friendship or family.

Nothing is banned. This is an rule because banning one thing is a slipperly slope to banning another and another, until nothing is allowed anymore. Do not expect anyone to censor for you. Because of the tags system, you are responsible for your own reading experience.

People can create new chapters and sequels/fic series any time after they "complete" a story. So it's considered perfectly normal to subscribe, even to a finished story. You can even subscribe to the author instead just to cover your bases.

Do not repost stories or change the publishing date without an extremely good reason (like a complete top to bottom rewrite or an exchange youve written for going public). It's an archive, not social media. No one cares what's the most recent, only what fits their tag needs.

Instead of deleting a story you wrote if you hate it - consider making it anonymous or orphaning it so others can still enjoy it, without it being connected to your name anymore. If you still want to delete it, fair enough.

It's come to my attention that metaworks ARE allowed on AO3, which is something I wasn't aware of. So if you do post an essay or theory, please tag it as such so others can choose to search for it or exclude it. Art is also allowed.

The only reason this archive works is because NON ONE PROFITS. Do not link to your ko-fi or patreon or mention monetary gain in any way or you violate the terms and risk having your account removed. If anyone does link, it leaves the archive open to people claiming it's for profit and having the whole thing removed.

I KNOW there's plenty more I missed but I'm trying to cover most of the basics that people seem to be struggling with.

I invite anyone to add to this, but please explain, don't berate.

[genderqueerdykes]

as someone who has been scarred for life by experiences at gay bars, i need people to understand it's beyond tacky to mock people who want queer spaces beyond queer bars- it's dangerous.

let me explain. i went to 2 of my local queer bars a lot last year, as much as i was able to despite being poor. i witnessed a fist fight that was so bloody that ended up with a transmisogynistic drag queen getting hit in the head with a metal baton. the sight caused me to uncontrollably throw up in the bathroom of the club because of how gruesome it was. they had to close down the club and forard people out the back door because of how out of hand this person got- he was screaming transmisogynstic slurs and phrases at the bouncers were were transfem.

i was also sexually assaulted at these places, i was repeatedly groped by several people who i was not interacting with in the first place who found me attractive and decided physically grabbing me on numerous occasions was the way to get my attention. being femme in a queer bar is dangerous even if the people groping you are gay men.

i am also a recovering addict who dealt with alcohol issues in the past and could be considered a recovering alcoholic. i don't want to be around alcohol. i don't want to smell it. it triggers awful memories and also sometimes makes me consider getting a drink, but i can't have one, because the medications i take will cause a fatal reaction- i don't want to be tempted to drink, because it will kill me.

it's not right to mock someone or call them childish or whatever for not wanting to go to a club. whenever alcohol is involved, people's inhibitions are gone and they will do whatever. this includes fighting. i witnessed several other fights. just because it's a queer bar doesn't mean there won't be fights. and it especialyl doesn't m ean that you won't get groped or assaulted because, like i said, since alcohol is involved and it's a bar, there's a high chance this can and will happen.

queer people are not inherently safe angels to be around by virtue of being queer. there are still transphobes in queer bars. tranny chasers come to these bars. homophobic lesbians show up and lesbophobic gay men show up. drag queens and performers bring their cishet friends and family to support their shows. these are not perfect havens. they are not safe. we should not force other queers to interact with inherently dangerous spaces if these are supposed to be our safe spaces.

also these spaces are not friendly to people with disabilities; wheelchair users have nowhere to go especially when it's very crowded. other mobility aids get kicked and knocked over. neurodivergent people can get overstimulated by the deafening music very quickly. photosensitive people can have seizures due to the strobing lights. people with emetophobia like me run the risk of running into those types of triggers. people who are overstimulated by intoxicated people have no choice but to deal with it. dancing is one of the only activities to do other than drink and not many disabled (or even abled) people can dance for extended periods of time comfortably.

not to mention these spaces are not geared toward aromantic or asexual people at all, either. there is a long list of reasons why bars should not be our primary venues of interaction with one another. they serve a specific purpose- for people who want to cruise- but for the rest of us, it's really crucial that we have spaces that provide meaningful interactions with other queers on other levels of our identities.

some people just want to hang out with other queers in a quiet environment and craft, or shop, or drink coffee, or read books together, or just about any other activity on planet earth, and that's not "lame" or "cringy" or bad in any way- these are extremely normal and necessary parts of human interaction that we all require and crave and it's normal to want to do healthy, domestic things with other queers. we need this in our lives.

please take it seriously when people attempt to create queer spaces that don't involve alcohol and bars. it's necessary for our survival and well being as a community.

[abysshare]

This is your sign to make an OC by the way.

"Its a mary sue" i Don't Care, Make it.

"I Feel cringy" cringe can be cool too btw. Reclaim cringe. Have fun with it.

"I don't know the lore at all / very well" thats okay !!!!

"It doesn't fit the lore" so? Maybe that can be a new story/plotline

"My OC is my Self insert" HELL YEAH!!!

"My OC is not a Self Insert" HELL YEAH !!!

"I don't know where to start" Picrews, dress up games, etc help me as a base. Its okay to take your time and change the design one to multiple times

"I don't know how to draw/write" its fun, you don't have to know everything i promise. Draw a stick figure. Write a few sentences or a quote.

"I'm afraid of people making fun of me" that is very fair and very valid but please do not let other people control you. Life is short, make something out of it.

"My OC is LGBTQIA+/MOGAI/POC/Disabled/Neurodivergent/Fat/etc" FUCK YEAH??? I LOVE YOU /friendly

"My OC is a Kinsona/Furrysona/TherianSona/Systemsona/Charactersona" THOSE ARE SO COOL AND I WISH TO SEE MORE!!!

"I built an entire AU / original universe with my OCs" you're gonna go places i promise /pos