heya

It’s so fucking infuriatingly frustrating that so many of ao3′s userbase is so adamant that ao3 is nonprofit even though it’s owned by a corporation so that shit is a fucking lie in of itself, like. They invest in stocks and constantly people try and push this stupid as fuck idea that there’s no ads!! :)) it’s free!! when it’s been in beta for literal fucking years with one of the worst filtration and blocking systems I’ve seen to date and rampant disgusting nsfw that’s unregulated and crops up to previews for themes anyways so why do we constantly have to have mile long posts defending such a fundamentally bad website from it’s core instead of actually thinking critically for once I fucking hate all of you.

Normally I ignore this stuff, but the insinuation that AO3 is secretly some manipulative scheme to enrich people is just blatantly false.

Yeah because it is. Look up the Organization for Transformative Works in the IRS database of tax exempt organizations, or GuideStar’s non-profit report listing. EIN 38-3765024, BRIDGE Number 5584273916.

Let’s check out their Form 990 and see how much they paid their staffers:

And it’s a whooping $0.00.

Oh heaven forbid. It’s pretty standard for any moderately-sized nonprofit to make conservative investments, so that their reserves do more than simply accrue interest in a bank account. Nobody is taking a vacation to Comoros on that money.

“Once nonprofits get larger, however, some are able to start thinking for the future. Taking money and putting it toward longer-term goals like capital spending or a permanent endowment requires prudent investment. In order to take initial seed money and grow it into a substantial nest egg for use toward those longer-term charitable purposes, nonprofits are allowed to invest in stocks, bonds, funds, and other typical investments.”

https://www.fool.com/knowledge-center/can-a-nonprofit-organization-invest-in-stock.aspx

Yes, AO3 is part of the Organization for Transformative Works, which is indeed incorporated. Again, pretty standard for a charity. Let’s review the OTW’s Certificate of Incorporation:

Finally… who cares? Gmail was in beta for five years, and that was with all the resources of Google behind it and 100 million people already using it.

“the label is just a way for Google to signal users that they’re still tweaking the e-mail service and adding new features”

Same thing for AO3. The reason AO3 is in beta is because it doesn’t have a finalized codebase and it’s too unstable to make an API out of. They could put out a post tomorrow saying ‘we’re out of beta’ and nobody would bat an eye. The website isn’t perfect, but it’s more than functional. And yes, there are a lot of features that can’t be added without overtaxing the existing hardware resources, so why not try a GreasyFork userscript?

tl;dr - I have to write this every year, but AO3 is still not a scam. It is a non-profit. None of the staffers even get paid. It exists solely for a charitable purpose, a purpose which has been acknowledged and validated by the Internal Revenue Service.

I’m sorry but OP’s “one of the worst filtration and blocking systems“ has me in stitches as if the tagging system on Ao3 wasn’t the envy of libraries, school and universities WORLD-WIDE just because OP has to select the tags to exclude THEMSELF oh no, the horror

marine biology is so scary because it’s such a small field. i was giving a talk on cetaceans and afterward a woman approached me with her husband and she said, “you did very well. [husband’s name] actually pioneered the research and published the first paper on that. We were very impressed by you.”

Which is such a scientific interpretation/public education win I will cherish forever but also for the rest of my life any time I give a talk I will be haunted by the knowledge that the world’s leading expert who literally discovered/invented the topic might be in the room,

which is like, the opposite of what you’re supposed to do for stage fright. In fact I never used to experience stage fright but now I will.

Half Goblin, half Hobbit.

Goblit.

God dammit I did this just for a pun but now I’m imagining this whole backstory where a wounded female goblin flees from some battle and winds up on the edges of the Shire and she’s gonna jump some Hobbit dude named Blinko Tumbrush but Blinko’s so unfailingly polite that his first reaction on seeing someone in a rough situation is to invite them in to dinner and gobbo chick is just like “… uh… ‘kay.”

And then she has dinner and it’s the best thing she’s ever eaten and even her little green brain is able to put together “If I knife this guy so I can take his stuff he can’t cook more of this” so when he asks her to stay the night she’s just like “Fuck yeah breakfast”.

And all the other Hobbits in the area are staring at this new arrival who starts begrudgingly working in the garden (she can pull out the weeds they’d normally have to hitch livestock to) and they’re all thinking “Uhhhhh that’s a fucking Goblin there, chief” except if they actually acknowledge that she’s a goblin then it’s a huge to-do and a lot of excitement and possibly there would be adventure involved in chasing her off. So they just sort of silently, collectively decide they’re going to ignore it and all go “Oh, Blinko finally found himself a lady, how nice, she must be one of the Glumbrushes from over the far side of West Farthing, I always did hear they were on the homely side, not much hair on their feet you know.”

And eventually in due time along comes Korbo Tumbrush and decently cute Hobbit baby but the biggest fucking ears you ever saw on a Hobbit and he’s a bit green and everyone is thinking “That’s a fucking half-Goblin you’ve got there, chief, you fucked a fucking Goblin, you made a baby with a damn Goblin my guy” but this would be an immensely rude thing to say to someone so they’re just like “Oh how nice, Blinko, he looks just like you, has those Glumbrush eyes though.”

And Korbo the Goblit grows up a proper little man in his waistcoat and pipe and every so often someone visits from a different part of the shire and sees this plump green dude with massive flappy pointed ears and they start to open their mouth only for a local to leap right in and go “HAHA YES THAT IS KORBO TUMBRUSH A VERY UPRIGHT HOBBIT WE ALL LOVE KORBO HE’S GLUMBRUSH ON HIS MOTHER’S SIDE (WE THINK) THAT EXPLAINS EVERYTHING!!!” and the visitor just starts nodding along emphatically because this is clearly something that is Not Spoken Of.

I fuckin love it

I. I have to know …

Does Korbo know!? Like is the Gobit aware his momma is a goblin? Or does he just grow up like

“yup us Glumbrushes sure do look different”

He leaves home on an adventure and stumbles n a hoard of goblins marches right up like

“how do ya do fellow hobbits? You know I’m half Glumbrush myself”

Alright, so, Korbo got in a fight once.

Once.

The Tumbrushes are, as a family trade, purveyors of fine pieces of wood. Not of large amounts of lumber, for which Hobbits don’t have a particular lot of call save occasionally, but rather of particularly nice pieces suitable for the making of fine window trimmings, floors, or the occasional carved bit of artwork to be given at a fancy event. Obviously for this one doesn’t go cutting down any tree willy-nilly, and Korbo had spent most of the day out and about looking for suitable trees.

(Korbo also personally assisted in cutting them down, being rather well known as on the strong side for a Hobbit, wink wink, nudge nudge.)

Having put in a genuine hard day’s work and rather pleased with himself, Korbo retired to the local bar to have a few beers and a smoke and to partake in good company, all of whom had gotten so used to pretending there was nothing odd about him that it was almost as if there was genuinely nothing odd about him.

Until along comes Humdil Thumbletoe.

Now the Thumbletoes were what was known in the Shire as “experts on genealogy”. This might sound like quite a good thing when you consider how well-versed most Hobbits are in their family lines, until you consider that most Hobbits are already well-versed in their family lines. A Hobbit being thoroughly knowledgeable of their family tree is not much to be remarked upon, so when it is remarked upon it is more to mean that the Hobbits in question are such tremendous mooches that they have had to dive far more deeply into their bloodlines looking for more relatives to leech off of than any Hobbit would generally consider polite.

Humdil was fairly brawny as Hobbits go, which was about all you could say for him. In fact Humdil had realized that was really all that could be said for him and had become a bit of a bully. And so it was he entered the bar that night with a very put-upon third cousin twice removed (by marriage) and caught sight of Korbo for the first time.

“Why, look at that one!” he bellowed, guffawing. “He’s so ugly his mother had to have been a Goblin, ey!”

The whole bar goes quiet. Aside from the obvious abominable rudeness of this, Humdil has said the thing that is never supposed to be said, and is clearly too stupid to realize he’s right. All heads slowly turn to Korbo.

Now, it is well known that Korbo has inherited his father’s tendency to never give a single solitary hairy-toed fuck about anything. He has currently been in the running to be at least the second most chill dude to ever be born in the Shire. And indeed, right now he’s still looking perfectly calm, puffing on his pipe. He sets the pipe aside, finishes off the last of his beer, and stands up.

“Sir, we’ll be needing to step outside.”

Now Hobbits are mostly a peaceable lot, not given to wars or fighting for any old thing, but a bit of fisticuffs outside the bar is hardly unheard of. Mostly everyone is kind of nervous about this because they’re still not sure how Korbo is reacting to this whole Goblin thing. So someone takes Korbo’s jacket and Humdil’s third cousin twice removed (by marriage) grudgingly takes his, and the two square off.

Now, Humdil was a big Hobbit, it was true, but there were a few things that, being a moron who didn’t realize he was right, and who had never been outside the Shire or seen a Goblin anyway, he could not possibly know.

For one, Goblins have long, spindly arms, giving them a surprisingly good reach for their size… not abominably long, certainly not in the case of a half-Goblin, and certainly not above being concealed by the cut of a well-tailored shirt. Second, they are compact, wiry creatures, with dense muscle over their otherwise lanky forms, and given to that a Hobbit’s already greater mass and the anchoring benefit of large, wide feet, well.

The moment Humdil stepped forward and started to swing, Korbo’s fist shot out like one of Gandalf’s better rockets and struck him directly in the nose. His flight was also, for some weeks after, compared to one of Gandalf’s rockets, though not quite as far and the explosion at the end was mostly him laying on the ground cursing wetly due to all the blood streaming from his nose.

Korbo apologizes profusely to all and sundry for the disturbance, collected his jacket, and goes home. Honey is out picking mushrooms (still being of the more nocturnal persuasion after all these years), but Blinko’s sitting by the fire reading a book. Korbo sees that there’s a newspaper (full of lots of extremely important things like how the pipeweed was growing and which barrels of beer were going to be uncasked that month), so picks it up and sits down to read.

“Evening, Da.”

“Evening, son. Pleasant evening out?”

“Oh, fine. Save for I broke Humdil Thumbletoes’s nose for him.”

“Hm, hm, I see. Why did you feel the need to do that?”

“Well, he called Ma a Goblin, you see.”

Blinko slowly lowers his book, and slowly raises his head. Looks at Korbo for long moments. Raises one eyebrow a little.

“Son. You know full well your mother is a Goblin.”

“Well, yes, but he didn’t know that, and he said it as an insult anyway so it being true or not doesn’t really matter that much, does it?“

“Hm, hm. I suppose that’s true at the end of the day, isn’t it?”

Blinko goes back to reading his book. Korbo continues reading the paper.

“You could have stabbed him,” Blinko eventually notes.

“Aye, could have stabbed him,” Korbo agrees easily enough. “But it’s a bit of a mess, isn’t it?”

“True, true, probably would have been a bit of a mess in the road, not very thoughtful to the community,” Blinko allows.

And that was the end of it.

I love all of this so much. Also-

“Sir, we’ll be needing to step outside.”

The power. I set down my drink after that one.

Oddly enough, one might expect Korbo to have trouble finding a lady hobbit. He’s not given to being as plump as his fellows, and his feet are a bit small, and he’s rather, well, tall for a hobbit, isn’t he. And green. Always looks a bit like he’s eaten something that didn’t agree with him.

But he runs into Hilda Greebrook one day in town, and she’s lost her favorite pipe, which is of course a tragedy of the highest order. It’s not unheard of for a lady to smoke, but it isn’t particularly encouraged, either, and so the general reaction is “you poor dear, perhaps it’ll turn up, hadn’t you best be getting home for luncheon?”

Korbo, however, stops to help her look for the pipe, and when it’s nowhere to be found he offers to make her another just like it, if she can tell him what precisely made it so special that it was a favorite, for after all a favorite must be distinguishable by something.

Unfortunately the thing that distinguishes it is that she got it from Gandalf and it’s quite unlike most pipes in the Shire, so recreating it is quite the task. But Korbo sets himself to it anyway, working a bit each night and handing it to Hilda daily to see if it feels quite right, and six months later he’s done it—recreated a pipe that came from the world of men, or perhaps elves, but certainly not that of hobbits.

Hilda for her part discovers Korbo quite likes to read, and though he’s from a reasonably well-to-do family—for hobbits are always in need of new toys and fancy party decorations after all—can’t get his hands on books fast enough to satisfy himself, and, well, her da’s a transcriber, someone’s got to write out the papers after all, and she’s got access to practically every book in the Shire, and ways to make copies besides.

At first people think it’s odd, a hobbit who can’t see asking to borrow books, but then they find out Korbo is involved and asking questions could lead to excitement and so they absolutely do not ask and simply offer up their histories and books of poetry and hobbit folklore (for even without want for excitement there are things it’s good to remember, and things every hobbit child should know so they, too, can grow up properly plump and staying well away from adventure), and resign themselves to never seeing their books again.

And then they find that far from their books quite disappearing, they return in fine form—albeit usually in a timeframe rather too long to be polite—but oddly quite a lot seem to have tiny bits of wood shavings in, although one wouldn’t expect it in a hobbit home? And THEN Hoptus Redbranch finds Korbo one day in his workshop, he’s just stopped by for the wood to repair a door after an unfortunate incident with attempting to remove a colony of bees and rather too much smoke for the moving of bees, and Korbo is simply. Pressing small pieces of hot iron into a very thin piece of wood, making small triangle patterns like no hobbit decoration Hoptus has ever seen, and he’s quite frequently checking into a book on his left that turns out to be one of Hoptus’ own books, and very carefully turning the pages with a cloth so as to not get oil from the hot iron all over the pages—

—and THEN, not long after the news of Korbo’s strange woodburning activities have spread across most of the Shire (and caused no small amount of consternation, because goblins are clever but so often the things they make are cruel and the cause of ever so much unpleasantness), Hilda is seen in her own garden with Korbo with a stack of these thin pieces of wood all carefully hinged together, running her fingers over carefully sanded and varnished pieces and feeling the triangles and reciting a hobbit tale.

For all those months of strangely disappeared books, Korbo has been translating Westron into an alphabet that can be read with one’s fingers, and making Hilda books, and teaching her to read them.

Nobody is entirely surprised, after about three years, when the two of them vanish for a few months, and come back quite married.

Within a few generations, this is absolutely going to be a thing Not Worth Remarking Upon. So when a young hobbit finds themselves accidentally ripping the knobs off doors when they’re cross, their parents will sigh and the elder hobbits in the village will remark that ‘that’ll be the Glumbrush in ‘im coming through, I told you his ears were a little bigger than his siblings, didn’t I?’ much the same as they always did on Bilbo and Frodo’s Took relations and the resulting hankering for adventure.

Were anyone from the outside to visit the Shire, they’d find a small colony of goblins thoroughly intermarried and also avoiding the usual goblin tendencies towards stabbing, so long as no one is so gauche as to insult them for being goblins.

(Sooner or later, one very flustered hobbit is going to accidentally do the same thing with an orc.)

The Tumbrushes, as with all Hobbits, were quite proud of their work, and rightly so. Their works are fine, of the highest quality, and they fetch the appropriate price for their labors, making them quite well-to-do. In the Shire, wealth breeds respect, of course, and so the Tumbrushes are quite well respected.

And yet there’s a difference between “well to do” and “scandalously wealthy.”

So when, when Blinko Tumbrush recieved a letter inviting them to the Baggins residence for tea, he of course brought his wife and son along.

Now, Korbo had crossed paths with Bilbo Baggins a time or two in the market, never for much longer than the time required for Polite Conversation, and so wasn’t expecting much. Sure, everyone knew Bilbo was odd, and were willing to talk about it, since Bilbo made no effort to hide his adventures and had, on numerous occasions, commented on visiting the elves or poking around the mountains, but they were in the Shire, no adventure in sight, and so this should be a normal, proper visit between client and craftsman.

And then Bilbo opened the door, pipe in hand, took the three of them in, and said, quite out of nowhere, “Ah, Shoebiter clan.”

Honey Tumbrush, late of the Shoebiter clan of the Misty Mountains, smiled with all her teeth and replied “Dragon thief!”

Bilbo guffawed and waved them inside, offering them hospitality in the goblin tongue, with the guarantee of safety and threat of violence that implied. They had arrived in time for second breakfast, and didn’t leave until past dinner, having hammered out a contract and shared many a story.

Blinko Tumbrush had only one thing to say as he walked home, arm in arm with his wife and son trailing behind. “He’s an odd fellow, that Bilbo, but nice enough. Yes, nice enough indeed.”

I love them

Gets better and better every time I see it

What was removed?! Which guidelines did it violate? This post was complete last time I saw it.

Here’s my art that apparently was too much for tumblr!

The girls are exeeerrrcising

don't hide your tags bestie this is so cute

farcille isn't "toxic yuri." nothing remotely toxic about them, they both treat each other with a great deal of care and affection and respect. just because marcille is willing to do forbidden necromancy and arguably cannibalism for her wife doesn't make her toxic that's just what you do for a woman with broad shoulders

Back when I used to walk around my college in a corduroy blazer and slacks I didn't call it "dark academia" I called it "professor drag" and the purpose was to smoothly walk into parts of campus I wasn't supposed to access

what the fuck did I just download

Context: I downloaded what's called simply "Encyclopedia of Religion" by Lindsay Jones because I found some articles online and they seemed well written in the style I like. I was like, okay, it must be one of those thick reference books, like, 500 pages long.

No. Apparently it's a 15-volume masterwork made by what I think are a hundred experts covering everything from Muslim Sufism to the Hindu Vedas to Slavic gods to the beliefs of the peoples of the Chaco to recent Afro-American religious movments to the structure of the papacy to Selkam religion and back. There are even individual articles on animals like bears and cats. It's honestly scary.

God must be in there, somewhere.

Bro just the preface + list of contents + list of contributors is 100 pages. I still haven't reached the index.

There's a Japanese dude who wrote articles about foxes, toads and frogs, hedgehogs, cocks (direct quote..). There's also articles about.., just reading titles: scholasticism, a lot of Muslim terms I'm not familiar with, theriantropism, that weird Japanese cult who did those sarin attacks, ancient canaaite religion, humor and islam, Jenovah's Witnesses, Gender in Celtic religions, an overview of prehistoric religion, and a lot of things I have never heard about. This is all from different collaborators listed on the same page.

This is just the table of contents. The encyclopedia starts in page 152.

This is scary. Did God write this.

If you want a link, you can find it on Anna's Archive by searching Encyclopedia of Religion, apparently by the Macmillan Library Reference.

It's 170mbs. I am not responsible if your PC crashes.

The thing is that every single article, even if it's half a page short (and they're all well written) has annotated bibliography and primary sources on it. You could seriously get lost forever here.

Customer: *Squilliam voice* On your lunch break, Squiddy? Employee: *Squidward voice* Squilliam Fancyson from band class?! Customer: Still playing the cash register, are we? *Squilliam laugh*

This thread is gold

it frustrates me to see people saying modern Gale would be an AI bro. Modern Gale would hate AI because there is no soul in it, no creativity; it is attempting to 'solve' art with math and he would find that stifling and depressing.

GORTASH IS THE AI BRO stop robbing him of his title. He would be blackmailing people with ai-cloned voices and likenesses, living his best life.

Welcome to my humble abode, my distinguished guest, ûsbu Ngomdông. As you know, you came into my care when you and your compatriots stormed my fort, in an attempt to slaughter civilians and kidnap children. We do not take kindly to these things, I'm afraid. Dwarves are a vengeful lot, and we have chosen to make an example of you.

You will find the room that we've prepared for you to be sparse, at best. The door is barred, and I assure you that it's of the sturdiest dwarven craftsmanship. I'm sure that you know that your kind are immortal. You will live forever in this room. For the rest of eternity, these four crumbling sand walls are all that you will know.

But, I'm a merciful woman. In front of you, you will see a lever. If pulled, the lever will open the steel floodgate to your right, flooding the room with lava and destroying you down to the cell. This isn't simply your single means of escape--this is the only thing that you can do. There's nothing else for you here. There will be no rescue.

How long will it take for you to tire of the tedium of meaningless immortality and destroy yourself? Minutes? Days? Millennia?

I look forward to learning the answer, Mr. Ngomdông.

this was a great read. “Laziness Does Not Exist” by Devon Price

Begin image ID. Text reads “If a person can’t get out of bed, something is making them exhausted. If a student isn’t writing papers,  there’s some aspect of the assignment that they can’t do without help. If an employee misses deadlines constantly, something is making organization and deadline-meeting difficult. Even if a person is actively choosing to self-sabotage, there’s a reason for it – some fear they’re working through, some need not being met, a lack of self-esteem being expressed.

People do not choose to fail or disappoint. No one wants to feel incapable, apathetic, or ineffective. If you look at a persons’ action (or inaction) and see only laziness, you are missing key details. There is always an explanation. There are always barriers. Just because you can’t see them, or don’t view them as legitimate, doesn’t mean they’re not there. Look harder.” End image ID.

you may not like it, but this is the current Elden Ring pvp meta

bro the pose?????

you may not like it, but this is the current Elden Ring pvp meta

bro the pose?????