#i do appreciate feedback!

[faededaway]

𝔻𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕤 ℤ𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕪 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 [𝟙𝟠+, 𝕞𝕕𝕟𝕚]

[1k words, backstory, power imbalance, voyeur + noncon + kidnapping(?) + no sex +gn]

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT: DARK CONTENT: NONCON!!!!!!!!

Perhaps, you're lucky. Out of 400 trainees, you were unlikely to make top 10. If you didn't make top 10, you'd be stuck in the Garrison. That would be more humiliating than being unemployed. Survey corps wasn't even an option. To you, the world within the walls is big enough.

So when the premier himself, called you out of the stampede of 200 other trainees running towards who knows what (a finish line so far, you'd forgotten it existed), you didn't question it. You should have, at least, asked him 'why me'. You weren't even aware he was watching. Is this something he did regularly? Was his palace life that idle and boring?

With a glance, he ordered you to follow him. He walked to his carriage, parked not too far away from the training ground. It's almost like he could have watched from the windows if he wanted. The only officer awaiting the premier, held the carriage door open after he climbed in. You took that as a sign to get in.

You can't recall the exact conversation that followed. What you do recall is the feeling of his grey eyes raking over your body. At that time, you were sure it was because of your dishevelled state. Sweat dripped down your forehead and soaked your shirt.

“Do you want to work in the palace?”, you're sure he'd asked.

“Of course! It's the most prestigious job one could have!”, you'd said and then gasped and stuttered out an apology when you realized you may have offended his job position. You didn't mean to call military officers more important than the premier. It's just a very honorable job!

He'd laughed and cut you off. Next thing he said might've been something like, “well, that's a shame. I came to offer you a job. But I don't think you'd want such a dishonorable one.”

"No! Of course not! I mean, no, yes! No, not no! But, yes! I, I do! I do want the job! Your job! No, not your job! But, I mean,” you'd almost sank to your knees and grovelled before he cut you off again. His laughter swelled his chest this time, you felt it vibrate in yours too.

“You sure? The job I'm offering is a lot more demanding than one of a military officer's. I picture you to be sore more often than not,” his eyes raked your body once again as his lips curled into a sinister smile.

You thought he saw you as weak. Maybe you were weak. But a job with the premier was bound to pay a lot. Right?

“I am most grateful that the premier is offering me a job! I cannot think of any reason to decline the offer, sir.”

“Oh? You sure you don't want to ask any questions?”, he teased again.

“No, sir!”

He'd laughed and knocked on the window. That was when you looked around the carriage and saw your luggage sitting by his feet. Did he know you'd say yes or did you not have a choice in the matter? Sadly, these questions only came to you once the carriage was on the move.

The carriage had taken you deeper into the walls than you'd ever been. Life within Wall Sina looked like a different nation with buildings taller than you'd ever seen and clothes as bright as the flowers in the fields you grew up in.

The trip from the Training Corp to Wall Sina was long enough for you to ask about your job but it was the premier who asked you questions instead.

Some questions seemed to be related to your job, “are you an early riser? Do you prefer to be told what to do or to do things on your own?”

Others sounded like filler questions, “do you have a pet? What do you think of collars?”

Then there were some questions which had to be a test of some sort, “do you think thoughts normal people don't? Do you find it hard to fit in?”

So many questions later, you were more puzzled about this job than before. Nothing told you what he had in mind for you.

“This is were you will do most of your work. I need you to be at arm's reach at all times so you will follow where I go. For now, welcome to my residence.”

That was the first thing you learned about your job. The carriage had brought you straight to the premier's home.

The premier stepped out of the carriage first and, to your surprise, held out hand to help you out. You had, of course, thanked him for his generosity while accepting his help. Later, his hand moved to your back while giving you a tour of his house.

The layout of the house was like any average posh house. The entrance lead to a hallway which introduced the living room. A kitchen and dining hall were next. The walls and floors had carved wood panels and every chair looked good enough to sleep on. A vase sat everywhere a case could sit. A tapestry lay everywhere a tapestry could lay. It was a lavish home. He lead you upstairs where all the bedrooms were, carrying your luggage himself.

“You can call this space yours for now,” he spoke once reaching the last door in the similarly lavish corridor. He urged you to open the door and waited for you to walk in first.

Compared to what you saw downstairs, it was a modest room. It held nothing more than the necessities: a bed, a dresser, and a chair. It was, perhaps, the size of the room that made it look more bare than it was.

A light thud of your bag meeting the floor followed these words, “the room right next to yours is my study. One across that is my room. All other rooms are bare.”

He paused for a moment before looking down at you, not moving his hand away from your back, “I will give you one last chance to ask questions. Any question about this job.”

An almost stoic look overtook his features. For a second, you wanted to flee. But you gathered yourself before saying, “I- I trust the premier knows my capabilities. I will do as you say and I will do them to the best of my, my abilities.”

The smile in his eyes didn't match the tone of his voice when he said, “naïve lamb, you trust me? Don't ever say I didn't give you a choice.”

He pulled away then, making a show of flicking dirt off of his clothes, “you need a wash first. Walk with me.”

Shame ran through your face. He was right but his tone embarrassed you, somehow making you feel worse than Keith Shadis's taunts.

In your predicament, you failed to notice how the door to your room had no locks on the inside but had a bolt on the outside.

Strangely, it's his bedroom that he walks into. When inside, he walks through another door which opens to a bathroom. There lay what looked to be a bucket, large enough to fit a person, filled with water. A stool with soap and towels stood next to it.

“Get in.”

You weren't sure what the premier meant. Surely, he didn't mean-

“Take off your clothes and get in the tub,” he said in a gentler tone, walking towards the exit.

Seeing him walk away, you reached for the buttons on your shirt. You were eager to be presentable before the premier.

All your clothes laid on the floor when you sat in the bucket. Its contents spilled over, soaking your only change of clothes. You couldn't care for it then, basking in the warmth.

You took your time in the water. Rubbing your sore limbs and cleaning your crevices. You really did want to appear proper in front of the man who chose you out of 200 others and brought you to be ... Well, you weren't sure what your job was.

You thought about every possible position you could fill for him, a secretary, a maid, a peon, a clerk, an accountant, a... A friend? All options you thought of had equal possibilities. So you shook your head, deciding it wasn't worth mulling over.

Only when the water ran cold, you got out of your small pond. You reached for the towel on the stool to dry yourself and noticed it barely covered your important bits.

Thankfully, you recalled seeing a folded robe on a shelf near the door. So, you wrap the towel around yourself to the best of your abilities and then around to go retrieve it.

You wished you didn't turn around.

You couldn't see the robe from where you stood, because the premier was standing before it.

It took you several moments to realize he hadn't left the room at all. A shrill shriek left your chest as your arms covered your body.

The premier laughed in the same boisterous manner you witnessed before and strode over towards you, “and here I thought you were so smart. Thought you were diligently doing your duties.”

You tried to take a step back but the premier grabbed hold of your towel, “move and this goes away.”

You stood shaking before him. The premier looked over you like he had done in the carriage and in that moment, the signs fell into place.

From your first interaction with him, you mind pushed away all the signs thinking someone like the premier could never be so immoral. All of the corps look up to him; he's Dot Pyxis's best friend. And Dot Pyxis looked out for his delegates. There's no way that this was real.

"Little lamb," your stomach curled at the sweet tone he used. It contradicted what he was doing to you.

He cupped your face in his palm, holding you in place while his other hand lightly grazed your bare back. "You weren't made for the military police. The scary military seniors would have your meat by the very first week."

Oh, you believed his words. You were not cut out for any of this. You had no clue what this life was like. You had no clue what these scouts were like. You should have never left your village.

"Ooh, yes! I knew you would sound like an angel when you cry. Yes, let it all out," he groaned at your sobs. This man openly enjoyed seeing you in distress. The more you sobbed, the more his eyes gleamed. He cooed and awed at you instead of soothing you, I'll teach you. I'll tell you all about how bad and scary this world is. All you have to do in return, is cry for me just like this."

You didn't want to please him. You wanted to hold back your cries, but you couldn't help yourself. They left your chest in heaves making you choke and gasp for air. The premier breathing matched yours, erratic and frantic. He was holding you up now, since your body had given up on you. He caged you in his arms, a hand holding your head before his eyes so he wouldn't miss any quiver on your lips or the tear streaks on your face.

You tried to push him away, you tried to. But it only excited him. He pressed your body onto his and rutted against you,"oh, my little angle, my sweet, sweet, angel. Yes! Yes! You're doing so well! Try harder, angel. You can try harder."

You felt his hardness against your stomach. His warmth touched your skin like a burn. You did try harder. You used your fists to punch at his face, your nails to scratch him, and even your knees to try and hurt him. The harder you tried, the harder he rubbed against your body. Nothing you did stopped him. So you did the only thing you hadn't done so far, "please, premier, I don't want this. Please stop!"

You pleaded with him

And he stopped. He stopped chasing his high and let go of you.

You thought to yourself, 'was this all I needed to say all along?' You wished you said it earlier.

But your relief turned to fear when you heard the sound of his belt coming undone.

With a guttural growl, the premier ripped off your towel and covered your body in his cum.

In that moment, you thought about the irony of taking the shower to look presentable for him when he was the one to sully your body. There was nothing you could've done to stop him. You had already made the wrong choice a long time ago. You reached for the towel he threw on the floor but he interrupted you, "you need another cleaning, angel."

Your knees hit the floor then. From your peripheral, you saw thick, big arms reached for your defeated body.

He kneeled next to you, wiping your face clean with his thumb, "the world is a big scary place. Men like me are everywhere. But you don't need to worry abou t them anymore. They can't touch you when you're with me."

Then, he bathed you.

The man that sullied you, bathed you and dressed you in clothes he bought for you. Even when he tucked you in bed and kissed your forehead,"sleep well. You have much to do tomorrow," you didn't have it in you to push back.

Since the moment he laid his eyes on you, he knew he had you. Now, you knew it too.

[littlecrittereli]

Wanted to doodle some comfort bros to balance out the angst of my recent posts lol

Hey pookies! Just wanted to say I really appreciate all the love and support I've been receiving lately for Decoded! I always love your comments/asks/fanart/memes, it genuinely has been bringing me so much joy and I'm so grateful for it <3

I know I said I had a lot of art to post (and then proceeded to post none of it LOL) I'm just a little overwhelmed rn with some life stuff so sorry for the wait! I also have a lot asks that I haven't gotten to and I apologize for that as well!

Trying my best to keep up, but I haven't had a lot of time recently. Art's gonna be a little delayed, but don't worry Chapter 8 is still gonna come out this Saturday as scheduled!

[demonsascent]

trying new poses… thoughts?

[aquared]

midnight crew based / inspired kids or something

i have been spinning them around in my head like a microwave for 3 days now and they make me so happy

their names are jack ( original i know ), coby , dean , and hyde respectively methinks

EDIT : IF U SEE THIS DONT REBLOG THIS ONE REBLOG THE RESPRITES FROM MY ALT THEYRE WAY BETTER !!!! WAY WAY BETTER ! https://www.tumblr.com/apochryphalantithesis/740274504979382272/i-love-editing-their-outfits-theyre-like-little

[vigilante24ish]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Words: 1699

Chapter 3

The sun had almost set by the time you found yourself in Westview, the paper with Agatha's adress tucked into your pants' pocket.

You walked the empty road, feeling eyes on you behind pulled curtains. The neighbours were uneasy, having chosen to lock themselves into their houses; but you could not blame them.

If what Agatha said was true and had managed to gather a coven, those poor people must have seen a few odd figures heading the same way as you.

Witches could not help it. They always had this aura, making them easier to stand out. Sometimes, their energy was enough to make someone have this uneasy feeling deep within their guts; though being as ignorant to the supernatural, they could never truly understand why.

At last, you reached the house that seemed to belong to Agatha.

The first thing you noticed was the lack of a door, but you speculated that some unfriendly visitor had found Agatha earlier that day. It would explain this sudden and urgent need to go down the Road in such short notice.

Stepping inside, you could hear voices in the background; indicating that you might be the last one to arrive. Your eyes barely glanced at the rather odd decoration of the house. None of it was screaming Agatha; you knew cause you had lived with her even for a short amount of times.

"Wait," you heard the voice of the teenage boy calling, putting a pause at the overlapping voices of the other witches. "We are one witch short," he pointed out, clearly talking about you.

You decided to make yourself present by letting your steps sound a little harder against the wooden floor, earning different pair of eyes on your form.

"No, you are not," you corrected him, one hand in your pocket.

You quickly scanned the room, sensing the different magical signatures while quickly studying them as well.

They were very different from one another, from their ages to their outfits and, of course, their magic affinity.

Yet again, it was often needed for a coven to be diverse. Though you could not help but wonder if such intense diversity would actually work, the tension between the witches and Agatha was thick enough to almost be visible.

"Sugar," Agatha greeted with a small smirk, not caring that she used your nickname in public.

She never hesitated to do it before, even though you had tried to argue a lot of times. You preferred privacy, and such nicknames, in your opinion, should exist behind close rooms and during intimate moments between two people.

Of course, Agatha never truly took into consideration your opinion and continued. There was something powerful, possessive even when she was the only one to call you such a name. Not to mention, it showed others that in a way, you were hers; some sort of invisible claim that warned others not to test their luck.

Agatha had not changed ever since, at least with that part. Despite the years you two had spent away, despite the rather unknown nature of your relationship; she still kept claiming you, often impressing even herself with ways she could find.

She studied you for a moment as your eyes connected and took notice of your outfit. While other witches chose dresses, skirts, or hippie pants; you went to the other side of the spectrum.

You had chosen a white professional shirt whose shade was bright enough to draw attention from afar. However, that was the only white thing on you.

Your buttoned up vest had white lines, but the base was black, a matching shade with your well tailored pants. Even your tie was at the colour of black, giving you a more unisex and professional look.

Needles to say you had impressed her, since for centuries you were a big fan of simple white clothing. You barely chose any other colour to wear, always having a strong connection to the bright shade.

Yet here you were now, the dark on you, almost fully covering you; the darkness of your solitude and hurt past casting a shadow to your once brighter and naive self.

It tempted Agatha, curious for a moment to test your reaction by having her hand drag across your body; testing if you would stop her when she would try unbutton your vest and take off your tie...oh, and what she could do to you with that tie.

The intense staring and sudden silence had drawn curious looks on you, some wondering what your connection to the dark Witch that had gathered them all.

The moment was interrupted by Lilia, who had been watching between the two of you until her mind and gaze trailed off.

"Two of swords!" She gasped, earning everyone's attention on her.

She did not say anything else, as if she was not conscious she had said anything or not. That alone quickly made you realize which role she played in this coven, a divination witch that was always needed in almost every mission; especially one as dangerous as the one you all had chosen to participate in.

Before any more questions or comments could be thrown, Agatha clapped her hands once.

"Well, gang's all here. Let's hit The Road." She said, trying to change the topic.

However, Jen was not done yet. "Wait," she exclaimed, and Agatha immediately knew this was not going to be good. "Where's our Green Witch?"

"Oh, do we really need one of those?"

"Of course we do." Jen argued and then looked at you. "Unless you are a Green Witch, though you definitely don't look like one," She continued, her tone judging you as did their eyes; going up and down your form.

"I am not," you corrected her, unfazed by her gaze.

You had this passive expression on your face, a cold mask that nothing could truly penetrate. Your aura was calm but hid danger behind it, like a dark peaceful sea whose waters were far deeper than they looked; dangerous creatures lurking within, waiting.

Your answer only fueled the argument between Jen and Agatha, one insisting on the importance of a Green Witch and the other arguing there was no need.

Eventually, Teen joined by referring to one member they had not invited from the list; a black heart.

This made you arch an eyebrow and look at Agatha, who at that moment did the mistake of looking at you as well.

Once again, you quickly saw right through her facade and saw both the fear and annoyance she tried so hard to hide. Whoever this black heart meant to represent was a deep scar from Agatha's past; one she did not wish to bring up.

In the end, Agatha left; excusing herself she was going to bring back the last member so they could all start the ritual and open the door to the Road.

The moment she left, the main attention fell on you; each individual in the room had different thoughts, but you were part of all of them.

In the end, it was the boy who chose to speak up. "Wait, I am confused." he even lifted his hand, like a student asking permission from the teacher to voice his question. "Jen is Potions, Lilia is Divination, Alice is Protection... what are you?"

Jen nodded her head. "The boy is right. What are you?"

That judging look once again.

It made you wonder if she looked at others the same or she felt both offended but also threatened by your presence.

It would not be the first time a witch had reacted negatively against you, especially once they realised your affiliation. Your type was not often welcomed, the duality of your nature often a wildcard that no one wished to possess.

"Backup," you explained, choosing to remain vague with your answer.

There was no need to go into detail, at least not now. You barely knew one another, and it was evident there was no trust between any of you. A common goal brought you forward, but it was not kindness or the need to find a coven.

It was selfish, and you knew that too well. Even your reasons for joining could be considered selfish.

After all, no one else chose to walk the Road unless they had a deep selfish goal in mind. Ironically, this one was what was tested the most during the trials that awaited down the Wicked Path.

You turned to the boy, realizing he was still confused by your presence. Sure, your name was on the list, but you did not seem to be part of the main four needed; according to both the Ballad and Agatha.

"To walk down the Road, you need four basic witch paths to help you and also unlock the door. Anything else is extra help, " you explained, your tone slightly softer

You could not help it. Just by seeing into his dark, innocent eyes, your defences dropped. He was a young boy, too young to choose such a path, and it made you wonder what he truly needed to take such a decision.

Jen opened her mouth to argue when Agatha walked into the room, dragging with her an older woman.

You could immediately tell she was a human woman, no drop of magic within her, and something told you the others realised that too.

Looking at Agatha, you saw her silently asking you to remain quiet on the topic, and you obeyed. Though deep down, you could not help but wonder how this would truly work.

A green witch would be needed for the trial, and only after it was passed, she would no longer be of need.

You did wonder how this would work out, but your trail of thoughts was interrupted by the faint sound of a wold howling. Your head immediately snapped to the side, eyes distantly gazing out the window as the darkness of the night covered the sky.

Agatha must have realised it, too, for she clapped her hands yet again. "No time to waste, vamos!" She said and started to walk towards the stairs leading to her basement, leaving you all no choice but to follow.

Chapter 4

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Do you like my art? Do you wish I would draw something specific? Great news!

~COMMISSIONS ARE NOW OPEN!~

If you are interested in commissioning me, please fill out the google form and I'll reach out to you as slots become available!

[Ko-fi - Google Form Link]

[nyssasatelier]

Two things:

1. YOU ARE GORGEOUS 😍

2. YOUR POSEIDON IS ALSO GORGEOUS THAT I WOULD GIVE HIM EVEN MYSELF AS OFFER

Bonus:

[woolieshubris]

So, you've been sent bait: A Guide for Internet Posters and Readers

Disclaimer: I am simply an autistic internet poster with a special interest in human interaction, abuse patterns, and internet culture. I am not a scholar and I do not have a degree in these things. While I have done research into the topics of cancellation, online abuse, and harassment, I am far from an expert.

Introduction:

I've seen this happen dozens of times before. A semi popular blogger will suddenly seem embroiled in a controversial topic, receiving harassment and accusations of some pretty terrible things. It goes on for about 24-72 hours, and then poof, it seems to be completely over, (however, of course, it can be brought up again without warning.) This can be emotionally damaging for the blogger, for the supporters of that blogger, and for the shock waves it will undoubtedly send into the greater community. This also further spreads discourse and popularizes harmful ideologies to people who might have previously never heard of them. The targets are almost always trans women, (with transmisogyny doing most of the cancellation legwork) and it seems to always have the goal of turning fellow trans people against the target. (Though, of course, I've seen this done with autistic creators, nonbinary creators, ect. Trans women are just the most popular target.)

Now, the goal of this guide is to help people understand how this happens, be able to recognize the patterns of a targeted harassment campaign, and be able to try and prevent it in the future. I'll be writing this as a guide to the target, however, I think it's important for lurkers/readers to also be able to recognize these patterns so they too can avoid being manipulated into falling into these pitfalls. A large portion of this harassment initiative is to use "useful idiots" in order to do most of the legwork. As a reader, you must avoid becoming a useful idiot, (which I'll be referring to as fools from now on) and you must be able to tell when other people are being used in this manner as well. This is the most effective way to protect people from unwarranted harassment campaigns.

Section 1: Bait

Types of Bait:

You've been sent bait, but you aren't sure if it is actually bait, or a genuine question from a fan. You don't want to ignore someone's valid concern, so you answer it even though you might not be sure. This is your first mistake! If you think it might be bait, it's best to treat it as such. Think of bait asks as toxic waste. If you aren't sure, it's much better to be safe than sorry. If you receive a bait ask, your best bet is to delete it and not respond at all. Yes, it will probably rattle you, and you'll probably feel bad about deleting the question, but you need to understand that it doesn't matter. If this person was asking a genuine question, they would understand if you don't want to answer. If they get annoyed or angry at your lack of answer- they were likely asking it with the intent to hurt you.

The first type of bait is bringing up a controversial topic.

While certain topics (like queer rights, abortion, Palestinian freedom) do actually matter in the real world and I would believe are worth responding to or making your position clear (as long as it is something you do have an opinion on) this does not mean all controversial topics are equal. Many topics that are "hot debates" online do not matter in the real world. (for example, proship vs antiship). Regardless of the validity of the debate, if it doesn't matter in the real world, it likely isn't worth publicly stating your opinion on those things. That is why people who are active in those movements try to make these things seem like they have real world consequences- to try and make their debate more valid and easier to pull more people into. The real goal with many of these topics is not to try and have a reasonable discussion. The goal is to try and pull as many people into them as possible. If they can successfully get ANY response out of you, then they win. Their debate is now broadcasted on your platform. Their thoughts, arguments, philosophies are now spread to thousands of people instantly. Even if you respond with an answer like "huh?" "what?" or "what does this mean???" they still win. Your acknowledgement of the debates existence at ALL is a win for them. They get to publicly platform their beliefs on your profile. If you respond at all and express even the slightest hint of an opinion, then they will have an entire section of fools that can now send you messages about this topic. Death by a thousand paper cuts. This is the most common type of bait, and the reason is simple. Internet debates can suck in people and can quickly rot peoples brains. Like sleeper agents, people will automatically start trying to chime in the moment they see the hints of any debate. If you fall for this debate, the best thing to do is delete everything, block main players and wait it out. With any luck, it will be completely forgotten by the end of the week.

The second type of bait is an accusation.

Again, while some allegations or accusations are worth responding to, if it is completely false, not responding will be your best bet. If you do respond at all, the allegation and your name will be linked in peoples minds. Even if you deny it, people will be confused as to why it was brought up at all. They might even think that you are lying or deflecting. Responding to the accusation at all is treated as a confession. If this accusation is something you've heard before, it would be worth looking into the source of the claim- someone might be spreading lies about you. However, if this accusation is something you've never received before, it is almost certainly bait. They are trying to make you look bad. Just delete them. If this is something you are receiving from a specific person, ask them about it privately. Never respond to false accusations on your public platform unless you know the source of the accusations. If you have to respond to them, you need to link to the accusation in full, not vaguely describe them. When you vaguely describe them, then you are putting the duty on the readers to find the accusation- they'll read it on the accusers terms- putting the ball directly into the accusers court. If your reader reads it directly from the accusers, then it will automatically make your refutation look dubious by comparison. Make it easy for the reader to see the full accusation and point out the absurdity of the claims. By laying out all of the information clearly, the readers will be able to easily figure out that the claims were bogus. In future confrontations, your supporters will likely even respond to the accusers for you, now that they fully understand the arguments against you. Supporters love to correct people, and this can help you significantly- just as much as it can hurt. It's a double edged sword, so if you point it in the right direction, it can help protect you against false accusations.

The third type of bait is confusion.

This type of bait is a bit harder to spot, and it's usually blended with the other two types. This type of bait is deliberately confusing. The confusing nature is what makes it such effective bait. A vague message can be read a thousand ways, and as long as one person can spin it in a way that makes you a "horrible person" then that can quickly become the narrative. If you receive a question that you do not understand, you have no reason to answer it. If you can't answer, simply not acknowledging it at all is the smartest thing to do.

How to deal with bait:

As I've stated in the previous sub-sections, the first time you receive any type of bait, you should ignore it. The intentions of the bait may differ, but they all need to be treated in the same way- with no respect at all. Anyone who tells you otherwise is someone who wishes for you to be hurt or a fool. If you receive it more than once, try blocking the person. If you continue to receive it, then that means that in all likelihood it's more than one person sending you the bait, and it might not be bait after all. However, you should proceed with extreme caution. You do not respond to the bait- you figure out the source of the questions and answer it on your own terms. Simply making a post like "Hey, for the record, I support dolphins." will go over a thousand times better than a post that goes like "'Why do you hate dolphins?' I don't." If you are receiving bait, another way to deal with it is by turning anonymous asks off and looking into the blogs of people sending you the bait. Search terms relating to the question they asked. If it's something they seem to get into a lot of internet fights over, block them. The approach you must always consider bait with is that all of the bait asks you receive are sent by one person trying to seem like a group of people. This is on purpose- they want to intimidate you into answering. This is why blocking and turning off anonymous asks can be useful tools. It forces them to unmask themselves.

Footnote 1: The response by these bait people is often "keeping on anonymous asks allow people to feel safe in asking these important questions." Your safety is more important. This is just trying to guilt trip you. Fools will also often respond similarly. After all, it can sound compelling. However you are not a publicly traded company. You do not need transparency. You do not have body guards or multiple employees. You are a singular person with a right to privacy and safety.

Summary

In this section, we discussed the main types of bait: controversial, accusatory, and confusing. We also talked about the best way to deal with each type, as well as the pitfalls of responding to each type, and how to deal with a larger harassment campaign.

If you personally have fallen victim to any of these techniques, either as a fool or a poster, I can understand how you might feel- however the important aspect of these types of bait is that they can and do trick people. If they didn't work, they wouldn't be used. It is not your fault for falling for it- it is completely on the perpetrators of this abuse. However, I hope this guide can help people to protect themselves or recognize when these things are happening to them.

[leafsfromthevine]

are we about to kiss rn? (based on that one photo... you know the one)

[amanitacurses]

Names

1 2 3

[soullessseraphim]

May I present to you...

My take on a potential Valdemar bath scene

because I am one thirsty slu-

I was standing at the edge of the pool, waiting for them. They contemplated the water for a moment, as I did, listening to its soft ripples. I then started to undress. They did too, but much more slowly. I entered the warm water with a satisfied sigh, looking up at them with a playful smile. The process of unbuttoning their lab-coat seemed tedious, but to them, it was natural. I had never seen them in anything different, so it was already quite strange to watch them take of those long leather gloves of theirs. But it was even more surprising to me to see they weren't wearing anything underneath other than bandages.

They weren't fully wrapped in them, like a mummy would. I think I would've found it even stranger. bits of their green skin appeared here and there, the areas most covered and invisible being mainly their torso. The bandages were more sparse around their elbows and knees, leaving their arms and thighs half covered and their forearms and calves bare. They stepped in the water with me, and I looked at them, still smiling.

It wasn't the typical bathing attire, but it suited them. I was about to speak up, but it didn't look like they wanted to discuss yet, therefore I closed my mouth, tilting my head slightly, in a mix of concern and confusion. They looked right at me, with those red irises that always pierce so easily into my soul. I didn't mind. I got used to sustaining their gaze... But there was something I could see, this time. I couldn't fathom what, but there was an emotion there, other than their usual excitement and morbid curiosity, or the spark that usually accompanies their sinister grin.

They walked one or two steps away from me, pushing a floating flower aside with surprising gentleness before turning to face me. I was about to ask again if anything was wrong, but then... They loosened the bandages, letting them delicately fall off their shoulders and hips and into the bath's water.

I had a feeling they just made me a most precious gift... A sight that few, if any, had seen before. I couldn't help my jaw from going slack and my chest from growing warm as I looked ; delicate droplets of water glided down their skin, nestling near their collarbones.

I looked back up at their eyes, which gauged my reaction. They had not spoken yet. The silence went on for a while as I stared at them, a mixture of feelings flowing through my veins. But overall, I could only say I was moved : they'd trusted me enough to show themselves to me... I found them beautiful. All of them.

"Thank you."

It was all I could say while looking back in their eyes, full of gratitude.

They relaxed ever so slightly, as if they'd been anticipating a more intense reaction on my part. And then they smiled. Not one of their usual unsettling grins, no... A soft smile. A rare instance where the tiny bit of humanity left in them resurfaced. It was another gift in itself. I felt as if I could cry in joy.

They invited me to sit comfortably in a corner of the pool, our bodies half sunken in the water. They let me wrap my arms around their waist and rest my head against their shoulder as we looked at the sun go down behind the horizon. We did nothing but bask in its warmth and let our precious moment sink in.

I knew they wouldn't offer me anything else, and I was perfectly content with that, for I didn't need anything more.

[bugoutreviewgirlie]

hey all! this is an ongoing passion project of mine and it'd mean an incredible amount to me if you guys checked it out and shared it!

[totem-but-shark]

INTRODUCING... FOOSHTUBER

Foolish vtuber concepts im working on on and off. I had initially wanted to make both the irl and cubito version that could be toggled between however now i'm more considering focusing on the irl version. There's still a lot of work that needs to be done for his design as currently though accurate to the average foolish fit it's very plain and a possibly toggleable hoodie and other accessories could go a long way.

He would have toggleable sharkglasses for the redeem and I'm even working on a bonus silly little pngtuber as well

[oscahpitlane]

i do × landoscar

[deadtiredghost]

my 07 series as abstract memes:

[carrots-bear]

Fire and Rain, written by Bear(aka me)

A rottmnt au where Donnie is the last survivor of the Kraang-pocalypse and is sent back in time. (More or less the peepaw leo aus, except it's donnie.)

Prologue

A tall, green figure crashed into another green figure with a large, clonky, prosthetic, knocking him out of the way of a Kraang laser. (This second figure was also shorter than the first one.)

“Leonardo, I swear, if it were not for us, then you would have died already,” the first figure said, tears forming in his eyes. He had just watched his little brother disintegrate, giving all of himself to send Casey Junior back in time, so that there might be a future that his stupid, selfless sensei doesn’t lose an arm, that April could have lived longer, that Raphael could have lived longer, that Donatello could still see out of his right eye, have somewhat adequate hearing without an aid, have his lower leg, and actually have his ninpo. I mean is that really so much to ask for? thought the Donnie, as he fought off Kraang dogs and tried to find shelter for them. Well, apparently the universe said yes, yes it is.

He was yanked back to the present when Leo said, “Heh, yeah. But you know that that’s just as true for you, Donald.” He was wearing the dumbest smirk— and bleeding an extremely concerning amount alright alright…alright.

Donatello scanned the area with his mono-ggle¹, and when he found somewhere sufficient, he dragged his brother over, going unnoticed by any enemies, I hope… He laid Leonardo down in the rubble gently, making sure that no stray pieces of metal could further injure him. ”Hold tight, Leo. I am going to get you all fixed up.” But then he looked closely at the wound, and his face tightened in a sort of grimace.

“That bad, ay?”, Leo said, still sporting that same old, dum-dum smirk. He winced when Donnie put pressure on the wound. “Okay, yeah. It’s that bad.”

“Of course it is, you dum-dum! Those Kraang hounds banged you up; it’s a miracle you’re still alive…”, Donnie said as he shook his head.

“How will I ever survive?”, Leonardo said, throwing his head back dramatically and putting his hand up to his forehead.

Donnie’s jaw clenched and he froze a moment, then resumed his work, saying, “Without proper medical attention… you might not.” He grimly whispered the last part, as if doing so would make it less true.

Leo put his hand down and faced towards his twin, though his eyes were looking down at his wound. “I know. But I know that you’ll be with me when it happens, and that was one of my ‘the-Great-Master-Leonardo-is-dying!’ requirements. So yay! You accidentally met one of my requirements, Dee!” He said it with a smile on his face, and Donatello didn’t know how.

“There, that should do,” Donnie said, wiping the crimson liquid on his hand onto a piece of rusty metal nearby. “And don’t joke about that,” he snapped coldly.

“Out of curiosity and boredom though—“

“Boredom?”

Donnie glared and sat down more comfortably beside his twin as he continued. “Yes, boredom; listen to my small talk question. Deep inhale and sigh. What are slash² were your other ‘re-qui-re-ments’?” (In case you were wondering, yes, air-quotes were heavily implied.)

“Well…”, and the brothers talked together for a good long time. Donatello checked how secure their shelter was so that he could sleep and ‘Nardo take watch. Yes, both realized how risky that was, putting the person who was slowly bleeding out on watch, but Donnie made Leo promise to wake him up if anything was happening.

• * • * Two weeks later * • * •

The brothers were on the run from the Kraang. Both were completely unsurprised; this was the Kraang-pocalypse, as some liked to call it, after all. At the moment, Donnie’s heated compression sock for his real foot had stopped working— again, so that’s working out great form him, slowing their pace.

Leo coughed, the running not being very good for his current state. “Donnie, I have a plan, but you might not like it.” He stumbled as he coughed again.

It didn’t take long for Donnie to know what Leo was thinking. ”Oh no, uh-uh, nope, not gonna happen. I don’t know exactly what you’re planning, but I do know it’s gonna be that load of self-sacrificing dirt again.”

As he spoke, Donnie pressed a button on his wrist-tech to activate a cloaking device. They got ahead of the Kraang long enough for Donnie to locate a safe place and get there unnoticed. Donnie eased Leo down. He could tell by what his mono-ggle was telling him, Leo was… Donnie was going to lose… Donnie was going to be an only ‘child’ very soon. His eyes wanted to tear up, but Donnie didn’t want to cry, so he forced them back.

Leo was having trouble breathing as it was, so it didn’t help the situation that he was about to give a speech to his twin. “Donnie, I know you know I’m dying. It’s okay! I have a plan remember?”

“Is that plan you dying, the Kraang killing everything, and sparing me to make my life miserable?”

“Well, I mean, I would prefer it if I could live too. If there was another way, I’d take it, but there’s not. I want you to see the good timeline, so you can tell me about it once you die, probably sitting in a rocking chair and solving the ancient puzzle of— The Rubix Cube. You have to promise me that you’ll come back to us when you die, alright? Not a bunch of Master and Uncle wanna-be’s.”

There was that smirk again. Oh, that smirk. Donnie was going to miss it. Welp, here come the water-works. You couldn’t even hold it in for his— “Wait, why didn’t I point this out before? What do you mean? You can’t actually be planing to send me to the same timeline as Casey Junior. You can barely use you ninpo in this state. That killed Mikey, it’s going to kill you too. I didn’t want to watch my family die before, and I still definitely don’t want to now. Please don’t do this, Leo.” Yup, the water-works have arrived everyone! Aw man, why?! Donatello felt his purple mask absorb the tears. They were coming in an onslaught; it would soon look like he just dipped the lower half of his mask in water. He sniffed and looked away from his brother. Donnie was holding his twin’s hand, just to make sure he was still there; he squeezed it, craving any sort of comfort, yet still unsure how to ask for it.

“Aw, Dee. C’mere.” Leo opened his free arm for a hug, and Donnie gladly took the opportunity, knowing it would likely be the last time for him to do so. They stayed like that for a bit, hugging and crying. Then Leonardo pulled back, slightly reluctantly, and said, “If you want, you can take my mask and katanas…”

Dee looked at his twin’s face for a moment before reaching up to untie the blue mask. He wrapped it around his right hand like a fingerless glove, just above a black choker on his wrist. Then he reached for the strap for the blue-hilted twin katanas.

“Does this mean you’re on board with my plan?”

“I know you’ll never let me hear the end of it if I don’t go along,” Donnie said grimly as he strapped on the sheath.

“Heh, you—“, Leo was interrupted by another fit of coughs before he could continue. “You got that right, is what I was going to say.” Donatello finished getting his belongings together and thought, My twin is actually insane. I mean, this could work, since Leo does have portaling abilities, and Mikey did it, so I suppose it’s feasible… “You ready, Don?”, Leo asked, interrupting Donnie’s thoughts.

“Yeah, just a few things first. One:” Donnie leaned forwards and hugged his leader again; he hugged back. Donnie pulled back and said, “Two: I know I don’t say it a lot, because, well, y’know, but I hope you know that I do love you, ‘Nardo.”

“Aw, I love you too, Don-Tron.” His tone was playful, but his words and undertone were loaded, so that helped Donnie a lot with suppressing his tears for number three.

“And three….I don’t blame you for this ‘Nardo. Any of this. I never have. The world was resting in the hands of an egotistical child who didn’t even know what was at stake, not to mention you weren’t the one who wanted to open the portal in the first place. We can definitely blame this one on the Foot. I’ll say this one more time, though, because you don’t look like you believe me.” Donatello rested a hand on his brother’s shoulder and said, “I don’t blame you.”

Leo’s eyes filled with tears, and one slipped down his cheek as he said, “I…Thank you, Donnie. I really needed to hear that.”

“I know,” Donnie stated matter-of-factly as he leaned forwards and touched his own forehead to his brother’s as a last goodbye. “Okay,” Donnie sighed. “Now I’m ready.”

Leo nodded and concentrated hard on his ninpo. He summoned all his strength before there was a burst of light, and a crackling, swooshing, blue portal appeared, though it was small at this stage. Well, at least for a seven-foot three-inch tall mutant who had a few extra weapons that he probably didn’t need on him. Leo let out one last battle cry before he disappeared, disintegrating into thin air. Another tear left Donatello’s eye as he watched the portal grow. He put his bō staff in its sleeve and took out the twin katanas, then looked around at the demolished place he had called home all his life. “Good-bye New York of twenty-forty-four. Sigh.” As he stepped into the portal he murmured, “New York, what a town,” and disappeared into— not next week, but roughly one-thousand-one-hundred and forty-four weeks previous³.

_____________

Prologue is out!!!🥳 I have not told the internet about this au, barely at all, yet. I've already written a few chapters, but I'm saving those for a bit.

So, a few things I'd like to note:

Everything is platonic/familial unless otherwise stated.

It is probably going to be extremely hurt-comfort/comfort/fluffy despite it being Donatello-centric, and the main characters being reptiles;) [ho-ho, ha-ha, he-he, I am the Queen of Daughter Dad-Jokes]

I know nearly nothing medical; mostly stuff I hear my dad(a doctor) talk about, stuff in media/books, and the science I do in school

The numbers that you see by the text(e.g. Hello¹) are what I will use as footnotes, more or less

-=_=-=_=-=_=-=_=-=_=-=_=-

Footnotes:

Donnie’s goggles meet a monocle

/

This is Donnie; I made sure the number of weeks were accurate

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Edit: Prologue | Chapter 1