#there are a lot of blatant refrences

[m-v-tique]

🤖🖥️Scrina = ISFJ🩹🩵

Her first impression can already be mistaken for Ni-Fe (INFJ), however through out the game play character analysis I realized that this isn’t likely;

- Scrina shows feelings of remorse, guilt and/or longing. Just by the torment and yearning to break free and see her maternal figure again, after five years.[ Dominant Si -> Aux Fe + Melancholy ]

- She vents her frustration and dread towards the player/Olivia, though she did not know she was hurting her during the game. [ Secondary Melancholic(?) ]

- Unsure if her intelligence is even evident, however it’s fitting that Scrina can sometimes be informational when it comes to her knowledge about things or the possible use of “common sense”. [ Dominant Si -> Tert Ti (?) ]

- No signs of intuition, hints of ideas, nor inventive/inspirational, despite being with her for longest. But it depends and it’s up to the upcoming game. [ Inferior Ne ]

- She’s managed to be mostly serious or calm, yet she’s used like a dog so there’s emotional or temperamental development… Poor girl. [ Phlegmatic + Melancholy ]

- Due to rather unpredictable situations she longs and looks for trust, despite her mistreatment from everyone. Except Asmodena and later on Olivia when they appear in Alex realm. [ Social + Enneagram 6]

- She is forced to do as Alex commanded in assertive ways to the point she had to do what she must. And knowing it can lead to consequences despite the cruelty, she remains under his control and pressure. [ Self Peservation + Enneagram 1 ]

- Although hostile to the player but mistreated, she’d probably try to take a like just by providing anything she can as long as it’s pleased. [ Gut Enneagram 2 ]

Conclusion:

ISFJ “The Defender”|| 6w5 - SO/SP - 612 || Phlegmatic-Melancholic || RCOAI

Scrina is an ISFJ, “The Defender” Type.

Anyone with an ISFJ personality type are quite honest, caring and lawful people to be with. In strength they can be very hardworking, patient and loyal, but they often can be shy, take a lot of criticism and would bottle up of what they feel.

(Introverted, Observant/Sensing, Feeling, Judging)

As 6w5 The loyalist; Social 6 serves as her way of trusting anyone else in hopes they will help her. As according to studies, Enneagram 6 in an early stage go through an unpredictable situation, and would end up not believing such instinct or intention of trusting someone.

Wing 5 shows practicality and carefulness, so having SP1 shows exactly that. As there was already an idea of SP1 (*Which is in Dolly’s Profile), by core she tries to perfect what she can’t do, doing orders and duties but in the end suffers from all of these demands.

Enneagram 2 are generous, caring and supportive. 2s are quite like 1s but by polarity they are charitable and outgoing. It just so happens to be Scrina’s gut since 2s are represented as people-pleasers, valuing other needs instead of theirs.

Although pessimism was expressed from Scrina throughout the game, it’s blatant if this was her dominant temper. Not to mention her mom/sis is practically melancholic, but strongly not confirmed just yet. She seemed very phlegmatic to be melancholic, but grief is more of a secondary function just for missing her loved one.

Finishing off Reserved; for her introversion, Calm; for her turbulence, and Organized. Accomodating as she’s cooperative, greatly authentic of her own character. And lastly, Inquisitive since she’s more of a resourceful type of individual to listen.

Other Notes/Trivia:

It’s likely she’s an INTP “The Logician” or an ESFJ “The Consul”

It’s also likely she’s Phlegmatic rather than Phlegmatic-Melancholic.

Refrences/Resources:

[lady-wallace]

Sharing an excerpt from my other original novel The New Emperor’s Concerto today! It’s like Kingsman meets Good Omens and is an enemies to friends action adventure novel.

If you want to read the synopsis or find out where you can get a copy, check out this post HERE

Lysander came to slowly, groggily. His training kept him from making a move, from tipping off his captor that he was conscious. Simply continuing to put on the façade of unconsciousness as he tried his best to make sense of his surroundings in his current state.

The first thing he noticed was the rustle of paper as if someone were turning the pages of a book and identified the familiar scent of English breakfast tea. The clink of china confirmed that fact. Was the knave really sitting there reading and drinking tea while he was lying there captive?

He tried to ease his eyes open, staring out through his lashes when he realized something else. Something moving against his side. He froze, his breathing hitching in surprise before the thing seemed to simply leap onto his chest, digging something sharp into him. Lysander tensed, almost not wanting to look.

“Unless you want to keep pretending, I know you’re awake, so you may as well get up and have a cup of tea. I’m sure it will help your head,” a familiar voice said.

Lysander opened his eyes and found himself staring face to face with his attacker: A black cat with green eyes, staring at him reproachfully, flipping its tail, claws digging through Lysander’s clothing and into his chest. He turned his head, confused, to see Eidolon. The other man was sitting comfortably in a chair to the right of the sofa Lysander was lying on, a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose, a cup of tea in one hand and a book in the other, balanced across his knee to hold his place.

“What is this?” was all Lysander could ask, still muzzy from the drug.

“My flat, which you broke into, in case you don’t remember,” came the rather defensive reply.

Lysander huffed indignantly, reaching up to feel the side of his neck, which smarted from the dart. “You drugged me.”

“You should have knocked like a civilized person,” Eidolon replied. “It’s quite rude to just go breaking into people’s residences willy-nilly, King’s Righteous Man or not.”

Lysander was still trying to get a hold of his faculties, so the only thing he could think to say next was. “You have…a cat?”

“Of course, why shouldn’t I?” Eidolon said, motioning to the feline still resting on Lysander’s chest who looked proud of himself as if he had been the one to single-handedly apprehend his master’s intruder. Eidolon waved a hand. “This is Oscar Wilde—as aloof and utterly indifferent as his namesake.”

The cat finally jumped off of Lysander’s chest once the introduction was over and the King’s Agent finally sat up, closing his eyes briefly as the movement made his head swim. He realized for the first time, however, that he was not tied or cuffed. Eidolon must not expect him to make it far if he did try to escape.

“What did you use on me?” he gritted out.

“Oh, something my coworker of mine came up with. How about a cup of tea, old chap? It’ll help the head.” Eidolon reached up to take his glasses off. Lysander snorted slightly at that.

“What? Apophis won’t pay for corrective surgery?”

“Oh, they’re just reading glasses,” Eidolon replied. “And, you know, girls do love that hot scholar look. Plus, it’s rather disarming when you get tired of being recognized as only an expert in the ungentlemanly arts.”

“Hm,” Lysander grunted.

“Now, then—tea?” Eidolon insisted.

Lysander didn’t protest and the Apophis agent stood up, setting his book aside for the moment as he went to the kitchen. Lysander craned his head to read the title, admittedly curious, and registered that it was a copy of Good Omens which he found…interesting. Not exactly what he would have expected from someone like Eidolon.

Come to think of it…he looked around the room and realized that one whole wall was devoted to bookshelves, with actual books. Books weren’t quite so common anymore, and were only really printed for collectors, most people preferring to read things on tablets,¨ but Eidolon’s books looked well-loved and well-read unlike most untouched collector’s libraries. And they were all classics, ranging from Jane Austin and Arthur Conan Doyle, children’s classics like Brian Jacques, and fantasy like J.R.R. Tolkien and Terry Pratchett. And Lysander had just been wondering earlier what an Apophis agent’s flat would look like…he had certainly never suspected this.

He was so confused, or possibly enamored, of his surroundings, especially adding the cat into the picture, that he started when Eidolon reappeared with a second cup of tea, not having realized he’d simply left him there, not seeming to care that he could have escaped easily.

“You take cream or sugar?” Eidolon asked.

Lysander shook his head and accepted the cup and saucer a little clumsily, still lethargic. Alright, perhaps not quite so easily. He didn’t even know if he could stand up by himself at the moment, let alone make it to the door. He stared down at the tea, smelling it, trying to detect if there was anything unsavory in it.

Eidolon sighed as he took his seat again. “It’s not poisoned. I already drugged you, and I think it’s very bad form to poison a man’s tea—even that of your nemesis. I do have standards.”

Lysander snorted, but after another second, took a sip. When he detected nothing but tea, he took another. After half of the cup was gone, his head finally began to clear up.

“How did you find me?” Eidolon asked, causing Lysander to glance up at him again.

“I went through all your identities while you were unconscious in my flat,” Lysander told him.

“Oh, devil take it! Now I’ll have to burn all of them,” Eidolon said but didn’t seem too bothered by it. After all, he had to have known Lysander would take such precautions. Actually, Lysander began to realize that he had probably been expecting this outcome as well, which made him rather furious that he had thought to avoid one trap and neatly fallen into another.

He set his cup aside and fixed a glower onto his face. “Alright, Eidolon, what’s with the cryptic note?”

Eidolon sighed and put his own teacup aside. “I have my reasons that I won’t divulge yet. I just had a sudden epiphany: what if we…I don’t know…perhaps come to an agreement?”

Lysander narrowed his eyes. “What sort of agreement?”

Eidolon smirked. “I think you know the kind.”

Lysander glanced again at the book sitting beside Eidolon, a suspicion forming about this whole setup. “No,” he said firmly.

Eidolon frowned. “You didn’t even hear my terms.”

“I don’t need to hear your terms. I don’t work with anarchists.” He stood up, forcing his legs to support him, and started toward the door, when the sound of a gun cocking made him freeze. He turned slightly to see Eidolon on his feet, pointing Lysander’s own gun at him. He reluctantly realized that his thigh holster was empty, though that was only to be expected.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you leave just yet,” Eidolon said, his voice low and icy. “You see, I’ve put myself in a rather compromising position, meeting with you. If word got out that I did this, I would be killed instantly. To avoid that, I could easily take you in right now and hand you over to Apophis. I’m sure Lars would jump at the chance to dig through the Righteous Man’s head. And his men are a lot more willing to get their hands dirty than you.”

“What do you want?” Lysander said quietly, dangerous. He stayed still, but he was tense, ready for any chance to make a move. He still had a dagger that Eidolon hadn’t found and he would use it if he had to.

“You were right,” Eidolon said. “There is someone high up in the government that is working with Lars.”

Lysander’s breath stopped for a second as he stared at the other man. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Lysander shook his head. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because we’re not so different,” Eidolon said with a humorless smile. “My comrades abandoned me the other night, allowed me to be captured. Your precious king is not so different. You think he would shed a tear if you were to die in action? If I were to kill you now?” He took a step closer.

Lysander raised his head. “It is my duty to protect the king with my life. Dying in the line of duty would be an honor.”

Eidolon laughed bitterly. “An honor. Just the kind of tripe I would expect from the Righteous Man! Is that what your father did? Die honorably in the line of duty?”

Lysander gave a small, dark chuckle. “If you think you can get to me by mentioning my father, you’ll have to try harder. The cold bastard was hardly what could be called a father at all.”

Eidolon cocked his head to one side, perhaps somewhat surprised by his reaction. He shrugged. “Fair enough. But still…” He tossed his head flippantly. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you’d be better worth my time shooting you in the leg and dragging you back to Lars. I could use a commendation after all my recent failures.”

Lysander snarled and flicked his blade from the secret pocket in his sleeve, about to rush the other man when there was a knock on the door.

Both of them froze and Eidolon clenched his jaw, looking like he was making a calculated decision. Lysander was about to use that as an opportunity to strike, when a feminine voice sounded from the other side.

“Oliver? Are you home?”

Eidolon’s shoulders slumped slightly and he turned a furious look at Lysander, jabbing a finger at the couch. “Sit. Now.”

“I’m not…”

“Sit!” Eidolon snapped, shoving the gun into the back of his belt, covering it with the jumper he was wearing as he crossed to the door.

Lysander sat, wondering why he was bothering to be obedient, until he saw the figure on the other side of the door—a young woman with dark hair, dressed in neat office attire.

“Clara,” Eidolon said with a smile as if he hadn’t just been pointing a gun at his ‘guest’.

The girl smiled. “I brought you your mail, Oliver…oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had company.”

She had looked past him to see Lysander sitting stiffly on the couch and Eidolon seemed to make sure to put himself between them, all the time keeping up his smile.

“Ah, he’s just an old friend from school. Thank you for bringing my mail over. I’ll see you again soon.” He took her hand and kissed it, making her blush bright red, then closed the door and turned back to Lysander. “She’s sweet on me. I would love to take her out if I had the chance, so don’t you dare tell her who I really am.”

They both stayed the way they were for a long moment, both waiting for the other to make a move. When neither did, Lysander sighed and decided to take the first step.

“Why did you really call me here?” he said.

Eidolon ran a hand through his stark white hair, revealing a bit of weariness that Lysander hadn’t detected before. “Lars wants war, and war means destruction, not just between armies, but to people who never asked to get caught up in it. You may see me as nothing but a heartless agent to anarchists, but believe me when I say, I don’t want that.”

Lysander studied him intently for a moment. There was a sincerity there that surprised him, and a weariness that betrayed his honesty. Lysander himself hadn’t really thought about it before either, but Eidolon was right. He’d been so caught up with the king’s orders to stop Apophis, he hadn’t realized the consequences of what would happen when things escalated. Especially if Apophis managed to reverse engineer the amount of Element X they had stolen and decided to make bigger bombs than the grenades Ares had used the other night. If it was really as powerful as the boffins claimed, all of London—all of Britain, or even Europe—could be laid waste to in a shocking amount of time.

Still, working with the enemy…of course there was a long history of double agents in wartime, and Lysander’s own family had certainly not shied away from working with unsavory characters in the past, but still…Lysander just didn’t feel right about going behind the king’s back like that.

And yet, if it did help him to take down Apophis…then wasn’t it his duty not to refuse an opportunity?

He finally stood up, facing Eidolon warily. “This Apophis mole…do you know who it is?” he asked finally.

Eidolon shook his head. “No. But I could help you find out.”

Lysander made a calculation before he said, “The king suspects a member of parliament, but any investigation I’ve made so far hasn’t turned up anything useful.”

Eidolon seemed to relax as if he had been waiting for Lysander to open up. Lysander wasn’t sure he was doing that exactly, but he had also said he was going to get to the bottom of this issue. And if Eidolon could help him gain information about who was feeding Apophis information, then he would take it.

“What are your terms?” Lysander asked the other man. “I need to know before I agree to this.”

Eidolon gave a small smile, shoving his hands into his pockets as he shrugged. “Really, nothing much. I just thought that we could come to an…arrangement of sorts. You understand? I do the good thing and you do the bad? We cancel each other out and hopefully divert the coming apocalypse?”

Lysander rolled his eyes slightly. “I suppose something like that wouldn’t be…unheard of. But this isn’t a partnership, you understand? We would simply be sharing information, nothing more.”

“Of course, I would expect nothing less professional from the Righteous Man,” Eidolon said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Lysander ignored it and nodded. “How do we pass information?”

“Oh, you’ll know when you see it,” Eidolon assured him. “As for your end, I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

Lysander pressed his lips into a thin line, wondering what exactly he had gotten himself into, and if perhaps his sanity had grown wings and taken flight.

“If we do this, I need you to understand: if you breathe a word of this investigation to anyone I will kill you.”

“If you go shouting around that you have an informant in Apophis I’ll kill you,” Eidolon replied matter-of-factly.

“Then we have an understanding?”

“An arrangement,” Eidolon corrected and smiled genuinely this time.

Lysander grunted. “You have to call it that?”

“Not with a capital A or anything, but it is a bit poetic, isn’t it?”

“Is that all?” Lysander asked him.

“Unless you want to stay for supper, but I’m afraid all I have in the flat is cat food and maybe some salad cream.”

“I’ll pass.” He reached out a hand. “My gun?”

Eidolon hesitated only a second before he reached behind him and pulled the gun out, handing it back to Lysander. The Righteous Man slid it back into his holster and gave a small nod.

“I’ll be seeing you then, I suppose?” Eidolon called as Lysander turned toward the door.

“I suppose,” Lysander told him, then stopped, one hand on the door handle. “Oh, and thank you for the tea.”

He left the flat and hurried back to the car, wondering what on earth he had just done.

[edward-richtofen-queen]

Monster Musume | My Life as a Monster (Halloween Special!)

Pairing: Ri/De and Ta/Ni for Ultimis & Primis!

Summary: It's Halloween time! Both supernatural crews are finally able to show their colors without fear of their existence!

Notes: [First Section is Primis, Second is Ultimis] A special request from a server I'm in! We all brainstormed together and came up with the idea for each of the characters' monster, so I wrote it and they drew it! This is really short (only 1000 words) but was very fun to do. Special Tags to my technical husband @danktempsey and my best "father" figure @griffincastle. Kudos if you can find a refrence to two shows in this one. Please enjoy!

═══════ ◈ ═══════

Halloween, a spooky spectacular for children, teens and adults alike. Dressing up as myths and legends, young ones knock on doors for candy or party whilst the older ones go to gatherings or dates.

Unbeknownst to society, monsters do, in fact, coexist with them right under their noses—and Halloween was the one time they weren't afraid to show themselves off to the world.

"Dammit Edward, what did I tell you about wearing my stuff?!" Dempsey yelled from across the room, seeing the Vampire has stolen his thick flannel and heavy jacket, wearing his own set of pants and some nice boots. "I like it. Besides, you're not using it, remember puppy?" He teased, baring his fangs teasingly as the werewolf bared his own in response. "Children, Children, you're both adorable, now please be quiet," Takeo hissed, running a hand through his hair as his tails swayed behind him. "Oh hush, Tak. We've all got sensitive ears, alright? Calm down," Dempsey retorted, lip curling downwards but quickly turning up when he feels arms wrap around his chest.

"I'm hungry," He whined behind his ear, Dempsey's tail lagging behind him as he sat down on the loveseat. "Then come here," He purrs, ears flopping to the sides as he helps Edward into his lap. Cupping his face, he gave him a passionate kiss as he relaxed into him, letting Edward sink his fangs into his neck with a hiss of pain. "Did you have to bite that hard, Eddie?"

"Of course, it leaves a really pretty mark!"

"You two are sick," Came the gruff voice of Nikolai from the doorway, wings folded back and tail idly swaying behind him. "All sticky and sweet all the damn time. Rotting my damn teeth," he huffed, but immediately turns his head at a noise in the hallway before he pulled away. A familiar purring of Takeo catches both of their ears as they laugh, holding hands lovingly as they stars at each other.

"Are we that gooey, Tank?"

"Why the hell not? Shows all those other blood-suckers that you're taking by your supposed "Mortal Enemy" bullshit."

"Gosh, I love you Tank."

"I love you too."

"Alright, Time to go!" Nikolai yells from the hall, Edward tugging his boyfriend along as he grabs his umbrella and flicked it open, pulling him outside into the evening light with a loving hold and a sweet smile. Halloween would be great this year.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

"Waffle House? I've never been here," The Oni hummed, slipping his mask on the side of his head as he lifted a finger to open the door.

"I like to hang out here sometimes; lots of light, great food—tastes like America!"

"America? Tastes more like blatant capitalism," Nikolai scoffed as he scratched behind his bear ears, Dempsey walking up to the stand-by waitress to get them a table, immediately getting one due to the lack of foot traffic. Sitting at his favorite corner table, Nikolai and Takeo took one end and the animal/insect men took the other. "Edward, why do you insist on keeping the mask on in public? We're not on your damn bridge," Dempsey huffed, watching the German remove the mask from his face to set it on his hair. "Only because we're going to eat. Besides, I'll get to scare some more trespassers later tonight," he hummed, leaning his head against his nothing boyfriend's fluffy neck.

A waitress arrived to their table, her body wrapped tightly in dark clothes and adorning a beautiful tattoo from her leg down. "It is so nice to see my own out this time of year," She speaks, her voice softly accented in southern drawl which made Dempsey smile. "Louisiana?" He asked without context, her giving a warming smile. "New Orleans—got family there? You picked up my accent quite quick." He leaned forward, bringing Richtofen to his lap in the process. "A good chunk of family, yup!"

Giggling softly, she held out a pad and a pen and gave a small chant, letting both float beside her. "Ready to order, lovely gentleman? And may I say it, you four look adorable together—you make perfect couples," she cooed, making Richtofen blush slightly along with Takeo. Taking their orders back to the kitchen, she left a complementary "witch's brew" (which was the equivalent of make your own drink anywhere else but with a bit more magic) as they waited.

"Have you always known there's been a witch here?" Richtofen asked, looking over at his boyfriend as he idly stirred the cauldron. "Yeah. She's usually in the back, though. The special little pentagram on her hand glows when she does anything with magic, most of the humans just think it's parlor tricks," He explains, pecking his lips with a grin. Chatting amongst themselves, their food arrived rather quickly as they began to eat. The ambiance of slow Halloween music along with the period tapping of utensils to plates were quite soothing, small chatter amongst themselves and other customers (whom only seemed to be monsters at the moment) another welcome noise.

For the majority of the time, it was food and small talk, getting to know a bit about their waitress and enjoying the food, knowing they'd have to leave soon due to their normal routines. Leaving a token of appreciation and their billed paid, both couples parted ways with goodbyes as Dempsey and Richtofen traveled to their "shared" bridge. The clack of his hooves against the wood made him smile—he was home again, even if it was just a bridge. The sweet smell of swampy water and the soft sound of a nearby waterfall was enough for him, leaning against the creaky wood to inhale the familiar scent.

The sun slipped under the horizon as the sky painted into murky Navy blues, a signal of showtime as Richtofen lit one of his oil lamps. Watching Dempsey get drawn to it was quite cute, pressing a small kiss to his cheek. Pulling through skull mask over his head, he gave a genuine smile, turning devious when the distant sound of teenagers caught his ears.

"Let's have some fun today, okay?"

"Course. Make me one of my special lamps after all this?"

"Anything for you, you fuzzy demon."

[socloui]

Who is responsible for protecting the user?

As a millennial, I spend a lot of time on the internet. From the beginning of my journey online there has always been blatant and hidden sexism, racism, homophobia, xenophobia, the list goes on, from every front. This raises the question, whose job is it to make sure those things aren’t happening online? Or is it anyone's? To be more specific is it a social media company's job to make sure blatant hate and bullying gets combed through and deleted, is it the user's job to report it or is it just a part of society, therefore the internet, we need to get over? I’m going to start out with Twitter, a pretty Liberal platform that is almost 50/50 male to female (Statista: 2017). 

Twitter Today 

Twitter is a popular “micro-blogging” site that started in San Francisco in March of 2005 (Nations: 2018). The site has grown to be one of the most popular social media sites ever created. Which means it goes without saying that there's going to be many conflicting opinions on the platform. According to the Twitter terms of service, while they hold the right to delete any tweet that “violates terms of service” they also say they are not responsible for what their users present. The average user can block others for any or no reason at all and also holds the right to report a tweet where Twitter employees will examine the tweet and see if it violates the terms. Reading through the Terms of the website its a lot of checking off the boxes to avoid a lawsuit instead of protecting the user from hate, lies, etc. So whose job is it to delete a tweet, according to Twitter. Well after doing some digging it seems the average person with not a lot of followers can get away with a lot more than a page with a lot of foot traffic. For example, Kevin Hart tweeted “u should ask the question like this, how many “gay” men sweat when they wear dress shirts because real men don't lmao p.s fag”. He now has 35 Million followers, even though this was years ago it was deleted within an hour. If even only 100 of his followers saw and reported the tweet it’s going to bring twitters attention to it much quicker than an average person with only a few followers therefore way fewer people who may or may not report it. While this is a pretty simple concept we do hold celebrities to a higher standard so when they say something completely out of grey area horrible its seen as much worse. For example, we expect the white entitled frat boy to say something horrible but when someone we only know through news articles and their fan base steps out of line its a much bigger deal. 

Facebook Fiasco 

Facebook is a social media network that started out of California in 2005 (Rouse: 2016). Facebooks terms of conditions seem to be more involved in the user's experience than Twitter. They claim to have teams of employees around the world looking for keywords and taking necessary steps to combat misuse of the platform. Facebook claims “

People will only build community on Facebook if they feel safe. We employ dedicated teams around the world and develop advanced technical systems to detect misuse of our Products, harmful conduct towards others, and situations where we may be able to help support or protect our community” (Facebook: 2018)

One thing I found interesting about the terms of service is that they state if they detect misconduct they contact other facebook companies. This means if you break terms of conditions to a certain extent they hold the right to change or delete items on your other Facebook affiliated accounts. If you have an account on Whatsapp, Friendfeed, or other less popular platforms owned by Facebook they have the right to those as well even if you did nothing wrong on another platform. I think the main thing that has affected the huge difference between the two terms of service is the use of each platform. Even though Facebook is seen as an older platform they are the same age and Facebook has over a Billion more monthly users. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bghTL5gU6fs

In conclusion, I think Facebook has more of a hold over there users than Twitter does and that's not a bad thing. From the video, we watched a while back in class and separate research I’ve learned facebook is more than a social media platform to many people. It has started revolutions and been a gateway to the world of social media to so many people. Whether their location, age, or wealth people get on Facebook and feel a sense of community and the people at the company realize that and maintain that. Social media will probably never be perfect and that's one of the great things about it. As users, it's our job to determine what should and should not be on the platform, and determine if we simply disagree or this is hateful and needs to be dealt with. The world today would be much less connected and less fun without social media. I don’t think it's going anywhere and I’m okay with that. 

Refrences: 

Statisa. 2017. Distribution of Twitter users in the United States as of January 2017, by gender

Nations, Daniel. 2018. What is Twitter, and Why is it so Popular?

2018 Facebook Terms of Service 

2017 Twitter Terms of Service

[bigswigrollers]

adding on a lot of the shit he says here is just blatant misinformation. i didnt tell obj creators to self harm, the persons name wasnt into my arm it was my leg, him saying "everyone gets hurt" was in refrence to me not wanting people to post obj permadeath stuff. also i never intended on telling the person whos name i carved into my leg that i did that i didnt want her to know at all. also he posted this in the announcements of a fg server for context

i do have evidence. sorry you had to find out this way

i can provide context if you wish but yeah @icyrose-cat