#they were like 'based off of evidence (that is false) you are wrong'

[mx-paint]

Another day, another argument with someone with a fake degree in psychology

#argument: everybody needs a 'father' in their life #i was like. no. #they were like 'based off of evidence (that is false) you are wrong' #and i Gave them evidence on how its false #and theyre just like 'but its quoted everywhere' #.....this does not make it less false #they said they are studying for a psychology degree #.....they are not going to get said degree #or maybe they are since the society we live in is bad already #im just like. if you cant tell when evidence is fake or skewed then what good is your degree #like. most 'evidence' like this usually doesnt compare to people that just have two parents in similar situations #bc they dont take into account abuse or neglect or poverty #then when i pointed This out they kept saying the evidence cant be made up bc its online #i gave up then #they probably think they won but i just blocked them cause theyre annoying #its free its easy #when twelve year olds argue over something they dont understand then you really cant reason with them #like this isnt me saying i dont like the evidence so im saying its false #this is me lookong at rhe evidence and looking hoe the blogs are pro white american #pro Christian and conservative #and theyre just like. but im taking classes so i can say its true or false #i also took classes and am also on the internet and know when a blog (cause thats what its on. blogs) is lying #i hope god is real so that they can kill me forever #max rambles #theres a Singular website that has .gov on this lidt but considering it says 'fathers are the future #kids can only succeed if they have a father and mother etc' #not to mention its called 'fathers of the nation' or something like that #like- #idk what to tell you if you take what they say as them actually having genuine statistics

[berryzxx]

i really like ur theo headcanons so is it possible if u could do a fic based off of the 11th one. If not could u do a fic where he's had a fight because of you. thanks

I'll try harder

11) Ends up in the infirmary a lot, Madam Pomfrey thinks he's a "troubled yet entertaining student"

Hope u like it x

"Where is my boyfriend?" I asked Draco, my annoyance increasing with his obvious distractions so he didn't have to answer my question.

He gave me a once over, his cool gaze unaffected by my anger "Your boyfriend is currently busy. I'm sure you'll see him tomorrow...or in a few days depending on the situation"

I was going to pull my hair out if I didn't get a direct answer soon "Draco Malfoy if you don't tell me right now I will drag Pansy here and tell her you like her"

His blank expression didn't change except the flicker of annoyance in his grey eyes "And where did you receive that false information from?"

I smiled at him "Just because it's false doesn't mean people aren't going to believe it. Did you know all it takes is one little whisper for a rumour to be spread across the whole of Hogwarts?"

Draco smirked, crossing his arms "Blackmailing me, y/l/n? Looks like Nott does benefit you in some way." "Tell me"

"He's in the hospital wing and before you run away to mother him, if I hear a single word about me liking that awful witch-"

"Your threats don't matter to me right now, Malfoy. But thanks anyway" I rushed off to where he had said Theo was, trying to rid my thoughts of everything that I imagined had happened to him. He was fine walking off the quidditch pitch and there were no serious injuries while he played so why was he there?

I knocked on the door, making sure it was loud enough for someone to hear. If the door didn't open I would barge in myself. Before I could do just that Madam Pomfrey opened the door giving me a sympathetic smile "Here to see Theodore?"

I nodded my head trying to see behind her to no avail. All I could see were a few drawn curtains and another few beds unoccupied.

"Go on in then, he's the third one." I rushed past her muttering a quick thank you. She was probably fed up of having me to see me at her door every other day.

I approached the third bed and pushed the curtains to the side. I didn't know what I expected but it wasn't Theo sat up reading a book with his head wrapped in white gauze. Otherwise he looked completely fine.

"Hey" I left a small kiss on his cheek and sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for him to answer the questions I was too afraid to ask.

He let out a sigh and placed his book near his pillow, shifting further to the left so I had more space on the bed.

"Who told you I was here?"

I furrowed my eyebrows in annoyance and confusion "That's not important. What's important is what are you doing here? Don't tell me you got into another fight"

He gave me a slight smile, his expression showing discomfort.

"Theo. Why? Why are you always fighting?"

"For the record I won the fight, sweetheart."

I scoffed "Well clearly not if you've got that on your head and your opponent isn't even in the hospital wing right now"

He grinned as if he found something funny "He's having a meeting with Snape that's why."

He wasn't getting the point. He just didn't seem to care that what he was doing was wrong and it affected others as well. "What happened? I want the truth"

His smile dropped, becoming suddenly serious to when I asked for the truth.

"Well, the guy who asked you out the other day and you rejected him. He was talking shit about you so I decided to fuck him up a bit. You know, so he'd know that he didn't have the right to talk about you like that...no one does"

I sighed. The fact that he was fighting because of something said about me was nice of him but I didn't want him hurt because of that.

"Theo he said something about me. Not you. I don't want you hurt every time someone says a single thing against me"

He sat up suddenly, anger evident on his face "And why the fuck not? If he's going to talk about my girlfriend like that do you think I'm just gonna stand there and not do shit all?"

"But Theo your hurt because of it! I don't want that for you"

He slumped back down and didn't bother looking at me "I don't fucking care about being hurt. If I hear a single word against you-"

"Just ignore it!" I was getting annoyed now. Why was he so desperate to be hurt because of something I didn't even care that much about?

"Ignore it? Your fucking crazy if you think I'll ignore something like that"

I stood up ready to do something. Ready to shout at him, to push him off the bed, to do anything but sit there and tell him time and time again that I didn't want him hurt because of something so irrelevant. Tears welled up in my eyes, I tried blinking them away but instead a few fell down making their way down my cheeks.

"Well your good at ignoring one thing! Our fucking date that your missing because of your detention. Is that what you wanted?" I wiped the remaining tears from my face, anger coursing through my veins. Theo finally deigned to look at me after having raised my voice, something I rarely did.

His eyes widened in shock "I didn't realise. Fuck. I'm sorry Y/n, I didn't even realise and- I didn't mean for you to cry. I'm so fucking sorry"

"It's a little late for that isn't it. What does it matter when you've missed the second date this month because of some stupid fighting you can't control"

He leant toward me, reaching for my hand the warmth of his hand seeping into me. "I am so sorry. I am so fucking sorry, sweetheart. What do you want me to do? I swear I won't fight again...unless the person deserves it"

I sat back down, the anger vanishing from me, Theo's comforting hand grounding me.

"Lay down with me. Please." He asked quietly, eyes full of sorrow.

I turned so I could lay down next to him his arm coming around my waist to pull me closer to him. He dropped a kiss to the top of my head "I really am sorry Y/n. I don't want you to be upset over something I've done"

I shook my head "I'm not upset. I just don't want my boyfriend to be in the hospital wing for half the year"

"I'll try harder" He whispered.

"Just try harder on the fighting aspect. Otherwise your perfect"

I smiled at him and the one he gave back made my heart melt. I loved him.

(Not proof read)

#theodore nott fic #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fanfiction #theo #theo nott x y/n #theo nott fic #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott #slytherin boys #slytherin #draco #draco malfoy #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott #theodore nott imagine #pansy #pansy parkinson #y/n x character #hogwarts #hogwarts houses #madam pomfrey

[miraclegemz]

SONIC POLL RESULTS

Hello people from this poll! This is a breakdown of the poll results with evidence! Please note that this only included events from the games. But before that lemme preface this with I Did Not expect the poll to get *checks notes* 8,639 votes?!!?? I expected like 150 max. So that’s why some response were kinda exaggerated or just straight up wrong because I’m incapable of counting. So here’s the results!

Option 1: Shadow the Hedgehog gets crucified (TRUE from Sonic 06)

Ok so this is what I meant when I said I exaggerated some stuff. No he does not get nailed to a cross. However, he does get put in T-pose jail.

(From here starting at 11:37). Considering the context of being forsaken by humanity after the world ends, and that you can’t really nail a guy to a wooden cross in a fiery wasteland, this is pretty damn close to a crucifixion (cyber crucifixion? It is 200 years in the future). I may have exaggerated but I am prepared to stand by it.

Option 2: Sonic gets thrown into a maximum security prison (TRUE from Sonic Adventure 2)

This was way more known compared to option 1. So during SA2 sonic gets framed for stuff he didn’t do as a coverup and he gets imprisoned on Prison Island

(From here at 6:40)

Option 3: Tails gets turned into a cyborg (TRUE from Sonic Lost World)

I kinda don’t blame people for not knowing this one since this game was kinda boring, Tails gets captured by the villains of this game and they turn him into a robot to fight Sonic. However Tails was able to circumvent their brainwashing and keep his free will.

(From here at 26:21)

Option 4: Knuckles beats the shit out of a ghost (TRUE from Sonic Adventure 2)

This also hails from SA2 as a random one-off boss fight that has nothing to do with the main story. It’s cool as fuck though.

(From here)

Option 5: Sonic gets Isekai’d twice (TRUE from multiple games)

Ok so I fucked up this one. I only counted the Sonic Storybook Games of which there are two (in which sonic is sent to worlds based around the Arabian Nights and Arthurian Legend). However Sonic has been thrown into different dimensions both in Sonic Rush Adventure and Sonic Forces and probably some others I’m forgetting about. That’s honestly my bad BUT I’m technically still right

Option 6: Eggman asks Sonic “How did you get here so quickly?” (TRUE from Sonic Unleashed)

This is probably the best line in the series since Eggman is being completely serious asking this to his arch-nemesis with super speed. Come on dude.

(From here at 20:35)

Option 7: A Frog swallows a Chaos Emerald (TRUE from Sonic Adventure)

Yeah so a cat’s pet frog swallowed a chaos emerald, grew a tail, and got chased around the country by both the cat and Eggman’s robots. Don’t worry the frog and cat were reunited safely in the end.

(From here)

Option 8: Shadow gets possessed by a time god (FALSE)

I found you, faker!

While Shadow has been subject to mind control by an evil alien overlord, been a victim of identity theft by half of a time god (pictured)

and also abducted by a different (or the same?) time god, he has not been possessed and/or controlled by a time god.

And Finally,

Option 9: Amy can turn invisible (TRUE from Sonic 06)

Yes, this is true. It is a one-off ability that is never explained nor brought up again.

(From here at 2:04)

In Conclusion

Go play/watch Sonic 06

#gemz speakz #gemz pollz #polls #sth #shadow the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #Amy rose #miles tails prower #knuckles the echidna #dr eggman

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Darkness Declares Glory | Chapter 15 | S.R

Previous Part | Next Part

A/N - this fic deals with some very dark themes such as drug use, self-harm and suicidal ideation. Please proceed with caution and Minors DNI. There is a reader insert but it is very Spencer-centric

Chapter Summary - Spencer finally comes to understand the truth about you and his fractured memories before facing off with Cat Adams for the final time.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | eventual happy ending.

Warnings - false memories, past drug use, swearing, Cat Adams, brief mention of Tobias Hankel.

WC - 5.4K

Chapter 15 - How to Save a Life

The Mandela Effect. 

Coined online by a woman who detailed her recollection of Nelson Mandela dying in prison in the nineteen eighties. She remembered distinctive news coverage on his death and found others who had shared memories of the event. 

However, Nelson Mandela did not die in prison. He spent twenty seven years inside before being released, went on to become the President of South Africa for five years and passed away in twenty thirteen. 

The Mandela Effect is described as a clear memory of an event that never happened in this reality. It occurs when people believe that their distorted memories are accurate recollections. 

Other examples of it include The Berenstein Bears versus The Berenstain Bears and whether Curious George had a tail or not. 

There is evidence that our memories aren’t entirely accurate and can alter over time. People tend to over-believe their memories as a form of ego protection or cognitive dissonance. Some people would rather choose to believe their false memory is evidence of a parallel universe than admit they are wrong. 

It isn’t based on a lie or deception. Instead it occurs when a person or group of people have clear but false memories. The creation of such dissociative realities can be a crutch for people who have suffered extreme trauma. 

Like being imprisoned for a crime they didn’t commit. 

Spencer stared straight ahead at the wall in the interrogation room, straight over her raven head. He couldn’t even bear to make eye contact with her for fear of what he might see. 

He hadn’t spoken a word after he told Luke he wanted the truth about you. After that he’d shut down completely. 

Emily came at Luke’s insistence and found Spencer practically catatonic, staring at the same wall he stared at now, refusing to speak. 

“What’s going on Luke? Did Cat do something?” Emily glared at her colleague, keeping her voice low. “He shouldn’t be here. I didn’t want him to know.”

“I don’t think this is about Cat.” Luke whispered back. 

“What’s this about then?” She folded her arms, giving Luke a stern look. 

He pulled a face before leaning in close to her ear.

“He said wanted the truth about Y/N.” 

Spencer had heard everything they were saying but couldn’t bring himself to speak. Instead he twirled the theory of the Mandela Effect around and around in his fractured brain, trying to make sense of this. 

False memories. The belief in being able to recollect events that never happened. 

Or in his case, an entire series of events. 

It wasn’t until he'd stood thinking of the last time he’d seen Cat that it all became clear. He’d shattered the perfectly crafted illusion in his head. He hadn’t been thinking of you when he said those things to Cat over two years ago. He hadn’t been thinking about you because you didn’t exist to him then.

Two years ago was when Spencer thought you’d broken up with him, walked away from your relationship. And it wasn’t a coincidence that two years was almost the exact amount of time he’d started using again. 

His drug-addled brain had created false memories, manufactured an entire relationship that had never existed. And he’d broken the disassociation when he’d thought back to a time when you hadn’t existed in his life and tried to place you there. 

Obviously he’d met you somewhere during his drug binge. He hadn’t completely made you up, clearly you did actually exist. But you’d never been together. Not the way he thought you had. 

He’d dreamt of you countless times before he saw your face at PIW. He knew how dreams worked. He knew the brain didn’t have the capacity to create new faces. The fact that he dreamt of you meant he’d seen you before. The neocortex works to interpret images, sounds and sensations experienced during the waking day and build a coherent narrative with them. 

So he’d definitely seen you before. But it seemed as though his brain had just constructed its own story. One where you were an FBI Agent. One where you’d been his girlfriend and the two of you had fallen in love. 

But that’s all it was, a carefully conceived tale. 

He most likely met you the night Tara saw him making out with a woman wearing your bracelet. He’d spent a night with you nearly two years ago and your face and your name had stuck in his crazed mind. And he’d concocted a life for the two of you. 

Maybe it had been his brain's way of combating loneliness. Or maybe he was just completely fucking insane. In a way it all made perfect sense.

The team's reluctance to talk about you. The lack of pictures of you in his room. 

He’d even tried to tell himself, through you, in his dreams. 

“You know deep down that if this was real, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Emily must have called you.” 

“We both know that she didn’t Spencer. Think about it. Really think about it.” 

“Think about what?” 

“You still don’t get it do you?” 

“Get what? I don’t understand. Y/N please tell me what’s going on.” 

“You have to figure it out for yourself. I’m only a figment of your drug-addled brain.” 

“Please Y/N, tell me what’s going on. I’m so confused.” 

“You’ll figure it out. You’re a genius after all.” 

“Please Y/N, don’t go! I miss you! Please don’t leave me again!” 

“Close your eyes and rest. It will make more sense in the morning.” 

How did he not realise sooner? 

He felt Emily’s hand on top of his and it felt like it was burning him. His flesh felt as though it was seering off beneath her touch and he wanted her to stop. 

“Spence? Can you say something? Or at the very least, can you look at me?” She spoke softly. 

Spencer wanted to scream at her. He wanted to scream at her and Luke and the rest of his old team. He wanted to scream at Maggie and Nick and Cedric and Doctor Sanderson. He wanted to scream at Cat for having him arrested and causing him to relapse which had led him here in the first place. 

You were the only good memory he’d had and now it was destroyed. None of it was real. Everything he’d been clinging to was a lie. 

“Spence?” She squeezed his hand and he suddenly snatched it out from under hers. 

He tore his eyes off the wall and when he looked at her, his tears overflowed and started falling silently down his cheeks. 

“It wasn’t real.” He croaked out. “It was all in my head. It was never real.” 

“I’m so sorry, Spencer. I didn’t know how to tell you. When you mentioned her when you woke up…I didn’t know how to tell you she doesn’t exist.” Emily chewed on her lip. 

“She does it exist. Technically.” He tried to ignore the tears streaming down his face. “I must have met her when I was high and…I guess I created a whole life around it. And now she’s at the institute too and I can’t stop thinking about her as the girl in my false memories.” 

“She’s…she’s real?” Emily stuttered. 

“Yeah. She’s a drug addict. Not an FBI Agent. Not my ex-girlfriend. Just a drug addict I probably screwed when I was high out of my mind.” He hung his head and like in the car, his hand shimmied up his sleeve and his fingers pressed against the vein at the crook of his arm. 

“You were on a lot of drugs for a long time, Spence. It was bound to cause some kind of psychological effects.” She went to put her hand on his again but Spencer suddenly pushed his chair back. 

The metal chair screeched across the floor and he jumped to his feet, ignoring the pain that it caused his leg to do so. 

“I created an entire relationship in my head, Emily! I have vivid memories of being with her, of the two of us hanging out with you guys at Rossi’s. I imagined a whole relationship with her, one that still feels so real even though I know it isn’t! My brain was the one thing I could always count on. And now that has failed me too. How the fuck can I remember things so well that never happened?” He raised his voice, startling Emily a little. 

“Spencer, I wish I knew what to say.” She sighed sadly. 

“Why don’t you just say what everyone is thinking, Emily?” He glared at her wildly but she frowned. 

“What do you mean?” 

He slammed his hands on the metal table, the noise echoed around the small room. 

“It’s my fault. It’s all my fucking fault. If I hadn’t started using again, if I hadn’t put myself into this position…” he trailed off, grinding his teeth. 

“No one thinks this is your fault, Spencer.” She shook her head. “Everything that happened to you…you reached your breaking point. That is not your fault. You were pushed to it.” 

His eyes turned black with anger and for a moment she thought that rage was directed at her. 

“You’re right.” He growled, throwing his hands up in the air. “This is her fault. That fucking bitch! It’s all her fault!” 

“H-her?” Emily swallowed.

“Cat fucking Adam’s! She did this to me! She had me arrested which led to me relapsing. And relapsing led me to create these false memories with Y/N. She’s taken everything from me! Piece by piece she has slowly destroyed my life!” He was really yelling, spital flying from his mouth like a wild animal while the vein in his forehead pulsed aggressively. 

“Spencer,” Emily pushed her chair back and came closer to him, tentatively. “You need to calm down. I don’t think seeing Cat right now is a good idea for anyone. She’ll be dead soon and you won’t have to worry about her anymore.” 

“No, I have to see her.” He spat. “She is not going to her grave before she answers to what she’s done.”

“I really don’t think-“

“Screw what you think!” He screamed at her. “Screw you and screw the team. I don’t work for you Emily, you can’t tell me what to do anymore.” 

Emily took a breath, calming herself before she said something she’d inevitably regret. 

“Your memories might not be real but you said yourself that Y/N is. You should focus on that. She’s real and you have a chance to make real memories with her.” Emily tried to calm him to no avail. 

“The memories of her were the only thing I had left to cling to Emily! They were the only thing keeping me even remotely sane!” 

“Spencer, listen to me.” She grabbed him by the shoulders and he tried to break free of the hold but she held tight, forcing him to look at her. “You were going to find out eventually. And now you know and you have to deal with it. Being angry at Cat isn’t going to change anything. Being mad at her won’t make things different. What’s done is done and now you need to decide how you’re going to get through it. But marching in there and screaming at Cat is not going to change what’s already happened.” 

He stood still for a moment, staring at Emily and she had no idea what he was thinking. She hoped he would see sense, walk away and forget all about Cat Adam’s and the things she’d put him through. She hoped he was smart enough to know that whatever he hoped to achieve in that room would not come to fruition. She hoped he knew better, once he would have, but she wasn’t sure anymore. Spencer hadn’t been the man she’d known for a long time. 

He stepped back from her hold and shook his head, turning away from her and heading to the door. 

“I’m doing this. I have to see her.” He reached for the door handle as Emily reached for his arm but he shook her off. 

He threw the door open and practically crashed straight into Luke who was on the other side. Spencer briefly snarled at the other man before pushing past him. 

“And don’t you dare follow me. This is between me and her. Don’t get involved.” He spat harshly over his shoulder as he stormed down the hall towards the interrogation room that held his nemesis. 

He ignored the pain spreading through his leg at the effort of walking at this speed. It didn’t matter. He had bigger fish to fry. 

Emily and Luke exchanged a defeated glance, there were no words they could say that would change Spencer’s mind and they’d probably only find themselves on the receiving end of his anger if they tried. They watched him go, and they both just hoped he wouldn’t kill Cat Adam’s. 

***

Without preparing himself or even taking a second to calm himself, Spencer threw open the door of the interrogation room, storming towards the table in the centre of the room. 

Cat gave him that wicked smile that haunted his dreams as he pulled back the chair heavily and sat down in it. 

“Spencie,” she grinned at him. “I missed you.” 

“Cut the shit.” He shook his head. “I’m not here for your games.”

“But you love my games.” She leant her elbows on the table, threaded her fingers together creating a little bridge and leant on her chin on them. 

“Your games got me arrested. Your games forced me back on drugs.” He snarled. 

“Oh yes I heard about that.” She giggled and if he didn’t know any better he wouldn’t think her to be a threat. 

“Still keeping tabs on me?” 

“Of course. I have to make sure your life sucks as much as mine does.” She smiled so sweetly at him as though her words weren’t laced with poison. “How does a psychiatric facility compare to prison?” 

“You destroyed my fucking life.” He slammed his hands on the table and he saw her flinch. “You destroyed my life for what? Some sick fucking game? Because I arrested you first? You deserved to be in prison. I didn’t.” 

“Well now, that’s just a matter of opinion.” She sat back in her chair. “You said yourself you enjoyed hurting those men. And given half the chance, you would have killed me the last time you saw me. I think you know what kind of monster you are. You just hate that I bring it out of you.” 

“I’m nothing like you.” He shook his head. 

“You’re everything like me, Spencie. You told me, remember? You told me we were the same and that we were perfect for each other.” She leant forward and reached to cup his jaw. “Let me show you how perfect we really are for each other.” 

For a moment he let her hold his face in such an eerily delicate way it momentarily made him forget how much he despised her. But he soon snapped himself out of it, grabbing her roughly by the wrist and pulling her hand off his jaw. 

“Don’t touch me.” He spat, dropping her arm to the table. 

“Don’t pretend you haven’t thought of my hands all over you.” She smirked. 

He knew he had to change tact. He was losing his grip on the situation. He took a breath and focused himself. 

“What happened to your baby?” His words caused a frown to appear on her features at the sudden change of subject. 

“What?” 

“Last time I saw you, you were pregnant with another man’s baby you claimed to be mine. What happened to it?” He folded his arms over his chest. 

“I don’t want to talk about that.” She averted her gaze from his. 

“Did you miscarry? Or was the baby put into the system?” 

“I said I don’t want to talk about that.” She growled. “If it was your baby I’d talk about it. It should have been your baby. I wish it was your baby.” 

“You disgust me.” He rolled his eyes rather than confessing that he’d wished the same. 

He hoped she wouldn’t see right through him the way she usually did. She raised an eyebrow at him, crossing one leg over the other as she inspected him. 

“If I disgust you so much,” she tilted her head to the side. “Why are you here?” 

That was a good question, one he still didn’t have an answer to. 

“To show you that you didn’t completely destroy me. I’m still breathing. I’m still alive. I’m going to beat my addiction and I’ve got the rest of my life ahead of me. You don’t get to win this one, Cat.” He felt sweat gathering at his temples. 

The urge to use again was extremely high. 

“Oh Spencie!” She cackled dramatically. “I’ve already won.” 

“How so?” He desperately fought to keep his expression neutral. 

“Look at you.” She scoffed. “You’re a mess. I took everything from you. Your job. Your sobriety. Your sanity.” 

The look in her eyes told him she knew the full extent of it, but how could she? How could she know about you? There was no feasible way for her to know and Spencer knew that. 

“You did take everything from me.” He suddenly confessed, standing up and starting pacing the small room. Cat watched his limp curiously. “You even took the one good thing I thought I had left. The one good thing I had left in my life and you took that too. You took everything from me.” 

“You flatter me, Spencie.” She smirked at his admittance. 

He moved closer to the table again and without sitting down, leant on it with his palms. 

“You took everything.” He repeated, staring her right in the eyes. “But I’m still alive. And that’s more than will be able to be said for you soon. You lose, Cat. The game is over.” 

Cat’s smile faltered and he saw something flicker on her eyes. Then she leant closer to him, fixing her smile and reaching her hand closer to him. 

“I’ll be dead but I’ll still live on forever up here.” She tapped the side of Spencer’s head. 

He snarled at her and stood up straight so she couldn’t reach him. 

“My only regret is that it wasn’t me who got to end your life.” He spat. “I should have been the one to kill you. Not the state.” 

“There’s still time.” She smiled smugly. 

He clenched and unclenched his fists at his sides. He would love nothing more than her life to end at his hands. But he couldn’t. He’d already lost so much because of her. He wasn’t letting her have this too. 

“I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.” He spat. “I’m done here. We’re done.” 

He turned on his heels and limped towards the door. Cat watched him go as she fished for something in the pocket of her jumpsuit. As he reached the door, he was haltered by her voice. 

“But I have something you want, Spencie.” She spoke in that sickly sweet tone that sent a shiver down his spine. 

He grinded his teeth and took a deep breath. 

“You have nothing that I want, Cat.” He stayed facing the door, afraid if he looked at her he’d be sucked back in again. 

“Oh really?” She rolled the item around in her palm. “Not even this?” 

Spencer tried his hardest not to turn around, he really did. But against his better judgement, he slowly turned back to her. She had a proud look on her features as she held her hand open showcasing the item in her palm. 

Spencer’s blood froze in his veins as he stared it, a flashing beacon in her hand waiting for him. She was waving a red flag at a bull. 

“Well? Don’t pretend you don’t want it.” She chuckled, proffering her hand across the table. 

He felt his heart start to race and he swore his vein on his left arm pulsated as he stared at the small glass bottle. The small, seemingly innocuous item that was the one thing Cat could tempt him with. 

His mouth went dry and his right hand subconsciously moved to grip at the crook of his left arm while he continued to stare at the small vial of dilaudid in Cat Adam’s hand. 

“W-where did you g-get that?” He swallowed, his voice hoarse. 

“I still have friends in high places.” She shrugged. 

“I d-don’t want it.” He refused to move, couldn’t come any closer for fear he would take it from her. 

“You might not want it. But you need it.” She held it up, shaking it between her fingers. 

“W-why?” He croaked. “Why are you doing this?” 

“Because I never lose, Spencie.” She grinned at him, reaching her free hand into her pocket. “Can’t forget this!” 

She pulled out a needle still in its packaging and placed both items on the metal table. Spencer felt his neck start to sweat and his hands were shaking. Five weeks he’d been sober. And for most of those five weeks he’d dreamed of someone handing him a vial of his old vice. 

He squeezed his arm, pressing against his vein as if it would help stem the cravings that snuck back up on him. 

“Please,” he shook his head. “P-please put it away.” 

“Why would I do that? It’s a gift, silly. My parting gift to you before I exit this plane of existence.” She looked between him and the drugs. “Don’t pretend you’re going to walk out of here without taking it. You and I both know you aren’t strong enough.” 

He felt tears gather behind his eyes and he frantically blinked them away. He felt like he was back in that graveyard kneeling over Tobias’ dead body while he contemplated taking the drugs from his tormentor. 

That decision had been an easy one. Pocketing those vials of dilaudid had been one of the simplest decisions of his life. And ultimately, this was much the same. Because Cat was right, he wasn’t strong enough to walk away without the drugs. He hadn’t been sober long enough to feel like he didn’t need them anymore. One more hit would solve so many of his problems. 

He knew Emily and Luke weren’t out there watching because if they were, one of them would have burst in here by now and dragged him away from temptation. He could take the drugs and they’d be none the wiser. He could take them back to PIW and as soon as he was alone he could shoot up. And the promise of the euphoria that came with the dilaudid forced him closer to the table without really meaning to. 

“Are you really so sick you have to resort to this just to win a fucked up game?” His voice cracked as he spoke, not able to muster his earlier bravado. 

“You started this game when you lied to me about finding my father. This is on you. You started it, Spencer, I’m just ending it.” She pushed the dilaudid and the needle further over the table towards him. 

“You’ll be dead. You won’t even know if I take it or not.” 

At that, Cat started to cackle again, holding her stomach as she did so. 

“Oh Spencie, you will take it. You’re a drug addict, of course you’ll take it.” 

“Recovering drug addict.” He corrected her. 

“Oh so that makes me a recovering murderer? Grow up, Spencer. Once an addict, always an addict. Who we are never really changes, you proved that by relapsing after all those years.” She folded her arms, signifying she had no intention of taking the drugs back. 

Spencer moved closer to the table and stared at the vial and the needle. He wanted her to be wrong. He needed her to be wrong. But he knew it was true, he knew no matter how many years he was sober he’d always be a drug addict the same way she’d always be a murderer. 

He knew he could stare at that vial all day but the outcome would always be the same. He’d known the minute he saw it in her hand that he wasn’t leaving this room without those drugs. No matter how hard he tried to pretend otherwise. His fate was already sealed. He was a drug addict and his drug of choice was within arms reach. It was as simple as that. 

Wishing he were stronger, he reached for the vial and the needle and snatched them up in his hand before quickly stuffing them in his pants pocket. A devilish smile appeared on Cat’s face as she sat back in her chair and folded her arms in triumph. 

“It’s been really nice playing with you, Spencie.” She chuckled. 

“Enjoy hell you bitch.” He spat, turning as fast as his leg would allow and limping to the door. 

He threw it open and exited the small room, slamming the door behind him. He could still hear Cat laughing from the other side. He pushed his back against the closed door and put his head in his hands. 

The dilaudid felt like a led weight in his pocket, weighing him down as though his pants were full of rocks. He’d let her win. He’d taken the drugs like she knew he would. She knew he couldn’t resist them. And they both knew he was going to take them. He didn’t have the strength not to. She might be about to be put to death but she had still won. She’s beaten him once and for all. 

He tried to compose himself, anger and anticipation filling his body as he thought about the drugs burning a hole in his pocket. He just had to get back to the institute and he could finally have that sweet release he’d been craving for five long weeks. 

He eventually pulled himself together and found Luke and Emily waiting outside the prison. He didn’t even so much as look at Emily, let alone speak to her as motioned Luke to follow him. 

“Let’s go.” He spoke to Luke, heading down the path to the barb wire gate at the end. 

Luke shot Emily a small smile and a shrug before following the other man. They got in Luke’s car in silence and neither of them spoke for quite some time. Luke periodically glanced at Spencer who had his eyes trained out the passenger side window. After close to a half hour of driving in silence, Luke tried to engage him. 

“So, uh…how did it go?” He asked softly. 

“As well as could be expected.” Spencer replied without looking at him. 

“Right.” Luke nodded. “Do you uh…do you wanna talk about Y/N?” 

Spencer’s neck practically snapped with the speed in which he turned to face Luke. His eyes were nearly black as he stared at him. 

“What’s to talk about? I fucked up my brain so much with drugs that I genuinely believed I’d had a whole relationship with a woman. A woman who I thought was an FBI Agent but turned out to be an addict I’d met one time. I fell in love with memories created in my own head. What’s to talk about?” He huffed, turning his attention back out the window. 

“There’s still a chance. It’s not like she didn’t exist entirely. You can make those memories Spencer. But not if you let this thing with Cat destroy you.” 

Spencer caught the look Luke gave him out of the corner of his eye. If he wasn’t mistaken, he could have sworn Luke knew about the stash in his pocket. 

“Don’t let her have the final say.” Luke muttered, focusing back on the road. 

Somehow, Luke knew, Spencer was sure of it. He wasn’t sure why he was being so cryptic about it and not just coming out and saying it. But he was sure knew Luke about the drugs. 

Spencer decided not to say anything and continued to stare at the passing landscape. Neither of them said another word until Luke pulled up in the parking lot of PIW. 

He got out of the car and held his arms open for Spencer. Spencer hugged him briefly before stepping back and scuffing his toe on the concrete. 

“Thanks for today.” He croaked, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He ran his fingers over the cool vial, feeling the anticipation flooding his whole body. 

“Any time man. Just remember what I said.” Luke gave him a small smile. 

“I’ll see you later.” Spencer shrugged, turning away.

Luke watched him limp towards the building entrance. He was sure something had happened with Cat that Spencer would never tell him. He just hoped after the events of today, Spencer would be able to keep his head above water. He prayed this wasn’t his friend's undoing. 

***

It was late by the time Luke dropped him back off and he made his way to his room. The first thing he did was get out of his suit and slip into his pyjama pants and an oversized sweater. He sat on the edge of his bed with the vial and needle and his hand. 

It would be so easy to take it. It would be so easy to shoot up and let his high consume, maybe even kill him. He even got as far as to fill the needle with the drug before twirling it around in his fingers. 

He rolled up his sleeve and used his tie from earlier as a tourniquet. But every time he went to pierce his skin with the needle, Luke’s words permeated his brain. 

“There’s still a chance. It’s not like she didn’t exist entirely. You can make those memories Spencer. But not if you let this thing with Cat destroy you.” 

He wished Luke wasn’t right. He hated that he was. He did still have a chance. You were real even if his memories weren’t. He had a chance to make real memories with you. 

But not if he did this. If he took the drugs he was back at square one. You were already several months into your rehabilitation and would surely have no time for him if he gave into his demons so easily. 

It was killing him to be so close to getting his fix and not actually getting it. It would be the easiest goddamn thing in the world to inject the dilaudid into his veins and deal with the consequences later. But what if those consequences meant losing you for good? 

“There’s still a chance. It’s not like she didn’t exist entirely. You can make those memories Spencer. But not if you let this thing with Cat destroy you.” 

Tears rolled down Spencer's cheeks silently as he fought an internal battle with himself. He was almost proud of how much deliberation this was taking. A few weeks, maybe even a few days ago, he would have taken it without hesitation. 

He paced the small length of the room, needle in hand until his leg screamed for him to stop. But even then he kept pacing a little longer.

He went end to end playing through the events of the day on a loop. Then he started recollecting the last five weeks he’d spent at the institute, everything from waking up with Emily by his bedside, to finding you, meeting Taylor and George and everything in between. 

And once he’d exhausted that he started reliving the small snippets of the past two years he could remember, mostly through the memories his friends had shared. Once his leg was throbbing he sat back down on the bed and stared at the needle once more. 

He spent so long looking at it his eyes started to grow heavy. Maybe things would make more sense after he got some sleep. Maybe he’d wake up in the morning with no reluctance and inject the drugs straight into his vein without a second thought. 

Leaving the tie around his arm, too drained to remove it, he fell back to the bed, tucking the needle and vial and under his pillow. 

And despite all the things playing on his mind, Spencer fell almost immediately into a deep sleep. 

@andiebeaword @muffin-cup @measure-in-pain @dreatine @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @justreadingficsdontmindme @spencer-reid-wonderland @thebloomingeagle @tiredmilky @thatsonezesty13 @1mechanicalalligator @elle-28 @academiareid

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[stop-spreading-this-poll]

Round 1 Poll 30: So Much Over A Mistranslation

One Piece submission:

A while ago a translation of a translation with bad English translated Law's line calling Corazon a ""大好きだった人"" (literally just ""someone [he] loved"") as him being his ""most treasured person"" and people just fucking RAN with it and I still saw it in edits years later. I've always hated it and I always will. People were using it in meta analysis and theory discussion about how he loved Corazon more than his family like,,, he literally did not fucking say that.

Ace Attorney submissions:

Manfred von Karma is not a child abuser!!!!!

Manfred von Karma is a canonical child abuser. That's just fanon and the only ""evidence"" is a mistranslation.

Manfred von Karma is often painted as abusive on fanworks, and while there's technically nothing wrong with that, the people who subscribe to this headcanon often refuse to entertain the idea that what theyre saying is just that. A HEADCANON. Theyre also sometimes downright hostile to anyone who likes Manfred in general. Usually, what they quote as ""proof"" is a line translated incorrectly and likely in bad faith in a side game, or just straight up fanfic. My friend group encounters this so much that we have a name for this phenomenon.

Manfred Von Karma is an abusive father

the fandom says that manfred von karma is canonically an abusive father. he literally isn't.

Manfred von Karma was not a child abuser

Manfred von Karma is a child abuser

manfred von karma beat his kids

these motherfuckers make up SO MUCH DUMB SHIT all the time but the one that kills me most is that they have a widely based fanon that manfred von karma is abusive when it's completely up to interpretation in the games. he's just a mean bitch and a murderer so they decided he beats/grooms/emotionally neglects his kids too and its so boring i took this to another blog and so did a lot of others in the fandom, the ""misinterpreted blorbo""/""he would not fucking say that"" bracket. immediately the mod was FLOODED with these people claiming that i was straightup lying, WITH MORE LIES. the most insane thing i saw was someone said that manfred allegedly burned letters that miles sent to phoenix when they were separated. not only did phoenix never send letters in canon (popular headcanon) but manfred most certainly was never said to have intercepted them! they were literally quoting wrightworth fanfiction they had read or some shit. its so fucking weird. people who see him as just kind of a silly murder dad with a really fucked up place in the story literally get called abuse apologists. and then when we're like 'BRO WHERE IS THE ABUSE' the other side is just like. 'play the game lol!!!!' meanwhile i, autistic, have played it 546445 times and half the people arguing with me watched one LP in like 2013 and have subsisted entirely off of twitter fanon and ao3 every since. please let me exit this hell

Manfred von karma abuses his kids

manfred von karma was abusive reasons it is false: he most definately was not the one line of ""proof"" (from a dubiously canon source) was a mistranslation from japanease to english von karma did not call miles worthless he called him inexperienced yes von karma is a horrible man but he was not a bad father

#stop spreading this insert fandom here poll #one piece #ace attorney #one piece law #one piece corazon #manfred von karma

[hyba]

The Star Seal, drafting

I haven't worked on my Scareuary stories much this past week, as I'm a bit sick. Something about the creative thinking work involved in the writing of a story was a little too much; but now I'm starting to feel a bit more up to it, and I decided I would also start sharing the drafting of my short story wip "The Star Seal".

"The Star Seal" is about an archaeologist who, late one night while working in a museum, removes a star seal from a life-sized ancient statue, unleashing a monster...

This short story is the one that I've been sharing as a Write-With-Me type of thing, so I've been drafting directly on my blog, and now I'm going to be sharing that draft here. It hasn't been edited, and is a very first draft. I'll reblog with any additions, but to get the full process and behind-the-scenes, you'll want to follow it on the blog.

So, without further ado, I present to you my horror story in the works, The Star Seal.

The statue was an oddity, as far as statues from the region went. Perhaps of Akkadian origins, it depicted what seemed to be an anthropomorphic creature, with the head of a woman, and the clawed legs of some kind of raptor - perhaps a vulture. The figure wore a robe, but there was something about it that seemed stiff, thick, not quite... fabric-like. There was what seemed to be a headdress, though the sculptor hadn't been particularly detailed, and it might have also been a pair of wings. While the position of the wings was strange, it was not unknown for the Akkadians to present Ishtar as a winged creature. For that reason alone, and the fact that the figure seemed evidently female, and that it had been dated to the Akkadian period, many scholars believed this to be a statue of Ishtar.

He wasn't so certain. Something about this statue was... off. He ran his fingers over its stone surface, taking note of every single ridge, bump, indent, and abnormality. In fact, the whole thing was rather a strange abnormality, when taking into consideration contemporary pieces of art which held a realism to them that this could not begin to replicate. 

Certainly, it was an unsettling piece, with its sunken eyes, staring darkly out at him, and its life-sized proportions, but so were many depictions of Ishtar. It was entirely possible that this was a nuanced and unique representation, but he simply couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else to it. 

The carriers had helped him move the statue, such that it lay upon a table, tilted slightly onto one side, so that he could investigate and study it more thoroughly. Were it not for them, the small, peculiar, circular figure at the bottom of the pedestal upon which the statue's clawed feet were clenched might have gone completely unnoticed.  

It was perhaps five inches in diameter, and seemed to jut out ever so slightly from the rest of the statue's base. The circular piece depicted a nine-pointed star with a circle around it. At first glance, he almost conceded. Clearly, if the very symbol of Ishtar was engraved in the bottom of the statue, his previous suppositions of false identity were wrong. But Ishtar's symbol was an eight-pointed star, not a nine-pointed star, and he generally speaking, people didn't make such mistakes when it came to these things. 

What did a nine-pointed star symbolize? He wracked his mind, but found nothing. Deep in thought, he reached out and traced the edges of the stone seal with his fingers. As he did, he felt it give slightly. To his astonishment, the seal turned in its place. Fascinated, he turned it little by little until he felt a significant cluck, and out the seal came, a cylindrical thing of perhaps seven inches in height. 

For a moment, it was all he could do to stare blankly at the stone cylinder in his hand, and stare again at the gaping hole where it had been hidden. A chill rushed up and down his spine, and he shook himself slightly, trying to regain his composure. This was new. This was a new discovery - nobody else knew of this, or it would have been in the notes! 

He glanced around, half-expecting his supervisor to step into the room and take the star seal from him, but of course that was nonsense. He was working late - that was the deal. If he wanted to do any research of his own, he'd have to stay after hours and do it. But, during work hours, all he worked on was his supervisor's research, his papers, even his darned blog posts. Any discoveries made during that time were his supervisor's discoveries, and any mention of his hard work or contributions almost never happened.  

He was thankful, of course, to have even that opportunity. It was like the old man to deny him all chances completely, but he'd been in a rather good mood of late, due to a terrible book of his getting a feature in some magazine or other, and of course he'd taken advantage of the situation immediately. 

So, this was his time. And this was his discovery - he was going to make sure of it. Nobody was going to take this away from him.

#writeblr #writing #amwriting #horror #the star seal #my wips

[stingrayloveblog]

Whee side order

My thoughts on it! THERE WILL BE SPOILERS!! Youve been warned.

So, here are my honest thoughts. Let me just start by warning further that this is mostly negative.

Took me about two hours and one attempt to beat all 30 floors. Was pretty fun. I used splattershot though because i suck at dualies.

But... it felt very quick. Felt like there was a whole lotta nothing plotwise, too. It was fun, but the plot is pretty weak. Its just another rogue-ai-tries-to-assimilate-everyone plot. Which has already been done. For some reason they keep trying to do octo expansion but again and they keep failing to do that.

Taking everything into consideration, acht really had no reason to be there. You could remove acht entirely and have the same results. And im not just saying that because i dont like dedf1sh. They dont add anything to anything.

I havent unlocked all marinas dev notes but so far theres been her motive of saving the sanitized octarians which......... i have my own personal issues with that. They seem to not be able to decide how they want sanitization to work.

Doing the pallets, i assumed they would give you some memory thing related to the associated character, but you just get a stupid little comment from the post-final boss that doesnt really add anything to the plot or the characters. Also murch is on luna blaster for some reason. I was speculating a lot on who luna blaster and octobrush could be assigned to, but seems like theyre just doing anyone. Murch is very irrelevant to everything as a whole so its kinda just like whatever.

That being said, i feel extremely bad for agent 4 fans. Those humanoid red eyed things with one of them looking like 4 and then them not doing anything with that at all was a huge fake out.

From what i saw, a lot of people were theorizing and expecting things based on all the evidence we got that we never did end up getting because they went an entirely different route. No agent 4 being possessed or whatever (unless thats still true and just unlocked much later, which im hoping because it would make everything a lot more interesting), no implied body swapping, no copybots.

And most of all, nothing from the first trailer we got. With all the concept art. I know it was just CONCEPT art for a reason, but surely you cant just show off all these things and then have the final result be absolutely nothing like it? Then again, splatoon 3 has had more than enough false advertising already, so i guess it was wrong to expect things to be as shown. I just really really liked the giant hostile architecture black spikes picture. And theres none of that at all.

Basically, everything that was expected was significantly cooler than what we got, and to be completely honest, i dont think it was worth splatoon 3 being in really bad shape for such a long time. I dont think it really justified the amount of dumb things that happened over the past few seasons.

I do still think its fun, and i absolutely am going to try to collect everything, but it was significantly less interesting overall than i anticipated.

I do think the final boss attacks syncing with the rhythm was cool. But other than that the level design is extremely repetitive and there really is no variation. Im only enjoying it now because ive used weapons that i like/dont mind using, but once i have to start using weapons im bad at i just know itll be insufferable.

Overall, i am unfortunately disappointed but i still have hope that maybe there is something more, because surely that couldnt have been it.

Also just because it doesnt go along with any of my oc stories at all and i am absolutely not changing anything on my end because frankly im sick of doing that

#and if you dont agree with me thats perfectly fine and i dont want to hear it #splatoon 3 #weaponblog #side order

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Chloe Cole

Published: May 18, 2023

Yesterday, New York Times reporter Maggie Astor published a hit piece about me in an attempt to undermine my story and the testimonies of other detransitioners. Now that I’ve had some time to process everything more completely, I’d like to address some of the inaccuracies and falsehoods that Astor wrote about me—beginning with the disingenuous title, “How a Few Stories of Regret Fuel the Push to Restrict Gender Transition Care.” 

I take issue with Astor’s flagrant use of the word “regret,” which implies a benign mistake like a bad tattoo—something I wasn’t even allowed to get until I turned 18 last year. No, I was a child when I was misinformed and misled by adults, who convinced me to permanently alter my body. 

I learned through social media when I was 11 about boys and girls being trapped in the “wrong body”—an impossibility that should never have been “affirmed” by doctors. I was told by health professionals whom I trusted that I had a medical condition that required medical treatment. Not only that, but my parents were emotionally manipulated by being presented with a false dilemma—“would you rather have a dead daughter or a living son?”—despite the fact that suicidality is routinely overexaggerated in trans-identified youth.

Astor relies on the euphemism “transition care” when she means “chemical and surgical sex change services.” This is neither medically necessary nor lifesaving, but rather elective, cosmetic, and experimental.

Astor also flippantly refers to my detransition as “changing course,” implying I merely took a wrong turn instead of having doctors affirm my confusion with experimental medicine. She says I “returned to my female identity,” but being female is not an identity. It is a biological reality that describes half the human population. It is something I never stopped being despite the fact that when I was 13-15, doctors prescribed me puberty blockers, cross-sex hormones and surgically removed my breasts to try to mold me into something that superficially resembled a boy.

Astor neglects to mention the vocal European detransitioners and how European medical societies have backed off of “gender-affirming care” after conducting systematic reviews of evidence and finding that the risks outweigh any purported benefits. She also referred to outdated statistics on detransition which include studies on adults rather than the cohort I belong to—adolescents under the “gender-affirming” model of care. These studies also had serious methodological flaws and a high loss to follow up rate.

Another statistic she likely referenced was from a study about detransitioners that specifically excluded detransitioners. Participation in the study was limited only to those who had detransitioned in the past but still identified as trans–in other words, not people like me.

If Astor had researched the topic properly, she would have discovered a recent US-based comprehensive review of medical records that found 30 percent of teens and young adults had discontinued “gender-affirming” hormones after 4 years. Another US study from this year that challenges the notion that detransition is rare found that 29 percent of youth changed their requests for hormone treatment, surgery, or both. And yet another study from a UK primary care practice found that 12.2 percent of those who had started hormonal treatments either detransitioned or documented regret, while the total of 20 percent stopped the treatments for a wider range of reasons. The authors of this study observed that the detransition rate in emerging research brings forth crucial concerns regarding the possibility of “overdiagnosis, overtreatment, or iatrogenic harm,” similar to issues encountered in other areas of medicine. 

A 2021 study found that three-quarters of detransitioners did not report their detransition to their providers, thus potentially creating a false impression that they were satisfied with the “care” they received. Norway’s health authorities confirm that detransitioners updating their providers is “not a given.”

It is not true that there are only a few vocal detransitioners in the US. Many have spoken out online, but only a few have the time to travel and testify. It’s not easy to open yourself up to an onslaught of criticism, blame, and hit pieces from the New York Times. It’s not easy to go public with details of your private life.

There have been many instances of detransitioners getting overwhelmed from the response to their story and deactivating their social media accounts. Hundreds more reside in support groups and remain anonymous, not wanting the stigma and negative attention.

Lawmakers shouldn’t have to restrict sex changes to adults, but US-based medical organizations are not doing their job at following the science. If they would conduct systematic reviews of the evidence, they would likely come to the same conclusions as European countries, which have heavily restricted medical interventions for minors and specific psychotherapy as the “first line of treatment” for teens in distress over their bodies. 

US-based guidelines ignored an entire body of research that found the majority of children who do not socially or medically transition will no longer experience gender-related distress in adulthood. Instead, most of them grow up to be gay or lesbian adults.

Pioneers of the evidence-based medicine (EBM) movement said the current guidelines for managing gender dysphoria in adolescents in the US are “untrustworthy” and not evidence-based.

Astor took a shot at me for the detransition rally I helped organize in March, but our event was exactly how I planned. My heart hurts every time I see a new detransitioner come out, but soon our numbers will be too large for the New York Times to dismiss as a “few stories of regret.”

Support Chloe Cole by donating here.

#Chloe Cole #detrans #detransition #queer theory #gender ideology #medical transition #medical malpractice #hit piece #affirm or suicide #religion is a mental illness

[braindead94]

Little blue lady and the big black cat 18+

Werecat!Andres x Cop!Reader

Happy Spooky Month! Today is werecat Andres Galan for Spooky month and it's a frisky night tonight! Hope Ya'll enjoy!

TW: Gun Violence, blood, Magic, magical violence, Minors DNI, reader is a cop, horrible spanish spelling (on my part)

A happy sigh left your smiling lips as you sat back in your seat. The patrol today turned out to be a nice one, even if it was in LA. Nothing wrong living here, but as a cop… well, the media just loves to bash on the boys in blue and the public has a thing or two to add to that.

You looked at the moving imagery of the people and buildings outside of your moving vehicle, your partner bobbing his head in the tune of the song from the radio.

You and Buddy just diddly bop by some neighborhoods, met up with some kids playing basketball (and shot some hoops with them), met up with some friendly veterans who (kinda) took over a bench overlooking a playground, and help a man moving his stuff out of his ex apartment (mostly to make sure she wouldn’t make any false accusations on him, the poor man has been through enough already).

Then got a noise complaint from a part that was being too loud with raunchy music that turned out to be a Quinseanera party for a lovely 15 year old girl who invited almost everyone in her neighborhood (except for that one lady, which you two quickly learned why, cranky old bitch). The parents were super nice enough to give you two some delicious pastries and some soft tacos for the road.

“Feeling good?” Asked Buddy as he glanced around with an aloof attitude. “Feeling full. Man, that family is super chill and are great cooks. I’m kinda tempted to just patrol past their streets again if they are handing out some free food again.” He laughed as he said “Well, I asked around the family and they are the proud owners of a family restaurant that has been here for a long time.” “Pleeeaase tell me you got the restaurant's name?” He gave you a smirk with a nod, earning himself a high-five from you before continuing on to keep a look out at the streets.

You glanced outside too as you sat straighter, just to be safe. This part of the city was not the safest to be around, even for the police. Normally, those activities involve some gang violence, something about stepping onto their turf or some bullshit that these punks got into their heads. Lately though, it has gotten worse. Now the little gangs are disappearing as the bigger threat, the bigger fish that eat the little fish, wipe them all with very little effort. 

Now there are signs of drug dealings, mini fight clubs and even sex trafficking; and the people are starting to get affected by them. Weirdly enough, some of the markings on the victim's body had animal marks, so your lab concluded that they have been using animals to kill them off. Really big cats.

Though it is becoming clear (or allegedly) that the main gang belonged to the notorious leader, Andres Galan, or as many mexican folks would call him “El Gran Leon”. Based on what pictures you've seen of him (which you admit that he is very attractive, but that was your secret to keep), from news blogs and from the evidence room, he does resemble a little bit like a lion. Or somewhat a regal feline animal. Or just a fat cat.

How he evaded their countless times of arrests, you never know. Only relying on one rumor that when the first, and only, guy to slap handcuffs on him, Galan snapped his body in two. Looking back at the mob boss, you doubt that he has the strength to pick up even a tall child above his head unless he was a secret powerlifter.

Regardless, he was still dangerous and had a warrant on him for years before you joined the police force. You and Buddy kept silent as you dove on peacefully when you came upon a secret strip club that was closed this time of night.

“Hey, what’s that?” Looking up, you saw what he was pointing at.

A black fancy looking car parked inside of a dark alleyway, and just stepping out was the man in question was none other than Andres Galan followed by one burly man. The Mexican boss walked up and into a hidden door with a stripper logo, turned off, and the man stood beside the door with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Buddy stopped right there, both of you staring at this bizarre chance of an opportunity before you looked at each other in a comical fashion. Quickly, he parked it close to the sidewalk (almost on top of it) as you called it into the station.

The reception turned out to be bad, you furrowed your eyebrows at the not fun coincidence of it all before Buddy ready his gun at your side. “I’m not getting a clear call from them. We shouldn’t go in if this gets out of hand.” 

“No, this man has somehow evaded our arrests and has gotten a lot of good people hurt and killed. He needs to be taken down now.” You sighed as he jumped out and moved quietly to the brick wall of the building while rechecking if you have all of your gear in your belt. You followed suit, also drawing your gun out.

He peeked around the corner, and you stood stiff, ready for anything. Your partner motioned ‘lets go’ and you followed closely behind him. The muscular man was whistling a tune when he cocked his gun at him. “Put your hands behind your head, and don't make any sudden moves.” The man just looked down at him, seemingly unbothered but slowly complied. 

You trained your gun on him while Buddy took out the cuffs with ease and tightened the metal bands on him. “Y/n, you go in and scope out the place. See if you can find Galan and stop him from whatever he’s doing.”

“You two are making a big mistake. You might want to skip out on making arrests tonight.” Said the man with a shaved head with a smirk that was held in a secret. Your eyebrows furrowed down at his words, your gut bubbling with worry. ‘How is he this calm?’ You wondered. “The biggest mistake I’ve made today was eating too many soft tacos. Now, I’m going to read you your rights and you are going to follow my every order. Understand?” Buddy commanded in his deadpan voice that demanded attention.

The man smirk then showed his teeth, his tongue sticking out to lick the crooked canines. “Of course, officer. Anything you say.” He said with a hot and eager voice. An uncomfortable tingle slithered up your spine when you heard his voice as you entered the club.

It was a lot smaller than the other strip clubs you’ve seen, but a hella nicer than others. More fancy with plush furniture, blackened marble tables and an elegant stage with poles erected from the floor to the ceiling. Even the air didn’t smell like sex or drugs, it smelled like… flowery spices or something warm. It almost made you want to take off your bulletproof vest, but you ignore it. The whole establishment showed wealth and the guise of a gentleman's club, and luckily has no patrons.

But no Andres, however there was a short, curvy woman who stood frozen near a closed door. She looked tired, frightened with some of her make-up still caked on her sudden face and a blue, fluffy robe clutched around her body. Her golden curls rain down on her shoulders beautifully, covering her ears as well. She stared at you, her body shaking like a leaves on a tree in the wind. 

You immediately lowered your gun and made yourself look friendly but kept your distance. Just in case. “Hey hun, I’m sorry for startling you. But I’m here for Andres Galan, do you know where he is?” The woman only stares back at you. Her eyes almost threw you off, they were the brightest color of purple you’ve ever seen. Not humanly possible, but you pushed it aside as contacts.

“A-are you going to arrest him?” her voice was shaken, her body swaying towards the door. You nodded as you explained “Yes, he has an arrest on him for a while and needs to be taken in for his crimes. I understand you have a job to do, ma’am, but there are better clubs that have better and kinder bosses and staff without having to entertain crime lords like him.”

She frowned, making her face look unpleasant and sour. There was a slight buzzing sound coming from her and her robe moved a bit. “My boss treats me and the girls just right. I don’t need anyone else, or any other places!” You apologize, trying to keep her calm with a lower and softer tone with her. 

“Just-please, ma’am. I need to find him and take him in. He has done a lot of harm and had people killed. He has traffic drugs, sex traffic and that’s only the scratch on top of the iceberg. You don’t have to go anywhere, but you need to leave tonight.” She paused, the windows of her eyes showing you a great debate in her mind. 

 “So, you’re going in and just… arrest him in handcuffs? Just like that?” You frowned, puzzled at her how sudden her voice became stronger. The way she's looking at you with unknown hatred and distrust, it didn’t sit right with you. ‘What type of question is that?’ “Yes, I will. I don’t want you to get hurt, so I need you to go somewhere safe.” ‘Shit, is she loyal to him? Perhaps he’s her favorite customer-’ She cut off your thinking process as she pointed at the door she was near. Her eyes clear with a decision made, but also with her body slumped in relief.

“He’s in there, waiting for me. Good luck tying him down, sweetie.” She said with a mockingly sweet tone before she walked off fast on her high heels. Your eyes just followed her as she sauntered away into a staff only door, taken aback of her change of attitude. ‘What is her problem? Should I get this place looked into?’ 

You refocused to the door and schooled your face to remain neutral, cocking your gun at the ready, finger off the trigger and your body stiff with anticipation. ‘Deep breath, in…and out…. okay.’ 

You barged in, no knocking or any warning and came face to face with Andres, the big so-called ‘lion’. Still wearing his gray suit and his cream shirt still buttoned up standing near a desk with a notebook and pencil. The room was dark like the outside, but had pink furniture, the bed with see-through curtains, a cozy chair and the desk he was at. 

Andres turned sharply; his dark eyes boring into yours as you raised the gun at him as his wavy dark with silver hair swept away in the air. Your eyes quickly darted around the room and saw that he was the only one inside.

“Andres Galan, you have a warrant for your arrest. You have the right to remain silent as I read you your rights. Failing to comply will result in physical harm.” You gave him the same command that Buddy did to the first man as you stood firm, followed up with his rights being told to him.

The tall, portly (and hot, holy fuck! Why is he this good looking?) man just raised a thick eyebrow at you, smiling through his mustache and stubble beard as if he heard a good joke. Nodding his head while gesturing at your uniform, he starts talking in a baritone voice. “I see you girls have amped up your costumes. Gun looks real too-” 

He stopped as he sniffed the air, then frowned. His nose sniffed again as his big eyes looked at your tool of weapon in your still hands, then to your name tag on your heavy vest. You ignored his comment and stalked closer to him. “I will not repeat myself; put your hands behind you.”

Andris placed his notebook on the desk with a “Ah, I see. I don’t suppose I could buy your silence of seeing me tonight?” Your scowling face told him off. “Well then,” Then the Latino held his hands in front of him, his smile returning, but with a dark twist in his lips and a hunger in his dark eyes. “Take me away, Officer Y/n. I’m all yours.” 

That same feeling from the first guy returned, but much stronger when you cuffed Galan's hands from behind. Once the taller man was secured, you radio Buddy on your walkie talkie with a firm hand on the mob boss jacket. Probably the closest you’ll ever feel actual expensive silk for a while. “Officer Bently, do you copy?”

Static was your reply, and the feeling grew as the milliseconds ticked by. “Officer Bently, do you copy?” You asked again but didn’t get anything but static again. “Shit.” You muttered as you made Galan sit down on the pink armchair, acting along with your directions. “Anything wrong, Senora Y/n?” You turned to look at him, sitting back and relaxed (as relaxed as one could with both hands cuffed behind his back) and looking up at you, like a cat looking innocently after knocking something off the table.

You glanced at him to stay silent, then almost froze how his gaze looked. His handsome, plumb face, his dark eyes, that damn smile just oozes mischievous.

Something isn’t right.

“Bently, I need you to answer me now.” Your voice was harsher with begging, worry laced in with your tone. It was only that one guy that Andris was with, right? Was there more in the car? Static filled in the blanks until it was cut off by Buddys voice, which sounded frantic as he shouted “Y/N! You need to get out!”

 Your hand reached for your gun as you moved to the door. “Bently! Talk to me-” But your radio was cut off too short, leaving you standing near the door with your hand on your holster. Your heart beating fast, the all too familiar feeling of fear coursed through your veins along with powerlessness.

You hated that feeling.

Taking out your phone turned out to have the same results, no reception and no chance of calling backup. “Looks like you need to get your phone plan rechecked, Senorita Cerda.” Your back straightens out as you turn around with your blood heated that shoves aside the uncomfortable feeling. “Despite what I look like, I actually know how to speak Spanish. So lay off the insults and maybe your ride to jail won't be in broken arms, anciano.” 

He just let out a laugh, still relaxed even after your threat, and that made your anger grow more. However, now was not the time to get mad and Buddy needed help. But you can’t leave Andries alone.

You spotted the pink phone and made for it, ready to dial 911. Just as you were finished dialing it in, you looked at your suspect and froze.

He was still looking at you with those damn, hooded eyes and that smirk on his plump face. Still sitting with his hands folded in his lap, watching your every move-

…….His hands were supposed to be cuffed behind his back.

You stormed in front of him as you grabbed the second handcuffs. “Nice magic trick, gatito, but the next time you pull that again, you’ll come in with broken wrists.” You said, just before he grabbed your hand in a tight hold. “Ah, so you have heard of me. This will make this much more interesting.” He said with his Spanish accent before he pushed you away.

You almost flew back to the wall, nearly stumbling with surprise just how strong he is, he didn’t even look like he used his whole strength to do that. ‘He’s just bigger and taller than you. Not like you have arrested anyone his size before.’ You think as your hands reach for your gun holster, but you froze again when you look, REALLY look at him.

The tall man slowly stood up, almost taller than you first saw him and started walking towards you slowly. You eyed his suit, how it clings to him as if it was too small for him. How the buttons on his shirt was straining against his chest (Holy FUCK does it detail his pecs nicely). His pants were straining against his hips and-

You avoided looking down.

This isn’t right. His clothes fit him when you first saw him. How did it change? You looked back at him and he almost chuckled at your questioning look. “Worried about my attire? There’s no need to be, I have plenty of others back home.” He said with a deep rumble in his voice.

“Stay back, or I will open fire.” You threaten as you draw your weapon. He stopped but didn’t back up, just eyes at your gun again and sighed in a tired tone while smoothing his hair back with his eyes closed. Like he was disappointed. “Y/n, it would be wise of you to not draw your weapons at me. You’ll end up getting harmed.”

His eyes opened back on you and a shiver jolted up your spin.

Andres' eyes changed into feline pupils, with glowing bright green eyes and black surrounding the green instead of whites. There was a sound of a button snapping off his shirt. You looked and saw his chest wider than before with dark hair growing on his skin. The sleeves ripping, bulging with muscles, controuting longer as well as his legs. He walked up to you again, like a cat stalking a prey.

Or like a lion.

Snapping out of your stupor stare, you aimed your gun at him, but his large hand, much larger now, grabbed hold of it. You shrek as you manage to withdraw your hand in time, and watch with growing horror as his fingers bend the metal. The magazine was dropped to the ground first before the end was bent out of shape. You saw with fear as his nails grew longer, sharper and darker.

Looking back at him, you backed away when you saw how his face changed too. Shit, you had to tilt your head back, for he grew taller again. More angler with black hair-no, fur sprouted on his skin. His hair grew too, darker that framed around his head and shoulders, like a mane. Andres smiled that only a cat could make, and his teeth looked SHARP.

“Well, what would you do now, mi Querido cerdito? You were speaking so boldly, so fierce,” He said, his voice deeper, rougher like gravel in honey. Your back hit the wall and your hands palmed at it like a lifeline, pushing at it if it could part open for you to escape. “But now you are so silent. What's wrong, cat got your tongue?” He chuckled, his laugh rumbled in his chest, which was still growing out of his suit.

He finally stood in front of you, laing a hand on the wall next to your head. You could hear how his bones are changing into something else, something monstrous. Still changing and not yet done!

A claw grazed under your chin, and you shivered as it trailed up and down your throat. His eyes never left yours, boring into yours with fiery intent; so much of a primal lust that no man or woman could make. “What pretty eyes you have there, with such lovely lips to match. I can’t wait to hear you squeal.” Your heart stilled that second.

Your hands immediately shot to your taser with practice ease and you shot him in the stomach. The taller man-creature, snarl in pain and stumbles back, giving you a wider area to escape.

You dashed out of the room and straight for the door, going past your record speed. Grasping at the door handle, you twisted it but it wouldn’t budge. 

Panic mixed in with fear as you tried to twist it again, only to pull at it, then kicking the door in hopes for any results. But the accursed metal door didn’t budge.

You hear more growling from the room along with more ripping and snapping. Sounds unnatural that only a horror movie could depict Something in your mind warning you that he was almost done, soon he’s ready to get out and hunt for you.

Looking around and spotting a few other doors, you dashed to one farthest away from where Andres was and went inside, closing and locking it. Looking around, you noted it was the same built as it is in the first one and you set out to barricade the door with the desk.

Then backed up with pepper spray in your trembling hand and in the other, your phone. You tried calling your captain. Nothing, just static. Then to your chief. More static. Sweat was trickling down your skin as you looked through your contacts for help until you heard heavy footsteps outside the room.

‘Fuck…. He’s out.’ You looked at the pink door, praying that Andres wouldn’t look for you. That he grew bored of you and went after… oh God, you couldn’t dream of having him hunting down another soul. Fuck! Is that what happened to Buddy?!

You were about to try another contact, another life line that hopefully would rescue you from this nightmare-

A long, hard scratch was made outside of your door.

You stood still, holding your phone. Looking at the door.

“Little pig, little pig, let me in.” Came a dark, husker voice with the crime lord's voice from behind the door. You backed up again until the back of your knees hit the bed. In your haze of dismay, you dropped your phone and almost along with your spray too. ‘This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening-’ You repeated in your head, tears starting to flow down your cheeks.

“If you come out now, I promise I won't harm a single hair on your little chin.” He said with a mocking, sweet tone that only made his voice sound more terrifying. You did nothing. “I can hear your heartbeat, Y/n.” There was another scratch on the door. It bends under the pressure, followed by a low growl. “It sounds sweet, like a bird confined in a cage. I can smell the fear in your blood, it smells so heavenly. There is no way out for you, and no cell to call from. It will only get worse if you continue to defy me. Open the door and let me in, bonito cobre.”

It took everything to yelled-no, screamed “FUCK OFF!!!” at the door. Following behind that was a low growl mixed with a elation laugh, as if he was dared for a challenge. “Then I’ll crush this door down,” The door bent again, but more closely to a breaking point. “And I’ll catch you,” He growled again, but much more deeper. More husker. And much more deadly, ready to create malignant destruction. “And I’ll make you beg for your life, little cerdita.”

You didn’t say anything, you didn’t dare move.

The door splintered as black claws punctured into it and ripped it away. In a blind panic kicked in with muscle memory of escape from your training, you dashed and slid on the floor under a dark mass that almost blocked your way like a baseball player. You stumbled up and turned to see your attacker, then completely fell down in horror.

The hulking thing-fuck, no…. a cat-lion-werelion, turned around to face you. God he was fucking TALLER then the last time you saw him. His whole body was wide as he was tall, with muscles covered in black fur, a tail swished gently behind him as his hinds legs moved towards you. You looked up, up, up at him and almost stopped moving.

His face, now very much like a lion, was grinning. Some gray fur was sprouting from his fluffy chin and around his cheeks and ears. Even his mane had some silver in it too. And his green eyes……. They bore into your frightened eyes, piercing like a dagger into a flying fish.

He growled in amusement as he knelt down on all fours, stalking you closer until he was nearly close to your trembling body. Like a lion stalking its prey, with his tail swaying behind him. “Well, what now, copper? Do you still want to try to cuff me again, or are you ready to lay down and be a good, little pig.”  

You glanced around the wide room, looking for anything in desperation for-wait! The staff room! A possible escape!

You shot your arm out and dosed his nose with the pepper. He hissed like an injured cat pricking its claw on a cactus and you sprinted to it, practically throwing your body against the door. You tried to turn the knob but it wouldn’t budge. You swore as you screamed for help, calling for the dancer whom you saw.

A muffled voice called out from behind the wooden door. “Just give up, bitch! It will be sooooo much easier to let him have at it, TRUST me. Make sure you use lots of lube!” “Please! He’s going to kill me!” “Ehhh, wouldn’t be the first time he spilt blood like this. Probably the main reason why he always asks for fairies to do him off. We are more capable of handling that fucking meat he’s packing.”

‘Fairies?!’ You think in that frantic state before giving up and throwing your body against the door again and again. There were some shouts of ‘Stop it’ and ‘We just paid off the paint in this joint!’ until a big hand slammed against your back, shoving your body against the door.

Before you could do anything, his face appeared on your shoulder with a bite that nearly pierced through your vest. You screamed loudly when you felt his teeth almost tearing into your skin. The hand, fuck-it was wider then your back, pushed your body harder onto the wood as his mighty jaws slowly clinch onto your shoulder harder, but never completed his bite. You cried as you begged him to stop while your hands tried to reach behind you.

Andres released your shoulder, leaving a bit of drool on your bulletproof vest (holy crap, his teeth can rip into it!) and shirt before he nosed into your hair. Smelling it before he whispered into your ear with a rumble in his voice, his body rumbled as he spoke. “Now, here’s what is going to happen, querida. If you continue to fight against me, I will not be kind.” 

You felt claws digging into your sides, nearly breaking your skin. “I will fuck your brains out with no regard for your wellbeing. You’ll be found in a dumpster, unrecognizable, all torn to pieces like a used sex doll. Or,” The werelion licked at the bite while the claws eased up on your sides. “If you comply, if you let me have you for tonight, I’ll be gentle.”

Your tears flowed down your cheeks as you blinked your eyes shut. Only to open them when his nose nuzzled into your face. “I can make you feel good, make it worth your while. You must be tired from your hazardise job, I can ease your tension. Then I’ll let you live on to protect those poor civilians you work so hard to protect. I’ll even tell Elvio to ease up on your partner.” You became *painfully* aware just how fucked you are, caged in by him. Your face was shoved against the wall, how you could FEEL him slouching over you, like a hulking wall of muscel and fur.

“Maybe I could even make you cum harder than anyone else has ever had, stuffed your little cunt until it overflows over my cock.” ‘ Oh Jesus have mercy.’ You think as your face turns red, trying to ignore how his voice with his stupid, hot spanish accent, what his promise made your insides feel. 

Maybe…… maybe you could survive this. Just for one night. Just…fuck the monster and hopefully he keeps his word and lets you and Buddy live.

You let out a whimper, trying to convey words into sentences. “O-o-okay-” His huge, furry head leaned against yours as his hand pressed harder again. “Hmm? Please speak up, darling. I didn’t quite catch that.” He asked with mockery in his deep voice and a smirk on his lips before it kissed your cheek.

You gasped in as much air as you could and shouted “Okay! Just-Please call him off Bently and-GAH!” You screamed as he backed up and flipped you on your back to the wall.

“All in good time, pequeno cerdo. But first, lets us get rid of this infernal vest of yours.” With only the tip of his claws and with one hand still around your neck, tore through your bulletproof vest. Your armor, your only shield becomes shredded like aluminum while ruining your shirt and bra. You shrek as your arms went to stop him in vain but Andres just held your hands and raised them over your head.

His dark eyes, the green just glowing with lust as he stared down at your breasts, how it moves when you're gasping for air, the slight plump of your stomach that almost overtook your abs, and how the muscles of your arms bulge out to break free. He saw a few fading bruises and little scars all over your body, reminding him of how dangerous your job really is besides patrolling the city and eating donuts.

Just look at you, your tear-stained face that still showed teeth at him, your wide eyes never leaving his own or his body. Full of fear, God, such delightful fear, but inside that fright sight of yours was a need. To protect your partner? Most likely. The need to take him down for his crimes? Absolutely. To fuck him? No, not possible what you really wanted.

He couldn’t lie to himself; you are just another cop just doing your job to protect these people like him and he had or shouldn’t be having these feelings for good cops. Yet, a hidden part of him just wanted to hold you in his clawed hands and never let you go, but that would compilated things later on. In fact, he should kill you off and let a corrupt cop take your place. That’s what a crime lord would do.

But he isn’t like most petty criminals, no. He’s a powerful one. A monster hidden among Humans.

Well, this monster is just drooling at how appetizingly helpless you look in his hands.

His nose nuzzles between your breasts, smelling your sweat. If you had the power to phase through walls, you would have done so to get away from his face so close to you. “Oh Y/n,” His voice purrs as he licks his way up to your neck. You cringe at the rough sandpaper like texture scraping up your skin-shit, you can’t ignore how good it feels. “I’m going to completely ruin you forever.” His face nuzzles into your neck, smelling the bite he left on your skin. “Tonight, I’ll make you mine.”

Those words should not have turned you on as it should. “G-g-great, but about my part-” You were cut off again with a yelp as he picked you up (with ONE HAND) and you were hugged against his soft, furry chest. The feeling of his padded fingers on your butt was the only warning you’ve got before he tore apart your pants and shoes too. Not even the underwear was spared.

You blinked as you're now naked in the arms of a tall werelion, who is a criminal boss in a stripper club. With a possibility to die by him, if he decided to go back on his word. You sent a silent prayer in hopes for survival as you gripped onto tufts of his fur (shit, they are super soft).

A clawed hand held you closer to his chest and you heard him purr again as you felt him moving. You glanced up and your blood turned cold when you saw him looking down at you with hunger in his eyes. “Now, let's retire and fulfill that deal, estimada cobre.”

#alfred molina #fanfic #minors dni #ao3 fanfic #Andres Galan #Matador tv #Spooky month #Werecat #lycanthrope #halloween 2023

[ofdreamsanddoodles]

the thing about dual destinies is that it refuses to introduce a problem that can’t be fixed by the end of the game, which basically ruins all the stakes. phoenix HAS to blame himself for producing false evidence, because otherwise the game would have to admit that the person who gave him that evidence WAS ANOTHER DEFENSE ATTORNEY. as long as the main focus is on people who were unfairly convicted, then everything can be neatly wrapped up with simon going free & edgeworth cleaning up the prosecutor’s office offscreen. it’s trying to insist there are no systematic issues despite presenting a system where everyone is constantly forging evidence, because it was all based on a misunderstanding, and now that misunderstanding is over everything is better now! like, dude... if that was the dark age of law then how do you guys handle popping a tire because it’s not looking like anyone here is so great at facing adversity

like, in turnabout academy juniper is on trial for murder, something that someone, in game, is getting the death penalty for, and something that, in all other games, has almost always led to execution, and yet the biggest problem juniper has is that if she’s convicted of a crime she won’t be able to graduate. like, so jail isn’t a problem here? she’s just going to get convicted of murder & then just let go? but at the same time, the game HAS to have that be the case, because if teenage girls were really getting the death penalty, that’s a problem phoenix wright can’t fix. not being able to graduate is a bummer for sure, yeah, but all of themis’ harsher policies are supposed to be a sign of how far the legal system has fallen. if the dark age of law is over, (and also the teacher that was deciding these harsher rules is now in jail) then presumably all these policies will go away & themis is fine now. even sol starbuck is worried more about the fact he won’t be able to go to space if he’s in jail then the fact he is being prosecuted by someone who will like. literally die for sol’s presumed crime. it completely ruins any urgency about simon being on death row because like if everyone else is getting off so easily & he’s supposed to be an incredibly harsh prosecutor then what the fuck is wrong with simon that he’s the only one who’s going to die for this?

#simon should have just gotten life inprisonment if they were gonna do that route it woulda worked better #ace attorney #aa5 #im wondering if part of it is that it got pacified in translation #because i know a lot of kids animes end up getting censored a bit #but also i can imagine that maybe critiques about the police are probably not that popular in any country #at least not when the person funding you is like. nintendo #a plays aa #aster speaks

[laniemae]

for ask game: 1, 3, 5 for Es and 5, 6, 8, 9, 10 for Amane~

This took a lot longer than I would’ve liked it to be I think I just turned this into a massive analysis rather than a simple ask game lmao.

Es 1: definitely this line.

“Ravaging, brawling, losers please exit left

Even with accusations full of faults and mistakes

You will for sure, with a smile for sure 

Be pleased and satisfied”

This is clearly talking about the audience and it’s really interesting. I know the chorus does as well but how this appears in the scene where all the prisoners cover their mouths while their images are projected onto the rooms, then lift their hands down and smile is especially haunting. 

The idea of “ravaging, brawling, losers please exit left” has a lot of interpretations. It could be the prisoners fighting amongst themselves, or in my opinion the audience fighting among themselves over the prisoners verdicts and stuff. I still don’t really understand what “losers please exit left” means as it’s so ambiguous, it’s like I’ve got tiny little ideas of what it could mean but I have no clue how to say, or even properly think about it.

“Even with accusations full of faults and mistakes.” Is a lot easier to understand. It’s talking about how us, as the audience, can be heavily biased by stuff and make dire mistakes on the characters and how heavily that can impact the verdict. Like with trial 1 kazui the main idea is that he was cheating and that’s how the stuff happened, although we were wrong and it had nothing to do with his situation. Lots of verdicts on prisoners aren’t based off factual evidence but just “I think statements”. If I remember correctly alot of people were voting yuno guilty in the first trial not because of what she actually did, but because they thought her attitude was strange and that she was secretly evil or whatever. And the opposite happening saying the at she was completely clueless and innocent. So this line fits perfectly for everything going on.

“You will for sure, with a smile for sure 

Be pleased and satisfied.” This is probably the most chilling line to me. It straight up says how in the end, milgram is a piece of media meant to entertain people. You will be satisfied engaging in the media, even if you didn’t get your intended verdict. But this poses the question, is this ethical to the characters? Having fun judging them, theorising every little bit of their mind that was extracted through their MVs. The secrets they don’t want us to know, they’re online for millions to theorise about, and may make false accusations and mistakes in their judgment. Fuuta directly calls on this saying that es is the same as him, having fun analysing this prisoners and judging their morality, just like what he did online. 

These few sentences are easily overlooked and only appear for a little while but they are so packed with meaning and meta commentary it’s amazing.

Also side note I find it interesting how es speaks in “you” instead of “I” like the other prisoners, like they’re directly talking to us. It’s like the whole mv is directed at us, because it is. But does es know?

Es 3: ooh this is hard I’d have to say a tie between these 2.

This is one of the commissioned fanart of the characters I think, and I love how menacing es looks here. If you’ve never seen milgram you’d probably assume that es is the main villain or whatever. And although es is technically the protagonist, it’d be really interesting for es to be a villain. A mysterious character who has no memory of their past and entire identity is being the guard of this mysterious prison. And their judgments aren’t even really their own, it’s the will of thousands of people who know the characters deepest secrets. This makes me wonder if we’re ever gonna have to cast a vote on es…

Ok rambling aside I really love the red circle and greenish background and mist (?) it just really gives off that iconic vibe that I love about the series.

The other one I really like is this one from the app. It feels both peaceful and surreal of es asleep, with jackalope sitting on their cape and a water ripple which really shouldn’t be there. It gives a unique vibe to this piece and a side of es we don’t really see, and the full colours here fit really well. 

Es 5: ooh this is also pretty hard as es has alot of voice drama moments so it’s really hard to pick a favorite moment or line or whatever.

Definitely a longer scene but probably my favorite is near the end of baptism of fire when es expresses sympathy for fuuta and the other prisoners. Saying that since they’ve been by their side for a while and looked into their hearts they’re no longer strangers to them and seeing fuuta in pain makes them begin to regret their actions. Es says how they’re starting to think of the prisoners more as comrades than suspicious strangers. They say that it’s a pity, but the bell rings and their attitude completely changes. Es finishes off the sentence with “that I’m the warden” and says no matter how much pain fuuta’s been going through, he can’t escape justice. Acting a lot more “logical” (if that’s the right word) and saying that they don’t care about fuuta apologising. Fuuta gets extremely upset at this, as es, who was showing him compassion and sympathy earlier, suddenly changed and started putting him down, which lead fuuta to have a panic attack In probably one of my favorite scenes in all the voice dramas.

This is a really interesting scene for es’ character because we start to see a side of them we haven’t before. A more human side, as opposed to the cold, logical minded warden they were conditioned to be. But when the bell rings, everything changes and they go back to that state. Making me think that the bell could have some affect on es, as it reminds me of times when es starts breaking down when asked about the nature of their identity and the prison itself. This is such great characterisation I can’t.

Amane 5: “Furthermore, isn't it condescending of you to assume that just because I happen to be a child, I am incapable of hating someone enough to kill them?”

This line in Apostle and Death is really interesting, as despite how much Amane says but murder was purely of faith, she basically revealed part of her motive here. @purgemarchlockdown did a really good analysis on this line saying she’s presenting it as a hypothetical, but it’s what actually happened.

Amane’s murder likely has multiple reasons, yes faith is a big part in her motive but I think the main point that drove her to murder was pure hate. She’s trying to cover it up for whatever reason but the truth is revealing itself. She’s said a lot in the VDs and the interrogation questions that it was just a punishment in line with faith, but the purge march contradicts it with much more emotion heavy lyrics.

A honourable mention would be “You know, I’m aware that I’m out of the ordinary.” From of blessedness and punishment. I don’t know why but I think about that line a lot.

Amane 6: I already answered this question in a previous ask but to sum it up it’s Amane and fuuta because their characters have so many parallels to each other, and it looks like they’re gonna become friends in canon because they’ve been interacting a lot lately. And it appears fuuta is taking religious ideas from Amane which would be a really interesting plot point and would reveal alot about his mindset.

Amane 8: Amane’s crime is probably one of the hardest to grasp for me, like have general consensus on what happened but there’s a bunch of little tidbits and oddities that feel really important but I have no idea where they go in the timeline. I think it started with the cat getting injured, but magic makes it confusing as that cat didn’t have a collar, got injured on the head and was injured by a falling light (likely representative of the happy facade of the cult breaking, so I think how the cat got injured is very important). Amane seemed to always to go the place where the cat was, and she was spotted fixing up the cat’s leg. It’s very likely that this was her breaking the “'Tis ordained, thou shall follow thine destiny” rule. But what’s confusing that in the purge march is that in that scene she fails the flag throw for “'Tis ordained, thou shall discard vulgarity” and gets promptly punished for it. This happens before the scene with the cat, which ends with electrical torture, which would fit with the first rule as we see in magic. But we have no idea how she broke that 2nd rule, and it’s very likely that’s where she started building up hate. Magic also implies she broke all the rules but we only really know about the one with the cat.

It definitely seems from interrogation question trial 2 no 17 she killed her mother, as she said “my mother should have kept her faith until the very end.” This could imply that Amane’s mother disobeyed the cult in one way or another? I’ve seen speculation as that killing the cat is again also interfering with destiny, that could be what amane means. But the way she worded it implies that her mom was actively trying to leave the cult somehow. 

Another thing I think is interesting is what amane said in interrogation question t2 no 17 

Q: what do the people you respect think about your sin?

A: I just followed what I’ve been taught, so obviously they’ll praise me and tell me I did well.

I’ve already stayed that I think amanes murder is mostly emotion driven, but also has aspects of her religion in it. I’m not sure if she’s trying to convince herself that’s the case or something like that actually happened. But it’s interesting to think that she’s lying about it and trying to say that she did it for he faith to not beat herself up over it.

Amane 9: personally I’ll forgive her crime on its own. She’s only 12, and had a clear motive that stems from abuse even if some themes of her “needing to do it” were involved, but I suggested that could be a coping mechanism. Amane’s had a very hard life and we know that she can lash out at people in rage, as seen in the second voice drama in which she got so angry she attempted to attack es with scissors she bought in earlier. I’m not gonna talk about that because it’s somewhat off topic, but the environment that lead up to Amane killing is understandable. She’s not malicious in her intent at all, she’s broken by the people around her, and this is her lashing out at one of her abusers. Punishing her for what she did is only going to make things worse, so id forgive her murder on her own.

Amane 10: it’s kinda confusing. In trial 2 I’d still forgive her, both with the reasoning I gave in the previous post and how subjecting her to more mental torment will completely break her to no return. 

In trial 1 it’s a lot more difficult because even though I was not there, the choice is really hard. I’d still say forgive, as looking back on it we’ve uncovered how bad it was to Amane’s mental state and our hypocrisies in voting. But if I was there back then I probably would’ve voted her guilty. When I was watching milgram for the first time in chronological order, I somewhat agreed with that because she was so expecting that she’d be forgiven and it’s just another trial to get through, and we assumed at that point it was purely due to religious motives.

Again looking back on it now after the purge march, I would forgive her back then but it’s still a difficult choice.

#milgram #Ask game #ask #es milgram #amane momose #milgram theory #screw it I’m tagging it as Theory I think I went a little overboard with this one lmao #It also ended up breaking the notes page I was using because I was writing too much #This is the problem of being extremely analytical and analysing everything from the most basic prompt #LanieMae’s theories

[magxit]

Matty played Madison Square Garden 3 months ago, so he was in NYC. He also was on the Johnathon Ross Show in England 2 months ago.// But Anon, Taylor was in LA and then Glendale in tour rehearsals during this time. There is absolutely zero evidence they were in the same city after the January appearance at the 1975 concert. I think people are getting tripped up by what we’ve actually seen versus that obviously false Sun article: there is atm nothing to suggest anything more than a fling/situationship is happening here. People need to get better at understanding the Sun often gets kernels of truth right but the details horribly wrong. As 2 people who were already friends and collaborators and had a history of 10 years, very little needed to transpire between them to get to a fling/situationship happening. Matty clearly is into her and has been and probably took his shot as soon as he heard the news. Not to mention her hooking up with someone else fresh off a break is her usual MO so I don’t get why people are struggling to understand how this could’ve happened? Also, people romanticizing him flying right after his gig to get to her: yeah cause he knew he’d get some (don’t underestimate what men will do for good sex) and once again, he’s been into her for some time and knew he needed to act fast here (he fumbled the bag previously).

The most obvious answer is usually the right one: Taylor’s first weeks on tour and then the switch to The 1 indicate the timing of the split and it being sudden. Obviously there were likely issues brewing for some time but you can’t ignore Joe was with her in LA until his film started and that he liked her pre-tour post and photo dumped himself at her Grammy party with Jack and the cats plus there were sightings of them in LA together through February). You also can’t ignore that it seems obvious something happened to cause her to pull the plug and that something made her friends immediately distance themselves from Joe too. Abi still follows some of the K family and Karlie and yet she immediately unfollowed Joe. I know some like to paint it like Taylor forces her pals to do this. But she clearly doesn’t make them choose based on multiple different connections several friends have to people who are on her shit list. So ask yourself why then did they all unfollow Joe so fast (especially since he’s rarely on SM)? And for those who say, why didn’t her pals know I’d ask have you been in an adult LTR? Issues or not, Taylor clearly believed she and Joe were going to make it (the house, her music, the likely engagement, etc). You don’t sell out your partner or share all the shit even with close friends when you expect to still be in the relationship - but also a legit source (People) indicated that pals did know they had ups and downs. But the biggest indication honestly should be how clearly Taylor is going through it in these past few weeks and even now (see last night’s show). We’ll see where this thing - whatever it is - between her and Matty goes. But with him back on tour shortly and her on tour too (plus everything she’s still dealing with) I’d be surprised if it goes on past May.

One last thing to point out: People is Tree’s go-to. When the Sun broke the TH news she didn’t comment and it played out as it did: a rebound or fling. When the Sun broke the Joe news, People had confirmation of the relationship within a couple hours because it was obviously something real. With this Sun article on Matty, People said nothing all week and then has only noted they were spotted together and the rumors from the Sun since. People would have gotten the confirmation this is a relationship if it actually was that. My guess is that we’ll see this play out like TH a bit and then it’ll fizzle.

.

[positivlyfocused]

Why People Create Tragedies For Themselves And Others

All beliefs create reality. It doesn’t matter if the belief is “true” or “false, “right” or “wrong”. In time, any belief will create reality consistent with it. Which explains the importance of positive focus.

So many examples prove this. It’s amazing so many continue thinking “you create your reality” is wishful thinking. When the world is awash in examples showing how people create their reality exactly this way. How? By focusing on a belief until the belief proves true.

One example sticks in my mind. It sticks for good reasons. One, because of the near-tragedy that could have ensued. And two, because the person involved, Edgar Maddison Welch, believed a preposterous story. A story which he believed so strongly, he acted as though it were true.

Because for him, it was true. Today, Welch regrets taking action on such preposterously false ideas. That didn’t help him though on December 4, 2016.

Pizza…and pedophiles

The idea involved politicians, pizza and a certain taboo. Someone concocted a now widely discredited conspiracy linking prominent democrats and restaurants with human trafficking and child sex. Just to reiterate: so many media outlets have discredited the story. Including Fox News.

Yet, the story quickly went viral. The owner of one restaurant falsely claimed to be involved said he and his employees were constantly threatened:

Again, not one aspect of the conspiracy proved true. And yet, many, many people acted as though they were true. In other words, their beliefs, amplified by several negative emotions, including frustration, insecurity and fear, didn’t allow them to see obvious evidence disproving the conspiracy.

Even false beliefs will occur as true. If the people think the belief long enough, frequently enough, evidence will quickly begin accumulating. The evidence could occur as wildly off base to others. But people thinking the beliefs will discredit the disproving evidence in favor of the [false] evidence. In time, the beliefs will draw so much “proof” the people’s behaviors will align with the beliefs. Then the belief, for practical purposes is “true” to the believer. Then those who get caught up in the created reality suffer tragedies. The belief becomes true for them too in experiential terms.

This is how tragedies happen. And this is how the near-disaster related to Pizzagate happened too. Which brings us back to Welch.

A near mass shooting

For Welch, 24, these false conspiracies were true. So much so, he felt he must act. So he left his home in North Carolina. He headed north to a restaurant purported to be part of the conspiracy. He brought an assault rifle with him. Planning to “investigate the conspiracy,” Welch fired three shots into the restaurant. Luckily, the bullets hit no one.

Later, when police arrested him, Welch saw himself as, in his own words, “…the potential hero of the story—a rescuer of children”, as told to the Skeptical Inquirer. While no one was hurt, the outcome could have been different.

Welch’s experience and so many more illustrate how any belief can become true. Even flawed ones. This explains why it’s so important that people understand how “thoughts become things,” as Abraham puts it.

In fact, a recent email from them makes this very clear:

^^Abraham once again making it plain.

It can go either way

What’s really great about situations like this is, if flawed premises can create “truth”, what about premises based on the how the Universe actually works?

I mean, if all beliefs will eventually prove true, then it seems it behooves people to focus on beliefs consistent with what they want to experience, right? That’s the premise of the Positively Focused approach. The Charmed Life, the life I write about here constantly, is nothing other than a premise based on how the Universe actually works.

That means, so long as one believes in accordance with how the Universe works and how it’s oriented, they can create any “truth” they like. And that means the world can contain ANY belief. Any belief held long enough will prove true. So why not make your truth something you’d prefer? Rather than a truth you’d not prefer?

That’s what I show my clients every week. How to create “truths” they want to experience. When those truths become overwhelming, then they experience their own version of the Charmed Life. From there, life gets really fun.

Life can go either way. I say, why not make it go the way you want?

#positive thinking #positive life #spiritual growth #spiritual life #positive vibes #positiveaffirmations #positiveapproach #positiveattractspositive #positiveattitude #spiritual journey #spiritual awakening #spiritualgrowth #spiritual path #mass murder #gun control #gun violence

[mswarriorjourney]

A Survivor’s Take: Amber Heard, You Owe Us An Apology

Amber Heard, you owe the real victims an apology. You owe every man, woman, they/them, and anyone else who has actually experienced domestic violence/sexual assault an apology. You owe Johnny an apology. Most of all, you owe the public you have manipulated an apology.

As someone who not only is a survivor of DV/SA but had to watch their own family deal with drug addiction and other mental illnesses, you and your defence team’s inappropriate portrayal and demonization of substance abuse disorder, ADHD, depression, PTSD and C-PTSD has been a slap in the face to those who live with these disorders every day. We watched 6 weeks of yourself and your team painting a man to be an abuser solely based on testimonies from those who were bitter with him. 

We WATCHED you and HEARD you berate, belittle, and abuse a man. We then watched and heard 6 weeks of audio/video of you triggering your victim, abusing him and proceeding to record his bad moments of reacting to that abuse. We watched you alienate him, isolate him from his family, call him fat and put him down in any way you could. As a victim, you do not speak for me. You do not represent me. You do not feel sorry for your actions. 

During this trial, we saw all of these things. We witnessed firsthand, you, the abuser, further gaslighting and abusing your victim in court by hiring a highly unethical, inappropriate witness to demean your victim’s disabilities and exploit them to paint a false narrative not only about these disorders but about your victim. 

We heard your testimony and it made us sick. Victims everywhere, even those who believed in you, watched you take the stand and lie about exploiting charities for sick children to further your PR in an attempt to appear as a victim advocating for us and for sick children. We watched you lie again and again. For 6 weeks, we watched. For 6 weeks, we checked the evidence. We witnessed you submit and share edited, faked evidence and witnessed those lies exposed. We witnessed you lie on the stand and avoid the question of whether or not you donated the money from the divorce to the charities you CLAIMED publicly and in other court cases that you had. 

 We watched you and your “witnesses” lie countless times, and we have documentation to prove it. We saw your comments which can still be found online in full video where you claimed “addicts lie” and made a mockery of addiction. We heard your comments about not trusting addicts, saying, “I took it with a grain of addict salt” in court. 

Victims and/or those suffering from mental illness witnessed YOU, Amber Heard, lie and demonize mental illnesses over and over to paint yourself as an angel. We heard you gaslight your victim and it was triggering for us to hear. Many victims supported you in the beginning because we truly believe victims until proven otherwise. You proved that you were not. 

You, Miss Heard, are no advocate for me nor are you an advocate for ANY survivor of any gender. What we take from this case as survivors is that our abusers will take us to court, fake documents, fake evidence and try to paint us as the villain by exploiting our mental illnesses and past mistakes. We witnessed evidence of you brutally chopping off a man’s fingertip while spinning the story that he did it to himself while harming you. We saw the evidence of abuse. We saw you as the abuser. We saw your victim. We see your lies. 

The outcome of this case was pure justice within the rights of the legal system. WE the victims see through your lies and false narratives. What you have done is WRONG and you not only owe your victim a public apology, you owe US, the victims. The same people you’ve exploited time and time again by stealing someone’s else’s story and spinning it for better press whilst also trying to silence your victim. No longer will men or anyone of any gender identity be silenced by abusers like you. 

Most of all, miss Amber Heard, I truly hope you get help. You need it. I truly hope the media and your “supporters” one day stop enabling you and encourage you to get the help you so desperately need. 

YOU DO NOT SPEAK FOR ME, AMBER. YOU DO NOT REPRESENT VICTIMS BECAUSE YOU ARE NOT ONE. YOU DO NOT GET TO LIE IN COURT, FABRICATE EVIDENCE, ACCUSE POLICE OFFICERS OF NOT DOING THEIR JOBS, THREATEN THEM WITH PERJURY, EXPLOIT SICK CHILDREN AND BE FREE OF CONSEQUENCES. YOU DO NOT. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT. YOU WILL NOT ABUSE YOUR VICTIM ANYMORE. NEVER AGAIN. 

#amber heard is a liar #amber heard committed perjury #amber heard #Johnny Depp #johnny depp got justice #johnny depp wins #abuse has no gender

[lunamaidiary]

ESTP: Extroverted, Sensing, Thinking, & Perceiving Analysis

ah i am not an expert in psychology in any shape, way, or form. this is my take on explaining the 16 personalities following Jung’s 4 main personality types (sensing,

ok! here are some basics about the ESTP. for starters, ESTPs are realists. they will also tell you how it is even if you don’t want to hear it. they do it for your own good. also, the ESTP do es not care for or believe in things without factual and concrete proof. they HATE conspiracies. lastly, ESTPs are known as the “Persuader” because that is their purpose in life. to persuade people and improve them some way.

now let’s dive in the ESTP’s ego functions.

Hero : Se (extroverted sensing)

Parent : Ti (introverted thinking)

Child : Fe (extroverted feeling)

Inferior : Ni (introverted intuition)

EXTROVERTED SENSING. Se Hero

ESTPs are ultimate realists. they solely go by logic and factual pieces of evidence.

ESTPs are present and in the moment type of people. this type LOVES to indulge in the here and now. the ESTP does not like planning for the future because they don’t know what to expect. “I’ll see it when it happens”. a decisive improviser!

ESTPs are action oriented and fast to react. they absorb their surroundings until they fully understand what’s going on. once they do, the ESTP will have no problem stepping in to fix their surroundings.

INTROVERTED THINKING. Ti Parent

Ti allows ESTPs to process their surroundings and analyze to see if something is true or false. again, ESTPs are realists and they only believe in facts and data. they NEED to find out what is true because it matters to them more than “winning an argument”.

ESTPs hold their Ti on a very high pedestal. when someone judges their logic, this can conflict the ESTP greatly and make them reanalyze everything they just did. (this will fall in with their Fe Child later).

Ti test systems and beliefs. the ESTP will not follow that system if their Ti thinks it’s stupid (same with beliefs). in fact, ESTP will get rid of that system and create a new one based off their environment and the harmony of the group. they believe in their logic the most. “my thinking can carry others too”

EXTROVERTED FEELING. Fe Child

ESTPs care about others. they want to feel respected while showing respect to others.

Fe wants to protect those loved ones of the ESTP and give them so much love and affection.

BUT this does not mean the ESTP is like this to anyone. No no. people have to earn this respect from the ESTP. the ESTP does not care if they have say how it is. they do it for the sake of that person and wanting them to improve. it’s a very misunderstood concept of the ESTP.

INTROVERTED INTUITION. Ni Inferior

ESTPs lack planning for the future. they also don’t want to. the ESTP is too focused on the present to think about the future/past.

ESTPs don’t know what they truly want (right now and in the future). the ESTP is conflicted if the things they want is right or wrong (because of their Ti). it’s a real insecurity for this type

Ni can cause a lot of stress to the ESTP because the dominant function is receiving all this information and the Ni prevents the ESTP to come to a conclusion. it’s the same thing about making the right choice or wrong choice. some ESTPs will even push the situation away and not deal with it at all.

wow. that was a lot but now i’ll briefly explain the shadow, subconscious, and superego.

ESTP SHADOW : ISTJ (Si-Te-Fi-Ne)

Nemesis : Si (Introverted Sensing). ESTPs worry about providing the best experience for others. Si nemesis adds pressure to the ESTP because it’s saying “bro this hangout has to be better than the last one”. they say this because it’s always about outdoing what they’ve already done. Si nemesis also pushes out old information when new info rolls in. for example, if you told the ESTP to do 3 things and then do 2 more things on top of it, they probably will forget one or two things they were supposed to do.

Critic : Te (Extroverted Thinking). the ESTP is very critical of anything that doesn’t make sense with their Ti. the ESTP will ignore that system or way of thinking and replace it with their’s.

Trickster : Fi (Introverted Feeling). the ESTP has a decent sense of what is right or wrong until it comes to personal feelings. the ESTP needs to know that feelings don’t always have a logical explanation. that’s why a lot of types find them blunt or insensitive. but in hindsight, the ESTP cannot understand emotional decisions because they rely on their SeTi duo all the time. Fi trickster can lead to the ESTP constantly worrying about the worst-case-scenario. even tho they are realists. hypocritical right? lol Fi trickster means the ESTP is not aware of how they feel.

DEMON : Ne (Extroverted Intuition). Ne demon can cause the ESTP to throw blame on everyone else and not reflect on their choices. when Se Hero feels worthless, Ne demon can come out and lead the ESTP to making impractical decisions with no reasoning behind it. this can cause recklessness and impulsiveness especially to an unhealthy ESTP.

SUBCONSCIOUS : INFJ (Ni-Fe-Ti-Se). INFJs are helpful people. they want to help people improve. this is the subconscious reasoning to why the ESTP will criticize you because they believe you can be awesome and will push you.

idc about superego too much lol

#estp #estpmbti #estp personality #mbti things #mbti estp #mbti #mbti types #cognitive functions #myers briggs