#exceptional cognitive abilities
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On High-Range Test Construction 4: Iakovos Koukas on Understanding IQ Test Scores
Publisher: In-Sight Publishing Publisher Founding: March 1, 2014 Web Domain: http://www.in-sightpublishing.com Location: Fort Langley, Township of Langley, British Columbia, Canada Journal: In-Sight: Independent Interview-Based Journal Journal Founding: August 2, 2012 Frequency: Three (3) Times Per Year Review Status: Non-Peer-Reviewed Access: Electronic/Digital & Open…
#Above Average Intelligence (110-119)#Average IQ score#Bell Curve#Below Average Intelligence (70-89)#cognitive abilities#exceptional academic career#exceptional cognitive abilities#IQ classification#IQ score ranges#normal distribution#pattern recognition#problem-solving skills#Profoundly Gifted or Extremely Genius Intelligence (180-200)#standard deviation#Superior Intelligence (120-129)
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What Sets Geniuses Apart? Research Spotlights 25 Key Characteristics
For ages, people have wondered – what makes a genius tick? Scientists have long studied the peculiar qualities of the world’s brightest minds. Countless experiments compare genius-level IQs with the rest of us. There’s no doubt their genes are special. But even geniuses share some traits rooted in their DNA. This helps explain how they see the world in their unique way. So if you met a genius,…

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#Characteristics#Cognitive Abilities#Exceptional Minds#Extraordinary Thinking#Genius#Hallmarks of Genius#Identifying Genius#IQ and Traits.#Science of Genius#Traits#Unique Perspectives
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JESUS. I WANT TO DRAW ME AND SANS. because im out of posts to make about him but i sure as fuck aint out of feelings so thats the only thing i can do to express myself now. except im also out of drawings to make that arent unbearably embarrassing, so………..
#i know i just gotta cognitive behavioral therapy this shit. but its still too embarrassing……….#i can draw us and thats fine but i cant draw the stuff i REALLY wanna draw cause its embarrassing#its. man. whys it all gotta be so embarrassing its been 7 years now#ALSO NOBODY BUT ME REALLY CARES KINDA. i dont mean it like how that sounds btw what i mean is just like#making stuff for other people is easier and makes me more motivated cause then i KNOW theres somebody on the other end#same with general fanart like i know somebodys gonna see it and like it because its of their favorite character or whatever#drawing selfship or even self insert stuff thats just for ME is like. different#so when i say nobody cares i dont mean that in like a. depressing ‘whats the point’ kinda way its just like#its not FOR anybody and even if my friends like seeing selfship stuff from me its not like. argh well you get it#its hard to explain but anyway that makes it way harder for me to get motivated#i wish i was like. two people so i could make selfship art for someone else and 1. not be embarrassed and 2. actually get it DONE#except in the end its just for myself anyway. lol#WAIT I JUST REALIZED THATS WHAT I DO WHEN I GET DRUNJ AND HIGH LMFAO#of course being either of those also Um. affects my drawing abilities. bur still. lol#skrambles#bleeeeghhh HATE THAT TAG AND ALSO MY URL GOOD GOD I GOTTA CHANGE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!
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HEAR ME OUT!
post prison Spencer and shy!reader bonding over being total nerds. Books, shows... you name it
Bookstore Physics - S.R
summary: spencer suggests you should compare moral biases more often. you think he's making a philosophical point. he thinks he just asked you on a date
pairings: post!prison spencer reid x shy!medialiaison!reader
warnings: fluff, second hand embarrassment im sure, philosophical debates that are probably wrong bc i had to google and i know hardly knowing about mr kant, existential crisis but make it romantic, post prison reid, shy reader, prolonged eye contact
wc: 1.6k
a/n: thanks for requesting my lovely! happy superbowl to those who celebrate! go birds!
You were so close. Just one more inch, and your fingertips would finally graze the spine of the book that had been taunting you from its impossibly high perch.
Rising to your tiptoes, you reached with all the reckless confidence of someone who had severely underestimated basic physics. The shelf wobbled under your grip, your shoes squeaking against the polished floor, and in that split second, you were faced with a terrifying possibility that you were about to take out the entire bookshelf, along with your dignity.
Something grabbed ahold of you, steadying you before you could faceplant directly into a pile of literary fiction.
You went completely rigid. Because that wasn't just something. That was a Spencer Reid hand, long fingers, warm palm, and a freakishly strong grip for a man who treated physical exertion like a concept rather than a practice.
"Oh. Hi, Dr. Reid," you blurted, the words tumbling out clumsy and unpolished, as if your tongue had forgotten how to function. You winced instantly. "What are you doing here?"
Spencer didn't answer right away. His grip on your arm slackened, but he didn't step away, didn't even give you an inch of space, like he had no intention of letting you breathe properly.
Oh, that's fine. Air is overrated anyway.
"What am I doing here?" he repeated as if he were genuinely considering the question, but you knew better.
His expression hovered somewhere between pity and uncontained glee, the corners of his mouth twitching.
Your lips parted, but your mind refused to cooperate, stuck on an endless loop of oh my god, did you actually just say that?
To Spencer Reid. The same Spencer who had, on multiple occasions, resorted to scribbling entire paragraphs on the back of receipts and once, when truly desperate, his own wrist. Spencer, who physically flinched at the sound of a cracked spine and once spent seventeen uninterrupted minutes explaining the significance of marginalia. Spencer who read like breathing and talked about prose like it was something alive.
And you, a person allegedly with working cognitive abilities, had just asked him what he was doing in a bookstore.
You opened your mouth, whether to correct yourself or just inhale enough oxygen to function again, you weren't sure, but before you could, Spencer, with precisely zero struggle, reached up and plucked the book from the shelf like it had been placed there specifically for him.
"You should've asked for help," he murmured, and oh, that was definitely amusement in his voice.
"I-I had it under control."
One brow arched, unimpressed.
"Sure you did," he mused, lips twitching like they couldn’t quite decide whether to commit to a smirk. "Although, considering that 20% of bookstore-related injuries stem from ill-advised attempts at reaching high shelves, you were probably just one statistic away from a minor concussion."
You narrowed your eyes. "That's not — there's no way that's a real statistic."
Spencer barely reacted, flipping open the book with the same casual disinterest of someone checking the sky for clouds, except this wasn't a change in barometric pressure, and you were positive your entire nervous system had just gone into meltdown mode.
Your face burned, heat creeping up your spine and flooding through you veins at an alarming speed, and — oh, no — you had officially run out of places to look that weren't him.
And he (unfortunately) made such an easy focal point.
His shirt was rumpled like he'd spent the whole day forgetting to sit properly and a barely-there ink smudge kissed the edge of his palm, the kind only noticeable if you were close. His hair was at war with itself, some strands curling forward rebelliously against the collar of his cardigan, others falling forward, brushing the edge of his cheek.
He didn't glance up as he murmured, "Philosophy?"
The words barely had time to settle before your brain supplied an immediate translation: he was about to analyze you.
You could practically hear the gears turning, the internal mechanisms of his brain whirring at a speed that actually did defy physics. If you concentrated hard enough, you might've been able to hear the faint whir of neurons firing, piecing together a framework of analysis that was surely seconds away from being spoken into existence. He was surely already forming a hypothesis, already constructing some impossibly insightful revelation about what this particular title said about you, your worldview, your subconscious motivations.
"Well, yeah, that one," you said quickly, the words tripping over each other. “I mean, it’s not real philosophy — well, obviously, it is, but not in the way you would define foundational philosophy, but it still presents some really interesting moral dilemmas, and the writing is surprisingly digestible considering the subject matter is so —”
You clamped your mouth shut so fast it was a wonder your teeth didn’t rattle.
What were you even saying?
"Um — yeah. Philosophy. Or... something like that."
Spencer's lips twitched, and then, in a move so profoundly unsettling, he smiled.
Not just any smile, either. A real one. The kind that didn't just curve his mouth but softened him entirely, the corners tugging upward, a barely there dimple surfacing at his cheek.
It hit you like a perfectly aimed dart —sharp, direct, and entirely crushing. Something fluttered wildly in your chest, light enough to feel stupid, but heavy enough to be a problem.
Then, still smiling, he tilted his head, leaning in just enough to invade your space, his voice dipping like he was handing you something fragile.
"I didn't take you for the existentialist type."
Your first instinct is to argue, to insist that you're far too well-rounded, too multifaceted, too impossible to be pinned down by a single school of thought. But before you can even begin to string words together, Spencer tilts his head just a little more, his eyes sweeping over you in a way that feels dangerously close to that same expression of analyzing once again.
And suddenly, you need to redirect this conversation, desperately, urgently, before your body betrays you, before you start visibly sweating or keel over like a fainting goat. Neither feels like an optimal outcome.
"I — I mean... I could say the same about you."
His lips quirk. "Interesting. And why's that?"
"I don't know. I always assumed you'd be more of a rationalist? Like, Descartes' methodical doubt feels like something you'd respect, and even Kant's categorical imperative, although that's more deontological ethics than strict rationalism, kind of aligns with the way you view morality and decision-making, and —"
You stop. Blink.
Oh no. You’re heavily invested in this man’s philosophical alignment.
You purse your lips, clearing your throat like that’ll erase the absurd level of thought you’ve just admitted to having.
"I mean, I'm probably way off."
Spencer flips the book closed, considering.
"I supposed you could argue I lean toward rationalism," he allows. "But morality is messy. Kant insists on universal law, and let's be real, most people abandon objectivity the second emotions get involved."
He glances at you then, a shift so small it shouldn't feel significant, but somehow, it does.
“For instance, we all make exceptions. We justify things we probably shouldn’t. Sometimes we prioritize people in ways that defy reason.”
His lips twitch.
"Hypothetically speaking, of course."
“Well, yeah,” you say, caught up in the current of the conversation before you even realize you’ve been swept away. “People make emotional calculations constantly. Even when they claim objectivity, their decisions are shaped by personal attachments.”
The thought unspools too easily, words tumbling forward, carried by momentum.
“And it’s not just morality, it’s cognition in general. Have you read Jonathan Haidt’s work on moral intuitionism? He argues that people make moral judgments first based on instinct, and then rationalize them after the fact.”
You glance up, expecting a rapid-fire counterargument, some impossibly well-structured debate. But Spencer is just watching you.
"So what about you?" he asks suddenly. "Would you say you make exceptions?"
You pause.
"I mean… yeah? I guess I do. Everyone does, right? If someone I care about does something morally questionable, I’d probably be more inclined to defend them than if it were a stranger. I mean, that’s just human nature."
Then shrug.
"But that doesn’t mean I’m being hypocritical," you add quickly, as if you just realized how that sounded. "I think there’s a difference between conscious favoritism and subconscious moral bias. It’s not like I have a specific person I’d automatically justify no matter what."
Spencer exhales. "I think you're more consistent than you realize."
You blink at him. "What do you mean?"
He shrugs, lifting the book in his hands, fingers drumming idly against the cover. “You try so hard to rationalize your emotions. But I think, if it came down to it, you’d make an exception for someone. Just one.”
Your stomach knots, and it's humiliating how obvious you must be. You can feel your pulse everywhere, in your throat, your wrists, your temples, like your entire body is broadcasting, Hey, Spencer Reid is making you malfunction because he somehow sees right through you, somebody send help.
“I — well, I mean —”
“Relax, it’s just a theory.”
But something about the way he says it makes you not relax at all. And before you can scramble for some kind of coherent response, he nods toward your book.
“You should get that one,” he says lightly, handing you back the book. “I’d love to hear your take on it next time.”
You freeze. Next time?
Oh. Oh no. The words settle over you like an ill-timed realization, and your brain is running the math like you're about to file a report on your own social incompetence. Next time implies... a prior time, a recurring time, a pattern of times. Next time implies he assumes there will be a next time.
And you assume that he assumes that you are the kind of person who could logically expect another bookstore trip with Spencer Reid as if that's just a thing that happens in your life. Which is absurd.
Your fingers tighten around the book, like holding onto an overpriced paperback will somehow restore balance to your rapidly deteriorating world. Your pulse is a problem and your ability to think critically is a casualty.
You scramble for something, anything, to say, but before your brain can reboot, Spencer is already moving.
Then just as he disappears into the next aisle, he tosses one final parting shot of his shoulder —
"See you soon, then."
taglist has been disbanned! if you want to get updates about my writings follow my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x shy reader#post prison!spencer reid x reader#post prison reid#post prison reid x reader#post prison spencer reid x shy media liaison reader#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds#spencer reid x you#🌺 maria writes
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I think you're right that it's significant, and I think Mori is clever to recognize that Akutagawa is a rook.
Like a rook, Akutagawa is powerful, but generally contained and often undercut by his predictability. However, because he's keenly aware of his own constraints, and because others often aren't (especially regarding variables they've internalized as known), he's able to play into and against his own predictability to paradoxically surprise them.
He moves within the confines of his rigidity to shape outcomes, sometimes more effectively than his more dynamic opponents and peers. Rooks do that too, if you let them.
Me, knowing nothing about chess, probably overthinking the significance of referencing akutagawa in this scene, but is going to look it up later anyways
#i have very specific chess feelings and thoughts re: rooks (which is what that piece is)#because in elementary school i was in a program for intellectually gifted students - by which i do NOT mean an honors program#i mean i displayed several specific neuro characteristics and struggled in a classroom environment such that i was referred for screening#the results of the screening flagged me for several additional tests and my results on those tests then prompted a comprehensive assessment#which was conducted by a licensed examiner who additionally administered another test chosen specifically based on my prior data#the report from which triggered a review of all of the above data by a panel of specialists who determined that I was wired so atypically#that I required specifically designed support services to avoid an adverse impact my access to education#ie I was not considered academically gifted which is what people are usually thinking of when they talk about giftedness (esp on tumblr)#i prefaced with all of that to counter misconceptions and emphasize that i was not in a program for smart and highly successful students#i was in a program for students with distinct cognitive processing needs that could not be met without specialized intervention#but inanely and entirely b/c of misconceptions the administrators at my school forcibly registered us in an annual chess tournament#which they wouldn't let us opt out of b/c there was a funding incentive for the school if we advanced far enough#ironically chess is a bad fit for this type of giftedness b/c it's rote + relies on bounded conventions instead of creative problem solving#but anyway i did not want to fucking play chess especially not competitively - it's boring and gets redundant#so i intentionally threw all of my games to remove myself from the tournament early#except my fellow indentured chess competitors noticed i was doing that and they were also bored and didn't care for the tournament#and so several of them made a game out of forcibly advancing me as far as they could by outmaneuvering my attempts to lose#horrifically they managed to corner me into winning enough that i was in serious danger of advancing#and so i started AGGRESSIVELY practicing chess in my spare time to learn how to shape the board and get confident in my ability to do so#i played against computers and then strangers online for hours a day and i studied checkmate patterns and how to subvert + reconfigure them#all so i could play well enough to ensure i'd lose even when being actively sabotaged#it worked - i narrowly escaped advancing that year and I don't think they were able to lose to me again after that#they kept trying - even playing me outside of tournaments to try and figure out how i was consistently losing#it's b/c i layered multiple strategies that involved breaking select conventions + manipulating their focus and psychology#BUT the fulcrum of my approach relied heavily on my rooks and select pawns as my most valuable pieces#i got very good at using rooks to shape the board without placing them in a position to be captured until i wanted them to be#once i had a few pawns close to promotion i would shift my rooks into bait b/c once one was taken i could just promote a pawn into a rook#and because absent a potential stalemate people almost always promote pawns into queens#my opponent would forget my additional rooks and would make choices based on the implicit assumptions that my deputized pawns were queens#rooks are treasures
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Word List: Psychology
concepts to help with your story/poem
All-or-nothing Thinking - In cognitive psychotherapy, a common thought distortion in which the individual irrationally evaluates everything as either wonderful or terrible, with no middle ground or “gray area”
Burnout - A state of exhaustion that relates to engaging continually in emotionally demanding work
Congruence - In humanistic psychotherapy, consistency between the real self and the ideal self; the source of mental health
Dodo Bird Verdict - A nickname for the common research finding that different forms of psychotherapy are roughly equally effective; derived from the line in Alice in Wonderland, “Everybody has won and all must have prizes”
Exception Questions - In solution-focused family therapy, a technique whereby therapists ask families to recall situations when the problem was absent or less severe
Fluid Intelligence - The ability to reason when faced with novel problems
Introspection - The process of looking inside the mind for evidence of mental processes or therapeutic change, rejected by behaviorists for its lack of objectivity
Microaggressions - Comments or actions made in a crosscultural context that convey prejudicial, negative, or stereotypical beliefs and may suggest dominance or superiority of one group over another
Negative Punishment - A form of punishment in which the individual “loses something good”
Negative Reinforcement - A form of reinforcement in which the individual “loses something bad”
Neurosis - Along with psychosis, one of the two broad categories of mental illness used in Europe in the 1800s; refers to disorders such as anxiety and depression in which the individual maintains an intact grasp on reality
Overpathologizing - Viewing as abnormal that which is actually normal; can be reduced by increasing cultural competence
Positive Punishment - A form of punishment in which the individual “gets something bad”
Positive Reinforcement - A form of reinforcement in which the individual “gets something good”
Social Support - Relationships with others who can provide support in a time of crisis and who can share in good fortune as well
Source: Clinical Psychology: Science, Practice, and Diversity (5th Edition) by Andrew M. Pomerantz
More: Word Lists ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs
#psychology#writing reference#writing prompt#writeblr#literature#writers on tumblr#poetry#poets on tumblr#words#lit#dark academia#studyblr#langblr#writing resources#word list#terminology
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lemonade mouth/band au! more notes under the cut
lemonade as in like the disney movie! so there are a couple like clear comparisons but mostly it's the bad kids get stuck in detention together except they form a band instead of an adventuring party
fabian > no equivalent (olivia vibes)
the most popular kid at school who is both in dance and on the football team. somehow gets decent grades as well. no close friends, but a lot of people who know him and want to get on his good side. kind of depressed, and his dad's currently in prison. he started playing the guitar as a way to show off and then genuinely started enjoying it
adaine > mo
she's a concert violist (playing the viola) always an accompaniment for her sister and is striking it out on her own for the first time. her family is very upset about this, and consistently puts her down so she'll go along with they want her to do. also she recently transitioned to going to public school for the first time, making her the new girl.
kristen > no equivalent
she's recently ex mormon, got out of her parents house (currently living in her car) and without all of her former friends stuck in a student president position that she got when she was still with the religion. questioning her sexuality after one too many encounters with the soccer team captain, tracker. used to be on the church choir, was a bit too enthusiastic about it.
gorgug > no equivalent (charlie vibes)
he's got like one or two kinda friends (mainly fig). extremely busy with his classes and with marching band and self isolating as a result. he's stressed out about living up to his parent's name (they run a very successful electric engineering company). signed up to work as a sound tech for the theatre department bc one of the female stage managers is very cute (zelda) and then discovered that he rlly like it.
riz > no equivalent
no friends! (other than maybe the AV club + penny) too used to burying himself in work at both his part time gig and with his insane amount of extracurriculars. started playing the piano bc he heard it helps with memory retention and overall cognitive ability.
fig > stella/wen
she's the cool loner skater kid who is the floater friend mostly? she's got a maybe relationship with ayda, who she loves to annoy at the school library. very interested in making her own music not very interested in school. freaking out over her parents getting remarried. her mom enrolled her in music lessons when she was younger, and it's one of the only things she can talk about with her mom these days.
#dimension 20#dimension 20 fantasy high#fantasy high#fantasy high junior year#d20 fhjy#kristen applebees#fabian aramais seacaster#fabian seacaster#riz gukgak#fig faeth#figueroth faeth#gorgug thistlespring#adaine abernant#mik.png#the bad kids human form <3#band au#lemonade mouth au#human au#kristen is the honorary white girl of the group#other ethnicities other than fabian's are kinda up in the air#riz i though pinoy/southeast asian#gorgug polynesian & the thislesprings are hispanic?#fig is east asian/native or some combo#adaine east or south asian#fabian's black on both sides of the family (obv) and mixed as in one parents black american and the other african#not rlly set but thoughts i was thinking while drawing out facial features
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Thank you for making that post. I’m not disabled myself, but my brother is high support, totally nonverbal, and has literally no way of communicating with those around him except for a pictograph based AAC, which is extremely limited for obvious reasons. I’ve really felt like his specific demographic is constantly left out of conversations when it comes to disability advocacy, which is wild to me, because that’s the population most vulnerable to abuse. But it’s like a lot of people — including self advocates within the community, which is extra frustrating — are uncomfortable acknowledging the existence of people with severe intellectual or cognitive disabilities, or whose autism is severe enough to result in a physical symptoms, such as seizures, or behaviors that are disruptive or considered “unpalatable” for whatever reason. I’ve nearly thrown down with someone in person for mentioning savantism as justification for disability advocacy, and I kind of feel like the sweeping high support needs individuals under the rug in favor of low support individuals who might have the ability to live on their own, or who aren’t 24/7, two to one, or line of sight is almost another form of that. Maybe that’s a little misguided of me, but I feel like if your advocacy hinges on the ability to have any functional or “productive” skill at all, rather than on the inherent value of people as people, it isn’t fucking advocacy.
All of this. Absolutely all of this.
Thank you for saying all of this, it’s important to get perspective from families of high support needs individuals.
It’s frustrating when high support needs individuals are thrown under the rug. They are the most valuable and marginalized group within the autism community. They need to be heard and their caregivers and family need to be heard.
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List Of: Details I Loved in The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer
The computer genius is the most emotional!! I feel like we don’t get that a lot, but maybe I’m wrong
Main character starts in China/East Asian inspired city
Prince Kaito has so much damsel energy
Long Lost Rightful Heir To The Throne claims throne and then DISSOLVES MONARCHY!! very fun
The pumpkin car!! </3 rip
The advisor (torin) isn’t evil!!
The doctors admittance that he would have gone on supporting everything on luna and being a devoted citizen, but because it was His Daughter, it should have been different for His Family, she should be The Exception, because That’s His Daughter. He knew his hypocrisy, and hey better late than never??
Acknowledging that seeing levanas true appearance as monstrous isn’t fair or right, and that her appearance doesn’t really have any bearing on her being horrible, because being a monstrous person isn’t about how you look.
Cinder is never not a cyborg
“ I don’t wanna hear anyone say anything about how delicious that is!” “It’s completely disgusting, you would hate it.”
“None of my friend’s bodies are replaceable, why should mine be?”
Just Iko. She’s the best.
Scarlet Growls At People Sometimes
Thorne canonically had a five year plan in high school
Mandarin suffixes for respect reasons in New Beijing (Linh-jie, Linh-mei, Linh-DaRen)
They ate the celebratory cake with a combat knife because they baked a cake and everyone forgot utensils
For most of the time, even when she is being terribly threatening and unspeakably evil, Levana is beautiful. And not beautiful in the untouchable and intimidating way, but in a way where you just admire her and adore her. Very specifically, when she is described, her voice is pleasant and melodic, her face is stunning and breathtaking. Yes she is awful, and eventually she starts declining in her emotional and mental control so that more of her irritation and cruelty and anger show, but initially the cognitive dissonance of this woman who looks so beautiful and charming and gracious act so callous and entitled is meant to be there
Some men can be useful when separated from their object of Eternal Loyalty and Devotion. Some cannot. I’m looking at you wolf -_-.
Revolutions are bloody— when your advantage over the oppressive regime is numbers, you are going to end up stepping over the bodies of fellow rebels just to take a shot at the palace gates. They can’t take all of you, but they sure can kill a lot of you.
I’m about to get my throat bitten out by my good friend wolf for the fifth time in three days :)
Everyone was thinking it, and no one voiced the thought— can cinder swim?
Snow White and her animals VS Winter in her animal sanctuary parallels
The Snow White character is black!
The emperors most plot relevant abilities are diplomacy and speechwriting
Cyborg character has an inbuilt lie detector, but has no other emotion sensors, just knows when someone is lying
The kiss counter
Cinder is at the ball and her remaining stepsister is more pissed that she stole her shoes that she didn’t even chose to wear, and not that cinder is wearing he Recently Deceased Sisters Dress
That one room in the lunar palace that was minimalisticly decorated because it was all made of glass so you could see the glittering city below and the stars above.
The glass that doesn’t reflect anything. How? Who knows but it must have cost a fortune.
Head trauma induced blindness
Temporary shoes made from hair
#listless list#the lunar chronicles#cress darnel#linh cinder#queen levana#emperor kaito#ze’ev kesley#scarlet benoit#cinder#scarlet#cress#winter#jacin clay#yeah I might add more to this#who knows
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@pink-pearl-plain-jeans took a few days but here. hope this is something you actually wanted lol. this is lowkey a ramble but it is an informed ramble.
First, you are gonna seriously regret asking me, because I have nearly 300 hours logged between these two games and half a masters degree in clinical psychology.
Second, to be fair, you don't have know a lot about ballroom dancing -- I know almost nothing. Toward the end of Step 4 on Baxter's route, he will joke to Jamie about the irony of ballroom dancing, which requires both a partner and a certain level of intimacy, is his most beloved hobby, when the ability to form close, intimate relationships is his biggest struggle.
Baxter is a pretty good example of what disorganized, or fearful-avoidant, attachment looks like in adults. He both desperately wants to form emotional connections with others and intensely fears those same attachments, viewing them as inherently unsafe and unstable. The player can see this in the way Baxter attempts to form lots of superficial connections where he overshares personal details while also being evasive about his deeper feelings. He is aware that he needs some level of human interaction and works to fill that need without leaving himself vulnerable to being hurt or abandoned. This can occur in individuals who had inconsistent parents growing up. Baxter's relationship to dancing mirrors his emotional progression with attachment to others.
As a child, he has a stable group of friends and dances at the country club competitively, and thus likely has a stable, consistent partner with whom he performs. We know very little about Mr. and Mrs. Ward, except for the following:
They are older.
They are wealthy, and likely old money.
They are bigoted, like being queerphobic and racist.
They expected Baxter to behave with greater maturity than would have been typical for his age and "at times, as if he was even older [than them]."
He did not want to spend his first summer after college with them, so they shipped him off to a tiny beachside tourist town, either not caring or not knowing that he is petrified of the ocean.
Something about Baxter would be a problem, and they would hate him if he were someone else's child.
From this, we can garner a few things. The first is that the Wards were likely emotionally immature, possibly parentified him, and likely played "it's okay if it's you" card. When we meet Baxter as a child in OLNF, he is clearly very fond of Qiu, Ren, and possibly Tamarack and Franky as well. These relationships likely provided insulation from parents who alternated between being emotionally distant and overcontrolling. It also makes sense that Baxter would be drawn to younger children here. Baxter chalks it up to his own immaturity, but I would argue that it is in fact because he is precocious that he chooses a younger friend group. Kids his own age would likely be put off by his attitude and may take it as condescending, whereas younger children would appreciate him as older and wiser. Additionally, younger children give him the opportunity to play and engage in silly antics that he may have missed out the first time.
I also wouldn't be surprised if there was some cognitive dissonance as well, since his parents probably espoused queerphobic ideals while also professing to love Baxter, who himself is bisexual and knew very well that he was attracted to boys by the age of 12. Given this, and the amount of bitterness with which he later speaks about them, it also would not surprise me if they had some influence on his drifting apart from Ren and Qiu as they got older. Not that this has to be the case, but I could see Baxter avoiding bringing his very-visibly queer friends (including one who is also a POC) around his parents to avoid hurting them.
He grows up and appears in OLBA as a teen who is somewhat adrift. He doesn't appear to have a stable friend group or sense of identity, and he has limited his contact with his parents to the minimum amount that he feels obligated to contact them. Now, shifting identity is pretty normal for young adults, but Baxter's seems less stable than it should be. What I actually thought was really interesting is the subtle shift between Baxter as he presents himself and as he actually is. He presents himself as accommodating, complimentary, confident, and friendly. The person he actually is -- the one he thinks no one will like -- is sardonic, self-effacing, mischievous, and lonely. In his desire to be included, he avoids imposing his will on others -- Jamie can even convince him to wear a swimsuit and go into the ocean if they really want, something he is terrified to do. He is only able to be genuine if either (a) Jamie has made an explicit effort to show him he is accepted or (b) he is emotionally dysregulated enough that he is unable to keep up the charade
Anyway, at this point, he is presumably no longer competing, and no longer has a steady partner. In his first interaction with Jamie and Cove, he is immediately offering to be their partner, which is a deliberate double-entendre. He comes on strong, because he needs the relationship to begin quickly in order the get what he needs out of it. He has no intention of actually taking the time to get to know people or build a genuine connection with them. It's about control here. Also note that he offers this with the implication that he would be teaching them to dance. Even in asking for a temporary connection, he's framing it as him offering a service in exchange for their company because he doesn't see himself as valuable on his own (Qiu also does this btw). In summary, he is dancing with people he barely knows because while the steps won't be familiar or comforting, he doesn't have to worry about mistakes either. (dun dun dun, the mortifying ordeal of being known!)
As an adult, he shifts this into a more formalized version. He isn't stupid, nor does he enjoy hurting people. He knows that most people are unwilling to abandon relationships so quickly, and he knows he's hurt people. The thing about attachment styles is that you can develop a secure attachment style as an adult. The problem is that you do this by essentially re-parenting yourself. Learning to treat himself with self-compassion is really difficult, though, because that's a learned skill. He needs community or a therapist. The problem is that because of his disorganized attachment style, forming a community is difficult and he would probably also have trouble finding a therapist because that would require a level of vulnerability that he struggles with. Baxter also heavily relies on avoidance as a coping mechanism. When he enters into a relationship, because he is primed to view them as unpredictable and conditional, it activates his fight-flight-freeze response. He then attempts to escape the situation by (a) leaving, (b) ghosting/ignoring, and (c) distancing himself using social niceties to avoid confrontation. If he is cornered (like the end of step 3), he switches to fight mode and becomes caustic. This may indicate that if he entered a therapeutic relationship, he is likely to end therapy prematurely to avoid thinking about his loneliness and attachment issues.
So, because he knows he hurts people by doing all of this, and because he doesn't know how to maintain a relationship, he formalizes the arrangement. People literally pay him for a service (planning) and because he is "in" on such an intimate event, he still gets the feeling of getting to know people and be included, without the emotional risk. Same thing with dancing.
That's why dancing with him after the wedding is such a big deal. Yes, it's a callback to a very special moment for Baxter, but it's also a metaphor for re-entering a relationship. He's been looking at and judging his relationships on the ruptures not the repairs, and to be able to repair a relationship after the mask has come off, the set's been wrecked, and the crowd is gone means that he has lived a lonely life for no reason.
Anyway, all this is to say that Cove was 100% right when he clocked that Baxter was insincere and interacted with people in a really weird way. No one listened though.
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wish people actually respect me respect my decision respect my identity when say am nonverbal not nonspeaking.
[plain text: wish people actually respect me respect my decision respect my identity when say am nonverbal not nonspeaking.]
there this idea keep float around about how nonverbal & nonspeaking mean different things. how nonverbal = without words cannot communicate with words at all, & nonspeaking = not speak via mouth. know where it came from where it extrapolate from, but also don’t know where it came from.
because that not really true.
medical people use nonverbal. while nonspeaking coined by community of people (often autistic people who not speak from severe motor apraxia not from language communication or intellectual disability) who not speak via mouth.
in past & still now, but especially past, medical people assume cannot talk via mouth always = cannot think cannot understand, that not talk via mouth always mean have nothing to say. so they treat people who do not talk via mouth bad (because they treat people who cannot understand & people w intellectual disability bad). n because medical people use nonverbal, somehow somewhere became “nonverbal” is why think cannot think cannot understand.
but is assumption about all people who not talk via mouth. not about term nonverbal. nonverbal just tool. if use any other word, would still hold same assumption. if since very beginning used nonspeaking, but still have same assumption that not talk via mouth always = not think not understand, nothing would be different.
this assumption lead people who not talk via mouth be denied education. be denied help. because they think people not talk via mouth cannot understand. n they think people who cannot understand not deserve education or help. thus people who not talk via mouth also not deserve education or help.
so many people who not talk via mouth but can understand can use words fight back. hey we can understand can learn can communicate in other ways can use words. n because medical people use nonverbal when describe their assumption, some of them also fight back against term nonverbal. maybe they can’t separate term used from assumption because it so tangle together. so they say they not nonverbal they nonspeaking. okay.
except some of them fight back against assumption by saying, they deserve education deserve help because they intelligent. because their “mind intact”. because they can write complex grammar correct just like everyone else, as long as with proper help. because all that ability they deserve help.
but what about those who not intelligent by their standards by doctor standards, who have intellectual disability, who mind “not intact” (whatever that means?), who even with best help cannot write communicate complex & grammar correct? this punch down advocacy, leaving people behind advocacy, throw people under bus advocacy, am very uncomfortable by. find it dangerous.
many people who do this also call self nonspeaking, reject nonverbal.
but still, know is fault of people (some who happen call self nonspeaking) themselves, not inherent term “nonspeaking” fault.
n yes, because seen so many people who call self nonspeaking hold this idea, even tie their intelligence their language abilities as reason why they nonspeaking not nonverbal, am often on guard nervous when meet people who call self nonspeaking n strongly refuse nonverbal.
n because disability really affect cognitive, & my language communication disability exist n visible even with best communication support, simply don’t feel like nonspeaking & nonspeaking community represent me. so personally, am not nonspeaking.
still, not get to tell others, you’re not nonspeaking. or that term nonspeaking make me uncomfortable so people not allow call self that, that it wrong term wrong definition.
same reverse. okay, because your past you get nervous n upset about term nonverbal n struggle separate term from everything else. so don’t call self nonverbal call self nonspeaking. but still, you still not get tell me how should call self. because nonverbal not actual mean that, as explained above.
am respect people call self nonspeaking. not going tell you you not nonspeaking. not going tell you that community you ally for advocating with, they not nonspeaking. just wish had same respect extent to me.
respect that for you or someone you know, them writing spelling typing is be verbal. wish got same respect for me, that my AAC is me speaking.
have been attacked n harassed n bullied for call self nonverbal. be denied community for call self nonverbal instead of “more appropriate” nonspeaking. have been called fake n all sorts of names n bad things n be told am not nonverbal bc other people know better than me. used to be okay with both terms, but pushed by harassment n bullying to go opposite direction, “actually. am nonverbal. only nonverbal. fuck you.” be done by speaking people. by nonspeaking people. don’t know which group more insulting to receive from.
feel betrayed by the people who say this who also cannot speak via mouth. we so similar yet we so different, n you deny my existence when am trying so hard make sure both us get express our different self.
feel… don’t even know how feel, about speaking people with more communication abilities communication privilege, cognitive abilities & privilege, overall more abilities n less support needs n more privilege, benefiting from all that while argue over me about personal experience how personal call self, who struggle even be aware of feeling n ideas n then communicate basic ideas in back n forth conversations.
it truly such huge MACRO aggression for other people tell me, someone who actually can’t talk via mouth, that am wrong about what say about self. to tell someone with cognitive issues that they know abt me better than me. as if there isn’t already extensive history of people do this to people like me.
call self nonverbal not mean think be deny education deny help all your trauma okay. call self nonspeaking not mean less ableist better advocate for people who not talk via mouth (which include people with ID & communication difficulties not just mouth speech). people who call self nonverbal not your trauma, people who call self nonspeaking not automatic free of ableism.
let me be. include me in your advocacy. not your punching bag. not your ladder to discard behind while you climb for your rights.
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Can we all collectively stop saying that 'Harry is so much like James' or 'Harry is just like Lily except he looks like James'? Harry is just Harry. He is his own person, and is way better of a person even as a teenager than his parents or any of the marauders ever were. It's honestly insulting and embarrassing when these marauders stans try so hard to point out similarities between them. Like, yeah, no shit sherlock. That's how genetics work, you get half of mother and half of father, whether it be looks or personality or whatever.
The difference, however, is that Harry went through so much hardships in his life, so much trauma, that it actually made him more emotionally intelligent than his parents ever were in their 20 years. He was able to relate to people around him and understand their point of view because of the fact that he had to emotionally mature faster for survival sake. That is what makes Harry. That is one of the many things that makes him the main character of his own story.
From a cognitive development perspective, it's very unlikely that a child who never knew or had any kind of reference to their parents (as is the case with Harry) would truly have things in common with them. There are certain aspects that are hereditary, such as health or mental health issues, but personality itself is not deterministic, it largely depends on the environment in which one is raised.
Both Lily and James were children who were deeply loved and cherished by their parents. Lily was the younger sibling and the golden child of the family, while James was an only child born to an older wizard couple who had spent half their lives trying to have children. Both grew up surrounded by love and attention, which really explains why, in some aspects, they were egocentric and had very little empathy for anything that didn’t directly affect them.
Harry, on the other hand, has trouble expressing his emotions and feels uncomfortable when others express theirs in front of him because he grew up in a repressive environment where affection, care, or emotional support didn’t exist. Accepting and normalizing his own feelings is something he’s not used to, nor is doing the same for others. This is a consequence of the kind of cognitive development he experienced.
Despite that, Harry is actually quite mature for his age in other ways, for example, in his ability to give second chances. Harry is capable of understanding the context behind people’s actions and being fair about it. He shows this by accepting Dudley’s apology, even though Dudley had bullied him his entire life. He shows it by learning to appreciate Severus despite so many years of hatred, recognizing what he did and the sacrifice he made. He also shows it by choosing not to condemn the Malfoys because of Narcissa’s gesture during the war.
When Harry isn't giving in to his impulses or stubbornness, he's actually very capable of seeing the bigger picture and acting accordingly. His parents weren’t like that, they only saw things in black and white. So yes, absolutely, Harry is Harry. He may look like his parents, but he has nothing in common with them in terms of character or personal development. Harry is a much better person than his parents ever were, and he was already better even as a child, but then again, his parents were very privileged. He had to go through a lot of suffering.
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SMILING LIKE A FOOL - A.H
a/n: heyyyy home slices it's me back from the dead! finals are killing me, and this was my procrastination piece. needed to write about my bombshell baby! but surprise she's the one getting flustered this time! gasp!
(for those of you who saw me spell write like right NO YOU DIDNT!!!)
masterlist
pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader
warnings: um none i think idk friends its been too long since i've done this
wc: 1.8k
The knock was more a formality as you nudged the door open with your hip, juggling a stack of neatly organized files and a coffee cup with a pink heart sticker on the lid (discreet enough that only Hotch should see). Your gaze naturally gravitated to Hotch first, as it often did, lingering just a moment longer than necessary as you offered him a subtle wink. He cleared his throat awkwardly, adjusting his tie as he muttered something inaudible under his breath, his hand half-covering his mouth, though the slight color rising to his cheeks did not go unnoticed by you.
"Hi, good morning!"
You rounded the table, a sway in your step as you approached Hotch's chair. Setting the stack of items in front of him, you leaned in, closer than strictly necessary, your fingertips brushing his shoulder lightly. Your hair, delicately scented with roses, grazed his jawline as you shifted. His posture stiffened, his expression unreadable, though you caught the subtle flare of his nostrils as he inhaled sharply.
"Sorry for interrupting," you said with a sweet smile that didn't match the glint in your eyes.
You weren't sorry, and the way Hotch's lips pressed into a thin line told you he saw right through the fib. When he leaned back, almost imperceptibly into your space, his shoulder brushed against your stomach. His muttered thank you was low and gruff, and it almost felt like an admission of defeat. You smirked, basking in the victory of knowing how effortless you could unravel the infamous Aaron Hotchner with just a touch and a perfectly polished smile.
You smiled warmly at the team before straightening, your perfectly styled hair bouncing as you rolled up the sleeves of your sparkly sweater. The conference room was always too warm, and today was no exception.
"Oh honey, you could never interrupt." Garcia was the first to butt in, followed by a few other sounds of agreement.
"Flattery will get you everywhere."
"Well, hey there, good looking." It was then that Morgan stepped into the room. His eyes sparkled as they landed on you, smile growing wider as he crossed the room. Without missing a beat, he slung an arm over your shoulder like it was second nature. "You feeling better?"
The past week had been a miserable blur of you twisting into every position imaginable to appease a stomachache that refused to budge. The first morning had been the worst — waking up suddenly, barely making it to the bathroom, and sparing Aaron's freshly washed sheets from catastrophe. For a brief, terrifying moment, your mind had spiraled to the possibility of pregnancy. But the nine-dollar test from Rite Aid had quickly put that fear to rest.
Before you could respond, Hotch cut in, "I told her she need to take more time off."
You gave him an exaggerated huff, placing a hand over your heart. "I'm totally fine, pinky promise."
Spencer, frowning slightly, chimed in, "When I asked for more time off to complete my latest paper on cognitive psychology, I had to justify every hour in writing."
Hotch ignored Spencer's grumble of favoritism (that was definitely true), clearly uninterested in entertaining the complaint. His gaze fixed squarely on you, his eyebrow raising as if to say, Go ahead, lie to me.
You edged closer, letting your smile grow sugary sweet. "Oh, don't worry about me, boss man! I have this weird ability to recover from sicknesses super quickly, like magic."
The blatant lie hung between you, and you could see in his eyes that he wasn't buying a word of it. That was part of the fun, honestly. He knew better. After all, he'd been there every step of the way through your so-called recovery. But still, his gaze lingered on you, jaw tightening as he swallowed back his words. He knew that saying too much would tip the scales, and he wasn't about to risk exposing what was to stay hidden.
In truth, you weren't exactly quick to bounce back from illness, autoimmune disease problems and all, but you didn't mind too much. Not when it meant you got the full Hotch Care Package. You savored the attention and coddling. He held your hair, made you soup, rubbed your feet, all without a single complaint. The man was practically a saint, and honestly, you were tempted to milk it just a little bit longer.
"Hotch can say what he wants, but the rest of us are just glad to have you back, princess." Morgan released your shoulder with a tight squeeze before nodding toward the others. "Hendrick found something on the Anderson case in the lab, wants us to come check it out."
You lingered by the table, watching them file out one by one, leaving behind a trail of disorganized files and lukewarm coffee in their wake. Aaron stayed behind, turning his chair toward you as if he'd been waiting for this exact moment. Once the coast was clear, you hopped up on the table, swinging your legs slightly.
You flashed him a smile, pressing your palms onto the table and leaning in just a little, coking your head to the side. He was watching you, of course, he always was. His lips twitched in that way you loved, forming the smallest smile, something that was becoming more and more common these days (which you proudly took credit for).
With a dramatic sigh that was probably a little over the top, you swung your legs around and plopped your high-heeled feet right in his lap.
"You know, Mr. Hotchner," you began, batting your lashes like it was second nature, "skipping the goodbye kiss this morning almost made me forget how much I really love your adorably grumpy face. Are you willing to have that on your conscience?"
Aaron let out a long sigh, gently easing your feet out of his lap, leaving them to swing idly. "You are going to get me in trouble."
You pouted, crossing your arms over your chest, the motion making his gaze linger on your tits before quickly returning to your face.
"Well, you're already in trouble with someone."
He raised his eyebrows, pretending to be clueless. "And who might that be?"
You blinked innocently, not aware that it was a rhetorical question. "With me, duh!"
Hotch stood, closing the small space between you, and just like that, your pulse was racing like you were in high school all over again. How did he still have this effect on you?
"Duh." He was teasing you now. You tried to glare at him, but it wasn't convincing, not with the way you were fighting the urge to grin like an idiot.
"So, are you going to make it up to me, or do I need to find someone else to keep my bed warm tonight?"
You arched a perfectly shaped brow, watching with barely concealed glee as Aaron's jaw tightened and his gaze darkened. He opened his mouth, ready to fire back, but you smirked and pushed further.
"Well, I'm sure Spencer or Morgan would be happy to —,"
You didn't even get to finish before his lips slammed into yours, silencing you with a kiss that made your heart flutter, and your mind go blank, forgetting every word you just said. The kiss was firm, yet urgent, as if he was trying to prove a point. You melted without hesitation, a giggle bubbling from your chest as your arms looped around his neck. His hands steadied you at your waist, and he pulled back, his expression had softened in that way that made him look ten years younger.
Still smiling, you pinched his side. "Mr. Hotchner! We're at work! Tsk tsk!"
Aaron exhaled a deep breath, pressing a fleeting kiss to your cheek. "I'll see you at home."
He straightened up and turned towards the door. You admired the view for just a moment, and you couldn't stop yourself from smiling — who gave him the right to look that hot while walking away? Determined not to be left behind, you quickly clattered after him, heels clicking (and probably echoing obnoxiously) across the floor.
"Also, can we order Chinese tonight?" You called out, pitching your voice a little louder as Aaron's annoyingly long strides widened the gap between you.
Aaron response was a familiar, low grunt, one of the many unspoken agreements in your relationship that you'd grown to understand. Translation? Yes, dear.
"Oh, wait!" you blurted out, fumbling with your phone as you tried to type out your thoughts before they disappeared like soap bubbles. "And face masks! Can we do face masks? And, wait, wait, wait —The Holiday! Can we watch The Holiday?"
You were juggling your phone, purse, and wild ideas all at once, scribbling your mental to-do list into your Notes app with one hand while the other flailed in an effort to keep balance. Aaron, still unbothered and impossibly composed, moved ahead like some well-dressed gazelle.
"Wait! I just had another idea —,"
Aaron came to abrupt stop. You let out a squeak as you barely avoided plowing straight into his back, his forearm shooting out to steady you just in time.
"Can we table this conversation for later?" he asked, that stoic voice doing absolutely nothing to hide his fondness for you.
You opened your mouth the protest that this was important, but he cut you off. "But yes, to all of the questions."
You gasped like you'd just won the lottery. "All of them? Even The Holiday?" You wiggled your eyebrows, grinning ear-to-ear. "I knew you loved that movie."
Aaron stopped you before you could say another word, his hand settling lightly on your arm as he leaned just a fraction closer. "No," he murmured, voice dropping low enough to send a shiver through you, "I just love you."
Your cheeks flared instantly, warmth blooming across your face as you blinked at him. "Oh."
Aaron watched you squirm for a moment, clearly enjoying your flustered state, far too smug for someone who'd just dropped the L word at work.
"I've told you I love you, haven't I?" He was teasing, knowing he had said it more times than you could count.
"Yeah, but you've never said it so... so loudly. And at work," you hissed, glancing over your shoulder as if someone might pop out of a closet and catch you.
He arched a brow. "That's loud?"
"For you it is!"
Aaron shook his head, laughing softly as he turned back towards the direction of the lab. "You're too easy to fluster. Go back to work before I decide to really embarrass you."
You were sure you had landed in a different dimension. You? Easy to fluster? You pressed your palms to your warm cheeks as you turned on your heel to head back to your desk.
But you were still grinning like an absolute fool the whole way.
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#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reaeder#aaron hotchner x fem reader#aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader#aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader#aaron hotchner x bimbo reader
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Probably reading into it too much, but it's interesting that Viktor's waistcoat folds over the left side instead of the standard.

Context:
Most mens clothing buttons/fastens over the right with the left side on top like so:

While women's clothing folds the other way:

Supposedly, this is not to distinguish gender, but to aid in dressing. This distinction dates back to when most [upper class] women were assisted in dressing. It was easier for [right handed] servants to fasten clothing which was buttoned over the wearer's left. Men, however, would dress themselves and had an easier time buttoning clothes that folded over the right.
Now, in today's society (or in the society of Arcane) this is irrelevant as most people dress themselves (with the exception of those with mobility or cognitive issues such as infants, the elderly, or the disabled). Thus, this has become nothing more than a gender-distinguishing trait in fashion.
This probably doesn't mean anything, but I noticed it while looking at references for my cosplay. It bothers me.
The possible takeaways are as follows:
Viktor wears women's clothing for a plethora of possible reasons (trans viktor confirmed!!!!?!?!??)
Viktor lacks the motor skills needed to fasten his clothes and requires some form of help
He's left handed and has custom clothing to aid mobility
It's symbolic of his physical ability and independence (like how vi and jinx have Vs and Xs in their designs)
It's a meaningless design trait that the artists incorporated without any deep, hidden meaning and I'm just projecting my historical fashion hyperfixation onto my current project.
(Although please note that every male character has vests/blazers/coats that fold over the correct way or down the middle, with the exception of Viktor and also Heimerdinger for some reason) (but also note that I didn't check every character) (and I don't seriously believe any of this, I'm just bothered by the knowledge that the way everyone's clothes fold over is seemingly random and has nothing to do with established fashion norms and no other apparent pattern. But the idea of trans viktor, however unlikely, was enough to cast my findings into the void.)
#arcane#arcane analysis#viktor arcane#viktor#viknat#viktor nation#cosplay#fashion history#design analysis#please this bugs me so much
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Idk if u answered this before but would color have social media
cause idk why but I find it funny as hell that they would know brainrot and the souls would be laughing about it so much
I personally don’t think he’d be on social media much, at least not compared to Epic or Killer.
He’d definitely have a phone and probably has a few games and social media apps downloaded, like Tumblr mainly because he likes the stimboards and looking at posts about his interests, probably has YouTube.
I can only see him having TikTok because Killer and Epic kept sending him videos via text messages that he could never watch because he didn’t have the app downloaded.
Other than that, I think not only is Color very behind on recent apps, trends, memes, etc. due to his decades of isolation and having to figure out how to operate and adjust to technology again (especially recently developed technology that he might’ve missed out on during his time in the Void), but I also don’t think he spends much time on his phone except during periods where he felt too alone and isolated (during his time in the hospital perhaps) and during the period where his and Killer’s friendship was still developing during Killer’s time under Nightmare.
I’m considering the idea that maybe lurking on social media apps, not doing anything but watching videos and reading comments or just silently watching other people talk to each other in discord servers or group chats, could potentially help Color feel less alone without the overwhelm and stress of having to physically be around people before his mind and body has time to adjust to it.
But there’s also the possibility that lurking in group chats and not being acknowledged because he’s not chiming in to chat—or worse, deciding to chime in and being ignored—could trigger an episode of derealization in him.
He can’t see, touch, or even hear the people that’s supposedly behind the screens and typing those messages—he has no proof they’re actually real. He has no proof that his existence is still real, and that he hasn’t been forgotten or erased again.
These times are probably when he needs to take breaks from social media, from his phone, and try to find a way to ground himself before he spirals into a panic attack or an episode of psychosis.
On top of this, with time still moving on while he was in the Void and there being no technology during his time in captivity—and very little activities to do to keep his mind and body active—not only would Color be very far behind in technological advancements, but he may struggle with cognitive decline—such as memory degeneration or struggle with memory retrieval.
So even if he’s handed a phone he knew existed before he fell into the Void—even if he knows that he understood how to use this phone before—he’ll still struggle to recall how to use it.
Skills require reinforcement. Without practice, even basic technological skills (like using a phone, typing, or navigating software) could deteriorate. If he used to code, edit videos, or operate specific devices, those abilities might be rusty or completely forgotten.
Without the mental exercise of problem-solving daily issues (which technology often requires), their ability to “figure things out” could be impaired.
He might experience anxiety or frustration when encountering technology, feeling overwhelmed by how much they don’t understand.
Phones, computers, smart assistants, AR/VR, and even basic interfaces would feel foreign. He might not immediately understand touchscreen gestures, biometric security (face ID, fingerprint scanning), or AI assistants.
With social media platforms, he wouldn’t understand what’s popular, how they work, or digital etiquette. They might not recognize how entertainment has shifted from DVDs or early internet platforms to on-demand streaming.
Entire ways of communicating—like meme culture, slang, internet trends—may be lost on him. Multi-factor authentication, encryption, and cybersecurity concerns would be unfamiliar.
They may not understand how to navigate digital privacy, potentially making him vulnerable to scams or data exploitation. He might expect direct phone calls rather than texting or social media messaging.
Emojis, GIFs, and shorthand might be confusing or seem meaningless to them. Color might begin to feel frustrated and alienated, feeling like a “time traveler” thrown into a world he doesn’t understand, struggling to keep up.
They may resist using modern technology due to intimidation or resentment. He could avoid it as much as possible, or even grow to develop Technophobia.
The sheer speed and saturation of digital life (ads, notifications, video content, instant access to information) might be too much at once—and Color could struggle with overwhelm and sensory overload, the stress leading to episodes of dissociation.
He might try to make a call but not understand why payphones no longer exist or how smartphones work. He might struggle to use a self-checkout machine because he expected cashiers.
He might not recognize voice-activated AI assistants like Siri or Alexa, thinking a person is speaking to them. He might find modern websites overly cluttered and overwhelming compared to the simpler internet he knew.
He might get lost in a city because he expected to read paper maps rather than use GPS apps. He might feel isolated in conversations when people reference digital culture, memes, or slang he doesnt understand.
They might have an emotional reaction to something like facial recognition or biometric security, feeling watched or controlled.
They’d need gradual reintroduction to prevent overwhelm. Someone patient would need to walk him through even basic things like using a phone or searching online.
He might prefer physical books, notes, and manual methods rather than digital alternatives at first. If he focuses too much on how far behind they are, it could fuel self-loathing or despair.
This could be a deeply frustrating and alienating experience, reinforcing the sense that the world moved on without him.
On top of all this, too, is the fact that 1. he is a Sans alternate timeline, therefore he likely ‘grew up’ Underground and only had access to whatever technology fell from the Surface intact or whatever was able to be scavenged and repurposed, and 2. he has the souls of human children inside him.
He can potentially be effected by their knowledge of things on the Surface and human culture based on their what they’re able to tell him, show him, what he dreams about (potentially souls’ memories), or even if something triggers one of the souls and he sees whatever they’re remembering.
Taking further into account that not only have the souls been removed from the rest of the world for about two decades like Color has, but they were removed from the Surface and human world for even longer via being locked away in jars.
On top of that, it all depends on what year the souls were born and what year they Fell/were killed, and how far apart the six of them were. One soul might know something about technology none of the others do, because the other souls either weren’t born yet or died before getting to know.
#howlsasks#theartsynebulawhodoodles#cw derealization#utmv#sans au#sans aus#utmv headcanons#othertale six human souls#color sans#colour sans#color!sans#othertale sans#othertale#six human souls#fallen children#fallen humans#omega timeline#undertale au#undertale aus#plural color#system color#cw child death#cw isolation#color probably feels like he’s stupid. constantly feeling like he should just *know* these things. but he doesn’t.#killer sans#epic sans#flavortext duo#color spectrum duo#chromatic crew#post void color
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The Warmth of Your Gaze
China x AFAB! Reader - University AU
I can still remember your warm hands that take care of me without change.
// the things i would do for homecooked food from that man..... ouhhh wang yao my first love. not at all grammar checked this shit written from live experience except i dont have a gorjus boyfriend who will cut me apples
In all your years of dating, Yao has never said he loves you, ever.
He's never said it in English or in Mandarin, nor in Cantonese or Hokkien. He's never typed it out nor gestured it.
But that's fine. He doesn't have to say it for you to know.
Once you complained about your rapidly shedding hair and he shows up the next day at your dorm with wood ear fungus and sesame seeds, ready to make a bulk stock of vinegary 'salad' and sesame soup. The other time you offhandedly mentioned how painful your cramps were, only to find a pot of goji berries, gingers, apples and sugared water on your stove.
And when it comes to this dreaded week of brain fog and partial cognition, when you've gotten so tied up with this test and that test and that assignment and those chapters to revise, you know it more than ever.
Half hanging off your bed, your brain buzzes with formulas and concepts that just barely mesh together all the while your boyfriend absentmindedly flit between a piece of white fish on the stove and the pan of hot oil. Somehow, he's managed to find a way to revise while doing all this and no matter how much you envy this skill (whether this is a testament to his intelligence or cooking ability, you don't know), he refuses to even teach you.
You really should study but it's hard to when numbered equations have more words than numbers and the smell of fragrant soy sauce and ginger are tempting you more than ever.
Just as you're about to roll off the bed to turn yourself into a human barrel, you feel a pair of eyes boring into the back of your skull, as if able to tell exactly what you were planning. There is a primal instinct to turn but you know if you do, all you'll get is a disappointed look so potent you'd think both your parents possessed him.
So you don't. Because your boyfriend kind of scares you when he gets into his moods when he's adamant on your studying.
Hands labour over an old notebook page with every corner filled to the brim with calculations and mistakes. Running a hand over your face in some mix of despair and desperation, all you can do is wearily blink past whatever exhaustion you got to finish your last question.
Fingers tapping away at your calculator, you switch back to the open tab of data on your computer then to the other tab of tables, forcing your feeble brain to comprehend exactly what you were looking for before writing down your answers. As you're doing exactly this for what seems like ten million subsections of the same damned question, there's a hand atop your shoulder urging you to look back.
"Eat." A cut piece of persimmon is shoved right in front of your lips, the sweet flesh on the precipice of your senses as Yao waits for you to open your mouth.
Without question, you do exactly that, chewing for a few seconds too little before going back to your questions. "Aiyah! Don't swallow so fast, what if you choke?"
"Then I'll die and I won't have to do my tests."
Smacking your shoulder, he huffs, "Don't say such inauspicious things! Eat more."
At that, the noise that leaves your lips can only be described as the unholy lovechild of a groan and a whine, your spine flopping backwards onto his body as if nothing more than a soggy piece of paper. A small yawn escapes your lips and yet the sheer force of it squeezes stray tears from your eyes.
His hand drags your form away from your position, maneuvering your body to lean against him only to press another piece of fruit to your lips. "This is why I always tell you to eat breakfast then you won't be so tired."
"Lazyyy," You mutter, chewing carefully this time.
"When are you not?"
Another yawn. Everything you've been desperately trying to grasp onto slips through your fingers. You yawn again, close your eyes and blindly reach for the bowl of cut fruit.
He lowers his voice, his tone gentle, "Eat first, you can continue when you aren't on the verge of passing out."
There's a shift of fabric and your fingertips finally make contact with the cold ceramic, feeling around for the soft flesh to continue eating.
Just barely, you register another shift, and yet the feeling of a warm hand petting your hair is distinct, it's him.
And sure, your boyfriend will probably never tell you he loves you, but he will never have to. Every drop of herbal tea and every piece of cut fruit is an 'I love you' of its own, every minute and every hour he gives you is worth more than those three words.
#hetalia#hetalia axis powers#hetalia world stars#hetalia x reader#aph china#hws china#china x reader
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