#not that IQ means anything

[knickynoo]

The Keatons + name meanings

[silusvesuius]

my nelvas and moraak thought crumblets

[ravewing]

looks at the xmas tree with my neurodivergent eyes (i will actually lose it if i have to wait another day to open presents)

[becauseimanicequeen]

Could you explain the contrasting colors more cuz that stuff goes right above my head. lol. Thanks.

Hi, Anon.

To explain complementary/contrasting colors, I need to get into some basic color theory.

So, let me stretch my fingers and dig into this nerdy shit I love.

I'm pretty sure you've already seen something like this before:

This is a photo I took of a color-wheel illustration in Betty Edwards' book "Color".

This is a traditional color wheel with 3 primary colors, 3 secondary colors, and 6 tertiary colors.

(I'm putting their numbers in the parentheses below so you'll know which color I'm referring to on the color wheel.)

The primary colors can't be created by mixing other colors/pigments. These are the basic colors you need to create the other colors on the color wheel. The primaries are:

Yellow (12)

Red (4)

Blue (8)

The secondary colors are those you get by mixing two of the primaries together. They are:

Orange (2) (yellow + red)

Purple (6) (red + blue)

Green (10) (blue + yellow)

The tertiary colors are those you get by mixing a primary color with a secondary color that's right next to it. Those are:

Yellow-Orange (1)

Red-Orange (3)

Red-Purple (5)

Blue-Purple (7)

Blue-Green (9)

Yellow-Green (11)

The tertiary colors usually have different names in everyday language (like turquoise or indigo). But I'm coming from a painter's perspective when naming the tertiary colors because this was how I learned how to identify hues and mix them properly (and, as you can see, the primary color is always mentioned first).

Anyway...

Since you asked me about contrasting colors, let's dive into that.

Contrasting colors are also called complementary colors. These colors sit on the opposite sides of the color wheel (I'll get more into this in a moment).

They're called contrasting colors because they contrast each other. They can contrast each other in value (as in how much/little light they reflect) and they can contrast each other in temperature (at least in the traditional sense of temperature where every color from purple up to yellow-green is cool while every color from yellow to red-purple is warm).

(The latter statement is made with some reservations as all colors on the color wheel can have both cool and warm temperatures, which is important to know when painting with natural pigments (like oils and watercolor). However, since this is not about painting, I'm keeping it simple here.)

The reason they're called complementary colors is because they also complement each other. When put close to each other (or, as in my profession, somewhere within the confines of the same canvas), it creates high impact and contrast. The colors pop.

The contrasting/complementary colors of the colors wheel are:

Yellow (12) + purple (6)

Yellow-orange (1) + blue-purple (7)

Orange (2) + blue (8)

Red-orange (3) + blue-green (9)

Red (4) + green (10)

Red-purple (5) + yellow-green (11)

Note how all of these combinations have all three primary colors in them in one way or another, which shows how important the primaries are:

Yellow + purple (red + blue)

Yellow-orange (yellow + red) + blue-purple (blue + red)

Orange (yellow + red) + blue

Red-orange (red + yellow) + blue-green (blue + yellow)

Red + green (blue + yellow)

Red-purple (red + blue) + yellow-green (yellow + blue)

Let's look at some examples of these contrasting colors (I'll just do the primaries and their contrasts because those are the easiest to find):

This is what yellow and purple can look like together:

Wandee Goodday.

This is what orange and blue can look like together:

Living With Him.

This is what red and green can look like together:

KinnPorsche.

The interesting thing about contrasting colors is that while they complement each other well, they cancel each other out when mixed (which creates gray/black).

So, whether you mix yellow + purple, red + green, blue + orange, or any of the other contrasting colors together, you'll get gray/black.

That's why I lost my shit a bit in this post about Wandee Goodday, which I think you based your ask on.

This is as far as I'll take it in this post. I hope you found these basics interesting and useful.

Thank you for your ask.

[sinileijona]

i know ffxiv has never been big on doing race specific dialogue, but there's a small part of me that was sort of hoping that there'd be at least some kind of small acknowledgement in iq br'aax (or anywhere in dawntrail for that matter) for a hroth WoL at some point, even during a side quest or something...

[wizard-mp4]

[faking-god]

Come inside Twist the knife Like it's something to do I'm a voluntary victim

bonus stills bc i worked hard on them

[sapphia]

love how everyone on this website is like "the justice system's broken!" but they mean like, the US justice system. which is not a system that half of the userbase here actually live under

[overclockedopossum]

Yeah geez

"Humanizing: [...] so that behavior is on me."

This is just an excuse to hate disabled people. The whole point of diagnosis is to understand how people experience the world differently, which is vital when it comes to invisible disabilities.

Without diagnosis, people like me who have invisibile disabilities are just shit. They act wrong because they're shit. They can't do things because they're shit. They can't handle situations because they're shit.

There are some symptoms that you can explain without diagnosis if people have time to be patient with you but when it comes to things like RSD it's vital evidence that you're not just being a dick for the sake of being a dick.

I don't personally have RSD. But if someone does, a situation where they "blow up" is one that really fucking sucks for them. They are having an extremely bad time. The condition is a vulnerability to an extremely intense Bad Feeling in situations that most people are fine with, and the disabled person is likely already putting an absolute fuckload of effort into trying to manage that.

If a NT person has a bad interaction with someone who has RSD because of the RSD, it isn't the disabled person to blame. It's the RSD to blame and both people share the fact that they had a bad time as a result.

And you know what it does to understand that? It actually humanises the disabled person.

Sick list of symptoms bro. Now try humanizing your behavior instead of pathologizing it.

[eightspringdays]

sometimes... sometimes i really have to hold myself by the neck to not be a shooter with certain things I read here that are so fucking bad takes that make me wanna grow lasers in my eyes, but this ain't twitter, and ain't 2018. and im a changed woman.

[becauseimanicequeen]

Why do you often write about contrasting colors? Do you think there's a reason the show creators use contrasting colors on the set and characters?

Hi, Anon.

I first want to point out that contrasting colors can mean different things.

I often write about complementary/contrasting colors, which are colors on the opposite side of each other on the color wheel. So, for example, yellow and purple, red and green, blue and orange.

If we just talk about contrasts, however, it can include what I wrote above, but it can also mean:

Contrasting value (dark vs light), where the combination of black/white is often used, but it can also be, for example, dark blue/light blue if the same color is used or yellow/dark green when different colors are used

Contrasting temperatures (cool vs warm), where, simply speaking, the warm side of the color wheel (all the colors from yellow to red-purple) is set against the cool side of the color wheel (all the colors from purple to yellow-green), and a common contrast here is ice/fire

Contrasting intensity (saturated vs muted), where, for example, an intense, saturated red might stand against a dull, muted red, or a saturated orange might stand against a muted blue if different colors are used

In other words, there are several ways to use contrasting colors in visual media.

I tend to focus on complementary/contrasting colors, contrasts in value, and sometimes contrasting temperatures (if that seems significant to the story).

If I were to make a guess, I would say that the complementary/contrasting colors and contrasts in value are the techniques used the most (and most intentionally) in visual media.

And, in terms of complementary/contrasting colors, I would say that the blue/orange combination is used most often, followed by the red/green combination, and lastly the yellow/purple combination.

Now, to get back to your questions.

There are definitely reasons why creators of QLs (and other visual media) use contrasts.

When complementary/contrasting colors are used together (when they're in the same frame in a show we watch) they pop and grab attention. Since we're talking about visual media, one of the goals of the creators of these shows is to keep the viewer's attention on the screen. Using complementary/contrasting colors is an effective way to do that.

(Using contrasting colors is definitely not the only way to grab and keep the viewer's attention, of course, but it is an effective technique.)

Contrasting colors can be used in set design, lighting, hair colors, clothes, color grading, etc. Color is used everywhere and it's (mostly) intentional.

Now, let's get a bit detailed with some examples.

Contrasts can make the most simple scenes visually pleasing and attention-grabbing. Like this scene from The Rebound:

There isn't much happening in this scene. One person is visible and three items stand out (the basketball more than the whistle and the cup). But the eyes are still engaged because of the contrasts that are at play:

Contrasting value (dark/light): The coach wears dark colors while the window behind him is bright.

Complementary/contrasting colors: He has a blue whistle around his neck and lines on his jacket, which contrasts against the orange ball and the area on the wall behind him.

Contrasting temperature: The warm orange against the cool blue.

Contrasting intensity: The saturated orange of the ball against the muted blue cup.

Another example of the blue/orange combo is this scene from To Be Continued:

The intensity of the orange Ji is wearing compared to the muted blue of the comforter pulls the eyes toward the orange and, in turn, to Ji and the puppy (who are both the focus of this scene as they were abandoned by Achi who decided to run away).

Contrasting colors can also be used in subtle ways that still say a lot about what's going on, like in this scene in I Told Sunset About You:

Here we have the red/green combination. The green coconuts with the red flowers stand between Oh and Bas to pull the eye toward what's happening between them.

Also, Oh is using a green pen while Bas is using a red pen, which is a small detail that makes the color-loving artist in me so happy. That's because Oh, who lives in a (mostly) green world, is drawn to the red. Here he's drawn to the red in Bas, but he's also drawn to Teh who lives in a (mostly) red world.

In other words, contrasting colors can be used to make a scene visually pleasing, pull attention toward the focus of the scene, say something about the characters and what's going on beneath the surface, etc.

When it comes to, in particular, characters and contrasting colors, the black/white, dark/light combination often connects to their overall mood/vibe when used to show contrast. In other words, the character connected with black/dark is usually moodier and more mysterious (often due to hiding some secret or other type of information), etc. While the character connected with white/light is often more open and peaceful, etc.

This can also be used to show that one character is the light in/lights up the other character's dark world. Like Bai Zong Yi (white) and Fan Ze Rui (black) in Kiseki: Dear to Me, and Lee Hyun (white) and Kim An (black) in Love Class Season 2:

When it comes to the complementary/contrasting colors on the color wheel and character pairs that are color-coded in this way, these characters often have contrasting aspects in terms of their personality as well.

To give some examples:

I've previously written about Yak and Dee's (Wandee Goodday) contrasting colors (yellow and purple) and personalities so I won't go too deep into that here. But, to give an example, Dee (purple) is mysterious while Yak (yellow) is more clear/direct.

For some reason, I could only find this example of the red/green combination right now, and that's Rak and Dino in Dinosaur Love. Dino (red) is dominant and a bit temperamental while Rak (green) takes his time (just like plants/nature) and is more even/balanced.

Nuea and Toh is Secret Crush on You display the blue/orange combination. Nuea (orange) is a bit impatient and dominant (which is the red coming out in the orange) while Toh (blue) has a calm (ish) demeanor and is more passive (since he's more focused on his secret crush remaining a secret than believing he can actually have a relationship with Nuea).

There are obviously many more examples, but these were the ones I could remember and find right now.

So, with all that said, I often react to/write about contrasting colors because I love them, because they're visually pleasing, and because they (often) say something more about what we see on the screen or what we hear the characters say. And I absolutely love it when they're used intentionally.

Thank you for your ask.

[trenchgardens-ooc-ooc-ooc-ooc]

please survive

i might have chronic fatigue syndrome.

[earthytzipi]

I mean, yes, this is an experience a lot of autistic people have (myself included, speaking solely about the tags in the reblog above) but can we stop saying that "autism in real life" is supposedly being able to analyze social cues better than allistics? or that "autism in real life" is being hyperverbal or high empathy or deeply in touch with your emotions?

listen. I'm not saying that those aren't really autistic experiences, but I am saying that your experience is not universal, especially if your masking is so highly developed that nobody ever knows until you tell them and then they don't believe you at first. it's not fair for you to erase the autistics for whom none of the above is true.

(as an aside, i also don't *love* the implication in this post that if you are confident in yourself -read: if you don't mask or if your mask is imperfect- you aren't *realistically* autistic... like. hello? some of us don't mask or don't mask well! even at my most insecure, I've gotten the comment from people who don't know me well that I'm "so confident and so willing to be different" when I literally could not be any other way. please don't try to minimize us in our own community.)

[takeyourdailydoseofcyanide]

at times it seems they have given up on attempting to convince me that the ostensibles and the probables bled and feathered and blended. I am sure someone will continue. I have lived my life in perpetual confusion and wish for it to dissipate, but when much of it is purposeful they wish to sap the disorientation to my brain just as the beings do, transportation and evisceration. I find myself recently wary of specifics, their continuous vagueities lead me to treading carefully if at all. their skinsuits will never not appear as odd sacks of communicating and moving flesh to me - curations apparent. I want to write. I have had a questioning thought as of late, it seems one is treated with more sympathy when they are perceived as being “self aware” and or sees themself as living within not reality as well - they’re considered easier to deal with and by those who likely claim to support and have understanding. Simply an observation. /neu I am fine that curations view me as a particular thing, and perhaps I am that thing and that would be due to the beings, but what I know to be true is what I know to be true and if I’m considered argumentative and stubborn then so be it. they lack awareness in some and pretend to in others.

[little-jana]

"Good Girl"

Pairing: postprison!Spencer Reid x reader

Genre: steamy, 18+, fluff, no smut

Warnings: kissing, Spencer calling reader a good girl

Words: 3.4k

Summary: Spencer giving Reader a lot of compliments and one of them makes her blush a lot.

Spencer had been different since prison. Not entirely in ways the team would notice—he still rattled off statistics, quoted obscure literature, and beat everyone at chess. But when you’d known someone as deeply as I knew Spencer, even subtle shifts felt monumental. He was sharper now, his edges honed by experiences no one should have endured. But when it was just the two of us, in those quiet, stolen moments, he softened.

That’s why I stayed by his side tonight instead of joining the team for drinks. Spencer had waved off the invitation, saying he needed a quiet night, and when I hesitated to leave him alone, he’d asked me to stay. It wasn’t much—a shared meal and a chess game in his small apartment—but to me, it felt like everything.

“I can’t tell if you’re planning your next move or plotting my demise,” Spencer said, leaning back in his chair as he watched me.

“I can do both,” I said lightly, though the truth was, I’d been staring at the board for so long because I had no idea what to do.

He smirked, tilting his head slightly. “You’re stalling.”

“I’m thinking,” I corrected.

“You’ve been ‘thinking’ for six minutes and thirty-two seconds.”

“Are you timing me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, but I glanced at the clock when you stopped moving your hand after your last turn.”

“Of course you did,” I muttered, my eyes flicking back to the board. “Not all of us have an IQ of 187, you know.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. The soft light from the lamp behind him highlighted the sharp planes of his face, and for a second, I forgot what we were talking about.

“You’re better than you think,” he said, his voice low.

“Better at chess, or better in general?” I quipped, trying to deflect the heat rising in my cheeks.

Spencer didn’t answer right away. Instead, he studied me, his hazel eyes unblinking and intent.

“Both,” he said simply.

My heart skipped a beat, but I forced myself to focus. This was just Spencer being Spencer—kind and honest to a fault. It didn’t mean anything. Not really.

Finally, I made a move, sliding my bishop into place. I looked up at him triumphantly. “Your turn, genius.”

Spencer’s eyes flicked to the board, and he moved his queen with a casual grace that made my stomach sink. “Checkmate,” he said softly.

“What?” I leaned forward, scanning the board. He was right. Of course he was right.

“How?” I groaned, sitting back in my chair. “I was so careful!”

“That was a good game,” he said, his tone genuine. “You lasted longer than usual.”

I rolled my eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

“No, really,” he insisted. “Your defense has improved. That last move was smart.”

“Then how did I still lose?”

His lips quirked into a smile. “Because I’ve been playing chess since I was four, and you’ve only been playing for—”

“Three months,” I finished for him.

“Exactly,” he said, his smile widening. “But you’re learning fast. Good girl.”

The words hit me like a freight train. My cheeks burned, and I ducked my head, pretending to fiddle with the edge of the table.

“Something wrong?” Spencer asked, his voice tinged with concern.

“No,” I said quickly, my voice higher than usual. “I’m fine.”

“You’re blushing,” he observed, tilting his head.

“I’m not,” I lied, even though I could feel the heat spreading down my neck.

His lips twitched, like he was fighting a smile. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“I’m not lying,” I said weakly, avoiding his gaze.

“Hmm,” he hummed, his tone teasing now.

Desperate to change the subject, I stood and grabbed the empty takeout containers from the coffee table. “I’m going to clean this up.”

Spencer followed me into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as I tossed the containers into the trash. His presence was a tangible thing, and I could feel his eyes on me as I wiped down the counter.

“Good,” he said softly.

I turned to face him, confused. “Good what?”

“Good technique,” he said, nodding toward the counter.

My cheeks flamed again. “Are you just saying that to mess with me?”

“No,” he said, his expression softening. “I mean it. You’re good at a lot of things, but you never give yourself credit.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. “I think you’re overestimating me,” I said quietly.

Spencer stepped closer, his gaze never leaving mine. “No, I’m not,” he said firmly. “You’re smart, capable, and one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. You’re… amazing.”

My breath caught in my throat. The sincerity in his voice, the intensity in his eyes—it was overwhelming.

“Spencer…” I trailed off, unsure of what to say.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against mine. The touch was so gentle, so careful, it made my chest ache. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

I shook my head slightly. “It’s not that… I just don’t see myself the way you do.”

His brows furrowed, and he tilted his head slightly. “You should. Because I’m not wrong.”

The silence between us stretched, thick with unspoken words. I felt like I was standing on the edge of something, and for once, I wasn’t afraid to fall.

“You’re doing it again,” he said softly.

“Doing what?”

“Doubting yourself,” he said, his voice laced with a quiet kind of sadness.

I opened my mouth to argue, but the look on his face stopped me.

“You’re a good girl,” he said, his voice low and steady. “You just don’t know it yet.”

My cheeks burned, and I looked down, unable to meet his gaze.

“Hey,” he said gently, tilting my chin up with his finger. “Don’t hide from me.”

“I’m not hiding,” I whispered, though the words felt hollow.

“Yes, you are,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “And you don’t have to.”

Before I could overthink it, I stepped closer, closing the small distance between us. “Spencer…”

“Yes?”

I hesitated, my heart hammering in my chest. But then his eyes softened, and I knew. I knew he would catch me if I fell.

“I want to kiss you,” I said, my voice barely audible.

Spencer's lips curved into a small, surprised smile. “You do?”

I nodded, my cheeks flaming. “Is that… okay?”

His eyes softened, a mixture of surprise and something deeper—something that made my heart race. “It’s more than okay,” he said quietly.

I barely had time to process his words before his hand cupped my cheek, his fingers feather-light against my skin. He was so close now, his breath warm against my lips. For a moment, we just stood there, suspended in time.

And then he kissed me.

The world fell away.

It started soft, tentative—like he was afraid I’d disappear if he moved too quickly. His lips brushed against mine once, twice, each touch careful and reverent. It was everything I hadn’t dared to hope for: tender, consuming, perfect.

But then I leaned in, my fingers clutching at the front of his cardigan, and something shifted. The kiss deepened, and Spencer’s hand slid from my cheek to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. His other hand rested lightly on my waist, steadying me as my knees threatened to give out beneath me.

The softness gave way to something bolder, more urgent. His lips moved against mine with a fervor that left me breathless, and I couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped me. Spencer stilled for a fraction of a second, as if startled by the sound, but then his grip tightened ever so slightly, and I was lost all over again.

He tasted like peppermint tea and something uniquely Spencer, and I never wanted it to end.

When we finally pulled apart, I was dizzy, my head spinning in the best way possible. Spencer rested his forehead against mine, his breath coming in short, uneven bursts.

“That was…” He trailed off, his voice unsteady.

“Amazing,” I finished for him, my voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and intimate in the quiet of his apartment. “Yeah. Amazing.”

My cheeks flushed, but this time it wasn’t from embarrassment—it was from the way he was looking at me, like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he admitted, his voice low.

“Really?” I asked, my heart swelling at the thought.

He nodded, a small, shy smile playing at his lips. “But I didn’t think you felt the same way.”

“Spencer,” I said, shaking my head with a soft laugh. “How could I not? You’re… you.”

His brow furrowed slightly, like he was trying to puzzle out my words. “I’m not always good at recognizing when people care about me,” he said quietly.

“Well, I care,” I said firmly, my hand still clutching the front of his cardigan. “A lot.”

He smiled then, a real, unguarded smile that made my chest ache in the best way. “I care about you too,” he said softly.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us was thick with unspoken promises, the kind that didn’t need words to be understood.

Spencer’s hand slid from my waist to my hand, his fingers curling around mine. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

I looked away, flustered. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not,” he said, tugging me closer. “You’re smart, kind, and strong. And you’re a good girl.”

There it was again, the phrase that sent my heart into overdrive. My cheeks burned, and I bit my lip, trying to suppress the shy smile threatening to break free.

“You really like saying that, don’t you?” I teased, though my voice came out softer than I intended.

“Only because it’s true,” he said, his thumb brushing over my knuckles.

The sincerity in his voice, the way he was looking at me—I couldn’t take it. I hid my face in his chest, my fingers curling into the fabric of his cardigan.

“You’re impossible,” I mumbled against him, though my tone lacked any real heat.

“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” he replied, his voice filled with gentle amusement.

I tilted my head up to look at him, narrowing my eyes in mock indignation. “You’re lucky I like you.”

His smile widened, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss to my forehead. “I’m the lucky one.”

---

After we settled onto the couch, Spencer pulled a blanket over us, his arm draped around my shoulders as I rested my head against his chest. The quiet hum of the world outside seemed so far away, replaced by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Spencer?” I asked softly, my voice breaking the comfortable silence.

“Hmm?”

“This is real, right?” I tilted my head to look up at him, my eyes searching his face for any hint of hesitation.

He glanced down at me, his brows furrowing slightly. “Of course it’s real. Why would you think it’s not?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my cheeks flushing. “It just feels… too good to be true.”

Spencer’s hand came up to cradle my face, his thumb brushing lightly over my cheek. “It’s real,” he said firmly. “I’m real. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away, focusing instead on the warmth in his gaze. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he said softly, pressing another kiss to my forehead.

And in that moment, with his arms around me and his words echoing in my heart, I believed him.