#emotional assessments

[itsaspectrumcomic]

Sometimes it feels like I'm absorbing the emotions of everyone around me

[fromtheseventhhell]

"I've never seen such anger in a girl" and it's literally just a nine-year-old being quiet after an upsetting event, Arya really experiencing the universal girlhood experience of having your emotions policed for not responding in the "right" way

[emeraldotter]

doodles

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

one of my ed hot takes is that the idea that standardized tests measure too narrow a range of skills is basically backwards. standardized tests measure too many skills - whether you can read, but also shit like whether you have the emotional maturity to select a counterintuitively worded answer that must be correct because the others are obviously wrong. it’s AMAZING how hard this is for students, and how much work it takes to coach them out of “it just didn’t sound right”

[mirror-to-the-past]

GUYS. GUYS. 😭😭 Chongyun and Diona development, holy shit. Groundwork laid for more exploration of Chongyun's pure-yang spirit at some point, but anyway AAAA- he's finally becoming more appreciative of his condition, seeing it less as a curse, and perhaps a blessing, because of the possibility it was borne from love. His intense emotions, his ability to be the warmth in spiritual shadows, he's grateful at the idea that it's all borne from love, man. I'm. So normal right now. That was so beautiful. The music in that cutscene gave me chills.

[wonder-worker]

"Any assessment of the emotional component of the reconciliation of [Empress Matilda and Geoffrey of Anjou] remains speculation: the chroniclers are silent on the issue of whether [they] grew to love, hate, or like each other. We do know, from their movements and actions, that Matilda and Geoffrey eventually arrived at a businesslike arrangement with a united viewpoint toward the dynastic, geopolitical goals that had dictated their marriage in the first place."

"Matilda and Geoffrey effectively transitioned from a Divide and Rule model to a Collaborative Union from 1144 onwards, in which they worked together throughout their marriage to ensure rulership over their territories and gained their rightful lands, as well as ensuring the inheritance for their children. Matilda and Geoffrey’s political partnership can effectively be argued as the most successful through applying different models of rulership. Ultimately the Plantagenets regained Matilda’s inheritance through Henry, conquered Normandy, and produced several male heirs."

Charles Beem, The Lioness Roared: The Problems of Female Rule in English History / Gabrielle Storey, Co-Rulership, Co-operation and Competition: Queenship in the Angevin Domains, 1135-1230

[excelsior9173]

…

i have an extremely hard time being vulnerable with anyone. i hate it. but tonight i managed to open up a tiny bit about how badly i’m doing

and now? now we do the scary thing. find a doctor. ask for a psych referral. find therapy/diagnosis/treatment

i have been telling myself i’d do this for ages. but the last couple weeks have been so bad i think it’s finally the push i need to stop being a coward and get some fucking help. because i cannot go on at the level of “out of control” that i am feeling

but at least the first steps have been taken. those are sometimes the hardest. i hate admitting that i need help, but i know that i need it

[workingforitallthetime]

mason celebrated trevor’s return by grabbing him from behind and thrusting his hips into him and i cannot believe they allowed me and god and everyone to witness this right there on the ice.

otherwise, everything during warmups was as before, although with a little zest gone out of the performance. still popping his bubblegum, still smiling his pleased little coyote smile after his first shot. skated right over to the bench to perform for the camera after his first couple of laps. now mason tees up trevor for one-timers instead of jamie, and zelly and leo have joined special trevor show-off time at the end of warmups. the very end still belongs to him and mason though, they stayed out even after the buzzer and finished off the performance with both of them taking shots at the kraken net (mason missed and trevor didn’t.)

[xerospaced]

If anyone, esp anyone diagnosed Autistic, wants to validate a very autistic but very not diagnosed chick who has done tonnes of research over years that like... my autism is valid even tho the system of diagnosing autism in adults (esp women, especially black women) has failed her...

I wouldn't say no 🙃

[lucienarcheron]

Instincts - I [ Elucien ]

Prompt: A lovely anon sent me this: "Could I please request a fic based on elain reading a really sad book where 1 of the characters dies and she's absolutely torn up over it and Lucien sees her sobbing but he doesn't know what to do cause he doesn't get being invested in fictional characters (plss the irony has me ded) like she does, so he just sits with her and follows his mate bond instinct." So I took the idea and ran with it lol. |

This takes place post-ACOSF. | Part II

Lucien had been rooted to his spot in front of her bedroom door for about ten minutes now.

Ten minutes of him listening to her sobbing — sobbing. 

He had been invited to stay the night after visiting Feyre and baby Nyx. Exhausted and rather than make the trek back to Jurian and Vassa, Lucien stayed. He stayed knowing he was spending an evening with his mate avoiding him like the plague per usual. But it was alright. He tried not to hold it against her. He let her have her space.

When she excused herself after dinner, Lucien’s eyes followed her as she left the room but with a quiet sigh, he returned to his meal.

“You know she doesn’t actually dislike you, right?” Feyre said with a small wince. 

“I know.” Lucien replied, schooling his expression not to show his continuous disappointment. It needn’t be anyone else’s problem but his. “I’m pretty sure if she did, I wouldn’t be able to set foot in this house.”

“Now, now Lucien. You are a friend. You’re always welcome.” Rhys said then laughed when Lucien flipped him off.

“As mates, you both know exactly how well I can feel her emotions.” he said, his eyes on his plate. “I know she’s still going through things. So am I. We’ll eventually work through it.”

He didn’t bother to glance at Rhys or Feyre as he also excused himself. What Lucien didn’t add was even though they were both working through it, consistently being around her without properly talking to her left him in a constant state of agony.

But he’d dealt with worse. It would be fine. He’d had his eye carved out. He could handle Elain not wanting to talk to him until she was ready.

It was as Lucien started settling in for the evening that he sensed her distress. He was in his own rooms, upstairs, and on the other side of the house when a surge of emotion washed over him. The book in his hand immediately closed and he was on his feet and out the door before Lucien could stop himself. 

The bond had yanked him here, rooting him in front of her room staring and wondering what in the devil was causing her to be this upset. 

His face suddenly fell. Was it him being here? She had never reacted this badly to him. If this was how she really felt, he would free her from the bond right here, right now. He would never want to be with someone who fucken sobbed at the idea of being with him. He deserved better than that. So did she.

He’d reject the bond and his own psychological well-being be damned if it freed them both from the misery he was apparently causing her.

But then —

“I’m going to kill her.” 

And Lucien straightened at the venomous tone and words very clearly not about him.

Her door suddenly flew open and a rage like he’d never seen before was found on Elain’s tear-stricken face. 

“I’m going to kill her.”  she repeated and it was as though she hadn’t seen Lucien at all until he cleared his throat.

“I’m unsure who it is you’re referring to, but I would probably rethink your murder plan.” he said gently. “It won’t do much for your soul.”

Finally seeming to realize who stood before her, Elain immediately straightened with a sniffle and wiped at her tears hastily. He watched her in slight amusement as she wrapped her robe further around herself and with a final sniff, looked at him with a stoic expression.

“What are you doing here?”

Lucien pursed his lips at the clipped tone. “I sensed your extreme distress and wanted to make sure you were alright.” he replied dryly. “Seeing as you’re planning a murder, I guess you’re fine.”

Elain scoffed. “Fine. Of course, I’m fine.” she choked out and Lucien raised a brow. “When am I ever not fine?”

Lucien blinked. Interesting. This development was interesting. She was actually talking to him in full sentences. And being snarky.

He gave her a once-over. “We both know you’re not fine. Which is why you avoid me so much because I know the depth of that.”

Elain’s face flushed and her lips went into a thin line. “There’s no need to bring that up.”

“Yes, of course.” he replied immediately, a humorless chuckle escaping him. “Because that would mean you’d have to talk to me, and Cauldron forbid that happen.” 

Elain blinked at him, surprise flashing across her face as her flush deepened. Lucien’s own face heated at what he’d said but shaking his head and taking a deep breath, he forced down his contempt. He had been two minutes away from rejecting the bond for her. He had to leave her before he said something else that was stupid. 

Turning away from her slightly, he waved a hand. “Since you’re alright, I’ll take my leave then.” he said quietly. “Apologies for disturbing you.”

Lucien slowly walked away, clenching and unclenching his fists to calm his heart. He had almost reached the end of the hall when her voice called out to him.

“Do you read?”

He froze then turned to her slightly. 

She was still standing in her doorway, a book now clenched tightly in her hands and looking at him like — Lucien swallowed. He wouldn’t read into her expression.

Turning, he slowly made his way back to her, his hands in his pockets and when he was one bedroom door away, he stopped to keep a healthy distance between them. 

“Yes, I do. I enjoy reading.” he answered. “Do you?”

Elain looked down at the book in her hands and frowned, her lips trembling slightly. “Nesta was always the reader. I enjoyed reading here and there but…” she began and looked up at him. “Now that I seem to have forever to do things, I wanted to start reading more.”

The corner of his mouth ticked up. “Based on the emotional breakdown you were having, I would wager you didn’t enjoy that particular read.”

Elain watched him quietly and Lucien tried not to read into the whirlwind of emotions seeming to charge out of her, especially when her lips trembled again, and her eyes started watering.

“He dies!” she blurted in a wheeze. “Six books! I've been reading this series for six books and after everything they’ve been through!  Everything that has happened! They’re barely happy for two chapters and then he dies!”

Lucien blinked as she started crying. Or rather, tried not to cry as she sniffled and then sobbed. 

“Oh.” he said stupidly and as understanding washed over him, his lips twitched.

“What’s the point? What’s the point if they’re not happily together in the end?!” she continued, her rant clearly not over as she angrily wiped away tears still streaming. “I’ve been rooting for them for six books! His death has no meaning!”

“Was it an important character?” he asked and the fury in her eyes almost made him take a step back.

“He was one of the main characters and the main love interest!” she growled. “I have been waiting for them to have their happily ever after for six books!”

He prayed to whatever gods were listening that he didn’t laugh. 

“I see.” was all he could manage. “He was a favorite character of yours then?”

“He was the best.” she said with a small whine and quickly sniffled, glaring down at the book in question. “He was kind and loyal and he loved her so much! He was her perfect match.”

Lucien paused and the way she had said the words ‘perfect match’ erased his urge to laugh. Elain had clearly been committed to this fictional relationship. Should he...pat her on the back? It wasn’t like he could give her a hug. How does one mourn the loss of a fictional character?

“Well.” he finally said carefully. “The death was definitely done for shock value then.”

“Which is the stupidest reason to kill a character!” she snarled, and Lucien blinked rapidly, trying desperately not to let his amusement show. 

“I agree but I mostly read nonfiction, so this is an uncharted territory of investment for me.”

“Nonfiction?” Elain said with a blink then sniffled. “That seems so boring.”

Lucien’s ears heated. “Nonfiction books are the easiest way to educate yourself on things. There’s nothing boring about that.” he said defensively. “Funny enough, some would say gardening is boring and you’ve invested all your time in that.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, the look not really having the desired effect with the tear streaks on her face. “Don’t you go there.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Those gardening books you have count as nonfiction, you know.” he said with a snort and she squinted at him. 

“Fair point, I guess.” she mumbled, and he watched as she glared at the book clenched tightly in her hands again. A moment of tense silence passed then Elain added, “I hate this thing. If I find the author, I will kill them.”

“I’d offer to burn it for you, but it seems the emotional damage has already been done.” he said, a small smile finding its way to his face as Elain continued to glare at the book. “May I ask, who suggested this series to you?”

And Elain glanced up, tear-stricken face furious. “Nesta.”

“Ah. So that’s who you planned to murder then?”

“Yes.”

And Lucien really couldn’t stop his smile from widening in amusement. “Might I also ask, how do you plan to do that?” he asked and her gaze snapped to his. “I’m only asking so when they question me, I have an alibi ready.”

Elain sniffled, wiping at her face but a ghost of a smile tugged on her own lips. “People underestimate gardening tools, but they hurt if you know where to strike.”

Lucien’s brow went up and then a quiet laugh slipped from his lips. “Unexpected answer but seemingly very you.”

Elain looked down at the book in her hand again. “And how do you know what I am or not?” she asked quietly.

“I’m very observant.” 

A heartbeat of silence passed between them before Elain finally said, “Too observant.”

Lucien only shrugged, his heart going at an erratic rhythm. Their conversation had gone on longer than he had anticipated, and he didn’t want to do anything to risk spooking her. It was a strange dance between them. He wasn’t sure what tone it would take next.

But Elain surprised him once more. She frowned then without warning, stepped out of her doorway and whirled the book with all her might down the hall. It landed with a soft thud on the other side of the house. 

Lucien blinked, eyeing how much closer she stood to him now. 

“I’ll grab it tomorrow. I can’t stand it being in my room.” she mumbled, crossing her arms. “I’m going to beat Nesta over the head with it in the morning.”

Lucien’s lip twitched again. “I would support that plan as it would be a better one than murdering your own sister.”

Elain snorted. “After letting me get invested for six books only to have the main love interest die in the end?” she said, her eyes flashing. “She’s lucky I won’t.”

Lucien gave her a teasing smile. “As terrible as it is to say this, I’d pay good money to see you whack Nesta with a book.”

“I know she’s faster and stronger than me, but I’ll at least get one hit in.” she said, determination in her eyes. “The element of surprise will help.” 

“I’ll cheer you on.” he said with a chuckle. “But also have Madja on call just in case.” 

Elain looked at him curiously, a small smile on her face. “That doesn’t sound incredibly supportive.”

“If you’d like the fight to be fair, you’d probably need to train just a little.”

“I don’t want to be a fighter.” she snapped immediately, and Lucien’s brows shot up.

“I know.” he said simply. “Basic self-defense doesn’t require you to become a warrior.”

She glanced at him and her lips went into a thin line. “We’ve barely spoken in two years. How could you know that I don’t want to be a fighter when both of my sisters are? Why would I be different?”

“Because you are not your sisters. And again, I’m observant.” he replied curtly, and the familiar contempt flared up. “The only reason we haven’t spoken much in two years is because you don’t want to. I’ve respected that decision.”

The fight in her vanished at his response and instead, Elain shot him a slightly annoyed look. She crossed her arms again and the two stood there, in awkward silence. After a moment, she spoke.

“So what, you’d be willing to teach me basic self-defense?” she asked and Lucien quirked a brow.

“If that’s what you want, I’d be happy to do that.” he replied, crossing his own arms. 

Elain assessed him and Lucien allowed it. It had been a long time since she’d stood before him and actually looked him in the eye. 

But Elain ended up shaking her head and Lucien watched her expression shut down. “They’d just laugh at me if I suggested it.”

Lucien’s expression softened. “No one will laugh at you. I’m sure they’d love for you to learn to defend yourself.” 

But Elain shook her head again and sighed. “I can’t win. I’m mocked for wanting a quiet life and then shut down if I try to take chances.” she said quietly. 

Lucien’s hands dropped to his sides and his fists clenched. “I will tell you this once so please listen,” he began, and Elain’s brows furrowed. “You don’t need anyone’s permission to make changes to your life. You get to decide that and then just do it.”

Elain glanced at him. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

“Well, what do you want, Elain?” he asked and watched as her eyelids fluttered shut for a moment when her name slipped from his lips. His fists clenched again at his sides.

“What do I want?” she repeated, eyes still closed.

“Other than your favorite fictional character to have survived the series?” he said and smiled softly as a small smile emerged on her face.

“I want —” she began, eyes still closed, expression focused. “I want so many things.” 

“Like what?” he asked softly, taking the time to memorize every inch of her face. 

“I want to train a little. I want to travel. I want — I want to get to know you without everyone’s involvement.” she said quickly. “I want my choices to matter in everything.”

His heart started racing and when Elain opened her eyes, the flush in her cheeks matched Lucien’s, who could only stare at her with a barely managed intensity. 

It took Lucien a few moments to find his voice again. “I’m not going to coddle you.” he said firmly. “If there is something you want to do, you can do it. You don't need my support to do anything but you will have it.”

Elain took a breath, her eyes scanning his face. “Good.”

“Great.” he agreed, and he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Without everyone’s involvement huh?”

Elain flushed. “You’re a mystery to me and everyone has opinions. I’d like to form my own.” she said then quickly added. “With zero expectations between us. Whatever happens will happen.”

Lucien nodded slowly. “Whatever happens will happen.” he repeated then gave her a small smile. “As soon as you’re done mourning your loss, we can begin. My condolences by the way.”

With an eye roll, Elain huffed a small laugh. “Oh, shut up.” 

And Lucien smirked. “You’ll have to talk to me much more when we train, you are aware of that, yes?”

“Push your luck with your teasing, I dare you.” 

Lucien’s eyes gleamed at the challenge. “Don’t tempt me, I barely started.”

Elain fought back a smile then looked away from him with a sigh, curling a hair behind her ear, “For training,” she started, licking her lips. “Will...I need pants? Because I don’t have those.”

And every thought seemed to slip out of Lucien’s mind at the statement. The sheer innocence in it. The self-consciousness. She had no idea Lucien was barely holding on to his sanity as is. 

He swallowed. “I’m sure Feyre can help you buy some training pants.”

“No!” she said immediately then flushed at his expression. “I don’t want anyone asking questions.”

Lucien chuckled. “Buying pants is a very normal thing, Elain. You shouldn’t be this worried.”

She bit her lip and Lucien had to look anywhere else until she very quietly asked, “Will you go with me then?”

He blinked at her, then swallowed. “To — to buy pants?”

“You said we haven’t talked because I didn’t want to. I wasn’t ready.” she said and looked him in the eye. “I want to change that. Shopping allows some of the best conversations.”

He tilted his head, taking in the question and the challenge in her eyes. With a small smile, Lucien nodded. “Shopping it is.”

“Good. We can go tomorrow.”

“So demanding.”

“I’m making decisions.” she said with a firm nod, a small smile gracing her face.

“I can work with that.”

They watched each other for a few moments in silence before Elain finally looked away shyly again, making her way back to her bedroom door. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“See you tomorrow.” he confirmed with a nod. “I’ll even grab the book that shall not be named and hang on to it for safekeeping for you.”

Elain laughed softly. “Thank you.” she said then added quietly, “And thank you for checking on me. Even when you didn’t have to.”

He waved her off with a good-natured smile. “I was only following my instincts. It brought me to the right place.”

It brought me to you, is what he wanted to say but held back. They balanced a delicate line and Lucien didn’t want to burden her. But the small smile on Elain’s face as she waved goodnight and gently closed her bedroom door gave him the impression she heard it anyway.

Feeling lighter than he had in quite some time, Lucien made his way back to his room, stopping only to pick up the now-cursed book and taking it back with him. Closing his bedroom door behind him and leaning against it, Lucien realized then, he only had a few hours to mentally prepare himself to see Elain in pants for the first time.

Gods above, he was barely going to survive it. 

[dreamlogic]

[ebenelephant]

Thinking about when 'A Little Life' drama was all over everywhere, and while there definitely are valid critiques to be made, a lot of booktubers were talking about how people were confusing a book invoking a strong emotional response with it actually being good art. And it's just... what do you think the point of art is? These bound pieces of paper reduced people to aching ugly tears; it did it's job. We can argue day and night about problematic messages and unbelievable premises, but at the end of the day literature that can inspire debate and controversy and above all else emotion in the masses is an undeniably great piece of art. That doesn't mean you need to like it.

[autistic-katara]

can’t wait until i go to therapy in 10 years and they do the big reveal abt what specific mental illness(es) i have cause it’s pretty ambiguous atm

[femme-dor]

Emotional regulation is a very important & necessary skill to practice for growth, handling difficult situations/ people/ interactions, and better protecting your own peace. It’s often hard to stop & assess your feelings before acting, especially when you’ve endured certain traumas or spent too much time on the internet where it’s easy to get upset over basic misunderstandings, but once you make the effort & remain consistent, you’ll see how fast your life & approach to future encounters improves for the better.

[pseud0knots]

I think I mentioned this before but we had to do these personality assessments at work (mbti but extra steps) and mine is like you have asshole disorder you’re mean and bossy and cold and distant and you hate it when other people have ideas because you think you’re always right. okay this is an exaggeration and there is positive stuff but all the things I scored high in are colored red and I’m apparently “the dominator” which. lol . Well anyways today we had to do a team building activity about it where everybody had to talk about their assessments and I don’t know how I’m supposed to talk to anyone ever again I feel so incredibly analyzed and diagnosed with problems and I know I have a difficult personality but like is there not room for me in the world in society or

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

the jump from writing I'm Your Man to writing Better Off is so funny to me like... if you thought the build-up to Frankie and Rosie was painful you might need to sit this one out because I have created the most uncommunicative awkward couple of all time and it is actually decaying my brain as we speak