#like it’s all about childlike wonder

[turtlegirlave]

I did not ASK this episodic kids show to remind me about how growing apart is a part of growing up and how sometimes you have to keep your memories but say goodbye to the people you made them with because friendships don’t really last forever but it’s not sad it’s just reality and I’m feeling REALLY SAD ABOUT IT

[chloesimaginationthings]

I love the idea that Michael is always gloomy and low-energy with a bit of snark but the mere IDEA of Foxy turns him into the most easily excitable person on the planet

YES, but I also extent that to every animatronic he really likes!!

[shiraoyagi]

hot take ??

the only reason people say that "mafuyu and tsukasa have nothing in common" when presented with mafukasa parallels is because they equate mafuyu and tsukasa being similar to "tsukasa has depression" because the fandom equates mafuyu's personality to being depressed and nothing else.

it doesn't help that people (primarily younger people in the fandom) who DO believe in mafukasa parallels end up making the mistake of portraying tsukasa as depressed because as of right now he is not (although it's possible he was in past because of his Very Unclear Middle School Backstory but that's irrelevant)

anyways, mafuyu and tsukasa are narrative foils because their core personalities are built off of the concept of wanting to make the people around them— especially their families— happy.

they both developed personalities at a young age based on someone they looked up to. for tsukasa, it was seiichi amami's performance that inspired him to be a star— a hero that could cheer anyone up. for mafuyu, it was her mother taking care of her that inspired her to be a nurse— and you can see the similarities from there.

for mafuyu, her identity would first come into conflict when her mother expressed her want for mafuyu to be a doctor— suddenly, "everyone's" happiness didn't match what she wanted to do, leaving her in a state of disorder and eventual depression.

for tsukasa, his identity was something he nearly forgot in its entirety at the start of the main story— becoming arrogant and fully absorbed in a hero persona, forgetting the kind person he truly is. furthermore, his current character arc seems to be foreshadowing that what "being a star" to him is going to be called into question— maybe it is something more than just being the main character that saves everyone.

their insecurities are incredibly similar.

in mafuyu's first mixed, mafuyu feels insecure towards ichika because unlike ichika, she feels as if her lyrics have no genuine meaning to be expressed to other people— despite them being her very real feelings. this is brought up again in her second mixed as well.

in tsukasa's third focus event, something similar happens. when watching seiichi's performance, he thinks that his acting is "real" and feels inferior towards him, which is ironic because tsukasa has been method acting this whole time. when tsukasa is acting out rio or bartlett or really anyone at this point in the story, it's not just those characters— it's a reflection of his traumas.

just like mafuyu, tsukasa undermines his passions he's poured his feelings into because someone else's work is more genuine in his eyes.

now, then, foils have many similarities and parallels (and i could honestly list a lot more), but how i define them is that they usually have some kind of major branching difference that MAKES them foils.

for mafuyu and tsukasa it's pretty straightforward.

mafuyu's people pleasing behavior comes from external expectations and pressures— her mother's demands.

tsukasa's people pleasing behavior comes internally, from himself— if he can't meet his own standards, if he can't be the perfect big brother or the perfect star, then he is nothing.

and even then, there's some overlap.

tsukasa's behavior was indirectly encouraged by his mother praising him for being a "good big brother" over the phone instead of asking him if he was okay while home alone.

mafuyu's terrified to be herself around other people because she doesn't want to worry or bother them— she doesn't want to be a burden— and projects her mother's expectations onto them, not realizing that they would prefer the real mafuyu if they knew the truth.

and the concept of mafukasa being foils is most perfectly and blatantly portrayed in these two cards.

mafuyu, the marionette, sitting limp on the floor— puppeteered by her mother's demands and donning a mask to hide her true self.

tsukasa, the jester, standing above everything else— puppeteering silenced plushies— his feelings. he's not being completely honest with himself, and he doesn't even realize it.

mafuyu has cut her strings and ripped her mask in half. she has acknowledged her true feelings and expressed them to her mother, even if she had to run away in the end.

tsukasa has not yet cut his.

[voilaammayi]

John Watson saying you join me and my companion/colleague/friend/flat mate while the only thing I can think of is oh please cut the bullshit.

Companion is already the gayest word in existence and yet you want to salvage yourself by flat mate in a desperate try of not using roommate which is actually nothing more than just the second gayest word in existence and you and I both know it.

Who do you think you’re fooling John, my beloved sweet summer child, only yourself I’m afraid.

[the-moogle-of-your-nightmares]

one thing i really deeply wish is that i'd had access as a kid to the plural community and information that are more easily available today, instead of my first experience with plural community which both took it seriously and was nonjudgmental having been 10's era tul/pa.info lmao

[thatscarletflycatcher]

Pro tip: if you are going to lie to your children about Santa Claus, please, BEFORE you do that, think if you have the guts to come clean to them when the time comes.

[righteousdelusions]

i really just play whatever jasjdha

currently playing good stuff tho if i say so myself:

[seekingthestars]

@it-begins-with-rain replied to your post “little floof has the best possible time at con,...”:

I'm so incredibly happy for you!!!!! I love how loved you are at that con, and it's absolutely the amount of loved you should be!!!! You are such a wonderful and kind and shining soul, and everyone can see it and everyone looks forward to it every single year! And your Flower Eevee is perfection itself and I'm so happy you managed to get the flowers done in time because they're PERFECT!!!!!!!! Just absolutely perfect!!! I'm so happy you had a few days to find yourself again and decompress after the shitshow that has been the last year, and i wish con was an entire week long for you to just bask in complete and utter blissful fun and recharge!

​SOBBING THANK U 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

i frequently feel like i'm Too Much at con sometimes, like my favorite guests would get annoyed at seeing me so much at all their panels/autograph sessions and asking for pics and stuff, but then they do things like call to me BY NAME in the hallways when i'm not even paying attention and haven't noticed them just to actually get me to notice them and say hi back, or ask me if i'm coming to their next show after each one that i go to, or share my ig posts to their stories thanking me BY NAME AGAIN for coming and specifically saying they were glad to see me again and i just cry and melt inside bc they are genuinely the sweetest they could possibly be to me and they certainly don't have to be but they ARE and it makes me feel SO warm 😭😭😭😭

ALSO THANK U FOR KIND WORDS ABOUT FLOWERY EEVEEEEE <3 so many people stopped me at con to tell me my dress was beautiful and so many people asked about it after they took pics and everyone was so impressed when i said i'd hand sewn them all on and said they looked like they were originally part of the dress which tbh is the highest compliment to me, thank u random con goers ilu so much

I ALSO WISH CON WAS AN ENTIRE WEEK LONG SO I COULD JUST BASK IN COMPLETE AND UTTER BLISSFUL FUN bc that's what con is for me every time and i need it fjeiaowfwae i at least sorta wish i'd somehow taken this entire week off after con LOL but the memories are good, the memories and the pictures will help take the edge off going back to work <3

[claitea]

i played bw and bw2 a Decade ago so ofc i've forgotten a lot of details. one thing i forgot till last night was that n's encounter theme changes to something so much happier and whimsical in 2 and i am. dying about it

[arianwells]

Hm, maybe if people had been actually diagnosed and treated in the ussr, maybe things would have been different now

[bumblingbeezzz]

Yeah unfortunately "autistic" IS now what many awful people use to mean "irredeemable failure"/"stupid"/"weird"/"unapproachable"/"socially inept" nowadays. So even that may not help.

Especially sucks when you see neurotypical people adopting the more positive traits associated w autism and then bully you for actually being on the spectrum and making you feel like “well if they can act the same way I do minus the bad stuff ig I really am useless and not special at all really” so then "poof!" your silver lining is gone too.

Not telling your kid they have a learning disability, chronic illness, mental illness etc. so they can “feel normal” actually does the opposite. They will not feel normal if they do not have the context to understand that their normal will be different from that of their peers.

[emotargaryen]

the irony of people on this website being hostile about children and admitting to showing actual disdain towards them to their little faces in real life, then being like "well i had a shitty childhood yadda ya" like okay why is having beef with a 4 year old okay when you do it?

[naniwagusto]

Writing is the 13th labor of Hercules so instead I repeat myself over and over again because I have one thought ever all the time

Asuka's contradiction in wanting the safety of her own controlled space versus her drive to chase battle to feel alive is so good and so Mishima at the same time. Those two aspects to me are genuinely all she wants in life. I can keep talking about the desire for control and the insecurities and the difficulty of emotion as much as I already have, but at the core I don't think Asuka wants anything more than her own freedom. She doesn't ever express interest in anything unless it can relate to her too yes, but she also doesn't want a 'future' as people might understand it. She always lives facing only what's directly in front of her, never running. She doesn't want a 'future', she wants to exist. Existing exactly as she always has, or as she has always liked.

The freedom tied to her portrayals since she was introduced is her goal; and part of her frustration in having the different games meddle in her life and being given the idea she should be something greater because of people she doesn't know or particularly care about, is because getting pulled down by whatever she wouldn't choose for herself is a temporary loss of that freedom. Any kind of thinking that involves a plan or upheaval or some kind of structure different from her personal structure in her own head is a shackle on her free desire. She feels almost hedonist. Asuka's personal sense of order as insular as it is is her freedom, anyone else imposing theirs on her is tyranny.

So I don't see anything wrong in viewing her with her only goal in life chasing her own pleasure, living purely off her own instincts. It's her simple nature driven only by itself that makes her such a force in the first place. She will be free, and freedom is only in taking life as it comes in her own way. The real issue of accepting her identity is accepting her flaws and reality of her darker instincts instead of being blind to them. I don't think being Kazama has anything to do with that beyond something that can inform how much she wants to push or pull against it, and the way she acts it seems like she'll push back anything that isn't the way she was shown.

[abductedlawnchair]

This is how it felt falling in love with my wife. I've always been a lover of picturesque views and looking at the whole big picture of the environment around me. I was always filled with so much joy and wonder about them.

Then, one day, I decide to take this girl I have a crush on to a place I think is beautiful. I'm excited to show her this beautiful environment. I want to show her all the cool spots. But then, she starts flipping over logs and rocks and poking the moss, filled with just as much wonder as I am with the big things. For the first time in my life, I truly slow down to look at and appreciate the little details in a way I never had before.

She opened up a whole new vastness to the world that I never even thought to look at. At least, not in that way. My world is bigger and filled with far more love and wonder with her in it, sharing her perspective with me.

Original

[bklynsboys]

The Theory on Other Halves

pairing: spencer reid x reader summary: "there's an old buddhist saying, i once read, that when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making." genre: fluff word count: 1k author's notes: i wrote this because this particular line of spencer's is one of my absolute favorites! i think it's really beautiful how all of the people we love were meant to be in our lives since 500 years ago. and of course, as a fan of space & constellations, i had to insert it into this fic. enjoy <3

THE AIR HUNG HEAVY WITH THE AFTERMATH OF A PARTICULARLY BRUTAL CASE—TYPICAL FOR A DAY IN THE BAU. Dust specks danced in the pale slivers of moonlight filtering through the blinds. Hotch decided it'd be best to give the team a few hours to rest in the motel before heading back home. If it were up to you, you'd be back in your bed as soon as humanly possible, but rooming with the resident genius, Dr. Spencer Reid—the object of your unspoken affections—is an opportunity you wouldn't miss.

For months, the two of you have shared a silent dance of exchanged glances and shared interests. Your colleagues, particularly the girls whom you confided in, seemed to think it was mutual. Now, you sat across from each other on motel beds, a comfortable silence blanketing the room. You traced a thoughtful finger along the rim of your empty coffee cup.

"You have a constellation," he said softly, breaking the stillness.

Your gaze flicked to Spencer, then down to your arm where his hand had landed. A faint scattering of moles dotted the inside of your forearm, resembling a modicum of stars. A small smile tugged at your lips.

"Looks like Ursa Major," he mused, tracing the pattern with his finger. "Though perhaps a little worse for wear, and without the usual bright light, of course."

You chuckled, mirroring his action on your arm. There, nestled just below your elbow, was a crescent moon birthmark, a surprise you always enjoyed revealing.

"Here's another one," you offered.

He turned his hand, examining the crescent with a childlike curiosity. " It's beautiful," he said simply.

"Did you know," Spencer added softly, his voice barely a murmur, "that the ancient Greek saw Ursa Major as a bear?"

You tilted your head, surprised by the random fact. " A bear?"

A smile played on his lip. " Apparently, the constellation's asterism resembled the animal to them. Makes you wonder what they saw in the night sky that we don't."

"Well, my mom had a different take on that," you began, a fond memory surfacing. " She used to say my moon and stars meant I'd meet a space nerd someday who'd love these marks, and we'd be orbiting each other, kind of like the Earth and the sun. She was into soulmates, you see, and space."

The conversation flowed easily, a map of your bodies sketched through shared stories. You pointed to a jagged scar on your knee, the fading memory of you running around and ending up with a scrape on your knee. He, in turn, showed you the faint line on his palm, a souvenir from a particularly enthusiastic attempt at a science experiment as a child.

Your fingers trailed down the faint scar near his hairline, so faint one wouldn't notice it if they weren't looking at Spencer's face intently. "What's this from?" you asked gently.

Spencer chuckled. " You know, how I have really bad coordination?" He sighed. " I was lost in a book, I ran straight into a doorpost. My mom called me 'Crash' after that."

You squeezed his hand gently, a silent understanding passing between you. You knew how much Spencer cherished his mom, especially with her health declining. Sharing stories about her felt like a tender offering of his vulnerability.

He returned the gesture, his thumb tracing the faint outline of a mango-shaped birthmark on your back. " My mom swears it's from all the mangoes she craved while pregnant," you said with a laugh, remembering your childhood debates about the science behind birthmarks.

As the night wore on, your exploration became a conversation without words. You ended up curled up on one bed. You ran your fingers over the slight dip in his lower back, a lingering ache from a wrestling match between an unsub gone wrong. He skimmed his thumb across the freckle dusting your shoulder, a map of sun-drenched summer days.

There was no urgency, no pressure. Just a quiet appreciation for the way your bodies, like your minds, fit together, like puzzle pieces worn from being fitted together—entangled from experiences, both big and small. In the faint intimacy, you found a deeper connection, a comfort that transcended beyond just physical.

Suddenly, Spencer spoke, his voice soft. " Maybe your mom was right, you know."

"Right about what?" You murmured, head tilting at the man's question.

His gaze met yours, a thoughtful crease furrowing his brow. " About finding your soulmate," he said hesitantly. " There's an old Buddhist saying, I once read, that when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making."

A thoughtful hum escaped your lips. " That's beautiful, Spencer," you whispered.

He continued, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, "Plato once wrote humans used to have four arms, four legs, and two faces, but Zeus split us in half as a punishment for our pride, and we were destined to walk the Earth searching for our other half."

A soft blush crept up your neck. You hadn't expected such a personal turn in the conversation.

"Plato," you murmured, surprised." The one who wasn't a big fan of the soulmate idea, right?"

Spencer's lips curved into a small smile.

"True," he admitted. "But even a brilliant mind like his couldn't deny the undeniable pull we sometimes feel towards certain people. Maybe the Greeks weren't so far off . Maybe the stars, the constellations, these little imperfections on our skin... Maybe they all tell us a story of where we belong."

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. You found yourself captivated by the way the moonlight glinted in his eyes.

"So," you finally spoke, your voice barely a whisper, "are you saying we're destined to be wandering halves searching for the other?"

Spencer shook his head slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. "No," he said, his voice a smooth cadence. " Maybe... Maybe we already found each other."

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken sentiments. The air crackled with a tension that both terrified and exhilarated you. Your heart hammered against your ribs, a frantic drumbeat to the quiet reverberation of the night. Curled beside him, Spencer's arm draped casually across you, its weight a comforting presence, you drifted off to sleep.

A faint smile touched Spencer's lips as he listened to your soft snores. "Good night," he whispered into the darkness.

[princessbrunette]

so i know i always say that rafe is strictly a girl dad. well, he is. but sometimes i like to humour myself with the universe where he’s the father to the sweetest little boy ever.

the universe would be ironic like that. rafe foolishly knocked you up when he was 22 — the boy still having alot to learn. he was still walking around with that pistol tucked into his waistband, fighting pogues, mouthing off and going on coke rants. you had been terrified, wondering what kind of a father rafe was going to be — even when he promised time and time again, “i’m — i’m getting my shit together alright? i can, hey — we can do this? okay?” with sweat gathered at his hairline and tears in his eyes. thus, when the universe decided to play the hilarious prank which was having the doctor tell you ‘its a boy!’, your first thought was ‘shit.’

because he was bound to be just like rafe, right?

you had seemingly prophetic visions, a spoiled little brat — just like his father was, thundering around in a brightly coloured ralph lauren polo from the baby range, demanding the teet when he saw fit. a girl would have been fine — you’d seen wheezie grow up around rafe and turn out totally fine (aside from the likely trauma.) but a boy? what did rafe cameron know about raising a boy? was your son next up to become a drug slinging, pogue hating, maniac? (with no offence to rafe of course, you were unfortunately very much in love with him but contrary to popular belief that did not disrupt your common sense.)

rafe was over the moon about you being pregnant with a boy too, which did little to comfort you.

the anxiety subsided the second that baby was out of you, his sticky, slimy little body placed onto your chest with rafe crowding your space — his bravado dropped for a second to reveal a childlike awe. his own baby. you could tell it was only now that things became very real for rafe. his eyes well up, covering his shaky grin with an even shakier hand, saying stuff like “shit, oh uh nah i probably shouldn’t cuss infront of the baby anymore right? yeah… my god, you did it baby. brought me my boy. should be so god damn proud.” he croons as his hands dig affectionately into your sore shoulders, smearing a kiss to your sweaty temple. “ahh, aha — what the hell kinda man am i cryin’ at this huh? shit.” he sniffles as he wipes his eyes but you’re not listening. you’re staring at your perfect boy.

he grows into something perfectly reminiscent of both you and rafe’s features, all whilst smushed into the cutest baby you’ve ever seen. you were aware every parent said that about their child, but no — you were certain. he was pampers commercial level cute. ‘top ten cutest babies’ buzzfeed article level cute. sarah would often hold him to her chest and something would be healed as she’d whisper “i can’t believe you came from my brother.” into his wispy hair. he was a true blessing.

with big doe eyes that took up half his face and an appearance that somehow replicated a baby lamb that had been turned into a human on the basis of a magical spell — you had long forgotten about your worries regarding having a boy.

a few years down the line and not much has changed. your baby boy is three years old, chubby fists clutching his empty plastic lightening mcqueen plate as he toddles out onto the porch where rafe sits spread out opposite barry, sipping on a can of beer in the early evening. your son is distracted by a decorative plant, and the two men pay him no mind as they continue talk.

“but — but that’s the thing, right, barry? i dont do that shit anymore and… and i sure as hell am not looking to start again.”

“man i get that rafe you a father now, all serious and shit but think about the money. you thinkin’ with your husband head and not with your cameron head. your daddy was a piece of shit but he had that business mindset that you gotta adopt, bro.”

rafe’s expression flattens, finishing his can before leaning forward onto his elbows. “well uh, newsflash — i don’t wanna be anything like my dad. now if we’re done here…” rafes attention is caught by the mini him waddling into view, holding his plate infront of him.

“more please?” comes the sweetest voice in the world, blinking up at the man he viewed as his entire universe, much like you at times.

“finished your icecream already huh? where’s your mom?” he cranes round, but doesn’t bother searching much further when he hears the padding of your footsteps.

“aye buddy, you know we was just talkin’ about you.” barry leans forward with a smarmy grin and your son gets shy, lifting his shoulders practically to his ears and looking down, glueing himself to rafes leg.

“conversations done, actually.” rafe reminds him, lifting the boy to sit on his hip as he hoists himself to stand. as he does so, you appear in the doorway to the patio— sundress clad belly swollen with another baby.

“rafe could you bring him in? it’s too hot out there for him without his hat.” you furrow your eyebrows, deciding to ignore barry’s presence all together, which of course doesn’t stop him from conversing.

“shit, i ain’t seen you in a while mama. he got you again? you two stay busy, huh?” rafes oldest ‘friend’ chuckles, gold tooth glinting in the sun light, and like your only child — you shy away, sending rafe a parting glance that said ‘just hurry up and rid of him.’

rafe adjusts the baby boy on his hip, now staring down at barry.

“talk to my girl again n’i���ll bring out the old me alright, you don’t want that. go do somethin’ barry, i don’t care what it is just get off my goddamn property yeah?” rafe drawls tiredly, crushing the can in his hand and dropping it carelessly into the wastebin beside barry before heading inside, your son turning to stare sweetly at the dark haired man over his dads shoulder, offering a sticky, wide fingered salute in parting.

atleast rafe was still his usual charming self, son or not.