#Youthful innocence

[recsspecs]

[fredbsmith]

The Backyard Trellis

Memoir

It was the summer of my fourth year.  My mother, younger sister and I had recently moved from Louisville to Chicago and we were staying with my maternal grandmother in her walk-up apartment on the south side of the city.  It was not far from Midway Airport.  I used to see the airport searchlights sweeping the night sky from the window by my bed as I drifted off to sleep.  My parents had separated during the war and were eventually to divorce, and my father was at that time living in another part of the country.

My mother took me with her to visit a college friend of hers, Gert Silverman, shortly after we moved in with my grandmother.  Gert and her husband Nate had bought a house in the south Chicago suburbs.  This was the first of many times I was taken to the Silvermans’ over the course of my childhood.  Even after my mother moved us to the West, the occasional trip back to Chicago always included a visit to see Gert and Nate.  I used to look forward to these visits.  Gert and Nate loved being visited by children, and they were among the few grown-ups who wanted my sister and me to call them by their first names.  Their house had an expansive back lawn that bordered on a commuter rail line.  As an older child, I would interrupt my running about the yard to wave to the engineers of the many passing trains and they would usually wave back.

For this, the first of my visits to the Silvermans, my mother felt it necessary to coach me in advance regarding my behavior.  She told me that Gert and Nate had a son named Bobby who was the same age as I.  Of course, it was expected that Bobby and I would play together while we were there, but I had to understand something important about Bobby.  He was a boy and he was my age but he was very different from me.  He could not run or climb on things, which my mother knew were my favorite play activities.  Bobby and I could only “play quietly” while we were together.

When we arrived, I was immediately intimidated by Bobby.  My mother had told me he was quite different from me, but I had not imagined his appearance would be so strange.  He was similar in size and shape to me, but his skin was a bizarre mottled mixture of white and blue that was unlike that of any person I had ever seen.

I dutifully followed my mother, Gert, and Bobby to the back yard and sat down in the shady area Gert pointed out to me.  She had Bobby sit a few feet away.  Then both mothers retreated indoors, to the living room.

Bobby and I sat together silently for a while.  I surveyed the yard, which at first appeared totally lacking in play equipment.   Then I spied something at the perimeter that interested me greatly.  I initially took it to be a set of climbing bars, a “Jungle Gym” that was a familiar feature in play parks near my home.  When I got near it, I realized it was something else, too flimsy to have been constructed for children’s play.  It was not securely anchored to the ground nor to the fence against which it rested.  It was, in fact, a trellis, although there were no plants growing on it.  Nonetheless, it invited climbing, and I could not resist.

The trellis flexed under my weight, but it stayed upright as I neared the top.  Then I felt it move below me and I looked down.  To my amazement, there was Bobby, who was following me, imitating my movements and climbing the trellis, and he was already past the first rungs.  And he had, for the first time that afternoon, a broad smile on his face!

Bobby’s smile warmed my heart.  The distance between us had suddenly vanished.  And I felt I had just experienced an epiphany.  Bobby and I really weren’t that different after all.  My mother had been flat-out wrong when she told me that Bobby couldn’t climb.  Of course he could climb, I had just seen him do it with my own eyes!  So I imagined that I had just made an important discovery, uncovered an ability Bobby had that Gert and my mother hadn’t known about, and that they would thank me for finding it.

My mother, who must have been observing the back yard through a window, came storming out of the back door of the house, shouting my name, and scolding me, “Didn’t I tell you that Bobby couldn’t climb, and you led him to do it anyway!”

We left shortly afterward, amid my mother’s profuse apologies for my behavior, with my own mind in a state of confusion.  I don’t know how long it took me to understand that when my mother had said Bobby can’t climb, she had meant he was not permitted to climb, that it might overly burden his poor little heart, not that he lacked the ability to do so. 

I was stung by the ferocity of the scolding I had just received, by what seemed to me the injustice of being chastened for doing a seeming good deed, initiating a bond of friendship with another child.

I never saw Bobby again.  This was a time before there were heart bypass machines, before cardiac surgery had developed ways to correct the effects of cyanotic congenital heart disease, and there was no hope back then for his survival.  Gert and Nate had no more children.  When we visited them in later years, their many years of childlessness after Bobby had died, we never spoke of him.

Now, in the autumn of my life, having experienced parenthood myself, and the loss of various loved ones over the years, I can only dimly imagine what it would be like to give birth to a child, and to nurture that child through infancy, knowing all the time that that child’s death is imminent and inevitable.  Yet that’s what Gert and Nate were going through back then. 

It occurs to me now, that the adults in the story – Gert, Nate, and my mother – were scarcely beyond childhood themselves when these events unfolded.  Specifically, they were in their late twenties, much younger than my own children are now, possessed of the youthful energy required for the rigors of toddler care, but barely equipped to deal with the profundities of sorrow, suffering and death that normally are a part of later life.

I can’t help but wonder if my unknowing presence on that visit, rowdy and animated as I was and in stark contrast to Bobby’s frailty, made Gert’s sorrow more acute.

On another occasion, years later, I overheard my mother relate a conversation she had had with Gert when she visited her in the maternity ward shortly after Bobby was born and his terrible anomaly had become apparent.  Gert asked my mother if she thought Bobby’s affliction could have been a punishment from God for her having married and conceived a child with a man who was a Jew. 

The memory of my afternoon with Bobby never leaves me before I ask myself whether my enticing Bobby to climb the trellis caused him significant injury.  Did my burst of infectious, naïve rambunctiousness lead him to overtax his frail body and, as a result, shave hours or days from the short lifetime that had been allotted to him?  Even with the benefit of a medical education, I find this impossible to answer. 

If there is ever a time or place where I am held to account for this particular impulsive act, I hope that it will be reckoned that the same costly event also brought Bobby a moment of joy, a moment revealed by the broad smile he showed me as he was climbing. 

[patrickelvinart]

Youth and innocence

pencil drawing

Culver City 1977

This is an old one. 1977.

I can still remember drawing it. I was living at the time, with someone special, in an apartment in Culver City, with a big double bed. When she came home that night she loved it.

I stlll have this drawing tucked away in one of my drawers.

And I still have my memories tucked away in my mind.

.

.

[alicentalicent]

in episode 1x06 we see how alicent interacts with each of her children, considering that she shows her affection with touch.

she touches helaena's arm, which openly displeases helaena.

in the same scene she hugs aemond, and he sinks into it. (i like that both moments happen in the same scene, with the two children she's affectionate with)

then we have aegon, the child she does not give affection to, but rather grabs his face harshly.

she then realizes she lost control a bit and was too harsh, even if it was to protect him and make him understand what's at stake, and she brushes his hair, trying to soothe the hurt she already inflicted.

it does not work.

[shootingstareon]

and in that dying summer heat, you took my hand and smiled

separate and blur/textless version!

[katerinaaqu]

Fanon Odysseus: Shorty, skinny, devious little cat Canon Odysseus: Average to short, thunder thighs, wide chest and shoulders, well built arms, intelligent devious cat

*

Fanon Telemachus: Tiny, short, teenager-looking skinny, shiny little thing with happy puppy eyes Canon Telemachus: Menelaus: His arms and legs and the look of his eyes are the same as Odysseus! (also 20 years old!)

[diioonysus]

"And if you're still bleeding you're the lucky ones cause most of our feelings they are dead and they are gone."

[rosencatholic]

Some Harry Potter fans excuse Tom Riddle and love and defend him but draw the line at Severus Snape? Yeah okay.

[vindicated-truth]

This is the age-accurate version of Han Joowon that Dongsik would’ve met and I genuinely believe Dongsik wouldn’t have been able to resist for that long because look at him

[cervinae-canine]

I should clarify that having preferences over certain kinds of women isn't a sin and that's not inherently a bad thing. It's fine but maybe don't describe smaller women as "adorably smol", or else I'll feel sick.

[recsspecs]

[strawberrytallcakee]

Lost Memories

When I was five, my best friend was my shadow. She made me yearn for the sunshine. When my eyelids hurt from the fresh morning light and dust fairies shimmered in its beams, I was grateful to see my shadow. A reflection—the reciprocation of a substance of light, warmth, or whisper without it being absorbed. It wasn’t vanity as to why I loved mirrors, but the concept that the windows to my soul were able to be observed through themselves and believed by my mind. I can see my own pupils, freckles, and giggle lines. Every memory etched on my body. I could perceive myself through the perspective of another. Whether I saw rage, beauty, loneliness, or fear. It was all of me and none of me reflected all at once. A beautiful blend of fantasy and reality fused into one. She never judged me for how deep I saw and felt things or the beauty I saw that others couldn’t even begin to ponder. She wouldn’t get tired of me and stray away. I trusted my shadow and welcomed her to sow seeds of entrancement into my young spirit. She wasn’t imaginary; I could photograph and grace others with her presence. She was existent, but not tangible. She was my outline, but not my detail. She was me, but not myself. So no matter how big I could make her, or wings I gave her so she could fly with a simple trick of light. Just like all good things, she would eventually vanish in time. When it was brisk and quiet and fear crept up my spine with the moon and tides, my best friend, my shadow, wasn’t there to hold me in the night. Even though I am no longer five, I still have a fear of the dark and love for the light. Just like my shadow, I am and I am not. Your perception or my true form; yet similar, but never alike. For how long has it been since we’ve acknowledged our shadow?

[justablix]

JD Payne: "the innocence and optimism of elrond"

The Elrond whose parents were attacked presumed dead when he was small, who was kidnapped, who grew up loved and loving but in a warzone, who watched his foster father(s) likewise be lost to violence and despair and sorrow, who was forced to choose to be forever parted from his twin brother, the only constant in his life? Who watched his twin die, and his nephews and nieces, and their kin slowly be corrupted? Who had to watch Beleriand sink, the only homes he ever knew destroyed twice over? Who lost more mortal friends than he could count, to war and to old age? That Elrond? That's the Elrond you are talking about? His innocence? He loses his innocence during season 2 of rings of power? His what?

[thedelicatearcher]

Could you do a katniss x hyper fem!reader where both katniss and reader are kids and katniss is trying impressive the reader by climbing a tree or something?

Take your time ^^

thank you for the request!! this is soooo sweet. i really loved writing this, i love katniss so much

young!katniss everdeen x hyper fem!reader

katniss everdeen spends most of her time with her dad in the woods, learning to hunt, climbing some trees, and setting some traps here and there. from little birds and squirrels to the extremely rare deer, the father and daughter duo pride themselves on never returning home empty-handed.

you could say the woods are little katniss' happy place, a spot where she feels she isn't being observed, free from judgment, able to unashamedly be herself alongside someone she really loves. she doesn't mind that they have to be really quiet and sneaky to go down the unelectrified fence, being alert and walking many miles. these small sacrifices are worth it for the chance to swim her worries away in the hidden lake, savoring the cool embrace of water on her skin

but when she's not there, you can find her daydreaming about her beautiful best friend. the way you look at katniss, as if there's no one else in the world when she's recounting yesterday's adventure. the way your pink dresses make your lips stand out even more, leaving poor katniss speechless and unable to form a thought. the way you cherish your bows, yet don't hesitate to adorn katniss’ braid with your favorite one, because it makes her look “more beautiful than a garden full of roses,'' - your words, not hers.

katniss would love to take you to the woods with her and her dad, but she is afraid you're going to say no. “she's too pretty and i can't have her getting her little bows and dresses dirty like my clothes,” was the excuse katniss gave herself when deep down she knew the real reason was that she's afraid of your rejection. with an angst-clouded mind, she told herself she couldn't bear it if you ever got a hold of her feelings and decided you wouldn't want anything to do with her anymore.

“i'm not in love with her, i just really love spending time with her but that's what friends do,” katniss would say to madge, one of her only friends, denying her feelings as she felt herself getting shy and flustered, hoping her close friend wouldn't notice the enormous crush she had been harboring on you. “do you like spending as much time with me as with her?” madge would tease her playfully as katniss felt her whole face burn in embarrassment. 

every morning after waking up, as she is eating breakfast, nonstop thoughts about you would fill her mind. “will she smile at me today? will she grab my hand? is there something i can do to impress her?” were questions katniss hoped her tiny piece of bread could answer, saving her roasted squirrel to eat in school later and share it with you. 

katniss got very giddy and excited as her mom put her hair in her signature braid, praying to the gods that maybe today will be the day where you see her in another light. and maybe they finally listened to her.

as soon as you saw her in school, you ran to her excitedly, leaving your backpack behind and grinning like a mad man. you hugged her like a koala bear, letting katniss spin you around for a few seconds and holding you tighter as this was the first time you saw each other in years. this was your daily ritual: hugging like a married couple when katniss arrived at school, sitting together in every class possible, talking in hushes as your teacher explained another chemistry topic that you won't apply anywhere if you don’t go on and work in the mine, sharing food at lunchtime, hanging out during recess usually sitting closely together on a free bench or having katniss running around and tiring her little full-of-energy self as you watched her attentively, and finally walking home together to your respective houses. you were inseparable.

but today was different, you were holding eye contact longer, occasionally batting your eyelashes at her and twirling a strand of your hair with a finger. and of course, katniss noticed this, clouding her mind with the thought of you reciprocating her feelings, feeling excited and anxious at the same time. she has always considered herself bad with words, unable to express her feelings, so how can she tell you that she likes you? 

and that's how katniss ended up climbing a random tree in the school’s backyard trying to impress you. it happened all of a sudden; her mind didn't even take a second to ask herself if it was a good idea. as you were touching her arm for the fifth time in three minutes, katniss simply said “look at this,” ran to the closest tree and started climbing it. pressured by the expectations of impressing you, she climbed unfocused, looking at you every few seconds, not placing her feet firmly on the branches as her dad had taught her. “what do you think?, “ was the last thing katniss asked her best friend before falling from the tree and losing consciousness.

as soon as her eyes opened, she was met with familiar surroundings; she wasn't at school anymore, she was in her house, more specifically on the kitchen table where her mom took care of patients. before she could start to ask herself any more questions, she was met with a pair of worried eyes and a tight hug. “you scared me to death, i thought you had died,” her best friend cried in her arms-well her arm, considering she broke one in the fall and now it was held by an arm cast. “i’m sorry, i was just trying to impress you but i failed,” little katniss confessed, embarrassed, as her eyes filled with tears. 

“why? i'm amazed by you every second we spend together, katniss.” shock came to her and she started to become flustered. “what do you mean?” she asked shyly. “i mean that i like you. i really, really like you, katniss. i was just waiting for the right moment to tell you,” you confessed as your face felt as if it was burning and your heart felt like bursting at any time soon. katniss was left dumbfounded, no words left her mouth even after she had spent many days practicing how she would confess her feelings to you. 

“let me show you,” was the last thing you said before inexpertly pressing your lips softly to hers, one hand caressing her cheek and the other one playing with her hair. katniss felt as if she was in heaven, your soft and gentle lips made her feel as if electricity ran through her veins, becoming addicted to the slight strawberry flavor of them. a sigh escaped her lips when you finally separated, leaving her pleased but still wanting you in her embrace. not a word was said for what felt like an eternity, the room filled with a comfortable silence where your stares communicated everything you wanted to say,

“can i sign your cast?,” you asked giggling, finally breaking the silence. maybe now katniss had a new happy place, a safe place found in her best friend’s embrace.

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

"Hold on tight." (Part 1/?)

About Youth

My School President

Moonlight Chicken

Work From Heart

Innocent

Nitiman

My Engineer

Never Let Me Go

My favorite bl-tropes collection, as always in no particular order.

[cursedlectra]

Sally is our sunshine so of course she's yellow!

My girlfriend made a comment about Sally blasting Gangnam Style throughout the mansion and it stuck