#daughter youth

[star-struck09]

I wish I could hold my younger self in my arms for even just a moment and tell her it will get better.

[moonsnqil]

aftg au where bee adopted andrew and later aaron when they were teens. she owns an apple orchard that the twins and occasionally a few of the foxes help run but it's almost harvest season and she needs help prepping everything for the town's fall festivals so she decided to put up a help wanted ad. neil, tired, alone, and running out of options, decides to apply. bee let's him use the renovated barn loft as residence when she learns he's homeless. andrew is wary, his family means everything to him and neil is a flightly little thing that could only bring bad news, but something about neil is familiar. maybe it's how he checks all his exits or how he flinches when people touch him or how he cradles the key bee gave him in his palm like it was a treasure instead of a piece of metal. he asks neil for truths and it's like bleeding a rock but he finds neil is more willing when truth is reciprocated. they spend their days walking down the lines of apple trees, harvesting and talking, and andrew is only a little mesmerized with the way neil's auburn curls blend with the red of the apples and his eyes match the sky like something deliberate, like he was meant to be here. andrew thinks that maybe he doesn't hate how neil looks at him like he's worth something. andrew thinks that maybe he doesn't want to lose this. he's still learning how to accept that not everything is transactional, he doesn't need to make deals to keep people close, hes still figuring out how to want things without the fear of them being snatched away. his mind screams at him to turn away and push any feeling aside but then neil is handing him an apple and smiling and telling him stories he says he's never told anyone else and andrew doesn't think he deserves this but he wants it

[dracosiwa]

no thalia grace does NOT listen to “hayloft” and “sweater weather”

she is PUNK and ROCK she probably criticizes you for not knowing 3 songs of a band’s shirt you’re wearing

she listen to green day, sex pistols, rage against the machine, youth brigade and the exploited

also i’m sick of looking for character playlists on spotify and it’s the same songs all over again (yes im talking about 505 and do i wanna know)

[diioonysus]

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

[kaitcake1289]

IMPLIED TVC SPOILERS !!

"[...] so she could stay in the same flat-chested, hairless-crotched 14-year-old baby doll body as her mind and spirit turn 19, 20, 25, 63, 358..."

[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?

[kaansasblues]

START LIVING

[star-struck09]

I miss how we used to be.

[blackpoppy0]

'And if you’re in love, then you are the lucky one 'cause most of us are bitter over someone setting fire to our insides for fun to distract our hearts from ever missing them. But I’m forever missing him.'

[evvyyypeters-fics]

Life moves like a speeding bullet, hitting you in the chest with such a force you don’t even register the pain until the hole left behind begins to bleed,

The memories slipping by you now snaking down your chest, spilling from the wound opened in your heart like streaks of rain on a car window,

It’s thick, red, and unstoppable,

It’s dark and never slows down,

More comes, a shower of gunpowder clouding your vision,

The fragments moving so fast before you that not even a stifle of sound escapes until there is that brief pause when the gun is reloaded,

“You make your own reality” drones on in my head, an echo of hope

Only, one stroke of the brush becomes a painting, then two, and three,

Between then you begin to lose count of the ones you started, and the ones that have finished,

The lines become blurred, and yet they all remain the same image, disfigured in your mind,

Each painting anew looks just like the last, the distortion in each growing like stars that die, their light glowing brighter from that distance so far out of reach,

And yet they don’t exist any longer, there is nothing left for you,

You cannot reach out to them no matter how much they twinkle in your eye, no matter how familiar they gleam,

You forget the purpose, but your hand still picks up the brush again,

And the cycle continues, spiraling, down, down, down, deeper into the rabbit’s hole

Will it ever end? Will you ever find the yellow brick road that leads you back to the start? Before Alice drank the tea? Before Jack ever climbed the beanstalk, or planted the seed that it grew from?

Where is the youth you so desperately hung onto? Why does the sand slip from our fingers? Why can’t it linger a little longer, why must the apple always fall from the tree?

So many questions and I know that at the end, night will fall, the thoughts will continue to be there,

Hammering, hammering, hammering me,

Must I suffer to experience the [fleeting] kiss of joy?

Will I ever know?

And I pluck the petals from the flower, innocently, I was a child then,

How foolish I was not to realize that they would never grow back,

The beauty I admired with naive wonder ceasing in my hands

Now, no matter how hard I try not to pick their beauty, they still wither

And in anguish, I watch. Inevitably.

My goofy ass almost forgot my taglist. Oh well:

@fear-is-truth @xkaisxjazzxsingerx @lemoniiiiiii @jazz-berry @marchsfreakshow @colinzabelswife @dearlizzies @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @xrag-dollx @lacucarachapisser @alittleobsessedbitch @n0tonlin3

[rebeccasreveries]

hebe aesthetic [c18]

gods and goddesses masterlist

[maiapoetica]

[gus-dix]

been playing the daughter simulator and ended up caring a lot about my daughter. shocker!

do not erase the caption, use or rePOST my art (reblog ok)

[star-struck09]

I miss when I was young. Everything felt so much smaller then.

[sparklecryptid]

And who’s this intruding on the broken ice ‘verse? Why, it’s Ardyn Izunia with a steel chair!

Ardyn: *standing in the middle of a shattered prophecy* hm

Ardyn: *sees the one responsible for the shattering of the prophecy is one of his niblings* :3

Ifrit: do not

Ardyn: but what if - was MY princess?

Ifrit: you can’t forcibly adopt someone-

Ardyn: *dropping a hat on Luche* incorrect, I can do what I want.

Luche: *still extremely out of it* wait what?