#but SAD

[tadbitsilly]

"I've had dreams of F wearing a red hood, watching me from the shadows. What if those weren't dreams?!"

//Close-ups

[goldetrash]

Nightmares (LMK Comic/storyboard/fake screenshots?)

Content warning: Blood, character death, sad monkeys

[marylily-my-beloved]

'I don't smoke except for when I'm missing you, to remeber your mouth, how it tasted true' but it's Remus smoking all the time after '81 because it reminds him of Sirius

[nostalgiclittlespace]

Regression Grief

Does anyone else while regressing occasionally just sit back and think ‘what happened to me?’ Where did that time go? Why am I suddenly an adult with real responsibilities, when it seems like just yesterday I was running around my backyard and learning to read? What happened to the days when my biggest worry was whether I would play stuffed animals or action figures? I’m closer to being 21 than I am to being 10, and how can that be right? Why did that have to go away? I’m not ready for it to go away

I want it to come back, for real. Just for a day. I want to be a real kid with my siblings again.

I’m sorry for this insane rambling; I’m pretty regressed rn and I struggling with growing up.

[shovson]

I would kill for love.

[frooogscream]

[violetspark14]

hi um can you do mcpriceley angst. thank you

dreaming of him

[greyromanticghoul]

frater copia trying to relax by checking out super mario galaxy for the first time. ends up crying for obvious reasons

[soahbee]

Right person wrong time? Maybe that's we are.

[answer2jeff]

from velcro to bunny ears — carmen berzatto.

warnings : mentions of emotional neglect ?? distant relationship from siblings. not an x reader.

a/n: i wrote this in 20 minutes please excuse me if there are any typos..

I have a feeling Carmen always had trouble with the milestones other kids his aged reached.

Mental math, riding a bike—it all came to him much slower than he was ever comfortably able to admit. Kind, but not smart. Polite, but not friendly. Creative, but not handsome. Imaginative, but not funny.

He's been this way for as long as he can remember, occasional dabbles in art and his passion for culinary being the only part of himself he could be sure would be seen as the best of the best, even if he didn't truly believe he was quite at the epitome of perfection.

Shoelaces.

Fuck, were those the bane of his existence at just 7 years old. Stupid Velcro that made a tearing sound that was similar to a bloodcurdling scream.

He'd been wearing shoes with Velcro strips, or short laces that purposefully looked tucked and didn't require tying, since he could walk.

Jesus. Carmen never even learned how to tie them. Asking anyone, even his mother, was simply too much to ask. Instead, he would insist that Velcro shoes were okay, and he wasn't too old for them.

Until Uncle Jimmy came to visit during the summer of 1998.

Mikey, barely 16, was out with friends for the weekend, possibly getting drunk on beaches and rolling joints on the roofs of parking garages. And 11 year old Natalie was celebrating her classmate, Ashley's, 12th birthday. Rollerblade hockey was the new craze. Why wait for mucky fishponds and vast lakes to solidify and freeze over in the dead of winter when you could just go across the street and bust your ass on the concrete instead?

It wasn't necessarily Carmen's idea. Cicero, being the overbearing babysitter he'd become due to Donna's negligence, couldn't handle seeing his poor little nephew cooped up in the tiny upstairs bedroom riddled with hand drawn artworks plastered on his walls. It wasn't right. Summer was for bruises and scabs that would be forgotten about with the booming sound of fireworks and taste of sugary popsicles dripping down your arms.

"Why don't you go hang out with the kids across the street, Bear?" Cicero asked him. Carmen picked his little head up from his sketch book and looked out the view of his window.

He only shrugged.

"They're playin' rollerblade hockey. Your brother Mikey fuckin' loved that, y'know? When he was your age, I mean. Give it a shot, eh? Might be nice kids."

The Raymondville's. Carmen didn't know much about that family. He didn't know they were nice, or played rollerblade hockey like his older, therefore much cooler, big brother. All he knew was that they were also older, therefore much cooler than him too.

That's all that mattered anyway. But he had this tendency to follow in his brothers footsteps. With Jimmy's rare visits and Donna's unpredictable and equally scarce moments of wanting to be an actual tender and caring mother, Mikey was the closest thing to a reliable adult he ever had. Natalie was too busy spending every moment she could out of the house until she'd come crawling back to Mom, who would only scold her for ever wanting to leave in the first place, to notice how perfectly Carmen blended into the wallpaper.

A happy house.

Rollerblade hockey sounds fine.

After a dig through the attic and rummaging through a box of old sports equipment—low and behold lied the skates. Black and turquoise. Mikey's favorite colors. The 4 wheelers were a little intimidating, but Carmen faintly remembered spending a week with Aunt Lisa and learning how to at least stroll down the sidewalk of his cousins neighborhood.

"Go on," Cicero gave a gentle push to Carmen's small and trembling shoulders, leaning back on the front porch to carefully watch his nephew try and be an active member of society from a distance. His little blonde curls blew in the evening wind, the humidity from earlier in the day still weighing them down. His hands shook vigorously which were tightly gripping a pair of Mikey's old rollerskates.

A jumble of "hi's, my name is," and "can i play's," fell out of his quiet mouth. They were met with nods from the 5 boys, easily ages 9-12, the oldest being 13. But this was only after shared glances and shrugs of discomfort were shown. The Raymondville's had never seen this fragile little kid in their lives: short and skinny. But they knew the Berzatto's. They knew cool Mikey and pretty Natalie—but not average Carmen. A breath of relief washed over Carmy, and he sat down on the fluffy and bright green grass to remove his white lace-less sneakers and shoved his feet into the slightly too big skates.

The straps snapped down easily. But those damned laces, thick and white with little black stitching, taunted him. He swallowed.

Carmen simply tucked them in, his stomach queasy at the feeling of the plastic aglet's poking his feet.

He stumbled a bit, but he secured himself as he remembered to bend his knees just a bit. It wasn't all too different from skating on the ice in mid-January. Except now it was mid-June, and every wheel could easily catch itself in the bumps and cracks of the old streets of the neighborhood that hadn't been patched in years. But alas, the laces came loose, and one had caught right in the metal bolt of the wheel and zipped right around it, knocking little Carmy off his feet and onto his bum.

Tears immediately pricked at his waterlogged eyes when he looked around just to see everyone had already started the 5th game of the day without him.

Uncle Jimmy simply sighed and beckoned his hand toward himself, shaking his head in pity rather than surprise. Carmen's shoulders shook with silent sobs as he held his skates in one skinny arm and his sneakers in the other. He couldn't even wipe the snot that pooled from his nose or the consistent tears that streamed down his cheeks and soaked his t-shirt.

"Jesus," Cicero swore under his breath, leaning forward "Nobody ever teach you how to tie your shoes, Carm?" he raised a brow, carefully taking his nephews Velcro shoes and setting them down on the porch beside him. At 7 years old, with a one sibling being 12 and the other being nearly 16, one would expect he could tie his own shoes. He couldn't tell which question was greater: how he hadn't learned through observation, or why he never just asked?

"N—no," Carmen hiccuped, wiping his eyes and taking a seat down beside his uncle. He carefully watched as Cicero went through step by step instructions of the 'bunny ear' method. The little boy was mesmerized by the simplicity of the loop Cicero wrapped around his thumb, pulling it into a tight and secure bow in such quick timing. He never forgot after that day.

Sometimes he still mumbles "wrap around the coop, push through the loop," as he ties the laces of his white Nike Cortez sneakers before going on his 3rd soul searching and ultimate sensory seeking 15 minute walk of the week.

"Bunny ears," Uncle Jimmy said to Carmy.

And 'bunny ears' he did.

tags : @lemmejustpulloutmylightsaber @sexyyounglatinoboy @febris-amatoria

[burningvelvet]

i see lord byron has been editing percy shelley's wikipedia page again

[delulu-4-lewlew]

Are they just gonna replace Logan on their podcast and not say anything?

[tai-janai]

he had a bad dream (based off that post about cheated's fears but also the ask i got about hunted and cheated)

[nathaaaan]

“She was there.”

[eidolons-stuff]

*Thing finds Wednesday in the forest*

Thing: *signs annoyedly* "I HAVE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU EVERYWHERE"

Wednesday: "Why?"

Thing: *signs* "BECAUSE YOU NEED TO GET YOUR ASS BACK TO ENID RIGHT NOW"

Wednesday: *concern in her voice* "Why? Is she hurt?"

Thing: *signs* "No. But she's heartbroken"